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captain-huggy-bear · 5 days ago

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The Teacher's Always Right

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Your students badger you about your relationship status and you let slip you're dating a hockey player who plays for the Vancouver Canucks. They don't believe you, you're petty enough to arrange a school trip to Rogers Arena just to prove your point.

Notes: Very self-indulgent of me as someone who teaches teenagers for a living and regularly gets questioned on my relationship status. They really do bully you (affectionately).

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

You're in the middle of teaching your high schoolers about the fur trade in colonial Canada, mid-speech, arms spread wide as you gesture to your powerpoint when a teenage voice interrupts you.

"Miss, are you married?" It's David, sat at the back, legs stretched out as far as he can reach them. He's ironically enough wearing a Canucks jersey, specifically Number 43...a very, very familiar number to you. As is the question. In your years of teaching this isn't the first time you've been interrupted to be questioned on your relationship status, in fact it happens multiple times a year. Each set of students eager to know why you're a miss and if you'll be a mrs soon and are going to be leaving them to have a baby. When you were single, the questions were usually why?

"No." You've gotten rather good at deflecting or at least not letting slip the reality of your relationship, usually finding out you're not single is enough for them, but there's something about David's attitude that screams persistant curiosity. It makes you wonder why you bother teaching your subject at all when he's more curious about your love life than History itself

"Do you have boyfriend?"

"Yes, does this have anything to do with British colonisation or the fur trade or....?" You lean back on your desk, board pen landing gently on the surface, knowing that you're not going to be free of this conversation for at least another 2 minutes.

"What's your boyfriend do?" You breathe a deep sigh and look around the room, you don't want to get into who your boyfriend is. It's not like its a well known fact that you're dating the captain of the Vancouver Canucks and you try to keep it that way. Not because you're ashamed but because its your private life, school and home, those are as separate as you can make them. It would be impossible to do that if everyone was talking about your relationship, although you know eventually it'll become more public.

Stacy from one of the desk by the windows chimes in this time, curiosity peaked, dragging her away from her current hobby of staring out the window in boredom, "C'mon, miss, it can't be that bad? What? Is he like unemployed or something?" She says while chewing loudly on a wad of gum.

"Gum in the bin, Stacy." Her chewing stops and she slumps as she stomps her way to your classroom bin, spitting the gum in with a roll of her eyes.

"So? Is he unemployed?" You decide to answer the question, only because Stacy actually did what you said this time. You hated gum in the classroom, mostly because it always ended up on the bottom of your shoes and made them stick to the floor as you walked. You wouldn't mind it so much if they could all just throw it away normally.

"No. He's got a job, a good job." A really good job, a ridiculously good job actually. You didn't talk money with Quinn much, but the reality was that he made an amount in a year that you would never make in a life time as a teacher.

"Sooo???" David interjects, leaning forward now in his seat, clearly not happy enough to just know your boyfriend isn't some unemployed bum.

"He's a hockey player."

"Like beer league?"

"No. Like NHL." You watch your classes faces in what feels like slow motion, the series of disbelieving looks, wide eyes and raised eyebrows that are quickly followed by a chorus of objections and claims that you can't be telling the truth.

"Nah, no way! You're not here, teaching us, and dating a guy who makes millions, nah." It's actually frustrating, it shouldn't be. You've literally had students throw tables at you and yet, the idea that they think you are a liar is what makes you frustrated. Is it really that hard to believe that you enjoy your job and don't want to scrounge off of your pro-athlete boyfriend? Or that hard to believe that you managed to snag a pro-athlete in the first place?

"You don't believe me?"

"Nah, like if you are, he's gotta be in some really bad team in the US." You're already formulating a plan to prove to your students that you're not lying and not dating a shit NHL player. Sure, the plan involves a lot more work for you, but the idea is in your head and you can't help but think that it'll be worth it.

"He's a Canuck." You smirk a little, knowing the mention of the local team would get a response. Most of the kids you teach go to at least one game a year or watch it on TV. Some have even seen you at the games, but you always sit in the stands like a regular fan. Mostly because Quinn can't really talk to you anyway when he's locked into a game. You'd serve as more of a distraction if you sat front and centre every game.

"No, no way!" David stands, slamming his hands on his desk, "You're lying!" Half the class echo his claims that you must be lying and it makes you even more determined to prove them wrong. Do you really need to prove to a bunch of teenagers that you're dating an NHL player? No, do you want to? Absolutely.

"Fine, don't believe me, but i'm not lying. I'm dating a Vancouver Canuck."

It takes a little to get them all back on track with the lesson but you manage it. Although you're just as distracted. The moment the bell goes to signal lunch break and your classroom empties, you're on your phone calling your boyfriend, even though you know he's probably in the middle of practice.

He answers on the second ring, the sound of the rink in the background loud and clear as pucks hit the sideboards and skates scratch up the ice.

"Hey, baby, everything okay?" It's unusual for you to call him in the work day and you can hear the worry in his voice, even if he'll pretend he's not worried at seeing your name pop up when you should be working.

"Hey, I'm fine, don't worry...but...you know how you love me?" You fiddle with a little wooden bear that sits on your desk. Quinn bought you it after finding out your favourite animals were any type of bear, it's left ear is broken off and it's got a little bit of red paint where it fell on a floor one time, but you love it anyway.

"Uh huh?" The worry in his voice gives out to amusement at realising you're after something. On his end Quinn is stood at the bench watching the guys run drills, Tocc giving him a look as if to say 'hurry up'.

"And you know how you want to always make me happy?" He smiles at the faux innocent voice you put on, as if he'd deny you anything.

"What do you need me to do, baby?" There's zero hesitation, typical Quinn really, if you want something you've got it, if you need him to do something he's agreeing before all the terms are laid out. He's lucky you don't abuse that sort of power really, he'd spoil you completely if you let him.

"I need you to help me organise a school trip to see you guys practice and meet you all, so that I can prove to my students that I am actually dating an NHL player because they're calling me a liar and I will not be called a liar by teenagers who gaslight me all the time!" The faux innocent voice gives way to your rapid ramble, annoyance riding your tone as you pace across the front of your classroom.

You're greeted firstly by his loud and genuine laugh, so loud that it makes you pull the phone away from your ear. It takes a solid minute for Quinn to stop laughing, and he can see the looks he's getting from the ice, Brock throws him a questioning eyebrow raise, