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cressidagrey · 2 months

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The Ties that Bind - Chapter 3

Summary:

Shadowsingers were made, not born. Made out of trauma and loneliness and desperation.

So when Cilla and Azriel meet and their shadows entwine, they both meet the only other person that could understand these particular childhood scars.

The last thing Azriel had ever expected from his mate, however, was for her to have a surprising connection to his brother.

Warnings:

Mentions of Child Abuse and Neglect, Mention of imprisonment, Mention of Hybern's attack on Velaris and death resulting from that

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

She was trembling. Even with blankets wrapped around her. Even while burrowed as close to him as she could get.

Azriel traced her features, with his fingertips—every single, perfect inch of her.

These strong arched eyebrows, her nose, just so upturned at the tip… her full lips, near heart-shaped in the centre.… beautiful pointed ears, the long, black curly hair that had been held back in a braid that was falling apart…he took it apart in the end, Cilla pressing against his hand like a cat.

She was beautiful.

Beautiful and utterly exhausted.

And then he was ripped from his thoughts by the smell of burning chicken and he cursed.

“Cauldron Boil Me,” he spat out as he needed to pull himself from his mate to make sure that he didn’t accidentally burn down the whole house.

Cilla flinched and he hated that he had been the cause of that, that he needed to pull himself from her, throw on a pair of lounging trousers the shadows happily handed him, and look after his pot of soup with the shadows already pulling it from the burner.

“What…?” Cilla asked him, her voice quiet and he sighed, running one hand through his hair.

“Soup. I was making you soup,” Azriel explained with a sigh. “You need to eat.”

More water in the pot, chicken out of it…he would need to take that apart, pull the flesh from the bones, something he went straight to just a moment later.

“I am not hungry,” Cilla said softly at that moment.

For just a moment he closed his eyes. Of course, she wasn’t. She was so thin that she was used to starving herself. Hunger pans probably didn’t even register to her anymore.

They just were.

“I know. But you still need to eat,” he said evenly. Keeping that anger out of her voice. Not anger at her but for her. She needed to eat.

He probably had not helped with keeping up her strength. Not when… the possibility had not even registered in his mind…that she was a virgin. That she had no fucking idea what she had even started when she had held out that cracker for him to take.

He had just taken it. So over the moon that he had found his mate that nothing else had mattered.

Now…now he wondered what her reason for giving him that cracker even was. Was it fear? Some kind of feeling that she needed to keep him content and happy because if he got angry she would be at the receiving end of it?

It curdled in his stomach.

He heard Cilla’s quiet footsteps and then she was behind him, burying her head between his shoulder blades, his wings trembling at that intimate touch.

She was searching out his presence, body pressing against his. Somehow she derived some form of comfort from it. Maybe he hadn't fucked up completely.

“But I want you,” she mumbled into his skin. It was definitely unhelpful, mating frenzy fighting with instincts and his own fucking mind, because he didn’t know if this was even a good idea at all.

He should have waited. He should have...He shouldn't have just taken her like he had...He should have taken his time...given her time...but he hadn't.

He was already regretting it.

Not regretting her. Never regretting her. She was a cauldron-given gift to him. But maybe it would have been better to take it slower, to...give her the opportunity to back out, to...

“After you have eaten, Sweetheart,” Azriel finally settled on gently. Maybe. Maybe after he had gotten some food inside her, after they had talked. “You are supposed to rest.”

“I am fine,” she disagreed with him quietly, but stepped back, instead settling next to him, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“You were nearly frozen solid when I fished you out of that lake,” he pointed out reasonably, as he looked over her.

Cilla had found a blanket to wrap up in. Thank the cauldron for small mercies, because Azriel was not quite sure if he would be able to withstand her naked and bare to his gaze.

Though if he just stared at her skinny and knobby shoulder poking out from her blanket cocoon…it was more likely. When was the last time she had eaten at all?

Go find her some clothing, he demanded from his shadows.

From where? they responded nearly immediately.

How about you have her shadows tell you where she lives? Azriel suggested. Some more intelligence, more information.... He could use that.

He poured half a package of noodles into that pot after adding the chicken back in, put the lid back on…and then turned to Cilla, who was watching him, a soft expression on her face.

Azriel failed horribly with keeping his hands off her when he lifted her up on the counter, only so that he could kiss her gently, without her straining her neck.

She kissed him back enthusiastically, hands burying themselves in his hair. Azriel did leave it at that. He crowded close to her so that she could feel his body warmth and cling tightly to him, but that was it. Nothing more.

Food then Talk and then...then he could worry about it.

Until then, he kissed her, gently, chastly, making her laugh as he pressed kisses against her cheeks and her forehead and every inch of hers that he could reach.

Until enough time had passed for him to step back, spoon some of that soup into a bowl, and hand it to her.

Some long-buried instinct in him was soothed by this. Soothed by having provided for his mate. “Eat, Sweetheart,” Azriel told her gently.

Cilla ate. If one could call it that…and didn’t call it shovelling food into her mouth as quickly as possible.

He should have recognised the signs before. He should have fucking stopped to think for just a moment.

Stopped and thought about what it meant that she was a Shadowsinger like he was. But he hadn’t.

Now it was starkly at the forefront of his mind.

Azriel caught her hand. “Don’t burn yourself,” he said quietly. “I am not going to take your food from you. There is more if you want more later. Take your time.”

Her skin turned red and she looked everywhere but him.

“I am sorry.” The way she said that hesitant and broken, made something inside him shatter.

“Eat. Slowly,” he insisted quietly.

Master.

What’s with her apartment? he asked immediately, not liking the tone of their voice at all. He spooned soup in another bowl for himself, forcing himself to eat.

It’s near Lady Death’s old apartment. The bad part of town, the shadows answer quietly.

And?

She owns one other dress and one can of tomatoes, Master.

He worked hard to keep his face devoid of emotions as he watched Cilla finish her soup out of the corner of his eye, holding out his hand for her to hand it over so that he could refill it.

This was even worse than he had thought it would be, wasn’t it?

She went to demolish that bowl as well.

Furniture?

A bedroll.

Anything else? He demanded. There must be something else. Anything.

A note from her landlord that her rent is due tomorrow and that she owes him 6 gold coins or she can earn it on her knees, the shadows hissed in response.

Right.

Show her shadows how to play the lottery, he told them calmly, fury bubbling away underneath the surface. And bring that one dress and her can of tomatoes here.

He saw how a shadow suddenly started dancing around Cilla, her eyebrows narrowing.

“Your shadows play the lottery?” she asked him, sounding adorably confused and he bit back his amusement.

“They do,” he answered with a sigh. “It’s their hobby of sorts. I am surprised that yours haven’t yet figured out how to get money on their own.”

She grimaced.

“Do I want to know?” he asked her drily and Cilla shrugged.

“They used to pickpocket sometimes,” she admitted quietly. “I made them stop.”

He imagined that the only reason the shadows had gone that far was to make sure that Cilla didn’t outright starve.

Just one moment later, his shadows brought her that dress and that can of tomatoes, putting both on her lap, fluttering around, like they were waiting for her to either pet him or thank them for a job well done.

She didn't flinch away from them, instead, staring on the dress. A drab blue colour, threadbare in some places, mended in others.

“That’s my dress. You had your shadows get it?” She questioned him, eyebrows furrowing again and he nodded.

“I did,” azriel agreed. “So you had something to wear if you wanted to.” She seemed to take that at face value.

“And the can of tomatoes?” she asked him curiously.

“They said that’s all you owned,” he said carefully. Cilla just shrugged.

Like that was normal. Like she had never thought twice about the fact that she had two dresses, a pair of shoes and a can of tomatoes to her name.

“My bag is still lying around outside,” she said, like that somehow made it all better.

It made Azriel want to kill somebody.

“Tell me about your job,” he said instead because he needed to know what exactly she did for a living that resulted in this.

“My job?” She asked him surprised. “I work in a tannery. I don’t really get along with some of the potions we use, that’s where these come from,” she explained holding up her hand, that red scratchy skin.

“How much money does that make?” He asked as he gently took her hand in his, looking at the scarpes in more detail.

Her skin was red and inflamed, dry and cracked. It must hurt, but she seemed content to just ignore that.

“8 gold coins a month,” Cilla answered.

Which meant she had 2 gold coins each month, that didn't go to her rent, to feed herself, to clothe herself, to buy herself anything she needed.

It wasn’t fucking enough. He had no clue how she even survived on that.

Especially when even the minimum wage in Velaris would supposedly make sure that she would make at least 15 a month if she worked a full-time job.

“How much time off?” He asked, wondering how bad it could get.

“A half-day each month.”

It wasn’t even a conscious thought when he told his shadows to get him the names of both her landlord and her employer.

His anger must have shown on his face because suddenly her scent soured with fear.

“I am sorry,” she apologised but he shook his head.

“I am not angry with you, sweetheart,” Azriel assured her immediately. “I am fucking furious with both your landlord and your employer though.”

“I need that job,” Cilla told him, biting her lip, desperation bleeding into her voice.

“The minimal wage you are legally allowed to be paid in Velaris is 15 gold coins a month. You worked for half of that," he told her, forcing his voice to be even.

“I need that job!” Cilla repeated sharply. “I can’t read, I cannot write. I have no trade. What else was I supposed to do?” she demanded.

That desperation in her voice was not helping with his fury. She had done what needed to be done. Cilla should have never even fucking been in that situation.

“Then I’ll teach you,” Azriel said, his voice forcedly calm. He could teach her to read and to write. “And we figure out whatever you want to be.”

Anything was better than this.

Cilla stared at the floor, not looking at him.

He reached out to cup her cheek gently.

“Look at me,” he said softly. And she did. Dark brown eyes were filled with tears and he pressed a kiss against her forehead.

“You are my mate,” Azriel said quietly.

“That means that I will always take care of you. You could tell me you never want to see me again and I would still make sure that you have a safe place to stay. That you have enough food not to starve,” he told her fiercely.

She stared at him like she didn’t quite see him, like she couldn’t believe the words that left his mouth.

“You’ll find another job. Preferably something where you don’t spend your days doing back-breaking labour for not enough money to even feed yourself properly.” Literally, anything was better than that.

“You will never need to worry about food again,” he promised her. “You can do whatever you want with your life.“

Even if that didn’t include him. He wanted her happy. Nothing else.

“That apartment… There is no universe in existence in which that is a place for my mate,” he continued. “You’ll stay right here. At least for a little while…For the next few weeks or so. And then we can find you another apartment if you want to. Preferably something that’s not a downtrodden hovel.”

He watched her swallow, watched one tear trickle down her cheek that he wiped away carefully.

“I don’t need much,” Cilla told him softly.

“A warm, safe and dry place is not much. That is the bare minimum,” he gave back immediately. That was the least everybody should have.

And it had taken him years to realise that even he deserved it, but he was not going to have his mate stay somewhere like that if he had any choice in that matter.

Still, as she leaned into his hands, she looked so impossibly young for just a moment, that his heart constricted.

“How old are you, Cilla?” he asked her gently and she shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she answered, her voice nearly listless. “20 maybe? 21? Could be a few years older though?”

“You…don’t know.” He repeated unbelieving. Gods, she was still half a girl. A girl with clearly nobody that took care of her, and a lack of knowledge about her own age. Even Azriel knew his damn birthday!

“Why don’t you know?” he asked her, forcing himself to be calm.

“I…I didn’t really have a normal childhood,” Cilla admitted quietly, pulling back from him slightly. “I…I was…My mother was high fae. My father must have been the one with the wings,” she said with a shrug. “I killed her. When I was born. My wings sliced her open from the inside out.”

She said that so matter-of-factly. Like she knew that this had been her fault and her fault alone.

He swallowed. Hating how familiar these words sounded. That’s what had been their worry with Feyre and Nyx. Just that Cilla didn’t have a Nesta that had saved her mother. And instead gave herself clearly the fault for her mother’s death.

Her wings trembled, caving in around her like she couldn’t bear to lift them up when she talked about it.

“My grandmother raised me afterwards,” Cilla continued, her voice cracking.

She didn’t need to say more. He understood.

“She gave you the fault for her daughter's death,” he ended her sentence. She just shrugged. Again.

“It was my fault,” Cilla agreed.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Azriel cut her off, sharply.

“Yes, it was my fault. If she hadn’t had me, she would still be alive. I murdered her,” Cilla disagreed fiercely. “My fault. I should have never been born,” she spat out these words, and he just knew that these weren’t her words. It were the words that she had heard so often until she had started to believe them.

“I am so sorry, Sweetheart,” he apologised.

“I lived in the attic. I wasn’t allowed out,” Cilla continued. “The shadows kept me company.”

She didn’t talk about the scars on her wings. Didn’t say how her grandmother had treated her…but Azriel could fill in the gaps.

“How did you get out?” he asked her.

“When Hybern attacked the city…the house got reduced to rubble. My grandmother died. The shadows dug me out,” Cilla said softly. So 2 years. She had been out of that attic for 2 years. And imprisoned for 18. No wonder she behaved…strangely sometimes. She never really had…any socialisation, any family, any friends...for so long.

It was a miracle she wasn’t completely feral. He had been when he had finally gotten out of that cell…he had been…barely…a person. And it had only been 11 years for him.

“Fuck, Sweetheart,” he cursed.

“When did yours come to you?” She asked him, biting her lip, changing the topic and he figured that he owed her the truth just as she had given him.

“I was 8,“ Azriel answered quietly. “My father was a lord in an Illyrian war camp. My mother was his long-suffering mistress. I wasn’t supposed to exist. His wife agreed. They took me from my mother when I was a baby…You got locked into an attic. I got locked in a cell underneath his keep. Only taken out the bare minimum,“ he recounted.

These days…it no longer hurt him. Not really. It was just…something that he had accepted had happened to him long, long ago. Not the most traumatising thing he had gone through either. He still didn't like the feeling of being caged, of darkness...but he could stand it if need be.

“When I was 8…my half brothers decided to see what would happen if oil and fire mixed,” he continued, lifting his other hand and holding it out for Cilla’s perusal. “These were the results.”

She reached out to touch, her small hand wrapping around his and intertwined their fingers.

“I am sorry,“ Cilla whispered but Azriel shook his head.

“It was a very, very long time ago, Cilla. Over 500 years,“ he told her. Centuries. He should be well over it by now.

But he wasn’t. He probably never would. Not completely.

“You didn’t deserve that,” she insisted and a small smile lifted up his lips at that.

“Neither did you.”

“I killed her,” Cilla disagreed.

“I killed people too. And I wasn’t a babe when I did it,” Azriel said drily. “I did it on purpose, Cilla. Hundreds of times. Sometimes in a war as a warrior, sometimes for this court, for our High Lord…I have killed, Sweetheart.”

She stared at him wide-eyed, and he half expected her to flinch away in disgust.

Finally, she just shook her head. “That’s not the same,“ she whispered.

He just pressed a kiss against her forehead in response.

Only then did he feel the heat from her forehead that made him pull back. Her eyes were glassy and he pressed his hand against her forehead.

“You’re running a fever, Sweetheart,” he realised with a sigh. Her bath in an ice-cold mountain lake had probably resulted in this.

“I am fine,” Cilla mumbled, leaning against his hands. He just sighed.

“Let’s go to bed. You need to rest.”

She just hummed, glomping onto him and he lifted her up easily, putting her back underneath all the blankets, and sliding in right next to her.

“Just sleep,” he told her softly, though she didn’t seem to even need that.

At least that Mating Frenzy had abated, replaced with worry for her, because if she got sicker than a simple fever, there wasn’t much she could put against it. No fat she could pull energy from, no weight she could stand lose in the process.

Right now, all Azriel could do, was to watch over her.

He watched as her wings relaxed and her face slackened…as she curled up next to him.

He breathed in her scent, his nose tucked against her neck.

If he took the proper time to parse her scent, he could pick himself up. Cedars and that fresh, watery scent of mist…and underneath that, her.

Warm and still fresh, like a hearth on a dark winter day…underneath it all vanilla and over it, snow-chilled wind and crackling embers.

Wait, what?

He took another deep breath of his mate, her scent so similar to another that he had smelled day in and day out, again and again over 5 centuries.

No.

No, this couldn’t be.

He stared at his mate, deep asleep…took in these strong eyebrows, her cheekbones…the shape of her face…

She must have inherited her mother's eyes, though the shape…

Her mother’s nose and lips definitely…but her hair…

Her hair and the shape of her face and the shape of her eyes…and these wings…

There were near invisible differences of these wings from Illyrian to Illyrian…differences in their shapes and the colours…Rhys had always had the darkest.

Azriel’s own had a near-purple tint of the sun shining through them…but Cassian‘s… Cassian's wings had always been a near-black dark brown…reddish in the light of the sun.

And a near-perfect replica was stretched out from his mate's back right now.

How many Illyrians were there in Velaris 20 years ago….

He only knew two. One of them was Azriel himself.

And the other…

Fuck.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #the ties that bind

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pandorxxx · 1 year

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Fetch

Neteyam x Metkayina fem reader x lo’ak (all characters aged up)

Warning: cursing, p in v, oral, praise link, degrading kink, daddy kink, choke kink, spit kink, Auralism, dom-lo’ak, soft dom- Neteyam (He’s whimpering in this one), creampie, squirting, multiple orgasms, fingering, throat bulge, reader is filthy in this one, a lot of dirty talk. (Lmk if I miss anything)

Synopsis: when Tsireya leaves you in the forest without any clothes, it’s your job to find your way back home in hopes that no one will see you. However, that idea doesn’t go as planned.

🔞mdni🔞

“I swear to eywa, I’m going to kill that girl when i get back.” You mumbled, walking through the forest…soaking wet and naked. Tsireya decided to pay you back for taking her clothes when you dared her to go skinny dipping a few weeks ago, so she decided to return the favor this time. As sisters, you two joked and played around a lot, and it tended to go alittle too far sometimes.

You shivered from the night breeze, covering your chest as you walked through the forest with a quickness. It was after eclipse, so you were hoping no one saw you. It was usually very quiet around this time.

“Bro this is all your fault. Now we’re fucking lost.” You heard in the distance, completely stopping in your tracks. “What? This is Your fault! We wouldn’t even be out here if it wasn’t for you!” A deeper, heavier voice growled, coming close with each footstep. Your eyes widened, scurrying behind a nearby bush, making the most noise possible.

“Fuck was that?” Lo’ak whispered, pulling his knife out of the casing. “This way.” Neteyam nudged his head, grabbing his bow from around his chest, loading it up. The footsteps got louder, and all you could do was hold your breath and shut your eyes tightly, praying that they would walk away.

Seeing as your trembling shook the shrub you were hiding behind, it wasn’t hard to find you. Neteyam raised his bow, pointing it in the shrubs direction.

“Come out now.” Lo’ak growled, knife in hand. “Don’t make this hard.” Neteyam spoke, pulling his bow back. You internally cursed, heart beating out of your chest.

“I-it’s me! Y/n!” You shouted in a frightened tone. Still hiding behind the shrub. Neteyam immediately put the bow down, wrapping it around his body again. Lo’ak followed, slowly placing the knife back in its casing.

“Y/n? What are you doing out here so late?” Neteyam started. “And by yourself?” Lo’ak finished the thought. You could hear the footsteps getting closer and you panicked.

“NO! Don’t come any closer, please!” You pleaded, sticking your head out the side of the shrub. Your curly hair was soaking wet and you looked as stressed as you actually were. They both stopped in their tracks, glancing at each other before looking back at you.

“Bro, what the fuck are you doing? And why is your hair wet?” Lo’ak asked In a frustrated tone. Neteyam crossed his arms around his chest, a confused look plastered across his face as he awaited an explanation from you.

“My stupid sister! She dared me to go skinny dipping and then took my clothing.” You explained, and the brothers immediately erupted in laughter.

“Ha ha, very fucking funny.” You said sarcastically as you watched them laugh in your face. “Wait so- Tsireya left you here?” Neteyam laughed, regaining his breath.

“Yes, skxawng! And I’m cold as shit!” You shouted, rubbing your shoulders to create some heat. “And…you’re naked right now?” Lo’ak chuckled, trying to look over the shrub to get a peek.

“You’re such a perv! I need to get back! Help me, please?” You pleaded, shooting them a fake smile. “What the fuck are we supposed to do?” Lo’ak chuckled, gesturing in confusion. You sighed, there really wasn’t much they could do. You looked around for a few seconds before darting your eyes to Neteyam. A brown shawl tied around his neck, hanging behind his back.

“Give me the shawl!” You shouted in excitement, holding your hand out for it. Neteyam went to untie it before lo’ak stopped him. Neteyam and Lo’ak devised a plan through eye contact, smiling at eachother all-knowingly before staring back at you.

“Say please.” Lo’ak grinned. His gaze altered in seconds. It was cold, hard, and full of lust. You hissed at him as a way of disobeying his command. Without saying a word, they both snickered before turning around to walk away. You rolled your eyes in frustration, putting your pride aside.

“Fuck! PLEASE!” You shouted, making them turn back around to face you. “I love a girl with manners.” Neteyam muttered, untying the shawl from around his shoulders, handing it to lo’ak. Lo’ak proceeded to throw it a few inches in front of him before crossing his arms.

“Fetch.” Lo’ak spoke lowly, shooting you a devilish smirk as Neteyam snickered in the background. You were furious, heart rate increasing from rage. Your face balled up in anger, glaring at both of the boys.

“You know what?” You muttered in anger, standing to your full height, revealing your full breasts and slim waist. You stomped over to them, now revealing your full hips and long legs. Neteyam and lo’ak eyed your small frame with slight smirks. “Fuck both of you! Keep the stupid shawl! I’m LEA-VING!” You hissed, poking both of them in the chest. You spun around harshly, causing your hair to hit their chests before you attempted to walk away. You felt a tug on your tail, causing you to yelp in pain and hault in your tracks.

Neteyam took his place infront of you, towering over your little frame. “Move out the fucking way.” You spat, glaring up at him. You felt a hard tug to your tail again, causing you to whimper. “Watch your mouth.” Lo’ak growled from behind you.

Without a single word, neteyam started at your neck, letting his fingertips graze past your damp skin. Your breathing hitched, and your heart rate sped up. You watched his hand run all the way down your chest to your full breast. He rolled your hard nipple between his fingers before sending it a firm smack. The sensitivity making you whimper in pain.

“Shut up, or so help me God-“ he muttered, holding you steady by your neck. “Not a sound.” He growled, shaking your neck with every word. You nodded hastily. A pool of your own essence running down your legs.

“That took no time at all. Huh?” Lo’ak spoke in his melodic tone, pulling you flush to his chest by your tail. He pushed his hips into your backside, just so you could feel his growing bulge. He ran his hand down your stomach until he reached your dripping cunt. You gasped loudly when you felt his fingers part you open, using his middle and ring finger to rub slow circles into your clit. You let out a guttural moan, throwing your head back on his chest. Neteyam watched you intently, stepping alittle closer to peck your agape lips.

“Are you gonna be a good girl? Huh?” He asked, smacking your breast for a second time before he pecked your lips again. Your body jumped from the impact, moaning loudly into the kiss.

“I-I’ll be a good girl. I promise.” You whimpered breathily, feeling your peek already nearing. Lo’ak leaned down to kiss your neck, leaving the biggest hickeys possible. Your legs started to tremble, small droplets of your essence falling down your thighs.

“Mhm, show me what this pussy can do. I know you’re close.” Lo’ak whispered in your ear, speeding up the pace on your sensitive clit. “Cum for us, baby.” Neteyam whispered in your other ear. Both brothers coaching you though your orgasm was enough for you to release. “I-I’m cumming!” You whimpered, nodding your head at Neteyam as he pecked your lips once more, playing with your abused nipple before smacking it again.

“Give it to me, come on! I know you can.” Lo’ak grunted, sucking on your neck. Just like that, you squirted all over neteyam’s lower abdomen. A whining and moaning mess as lo’ak started to tap your clit, making your orgasm more intense. “OH MY- YESSSS!” You screamed, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you slid down to the ground slowly, Lo’ak following you to the ground as well. You two were on your knees as he kept his pace on your sensitive clit, making your body jolt uncontrollably.

“Lo’aaaaaak please!” You screamed, the pleasure becoming too much for you. “One more time, baby. I wanna see this pussy squirt for me one more time, ok?” He explained in your ear, giving it a small peck before swiping your clit from side to side quickly. Your jaw dropped, moans getting caught in your throat as all 3 of you listened to the squelching sounds of your dripping cunt. You grabbed lo’aks wrist, holding onto it for dear life as you felt your second orgasm approaching you.

You glanced up at Neteyam. His loincloth was around his ankles as he jerked off to your sweet sounds, glaring at you with nothing but lust. “Nete- please.” You pleaded, hoping that he would stop lo’ak from sending you an unbearable amount of pleasure. “Not until you squirt again.” He moaned, smearing the precum around his throbbing tip.

“Fuuuck!” You moaned, throwing your head back onto lo’aks chest. “That’s right, just fucking take it. Be a good girl.” Lo’ak groaned, tapping your clit repeatedly, completely sending you over the edge.

“Ohhhh shit!” You squealed, squirting for a second time. Neteyam quickly kneeled infront of you, letting his cock get sprayed with your essence as he sped up his pace. “Mmm, such a good girl.” Neteyam moaned, looking down at his soaking wet cock as he jerked it quickly.

“There you go, baby.” Lo’ak chuckled, pecking your abused neck as he slowed down on your clit. He Finally let you go, backing away from you and you immediately fell forward. Lo’ak licked his fingers clean, humming at your sweetness.

You groaned in exhaustion, lazily sitting up to be met with Neteyam, jerking his cock in your direction. “We’re not done yet. I want this big mouth of yours wrapped around my cock.” He growled, gripping your hair tightly.

“And I wanna stretch this pussy out.” Lo’ak growled from behind you, sending a hard smack to your ass. Neteyam laid down infront of you, signaling for you to come closer with his finger. You lazily crawl in between his legs until you were eye to eye with his pelvis. His hard cock throbbing with every heartbeat.

Lo’ak untied his loincloth before crawling up behind you, grabbing your hips to bring you flush to his pelvis. His cock sliding in between your wet folds made you let out a few soft moans for him.

“You see the mess you made?” Neteyam growled, referring to his dripping cock. “Suck me clean, now.” He commanded, throwing his hands behind his head, waiting for you to follow his orders. You nodded quickly before grabbing his cock, flicking your warm tongue along his tip, making his hips buck ever so slightly. After a few kitten licks, you decided to wrap your lips around his tip, sucking the precum out of him. “Shiiiiiitttt.” He moaned, throwing his head back as his face screwed in pleasure. Your eyes rolled back when you felt lo’ak probing at your aching hole. Sliding the tip in and out slowly, teasing you. Before you knew it, he slammed into you, making you hum on Neteyam.

“Feel that, baby?” Lo’ak moaned, biting his lip as he started to pound into you. You let out staggered moans on neteyams cock before you began to bob your head up and down his entire shaft. “Holy shit, y/n.” He groaned, grabbing your hair into a ponytail as you went to work on him. You looked into his eyes as you shook your head from side to side on him. He chewed on his bottom lip, trying to suppress his moans as he felt your throat contracting around his length.

“Mmmmm!” You hummed, eyes rolling to the back of your head again as lo’ak slammed against your sweet spot with every thrust. You clenched around him repeatedly, on purpose. You wanted to hear him moan just like Neteyam.

“Goddamn, s-stop that shit! That’s a sure way to make me cum in this pussy.” He moaned, shifting his hips up to jam into your sweetspot repeatedly. You went cross eyed from the pleasure, pulling off of Neteyam to let out the nastiest moan for him. You gripped neteyams cock, spitting on it before pumping him quickly. Spit dripping from your chin down your chest.

“Keep fucking me juuuust like that. Don’t *thrust* fucking *thrust* stoooop!!” You whined through a clenched jaw, looking back at a focused lo’ak. Beads of sweat forming on his forehead and chest. His lip tucked between his teeth as he watched your ass smack against his pelvis with every hard stroke.

“Such a naaaasty girl, aren’t you?” Lo’ak growled, stopping his movements just to let his spit fall in between your cheeks before slamming back into you. You hummed, smiling deliriously before turning your attention back to Neteyam. He was a wiggling/whimpering mess under you. You pumped him hard before pecking his throbbing tip. Your hands were quickly replaced by your mouth, bobbing your head on his length. His hips spazzed uncontrollably, thrusting into your mouth.

“Fuck! fuck! fuck! You do it so damn good, baby.” He moaned, shifting his hands to the back of your head, guiding you the way he wanted to. His eyes rolled back, jaw dropped, and head thrown back. Without warning, he came deep down your throat. So deep that his seed trickled down to your stomach without you even swallowing.

“Fuuuck yes!” He growled, watching you slowly slide off of his shaft, collecting all of his seed on the way up, making a loud popping sound when you detached from him. You spit his cum all over his cock before going in to lick it clean again, all while maintaining dangerous eye contact with him.

“You are fucking disgusting, you know that? Hmm?” He moaned through a clenched jaw, watching you suck him dry.

“Never knew you were such a filthy slut. I would’ve fucked your sooner.” Lo’ak chuckled, pounding into you to chase his orgasm. The loud clapping sounds and your sweet voice began to consume him. You detached from Neteyam, taking his hard cock in your hand to pump him firmly.

“Mmm! Stretching me s-soooo good, baby!” You whimpered, voice rippling from the hard thrusts. “You’re so fucking big lo’ak!” You moaned, eyes crossing in pleasure.

“Fuuuck, keep talking to me baby. Tell me how good it is.” He moaned, smacking your ass a few times, leaving handprints all across you. “I-I love this dick so much, daddy. Pleaseee! Im so fucking close!” You cried, placing your hands on either side of neteyam’s hips.

“Ohhh cum on daddy’s dick then. Show me how much you love it!” He groaned, throwing his head back as his lower abdomen tightened.

Neteyam grabbed his cock, immediately thrusting into his hand, coaxing loud squelching sounds from all of your spit and his seed combined. It was music to your ears, he whimpered loudly, watching your breasts jump from each thrust lo’ak sent you.

“I-I’m gonna cum!” You nodded, face scrunched up in pleasure as you watched Neteyam. You both locked eyes, and he immediately sped up. “S-So am I, baby. Just keep looking at me like that, don’t stop, ok?” Neteyam moaned breathily, his stomach muscles tensing as his legs began to shake.

“Mhm!” You whined, lip between your teeth as your body started to shake violently. “Shiiit! I’m right behind you baby! I’m right there! I’m right there!” Lo’ak whimpered, throwing his head back. His eyes rolled in pleasure, whining loudly as you clenched around him.

“Yesss! Oh My God!” You screeched, letting your essence coat lo’aks cock. Creating loud squelching sounds with every sloppy thrust.

Your sweet sounds sent Neteyam over the edge, and his seed shot up and onto his stomach with a couple of loud moans.

“Mmm, here it comes baby.” Lo’ak whined, thrusting into you one last time before filling you with his cum. You smiled deliriously, feeling his hot, sticky seed trickle into your womb.

You took this time to lick neteyams stomach clean, slurping his seed up before swallowing it. “Are you gonna let me fuck you, too? Hmm?” Neteyam smirked.

“Yeah, Don’t leave my brother hanging. Let him try this pussy out.” Lo’ak snickered, pulling out of you before he smacked your ass. You giggled, shifting around to straddle neteyam’s lap backwards. You held onto his knees before sliding down on him slowly. “This pussy’s so fucking tight.” Neteyam groaned, smacking your already bruised ass. You moaned at his words, bouncing on his lap quickly.

Lo’ak stood infront of you, brushing the tip of his dripping cock across your puffy lips. “Look at you, making such a fucking mess all the time. Do me a favor and suck me clean.” He smirked down at you. You opened your mouth, immediately taking him down your throat as you maintained lustful eye contact.

“Mhm, juuuust like that. Don’t fucking stop.” Lo’ak growled, holding your hair in a tight ponytail, using it as leverage to buck his hips into you. Meanwhile, neteyam watched your ass bounce up and down on his throbbing cock, sending him the most amount of pleasure. He grabbed your hips, bucking into you to meet your pace.

“Ah- a-ha! Fuuuck!” He moaned, eyes rolling in pleasure as he threw his head back. You moaned around lo’aks shaft, bobbing your head on him as you sucked him dry. You kept that eye contact with him the entire time, sending him spiraling.

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’m gonna cum down your throat sooner that expected.” He moaned, throwing his head back in completely bliss. You detached from him with a loud popping sound, making him shoot his attention back down to you. “Keep your eyes on me.” You spoke sensually, engulfing him in your mouth again. Choking and gagging on his length as lines of spit flowed down your chin.

“Mmm, as you wish baby.” He smirked, lip between his teeth as he watched you go to work on him. Rolling your tongue around his entire cock, making sure to give attention to every vein, every ridge. “So fucking nasty. Open your mouth.” He muttered through gritted teeth. You detached from him again, opening your mouth wide for him. He stuck his tongue out, letting his spit cascade down to his tip and into your mouth. And without question, you swallowed it quickly before taking him into your mouth again.

You hummed around lo’ak, eyes rolling back as Neteyam bucked his hips into you harshly, slamming against your abused sweetspot with every thrust.

“Baby, I’m so fucking close. Mmm, this pussy is so good!” Neteyam grunted, his thrusts becoming sloppy. You were close too, and he knew it. Your walls fluttered around his shaft and your moans were getting louder.

You spit lo’aks cock out of your mouth with a loud gasp, pumping him in your hand quickly. “Fuck, baby! You’re so big! This dick is sooo big!”

You whimpered, bouncing on him faster.

“Mmm, stretching this tight little pussy juuuuust right, huh? Feels good, baby?” Neteyam moaned, smacking your ass once more. His voice was low and sensual, turning you on more than you already had been.

“It feels s-so good. You’re gonna make me cum.” You whimpered, taking lo’ak into your mouth again. “Fuuuck! Cum on this dick then. Give it to me!” Neteyam growled, speeding up the pace for you.

“This mouth of yours is so filthy.” Lo’ak moaned, holding either side of your head to buck his hips quickly. He fucked your throat hard. So hard that a bulge emerged in your neck with each thrust.

“Look at that. Gonna make me cum down your throat!” Lo’ak grunted, his stomach tightened again. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Lo’ak moaned before filling your throat with his seed. He bucked his hips into your mouth slowly, throwing his head back in pleasure. You gasped for air once he pulled out of you. Your eyes were watery and your mouth was soaked with your spit and his seed.

“Ohhhh fuck! Daddy I’m cumming!” You finally screamed, using neteyam’s legs as leveraged to bounce on him at a fast pace. Your body shook uncontrollably as you sprayed his lower abdomen with every thrust. “Yes baby. Squirt for daddy.” He moaned, watching your juices flow down the sides of his hips.

“Ohhh *thrust* My *thrust* God!” Neteyam moaned, his eyes rolling back as he filled you to the brim with his seed. You hummed, rolling your hips into his, causing his body to twitch in pleasure.

Lo’ak grabbed you by your neck, staring directly into your eyes. “You’re a good little slut for us, aren’t you?” He asked with a slight smirk, smacking your face a couple of times. You smiled deliriously, eyes low from exhaustion. “Mhmmm!” You giggled, lip between your teeth.

Neteyam slid from under you, shifting to his knees. “Bend her over.” Neteyam commanded, and lo’ak quickly pushed your cheek down into the ground beneath you, revealing your cum filled cunt to Neteyam. His seed leaking out, and down your thighs. He took two fingers, sliding them into your cunt, coaxing the wettest sound out of you. You moaned loudly, biting your lip. He slid his fingers out, admiring his slick covered hand. He stood to his feet, walking around to stand infront of you. Lo’ak let you go, taking his place next to his brother.

“Sit up.” Lo’ak spat. You obliged, sitting up on your knees infront of them. Neteyam caressed the back of your head, smearing his fingers across your lips. “Open.” He commanded and you followed. Opening your mouth to suck his fingers clean, swirling your tongue around and in between his fingers while you hummed lowly. You detached from his fingers before licking your lips.

“You are by far…the nastiest girl I’ve ever seen.” Lo’ak chuckled, bending down to grab the shawl, throwing it to you.

“You earned that.” Neteyam pointed at you. You rolled your eyes, throwing the shawl around your shoulders before standing to your full height.

“Whatever, can we go now?” You spat, pushing past the both of them as you walked away from the brothers.

“Oh wow.” Neteyam chuckled, grabbing his loincloth to tie it around his hips. “Don’t fucking start, you were just so sweet a few minutes ago.” Lo’ak snarled, tying his loincloth around his hips.

“Ohhh lo’ak! Its sooo big!” Lo’ak mocked, causing Neteyam to laugh out loud as they both trailed behind you.

“HUSH!” You hissed. Turning around to face them. You walked up alittle closer. “And NO ONE can know about this! Understand?” You commanded, shifting your eye contact between the both of them. They both chuckled before lo’ak grabbed you by the neck, pulling you closer to the both of them before speaking:

“Only if we can do it again…”

Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @viajaeger @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @secretflowerobservation @violet-19999 @neteyamsprincess @xreadersstuff @sweetllamaparadise @lia-nath @sullymenrhot @dotheyevenknowmars @xdbluesky @slay-nt @domino-x3-blog @ladylovegood-69 @itssomeonereading @sweetirilly @skxawngmia @j-jinxee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @cumikering @pxndorasdream @itsaleidasworld @atxxokirina @yeletta @blueslxt-primary @jackchampismybbg @eywascall @valeriearriana37484 @avatarsslut @bee782916 @atxxokirina

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steddiealltheway · 2 years

Text

Steve is forced by his parents to go to a New Year’s work event where he knows no one. And before he goes, his mother gives him a rundown of the general rules of his behavior - including not eating or drinking anything there. She doesn’t want to risk him spilling anything on his expensive suit or embarrassing her with the way he eats.

So Steve goes to the event and is entirely miserable. His parents ditch him early on and he just wanders around the venue making brief small talk with some of his parents' coworkers. He sticks to his mother’s main topics - his age, lying about where he goes to college and what he’s studying, and the damn weather.

The food looks absolutely enticing, but it seems like every time he wants to sneak something off a platter the caterers are bringing around, his mother is watching him. So he adverts his eyes, keeping his gaze low but then his father comes by to whisper how he looks too submissive and not like a man, so he’s forced to straighten up.

Then he spots him, a caterer scowling as he attempts to balance a platter while blowing a strand of dark, curly hair out of his face. His hair is messily tied up in a bun he looks like he was forced to wear along with a suit he keeps pulling at. Steve has never felt like he’s related to someone more.

The man’s doe eyes land on Steve, catching him staring at him, and Steve quickly looks away and back towards his parents. To his surprise, they aren’t looking at him to mess up for once, too busy seemingly sucking up to someone “important.”

Steve takes the opportunity to glance back over at the man, but instead of finding him where he used to be, he’s steadily approaching him - platter of what looks to be fancy skewed meatballs in hand. Steve has never been more miserable by his mother’s rules - no eating and absolutely no talking to the caterers.

By now the man is in front of him, scowl gone and replaced with a soft smile as he offers him the platter. Steve politely shakes his head with a tight smile. The man frowns, and Steve wonders if he saw how intently he was eyeing the food before he declined. Nonetheless, the caterer continues on, even passing by his parents who both grab a skewer after the person who they’re talking to does.

Steve’s hands flex and he pinches his nose as he continues on, trying to push down the bubbling anger. He runs into a different couple and has the same damn conversation all over again before moving on to the next.

But then it happens again, the man with the messy bun and small dimples approaches him with a different platter - this time with smoked salmon. Steve politely refuses again, and the man’s frown tugs a little deeper.

For the next half hour, it’s as if the man is following him around, different platter each time - shrimp tartlets, deviled eggs, caprese salad kabobs, crab cake stuffed mushrooms, bacon-wrapped apricots, chocolate covered cheese, cheesecake bites…. All of which Steve politely refuses as the man frowns at him as if personally offended.

As the party drags on, Steve gets more and more bored and antsy. He just feels so shut in and hangry and he needs to get air. Whoever’s mansion they’re in has to have some type of balcony, so Steve wanders some more, spotting the staircase he’s passed several times, red rope making it off limits.

There’s a bit of commotion when the champagne tower comes out, and as everyone is distracted, Steve easily steps over the rope and sneaks up the stairs. When he’s hidden from sight, he lets out a sigh of relief and continues his search. He quickly finds a suspicious set of curtains on a wall, and he pulls them back.

Perfect. The doors are simple and white but to Steve’s surprise they slide apart. Dramatic. But it’s a balcony. He makes his way outside, closing the curtains and doors behind him before he takes in a breath of cold air. He feels better already.

There are two white chairs that look beautiful but incredibly uncomfortable, so Steve settles for sitting on the ground, putting his legs between the slats on the balcony railing, and glancing down at the large outdoor pool. Happy new year to him. He sighs.

The door behind him opens, and Steve whips his head around ready to be chewed out by his family or the owner.

“Shhh,” the server shushes him dramatically putting a finger to his mouth. He sets a platter filled with various finger foods down on the balcony table then closes the curtains and door behind him.

Steve stares unsure of what to do or say. His heart thuds in his chest. “So, here’s the thing,” the man says, “all night I’ve seen you practically drooling over this food, but every time you’ve refused it. At first, I thought maybe you were vegetarian, but then you refused the meatless options. Then I thought you might have some type of weird allergies, but then you refused the food that was specifically made for that. So, my question is, why are you not eating?”

Steve stares at him for a moment and finally replies, “My mother told me not to.”

The man's eyebrows pinch together. “Do you want food?”

“Desperately."

The man smiles brightly and dramatically gestures to the tray. “Voila!”

Steve glances at the tray with items stacked on top of each other because it seems like the other man ran out of space when making it. “That’s all for me?” Steve asks with the first smile of the day tugging at his lips.

The man picks up the platter and sets it next to Steve, sitting beside him. "I snuck a few bites for myself throughout the party, so yes." Steve laughs and immediately digs into the platter. "Good choice on the French rosemary chicken linguini," the man says.

Steve gives him a look while finishing chewing. "I thought this was steak."

"This is why they pay me not to speak," the man says with a cheeky grin. "I'm Eddie by the way."

"Steve," he replies, holding out his hand for Eddie to shake. Eddie grabs it and kisses the back of it. Steve laughs, "You're strange, you know that?"

"Absolutely," Eddie replies and leans in to bump his shoulder against Steve's.

They continue chatting, with Eddie spewing out some random name for whatever Steve is sampling. Every time it manages to make Steve laugh which in turn makes Eddie smile wider and scoot closer. And whenever Steve tries something he absolutely hates, Eddie will have part of the other half and either shame Steve for his horrible picky taste or break the food apart to toss through the slats to see who can get closer to getting their piece in the pool. Steve wins that game a lot.

When the food starts thinning out, Steve tells Eddie how he partially wishes the lies his mother told him to tell the others were true. How he wishes he was in college doing something instead of staying at home because he hadn't gotten into any college. Eddie tells him how he flunked out three times before he dropped out of high school. The catering job is just for the night as he samples around what he wans to do. Steve admires him for that.

They make plans as if they were going to run away together. Where they would go and what they would do if they could. Steve would teach kids and Eddie would play guitar for a living. As the night goes on, Steve is almost convinced that their dreams could maybe become a reality.

From the balcony, they can hear the distant cheers of a New Year's countdown. "Think we could do it this year?" Steve asks, countdown to eight.

"Run away together?" Eddie asks, countdown six.

"And make the life we want," Steve replies sincerely, countdown to four.

Eddie pauses and considers for a moment. "I would love to," he replies and leans forward, countdown to one.

Steve meets him in the middle and kisses him as if it this was possible and he could turn his dreams into a reality. He breaks away and whispers, "Happy New Year, Eddie."

"Happy New Year, Steve," Eddie replies smiling against his lips.

Steve kisses him again knowing his parents are going to be screaming at him later, but it won't matter when he's packing his bags for the New Year.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things

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mythicmanuscripts · 1 month

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I keep thinking about how both Jace and Aemond must have some serious insecurities about how they look. For Jace obviously it’s tied to his dark hair and bastardry. For Aemond it’s his eye. Certainly nobody could go through that kind of horrific injury at such a young age and not have long lasting physical and mental trauma from it.

So anyway I just imagine you cuddling with Jace one evening in bed or finding him on the balcony of Dragonstone and coming up to him and wrapping your arms around him from behind as he’s pouting after a tiff with his mom. And you run your fingers through his curly hair and kiss his head and remind him that you love his beautiful dark hair. And maybe that can’t fix the issues that may come from his parentage, but hearing your praise definitely helps him accept himself a little more.

Meanwhile I feel like Aemond would be sooo bad at accepting praise over his looks at first. He’s fine at accepting compliments on his swordsmanship or his excellent high valyrian. He’s been trained by Cole in the former and plenty of people have lauded him for his skills before. He can accept that kind of praise because he’s worked hard on those skills for years so of course he’s good. (Of course, when you praise him for these things, he stands a little taller and a little prouder.) But when you compliment his looks he falters. It must be a joke right? And you have to assure him over a long period of time that you really mean it when you brush your fingers through his hair and call him handsome. Or trace his scar gently with your fingers and call him beautiful.

Uuuugh I just need these boys to feel loved and appreciated and valued :(

You’re so right anon!!! I love all of these thoughts.

There’s nothing too NSFW in my answers so I won’t add a cut but there is implied sub!jace and sub!Aemond so bare that in mind before scrolling :))

JACE:

So obviously we all know Jace’s insecurity stems from people doubting his parentage and saying he’s a bastard because of his appearance. The response he usually gets from others he’s close to when these insecurities or doubts arise is to tell him that he has his father’s name and no one can prove he’s a bastard and Rhaenyra certainly won’t admit it to him.

So I actually think the best way to help Jace might actually be to acknowledge it? Everyone else tries to convince him otherwise or dance around it. Instead, you tell him that he very well might be a Strong bastard but that changes absolutely nothing to you because he’s still the same person he’s always been and you still love him.

The first few times you do this jace just rolls his eyes and assumes you’re just trying to be nice. But then he starts to speak more to you and engage with you and be vulnerable and then he starts to realise that actually you’re completely serious.

When those insecurities rear their head, you always pull him into your arms first and promise him that you will always love him. Then you like to run your hands through his hair and tell him how pretty he is, how you have the best looking husband in all the seven kingdoms.

That last part always gets him to blush and then he sort of just collapses against you and wraps his arms around your shoulder to keep steady. You let him hide there, holding him around the waist and the moment he starts to stand up again you pull him back and tell him to take all the comfort he wants.

AEMOND:

Yeah I fully agree about the praise. Aemond wants to badly to be praised, especially about things he’s insecure about, but he can’t believe it. The first few times he actually thinks you’re mocking him because he just can’t understand how you could possibly find any part of him attractive.

I think the best way to start is to sandwich a compliment he’s not used to between two compliments he is used to, or at least between between two he might actually understand. Now this method works very well for helping him open up and accept your praise, but also you’re giving him three compliments in short succession so he may malfunction for a moment.

The first time you did this he drops the flagon of wine he was carrying. He came believe how many night things he just heard.

I also think he takes things better when you’re touching him at the same time? Like you don’t just call him pretty, you trace his father with your thumb and kiss his nose and jaw. He’s practically jelly when you do this, entirely overwhelmed.

Aemond really struggles to understand why anyone would ever compliment his appearance, so it definitely takes a long time to sink in. What really helps is consistency, telling him all the time and never wavering.

At the end of the day, no matter how insecure he is, he still wants to please and obey you and so if you tell him he’s pretty then he has to get it because he won’t fight fight you on it.

I also think a big stumbling block in this process is the fact that Aemond can actually be really affected by those around him and what they say to him? He’ll act like it doesn’t affect him but then the next time you’re complementing him, he can’t stop thinking about the way someone earlier had insulted or judged him.

You start a rule where he has to tell you whenever someone says something bad about him to him. At first he's shy about it, mumbling whatever was said so softly that you can barely understand what he's saying.

But after a while he actually starts to love being able to go to you to tell you these things because he always get praised and kissed and it makes him feel so good.

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 3 months

Text

Bikini Body 👙 (Poly!KiriBakuMina x Fem!Chubby!Reader 18+ One Shot)

"So much for not coming out of that bikini."

Pairing: Kirishima Ejirou x Mina Ashido x Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Chubby!Reader

Synopsis: In which your boyfriends and girlfriend decide to show you just how good you look in your new bathing suit one hot summer day on the beach.

Warnings: Fluffy Smutty Smut; 18+; AgedUp!KiriMinaBaku; Poly Love; Oil Massages in Inappropriate Places; Tongue Kissing; Strip Tease; Ice Play; Fingering; Clit Stimulation; Masturbation; Daisy Chain; Double Blowjob; Mutual Oral; Doggystyle; Kissing While Fucking; Public Sex; Creampies; Aftercare Cuddling

Writer's Note: This is based off a request I did for someone last summer, but it was unfortunately flagged. I decided to revise it & add Bakugou’s fine ass because I can’t get enough of them poly relationships. Enjoy! -Jazz

********

“Kiri, honey, playing with my bikini isn’t gonna make me come out of it any quicker…or at all.”

“Why noooot?” Kirishima pouts as he lays on his back beside you, his abs deliciously coated in sun tan oil. His fingers toy with the ties on your bikini bottoms, his hand brushing against your thigh here and there.

“You too, Katsuki,” you critically say, giving the blonde a glare from behind you.

He glares despite his hand blantally laying on your ass while he sips his water bottle. “Tch! You’re hallucinating, you crazy girl.” His body, toned by years of training, is also shining with oil.

You’re currently reading and sitting on your stomach on the cushioned bed provided by the private cabana he, Kiri, and Mina rented for this particular beach trip. It’s big enough to house six people and comes with a bed, furniture, and silk curtains that provide privacy from the rest of the beach-goers and relief from the hot, blinding sun beyond.

“Because I’m not in the water,” you reply matter-of-factly. “And I’m not gettin’ a tan, so what’s the use of takin’ it off?”

You flip to the next page in your book, doing your best to ignore Kiri’s pouting and Bakugou’s childish glare. “You’re lucky I even decided to come out in this. You know I don’t exactly have a bikini body like Mina.”

“Who said what about me?” Mina asks, entering the cabana. She’s holding a plate of juicy-looking fruit in one hand and sun tan oil in the other. “Went back to the hotel to get some stuff. And I bought snacks!”

When she saunters into the cabana, you can't help but admire the body of your girlfriend–she’s all lean muscle with perky tits and an ass you could bounce a quarter off of; not an inch of fat anywhere that could disrupt the aesthetic of her gold string bikini that brings out the pink of her skin and curly hair.

Her body is the total opposite of yours and you are now hyper aware of it after Mina forced you to pick out a bikini while shopping for your couples’ beach trip. You are much bigger with extra fat layering your body. You come with thick thighs, large breasts that require a bikini top with bigger cups, jiggly arms, back rolls, and a soft, pudgy stomach that jiggles when you make even one move.

You’re chubby–that’s just a fact. Though you know that realistically it isn’t a big deal…but when the summertime hits, it’s a different story.

You’re nervous to wear certain clothes that would show off your body, like tight-hugging dresses that would show off your rolls and shorts due to your thighs constantly rubbing together. You’re so afraid of the looks and the words that you’d see in people’s mouths, criticizing your size. You barely have any bathing suits in your closet because of this.

But when you met Kiri, Bakugou, and Mina a couple months ago and started dating, they had no problem with your shape or size. In fact, they adored it. They always made a point to boost your confidence by giving you compliments on your outfits or touching you on a whim–Mina might wrap her arms around your waist; Kiri will pick you up and squeeze you tight; Bakugou might slap your ass just to hear you squeal.

And though you appreciate your efforts, they don’t quite meet the goal of making you feel more comfortable in your body. Especially out in public.

“Oh, look, baby!” Kiri cheerfully announces, smiling smugly at you. “Mina got sun tan oil! Now you have to take it off.” You peer down at him in his shark-printed swim trunks that don’t do much to hide what he’s packing. Toss in the washboard abs, big biceps, and tree trunk thighs, and Kiri is a walking, talking wet dream.

Bakugou is just as bad. He is as tall as his and your boyfriend Kiri with a body that fills out his orange swim trunks. You can’t help but ogle at his thick, muscular thighs and big pecs you’d like to motorboat.

You already know people often wonder how someone like you managed to bag someone like him, Kiri, and Mina–three rich, famous, sexy individuals.

“I’m not taking it off,” you sternly reply. “And that’s final. I don’t need any sun tan oil anyway.”

Bakugou scowls at you. “What, you tryin’ to burn?”

Mina scoffs, climbing up onto the bed after lowering the fruit on the table next to you with a pitcher of ice sit. “What?! Then you’ll be all sunburned! You need some color on this skin, babe, and the sun is the perfect way to do that.” She moves toward you, nuzzling her face into your neck. “C’mon; don’t you want our friends to know that you took a nice trip to the beach when we get back home?”

“They’ll know from the pictures,” you passively say, flushing at the scent of mangos in Mina’s hair and Kiri’s soft nibbles on your jiggly thigh. “You three go ahead and enjoy the sun though. I’m good here.”

“Nonsense!” Kiri scoffs, sitting up next to you now. “There will be plenty of time for the sun and water once we prepare for the sun rays.” He takes the sun tan oil from Mina, smirking at both of you girls. “And once I get my hands on you two. I can’t tell you how good you girls look in those bikinis.”

Bakugou shoots him a sharp look under his sunglasses. “Greedy bitch,” he growls. “I’m here too, y’know. I’ve already gotta share what’s mine, so why leave me out?”

Kiri pokes his pierced bottom lip out at the platinum blonde. “Aw, ‘Suki, I’m sorry,” he coos. “You look good in your bottoms too.” He moves in to give him a kiss, but Bakugou pegs a piece of watermelon at him, earning a laugh.

You flush at Kiri’s suggestive comment while Mina giggles. “Why, thank you, babe,” she coos, leaning over you to give Kiri a peck on the lips. “We wore ‘em just for two.” She pecks Bakugou on the lips too, much to his enjoyment.

“Didn’t we, Y/N?” She runs her fingers over the string holding up your bikini top behind your back, her glossy lips at your ear. “You sure you don’t want a rub down?” she purrs. “I could do it instead of the boys. You know I’m good with my hands.”

‘You all are,’ you think, her suggestive tone pouring warmth into your core that distracts you from your book.

With the three of them so close and in such a semi-private place, it’s making it hard to not do what they want. But the idea of flaunting your body in or out of your bikini, even to them, still scares you. “I’m good,” you say, giving her a reassured smile. "You three enjoy yourselves.”

Though your partners don’t look happy with that, they leave you be regardless and instead indulge themselves in the oil. “Want me to rub you down, baby?” Kiri asks Mina, the pet name making your stomach flip even though it isn’t even directed at you.

“Yes, please,” Mina giggles.

