#'curly hair tied back/wrapped up' look | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cressidagrey · 4 months ago

Text

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

267 notes · View notes

pandorxxx · 2 years ago

Text

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

2K notes · View notes

cottonlemonade · 2 months ago

Text

Stargazing

word count: 972 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: Sakusa x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: watching Goosebumps with caramel popcorn while dressed as a shark with Sakusa || fluffy, camping with crush Sakusa

As summer drew to a close the newly graduated third years of the Itachiyama volleyball club, along with a select few classmate friends, decided to go spend a weekend outdoors - away from the city and the constant noise, away from the impending pressure of university, soaking up those last few pockets of warmth before fall took over and their days would undoubtedly be ruled by studying once more. However, after Sakusa‘s ice-cold glare at the word “camping”, it quickly turned to glamping.

The sun started to set when the shuttle rolled smoothly along the narrow road up to a small grouping of dome-shaped tents nestled neatly in a wide clearing on an otherwise densely vegetated hillside. Fall had already begun to dot the trees with golds and vermillion and although the weather was cooling down by the day, many visitors strolled across the lawn, playing badminton or throwing a frisbee accompanied by a lot of loud hollering and laughter, much to Sakusa’s dismay. One by one you hopped off the bus and looked around, taking deep breaths of the fresh mountain air. Mount Fuji, the bottom of which was surrounded by a cloud of gray mist, was clearly visible in the distance and its snowy top seemed to glow in the remaining sunlight.

Sleeping arrangements were somewhat quickly decided with only minor squabbling and the group headed to the nearby town center to grab fresh supplies for this night‘s BBQ.

While Komori was busy orchestrating the grilling, Sakusa beelined to the still empty showers to escape the incessant chatter of the group for a while. He let out a long sigh as the hot water ran down his back, massaging his shoulder. It still felt stiff after the last match. He replayed the game in his mind, every block, every spike, every failed attack. He cringed when he remembered how he messed up a serve because he heard you calling his name in encouragement through the crowd‘s cheers. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes for a moment, your voice still in his ears. You had stood with the reserves on the side of the court, the team jacket tied around your pudgy tummy, scribbling notes on your clipboard without looking at the paper so you didn’t miss anything. As the picture of your smile during the inevitable victory hug that followed became more vivid, he shut the water off.

When he rejoined the others, hair as curly as ever from the steam, they were already plating up.

“Hey captain, glad you could make it.”, Komori greeted him jokingly, “To be honest, we thought you might have called a taxi back to Tokyo.”

The group chuckled and his cousin nodded to the free seat next to you.

After dinner, it was voted that everyone would toss around a glow-in-the-dark volleyball that one of them bought just for the occasion. Sakusa didn’t feel the need to join and when he spotted you sitting outside your tent wrapped in a blanket he decided to push his bedtime back a little.

“Not in the mood?”, he asked, standing a bit awkwardly with his hands in his pockets in front of the wooden deck the tent was on.

“More so that I can trip on a well-lit court just fine. Invisible divots in the meadow would only make it worse.”

He nodded.

“Good point.”

“Hey!”, you laughed.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Uhm, no go ahead.”, you scooched over on the picnic blanket you had laid out and he sat down next to you.

“How come you’re here and not playing over there?”

“Not interested.”, Sakusa said simply, “But I don’t need Komori accusing me of being antisocial, so…”

“Ah, hiding in plain sight with the other introvert. I see I see.”

He smiled.

“So, what were you doing before I interrupted?”

“Just stargazing.”

He leaned back on his hands and followed your eyes. The night was strewn with stars, hanging like a thousand little lanterns on the inky sky. The crescent moon barely lit the campgrounds. Sakusa shivered when a breeze brushed past.

“Here.”, you said and tugged at the blanket around your shoulders, throwing part of it over his back. He had half a mind to shrug it off but it carried your warmth and scent, so instead, after a second thought, he pulled it closer.

“Look, there is Cygnus.”, he pointed to a cluster of stars somewhere to your right to distract you from possibly noticing the blush that crept onto his cheeks.

“Really?”

“No idea.”

You squinted at him and he chuckled.

For a while you were both quiet, just letting your eyes wander along the stars. The sounds of the fellow campers were more subdued now. People were talking over bonfires, toasting to the end of summer and someone was playing relatively pleasant music in the distance. The smell of roasted marshmallows wafted in your direction. Sakusa looked down and noticed that your hand was only inches away from his. If he moved his fingers a little further…

“I’m gonna miss being your manager.”, you sighed without taking your eyes off the sky.