“Uh-uh,” Bakugou demands, snatching the oil away from Kiri. “We’ll both do it. You take the top, I take the bottom.” Mina giggles, poking at his stomach. “Nasty man,” she tuts.

At the corner of your eye, you watch as she lays down on her stomach between Bakugou’s legs with her head resting on her arms while Kiri kneels above her. He squirts some oil into his big hands and rubs them together before starting on her back. He unties her bikini top, revealing her toned back, before firmly rubbing the oil into her skin. He takes his time kneading the oil into her back muscles and spine, his fingers expertly working over her skin.

Bakugou does the same, warming the oil up between his calloused hands. He then begins to work on her waist, kneading the oil into her pink skin, before gliding down to her legs toned from her pro hero work. His hands then begin to trail up and down her sides, pushing into her side muscles, until they finally move to her glutes.

Her gorgeous, firm glutes that you can’t help but stare at.

As he does, he gives Mina’s taut ass a firm spank, making her squeal. “It’s your fault, Pinkie,” he chuckles. “How the fuck can I focus on oilin’ you up when that thing is in my face?”

He then unties Mina’s bottoms, leaving her completely naked. Suddenly, you’re not paying any attention to your book anymore, instead watching your men massage your girlfriend’s ass. Her moans of enjoyment are soft yet arousing. Kiri and Bakugou seem to be enjoying themselves too judging by the little smirk that plays on their lips.

After a few minutes, Bakugou flips her over, revealing her toned stomach and naked, perky breasts to you and them. You can’t quite see what lies below her belly button where a diamond stud lies, but knowing that she is totally nude is doing things to you.

Kiri begins to massage her feet and ankles first before moving up to her calves and thighs, his fingers pressing and pushing into her muscles. Bakugou does her neck and shoulders. After a few agonizing minutes of working less androgynous zones, he moves up to her stomach and chest. You watch the oil dribble down her skin and over her hardened, dark pink nipples. The sounds that drip from her lips are beautiful and they make you clench your thighs together.

Bakgou suddenly turns his head to look at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Like whatcha see, mama?” He teasingly asks. “Y’know, we could do this for you too. Just need to take this off.” His fingers toy with the ties to your bottoms.

You press your tight together, uncertain. “I-I don’t know…”

“Are you scared someone might see?” Kiri curiously asks, pausing his massage. “We rented a cabana with curtains for a reason! Plus, we’re just massaging you. Nothing nasty…yet.” You and Mina slap his chest, earning a hysterical laugh. “I kid, I kid!” he cackles, raising his hands in defense.

“I don’t,” Bakugou bluntly says. But he never does.

“I’m just afraid someone might see me,” you timidly explain. “I had a cover-up on when we arrived, but now…” You look through the cabana curtains billowing in the summer breeze, the scent of sea salt and sand in it. Your cover-up is somewhere in the beach bag you lugged here but you know it wouldn’t make sense to put it on now.

Mina lays a comforting hand on your knee, smiling reassuringly at you. “No one’s gonna see you, cutie. And even if they do, they should be lucky to get an eyeful of all of this.” Her other hand runs over your thigh, caressing it. You whimper slightly at her touch as well as the looks Kiri and Bakgou give you.

“Okay,” you acquiesced with a defeated sigh, “but only the top.” Bakgou looks pleased, Kiri sighs in relief, and Mina squeals happily. “Now, put that damn book down and get that fuckin’ top off!” Bakugou growls.

“Yes, sir!” Mina giggles, sitting up to help you despite her very-nude body. Anyone could walk by now and peek in to see her and that ass.

You flush embarrassingly as she helps you untie your bikini top. Once it loosens, the cups fall off your chest, letting your breasts hang freely. Though they’re not as perky as Mina’s and don’t sit up on your chest, your partners still stare at them as if they are the most gorgeous things in the world. You even start to believe that they are.

You and Mina switch spots so you’re lying on your back now, as rigid as a board even as Kiri begins to massage you.

You have to admit that his hands feel good as he massages your legs and stomach. Though you flush and squirm slightly at his hands caressing your body, you start to relax and melt into his touch. Combined with the tropical scent of the oil and the sound of the beach outside the cabana, you’re in heaven. Your eyes flutter closed and suddenly, you don’t even care that your tits are out in a public place. “Mmm…”

“Just relax, mama,” Kiri encourages, a proud smile in his voice. “Let me know if you want me to stop or if a certain spot hurts.”

You slowly nod, melting further into the bed as he continues to press his fingers into the muscles beneath the soft, pudgy skin of your lower body. You’re so relaxed that you barely feel Mina’s hands begin to massage your breasts. Your eyes open to find her smiling down at you. “W-What are you–“

“Just massaging you, cutie. Don’t want your chest lookin’ like a raisin by the end of today.” She gives you a cheeky wink as her hands work along your breasts; teasing them; molding them; massaging the oil into the tender skin surrounding your areolas.

You can’t hold back the pleasurable moans and sighs at the sensations you’re feeling from both of your partners’ hands. But when Mina begins to pinch and tweak your nipples, you know that things are going too far. “M-Mina,” you stammer. “You shouldn’t…we shouldn’t–“

“Time to flip over,” Kiri announces. “Lemme see dat ass.”

Mina tuts, rolling her eyes at your boyfriend’s ridiculousness. “So childish.” You do as he orders and flip over, revealing your naked back and ass still in your bikini bottoms.

“My turn,” Bakugou growls, shoving Kiri out the way. “You’re takin’ too long, shark boy.”

Though you’re burning with embarrassment, you can’t help but love the way your hotheaded boyfriend’s firm but careful hands massage up and down your back. You relax further into the bed as all of your cares melt away.

When his hands trail down to your ass cheeks and he begins to massage there, you just about jump out of your skin. He knows that’s your weak spot! You want to protest, tell him to move his hands up, but it just feels too good! You didn’t realize how relaxing an ass massage truly is until now. “Ah,” you softly moan.

Bakugou chuckles at your verbal expression of pleasure. “You like that, baby?” he asks. You nod into the mattress, your eyes fluttering closed. “Good. I’m glad your feelin’ good. Shark boy and Pinky ain't the only ones who are good with their hands.”

Above you, Mina giggles. “Oh, we would know.”

You then suddenly feel her lips at your ear as her hands begin to caress your back, massaging your shoulders and neck. “You look so cute like this,” she murmurs. "So relaxed and comfortable. You and your body deserve to feel like this every single day.” Her words are oh-so sweet and they make you feel hotter than the sun under her and Bakugou’s hands.

You’re gone, drifting off into a realm of euphoria. You’re so relaxed that you barely feel Bakugou’s hands begin to wedge between your thighs. When you do, you’re too relaxed to stop him, your body like jell-O. All you can do is give a whine of protest as you feel his fingers brush your bikini-covered pussy.

“You feel tense here too, baby,” he coos. "Don’t worry; I know just the trick.”

He then begins to rub you through your bottoms, slowly stroking his fingers over your pussy. He takes his time, never going under your bottoms until he has your permission. “Fuck, ‘Suki,” you moan. “P-Please…keep going.” You lift your hips to give him more access, flushing when he, Kiri, and Mina begin to laugh at your neediness.

He slowly unties the strings holding your bikini bottoms up and when the summer breeze hits your skin, you softly sigh. You hate to admit how nice it feels to be naked.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Kiri groans from behind you. “And so wet. I bet that massage did the trick, didn’t it?”

Without receiving an answer, he begins to kiss your asscheeks while Bakugou begins to stroke your pussy, his fingers gliding across your slit and the underside of your sensitive little clit that has seemed to become more sensitive from the constant physical stimulation your body feels.

Your eyes flutter closed and your mouth forms the shape of an O as sparks of pleasure shoot from your clit into every part of your body. You know that you should stop. You know that anyone could look in and clearly find Bakugou playing with your pussy right now.

‘But this counts as a massage, right?’ You deliriously think. ‘He’s rubbing oil onto me.’ And he is. The oil staining his fingers makes your pussy nice and slick, making his ministrations that easier to do to you.

A soft moan makes you open your eyes, finding Mina above you with her legs spread. She’s leaning back against the pillows, running an ice cube up and down her stomach and chest. Your eyes catch each droplet that cascades down her soft, pink skin and across her hard nipples.

“Don’t worry about me, cutie,” she giggles. "Just felt kinda hot seein’ you and our boyfriends like that.” She then brings the ice cube to her mouth and sucks on it, causing water to dribble down her mouth and chin.

Your mouth becomes dry, suddenly parched for her. “You want a taste?” she teasingly asks, popping the cube in her mouth. You wordlessly rise onto your hands and knees to reach her and lean forward to press your lips to yours. Her lips are cold and wet but soft; intoxicatingly so.

Small moans leave your mouths as you kiss, tongues beginning to swirl with one another. The ice cube melts between your lips at the heat of your mouths and tongues, causing more water to dribble down your chins.

From behind you, Kiri groans in arousal. “Oh, now this is a sight,” he sighs.

Bakugou hums in agreement. “And a perfect angle.” As you continue to kiss Mina, you suddenly feel Bakugou’s face in your pussy where his tongue begins to caress every sensitive bit of it. “Bakugou!” you whine as his hands begin to massage your ass.

Kiri laughs, watching your boyfriend slurp at your cunt. “Y-You did that on purpose!” you whimper to Mina who deviously smiles at you.

“Maybe, maybe not,” she snickers. “But doesn’t his mouth feel so good on that pussy?”

As if to prove her point, Bakugou suckles gently on your clit, emitting a strangled moan from your lips. Mina giggles as she leans back, watching the show before her as her hand sneaks down between her thighs. “So much for not coming out of that bikini.”

You can concur. You were so adamant about not coming out of your bathing suit before. Now you’re completely nude with your man’s face in your pussy and your woman playing with herself in front of you as she indulges in your naked body.

Kiri shimmies up to Mina, standing up on his knees. “Your other partner needs some attention too, darlin’,” he says, suggestively jutting his hips towards Mina’s mouth.

She giggles sexily, using one hand to pull Kiri’s trunks down. His hard cock, pierced at the tip, springs to life, much to the delight of you and Mina. “Wanna get it wet for me?” He asks, smirking playfully at her. Wordlessly, she licks up, down, and around his shaft like it’s a big, juicy lollipop and begins sucking.

Kiri’s tilts his head back, his long, red locks cascading down his back and shoulders while Mina sucks him off, her fingers rubbing her pussy. Bakugou hums into your cunt, giving your ass a smack. You’re receiving both types of stimulation right now: visual and physical. It’s almost too much for you to bear.

Before you know it, minutes later, you’ve got your face planted in Mina’s pussy while Bakugou continues to mouth yours, your tongue stroking her inner walls. Meanwhile, she’s still sucking off Kiri, earning delicious, rasped moans and whines out of him.

Mina clenches her thighs around you and grinds her hips up into your mouth, her mellifluous moans filling the space of the cabana among the sound of the crashing waves and cawing seagulls.

She pulls away from Kiri, letting his cock slip out of her mouth. “God, yes!” she whines, her head thrown back against the pillows. “Such a good girl for me. You look so pretty like that.” Her one hand moves through your hair while the other lazily toys with Kiri’s cock, pumping it up and down.

Kiri hums, hands watching you and Bakugou at the same time. “She definitely does,” he agrees. “Toss your ass into his face, baby. You know he can take it.” He leans forward to smack your ass, making your pussy throb in Bakugou’s mouth.

As if agreeing, the blonde growls against your clit, sending vibrations throughout your body. And you do, unable to hold back anymore as his tongue strokes every sensitive bit of your pussy from the inside, his fingers still toying with your clit while you play with Mina’s.

Probably for anyone else, oral would be a simple way to get off in such a public place where you could possibly get caught. But not for you. As you get closer to cumming around Bakugou’s tongue, you beg him to stop and to fuck you instead. “I need you inside me,” you whine, shamelessly pushing yourself back into him. “Please! I’m begging you!”

It doesn't take long for you to turn into a needy, helpless slut in need of attention, and your partners know that.

So Bakugou wastes no time untying his trunks to free his throbbing, hard cock to you and finally sinking into the wet, velvet walls of your pussy that instantly clench around him. Kiri does the same to Mina, bending her over on all fours and sliding himself inside of her. You watch her reaction as Kiri finally slides home inside her just as Bakugou does to you, her pink lips falling open as a gasp exits her mouth.

Both of your boyfriends rock their hips into you and Mina almost immediately, their balls swinging against your clits. It’s making you see the entire galaxy behind your eyelids, feeling Bakugou’s heavy balls gently slap your rosebud. You can’t keep quiet, moans and gasps escaping you.

“God, you’re tight!” Bakugou grunts, gripping your hips for dear life. “Bet you needed this, hm? You wanted us to show you just how pretty you are in and out of that damn bikini, huh?”

He lifts one leg up and proceeds to beat your pussy all the way up, his dick stroking your inner walls until your tits are jiggling and the bed is rocking with every single thrust.

“You know you’re a pretty girl,” Kiri groans, reaching forward to stroke your lips while he continues to fuck Mina’s pretty, pink pussy. “You know that, right, mama?”

You whine in response as Bakugou rocks his hips back and forth, propelling you into that state of euphoria until you can hardly breathe.

“So cute!” Mina whines, her brows furrowed and her jaw dropped in pleasure. Her tits and ass are bouncing as Kiri pistons himself into her from behind. “Need you,” she whimpers. “Kiss me, baby.”

You lean in, connecting your lips in a sloppy, tongue-filled kiss that makes Kiri and Bakugou groan in pleasure watching their two girls sloppily kiss each other while getting fucked. “Goddamn, you two are so slutty,” Bakugou growls. “Only we can see you like this.” With one hand, he grips one of your heavy tits, massaging it. “You hear that, baby girl? You understand me?”

“I don’t think this is enough, Bakugou,” Kiri teasingly says. “I think she may need more after this.”

From behind you, Bakugou laughs but it sounds more like an evil cackle. “Like I was gonna stop here,” he huffs. “I still need to make you cum, and we’re not leavin’ here until you two are seein’ fuckin’ stars.”

“Same here,” Kiri replies, mirth and a challenge twinkling in his crimson eyes. “Let’s see who can make these cuties cum the quickest.” Bakugou smirks, up for the challenge.

Both of them are men of their words. After fucking your and Mina’s brains out to the point where you’re cumming all over Bakugou’s dick and screaming into a pillow to avoid gaining unwanted attention from beach-goers, you switch with her. You spread your thick thighs open and let Kiri fuck you on your back while she toots her ass up for Bakugou who fucks her into oblivion, his abs and body glinting in sweat and sun tan oil.

The sight of it is too much and you find yourself cumming again all over Kiri’s cock as Mina coaxes you to orgasm with her words. “You’re so pretty,” she babbles, her face hovering over yours while Bakugou fucks her from behind. “So pretty when you cum on that dick, babe.”

And that isn’t even the best part.

Even after Kiri maes you explode all over his cock and you greedily swallow every ounce of his cum when he fucks your pretty face, making your cheeks look full.

Even after you watch Bakugou cum deep inside of Mina and makes her clean it up, her tongue greedily licking up and down his dripping cock.

Even when Kiri strokes your hair and whispers compliments to you, telling you, “God, you’re so pretty. So hot when you take our cocks. You deserve all of this…all of our cum…”

Even after both he and Bakugou make you kneel before them and feed you their cocks again, bringing them to orgasm again while Mina eats your pussy from behind, giggling as you quiver and let out a third orgasm.

The best part to end the day is when you’re finally snuggled between your three partners as you lie spent and exhausted from the activities, nearly passing out on the bed as the mid-afternoon sun glints along the water.

You lay your head on Kiri’s hard chest, breathing in his scent of sunscreen, mangos, and sea salt as he strokes your hair. Mina lies between you and Bakugou, her front pressed against your back, and her fingers caressing your thighs and sides while Bakugou spoons her.

“Rest now, baby,” he coos to you. “And do it now because when we get back to the hotel, you ain’t sleepin’ at all.”

The devious giggles Mina and Kiri let out are enough to make you sleep with one eye open.

THE END.

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #my fic shit #bnha smut #bakugou x fem!reader #kirishima x fem!reader #mina x fem!reader #poly kiribaku #mina x kirishima #mina x bakugou #polyyyy

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diazsdimples · 4 months

Note

I'm here for bucktommy neck or forehead (MAYBE both 👀) kiss 😘

I gotchu, Di my love 🫡

Buck's mind swims deliciously as Tommy pulls out, and he bites back a whine as he feels every inch of his boyfriend slip from him, leaving him feeling empty and cold. His skin is buzzing with the aftershocks of an incredible orgasm, and he feels as though he's floating, like his brain is sitting gently on a cloud and drifting on by. He can feel the sweat cooling on his skin, his own cum splattered up his chest, and his body feels heavy, weighted down to the bed as if he were tied there. It takes all his effort to lift his arm, to reach out to Tommy, who is standing next to the bed, carefully cleaning off his softening cock.

He's beautiful. He's always beautiful, with his curly brown hair and his blue eyes and his toned chest, but right now, he's a goddamn vision. There's a fine sheen of sweat on his skin, and the muscles in his chest and stomach are glistening in the low light of their bedroom. He looks almost ethereal, as if he's glowing, and Buck can't look away. He reaches out a shaking hand, trying to wrap his fingers around Tommy's wrist and bring him closer.

"Come back to bed," he whispers, giving Tommy's wrist a gentle tug. Tommy smiles down at him, that soft, private smile, and then he's slipping back into bed, gathering Buck up in his arms. Buck settles into him with a contented sigh, snuggling against Tommy's chest.

"You tired?" He teases, and Buck nods, nuzzling his face into the side of Tommy's neck, pressing a soft kiss to his pulse point.

"A little," he admits quietly. He's all loose limbed and fucked out, and Tommy's arms around him make him feel as though he's being held together, catching him before he becomes boneless and falls apart.

Tommy cuddles Buck a little closer, his arms squeezing around Buck's waist, and he presses a kiss to Buck's nose, each of his cheeks, over each eyelid, a lingering one to his birthmark, and a final, sweet kiss in the middle of his forehead just below his hairline.

"You can sleep if you need to, baby. I'm here."

It's so tempting, Buck would love nothing more than to slip into the gentle haziness that's simmering around the edges of his consciousness, but he's sweaty and sticky, and covered in cum, and he knows he'll feel gross when he wakes up. It's with a considerable amount of effort that he lifts his head to gaze into Tommy's eyes.

"C'n we show'r?" he mumbles, chin digging into Tommy's pec as he speaks, and Tommy gives him a smile that can only be described as fond. He runs his hand through Buck's curls, pressing another kiss to his forehead, and nods.

"Yeah, 'course we can. C'mon."

Buck allows Tommy to coax him into a sitting position, his legs swinging over the edge of the bed, and he lets Tommy take his hand and lead him across the room and into the bathroom. Tommy turns the water on, and they wait for it to warm up, the bathroom getting steamier with each passing second. They stand there, pressed close to one another, and Buck wraps his arms around Tommy's waist, nuzzling into his shoulder, his lips moving in a slow, gentle pattern along his collarbone. Tommy's hands move soothingly up and down Buck's back, and he drops his head, pressing a kiss to the top of Buck's.

"You alright?"

Buck hums, nodding his head slightly, and he pulls away to meet Tommy's gaze.

"'m okay," he murmurs, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the corner of Tommy's mouth, which has curled into a smile. "'m just sleepy. And sticky."

"We'll fix that," Tommy tells him, his voice barely above a whisper. He brushes a curl from Buck's eyes, his fingers ghosting over the birthmark on his temple, and presses a kiss to the tip of Buck's nose. "Come on, in we get."

They step under the stream of water, and Buck groans, tipping his head back as the warm spray washes over his face, and his neck, and his shoulders. His body relaxes as the tension leaves him, and he sags forward, falling against Tommy's chest, and his boyfriend is there, ready to catch him. Tommy's arms come up around his waist, holding him close, and Buck nuzzles his nose into Tommy's collarbone, pressing a kiss to his chest.

"I love you," he whispers, his eyes fluttering closed, as Tommy begins to massage shampoo into his scalp. He leans into the touch, letting Tommy take care of him, and he sighs.

"I love you, too."

Buck drifts a little while Tommy washes him, rinses him off, and towel dries his hair. He can feel himself being manoeuvred back into the bedroom, being tucked into the bed with the covers pulled up to his chin. Tommy settles next to him and holds Buck from behind, pressing little kisses against his neck, the crown of his head, the backs of his ears. Buck can feel the heat radiating from his skin, and the gentle, steady beat of his heart against his back, and the way he's being held, safe and warm and secure, lulls him into a deep sleep.

He is happy, he is safe, he is loved.

Tagging some Bucktommy friends (sorry this one is a little shorter)

@theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @neverevan @wikiangela

@jesuisici33 @loveyouanyway @slightlyobsessedwitheverything (lmk if you want to be added or removed from this list)

#james answers things #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy ficlet #prompts #soft prompts #911 abc #911 #911verse #911 fanfic #buck x tommy #tevan #kinley #kinkley

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gejo333 · 1 year

Text

An Unexpected Match IV

DILF/DBF Miguel O’Hara x Female Reader

Pt. 1 Pt.5

Summary: After painfully finding out about Tyler cheating on you, you go to seek comfort in Miguel’s arms.

18+ Warning!!! This chapter will have a lot of smut.

I apologize for any grammatical mistakes I missed.

I didn’t reread over this yet cause I’m exhausted. But I will look over it tomorrow.

I think Friday is the best day for me to post. For now it will be once a week. But I’ll let you know if I’m able to post twice a week.

I’m sorry I haven’t posted this chapter sooner. I’ve been busy getting adjusted back to college.

Enjoy 💕

Wc: 3.5k

____________________________________________

Your eyes fluttered open, awakened by fingers gently brushing some of your hair out of your face. A smile graces your lips as you stretch your back slightly and wrap your arms around his neck. Miguel pulls your body against him, smiling down at you before he captures your lips into his. Even lying in bed with him, he still towers over you.

“Good morning.” You kiss him again as you brush some of his dark curly locks that were sticking to his forehead.

“Good morning, Hermosa. Did you sleep well?” Miguel smirked as he gazed down at your naked figure against him under the duvet.

“I did. Especially after you helped me last night.” You lightly chuckle as you get on top of Miguel, straddling his lap. You rest your hands on his broad chest as you smile at him. Miguel rests his hands on your hips, gently rubbing circles into them.

“I can help you again right now. How does that sound?” Your eyes widen, a smirk spreading on your lips as you feel Miguel’s morning wood against you. In one swift move, Miguel flipped you on the bed so that he was above you. His plush lips turned into a smirk as he leaned down and left kisses up your neck.

“Amor, how are you feeling?”

“Well, I’m feeling aroused right now.” You smile as you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in for a kiss. Miguel returns the kiss before he pulls away, smiling as he gently brushes his thumb across your cheek.

“I’m mean about last night. You came to me in tears. And you never told me what happened to you.”

A sigh escaped yours as your lips formed into a small frown. “You know how I’m feeling right now? I’m feeling not aroused anymore.” You slip from underneath him and get out of bed. You put on your panties and steal his sweatpants as you grab your hair tied to tighten the waistband. Then, you bend down to grab your tank top and put it on.

Miguel sighs, frustrated in himself for being his own cock-block. He gets out of bed, grabbing his boxers and another pair of sweats since you stole his before following you out of the bedroom and downstairs to the kitchen. It was still early morning and hours before Gabi would be dropped off from her sleepover.

“We should really talk about it. After almost a month of trying to get you back in bed with me, I didn’t expect you to come to me this fast. Is it about Tyler?” Miguel walks into the kitchen and leans back against the kitchen counter, watching you make coffee. He groans as he shifts his stance to shift his uncomfortable boner.

“Do you want milk in your coffee?” You ask him, grabbing the carton out of the fridge. Miguel moves behind you, trapping you against the counter as he gently takes the milk out of your hand, sitting down on the counter.

“Y/n, don’t ignore my question. Please answer me.”

You turn around, now facing him, and you raise an eyebrow. “Your seriously playing the authoritative card on me?”

Miguel glared softly at you as he put his arms on both sides of you and leaned down. “Don’t make me punish you. I’m trying to paw my hard erection away, but I can easily have you help me instead. Now tell me what happened last night.”

You look away from his gaze, surrendering as you bite your lip. A tear escaped as it fell down your cheek. Miguel’s gaze softened as he cupped your face and brushed away the tear.

“I caught Tyler in our bedroom with another woman.”

Hearing your words made Miguel’s blood boil. How could he cheat on such an amazing woman as you? It was downright horrible and idiotic.

“I’m so sorry, cariño.” Miguel wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest to comfort you.

“As soon as I saw it, I walked straight out of there and drove right to you. Though it was obviously over between him and me when I caught him, I know I still need to say it. But he’s probably been cheating on me for god knows how long. I should have ended it a month ago when my feelings changed.”

Miguel’s heart skipped a beat from hearing your last words. Did your feelings change for Tyler because of him? “A man like that doesn’t deserve you. You deserve a man who will always be good to you and who can give you the world if you desire it.” He gently lifted your chin slightly so you could look at him.

“Do you mean a man like you?” You chuckle from your small joke but stop when you notice the seriousness in his gaze.

“I am. “Miguel’s thumb gently brushed your lower lip before he leaned down and kissed you. Your arousal rushed back to your core as you deepened the kiss.

Miguel picked you up and sat you on the counter as he spread your legs and grabbed the back of your knees, pulling you closer to him. He pulled down your sweats and panties as his hand trailed up your thigh before his finger gently brushed your clit before inserting his finger inside of you.

Your grip around him tightens as a moan escapes your lips that were smashed against Miguel’s own. Miguel began a pace, adding a second finger inside you as his lips trailed from your lips down to your neck. With his other hand, he removed both your tank top straps as he lowered your top, revealing your breasts. A gasp left you as you felt him rubbing your nipples. Miguel smirked as he captured his lips on yours as his tongue entered your mouth. You feel your core tighten as you clasp around his fingers.

“Miguel.” You whine as he removes his fingers from you just when you are about to orgasm. Miguel chuckled from your pout as he kissed your lips while lowering his sweats and boxers, revealing his throbbing member, drips of precum leaking from the tip. He grabs you by the thighs and pulls you off the counter before turning you around and bending you over.

He leans over you as he kisses your back to your neck before whispering in your ear, “Let me make you feel good, amor.” Miguel spreads your legs apart with his hand before you feel his tip brush against your sensitive, wet folds.

You bite your lip as you feel him slowly enter inside you.

“Let me hear your sweet voice.” Once he knew you were ready, he almost completely slid out before he rammed back inside you. He grabbed your hips to help steady his rough pace into you.

“Miguel.” You moan out his name as he stretches you the deeper he gets, making your eyes almost roll behind your head. Miguel pulls your hair back lightly, raising your head as he kisses your neck.

“I don’t know what you do to me, cariño. I can’t control myself when I’m around you.” Miguel’s teeth gently grazed your skin, sending shivers down your spine to your tightened core. His hand lowered to your clit as he began to rub it in circles; a long groan escaped you from the increase in pleasure.

“Miguel, I’m-uhh.” You lowered your head to the counter as you released yourself. A groan escaped from Miguel as he felt you tighten around him. A few thrusts more, and he spilled deep inside you. Miguel lightly rested his body against yours, sweaty skin and skin as he kissed the back of your neck. “Thank you, amor.”

The doorbell rang, making Miguel groan in frustration as he removed himself from you, tucking himself back into his boxers and sweats.

You quickly lift your panties and sweat as you fix your tank top. Another ring from the doorbell echoed through the house.

“Is it Gabi?” You ask Miguel as you clean the kitchen. Miguel looks back at you with the same perplexed look as you. “She should be at soccer practice right now. Stay here.” Miguel walks to the door and opens it. His eyes go wide.

“Hey, Sam,” Miguel says loud enough for you to hear as you quickly make it upstairs to his bedroom. Why would your father be here this morning?

“Hey Miguel, sorry, was I interrupting anything?” Sam chuckled, noting Miguel’s bare, sweaty chest.

“Just had a quick workout. That’s all.”

“I bet it was a workout. Glad you’re getting some action.” Sam chuckled as he pat Miguel on the shoulder before walking inside, which was normal. If it was normal circumstances. But with you upstairs in his bedroom, Miguel was nervous to have his close friend in his living room.

“What’s with the surprise visit? Everything alright?”

“Actually, it’s about y/n. She didn’t come home last night.” Miguel’s heart raced in his chest. It’s only been one night. How is it possible that they could have been caught? “Usually, Sarah and I are fine with it. She would be at her apartment, but Tyler came asking to see y/n this morning. I was just wondering if you’ve seen her.” Sam added as he headed towards the kitchen.

“How about we stay in the living room, Sam,” Miguel suggested as he tried to get ahead of him. It was too late as Sam entered the kitchen. However, Miguel sighed in relief when he found you weren’t there anymore.

“What’s up with you this morning? You’re a bunch of nerves right now.” Sam chuckled as he gave Miguel a confused look. He then noticed the two mugs of coffee on the counter. “Ahh, I see. You have a lady here. I’ll be on my way then. Let you get back to her. But please give me a call if you do see y/n.”

“I will. I’ll see you later, Sam.” Miguel gave him a small smile before walking to the door and saying goodbye.

Miguel took a deep breath as he closed the door before breathing out. That was a close call. Too close. He walked back upstairs to his bedroom, where he saw you dressed in your clothes from yesterday.

“From the looks of it, I guess you heard the conversation.” Miguel sighed as he grabbed a shirt from a drawer and put it on.

“Yeah, I did. I can’t believe that bastard came to my house this morning. But I must go there to tell my parents I’m fine. I’m sorry that you had to lie to my father. But thank you.” You finish putting on your shoes before you stand up and walk over to Miguel.

“It’s alright. We need to figure out our relationship before dealing with everyone else. When the time comes, it might not be a pretty reaction.” Miguel chuckled as he held you in his hand and gazed down at you with loving, soft eyes.

“Well, for now, that’s a future problem. Right now, I have to deal with the problem waiting for me currently at home. Wish me luck.” You sigh, a small smile on your face as you go on your toes to kiss him.

“If you’re free, would you want to come for dinner tonight?” Miguel’s breath went still, awaiting your answer. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he saw that beautiful smile on your lips.

“I would love to. I’ll see you later today, then.” Miguel leads you downstairs, giving you a loving kiss goodbye before you sneak out of his house, checking to ensure no neighbors see.

You get into your car and drive down the street to your childhood home. You groan in annoyance when you see a familiar sports car parked out front. Of course, the asshole was still here, waiting to plead his case to you.

As you walk in, you hear Tyler talking with your parents. All heads turned towards you when you entered the living room.

“Y/n! Thank god you are safe. We were all so worried.” Your mother hugged you, which you gladly accepted before pulling away.

“Tyler, what are you doing here? It was pretty obvious that we ended things when I caught you cheating on me. So get out.” You sent him a nasty glare as a gesture for him to leave. Tyler stood up from the sofa and walked up to you, trying to caress your cheek, but not before you quickly stepped away from him.

“Kitten, I’m sorry. It was a dumb mistake on my part. Please, let’s put this past us. Come here.” Tyler walked closer to you again as he brought you into a hug. You tried to push away, but his grip around you was strong.

“Tyler, let me go. We are over!” Tears began to spill from your eyes, overwhelmed by heartbreak. Your stomach rose, sick to your stomach as Tyler caressed your face.

“You’re just emotional and angry at the moment, so you’re not making the best choices.” Tyler leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You immediately removed your lips and pushed him away before a loud smack echoed.

Tyler’s face turned to the side, a red mark on his cheek. He turned to you with a smirk. “OK, fine. I deserved that. But let’s sit and talk things out. Right, Sarah? Sam?”

“Mom? Dad?” You look to your parents, confused and angry by Tyler’s last words.

“You’re mother can speak for this. I’m not part of this. I can’t entirely agree. But as you can see, your mother is glaring daggers at me.” Your father sighed, shaking his head.

“Care to explain, Mom?”

“I think you’re making a mistake. Yes, I’m mad that he did that to you, but you have been so happy with each other. It’s been so good. People make mistakes. You should talk it out and forgive him.” Your mom walked over to you as she tried to brush some of your hair behind your ear. However, you pulled back. Your heart aches for another reason now.

“I’m leaving. I’m not living here.” You leave as you head up the stairs to your room, where you begin to pack a suitcase with clothes and necessities.

You text Stephanie asking if you could crash for a week while you try to find a new place to live, which your best friends happily agree to. After packing, you left downstairs, where your parents and Tyler tried to reason with you to stay. Tears still slip down your face as you keep the silent treatment as you walk out the door.

———

One month later

“I found a few places on the market in my price range. Do you want me to look at them and help me out?” The phone rested against your shoulder, your head holding it as you multi-take with chopping vegetables.

“Totally! I love that type of shit! Our own version of house hunters.” Stephanie said on the other end of the call.

“Perfect. Thanks again for letting me crash at your place. It means a lot.”

“Of course! You always have a place to stay with me. Plus, you did pay for half the rent this month, which you insisted upon. I must finish this deadline, but I’ll see you later tonight.”

“OK, cool. See you later. Bye.” You end the call as you continue with your task. You heard the front door open and close as you heard light, quick footsteps approaching the kitchen before you felt small arms wrap around you.

“Hi, my baby bug. How was practice?” You set the knife down as you lean down and return the hug.

“I scored two goals!” Gabi released you from the hug as she jumped in excitement from telling her news.

“Omg, that’s amazing Gabi! I’m so proud of you! I wish I was there to see it!” You jump in excitement along with her as you lightly lift her up and twirl her around before setting her down. You then take the carrot sticks, put them in a bowl, and hand them to Gabi.

“Can I please have hummus with my carrots?” Gabi asked.

“Of course.” You go to the fridge to grab the hummus tub and grab a spoon to scoop some for Gabi.

You walked into Miguel’s office once you helped Gabi settle down in front of the TV to watch cartoons.

“Hi.” You say as you walk up towards the sexy workaholic. You lean against his desk as you gaze at him, staring at the multiple screens of complicated equations. “I don’t know how you can understand what’s on that computer. That looks like numbers, letters, and scribbles to me.” You giggle, which makes a smile appear on Miguel’s face, earning you a small victory and, finally, his full attention.

Miguel moved before you, putting his arms around you and pulling you against him. “I’m sorry amor. You have my full attention.” Miguel smiled lovingly down at you before kissing you passionately on the lips.

You pull away after a heated kiss, a string of saliva the only thing still connecting you both. A naughty thought came to your mind as you gently moved away from Miguel and went to lock the door.

“What’s on your mind?” Miguel smirked as he caught your lustful gaze. You walk up to him and slowly drag your hands down his chest before gently pushing him to sit on his desk chair.

“You’re smart; I think you can easily figure it out.” You get on your knees and settle between his legs as you unzip his pants and free his half-hardened cock.

A few strokes from your hand brought it fully to life. You dragged your tongue up his member before kissing his leaking tip, your gaze not leaving him once. You open your mouth for him to slide onto your tongue and down your throat.

“You treat me so well, Hermosa. I don’t deserve you.” Miguel moaned out as his hand reached the back of your head. His fingers intertwined into your hair as he gently thrusts into your throat. You hum against his cock in approval, earning another groan from Miguel’s lips, music to your ears.

“Your mouth is heaven. You can take more of me, can’t you, amor?” Miguel gently thrusts more of himself into your mouth; luckily, you were able to stop your gag reflexes from kicking in as you continued to move your tongue along his cock.

Miguel groaned in pleasure and frustration when he heard your phone buzz for the millionth time against the desk. He rolled his eyes, knowing already who was calling you.

Since you broke up with Tyler a month ago, he has been spamming you with messages and calls to get you back. Finally having enough of it, he picked up your phone and took of photo of you sucking him off. It’s not the first time he’s taken a video or photo of your sexual activities between the two. Whether that’s sliding his fingers or cock into your wet folds, fucking you in different positions.

He then sent the photo to Tyler, saying, She’s busy! Stop calling her.

“That should get him to stop. Fuck, I can’t last much longer.” Miguel set your phone back on his desk before he gently thrust a few more times before spilling it into your throat. You swallow every drop, licking his tip clean before wiping any left off your lips.

Standing up from your previous position, Miguel grabs your hips and pulls you on his lap, straddling you. Your eyes widen when you feel him grow hard again as he lifts your skirt slightly and moves your panties to the side before pushing himself inside you.

“H-How are you hard again? I just sucked you off.” You gasp, eyes wide, as you feel his erect cock enter your dripping cunt.

“You should know by now how strong my stamina is, cariño. We have been fucking for a month. “Miguel chuckled as he grabbed your hips and slammed you down onto him, and began a rough pace, way fast from the earlier throat fucking.

After two rounds, you rested your head against his chest, trying to catch his breath as you felt him spill deep inside you. Miguel removed himself from you, putting himself away as he peppered your face with loving kisses.

“So when will you tell me you’ve been homeless for a month?”

“I’m not homeless. I’ve been staying at Stephanie’s apartment until I can find one. I’m going to a few open houses this weekend.”

“You won’t need to go to any open houses. I found you the perfect place.”

“Where?” Your brows furrowed as you smiled up at him in confusion. Miguel smiled as he kissed you fondly.

“Here. Move in with me and Gabi.”

____________________________________________

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 9 months

Text

Underneath The Tree.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

in which, since officially dating harry for a total of eight years now, courting for three, being married for three and parents for two, you’ve both given each other, such wonderful gifts over the years, and here’s a few of them.

word count - 4.2k

December 25th, 2016.

The soft glow of Christmas lights adorned the living room, casting a warm ambiance that enveloped you and Harry. Nestled next to the adorned tree, its branches cradling memories of past and present, you shared the magic of your first Christmas together. The room echoed with the subtle crackling of a fireplace, dancing flames adding to the festive charm.

In the quiet moments between the two of you, the air was filled with a sense of coziness and joy. Harry's arm wrapped gently around you, you both sat in a peaceful embrace, savouring the serenity of the holiday. The scent of pine wafted through the room, mingling with the sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies—a joint effort earlier in the day as you navigated the kitchen together, sharing laughter and flour-dusted kisses.

Later in the day, you would venture to each other's families, weaving through the tapestry of traditions that made your bond even richer. Yet, in this tranquil interlude by the tree, you found the essence of the season—wrapped in love, shared glances, and the promise of many more Christmases to come.

But for now, it was time to give each other the main presents that you got each other.

Harry, with his long, curly hair tied into a messy man bun, looks comfortably relaxed in joggers and a hoodie. The anticipation lingers in the air as you hand him a beautifully wrapped gift, a twinkle in your eye.

"Go on, open it," you encourage, a smile playing on your lips. Harry's eyes light up with curiosity as he tears away the wrapping paper, revealing a sleek box. When he opens it, he's met with a pair of tickets nestled within. His gaze flickers from the tickets to you, confusion and surprise etched on his face.

"Two tickets to a weekend retreat," you announce, your excitement bubbling over. "I thought it would be a perfect getaway for us."

Harry looks at the tickets, then back at you, a mixture of disbelief and joy in his expression.

"Seriously? How did y’manage this?" he asks, his voice a blend of curiosity and amusement.

You chuckle, enjoying his reaction.

"Well, I may have had a little chat with management," you tease, a mischievous grin dancing on your lips. "We leave Monday."

Harry's eyes widen, and a grin slowly spreads across his face.

"You're amazing," he declares, pulling you in for a deep, appreciative kiss. The warmth of the moment deepens as you share laughter and excitement, the promise of a spontaneous adventure adding a special spark to your first Christmas together.

With a grin that mirrors your own excitement, Harry reaches for a set of beautifully wrapped packages.

"Y’turn," he says, handing them over with a twinkle in his eye. Eagerly, you begin to unwrap them, revealing two elegant jewellery boxes. Your curiosity piqued, you open the boxes to find matching gold cross necklaces nestled inside, one for you and one for Harry.

His eyes lock onto yours, a mix of anticipation and affection.

"I thought it would be something meaningful f’both of us," he explains, his voice soft with sincerity. "T’have a piece of each other wherever we go."

You're touched by the thoughtful gesture, and a warm smile spreads across your face. "They're beautiful, H. I love them."

He grins, clearly pleased with your reaction.

"I wanted something that would symbolise our connection," he continues, reaching over to take one of the necklaces out of the box. "Here, let me put y’on."

As he clasps the delicate chain around your neck, the weight of the cross feels like a tangible bond between you. You watch as Harry puts on his own necklace, the matching gold crosses now adorning both of you.

"They say gold represents enduring love," he says, his gaze lingering on the necklace. "I thought it was fitting f’us."

You reach over and gently touch the cross on his chest, a silent acknowledgment of the sentiment. "It's perfect, H. I couldn't have asked for a better gift."

December 25th, 2017.

The second Christmas together unfolds with an air of shared warmth and familiarity. The room is adorned with the soft glow of lights, casting a warm ambiance that complements the joy in the air.

As you hand Harry a meticulously wrapped gift, there's a twinkle in your eye, knowing that this particular present holds the potential for genuine surprise.

Harry, with his short, cropped hair for a recent film role, receives the gift with a curious gleam in his eyes.

The wrapping paper gives way, revealing a framed Manchester United shirt inside. His expression shifts from curiosity to delight as he takes in the iconic red and white stripes.

His fingers gently trace over the imprinted name of his all-time favourite player, Rio Ferdinand.

"No way," he breathes, his voice a mixture of shock and excitement. "S’this real?"

Your smile widens, a blend of amusement and satisfaction. "It's not just any shirt. Open it up."

Harry lifts the frame, his eyes widening in astonishment as he discovers Rio Ferdinand's unmistakable signature proudly adorning the shirt.

A gasp escaped his lips. "This is signed by Rio Ferdinand! How did y’manage t’get this?"

You nod, your eyes sparkling with the joy of the surprise. "I thought you might like a piece of your football hero to hang on the wall."

Harry, still processing the unexpected revelation, is at a loss for words. "Y’didn't tell me it was signed! This is incredible."

Your laughter fills the room, a musical backdrop to the shared moment. "I may have wanted to see your reaction. It's all worth it now."

As Harry continues to marvel at the framed treasure in his hands, you explain how you orchestrated the surprise – a combination of connections and a bit of good luck.

The story adds depth to the gift, turning it into a tale of effort and thoughtfulness.

"You're sneaky, but I love it. Thank you so much," he finally says, his eyes reflecting both disbelief and gratitude.

The room is now charged with a shared sense of joy, the surprise gift becoming a centerpiece of your second Christmas together.

The evening unfolds with a tapestry of conversation, weaving through stories of football matches, childhood dreams, and the journey of the past year.

The framed, signed shirt becomes a symbol of shared passions and thoughtful gestures, creating a memory that adds another layer to your evolving story as a couple.

Harry, still in awe of the gift, reflects on the impact football has had on his life. "Y’know, I used t’dream about playing on a big stage like that, with thousands cheering. S’funny how a game can shape y’dreams."

He always told you that when he was little he used to want to be a footballer like Rio, but then that changed and he studied law at college and now he was a household name.

You nod, captivated by the sincerity in his voice. "Football has a way of connecting people, inspiring dreams, and creating memories. I thought having a piece of that magic would be special for us."

Harry gazes at the framed treasure, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips. "You've given me more than just a signed jersey. You've given me a piece of m’childhood dreams, wrapped up in our story."

The conversation takes a turn as you discuss plans for the future, prompted by the dreams sparked by the framed jersey.

"Maybe we can catch a live match together next year," you suggest. "Experience the energy and excitement of the stadium."

Harry's eyes light up with enthusiasm. "Absolutely! That would be incredible."

"Every time I look at this, I'll be reminded of this beautiful Christmas and the dreams we're weaving together," Harry says, his eyes reflecting gratitude.

December 25th, 2018.

The third Christmas together arrives, and the room is aglow with the warm hues of festive lights. You and Harry find yourselves seated next to the tree, the air filled with a blend of excitement and comfort as you exchange gifts. The last present of the morning rests in your hands, a mysterious package from Harry that adds an extra layer of anticipation to the moment.

With a playful glint in his eyes, Harry asks you to close your eyes, guiding you to stand up while holding your hands gently. The room is enveloped in a tranquil hush, creating an atmosphere charged with expectancy.

"Keep ‘em closed," Harry says softly, his voice carrying a subtle excitement. You nod, a mixture of curiosity and exhilaration building within you.

"Now, open y’eyes," he instructs, and as you do, the sight that meets you takes your breath away.

Harry is down on one knee, a small box in his hand, and his eyes gleam with a mixture of nerves and deep affection.

The room seems to hold its breath, and your heart quickens.

"Harry..." you begin, your voice barely a whisper, as tears of emotion pool in your eyes.

He smiles, a tender expression on his face. "M’love, I can't help but marvel at the journey we've embarked on together. This past year has been a beautiful chapter in the book of our lives, and with each passing moment, my love f’you has only deepened."

Harry's gaze intensifies, as if he's navigating the depth of his emotions. "I think about the laughter we've shared, the challenges we've faced, and the unwavering support we've provided each other. Y’been m’rock, m’confidante, and m’greatest source of joy."

The vulnerability in his voice resonates deeply, and your emotions swell. Harry takes a moment, as if savouring the significance of the words he's about to speak. "From t’moment we met, I knew there was something extraordinary about you. You've brought a richness to m’life that I never knew was possible, and with each passing day, I find new reasons to fall in love with you."

The room seems to hold its breath, captivated by the sincerity of Harry's words.

“Will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?"

The gravity of the question hangs in the air, and you're momentarily lost for words. The depth of his sincerity and the love reflected in his eyes create a poignant moment.

"Harry, I... yes. Yes, a thousand times yes," you finally manage to say, your voice a blend of joy and overwhelming emotion.

A radiant smile graces Harry's face as he gently slides the ring onto your finger.

"I love you more than words can express, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you," he declares, his words imbued with a profound sense of commitment.

The room is filled with a sacred pause as you share a tender moment, the promise of forever binding you together.

The ring catches the light, casting a mesmerising glow that seems to infuse the space with an ethereal quality.

"I never want to stop making memories with you," Harry whispers, his gaze unwavering.

December 25th, 2019.

The scent of fresh pine permeated the air, a gentle reminder of the majestic tree standing proudly in the corner, adorned with an array of ornaments and baubles. The flickering flames in the fireplace cast a warm, golden hue, creating a cozy ambiance that beckoned you and Harry into its .embrace

The plush carpet beneath your feet felt like a velvety extension of the holiday spirit, and the air hummed with a quiet anticipation. The room was a symphony of reds and greens, with stockings hanging from the mantelpiece like eager sentinels, waiting to be filled with festive surprises. A soft, nostalgic melody emanated from a record player, weaving through the air and adding a touch of timeless elegance to the surroundings.

The Christmas tree itself was a masterpiece, its branches adorned with an eclectic collection of ornaments—each one a cherished memory from the past four years.

It was the fourth Christmas you and Harry had shared, but this one held a unique significance – the first as his fiancée.

you handed Harry a meticulously wrapped box, a bow echoing the festive colors. Your eyes sparkled with excitement as he accepted the gift.

"Merry Christmas, my love," you said, your voice carrying the joy of the season.

With a playful grin, Harry began unwrapping the gift, curiosity dancing in his eyes.

"I wonder what m’soon-to-be wife has in store for me this year," he teased, fingers deftly peeling away the paper.

As Harry unwrapped the present, his eyes widened in surprise at the sight of a sleek Polaroid camera nestled within the box.

"A Polaroid camera?" he exclaimed, a mixture of curiosity and delight in his voice.

You smiled, your eyes meeting his.

"Yes, I thought it would be perfect for your upcoming tour," you explained. "I know you've been planning it for your new album, and I wanted to make sure you could capture every show and all those important moments, even when I can't be there with you."

His gaze softened with gratitude as he took in the thoughtful gesture.

"Y’always know how to make every moment special," he said, his fingers tracing the contours of the camera. "S’amazing. Now I can carry a piece of y’with me on the road."

"It's not just about the camera, H," you replied, your voice sincere. "It's about preserving the memories and creating a tangible record of your journey. You'll be surrounded by fans and experiences, and I want you to have a way to hold onto those moments, no matter where you are."

He nodded, a deep appreciation in his eyes. "I love that idea. It'll be like having y’right there with me, capturing the essence f’each show and the places we visit."

As he explored the features of the camera, you leaned in and gently kissed his cheek.

"Consider it a way to share the adventure, even when we're miles apart," you whispered, the promise of your love carried in those words.

December 25th, 2020.

It was your fifth Christmas with Harry, yet this year held an unmistakable difference. The world outside your cozy haven was in the grip of a global lockdown, casting a quiet stillness over the usually bustling streets of London.

Seated beneath the tree, mugs of hot cocoa cradled in your hands, you and Harry found solace in each other's company. The usual holiday gatherings and festivities were replaced by an intimate setting, the two of you wrapped in blankets as a subtle chill lingered in the air.

The hushed sounds of a city on pause created a backdrop to the crackling of the fireplace, weaving a bittersweet melody.

Despite the circumstances, the glow of the Christmas lights illuminated the room with a reassuring warmth. The tree, adorned with ornaments collected over the years, stood as a testament to the memories you and Harry had shared.

As you exchanged glances over the rims of your cocoa-filled mugs, a silent understanding passed between you—a recognition of the strength found in love during times of uncertainty.

Earlier in the day, you had eagerly presented Harry with your carefully chosen gift.

Harry, with a twinkle in his eye, promised that your present would be arriving shortly. As you sat by the tree, wrapped in blankets with mugs of hot cocoa in hand, anticipation hung in the air like a delicate melody.

Suddenly, a resonant knock echoed through the room, causing your heart to leap with excitement.

You bolted to your feet, the warmth of the blankets still clinging to you, and Harry, with a mischievous smile, motioned for you to close your eyes.

"Keep 'em shut, m’love," he urged as he went to answer the door.

Anxiously, you waited, the seconds stretching into an eternity.

"Okay, open your eyes," Harry declared.

As your eyes fluttered open, you were met with a sight that left you utterly and pleasantly surprised.

There, standing at the threshold with beaming smiles, were your mum and dad.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you rushed towards them, disbelief and joy mingling on your face.

"Mum, Dad, how...?" you stammered, enveloping them in a tight embrace. Harry stood back, his eyes gleaming with happiness at the success of the surprise.

Your mum, still holding you close, smiled warmly.

"We wanted to surprise you, love. We've missed you so much," she said, her voice choked with emotion.

Your dad, joining the embrace, added, "We took Covid tests and made the journey to be here for Christmas. It's been a tough year, and we couldn't imagine spending it without you."

As you all settled back under the tree, the room filled with the warmth of shared love and the rich aroma of cocoa.

"I can't believe you're here," you said, wiping away happy tears.

Your mum chuckled, "Nothing can keep us away from our family, especially not a lockdown."

Harry, having played a key role in orchestrating this heartwarming surprise, joined the emotional reunion.

"I may have had a small part in this surprise," he admitted with a grin. "Y’folks insisted on making y’Christmas special, and who was I to say no?"

The remainder of the evening unfolded in a beautiful blur of laughter, stories, and shared moments.

December 25th, 2021.

In the glow of the Christmas lights, you and Harry celebrated your sixth holiday season together, marking the second as a married couple.

The air was infused with a special kind of warmth, a blend of love and shared history that only deepened with each passing year. As the evening unfolded, you couldn't wait to exchange gifts, eager to see the joy in Harry's eyes.

After Harry opened the gift you had carefully chosen for him, his eyes lit up with appreciation.

"Y’always know how t’make everything feel magical," he said, leaning in for a sweet kiss.

You chuckled at his excitement, quoting one of his songs, "Looks like you've got no control, Harry."

His laugh echoed through the room as he playfully rolled his eyes.

"Okay, okay, I'll try t’contain m’excitement, but no promises," he teased.

You handed him a box, neatly wrapped and adorned with a bow.

"Merry Christmas, my love," you said, your heart fluttering with excitement. Harry eagerly tore away the tissue paper, revealing the contents of the box.

His eyes widened as he saw the pregnancy test and a tiny baby grow tucked inside.

He looked up at you, a mix of disbelief and joy on his face.

"Is this... is this real?" he asked, his voice filled with emotion.

You nodded, tears shimmering in your eyes as you confirmed, "Yes, H. We're going to be parents."

The room seemed to hold its breath as Harry processed the incredible news. His eyes never left yours as he carefully cradled the pregnancy test and the baby grow.

"I'm going to be a dad," he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and love.

You nodded again, unable to hold back the tears of happiness that now spilled freely.

"We're going to be parents, Harry," you whispered, reaching out to hold his hands. His grin stretched from ear to ear as he pulled you into a tight embrace, his excitement matching yours.

Amidst the soft glow of Christmas lights, you and Harry shared a moment that would forever be etched in your memories. The room echoed with laughter, love, and the promise of a new chapter.

As Harry held the pregnancy test and baby grow close, you both reveled in the magic of the season and the incredible gift of starting a family together.

December 25th, 2022.

In the soft glow of the seventh Christmas lights, your home was filled with a warmth that went beyond the twinkling decorations. This year marked a significant milestone as you and Harry celebrated your first Christmas as parents to a little two-month-old son named Arthur.

As the fireplace crackled, casting dancing shadows on the walls, you couldn't help but marvel at the joy that this tiny bundle brought into your lives.

Arthur's birth, just two months ago, was a moment etched in time. Contrary to expectations, his arrival was like a gentle whisper of snow – serene and magical. The labor was swift, and he seemed to come into the world with a spirit of lightness. With his shock of curls and green eyes that mirrored Harry's, Arthur was a testament to the beauty of new beginnings and the shared features of a loving family.

As the days turned into weeks, Arthur became a living embodiment of joy. His laughter echoed through the halls, bringing a sense of completeness to your home. His tiny fingers wrapped around yours, and his coos seemed to create a melody that underscored the holiday season. The Christmas tree, adorned with ornaments collected over the years, now held a new significance as it watched over your growing family.

Harry handed you a delicately wrapped gift, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. As Arthur lay peacefully in his arms, fast asleep on Harry's chest, you couldn't help but marvel at the scene of your little family by the tree. With a warm smile, you accepted the gift, eager to discover what Harry had chosen for you this Christmas.

Gently unwrapping the package, you revealed a small box, and Harry's eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"M’hope y’like it," he said, his voice soft. "S’something special."

Opening the box, you discovered a beautifully crafted bracelet, adorned with a charm that held Arthur's birthstone. Your eyes widened in awe as you traced your fingers over the delicate piece of jewelry.

"Harry, it's stunning," you exclaimed, your heart swelling with emotion.

Harry grinned, a mixture of relief and joy evident in his expression.

"I wanted y’to have something to always carry a piece of Arthur with you," he explained, his voice tender. "His birthstone seemed like the perfect way t’capture the magic f’the day he came into our lives."

You carefully fastened the bracelet around your wrist, the cool metal contrasting with the warmth of the moment.