“We’re going to the same university, aren’t we?”, he asked, still focused on slowly bringing his hand closer to yours.

“Oh, yeah but I meant, all of you guys. Not just you. Even though I’m gonna miss managing you more than - wait, not that I - uhm, I meant that-“

Your head snapped to the blanket where his large hand now covered your chubby fingers.

“I got it, don’t worry.”, he said, his voice sounding a lot raspier than he would have liked and so he attempted to covertly clear his throat.

Not even the night could hide his blush as he tried to look unbothered when you turned your hand up to lace your fingers with his.

art: @DcGhost_2710 on Twitter

a/n: request for @act-nat-ural

Thank you so much for this soft request! I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for your kind words! 🌟🫶🏻

for requests see here

#sunnys movie night #sakusa x chubby reader #sakusa kyoomi x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu x curvy reader #sakusa kyoomi x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n #sakusa fluff #sakusa x reader #hq sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu sakusa

127 notes · View notes

mythicmanuscripts · 3 months ago

Note

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.

161 notes · View notes

steddiealltheway · 2 years ago

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

3K notes · View notes

pretty-sparkle-bomb · 1 month ago

Text

You are now reading Part 4 of my series!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You smile as you wave the flag down, signaling the beginning of tonight’s race. Walking to where Mina was, you sigh and drop the flag unceremoniously. Katsuki wasn’t racing tonight, opting to stay and spectate instead. A grin makes its way onto his face when he notices your figure nearing closer, pulling a chair next to his as he gestures for you to sit there. With a grumble, you move his hands away from his lap and plop straight onto of him. His arms instinctively wrap around your midsection, pulling you close to his chest.

“Someone’s in a bad mood tonight.” You can hear Mina’s snicker as she walks away. “Leave me alone,” you whine, slumping into his hold. The buzz of alcohol makes your mood even more sulky, and there’s nothing more that you want than to close your eyes and fall into a deep slumber, surrounded by Katsuki’s warmth.

No, the two of you weren’t a thing—yet. You and Katsuki had been on multiple dates, each one better than the last, and somehow, he never failed to surprise you. But neither of you had put a label on what you were. Kaminari couldn’t stand it anymore. “You two are the biggest idiots on the planet,” he’d groan, often rolling his eyes at the obvious chemistry that neither of you fully addressed. After enough frustration, he started calling you ‘Dynamite’s girl’.

And honestly, you didn’t mind it. In fact, you kind of loved it. The idea of being his made your heart skip a beat, though you’d never admit it out loud. When Katsuki first heard the nickname, his reaction was classic. A scowl paired with “stupid fuckin dunceface and his crazy names”, but he never bothered correcting it. Instead, anytime he heard it, he’d immediately turn to you with that stupidly handsome lopsided grin of his.

Of course you felt special, knowing that out of everyone, you were the one people associated with Katsuki Bakugo. The same guy who could tear through a racetrack at lightning speed, the guy who bent the crowd to his will, making them chant his name over and over again, like a mantra.

He wasn’t one for big, romantic declarations, but his actions spoke volumes. The way his hand lingered on your back when you stood beside him, the subtle, protective way he’d guide you through crowds, the silent exchanges between you that no one else understood. It was enough for now, even without the label. You knew it would come eventually—when Katsuki was ready to say it out loud.

Mina’s voice cut your train of thoughts, causing you to rub your eyes and look up to find her sauntering over to you, a blonde-haired girl behind her. “Guys, meet the new flag girl!"

New flag girl?

Kirishima piped in. “No offence babe, but don’t we have two already?” He means both you and Mina, but she shrugs, “We’ll do shifts. I’m tired.”

You felt a knot tightening in your stomach as you turned to face the new flag girl. She had curly silver hair tied up in a high ponytail, and her outfit—a snug tank top and shorts—drew attention in all the right ways.

“I’m Emiko, love the eyeliner.” she said with a smile, showcasing a set of straight white teeth. You managed a small wave in response, looking away quickly.

“Yeah, great to meet you,” you replied, forcing a smile while your mind buzzed with questions. Didn’t Mina know how much you loved being part of the action?