"It's perfect, Harry. Thank you," you whispered, your gaze lifting to meet his. In that shared glance, you saw the depth of his love and the significance of the thoughtful gift.

As Arthur continued to slumber on Harry's chest, the three of you remained nestled by the Christmas tree.

"I wanted this Christmas to be extra special," Harry admitted, running his fingers through Arthur's soft curls. "With our little family, it already is."

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Harry's cheek.

"It's more than special, it's perfect," you assured him, your heart overflowing with gratitude for the thoughtful gesture and the love that enveloped you.

December 25th, 2023.

n the soft glow of the eighth Christmas lights, the air was filled with the warmth of shared love and the laughter of family. Under the twinkling tree, you, Harry, and your one-year-old son Arthur created a cozy scene.

Arthur, a complete daddy's boy, nestled on Harry's lap in his pajamas, his messy curls adding an adorable touch to the festive atmosphere.

As you handed Harry his gift, a smile played on your lips, anticipating the joy of the moment.

"This one's from both of us," you said, the excitement palpable in your voice. Arthur, sensing the festive spirit, wiggled in Harry's lap, his eyes wide with curiosity.

Harry's eyes twinkled as he took the gift, Arthur's little hands immediately reaching out to help unwrap it.

"Alright, little buddy, let's see what mama got me," Harry chuckled, sharing a conspiratorial glance with Arthur.

The room echoed with the sounds of paper rustling and Arthur's gleeful laughter.

As Harry unwrapped the present, revealing the photo book filled with memories, his eyes widened in surprise.

"S’this...?" he began, his voice catching with emotion. You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips, and Harry flipped the cover open to the first page.

The journey through time commenced with the first date, captured in a candid snapshot that froze the excitement of a budding romance.

"Wow, look at us," Harry chuckled, his fingers gently tracing the image. "Seems like a lifetime ago."

The pages turned, unveiling moments etched in your shared history— the first picture together back in 2015, the laughter and love evident in the captured smiles.

"Remember this?" you asked, a fondness in your voice.

As the pages continued to unfold, Harry's eyes moved to the night he proposed on Christmas Day back in 2018.

"That was the best Christmas ever," he reminisced, his gaze lingering on the image of that magical moment.

Arthur glanced at the photos in the book and , began hitting the pages, yelling "Dada" with infectious joy as he recognized the familiar face.

The journey of the photo book brought forth the day Arthur was born, a pivotal chapter that transformed your lives.

"Look at him, our little guy," Harry exclaimed, a proud smile on his face as Arthur gleefully pointed at pictures of his dada. "S’grown so much."

Amidst the turning pages, the room resonated with laughter, nostalgia, and the shared joy of reliving cherished memories.

"Y’captured every milestone, every smile," Harry remarked, his eyes expressing a depth of gratitude.

Arthur, fully engrossed in the photo book, continued hitting the pages with exuberance.

"Dada! Dada!" he repeated, his small hands reaching out as if trying to touch the images of his father.

As the journey through the photo book neared its end, Harry's eyes were filled with a mixture of love and awe.

"S’is the most thoughtful gift," he said, pulling you into a tender embrace.

"Thank you f’capturing our story."

381 notes · View notes

vanteguccir · 8 months

Text

── ୨୧ !　𝗗𝗔𝗗𝗗𝗬'𝗦 𝗙𝗔𝗩𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟

　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x mom!reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt realizes that his daughter, Eloise, has him tied up in her pinkie.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: No.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Matt!" Y/N called from the kitchen, lifting her chin so that her voice echoed better throughout the house, turning her attention back to the items in front of her as she began preparations for lunch.

"Daddy!" Eloise's thin, excited voice echoed through the kitchen, catching Y/N's attention, who momentarily turned back, her eyes finding her daughter.

Eloise sat cross-legged on her fluffy pink carpet, scattered around her were barbies while her little fingers held a mini pink pan and a mini purple spoon. In front of her, almost on top of her white sock-clad feet, she had a mini board with fake vegetables of all colors. The little girl had asked that her mother give her her kitchen toys, wanting to imitate her.

Eloise had an area with toys in each room of the house, and in the kitchen it was between the refrigerator and the counter, with a child-sized stove and refrigerator in neutral colors, full of plastic kitchen items in all colors, and a pink carpet on the front.

"Hi, my little dove." Matt replied, having entered the kitchen seconds after his wife called him.

The man went to his daughter, bending down momentarily and kissing her head covered in curly brown hair - exactly like his -, tied with a pink bow. The smell of children's shampoo and neutral perfume filled Matt's nostrils, making his heart warm from the scent he loved so much.

Matt stood up seconds later, walking over to his wife - who had returned her attention to the vegetables in front of her. His arms wrapped around her baby blue apron covered waist, resting his large hands on her very much pregnant belly while his head rested on Y/N's covered shoulder, kissing the area gently.

"Hi, mama. You look so beautiful today." Matt's voice was low and husky. Y/N felt her face heat up, as if this wasn't the tenth time he'd said that to her that day alone.

The effects that his pregnant wife had on Matt were enormous, he felt his legs getting weak and his heart racing every time he looked at her, besides the arousal, which had increased at least twice as much. Y/N joked that he was worse than her when it came to hormones, and she was the one carrying his second baby.

"I need you to go to the market for me, please. We're out of tomatoes and peppers, and I'm going to use them in the vegetable gratin I'm making." Y/N asked, smiling sideways with Matt's hot breath so close to her as kisses were planted on her shoulder.

"Okay, I'm going to the grocery store around the corner." He informed, earning a nod from Y/N.

Matt and Y/N lived in a house situated in a very homely neighborhood, which had everything nearby: grocery store, butcher's shop, school, pharmacy, etc., which made the couple's day-to-day life easier, reducing the need for use as much car as they needed when they lived in downtown LA.

"Daddy, where are you going?" Eloise asked, raising her big blue eyes, which were now looking intently at her father who was about to walk through the kitchen door with their house keys and his wallet in hand, which he took from the counter.

"Daddy's going to the market, baby." Matt turned around, giving his daughter his full attention as he answered her.

"I want to come along! Mommy, can I go with daddy, please?" The little girl asked, getting up carefully so as not to fall - as had happened several times before because of her haste -, standing on top of her carpet and looking at her mother, her little hands holding the skirt of her pink dress with white ruffles.

Y/N turned to her daughter, pressing her lips in a thin line when she saw the girl's expression, eyes wide and lips in a pout, holding herself back from laughing at the similarity between her and her husband.

"Okay, you can go. But promise me you will be a good girl and listen and obey your father, remember what mommy taught you." Y/N spoke with a soft expression on her face, but serious voice. "And when you come back, be prepared to put away your toys, missy."

Eloise nodded her head repeatedly, smiling big and taking careful steps off the carpet, afraid of steping on her toys. Seeing that she was out of reach of the barbies and pans, she quickly walked towards her father, raising her arms and waiting to be picked up.

Matt, who observed the interaction between his wife and daughter, smiled a smile identical to Eloise's, bending down and picking her up with ease, arranging his arms so that the skirt of his daughter's dress was straight and wouldn't ride up with her movements.

"Her shoes are next to the door. Go carefully, I love you." Y/N spoke from the kitchen, turning her attention to the sink in front of her with a soft smile on her face after hearing her husband and daughter shouting "I love you" back.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Come on honey, give your hand to daddy." Matt asked after passing the market entrance, placing Eloise on the floor and taking her small hand, which seemed even smaller when compared to his own. "Let's see what your mom needs."

Matt fished his phone out of his jeans pocket and opened the messaging app, clicking straight to chat with his wife and reading the small list she sent.

The man decided that a basket would be enough, opting not to take a cart. Two of his hands were busy with his daughter and the basket, something he had already gotten used to after repeating this same routine since Eloise learned to walk.

Eloise loved accompanying her father in everything he did, seeing him as her inspiration.

Matt still worked on YouTube with his brothers - of course with fewer videos, since each one had their own family and personal life; but Eloise always made a point of accompanying her father on filming, even though she never appeared in the videos, her baby voice and loud laughs always sounded in the background of each of them.

When Matt was playing video games, Eloise would sit on his lap and watch her father type quickly, often falling asleep even with the loud sounds coming from his headphones.

Even when her father went out with his friends and brothers to play lacrosse or hockey, Eloise begged to accompany him, always being spoiled by the adults and cheering loudly for her father.

Eloise was a true daddy's girl.

"Daddy, can I get some ice cream?" The little girl asked as they passed the ice cream fridge. A big smile graced her face, showing her gums with some missing teeth.

Matt paused for a few seconds, knowing that if Y/N found out that Eloise ate something sweet before lunch, she would fight him. But who said he would be able to resist his daughter's smile and her big blue eyes?

"Alright, dove, but you have to promise to keep it a secret between the two of us." The man asked, crouching down to Eloise's height, raising his pinkie.

And that brings us to the current moment, with Matt already in the checkout line, the basket in his left hand, and Eloise at his right side, holding the ice cream with both hands and a smile still on her face, waiting patiently to being able to eat her treat.

After paying for all the items, Matt thanked the cashier and balanced the bags in his arms, taking his daughter's hand and leaving the store.

On the way home, Eloise squeezed Matt's index finger hard - with her little strength -, getting his attention. The man stopped his steps, looking at Eloise, who was already looking at him with pleading eyes.

"Yes, honey?" He asked, waiting for his daughter to verbalize what she wanted, just like he and Y/N taught her.

"Daddy, I want my ice cream. Please." The little girl asked, remembering to add the magic word at the end.

Matt smiled softly, bending down again and opening one of the bags, keeping Eloise close to him. His right hand reached through the vegetables, pulling out the ice cream covered in pink plastic.

Eloise raised her hands, waiting for her father to give her the treat, but the man lowered her little hands with his left one.

"Let daddy open it first." He spoke, using his two hands to open the plastic, being careful not to tear it, arranging it so that the ice cream melted only inside the packaging, avoiding a bigger mess.

"Here, baby. Hold it with both hands and eat it carefully." Matt asked, handing her the wrapped ice cream and arranging her smaller hands so she could hold it properly.

The man straightened up, arranging all the bags in his right hand and placing his left hand on his daughter's shoulder, keeping her close to him, guiding her carefully so she didn't trip over something or hit somewhere, her eyes too entertained by the pink treat in front of her.

Unfortunately, the promise made between father and daughter did not prevail, Y/N having discovered the treat due to Eloise's hands and mouth being covered in a sticky pink substance and a larger than normal smile adorning her face.

356 notes · View notes

tkwrites · 8 months

Text

Back to You - Matthew Tkachuk x Jessie (ofc)

gif from @drysaladandketchup

Title: Back To You

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Matthew Tkachuck x Jessie (ofc)

Warnings: Swearing, lots of flirting. Slow burn. Smut at the end: fingering (f receiving), oral (f and m receiving).

Summary: Jessie and Matthew meet at a New Years Eve party and form an instant connection. When a fire rips them apart, can fate bring them back together?

Word Count: 12,700

Comments: This is my entry for @wyattjohnston‘s winter fic exchange written for @luvsherleafs

This is by far the longest piece I’ve written for Tumblr. I had a really clear vision of where I wanted it to go, and I eventually got it there. In the end, I’m so proud of how it turned out. I hope you enjoy, and would love to know what you think.

Many, many thanks to Mari @eyesthatroll and Bre @fallinallincurls for looking this over and assuring me it wasn’t garbage when I was in the trenches of writing.

Me and you We were a strange situation And kissing you Felt like Christmas Vacation An exciting place to escape Sometimes I wish that I could've stayed Cause you were my favorite Holiday -Christmas Vacation by LØLØ

Back to You

Matthew couldn't tear his eyes away from her and knew he wasn't the only one.

With dark hair cascading down her back in a long, shiny waterfall, big eyes and a plump little mouth that looked just made for kissing, she was the kind of classic girl next door people wrote into movies and books for the hero to find his way back to.

He especially liked what she was wearing. Bare legs weren’t really something he would advise at two hours to January in Ottawa, but at least it wasn’t a mini skirt like most women were tugging at constantly. Her shorts had a gold stripe on the sides that caught the flashing lights, as if they might have once been extravagant tuxedo pants tailored explicitly to show off her curvy legs. Her dark shirt had flecks of something metallic in the fabric - a wrapped and tied number like he’d never seen before.

Laughter was all over her face as she danced with the people around her. Slamming her foot (clad in gold oxfords) down with the beat before circling her hips in time with the music.

“Do you need a towel, man?”

“What?” Matthew asked, pulling his eyes away to look at his brother.

“I asked if you needed a towel,” Brady repeated, failing to keep the teasing smile off his face, “for the drool.”

Matthew flipped him off, and Brady laughed.

“Go talk to her,” he encouraged, pushing Matthew off the bar stool. “I’m sick of watching you sit here and stare at her. Go do something about it.”

He hesitated. It hadn't been that long since he’d broken up with Heidi.

“Go,” Brady repeated, shoving him across the walkway onto the dance floor. “Move on.”

Although he wasn't sure if he was ready to meet someone new, Matthew knew Brady was right. He’d be kicking himself come morning if he let a woman this good looking go without at least shooting his shot.

As he weaved through the crowd of dancers, his competitive drive growled in his chest, pleased. He’d be damned if he let someone else get to her first.

“Your admirer is coming this way,” Roger said, nodding to someone over Jessie’s shoulder.

She glanced over. A tallish guy with curly hair was walking right at her, a determined intensity all over his handsome face. Her gaze swung back to Roge, eyes wide.

“Just letting you know so you can prepare,” he said with a wink. “I told you those shorts would bring all the boys.”

Although she'd made them for the occasion, she didn't think they would pull the amount of attention they were getting. Her clothes often garnered a lot of lingering glances, though they usually came from other women.

Someone tapped on her shoulder and she turned.

The same guy was standing in front of her. He was much taller up close, had light eyes, and his hair looked like it might be blonde. It was hard to tell under the dim dancefloor lights.

He flashed her a charismatic smile. The gap between his front teeth only added to his charm.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, leaning in and yelling to be heard over the music.

Jessie wasn’t generally the type to accept drinks from random strangers, but this guy was hot, had nice style, and of all the dudes that had stared at her that evening, was the first one to do something about it.

“Sure,” she yelled back.

“Wanna go to the bar?”

After she nodded and they started walking through the mass of dancers, she glanced over her shoulder. Roge lifted his phone out of his pocket and shook it at her. His flashlight turned on.

She sent him a text about going to the bar and his flashlight, made sure the ringer was turned on, and slipped her phone back into her shorts pocket. Another good thing about making her own clothes: she could make the pockets as big as she needed.

Matthew couldn’t keep the smug smile off his face at the glares and disappointed looks that followed them to the bar.

“What'll you have?” the bartender asked as they came to a stop in the corner of the club. It was a bit quieter.

“A mojito, please” she said, before gathering her hair into a fist behind her and running her hand down the length of it.

Momentarily distracted by her actions and the flash of dark red, the bartender had to ask him again what he wanted.

“Beer would be great,” he said, flashing a bright smile, “whatever light you recommend.” Glancing back at the girl, he ran a hand through his hair to make sure it wasn’t doing something stupid, and said, “I'm Matthew, by the way. “

“Jessie. Are you from around here?”

“No, but my brother lives here. You?”

“My family is from here, but I'm usually in the states.” she said, watching the bartender muddle the mint in her drink. He didn’t seem to be doing anything funny with it.

“Yeah? Which one?”

“New York. Well, technically New Jersey, but I study in New York.”

“What do you study?” Matthew asked, lifting his beer bottle to his lips.

“Fashion.”

“I should have guessed,” he said.

“You should have?”

“Yeah. You have great style.”

The smile that spread over her face made him want to kiss her.

“What do you do, Matthew?” she asked, as she brought the black straw in her drink to her mouth. She caught it between her tongue and teeth before her lips wrapped around it.

His train of thought ran off the rails with visions of her mouth wrapping around other things.

Thankfully, autopilot kicked in and saved him from looking like a total creep, “I play hockey.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “I'm based in Florida.”

“Why the hell are you in Ottawa for New Years,” she asked, aghast, “when you could be somewhere warm?”

“We played here yesterday, so my family are all staying with my brother. Why are you here?”

“My dad grew up here, and wanted us to experience the joys of the frozen tundra at Christmastime,” she said with a long sweep of her hand, as if gesturing to the whole country.

He laughed again, and held her eye contact. It was so intense, she was the one to break it.

“Anyway,” she flipped her free hand, “what do you do for fun?”

“I honestly don’t have that much free time, but I always enjoy a good libation,” he said, holding up his bottle.

A wide smile spread over his face when she clinked her glass against it as she said, “amen.”

“And I like to hang out with people and I play a lot of other sports.”

“I will never understand why athletes always want to play other sports. It’s not like I sew upholstery when I’m not making clothes.”

He laughed, loud and genuine, and Jessie felt her heart flutter a little.

“It can be hard to turn off the competitive drive, so it helps to have somewhere to channel it. So did you make these clothes?” he asked, nodding at her outfit.

“Yeah. I found this gold fabric,” her fingers ran down the stripe on her left hip, “and fell in love with the idea of tuxedo shorts for New Years. I play around with a lot of menswear styles.”

“I like them,” he said. If he, by some miracle, got nominated for another award, maybe he would get a gold striped tux made.

“We have to wear suits to all of our games, so I’m always looking for something new and interesting,” he said.

The conversation lulled for a moment, and he continued, “what do you do for fun?”

“I also enjoy a good libation,” she clinked her glass against his again, “and I like to play tennis and I love movies.”

The rest of the night was spent in that little corner of the bar, talking and laughing - Matthew was funny. Quick with a movie quote and a sarcastic comment in her ear. She told him about coming to the club with her cousins, only one of whom she really knew, and he told her about coming with his family. A younger, married brother, and a sister still in college.

He refreshed their drinks and marveled at finding a woman who could keep up with his banter, genuinely laughed at his jokes and seemed interested in him as a person rather than as Matthew Tkachuk.

They talked about hockey, she knew some as her dad was Canadian, but not a lot, then about fashion.

She admitted one of the reasons she’d said yes to his drink had been his pants.

“Listen, more American men need to understand how many more girls they’d get if they just wore the right pants!”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“Your pants are fitted properly so I can see your ass and your thighs, and it makes you about a thousand times more attractive.”

A cocky smile spread over his face, “Oh, yeah?” he asked, leaning into her space.

She gulped, “yeah. If more men wore pants like yours, they wouldn’t be single.”

He stayed in her space, and her eyes darted to his lips. He licked them, just to see what she would do at the flash of his tongue.

Her eyes darted back to his and her cheeks pinked. He smiled.

The music changed to a slower, more house-style song he recognised. Jessie bumped her shoulders to the beat.

“Do you want to dance?” Matthew asked.

“Sure.”

They moved to the floor, and he watched, entranced as she swung her hips in rhythm.

When she turned around, pressing flush against him, his right hand immediately grasped her hip, as if that might provide some kind of grounding from the fluttering feeling in his chest.

It wasn’t like this had never happened - girls grinding up on him. It happened quite a lot, actually. Sometimes without any kind of consent. But this? Jessie? He couldn't get enough. She was pretty and they had the kind of instant chemistry you couldn't fake.

He found himself thinking about her beyond that night. A first since Heidi.

For her part, Jessie couldn't stand not touching him any longer. The chemistry between them was so palpable, she was surprised other club goers weren’t getting caught in it. Feeling him move against her made desire rumble to life in her belly, growling to be released.

They danced that way for - Matthew lost track of how many songs. She felt amazing pressed up against him. He was so in tune with how they moved together, the dancing felt like foreplay.

When the countdown to midnight began, she turned to face him. They were still so close - she could feel his body heat seeping through his clothing and into hers, see the way his button down was just starting to cling to his skin.

Matthew looked down at her, not hiding any of his interest. She looked back with so much hope and lust in her eyes, his stomach twisted.

“Three, two, one!” the crowd cheered.

He leaned down, then paused, “okay?”

Rising onto her toes, she closed the gap between them in answer.

All of their flirting was leading up to this moment, and Jessie wasn’t disappointed at all. It was as if everything around them faded into soft focus and the din of the crowd melted away. It was better than she could have imagined. His tongue brushed along hers, and heat flooded her stomach.

Matthew angled closer when her fingers slid into his hair. His hand splayed over her lower back. He wished he didn’t have this beer bottle so he could have both hands on her.

It went on and on for what felt like ages - a promise of things to come.

Someone cat called from nearby, and Jessie broke away, pursing her lips to hide how flustered she felt. At least he was as breathless as she was, his chest expanding to the confines of his shirt with every inhale.

They stared at each other for a moment longer, not quite engaged with the crowd, which was growing increasingly restless with the New Year in full swing.

She was debating between kissing him again, or asking if he wanted to leave all together when the lights went out, plunging them into total darkness.

The suddenness of it made her laugh. She thought it must be some kind of prank until all at once, a mono tone alarm started to scream. Lights began to strobe - harsh, bright flashes that instantly made spots appear in her vision.

The word “fire” was popping up in the crowd.

Just as he was starting to register what was happening, murky water cascaded from the ceiling.

The club was dissolving into chaos. Matthew snapped out of his reverie, and looked around for Taryn.

“I have to find my sister,” he told her.

As Jessie's face was illuminated by the flashing lights, she looked stricken and worried.

“I’ll call you, though!” he promised.

“But -” she watched him run off, knowing she hadn't given him her number. She didn't even know his last name.

“Jessie!” Roger yelled from somewhere to her left. Her eyes roved for him, and landed when he shouted again, waving his cell phone flashlight in his own face.

She ran to him, and they followed the swarming crowd outside.

To her complete surprise, smoke was pouring out of the building and the fire department was pulling up. She had been certain someone had pulled the alarm as a prank.

“Fuck it’s cold out here,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself, as if that would do any good. Her coat was inside, a pair of wool tights tucked in one of the pockets. She'd planned to put them on in the bathroom before they left.

“We should call it,” Lacey said. “Catch the next train. If we hurry we won't have to wait for another one.”

“But my coat’s in there,” Jessie complained. She hadn't made it, but she may as well have, she’d altered it so much. It was the best thing in her wardrobe.

“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Roger assured, “but Lacey’s right, we should get out of here. We’re soaked and it’s below freezing.”

It wasn't just the coat. She didn’t want to lose Matthew. She hoped she might run into him in the parking lot, but had yet to see him.

Roger and Lacey were right. Her wet clothing was already starting to freeze - stiffening and biting into her skin. Glancing around the crowd once more, she hoped she might see him, but there were too many people moving in too many different directions.

As Roger pulled her away, she hoped against hope the universe would bring them back together. It had been so long since she'd felt a spark like she had with him.

“Who was that girl you were kissing at midnight?” Taryn asked, her tone suggestive as she waggled her eyebrows at her oldest brother.

“Her name is Jessie,” he said, looking around for Brady. He finally spotted him with Emma and some of the Sens guys across the parking lot.

“Seemed pretty serious.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “We got on, that’s all.”

“I’ve seen you look like that before, and that was not just getting on with someone,” Taryn argued. “I hope you got her number.”

“I did,” he assured, then stopped dead in their pursuit through the crowd.

Taryn ran into his back. “Matthew!” she complained.

He was too busy digging his phone out of his pocket to apologize or move out of the way. Thankfully, it wasn’t ruined. As he opened his recent contacts, though, he found his fear confirmed.

Taryn pushed on his back, “Matthew, move! I wanna get inside.”

The older brother in him took control, wrapping his arm around Taryn's shoulder to lead them to Brady and finally into the car to go home.

As they settled into the SUV, heat blasting to melt the ice that had formed in their hair and on their cheeks, Emma punched Matthew in the arm. “That was some New Year's kiss, Matty.”

The disappointment of reality bit into him, and he snapped, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Whoa,” Brady said in warning.

Matthew leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. The possibility of her was still buzzing on his skin.

The future was being ripped out of his grasp. How could so much hope be dashed so quickly? So completely? He'd been making plans in his head. Immediately, where they were going to spend the night if she was willing. Beyond that, how he would see her whenever he was in New York, and beyond that? Hopefully something that ended up with them together.

“Oh no,” Taryn whispered, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. “You didn’t get her number did you?”

He shook his head.

“Oh, Matthew,” Taryn said, laying a hand on his back, “I’m sorry.”

The rest of the night, he lay in Brady’s guest bedroom, Taryn in the bed next to his, and tried to relax. It wasn’t working. He could still feel the phantom of her grinding up against him, and if he thought about it too much, he got hard.

Opening Instagram, he typed “Jessie” into the search. There were pages and pages of results. He scrolled through, hoping he might see her face. When the photos started to blur together, he clicked off the app.

Feeling hopeless, he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Jessie’s face was etched on the inside of his eyelids. He saw her smiling, heard her laugh ringing in his ears, felt her lips so perfectly fitted between his own. They should have been tangled up in bed together. The actuality of his loneliness was a slap in the face every time he turned over.

It was after four when he finally fell asleep.

He woke sometime around 10am when Taryn sat by his feet.

“Mom wants to know why you’re still in bed,” she said when he sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. “I told her you were hungover.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly.

“Listen, I heard you last night.”

His hands dropped and he gave her a suspicious look. “And what did you hear last night?”

She took a deep breath. “I heard you crying.”

A groan fell out of his mouth as his head tipped back. He didn’t even try to deny it. It hadn’t lasted long, the crying, but he hadn’t been able to stop it for a few minutes. He was sure Taryn heard his sniffling.

“Is this about that girl?”

“Listen, Taryn, I don’t want to -”

She cut in, “Matthew, I saw the way you looked after you kissed her. It’s the same way Brady looks at Emma.”

Shit. He was in deeper than he thought. And they hadn’t even slept together yet. He didn’t even know her last name. If he knew her last name, he’d be able to find her.

Letting his hands fall in his lap, he slouched over, and let the reality of what happened wash over him again. He would get over it eventually, but now? It felt too close to push aside.

Taryn’s hand came to rest on his knee, “I was thinking, what if she left something at the club? I mean, people must have left coats and things with the fire alarm. We could at least try. See if you can leave your number for her, or something.”

A spark of hope flickered to life in his chest. “Yeah, that’s a really good idea.”

Jessie wasn’t too surprised to see the tent in front of the club when they pulled up. The post on their Instagram page said they would be available for people to pick up their belongings all day. Two women were sitting there, bundled up to the hilt. As she got closer, she saw the propane heaters. At least that was something.

“How can we help you, darlin?”

“Yeah, I was here last night, and I hoped I could get my coat that I left with the coat check?”

One of the women stood, “what does it look like?”

“It’s a black wool trench, and it has sort of wavy lapels,” she demonstrated on herself. “There’s a pair of gray wool tights in the left pocket.”

She walked over to a rack behind their table.

The Club had seen better days, that was for sure. Some of the glass had been blown out from the heat, and there were charred bricks on the front from where the flames had licked out the windows.

“Is it condemned?”

“No, but it’ll take us a while to remodel, especially with the winter,” the other woman said, giving her a smile.

“Did they find out what caused it?”

“Not yet, but we’re pretty sure it was some faulty wiring.”

“Here we go. Is this it?” The other woman, the one with pink hair, turned the coat around.

Jessie smiled, relieved, “Yes.”

As she reached for the coat, she debated about the next part. What was the harm really? She knew she would be kicking herself all the way home if she didn’t.

“I know this is a little strange, but I met someone last night, but we were separated before we could exchange numbers, and I wondered if he’d come by?”

“I’m not sure. We’ve seen quite a few people today.”

“His name was Matthew, and he had curly hair, light eyes, and he was tall.”