“Just think of me as your backup,” the cheery girl said, her grin wide. “Mina mentioned she needed someone to fill in. I can’t wait to help.” She seemed genuinely excited, and you hated that you couldn’t muster up the same enthusiasm.

You turned to Katsuki, hoping for some reassurance, but he was too busy focused on the track, lines creasing his forehead in concentration as the racers completed their eighth lap.

It made you relieved that he wasn’t paying attention to her in the slightest.

“Don’t worry, you’ll still be my main girl!” Mina chirped, nudging you playfully. You forced a laugh, but it felt hollow.

“Sure,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I just hope she knows what she’s doing.”

Closing your eyes, you intertwined your fingers with Bakugo’s, feeling him squeezing it gently and pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head.

The clinking of bottles paired with laughter caused you to stir awake. Tears clouded your vision as you yawned. Sitting up, you were aware that you were, surprisingly, still in Katsuki’s lap, his arm around your shoulders, still holding you close.

Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you looked around, the scent of grilled food and beer filling the air.

“Can you believe Sero actually pulled that off?” Kaminari exclaimed, his voice ringing out over the din. “Thought he was going to crash and burn for sure!”

“Honestly, I was ready to collect my losses,” Kyoka added, leaning back against her chair, her purple hair cascading over her shoulders. “But Sero has a knack for surprising everyone.”

“Never underestimate the man with a plan,” Kirishima chimed in, raising his bottle in salute to Sero, who was soaking in the attention with a smug grin. “Cheers to our winning streak!”

Mina poured another round of drinks, her laughter infectious as she teased Sero about how much he had bet on the race. “I can’t believe you actually put down that much money! What were you thinking?”

“Thinking I’d make bank, obviously!” Sero shot back, raising his bottle. “And look at me now! I’m basically a millionaire!”

Everyone burst out into laughter, but the one that caught your ears was definitely Emiko’s. It was soft and melodical.

As the conversation flowed, you felt a pang of jealousy in your chest as Emiko leaned closer to your Katsuki, her smile wide and tipsy. “So, Katsuki, do you ever get nervous before a race? You always look so confident.” Since when was she on a first name basis with him?

Her words were like gasoline to your spark of jealousy, creating a full blown fire. Emiko leaning closer to your Katsuki, all smiles and admiration—it grated on you. Since when had she gotten so comfortable with him? The way she casually dropped his first name, like they’d been friends for years, made your blood boil.

Katsuki, for his part, was being way too nonchalant about it. “Nah, just focus on the road. You either win or you don’t. Simple as that,” he shrugged, his response as laid-back as ever, but it didn’t seem to matter to Emiko.

She giggled—actually giggled—like he’d just said the most profound thing in the world. “Wow, that’s so cool! I wish I could be that calm,” she gushed, her admiration spilling over. “I get nervous just doing karaoke!”

The group laughed, but it only made the irritation rising in your chest grow stronger. Why was she trying so hard? And why was she being so obvious about it?

“Yeah, well, just gotta have the right mindset,” Katsuki said, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. The same smirk he gave you when he was showing off, when he wanted to impress you. Except now, he was giving it to her.

That was the last straw.

You pushed his hand away from where it rested on your waist, his eyes narrowing in confusion, but you didn’t care. "I’m going to the bathroom," you announced, your voice sharp enough to make everyone pause for a second. Without waiting for a response, you turned and made your way through the crowd, Jirou silently standing up to follow you.

The second you were in the bathroom, you let out a long, exasperated groan. “She’s getting on my nerves.”

Jirou, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed, eyed you through the reflection in the mirror. “You’re being too hard on her,” she said, finally breaking her silence. “She’s a sweet kid.”

You turned to her, your face scrunching in disbelief. “A sweet kid? You’re kidding, right?” You pulled out your mascara, trying to focus on touching up your makeup. “So I’m the only one who’s getting a bad rap from her?”

Before Jirou could respond, a knock echoed from the other side of the door.

“Uh, y/n? You in there?”

Turning around, you gave Jirou a pointed look as if to say, ‘are you serious right now?’, to which she shrugged and opened the door. “Yeah, we’re in here… Emiko.”

Emiko stepped in, blowing out a breath and fixing her bangs. “Oh good, I thought for a second you wouldn’t have left Katsuki alone.” She stood beside you, puckering her lips at the mirror and giving herself a once-over.

Who does this bitch thinks she is?

“Excuse me?” you turn to her in disbelief. There was no way she just said that.

Emiko smiled at you, a little too sweetly. “Hm?” she cocked a brow, that clearly wasn’t innocent. You scoffed inwardly, figuring out her intentions within a flash.

“What? Don’t tell me you actually think he’s interested in you. You should’ve seen the way he looks at me. It’s cute, really. Seeing that he gave me all his attention.” She rambles, not knowing how ridiculous she sounded.

Your hands clenched into fists and your mouth parted slightly, about to give her the cussing of the century for vexing you…

“Leave her be, y/n.” Jirou tugs on your hand, holding it behind your back. If there’s one thing she knew about you, it’s that you can hold your own in a fight. And as much as she would love to see you kick ass tonight, she knows that neither of you were in the right mindset.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and walked away.

The loud clang of the bathroom door was enough warning to Jirou that you wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep. So, she did what any bestie would do and took off right behind you.

You hastily grabbed your sweater and purse, checking inside to make sure your phone was still there.

Katsuki stood up after he made two attempts to attract your attention with no avail. He jogged over to you, holding your wrist gently. “Oi. ’s the matter?”

“Nothing, I’m fine. I’m heading home for tonight… I’m tired.” You mumbled the last part, but he still caught on. You tugged your wrist away from his warm hand, immediately regretting it but too prideful to hold it back.

“Kay, I’ll drop ya home.” He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, searching his pockets for the keys to his Bugatti Chiron. You hold your hand up, “It’s fine. Kyoka is called an uber. We’re walking up to the intersection to meet him there in,” you look at your watch “…five minutes.”

“’S late, lemme walk you at least.” He persists, giving you that boyish grin that makes you weak in the knees. Against your better judgement, you nod, and he secretly does a fist pump.

Upon reaching the gates, you catch sight of Kyoka and Kaminari, hugging tightly. “Ready?” she asks, catching sight of you. “Whenever you are.” You smile as she entangles your hand with hers and leads the way to the intersection, the two guys trailing behind you.

Katsuki and Kaminari walk a few steps behind you and Kyoka, their presence providing an aura of protection and comfort as their eyes scan the street, making sure no creep comes too close. Kyoka has the bright idea to whip out her phone and snap a quick picture of the four of you walking together. She leans over to show you, her eyes gleaming in the dim light.

You chuckle. “Tag me when you post it on your Insta. Looks like we have scary dog privileges.”

“Hey, that’s a good caption!” she beams, typing away.

The Uber pulls up to the curb not long after, and Kyoka turns to Kaminari without hesitation. She grabs his hand and pulls him in for a kiss, her fingers tangling in his hair. It's soft, slow, and so effortless, and for a moment, the world seems to pause around them. Kaminari looks genuinely content, his arms wrapping around her waist as he reciprocates. They look like the perfect couple out of a fairytale, and that makes you happy for your bestfriend.

But… you feel a pang in your chest, glancing away as their moment stretches on. Katsuki watches them too, his eyes flicking to you after a second. He doesn't say anything, but you can see it—he’s waiting, hoping for you to do the same.

Instead of kissing him, you step forward and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest. He tenses for a split second before pulling you closer, his hands coming to rest on your back, holding you tight. It's not what he was expecting, and you know it. "Good night, Katsuki," you whisper, the words barely loud enough for him to hear before you step back.

He looks down at you, confused, his brows furrowing slightly. You can tell he's not sure what just happened, but he doesn’t push it. “Message me when you get home,” he says, his voice low and gruff, though there’s a hint of something else there too. You nod, offering a small smile before turning away.

As Kyoka and you slide into the back seat of the Uber, you glance out the window one last time. Katsuki’s still standing there, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his eyes trained on you, even as the car slowly moves away.

Kyoka nudges you, with a smile. “You know you’re driving him nuts, right?”

You let out a soft sigh, leaning your head back against the seat. “Yeah… I know.”

Taglist:

@yoyolovesdaiki @gabz38 @tojiswifereal @fleouris @lovra974 @anjodedesgostoeerros

129 notes · View notes

diazsdimples · 7 months ago

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

222 notes · View notes

gejo333 · 1 year ago

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.”

____________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!💕💕💕

Comment below if you liked to be tagged!