They looked at each other, each shaking their head. “I don’t think we’ve seen anyone like that today.”

She wasn’t sure what she would have done if they had.

“Do you want to leave a note for him, or something?”

She chewed on her lip, petting the smoke soaked coat draped over her arm. If he happened to come by, it might work. But what if he didn’t? Or what if some other guy with curly hair came by, and they gave him her note?

She shouldn’t have even asked. It was fruitless. What did she expect? That he would just walk out of the building: here I am!

“No,” she said, defeated. “I was just hoping.”

“Well, love has a way of coming back when you least expect it.”

It felt like such a throw-away thing to say. “Yeah, I hope so,” Jessie said, turning back to her parents' car, parked in the lot.

Matthew walked up to the women sitting in front of the club. He knew he was used to the Florida warmth by now, and just despised the cold on principle, but sitting out here? In this? They were nuts.

“Hi, honey,” the older, motherly looking one greeted, “did you leave something here last night?”

Yeah, my future, he thought.

“No, I was hoping,” he reached up to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I mean, I met someone here last night and I was -”

“Are you Matthew?” the other woman interrupted.

His eyes shot to hers. “Yeah,” he said, breathless with anticipation.

“Oh no,” the women looked at each other. One had her hand over her mouth.

“Someone was just here looking for you.”

Hope started hammering in his chest.

“Pretty little thing, lovely red hair.”

“Yeah,” his heart was running so fast he felt like he might be sick.

“I’m so sorry honey, we asked her if she wanted to leave a note or something, but she decided not to.”

Now he really was going to throw up.

They had been so close. So close to meeting again. Why hadn’t she left a note? Why didn’t he just get her number last night?

Because he’d planned on asking her for it in the morning.

“Well, thanks anyway,” he said, hand falling limply at his side.

“Good luck. I hope she finds her way back to you.”

“Thanks,” he said, turning back to the car. Taryn was watching with rapt anticipation. He shook his head and her expression fell.

**Nine Months Later**

For the first time since moving, the bright Florida sunshine didn't make Jessie smile as she got out of bed. That September morning, she woke up to an anxious fluttering in her chest, trying to tell herself it was going to be a day like any other. She would go to the shop and sew that new sculptural blazer for the window. She'd help Raul with his clients and do the same things she’d been doing every other work day for the past three months.

It didn’t matter that some of the Florida professional hockey team were coming in for suits for the new season. She’d already checked, and there wasn’t a Matthew on the books.

Even if he did show up, he had probably moved on. It was just her romantic streak that kept him alive in her memory.

After a few miserable, sulky hours on New Year's Day, Roger had finally suggested she look him up.

“I don’t know his last name, Roge.”

“Didn’t you say he plays hockey in Florida?” he’d asked, pulling out his phone. He found a roster for her to look through - all men in blue, none of them Matthew. There wasn’t even a Matthew on the team.

“I think it’s hopeless,” she said.

“Hold on, there’s another one.”

“Another what?”

“Another team.”

“Here, I think this is him?” he turned the phone around and Matthew was staring at her, a smug little smile on his face.

Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were blue. And his hair was a dark blonde, with almost a gingery tone to it.

“Matthew Tkachuk?” she asked, trying to pronounce all the letters. It came out a bit of a garbled mess.

“Look him up on Insta.”

So she had. She found him easily. He was verified with over 150 thousand followers.

She messaged him, hoping.

Hey this is Jessie from last night before the fire stole our thunder.

He’d never even seen her message. She had checked every day for a while, then every couple of weeks until she'd all but forgotten about it, moving on with her life.

Pulling out her phone now, she scrolled down to the thread. The date was still staring at her, no read notifications in sight.

Matthew wasn't even all that great. That’s what she told herself every time she went on another failed date with some guy so boring she wanted to just drop off the chair and fall asleep on the bar floor. If she let herself believe he really was as charming and interested and built just for her as he’d seemed, she would never go on another set up or app date again. It had been the alcohol and the rush of the new year that had painted him in such rosy light. It was likely he was just another boring dude like all the rest.

The pink lace she put on under her clothes before going to work was for her, and she wasn’t hoping anyone would get to see it.

She absorbed herself with structuring the new women’s blazer all morning until the appointment at 2.

Matthew wasn’t entirely certain why he’d agreed to go with Benny that afternoon. He already had a suit guy in St. Louis. He didn’t need another one. But Sam was persuasive, a few other guys were going, and Matthew was always looking for something new. When you have to wear the same item of clothing over and over again, might as well make it something interesting.

Walking into the little shop, he could see why Sam liked it. There were racks and racks of interesting fabrics. Subtle and bold patterns and solid colors he never would have considered for a suit before.

As the other guys got to browsing, Matthew wandered over to the wall of photos. In every one, a short, dark haired man was posing with various people in beautiful suits. Sam was up there as were Barky and Bob. He didn’t know they came here too. Apparently, this was the place to be.

Something rustled in the back, and he turned. Nothing was there, but a glass cabinet that housed a display of cufflinks.

“Matthew?”

His head shot up.

A pretty young woman who wasn't in any of the photos was standing in the doorway behind the display case, holding up the heavy velvet curtain. He could see a row of sewing machines under her arm. She had on a blue skirt and a green blouse. A fabric flower was attached to her wrist, a porcupine of pins sticking out of it.

His breath locked in his chest. She was here. In Florida. She was in front of him. The girl from the New Years Eve party he couldn’t quite convince himself to let go of for half a season and the whole summer.

Her hair was shorter than it had been - ending at her collar bone - and a dark auburn red. He supposed it had probably always been that color. She had creamy pale skin with a dusting of freckles across her nose, and shit, had her eyes always been that green?

He’d never seen her out of that harsh club lighting, he realized. Of course she would be prettier in the daylight.

The murmuring behind him hushed into silence, and his mind went completely blank, as if he’d never had a thought in his life.

“Hey,” he heard himself say. The shock of seeing her was so intense, he couldn’t remember her name. He’d just been thinking about her last week after another failed third date.

Sam shot him a questioning look.

He was in shock. He was overwhelmed. He was… he was… he was acting like an idiot.

His heart thundered in his ears. She was looking at him like she was trying to figure out if he remembered who she was.

“Jessie,” she said hesitantly, pointing to her chest. “From New Years?”

Didn’t he remember? His face was branded into her memory. The dream of him - of them - roared to life in her chest unbidden. Her body reacted instantly, as if no time had passed.

Right. Jessie, Jessie, Jessie, he thought.

Cool. He needed to play this cool. “Oh, hey,” he said. “How’ve you been?”

As soon as it was out of his mouth, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Hope fell right off her face. He saw the moment it happened, and it sliced through him like a knife to the gut.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

She wasn’t some old acquaintance he hadn’t seen in a while. She was the girl he kept coming back to. The one he thought about after failed dates or that relationship that started at the beginning of the summer only to fizzle out six weeks later. She was his, it might have been, girl.

The man walked in then, forcing her into the shop. “Ah, I see you have met Jessica. She just graduated from FIT in New York,” he bragged, “and is helping us expand into womens suiting. She’s also a marvelous tailor, so she’ll be helping with the suits as well. Jessica, these are the clients I was telling you about. From the ice hockey team. Good clients. They like interesting things.”

She painted a smile on her face that almost looked convincing. “I can’t wait to help.”

“You,” Raul said, “I don't know you.”

“Matthew,” he said, holding a hand out to the older Italian man. “Sam said you make the best suits on the eastern seaboard.”

Raul pulled out the leather bound book that served as his ledger, and flipped to the section Jessie had been looking at that morning, simply marked, Hockey.

“Last name?” he asked.

He spelled it out, then pronounced it, “Tkachuk. The T is silent.”

Raul nodded, noting the silent letter next to his name.

“Jessica and I will take your measurements,” he said, gesturing him over to the plinth near the mirrors surrounded by dark wood.

Jessie picked up a notebook and followed Raul. Matthew had definitely recognised her, he’d been shocked by her appearance, even. Then he treated her like…like a one night stand or an acquaintance he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to reunite with. It hurt more than it should have to have the things she was telling herself come true.

She had hoped Raul would let her help the other clients, but luck seemed to be against her. At least he hadn’t handed her the tape. She didn’t know what she would have done if her hands brushed against Matthew’s body. She already felt on edge just being in the same room as him.

“Very important to get the thigh measurement with these hockey players,” Raul was saying as he threaded a measuring tape around Matthews upper thigh. “Big legs.”

“It’s from all the skating,” Matthew said, almost out of habit.

Jessie was doing a very good job of not looking at him. She had a little notebook in her hands and she kept her eyes trained on it as she wrote down every body part and corresponding number Raul called out. Upper thigh, lower thigh, calf, hip to knee, knee to ankle. Matthew had been measured like this before, so he just stood still and let the man do his work.

“So, Jessie, right?” Josh asked, leaning onto one of the mirrors, nearby where she was standing, not quite in Matthew’s peripheral vision.

She hummed in agreement. Raul was still calling out numbers to her, and she couldn’t divide her focus that well.

“What brought you all the way down to Florida from New York?”

Matthew clenched his jaw to keep from telling Josh off. As much as he wanted it, he didn’t have any claim over Jessie.

“Um,” she said, still jotting numbers. She spared a glance at him. He had long, unruly, dark hair, dark eyes, and a goofy smile. She smiled back, “can you give me just a minute to finish up here?” she asked, pointing at Matthew’s stomach with the cap of her pen.

Josh blushed, “yeah, of course.”

She went back to her notebook, face impassive once more.

Josh stayed where he was.

“So Chucky, what do you think about the schedule this year?”

Matthew shrugged, then snapped himself back into place at Rauls reprimand. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Jessie gagged internally. hoping that wasn’t really his nickname. Chucky was either a possessed doll, or a possessed rat mascot, neither of which she liked to think about for very long.

They continued to talk about something with their team. When she and Raul finished, she handed the notebook off to him, which he would transcribe into the ledger. He still didn’t trust her to do it the way he liked.

Matthew didn’t move off the plinth, but she turned to the other man, “sorry, what was your question?”

She sounded so polite, so formal. Sure, they’d only met that one night, but she hadn’t been guarded like this at that club in Ottawa. He supposed that was probably his fault. God, why was he such an idiot?

“I wondered what brought you to Florida. It’s a long way from New York.”

“Oh, the heat,” she said. “I was so tired of the north-east cold.”

“And you know Raul…”

“He and one of my mentors are great friends, and he got us in touch. I have some family down here, and wanted to live somewhere warm for a change. Raul wanted to expand into some womenswear, and tailoring happens to be one of my specialties.” She said it without much emotion. Just stating the facts. “We met, I made him and myself a suit to audition, and here we are.”

Matthew opened his mouth to say something about how he was glad she was here, but she walked away before he could force the words out.

Josh gave him a look that said something like, women, right?

Matthew walked away before he said something stupid.

“While I update the rest of your measurements, Jessica can help you with fabrics. She’s excellent with color. Jessica, why don’t you get the samples and help them pick out what they need.”

She nodded, went into the back and came out with five big binders. She set them on the table, and flipped some of them open.

She helped Reino pick out a dark teal, a blue and a few subtle plaids before moving on to someone else.

Matthew was the last at the table.

“What are you looking for?” she asked, trying to keep her voice and demeanor level. No need to let him know how her heart still pounded just looking at him when it was so obvious he didn’t care about her.

“I'm always looking for something interesting,” he said. “What would you suggest?”

Her eyes darted up to his face. His eyes were so blue - much more intense in person. He had the kind of eyes poets say hold summer skies and glacial lakes. It was the first time she really saw them, and they took her breath away.

“Well,” she forced herself back to work, “you could pull off almost anything with your coloring. How adventurous are you?”

“I’m willing to try anything once,” he said, trying to sound flirtatious. It just came off desperate.

She chewed on the inside of her lip. “How many suits are you looking for?”

“Eight,” he said.

He didn’t need eight suits. But if it kept him at this table for longer, he would buy as many as she would sell him.

“All for here?”

“For here?”

“To be worn here, in Florida? The others have mentioned needing some for travel.”

“Oh, I’ll need three or four for travel, three at least for the cold.”

They talked through colors. She opened a binder she hadn’t given anyone else. None of the other guys were as handsome, or seemed as adventurous with their style as Matthew.

“If you’re brave enough, I think this lilac would look really good on you,” she said, pulling the pastel fabric sample off the board and holding it up. He was more bronze than he had been when they’d met, but it would still look good when his summer tan faded.

“Okay,” he said. He trusted her style. He’d never worn lilac, but if she thought it would look good, he’d give it a shot.

Jessie got the feeling he was just agreeing with her to get this whole thing over with. Still, she couldn’t help pulling the best fabrics for him, even an expensive light blue linen blend that would make him look like Brad Pitt in Santorini. He didn't balk when she mentioned the price. He didn't even seem to notice.

“Chucky, how did you know Jessie?” Bennet said as they walked down the block to the public parking they’d all met at.

“A party,” he said, trying to sound non-committal.

People got into their cars, but before Matthew could leave, Benny came up to his driver's window. “You wanna tell us what’s going on?”

“You’re never this quiet,” Reino said from his place on Benny’s left.

Matthew sighed and got out of the car. This was going to take a while. Sam had always been a bit of a brother to him and he knew he wouldn’t let him go without an explanation.

“Jessie and I met last New Years Eve,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the hood of his car.

“Okay, and what did you do? Hookup and never call her again?”

“No!” He sounded too defensive, even to his own ears.

Reino raised an eyebrow, “so what happened?”

His hands raked into his hair so he didn't have to look at them as he told the story. “We met at this club in Ottawa, and we had this amazing connection. I've never felt anything like it before. Like, boom: Instant chemistry.” It felt even worse to say it out loud.

Both guys just waited.

“But the club caught fire.”

“Wait, what?” Benny asked. “Really?”

“I know, man,” Matthew said, throwing his hands up, “and I thought I had her number, so I left her to find Taryn, but I didn’t, and I couldn't find her after. I didn’t think I was ever going to see her again, and then, all of a sudden she was here,” he gestured in the direction of the shop, “and I just…”

“Fucked it?” Benny asked.

“Yeah.”

“So go back and talk to her,” Reino said, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

He scoffed. “What would I say? ‘Hey, sorry I completely forgot your name and treated you like our connection didn't matter, but I actually haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for the past nine months?’”

“Better than not saying anything,” Benny said.

Matthew shook his head, “I can’t go back in there.”

“Why not?”

“You didn’t see her face. There’s no way she wants to talk to me.”

A few weeks later, Jessie was piecing Matthew’s jacket from the blue linen in the back of the shop. The fabric was so light and delicate, she couldn’t even have music going while working with it. One wrong move and there would be pulled threads all over the place. She knew Raul would disapprove, but she gave herself twice the seam allowance to make sure she could finish the inside raw edges. Otherwise the fabric would start to pull apart - eventually, quite literally, fraying at the seams.

“Uh, hello?” someone asked.

She jumped and dropped the scissors. She let them clatter to the floor with a curse. She’d been so focused on the task at hand, she hadn’t heard the bell ring.

“One second,” she called, before securing her pattern with an extra pin, picking up the scissors and coming out to the sales floor.

“Hi, sorry about that. I got kind of in the zone. What can I do for you?”

It was one of the hockey guys. The one with strawberry hair. She couldn’t help but glance around him to see if he’d brought anyone with him.

She shouldn’t even be looking for Matthew, especially considering he'd ignored all of her phone calls about his suiting. All the same, seeing him again had awoken her longing in a way she couldn’t quite tamp down.

“Raul said I had some suits he wanted me to try on,” he said.

She asked his name, then went to the back to retrieve the garment bag. She remembered this one. She’d convinced him an oxblood red wouldn’t look too harsh with his coloring, and she was hoping he would like the results.

Giving him a pair of pants, she left him in the changing room while she cut extra threads on the inside of the jacket.

Immediately, she could see the pants were a smidge too loose. They talked about his preferred fit, and he avoided looking at her as she pinned the inner thigh. All men reacted this way, but to Jessie, this was all about the garment. As far as she was concerned, he was a mannequin under these clothes.

Finally, the questions that had been ruminating in her mind got the best of her. “So, did Matthew get traded or something?”

“Chucky?” he asked, surprised.

“I guess so.”

“No,” he was laughing as he said it, “he has seven more years on his contract.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“I’ve just called him a few times about measurements, or fittings, and he’s never called back or come in.”

“Really? He told me he was here yesterday.”

Of course he was coming in on her day off. Why had she even told him that in the message?

She stood up, and moved onto the jacket after asking him if he ever planned to wear it with a sweater. He wasn’t sure. Or if she should shorten the sleeves. He liked them a little longer.

“Chucky told us what happened in Ottawa,” he said.

Jessie felt her shoulders tense, but kept working. “Yeah?” she asked, not daring to look up. All this still felt too close to the surface, and she didn’t want this man she barely knew to know how much it had hurt when Matthew brushed her aside.

“Yeah, he said he looked for you after the fire.”

“I tried to stay, but my cousins and I were soaking wet and it was below freezing so we had to catch the train.”

“He said he went back the next day and you’d been there, but didn’t leave a note.”

That made Jessie gasp. Audibly. She blushed and tried to brush it off, “I was worried it might go to the wrong person,” she said, “plus I messaged him on Instagram and he never responded.”

He hummed, debating the best way to approach this. He wanted to do some digging without letting on that’s what he was doing. “He said you guys had quite the connection.”

Was she really going to go into this with one of his teammates? She hadn’t talked to anyone about it but Roger. Words bubbled up into her mouth so fast, she guessed she was.

“Yeah, we did.” God, why did she have to sound so moony?

“Do you think there’s still something there?”

“He made it pretty obvious there’s not.”

“I don’t think he meant to do that. He was pretty shocked to see you.”

“I was shocked to see him too, but I didn’t just brush him aside.”

“Listen, Jessie - it’s Jessie, right?”

She nodded.

“Matthew can be pretty thick. He gets so in his head, sometimes he doesn’t really think things through, but he told us what happened, and how much he liked you, and he said he fucked it and you wouldn’t want to see him again.”

She hummed, and got him a new suit to try on. She’d been right. The oxblood did look killer on him, like he could be in a GQ shoot. He looked impressed.

“Would you want to see him again?” Sam asked.

“If he came in here himself?”

He nodded.

“I’d at least give him a chance.”

Even though she would usually just move on, she’d never felt anything like the instant connection she and Matthew shared on New Years. It was the kind of thing she thought only existed in books and rom coms. Experiencing it in real life made it into something she couldn’t just walk away from.

They talked about where they were from and made comfortable small talk for the duration of the fitting. She told him how relieved she was when Raul trusted her enough to run the shop by herself one day a week.

“Listen, I’ll tell Chucky to come by next Wednesday. We’re leaving for the opening roadie that day, but I’ll try to get his head out of his ass before then.”

She giggled.

He could see why Matthew liked her, and could see how their personalities would match up well. She was kind and easy to talk to - quiet at first, but got louder as she got comfortable, and Chucky was just loud all the time. He could tell they both valued relationships more than things.

The next week, after their final practice before the season opening road trip, Benny cornered Matthew in his stall. “You need to go see Jessie.”

“She doesn't want to talk to me, man.”

“The way she asked me about you last week would say otherwise.”

He scoffed.

“I told her you still like her -”

“You what?!”

“She brought you up first, and you weren't doing shit, so don’t tell me I'm ruining your plans or some bull. She said she's called you a bunch of times, but you only show up when she's not there.”

“It's just easier,” Matthew mumbled. It wasn't his fault she told him when she'd be gone.

Benny rolled his eyes. “Dude, wake up. She still likes you.”

Matthew looked at him, skeptical, “she told you that?”

“Yes, but she didn’t need to. The first thing she asked me was if you’d been traded. We weren’t even talking about you.”

A ridiculous amount of hope lit up his face.

“I knew it! You still like her too!”

What’s not to like? Matthew thought.

“She runs the shop on Wednesdays. Just go talk to her.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I went there last Wednesday, dumbass. She told me.”

Matthew hesitated, still unconvinced.

“Go. Now. I’ll drive you myself if I have to. I’m sick and tired of you moping around when there’s such an easy solution to your problem.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going,” Matthew said, holding his hands up in defeat.

“And check your instagram. She said she sent you a message.”

Usually when she walked onto the sales floor after the doorbell dinged, Jessie would have to search for someone among the racks of fabric samples and ready to be tailored suits. This time, a man was standing at the counter, watching her with the same determined intensity he’d shown the first time they met.

He was here. Finally. Four of his suits had been sitting in the storage room for more than a week, further proof that he was avoiding her.

“Hi Matthew,” she greeted hesitantly.

“Hey Jessie.”

They looked at each other in awkward silence for a moment.

“Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah, Raul told me some of the suits were ready?”

“They are.”

“I just came to pick those up.”

“Oh,” the tiny spark of hope fizzled out again. Sam must not have made it through to him.

She looked instantly downcast.

To hell with it. He couldn't make any more of an ass of himself. “And I wanted to see you,” he blurted.

“You wanted to see…me?” she repeated, pulling a pen from her ponytail to start fiddling with it. He didn’t know why, but it struck him as such an endearing gesture.

“Yeah,” he said, heart falling. Was Sam setting him up? He was a prankster, but not to this level, usually. Not when it was this important.

“Why would you want to see me?” she asked, feeling that guard go up. Every time she got her hopes up about Matthew, he tore them down.

Thoughts raced through his mind. He could lie so easily, but where would that get him? It was time to just own up and blurt it out. Her reaction be damned. “Because I really like you.”

She looked surprised. Way more surprised than he’d expected. “I thought you didn’t remember.”

“How could I forget?” he asked. “I thought you must hate me since I forgot your name and acted like such an ass that first day.”

Shaking her head, Jessie wondered how on earth they got into this situation. “I mean, I was disappointed, but then, you backed it up by never coming to the shop when I was working, I thought you must be trying to avoid me.”

“I was.”

One of her eyebrows shot up.

“Not like that,” he floundered. “Like, I couldn’t stand to see you and remember how well we got on, and how much I like you, and how pretty you are when I knew I'd blown my chance and you hated me.”

She let out a laugh. “That makes no sense. What did I ever do to make you think I hated you? I called you every time something was finished, or we needed a new measurement. I gave you the best fabric selections.”

Had that been because she liked him? “I don’t know, it did in my brain. I guess I was so embarrassed I forgot your name when I like you so much, I was telling myself you must be angry with me.”

Jessie rolled her eyes. “You know, Matthew, for someone so smart, you can be pretty dumb.”

“You think I’m smart?” He’d been called many things in his life, but smart was rarely one of them.

“Yes. I think you’re very smart, except when it comes to romance, I guess.”

He chuffed a laugh, grabbing the back of his neck. “I really fucked this one up, didn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” she said, trying to be cool and hoping against hope that this last shot would land on target. If it didn’t, she was kicking him out and scrubbing him from all her memories. “I think you might still have a chance.”

His eyes snapped to hers. “Yeah?”

She nodded.

Heart pounding, but trying to keep that flirty, cool skin on, he walked around the counter to remove the barrier between them.

Knowing he still liked her brought all those feelings from the club rushing back. She’d never felt like that with anyone else. If only he knew how many times she’d replayed that night. How many times she remembered how he felt and how no one had ever kissed her like that, or swept her off her feet so quickly.

“Play your cards right,” she said, feeling breathless with the nearness of him. “And I think you might get another chance at bat.”

As he leaned in closer, her pupils dilated, and her eyes darted to his mouth. He licked his lips just to see her force her eyes back to his like last time. Her blush was even more adorable in the daylight.

“If I swing, what are my odds of getting a home run?”

She laughed. It didn’t break the spell. It turned out that palpable chemistry was still between them, just waiting to be ignited. Their eye contact was hot and glued together.

“Maybe not today,” she said, “but I think it’s a safe bet that you’ll get on base.”

Time moved in slow motion as he leaned in further, looking at her mouth, then her neck, then her cleavage, barely visible through the two undone buttons of her starched, white shirt, before snapping back to hers as she stopped him with a hand pressed tightly to his chest.

“We can’t do this here. There are cameras on the floor,” she said.

His head dropped forward in defeat. “I have to leave for Vegas in two hours,” he said, feeling more than a bit desperate. “I really don’t want to wait until I’m back.”

“I don’t want to either, but I’m telling you, if Raul catches me making out with a client, I’m going to be out on my ass.”

“So what do we do?”

She thought for a moment before an idea struck her. “Follow me.”

She made a big show of walking into the back, digging his new lilac suit out of the garment bag and hanging it in the private dressing room. “You go in there. When I come back and ask you how it’s fitting, you need to tell me something needs to be adjusted and invite me in, okay?”

“Right. Yeah, okay.”

She put out the sign that said she would return soon and locked the front door. It wasn’t that unusual to lock up when they were helping a high profile client, anyway. Plus, Wednesdays were always the slowest day of the week, hence why she was allowed to man the shop alone. She just hoped Raul wouldn’t have any reason to review the tapes.

Her whole chest felt like it was full of helium as she walked back to him. Were they really about to do this?

“Everything going okay in there?” she asked.

“Something’s wrong with this suit jacket,” he said. “Can you come take a look?”

Upon entering, she found Matthew with his shirt already off.

Sweet Jesus, she was not prepared for that. For his sculpted body, and his chest hair, that tapered into a thin trail running down the center of his abs before it dipped enticingly into the waistband of his pants.

“That’s not fair,” she said.

“What’s not fair?” he reached for her and drew her to him, hands splaying over her waist.

“You’re already half naked,” she said, eyes wandering down his chest again.

“You could be too,” he teased, playfully pulling at the shirt tucked into her waistband. He didn’t actually pull any of the fabric loose, which she appreciated. He was letting her set the pace.

“Damn, Jessie. You’re the only woman I know who can make a pant suit look sexy.”

She laughed, and pulled the whole shirt over her head, leaving her in a white camisole, a black lace bra peeking out from underneath it.

“Do you always wear black lingerie to work?” he asked, voice gone husky as he ran a finger under one of the straps.

“Only when I think you might come in.”

His eyes snapped to hers, thrilled but questioning.

“Sam told me he was going to try to get you to come by today.”

“So this really is for me?” he felt dizzy with the prospect.

“No. It’s for me. I put it on this morning, thinking that at the very least if you came in and you were an ass again, you wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing how hot I look in my bra,” she said, before stripping off the camisole so he could see exactly how hot she looked in her bra.

Seeing her, in black suit pants, a gold belt buckle flashing at her waist, and her sheer, floral lace bra that plunged between her breasts, the breath was sucked out of his lungs.

His ongoing ache for her intensified, pressing insistently against the confines of his jeans.

He stepped toward her when she once again stopped his progress with a hand to the chest. “I really like you, Matthew,” she said, swooning a little at the happiness that lit up his face, “but I was serious. I don't want to have sex.”

“Can you define that a little more?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like you don't want oral sex, or…”

She wouldn't have guessed oral sex would even be on the table. She practically had to beg past boyfriends for it.

“I mean I don't want to have penetrative sex. The first time with someone new is hard enough. I don't want to make it more complicated by taking a bed out of the equation.”

“I get that. Plus, it'll give me something to look forward to when I get back,” he said with a grin and a cheeky wink.

God, maybe they really were made for each other.

As his left hand slipped to the back of her neck, the other spread over her rib cage, thumb brushing against the soft lace that cupped her breast.

She sucked in a breath, letting her hand ghost up his torso over the ridges and valleys, until her fingers hooked over his shoulder. The other slid around to his back.

It felt like it had been a million years since they’d last done this. Not the touching, not the skin to skin, which felt like…it felt like heaven, but the longing.