Tag List

@felixthemochicat

@pedr0swh0r3

@thel0velykey190

@myownsimp

@angel-xx-1

@thedevax

@cheezit-luv3rr

@comicalbliss

@rjreins

@incustellar

@ricekrisbris

@marvelofcourse

@ozzmodeus-main

@s0fia4

@ghost-lantern

@minalovesubabes

@yume904

@shinyberry69

@freehentai

@livytofine

@rjasmin2021

@bigbassbug

@tired-writer04

@brokvnszn

@isastarall

@eddiestitmiguelsbigdick

@cold-blooded-girls

@ewan-tef

————————————————————————

I also want to say thank you so much for the 400 follows!💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

It makes my day!🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel x reader #oneshot #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel x fem!reader

640 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 28 days ago

Text

Bound Tight - Kinktober 30

Summary: You're in trouble...

Pairing: Mobster!Guy March-Philips x fem!Reader x Mobster!Anders Lassen

Warnings: mafia au, restraints/being restrained, scared reader, I’ll label this one dub-con, implied future smut/threesome, I’m a tease…

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2024

Privacy is essential to your boss. You should’ve known better than to walk into the office on his boat without knocking. A phone call distracted you, and you forgot to knock before you entered the room.

Gus, your boss, was in the middle of a conversation with his bodyguard. Anders, the guy you only call giant in secret, pushed his cute glasses back up as his eyes landed on you.

He sucked in a breath as your eyes drifted toward the huge money stack on Gus’s desk. Your eyes widened because you never saw so much money in your life. Gus couldn't have so much money. You’re his bookkeeper and know how much money he makes with his business.

“Anders, would you excuse?" Gus’s features darkened as his eyes drifted toward you as you stood in the room, his cup of coffee, and the latest numbers in your hands. “Someone’s being sneaky, my friend. I think I should have a serious conversation with my bookkeeper now.”

Gus leaned back in his chair, making it creak under his weight. Your boss enjoyed the fear flashing over your face. He dipped his head and hummed as your hands began to tremble.

Anders nodded at your boss, turning to leave the office. He brushed past you, sniffing at your hair as he passed you.

“Wait—” Gus snapped his fingers at Anders. “I need your assistance. You’re very skilled when it comes to punishment.” Your boss slowly got up; like a lion ready to pounce on his prey, he kept an eye on your trembling form. “And ropes.”

You whimpered, expecting the worst. For a few weeks, you had the feeling that something else than selling expensive boats was going on in your company.

“You've been a bad girl,” Gus purred as he stalked toward you. He took the cup out of your hands and threw the manila folder over his shoulder. He was dwarfing you with his size, making you whimper as he encouraged Anders to step behind you. The giant placed his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N, you should know that bad girls need to be punished." Anders’s rough voice sent a shiver down your spine. “I’d love to try my new ropes on you, sugar plum.”

Curly hair...curly hair... You focussed on Gus’s dark curls as he cupped your face with one big hand. Staring up at him like the lamb you were between these wolves, you trembled even harder.

What if your boss was not an eccentric boat builder? What if your presumptions were right, and he was a criminal, hiding things from you?

Gus darted his tongue out. He looked down at you, eyes roaming your body hungrily. You whimpered again, this time for a different reason. “What do you say, Anders? Do you want to test your ropes on her?”

They talked about you as if you weren’t even there. You were just a toy for them to play with after you made the mistake of walking in on them.

“Hmm…yeah. I always imagine how cute she’d look with a rope wrapped around her ripe body,” Anders purred in your ear, tickling your skin with his breath. “I’ll make her my masterpiece.”

Firm hands gripped your upper arms as Gus’s hand remained on your face. He hummed, eyes glued to your parted lips. “I think she’ll look pretty old tied up on my desk. What do you think?”

Bare. Exposed. Vulnerable. You’ve never felt so small before.

Anders, true to his words, got his ropes to dangle them in your face. He laughed when you pulled away and tried to hide behind your boss.

Gus didn’t show mercy either. He got a knife out, cutting off your clothes, leaving you in nothing but your birth suit. Your boss pushed everything off his desk, even the money to lift you on it.

You squirmed under his gaze, not daring to breathe wrong when he told you to lie down. Feeling the cold maple wood against your heated skin made you shiver.

At first, it was just a little rope around your wrist, nothing more. Anders made quick work; eyes glued to your exposed body. You could see the hunger in his eyes.

Something soft brushed against your ankles; Gus was tying both feet to one of the legs of the table, making sure they were firmly secured. Your left hand was being tied up to another leg.

You were at their mercy now.

“So pretty and soft,” Gus murmured. He ran his fingertips over one breast, pinching your nipple. “I dreamed of having you like this.”

You watched them circle you like prey, featherlight touches making goosebumps erupt all over your skin, never getting even close to your cunt.

“Please,” you whimpered as Gus stepped between your spread legs. He stared down at your slicked cunt, biting his index finger, wetting it.

“Oh, sweetness,” he purred your name and nodded at Anders. “We are going to ruin you once and for all.”

#gus march phillips #anders lassen #gus march phillips x fem!reader x anders lassen #Bound Tight - Kinktober 30 #kinktober vs flufftober 2024 #the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare

78 notes · View notes

maracujatangerine · 26 days ago

Text

85. Chunk of clay

CW: NSFW, violence, forced nudity, forced medication, institutionalised slavery, dehumanisation, box boy universe, pet whump

The hash glare from the overhead lights glinted off the tabletop. The young man stretched out on the metal surface was completely naked. His golden-toned skin pricking with goosebumps. His every muscle taut with fear and anticipation.

The two handlers with him, the man and the woman, were both fully clothed.

The woman, dark-haired and brown-eyed, just completed her slow circle around the table.

“Give me your hand.”

Her tone was quiet and very calm. When the man on the table tremulously reached out to her, she took a roll of thin, dark blue sewing thread from her pocket. She methodically wrapped the end of the thread around the leg of the table and then looped it around his wrist so that his hand, palm upward, was tied to the table. A red and white tattoo of chrysanthemum flowers circled his forearm, the beautiful imagery at odds with the clinical surroundings.

“Now, your other hand.”

Slowly circling the table once more, clockwise this time, she tied his other wrist. The WRU barcode tattoo clearly visible. Then she carefully tied down his ankles. It was as if he was bound to the table with gossamer strands.

If the young man had but twitched, the thread would instantly have broken.

She took a step back, surveying her handiwork with an air of satisfaction.

“That’s good.” She smiled. “You are doing good.”

She brushed her hand across the dark, curly hair covering his chest, gently, as if petting a cat. Then, she moved her hand down his chest in a languid caress, following the string of hair down along his rib cage, pausing to stroke her hand a few times over his flat stomach. Then, decisively, she moved further down.

The young man jerked involuntarily, his muscles trembling with the effort of keeping himself completely immobile.

She just rested her gloved hand there, between his legs. Her skin warm beneath the thin, black rubber of the glove.

He is hardly breathing. Rolling his eyes to watch her without turning his head. Fear written in every line of his face and body.

“Now,” she said, “I know you haven’t been trained for this. But, what if I wanted to have you? Or… what if my colleague here did? What would you do?”

The young man’s bottom lip shivered, his eyes glassy with tears. He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“I… I w-would do my best, Trainer Álvarez.”

”That’s good.” She nodded. “What if I asked you to break the thread that I used to tie you to the table, would you be able to do it?”

The young man blinked, clearly surprised.

“Yes, Trainer Álvarez.”

“And what if I - or your future owner - would tell you that this is a magic thread, totally impossible for you to get out of. Would you be able to break it then?”

“Eh…” He looked at her, bewildered. “…no?”

“That’s right. I’m telling you that this is a magical, unbreakable thread. What is the rule? The owner…”

The pet on the table relaxed visibly. This was home ground.

“The owner is always right, Trainer Álvarez.”

“That’s right. Good boy.” Letting go, she instead reached out and cupped his cheek affectionately. The young man eagerly leaned his head to press into her touch.

With her free hand, she fished something out from her trouser pocket, holding it up for the man on the table. His dark eyes instantly fixed on the small, white pill, tension returning to the set of his jaw.

“It’s time for you to take your medicine.” She said, deceptively gently. “Now, open up, but don’t swallow yet.”

He instantly opened his mouth, dark eyes wide with fear. It was clear that resisting was not an option he even considered. He held the pill on his tongue, while she turned and took a few steps to the sink in the corner of the room. She filled a glass of water and returned to the table.

“Now you can swallow.” She said, carefully cradling his head and raising the glass of water to his lips. It was an uncomfortable position, spread-eagled like that, but her raising his head helped and he quickly swallowed the pill with the water. Afterwards, she gently lowered his head to the table.