Jessie was looking at him with that same hope and lust in her eyes. It made his stomach twist with that same wanting to fulfill them both.

It was so long coming, he wanted to savor every movement, every breath, every glance. Her eyes were so green. Somehow even more green up close.

Finally, when their lips met, she sighed, melting against him.

This was all together more intense and less hurried than their first kiss had been. It was a slow burn, a thorough seduction, a fulfillment of everything Matthew had been dreaming of that night they lost each other.

When he pulled away, their heavy breaths crashed together.

Fingertips sliding up her back, he tried to memorize the feel of her. Her skin was so soft.

Jessie was growing impatient. Any other moment, she would love this slow seduction. Most of the time she felt like men moved too fast. Today though, she had so much sexual frustration built up for him that the weight of desire was already heavy between her legs.

Taking matters into her own hands, she leaned in and trailed her mouth along his jaw before nipping the soft spot behind it, just under his ear. He shuddered when she soothed it with her tongue.

“I’ve been dreaming of this for so long,” she confessed, barely above a whisper.

That snapped him into action. Taking her waist, he pulled her flush to him, and crushed his mouth to hers.

There was the passion she’d been looking for.

As they surged together, she felt so restless and turned on, she tried to hook a knee over his hip in an attempt to slot him between her legs.

Groaning against her, his hand slid over her rear and down her leg to keep it elevated and wrapped around him.

Kissing her was so much better than he remembered. How was that possible? She was so good in his dreams. In reality, she was living - flesh and bone and wanting - and he couldn’t get enough.

Moving to her neck, he sucked her pulse point. He felt her tremble against him, but her hand still came up to pull him back to her mouth. “Nothing visible, okay? I have to go back to work.”

He nodded and caught her lips. It might be too late for that one, but he wouldn’t do it again.

Her desire was a wildfire, consuming every part of her. It wanted to consume him, too.

When she tucked two of her fingers behind the button of his jeans, a moan fell into her mouth.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

She tore the zipper down, and palmed him through his boxers. His hips jumped into her hand as a moan ripped from his throat.

His fingers fumbled to her belt buckle and paused.

“Please,” she whimpered.

He was clumsy with desperation and the distraction of her kissing and biting his neck, but he finally got it open and her pants undone.

The weight of the buckle sunk the waistband to the floor with a heavy clink, and Jessie stepped out of it, kicking off her shoes at the same time. Sinking her hand into his pants, she shoved them down his muscular legs.

He nearly fell over in his attempt to get out of his shoes so he could free himself from the shackle of the fabric around his ankles.

Jessie giggled, and moved with him as he stepped away. He finally got his first look at her in her underwear. Made of some fabric he couldn’t name, they were also black and cut high on her hip. He could see it was a thong in the mirrored wall behind her.

His jaw grew heavy with longing, but managed to make his mouth work enough to tell her, “you’re so beautiful, Jessie.”

“Thank you. I think you’re really handsome.” she said, running a hand down his chest. And he was - he could be a living sculpture in the Greek wing of the Louvre with his curly hair and sculpted body.

Sliding his hands over her hips, he pulled her to him once more. He hesitated for a moment, and Jessie took charge, too impatient to wait. “Matthew?”

“Hmm?”

“I really appreciate you getting my consent, I really, really do, but you can just move forward. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.”

“Okay.”

She captured his mouth again and the fire roared to life between them, stoked hotter by so much skin touching skin.

Sneaking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he pushed them down, trusting that she would stop him if she wanted to.

She didn’t want him to.

His fingers traced back up her leg and when he stroked her, she broke from the kiss to let her head lull forward onto his shoulder. Her panting breaths were the stuff of his dreams. She was already so wet, and he wanted nothing more than to bring her pleasure.

“Oh,” she moaned when he explored more, running a couple of rough fingers from her entrance to her throbbing bundle of nerves. She rocked into his hand, and he took the hint, caressing her over and over again until she was trembling and moaning.

“Matthew,” her voice was wrecked: desperate and thick with longing.

“What do you need?”

“Your fingers,” she begged, “inside me.”

He obeyed, following the rhythm she set. Pressing the pad of his thumb to her clit, a wicked, self satisfied smile took over his face as her head tipped back, and her breath hitched.

“Oh,” she moaned, “just like that.” Her hands slid to his arms, clinging to his biceps.

He wanted to eat her pleasure for breakfast - sustain himself with it on long, lonely nights. He knew he would dream of her voice and all her little sounds through the whole ten days away, anxious to come back to the very actual reality of her. He kept having to remind himself this wasn’t a dream.

He rutted against her thigh in an attempt to pacify some of his own lust.

Body shaking, she cried out.

Matthew continued to stroke and leaned in, kissing her right through her orgasm.

Feeling her core pulse around him again and again, the release was so long coming, it seemed to go on forever.

As her breathing finally slowed, he eased his fingers from her.

“Oh my god,” she said, still clutching him to stay upright. “I’m so pissed we had to wait nine months for this.”

Laughter barked out of his mouth.

When she could make her hands work, Jessie pulled his hard, hot length from his boxers, and stroked a few times.

His mouth fell open, and he panted, “it’s bullshit, right?”

“Such bullshit,” she agreed, devouring the pleasure that washed over his face.

“Wait,” he said, grasping her wrist. “I want this to last.”

“You already got me off,” she said. “What do you need to wait for?”

“I'm not going until you've come at least twice. What's the point of women being able to have multiple orgasms if I can't give them to you?”

That was some flawed logic, but she allowed him to pull her hand away. She wasn’t going to say no.

“Can I taste you?”

“If you want,” she said hesitantly, as if he might be pulling some kind of prank. She'd never had a man offer to go down on her first.

“I do want,” he said, guiding her to lean against the mirrored wall and sinking to his knees. “I've been wondering how you taste since we met.”

Maybe that oral fixation all the girls talked about online was actually true.

“Can you put your leg up here?” he asked, sliding a gentle hand to the back of her knee, and lifting so the joint bent around his palm. He guided her foot to the stool.

When he looked up at her, his blue eyes shining with excitement, she retraced their steps to get there. Not even ten minutes before would she have expected to end up with Matthew Tkachuk eating her out in the back dressing room.

“That feels okay?” he confirmed, palm stroking back up her thigh.

God, he was even making sure she was comfortable. Her whole body fluttered in anticipation. “Yeah,” she breathed.

Every other time a man had given her oral, they were fast and sloppy, obviously trying to get it over with as soon as possible. With Matthew, he seemed to be dragging it out for his own pleasure, tasting and teasing like he just couldn’t get enough. He was driving her crazy - winding her tighter and tighter.

“Matthew,” she moaned. It was better than any of his dreams. Better than any fantasy. “More. Please. More.”

She felt his lips briefly curve into a smile against her before he really got to work. Licking with the whole flat of his tongue, then flicking with the tip, he was suddenly everywhere.

Her hand scrambled for purchase on the wall behind her. Met only with the slick mirror, her fingers fumbled into his hair, searching for anything to hold on to.

He groaned into her, almost as if in pain.

“O-okay?” she asked, voice shaking as she attempted to loosen her grip.

When she felt his response but couldn't hear it, it took all her willpower to push him away. She was not going to hurt him, especially when he had been so insistent on her consent. She could feel his hard breathing rushing over her and it set her skin to trembling.

“Okay?” she asked again.

“Good,” he assured, eyes flicking up to meet hers. “I'll let you know if you pull too hard,” he said with a wink before diving back in.

Her head thunked back against the mirror. He really was made for her, that was the only explanation.

God, she was perfect. She tasted like paradise, like water in the desert, like his favorite meal after a long period of fasting. She satiated his every craving.

His competitive drive growled into a higher gear, demanding to please her until she whimpered and begged. He licked and sucked and spelled his own name with his tongue, gauging where she liked to be touched most.

“Matthew,” she moaned. “Oh my god, Matthew.”

Pleasure began to tingle low in her pelvis. It loosened her hips and turned her legs to putty. She'd never had a man take this much interest, let alone put so much effort into her pleasure. She moaned something unintelligible, even to her own ears.

He slipped a finger into her, and she cried out. Her hand tightened in his hair when he added another.

A whimper on every exhale, she panted, trying to keep some semblance of control. It shattered when he gently kneaded her g spot.

Pleasure thundered low in her belly, and she was forced over the cliff, glad to know Matthew would be there to catch her fall. Her vision turned hazy as she crashed. Time and space exploded into nothing more than shadowy constructs. She heard herself shout as if listening from another room.

When she came back to herself, Matthew was still languidly tasting her folds, one of his forearms braced over her hips to keep her upright.

Pushing him away from her core, she tried to catch her breath.

As he sat back, he wiped his face with his free hand. The satisfaction of pleasing her rumbled contentedly in his chest.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I fucking love you.”

He laughed, a look of delighted surprise on his face.

The reality of what she'd just said hit her and Jessie covered her face with her hands, “oh my god. I can't believe I just said that out loud.”

“That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me during sex.”

Relief sunk into her bones. Soul mates. They had to be soul mates.

A few moments later, she finally found her feet and pushed away from the mirror.

“Alright,” she said, reaching for him and wrapping her fingers around his erection. He stumbled toward her, anxious to feel more.

She smoothed the precome leaking from the tip onto the shaft with her thumb. “I think it's my turn to taste now.”

Matthew wasn't entirely sure what he'd expected her to do, but lowering to her knees in front of him right away hadn't been at the top of the list. He expected her to jerk him off for a minute, maybe kiss and tease him a little. Not that he was complaining. If she was willing, he'd gladly accept.

“Do you like more suction or more mouth?” she asked before licking the underside of his shaft.

Oh God.

“I dont - I don't care.” He wasn't sure he was even going to last long enough for it to make a difference. He felt so close to the surface already.

“You don't care?” she repeated, sitting back on her haunches to look up at him.

With her mouth off of him, he could explain his reasoning a little better.

“Frankly, I've been dreaming about this for so long, I could almost bust just from seeing you on your knees.”

She was flattered and also a little relieved she wasn't the only one.

“Okay,” she said as she reached up to pump him a few times. “Something we'll figure out later.”

The fact that she was thinking about the future, too, made him weak.

Her lips wrapped around his tip, tongue caressing, and he was right there.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Jessie,” he moaned, “god that feels good.”

Was it the best blow job ever? Objectively no, but it was Jessie, so it felt more important than any that came before it. He felt like he was fifteen again, getting his first head, amazed by everything and having no restraint.

“I'm - I'm gonna come,” he moaned, trying to pull back so as not to come in her mouth.

Jessie would rather have it in her mouth than all over her, so she gripped the backs of his thighs to keep him in place.

“Oh, fuck.” How could she possibly be this perfect?

She sucked and caressed and he exploded with a long low groan.

She kept licking, albeit more gently, until he pulled back, sensitivity making it too much to bear.

“Holy shit,” he said. The room felt muggy and he felt content in a way he'd been longing for since they'd lost each other.

“Yeah,” she agreed.

He helped her to her feet, and pulled her against him, wanting to feel her close.

A while later, her phone, which had fallen out of one of her pants pockets, buzzed and the time flashed.

“Shit! I have to go,” he said, scrambling for his clothes. “I still have stuff to pack!”

“When’s your flight?”

“In an hour, but I have to drive home and then to the airport.”

They rushed to get their clothes back on. He hated seeing her bra disappear under the camisole again.

As soon as he was dressed, he grabbed her jaw and kissed her. Her hands floated from tucking her shirt to cup his face.

He'd just had her, but the wanting roared back to life as soon as she touched him, as if his body was trying to remind him what was possible between them. Like he could ever forget.

“This was so amazing. I promise I'll take you on a real date when I'm back, and I'll call you while I’m gone,” he said. “I'm sorry I have to dash out of here.”

He kissed her again, hard and purposefully, before rushing out of the dressing room.

“Wait!” she chased him onto the sales floor still tucking her shirt, “my number. You need my number.”

“Oh my god,” he slapped a palm to his forehead. “I can't believe I almost left without it again!”

She giggled, “you're not getting away from me this time.”

They exchanged numbers and Matthew raced home.

He rushed to pack the last of his things, grateful for the example his dad set, in always having a base bag packed the day before a road trip just in case something came up.

He was the last one on the plane, a first for him.

“Chucky just got fucked!” someone yelled.

Matthew felt his cheeks get hot. His hair was probably wild from Jessie's hands, and he could feel the love bite on his neck, a sure sign it would soon be a full blown mark.

Reino met his eyes and raised a brow. Jessie? he mouthed.

Matthew nodded.

He wiped the back of his hand over his brow in mock relief.

“Oh thank God,” Bennett exclaimed from across the aisle. “I thought I was going to have to lock you two in a room until you got together.”

Matthew laughed.

When he got settled, he sent Jessie a text. Just on the plane, but I'm missing you already. I'm back on the 14th, so pencil me in for that date.

I have you in for the weekend. We have a lot of time to make up for.

Fanciction Masterlist

#the winter fic exchange 2k24 #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk smut #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #matthew tkachuk one shot #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #hockey romance #hockey fic #hockey smut

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azsazz · 5 months

Text

Dozen Roses & a Six Pack

Small Town!Cassian x Archeron!Sister Reader

Summary: More heartbreak for small town Cassian because I just can't stop. Based off of the song Dozen Roses & a Six Pack by Cole Swindell.

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1,300

_________________________________________

Cassian sighs when he hits the red light on the corner of Main Street.

He stares up at the crimson sign staring at him, taunting him, laughing at him.

He wants to pound his fists against the fucking steering wheel. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near this fucking town right now, not on a Friday night, just getting off of work and waiting for all of the drunks of this shithole town to meander their way down here.

Especially not after last night.

His eyes are gritty with exhaustion, fingers blackened by the oil and dirt of his job, permanently embedded underneath his fingernails. His hair was pulled tightly from his face this morning, but now, after eight hours of hard labor, it’s greasy and messy, falling out from the hair tie barely holding it together. He’s so fucking tired. He hadn’t slept at all last night, stomach twisted with worry and his mind running rampant with thoughts of you.

A pink neon light flickering on in a window to his right catches his attention, ripping his eyes from the stoplight. Flower Shop is written in curly letters, his mine perking up at the idea, calling his name.

When the light turns green he rolls his rusted Bronco through the intersection and pulls it into the ten minute parking spot out front. He cranks the driver’s window up and shuts the engine off, tipping his head back against the seat as the sting returns to his eyes.

This might be his worst idea yet.

It takes a lot more effort than he’d like to lug his body from the car. The streets are quiet for the moment, but they won’t be soon.

He rounds the front of the car, muttering to himself as he makes his way to the door of the shop. “Please don’t be here, please don’t be here—”

The bell jingles as he pulls the door open, stepping inside. The scent of the variety of colorful flowers surrounding him hits him like a truck, thick and heavy in the back of his throat. Pinks, purples, reds, greens…every color he can imagine in different shapes, lengths, and sizes are scattered everywhere. It’s nearly overwhelming. Would be if he didn't know what you liked.

His breath catches in his throat when the young woman working in the shop is called out of the back room by the chime of the bell on the door. His steps falter as he approaches the counter, heart squeezing in his chest in a repeat of the worst pain he’s ever felt in his entire life.

“Hey, Lanie,” he greets, forcing a small smile onto his lips. He wants to turn around and run right out of this fucking shop because looking at Elain Archeron reminds him too much of you.

She offers a gentle smile—one that he doesn’t feel like he deserves—in return. “Hey, Cassian. How are you doing?”

He shrugs a little, swallowing against the tightness of his throat. If he answers it will either be a lie or a beg, so he keeps quiet about that.

Elain offers a knowing look in return. Her big doe eyes are swimming with pity, and Cassian forces his gaze away.

“Can I please have a dozen red, long stemmed roses?” he asks, already reaching for his wallet.

“Sure. I’ll pick out the best ones that we’ve got,” Elain answers, already darting off to the refrigerator where the flowers are kept.

He waits, staring at a spot on the counter, wondering if this is a mistake. He could walk right out that door while Elain is distracted. The bell will alert her of his cowardly departure but he’d already be in his car by then, peeling down the street like hell is at his wheels.

His heart aches in his chest, and he waits.

“How do these look?” She asks when she comes back, holding out the bouquet she’s wrapped and ready to go. There’s a ribbon tied around the stems, holding them all together. It’s your favorite color, too. Of course, Elain would make them look perfect for you, and it’s not the first time she’s helped arrange a bouquet of flowers for you.

“Just perfect,” he answers, though it doesn’t sound as cheerful as he wants. He gives Elain an apologetic look and hands over his card, relieving her of the flowers. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Elain chirps. Always so happy, she is. Why weren’t you ever this content to be in this town? He flinches a little at the thought, biting the inside of his cheek as he returns his credit card to his pocket and signs the receipt. “Hey, Cassian,” she calls when he’s turned away to leave. Cassian looks over his shoulder, at Elain whose eyes have gone hard. He should run, probably. But instead of saying something similar to the way Nesta had chewed him out, she says, “I really think you still have a chance.”

There’s a rock in his throat as he stares her down. The nicest of the four Archeron sisters is rooting for him. Nesta has clearly chosen a side, going to bat for you when she heard the news and ran into Cassian at the grocery store. Feyre’s on the fence about all of it, not wanting to choose a side at all. He’s sure that if Rhysand came back from New York and had faith in him, she would agree.

Cassian nods gratefully at her. He really shouldn’t get his hopes up because he remembers the finality in your tone all too easily from last night. The way you’d had tears running down your face. Your words were shaking but honest and there was no amount of pleading or promises from him that could get you to stay.

The roses burn a hole in the side of his head as he pulls out of the parking spot and back into the street, steadily filling with cars from people getting off work.

Wrapped perfectly, they’re perched in his passenger seat, the seat belt fit snugly around them. That feeling creeps up Cassian’s throat again, the nervous one that has him tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in hopes of releasing the sudden energy his mind’s creating, thinking about you.

He’s almost out of town and then maybe he can relax. He’ll hide up in his apartment, because no one ever comes around that part of town. It’s the perfect solitude.

He stops at the stop sign. On the corner is the local liquor store, sign pinned up in the window reading Coldest Beer in Town. Cassian swallows. He is thirsty, and the beer will only give him the confidence he needs when he inevitably chooses to make that phone call.

Coward, his mind screams, as he pulls into the parking lot. Screaming at him as he picks up a six pack, screaming at him when he pays for it and the bottles clank together when he sets it on his seat and makes his way home.

His mind is still a mess when he sits at his table, staring at the roses and beer, how the roses won’t be enough if you pick up the phone, if you forgive him, and the beer might not be enough, if you don’t.

Finally, Cassian picks up his phone, pressing the only number he has favorited, that little star in the corner reminding him of the relationship that shined so bright before he fucked it all up.

He presses your name, the contact picture updated to one of the most recent ones he can’t stop staring at when he’s alone in his bed at night and all he can think about is you.

Cassian holds his breath as the phone rings.

And rings.

#acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #cass #cass x reader #cassian x reader #cassian #small town cassian #small town cass #cassian angst #cassian acotar

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rea-grimm · 7 months

Text

Sleep protector Sanji

You once stood at the top. You were one of the best chefs in the world and even a respected food critic. You were all that until a jealous colleague deliberately poisoned you.

He was always jealous of you and your talent in the kitchen, but you thought you were friends despite that. But you couldn't be more wrong about him.

When they tried to poison you, you lost all taste and thus the joy of eating. Even as a cook, you were at your wit's end, as you couldn't even test the food and especially you didn't want to rely on someone else. You didn't trust anyone else anymore.

You've also suffered from nightmares ever since, mostly about food. Thanks to them, you often screamed from sleep and woke up exhausted. This also affected your love relationship and the boyfriend who stood by you until then left you. Just like everyone else you met.

You tried therapy, meditation, sleeping pills, coffee, pills to stay awake, but nothing worked. You felt like your life ended the day you were poisoned.

One day, the doorbell rang. It was strange because you weren't expecting any visitors and no mail. You walked over to the door and opened it.

No one was there, but something was pinching your nose. It kind of reminded you of how your nose stung from the cigarette smoke your ex-boyfriend smoked.

When you didn't see anyone anywhere, you looked around and noticed a small package, wrapped like a gift. It was placed right at your feet, you were surprised you didn't accidentally step on it.

You took the box and noticed that there was a small note tied to the ribbon. You took the box inside and closed the door. You placed the box on the table and untied the black ribbon.

When you opened the letter, you found out that it was a gift from one of your fans. You were moved by his letter, but at the same time, a certain paranoia lived in you that this could be another attempt on your life.

Despite that, you decided to find out what was in the box. You removed the maroon paper from it and opened the lid. The box was lined with light blue paper, on which lay a light teddy bear in a black jacket and blue shirt.

The most striking feature seemed to be his curly eyebrows. You thought it was cute. You took it out and you had to admit that it was made of very pleasant material. In the end, you decided to keep him.

That turned out to be the right thing to do as your nightmares slowly faded away. You were always saved from them by a young man in the same suit as your teddy bear with blond hair and curly eyebrows.

He rescued you from your nightmare and took you to some safe place where he prepared something good for you to eat. It was wonderful to feel the taste of food again in a dream. However, it was even more disappointing to wake up back to a reality where this was not possible.

Although you got rid of one problem, another one appeared. As dreams became more pleasant than reality, you began to have an aversion to real food more often. As much as you missed the taste of the delicious food from your dreams, you became more and more disappointed with real food and refused to eat it.

But you knew very well that it was a problem. Although you didn't want to end up with an eating disorder, you were worried that you were slowly getting closer to it.

It often happened that when you woke up in the morning, you smelled a stench in your room that reminded you of cigarette smoke. You even found a few cigarette butts in a small ashtray that you had no idea you had because you were a non-smoker.

Slowly, hopelessness began to take hold of you again, and even though your dreams were wonderful and represented a wonderful escape, they left you torn.

On the one hand, you were looking forward to the dreams of an excellent chef. Although sometimes he reminded you more of a prince on a white horse than a cook.

On the other hand, you didn't want to return to reality every morning, when almost all the good things from the dream had left.

You were slowly starting to feel sad even in your dreams and the waiter didn't miss it either. While he was preparing food for you in the dream, he was trying to find out what was bothering you.

However, it was just a dream and you didn't want to deal with your problems in it. Instead, you somehow talked it out and helped him a little in the kitchen. You had no idea how much you missed it.

As your mood didn’t improve, you received an envelope from the waiter in your last dream.

"What is it? ” you asked in surprise before opening it. Inside was a brochure with an invitation to the restaurant.

“Sweet Mellorine. It bothers me to see you sad, and I would like to invite you to the restaurant," he got down on one knee as if asking for your hand in marriage.

You were moved and speechless. Why, of all the boys, did you have to fall in love with the one from your dreams?

You finally agreed and the waiter was happy about it. He gently took your hand and kissed it from your fingers to your arm. Something like this has never happened here in your life.

When you woke up in the morning, you thought what a strange and pleasant dream it was. You were even more surprised when you noticed the envelope on the bedside table.

You hesitantly reached for it and opened it. Inside was the same invitation to the restaurant you dreamed about. You didn't understand. How could you be here if it was just a dream?

At first, you were hesitant to go there. However, when you replayed the dream in your head, you decided to give it a try.

You put on better clothes, adjusted yourself and ordered a taxi that took you to the front of the restaurant. Just the way the restaurant looked at you from the outside was unique and unusual.

You walked in and showed the invitation to the front desk. The receptionist took it from you, looking at it for a moment before he excused himself for a moment and left. When he came back, he apologized for the wait and took you to the table.

You passed other tables on your way and felt everyone else's eyes watching you. This hasn't happened to you in a long time. You haven't been to a restaurant for a long time either.

When you were seated, you were given a menu and set about choosing your food. You heard others whispering your name and you had mixed feelings about it. After all, you weren't the same person you were before. Instead, you focused on choosing food. They certainly didn't have a bad choice here.

"Have you already chosen?" said a familiar voice. You turned to the blond waiter who reminded you a lot of your dream. But how would that be possible? Surely it was just a coincidence.

"Not yet, somehow I can't decide," you smiled at him.

“I can offer you a special menu that is much better than all the other bluffs they serve here,” he offered you with a confident smile.

“Then I'll have it,” you replied, handing the menu back to him. The waiter took it from you and left for the kitchen with a satisfied smile.

He then brought you meal after meal. Aperitif, appetizer, soup, several smaller main courses and ended everything with a delicious dessert. At first, you hesitantly took a bite on your fork, afraid to taste it.

You finally popped a bite into your mouth and your tongue burst with such new flavours that it stunned you. For a moment you were completely taken aback. It was so good that you were at a loss for words and had tears in your eyes.

You wiped your eyes as you started eating with new joy. Each dish was more delicious than the first. You had the impression that you had never eaten anything better.

After the meal, the blond waiter came to see if he could offer you anything else. You had more than enough and wanted to pay. As soon as you mentioned it, he started to convince you that it was all on account of the company.

When you got home, you were in a good mood from the restaurant and wanted to write them a positive review. You sat down at the computer and started looking for a restaurant.

However, no matter how hard you searched, you couldn't find even a mention of Baratie anywhere. You slowly got the impression that the restaurant didn't even exist.

The very next day, you went to look at the address, but to your dismay, there was no restaurant there. There was no building at all. Now you were even more interested in where you had been for the meal.

But you couldn't find out anything. You tried to put it behind you, but you still couldn't forget it. It was an unforgettable experience when you regained your appetite even when you were awake. Appetite for food and life.

Since visiting Baratie, you also stopped dreaming about the waiter with a cigarette and wavy eyebrows. You didn't have nightmares anymore, but your dreams weren't that interesting anymore.

One morning you woke up to an apartment smelling of freshly prepared food. You sat down sleepily on the bed, feeling like you were still half asleep. Otherwise, you couldn't even imagine it.

You got up from the bed and headed to the kitchen where you heard the sounds of cooking. That someone would break into your house? But then why would he cook in your kitchen? Such thoughts ran through your mind.

You walked up to the kitchen door and carefully peeked inside. A blond man in a blue shirt stood facing you by the stove. You immediately knew who it was from your dreams and the restaurant.

"Sanji?" you suddenly remembered his name, which he repeated to you many times in your dreams. However, you always forget him in the morning. Sanji turned around, a charming smile spreading across his face.

“Ah, Mellorine, you are finally awake. Did you dream about something amazing?” he asked you as he served the finished omelette on a plate. You mumbled something in agreement that you slept well and moved closer to him.

"I'm glad to hear that," he breathed. “I'm glad those annoying nightmares have finally given up. Now that I don't have to waste time with them, I can prepare something for you to eat," he said casually and placed the plate on the table.

"Am I still dreaming?" you asked in awe as it was too good to be true.

"What do you mean?" he asked confused, walking over to you and taking your hands.

"The fact that I dreamed about all of this..." you had no idea how to explain it without getting involved in it yourself.

"This is not a dream," he said when he finally understood what you were getting at. "Dreams aren't the only thing that needs protecting. Besides, I'll be much better at helping you here than there," he said seriously and you started to melt in his blue eyes for a moment when he was so close to you.

During breakfast, he tried to explain to you what he was doing to help you and relieve you of your problems. You were stunned by this, but it made sense. You just still haven't figured out how a little teddy bear turned into such a handsome man.

When you said this out loud to him, he turned red and his nose started to bleed. You immediately rushed to him full of worry. You were worried he'd have a heart attack.

After a while, Sanji calmed down and you wanted to thank him for everything he did for you. You felt like words couldn't express what all of this meant to you, so you kissed him lightly on the lips.