“I want you to lay here and just relax for a while. Unbreakable thread, remember?”

The fear was back with full force in his eyes, but he nodded immediately.

“Yes, trainer.”

The trainers fill their WRU-branded mugs from the coffee machine, a double espresso for her, an Americano for him, and watch the naked young man shivering on the table from behind the sound-isolated two-way mirror.

“I always like to teach them all the ways to take their medicine.” She explains. “Pills, liquids, eye drops, through their nose, up their bum… you get the drill. They should be fine with all of it. You never know what an owner will need or enjoy. It is also important to train in different situations, you want them to be absolutely rock solid in their ability to obey.”

“What about injections?”

She nods.

“Of course. Well. Not for this one at the moment. This is a trust-building exercise, not punishment. We want him to learn the lesson that good dogs get rewarded… sometimes.”

She smiles again, this time with an edge, like a hidden knife glinting in the dark.

“Just give him that hope for ‘sometimes’. He is going to chase that high so hard. There’s no limit to what he will do.” She pauses. “Anyway. Needles, he has a bad time with those. That is something we’ll have to deal with, but this is just an exercise reinforcing focus and obedience. There’s no need for torture.”

The man nods respectfully.

“What drug dig you give him?” He asks.

“It’s just a mild painkiller. Punishment pills should be reserved for special occasions only.” She takes a sip of her espresso. “They need to know that the pain is a possibility, but there’s no…” Her explanation is interrupted by the door opening.

“Hey.” The large man in a black handler uniform rolls his shoulders and stretches before stepping up to the coffee machine.

“Harris.” Trainer Álvarez nods in curt greeting.

He chooses an Americano and glances idly out the two-way mirror while waiting for the machine to finish his drink.

”I see you’re still playing your little sewing games, Gabriela. How’s that coming along for you?”

“It’s going great. Thanks, Harris.” Her tone is carefully neutral.

“Mhm… Well, I guess…” He turns and nods to the younger man. “Don’t worry, Jason. Next rotation you’ll be shadowing me, and I’m not afraid to show you the ropes of the real, hard work.”

He grabs his coffee and walks towards the door. “Later, guys.”

As soon as the heavy door falls closed behind him, trainer Álvarez scoffs.

“Jesus, he’s such a prick at all times. I’m sorry you’ll be stuck with him.”

She turns full on to face the younger man.

“Listen, Jason. You are going to meet a lot of guys like Harris here. They talk a lot and they think they are so great at their work, but actually they’re just getting off on their own fantasies of violence and domination. But really….”

She pauses and shakes her index finger back and forth in a ‘no’ gesture.

“They have no finesse. You need a light touch with this job, you might not think it, but it is true.

If you like to just break someone, his methods are just fine, but that… I think that is not enough. We should aim to create works of art.”

She gestures out at the bound man behind the glass.

“I like to send them out to love their master. Not just fear them. Jason, do you know what a golem is?”

“Ma’am?” Confusion is written all over the younger man’s face. Gabriela smiles.

“In Jewish mythology, a golem is a figure created by clay or mud. It can do tasks, but it is mindless, without a soul. That is what Harris and his ilk does. He makes the pets into empty husks. They obey, all right. But no one is home.”

She shakes her head slowly, eyes shining.

“I want to make them beautiful. When I am finished with them, they will obey, yes, but more than that, they will feel and love and desire. I don’t trample all over their hearts. I cultivate them, strictly, but carefully. It is like trimming a fruit tree, or cutting a hedge. There is violence, yes, but also gentleness. In the end, with all their being, they don’t only fear, but they yearn to please their master.”

She walks over and puts her empty mug in the dishwasher.

“Come on, it’s time. Let’s go shape our chunk of clay.”

This post has really been a long time in the making. I have had several people asking about Brutus. (Thanks for the asks! ❤️) I hope you’ll enjoy this glimpse into his past.

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards-blog @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

#pet whump #bbu #WRU #box boy multiverse #box boy universe #box boy whump #pet whumpee #whump fic #lydia and coriander #writeblr #writers on tumblr #original writing

58 notes · View notes

musicforastylesrestaurant · 11 months ago

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."

386 notes · View notes

vanteguccir · 10 months ago

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.

384 notes · View notes

tkwrites · 10 months ago

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

202 notes · View notes