The unexpected gesture made the chef stop before he wrapped his arms around you and started showering you with lots of quick kisses and compliments. And even though he still had blood on his nose, you could tell by the hearts in his eyes that he was in seventh heaven.

Sanji Masterlist

Sleep Protector Masterlist

#one piece #one piece x reader #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sleep protector #sleep protector sanji #teddy bear #sanji #Monster Piece

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didyoulookforme · 5 months

Note

thinking about riding Matty while his hands are tied behind his back yummy yummy monday evening thoughts

oh my god anon, thank you for this.

are you in my head? because this is something i've been wanting to chat about regarding soft subby bf matty but haven't gone around to doing a proper blurb so here are some ramblings that i hope make sense. it's just a run-on stream of consciousness thing with no formatting and no real ending. i also got too carried away so it is a longer one lol

warning: 18+, smut, reader is upset. grammatical errors, typos.

other bf matty blurbs & rambles here.

okay, so imagine you just got home from a fucking awful day of work. freaking debbie from accounting is back at it, making your job impossible and a living hell. who knows what her problem is. anyway. right away when you enter the apartment you are greeted by the scent of a delicious pasta that your dear bf matty is preparing because he's one damn good cook (it's canon for him, lol). you go to the kitchen and sit at the bar, watching as matty whips up the alfredo sauce which is your favourite. matty greets you without looking at first because he's too focused on getting the proper cheese to cream ratio for the sauce, but once he does, he knows right away that something's off.

bad day, huh?

you make some sort of confirming grunt before you rest your forehead on the cold marble countertop. because your head is down, you don't notice the sad expression on matty's face; he cares about you too much so anytime you're feeling down he cannot help but feel upset, too. he takes one last taste of the sauce (perfect!) before he pulls it off the fire and places it on a trivet. as much as he loves cooking and prepping dinner for you, he wants to make you feel better. so the pasta can wait. bless him.

he takes off his denim apron (which has a drawing of a rooster on the front, for some reason...) before heading over to your side. you feel the warm palm of his hand rub your back in the gentlest of ways while his other grabs your hand. c'mon darling. you raise your head to finally look at your surroundings again only to realize that he stove burners are off and his apron is crumpled on the countertop.

matty, what about the food, i know you like finish-

don't worry about it, love, the food will still taste good later on. let's go.

you're not one to deny him, so you get off the stool and follow his lead as he takes you over to the living room, guiding you to both to sit on the sofa.

he asks about your day as he knows talking makes you feel better in these sort of occasions but it catches him off guard (and you as well, truly) when you just start sobbing uncontrollably as you recount your day. the stress and pressure has been building in your body that all you can really do is cry out of frustration. matty instantly brings you close so you're straddling him, arms wrapped tightly around you, trying to provide some sort of comfort as the tears just stream down your face soaking the fabric of his shirt. your head is buried in the crook of his neck, giving him access to gently kiss the skin of your exposed neck, continuously whispering it's okay, it's okay.

and everything is usually okay, but this time you cannot help but feel an overwhelming mixture of anger and exhaustion. it's bad enough that you've subconsciously grabbed fistfuls of your boyfriend's curly hair, and when you realize you're doing so, you instantly jerk away, apologizing profusely while more tears streak down your face.

oh no, i'm sorry. i'm so sor--

he urgently but carefully grabs your face between his hands, bringing his forehead against yours. it's okay, it's okay. everything feels like too much right now, that not even the sensation of his gentle fingers on your face can soothe whatever is brewing inside you.

and at that moment you cannot help but kiss him. hard, fast and hungrily. he whimpers against your lips at the shock of it all, but doesn't hesitate to kiss you back, letting you take the lead and set the pace. teeth clashing against each other, you bitting at his bottom lip, shoving your tongue in his mouth constantly. it's messy and aggressive but he doesn't stop you, only pulling away to catch your breath, looking down at the crumbled fabric of his now over stretched shirt clenched in between your fingers.

seeing his dishevelled state--red swollen lips, unruly hair, wrinkled top--is enough to edge you on to continue, now focusing on leaving marks all over his neck, around the several necklaces that he wears. there's nothing gentle about it, a sharp contrast as to how softly he's holding on to your waist. you lick, bite, suck at any skin that you find, leaving behind countless bruises along the way as he moans uncontrollably underneath you. your left hand is back on his hair, pulling at it so his neck is exposed, while your right one is aimlessly trying to unbutton his pants but failing miserably. god knows you're already frustrated enough, so you just grab one of matty's hands and bring it over to the front of his jeans so he can undo the pesky button and zipper himself. once he's done, he places your palm back at the top of his pants, giving him a mumbled thank you before you slide your fingers under the fabric of his boxers.

you waste no time and start stroking his cock as fast as you can, all while you desperately kiss him leaving you both breathless once more. because of your erratic pace, it doesn't take long for matty to begin losing control. you know he's getting near his climax because of the way his legs are starting to shake and how close he pulls your body against him. however, you're too deep in whatever trance has possessed over you, that you take your hand away as to not let him finish. not yet at least.

and before he says anything about it, you get off his lap and on to your feet, dragging him up with you so you can take off his pants and underwear completely. you instruct him to remove his shirt and you swear he's never done it faster in his life. instantly your lips are clashing against each other for the millionth time that night, giving you the chance to reach behind your head and undo the white silk scarf holding up your ponytail. again, you're not entirely sure what's taken over your mind and body, but before you know it, you tie matty's wrists behind his back.

you push him down on the couch, bitting your bottom lip and silently asking him if this is alright. the fucked out expression and small smile tugging at the corner of his lips is all the confirmation you need.

please.

you take off your soaked underwear but decide to keep your floral cotton dress on because you know it's his favourite. it's the least you can do for how you've been treating him. not that he minds; it's quite the opposite in fact. with each of your knees to his sides, you straddle him for the second time that night, grabbing his cock and guiding him to your cunt before you sink down and take him all at once.

and it fucking hurts. having him inside you without any foreplay is probably a stupid choice, but part of you hopes that the pain can help take away some of the anger and resentment built up in your body not only from that day, but weeks and months prior. more tears end up streaming down your face. from the pain or anger, you don't know. probably both.

hey, hey. love are you ok-?

you cover his mouth with your hand before he can say anything else, but you look at him and nod, glassy eyes assuring him that it is okay. he returns an understanding, soft look, and that's when you finally begin to move your hips, grinding hard against his dick so you can feel every single inch of him inside you. in that instant you see his brown eyes roll to the back of his head, mumbling a fuck against the palm of your hand. you work yourself up to a steady pace, switching between grinding and moving up and down his cock to hit that spot inside you which makes you delusional.

with your fingers still over his open mouth, you can hear his muffled moans, his spit now covering the palm of your hand and dripping down his chin. it's fucking obscene sight but one that you hope you'll never forget.

making sure that his eyes are on yours, you finally take the hand off his mouth. his gaze follows as you take your soaked fingers and guide them under your dress, your high pitched moans a clear sign that you have started to rub your clit.

oh my fucking god.

he snaps his head up to look at you with the most lustful yet loving expression on his face. the adoration radiating off him is too much for you to handle and you cannot help but smile, the first time you’d done so during that whole day. there is no more pain, no more tears, just pure pleasure running through your body, washing away the frustration.

thank you.

#sorry for ending it there #hope this makes some sense #bf matty blurb #anon asks #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #bf matty #matty healy smut #smutty asks #matty asks #bf matty asks #mw

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bvtbxtch · 1 year

Text

On The Line | Eddie Munson

Day Seven of Kinktober

Summary: Pumpkin Pie is back on the menu at Hank's Diner. What happens when the new waitress needs to stay with the Jaded line cook to prepare for fall festivities?

wc: ~4.3k

Pairings: Linecook!Eddie Munson x Waitress!Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI!!! This is porn with a plot. Thigh riding, public sex, sloppy sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), fingering, dry humping, overstimulation if you squint, unprotected p in v (don't be silly, wrap the willy), sex in a kitchen (if you work at a food establishment please don't do this ever), this is taking place in an AU where the events of ST4 didn't happen

In collaboration with the lovely @darknesseddiem! Please keep an eye out for their prompts starting Oct 16!

A/N: my apologies this is a day late. I had to work all day and then had a wedding to go to! So you'll have two posts to look forward to today!!

You wish that you had a different life. You had lived in the quiet town of Salem, Indiana. You wanted to move to the big city but the closest you could get was sleepy Hawkins, Indiana, a mere 60 minutes out of the Indianapolis city limits, but the exact same font as your southern Indiana town. The only job you could manage to get was at the highway diner leaving town. You had friends, sure, but you had dreams and aspirations bigger than Hawkins; maybe that’s why you had such animosity towards your job. You always had the overnight shifts, as others that worked there had kids or other commitments. The only respite to these “Red Eye” shifts ( as your boss Murray had called them) was the cook you often found yourself working with. He didn’t talk to you much, and the most he had offered was a tight lipped smile and a “hi” to your nightly greetings or a "you're welcome when you thank him for putting your orders up as soon as he could . You had heard of Eddie Munson before, but from what you could tell, most things you heard weren’t true. You had worked with him on and off for almost a year and never thought he was an alcoholic satanist who may or may not have murdered someone. He was effortlessly handsome: his curly brown hair was always tied back in a low bun. His pale skin was highlighted with a soft sheen of sweat and a rosy blush. You often saw his lower arms adorned with black blotches of ink and he rarely went to work in his cook whites - opting for a pair of relaxed black jeans, a band tee and a white apron. You were intrigued, getting to know Eddie Munson was going to be the excitement you needed.

The blazing sun of September had cooled off and the crisp breeze of October was a warm welcome. You put your sheer black tights on underneath your pale yellow dress. You straightened your skirt out and patted some rose pink lipstick on your lips. You were ready for another slow shift at the diner, but you weren’t complaining. You had made some progress with your growing infatuation with Eddie Munson. He had put your order up under the heat lamps and you thanked him by name last week. You saw his cheeks grow redder than normal and he nodded at you shyly. A couple days later, Eddie had taken your order for your own dinner: pancakes with some syrup and whipped cream. He had put it under the heat lamp and backed away to his flat top. To your surprise, you picked up your plate to see strawberries and whipped cream fastened into a smiley face on your stack of flapjacks. You felt your heart drop to your stomach in appreciation. You leaned over the heatlamp to yell a thank you to the boy, he had retorted with a “you’re most welcome, Y/N.” He knew your name! Between then and now, there had been fleeting looks, some lingering touches at the window and a really great conversation about the town’s record shop when the two of you took your smoke break. You were excited and hopeful for your interactions tonight. The diner had been slowing down and there had been more and more opportunities to chat. For your sake, you wanted there to be no customers at all.

You swung the diner doors open and the smile faded from your lips when you saw Murray sitting at the front counter, no one else in the restaurant.

“Good news, doll!” Murray sang to you. “You’re off the clock tonight. Diner’s closing because we gotta revamp the new fall menu. Pumpkin pie for everyone!” Murray declared as he spun himself off the stool and past you to the door. Eddie pushed through the swinging doors and behind the bar.

“Yeah, smarty pants over here ordered 20 boxes of pie shell mix for this week, not 2… So I have 60 pies to make before this shit goes bad.” Eddie grumbled.

“So Eddie is taking the lead and you get the night off.” You were wracked with disappointment. You hated to admit the hold that the metalhead had on you - especially to him and your boss. But a night alone at the diner with him might be what you need to get him on your good side.

“I’ll stay and help!” You offered. Eddie’s glowing brown eyes met yours and both of you instantly looked at the floor. “My grandma and I used to make pies all the time. Plus if I’m in the way, I can get other prep or cleaning done.” Eddie ran his hands through his hair, a soft smile appeared on his face.

“I mean…. Usually when I offer a day off it's taken with a ‘thank you, Murray’ but whatever… if you wanna work, it’s your funeral.” With that, Murray had strutted out of the diner and to his convertible in the parking lot. You locked the door behind him and turned to Eddie with a shy smile.

“It’s crazy that he still drives a convertible in this weather.” You offered. Eddie responded with a small chuckle.

“Have you ever been in the back before?” Eddie asked as he turned to retreat back into the kitchen, encouraging you cautiously to follow him. You pushed through the stark white swinging doors after him.

“Ah, no actually. Only stuff I’ve seen is through the bay window and the heat lamp.” You admitted. Eddie spun around to look at you. It was the first time you were in his space and you felt vulnerable. His chocolate brown eyes studied your face. His stare was intense, you couldn’t help but look down to the floor. Little did you know, his stare was full of wonder and admiration at his beautiful invader of his space. Eddie cleared his throat and turned away from you again, leading you further into the stainless steel kitchen.

“So… I have all the boxes of the dough mix in the walk-in” Eddie gestures to the small oven sitting under the flat top. “And this… is what we’re working with tonight. So, it’ll take a while for all of our shit to bake.” Your eyes widened at the tiny apparatus before you. It really was going to be a long night of work. You were excited to be in close contact with the man before you. The back kitchen was like an alley, long but skinny. You now understood why they only had one cook on the line at a time.

“Do you want me to help you get everything mixed up?” your confidence was dwindling quicker than you would have liked to admit. “Or I can just restock stuff and do other prep-”

“No! No- ahem. A hand would be really great. Then I can help you out while the pies bake.” Help you out, you wish he would. Your heart was in your butt as you nodded at him.

You spent the next hour helping Eddie unload and divide the dough mix into servings, he insisted that he lift the boxes to you because they were heavy. You didn’t mind though, getting to sneak peeks at his lightly toned biceps flex under the weight of the boxes. You felt the room getting warmer and warmer each time you secretly raked your eyes over the book. You worked mostly in silence, until Eddie worked up the bravery to ask you a question while he brought in the last box.

“So… you’re obviously not from around here.” He said.

“Obviously? What makes it so obvious?” You giggled.

“Well the fact that I didn’t see you in school at all… and the fact that there’s just something different about you.” You looked up from the bowl you were currently sifting the last bit of mix into. Eddie’s cheeks were red and there was a sparkle in his eyes. You didn’t miss how his eyes flitted to your lips briefly. He smiled back at you and turned to the fridge to grab eggs and butter.

“What about you? You've been in Hawkins for a while? I don’t see you at any parties or anything” You implored. You knew that answer already. Your neighbor across the hall warned you about one Eddie Munson when you told her about your new job. "The Freak of Hawkins High” had followed him, even after 3 years of being graduated. You prodded her for more information. She had been a year ahead of him, but told you about how he had a reputation for sleeping with girls who couldn’t get off with their boyfriends. One party Chirssy Cunningam’s boyfriend had walked in on her fucking Eddie in the bathroom and Jason made Eddie’s life a living hell after that. After graduation he flipped his principal the bird and told the rest of the kids in his class to fuck themselves. No one really saw him out after that, keeping his life in recluse. After Eddie had been shut out, apparently girls would flock to his house to have their escapades and brag about how weird and dangerous he was. You had heard your fair share of rumors in your own small town, but you were smarter than you were then. You knew not to trust anything flying around until you could make your own opinions.

“Ummm.. yeah. Unfortunately I have.” The mop of curls let out a dry laugh. “Hawkins hasn’t been too nice to me, I just don’t have the funds to get out of here, you know? That’s why I work almost every day of the week, haha. I have nothing else to do with my time.” You can sense that Eddie was retreating into his own world, feeling comfortable enough to share secrets and sighs with you, things that he hasn’t told anyone. He caught himself though. He looked up at you like a deer caught in headlights, expecting you to turn your nose up at him, but you looked at him with genuine sympathy and understanding.

“I get it. This was as close as I could get to the big city. It took me forever to leave Painted Hills.” Eddie probed you for a reaction. Your eyes clouded over as the lifetime of sour memories flashed in front of your eyes. You and Eddie both knew that you were treading into dangerous territory.

“Alright, enough serious talk, this is supposed to be fun” he winked at you. You both traded stories of your childhood and interviewed the other about favorite music and foods and books. Eddie didn’t necessarily look it, but he was intelligent, and a natural conversationalist. You peered up at the clock after what seemed like 10 minutes of talking. The clock read 10:46pm. You looked down and realized that the two of you had almost completely finished kneading the dough and filling it into trays.

“Holy hell, it’s already been 4 hours?!” You chuckled.

“Seems like time flies when you’re having fun.” You stared in bewilderment at the boy’s blooming confidence. Earlier he wouldn’t say anything but two words to you. You and Eddie mixed and filled the pies and began putting your first rounds in the oven.

Eddie had nudged your arm with his elbow as he grabbed two more pies to bake, he walked back to the oven, his eyes not leaving yours. You looked down at the floor with a smitten smile. When you looked back up at the boy on the other side of the kitchen from you, his smile was replaced with a nervous frown. You held your breath in anticipation. Did you do something wrong? Eddie took a few steps towards you, close enough to touch him, but he was sure not to invade your space. What a gentleman.

“You… umm.. You have some dough on your face…” Eddie gestured softly to your cheek that had been smeared with a small swipe of pie dough. You gasped with a small ‘oh’ and swiped the back of your hand over your cheek. Eddie let out a short laugh.

“You made it worse.” You giggled at him with a small ‘oops’. Your smile was contagious to Eddie. He saw your bright eyes crinkle as you smile and he couldn’t help but copy you. He bit down on his lip to stop him from laughing.

“Can… can I get it for you?” Eddie’s smile faded quickly. He took one more step towards you. You could smell the faint remnants of his musky cologne he had put on before work. You nodded your head slowly. Eddie studied your face, desperate to remember every detail of your face in case he never got the chance to be this close to you again. He sheepishly raised his hand to your cheek and swiped the residue away with his thumb. You felt your skin erupt in goosebumps at his touch. You felt electric shocks where Eddie’s skin connected with yours. Eddie’s eyes glued themselves to your lips as he moved himself closer. His breath fanned over your face and you thought you could faint.

“I’ve heard what they’ve said about you,” you whispered. Eddie froze. His eyes met his, they were full of panic. He began to back away from you but you placed your hands on the sides of his neck and pulled him back to you.

“What-”

“And I don’t care. I don’t give a shit what anyone says about you.” You ghosted your lips over his, giving him an opportunity to push you away. He snaked his hand to your cheek and pulled his lips to yours. You quickly moved together and the kiss sent molten heat to your core. Eddie was beautiful, sure, but he seemed unobtainable. Now that he let you in, you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself back. Luckily for you, Eddie was in the same predicament.

Eddie’s hands quickly found purchase at your hips, pulling you into him like he was attempting to intertwine your bodies into one. You moaned into Eddie’s mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Your tongues danced together seamlessly, both of your chests heaving for breath. You pulled away to look at the boy in front of you. His eyes had turned from a golden brown to almost black, clouded with need and lust. Eddie pinned you up against the wall kissing you until you felt silly. He lifted your leg around his waist, giving him better access to feel you on him. You were a moaning mess from the friction Eddie’s jeans were giving your clothed pussy.

“Eddie” you hissed. The sensation left your body begging for more. More. More.

“That feel good?” Eddie cooed. You looked like a piece of art against him - a mewling masterpiece. God, he wanted to hold you like this forever. All of his invisible pining for you, the longing looks, the sleepless nights longing for you; everything had bubbled up in this moment and Eddie needed to restrain himself from devouring you whole. He had hoped he would have you literally anywhere but his kitchen, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“Eddie” you gasped. You needed more of him - all of him. You bucked your hips against his, pushing moans out of both of your mouths. Eddie trailed his kisses down your cheeks to your neck. You moaned bashfully as Eddie bit down on your pulse point. He pulled away from you and looked into your eyes with a smirk.

“Don’t be quiet for me, doll. It’s just us. I wanna hear how good you feel.” Eddie’s purrs sent your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He pulled himself onto the counter, pushing himself up to sit on it, while he pulled you into him, slotting his thigh against your needy core.

“Come on, babe. Show me how good you feel. Make yourself feel good.”

You tentatively ground your hips down on the lanky boy’s thigh. The friction you felt was delicious, addictive. You couldn’t help but grind down harder on him, your melodic sighs and moans were music to Eddie’s ears. He felt like he could cum in his jeans if he didn’t focus on holding himself back. His hands migrated to your hips, guiding you harder and faster onto him. He could feel your warmth through his jeans. He was so ready to hear you come undone for him. Your noises got louder and higher pitched.

“E-eddie” you whined. God, his name sounded like a prayer falling out of your mouth, his new favorite song.

“What is it, honey, you gonna cum for me?” Eddie teased you. You violently shook your head. Eddie’s grip became bruising as he stopped your movements. You cried out in desperation, you could feel the beginning waves of your orgasm on the peak of arrival. You looked at Eddie with a confused huff. Before you could register what was happening, Eddie had switched your spots. His strong arms wrapped around you and your uniform’s skirt now hiked up around your waist. Eddie slid down the counter to his knees. His eyes were dark and pleading.

“I need to taste you. Please” His hands hovered over your thighs, desperately waiting for your response.

“Please, Eds. Please.” You squirmed in your seat. If you weren’t so fucked out already, you might be embarassed for your desperation. But you felt so good, you were so entangled in the moment you didn’t care. All you could think of was Eddie.

Eddie’s hands trailed up the tops of your thighs and trailed over your core. He hastily dug his fingers into your fishnets and tore, making a remark about your ‘fucking tights’. His strength only sent more waves of heat to your pussy, more than ready to meet Eddie’s embrace. Eddie could see how excited you were through your purple lacy panties that were stained with a deep wet patch.

“Fuck… so wet, this all f’me?” Eddie smirked up at you. You bit your lip and tried to close your legs with no avail. Eddie kept his large hands on your inner thighs, preventing you from closing me out. He let out a small tsk. Eddie hooked his fingers into the offending garment and pushed them to the side, putting your pussy on display for him. Eddie let out an animalistic moan; it was getting harder for him to control himself. He took a long lick up your slit, sending shivers down your spine. Your hands flew to Eddie’s hair to ground yourself. Eddie flicked expertly at your clit sending you hurling close to orgasm yet again. Eddie thought you were the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. He explored every part of you, moaning into you, making your thighs shake. He could tell you were close. He stuck his middle finger into your weeping hole and curled. Your eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, your orgasm was threatening to boil over and the only thing you could manage to do was scream out Eddie’s name. Eddie found your G-spot with ease and rubbed against it, throwing you over the edge. You saw stars as waves of hot pleasure took over your body. You had no control over the tremors that rushed through your limbs. Eddie moaned into you as he worked you through your high. You had to pull Eddie by his hair to get him off of you, the overstimulation pushing past the boundary of pain from pleasure. Eddie rose to his feet and took you in: you had a light sheen of sweat beading on your forehead, your mascara had smudged slightly under your eyes, your lips were swollen from his kisses and your neck was a constellation of hickeys. He needed you fully. He had no idea what he would do if the two of you walked away from your shift tonight and never saw each other again.

“Y/N I…. I need you.” Eddie’s voice softened. His eyes clouded with lust still, but longing and desire glared back at you.

“Take me, Eddie.”

Eddie’s mouth was back on yours, the tang of your essence still on his tongue. It made you moan into Eddie's mouth. The metalhead fiddled with his belt, never leaving his mouth from yours. It was your turn to turn primal. You gnawed at Eddie’s bottom lip and mashed your tongue with his. You both felt like you might pass out from lack of oxygen, but thought it would be much worse to not be on each other. Eddie shoved his jeans past his hips and free’d his achingly hard cock with a sigh. He grabbed your hip with one hand and lined himself up with your entrance. He rubbed his tip through your sensitive folds, eliciting moans from both of you.

“Fuck, babe….” Eddie clenched his jaw, determined to ride out this high for as long as he could. He slid himself into you slowly. He was large, larger than you had ever been with and the stretch made you feel so unbelievably full.

Eddie pushed gently until he was fully sheathed. He could feel himself growing overwhelmingly hot. His cheeks had turned from his usual shade of light pink to red. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body. He had been white knuckling your hip and the counter.

“Move Eddie, please, god move.” You encouraged. You wanted - needed Eddie’s cool to break. You wanted him to ruin you. Eddie slowly pulled himself all the way out and pushed himself back into your needy hole. You cried out in pleasure; his pace was slow, but ruthless. Every thrust hit your cervix encouraging your second orgasm of the night. Eddie was biting his lips so hard that it looked like it was going to split and start bleeding. His eyes were transfixed on where the two of you met. You cupped Eddie’s face to bring his gaze back to yours. You felt so good, and didn’t know how well you could take him, but you could tell he was still holding back. You pulled your lips to his ears and whispered gently to him:

“Give me everything, Eddie. I want you to give it to me.” You heard Eddie’s breath hitch and get caught in his throat. He pulled back and studied your face. There was zero hesitation in your stare, only devotion and encouragement. Eddie’s brain short circuited. Eddie grabbed your neck and squeezed as his brutal pace picked up. You felt light headed - the only thing you could see was Eddie’s determined visage and the only thing you could hear was the pornographic sounds of Eddie’s balls hitting your ass. You closed your eyes in pleasure, but Eddie shook you back to him.

“Look at me. Eyes on me.” He growled. His face twisted in animalistic pleasure. You let the small rasps of your breath escape around Eddie’s vice. Eddie pulled out of you completely, making you whine at the loss of contact. Eddie pulled you off the counter by the neck and turned you around so your back was against his toned chest. Eddie pushed your head down so you were bent over the cool counter. Eddie’s large hands slapped down on the curves of your ass before filling you back up. You couldn’t help but yell an ‘oh my god’ as Eddie began pounding into you.

“Not god, doll, just me.” he huffed with a laugh. Your body was on display for Eddie and the more he watched himself disappear and reappear into you, the closer his own release got. He could feel you clenching down on him; you must be close.

“Can you give me another one, sweet? I want you to cum with me okay?” Eddie could barely get the words out of his mouth without the knot in his abdomen snapping.

“Eddie… I-I can’t” You were so fucked out and overstimulated you had no idea if your body could handle any more sensation. To your surprise, Eddie’s arm snaked under your hips to meet your sore clit. He rubbed soft circles into you in rhythm with his intense thrusts. You grabbed onto the edge of the counter and began to hyperventilate. You thought you were going to combust.

“Come on, babe. You can do it. Cum for me,” Eddie wanted his commands to sound encouraging, but he was desperate. However, with his permission your second orgasm of the night hit you like a freight train. You couldn’t feel your legs. You screamed out, unable to feel the difference between pain and indulgence - but you didn’t want it to stop. Your pussy had Eddie in capture, squeezing down on him unthinkably hard. His hips stuttered but he kept on his assault, desperate to cum just as hard as he made you. Like you, Eddie’s orgasm hit him with little lead up. He grabbed your chest to pull you up to him. Eddie whimpered into your ear as you milked him for everything that was in him.

In a flurry of heavy breaths and pounding hearts, you and Eddie stood in silence, basking within each other’s embrace. Begrudgingly, Eddie pulled out of you and pulled his pants back around his slender hips. You straightened yourself out and tucked your underwear back into their normal spot, preventing the remnants of Eddie’s orgasm from leaking down your leg. You guess you still have some work to do. You turn around and look at Eddie as he finishes buckling his belt. He met your glowing complexion with a lovesick grin. You felt like you could stay like this forever, basking in his glow; and he felt the same for you.

The smell of smoke and burnt pumpkin snapped the two of you out of your trances.

“Oh fuck!” Eddie yelps. You both rush to the other side of the kitchen to the small oven now leaking gray smoke. Eddie threw open the oven door and was greeted by a billow of smoke. You grabbed at some rags to wave the smoldering cloud away. Eddie the remnants of two very charred pumpkin pies. He looked at you with a bellowing laugh.

“Guess we’ll be down a couple of pies.”

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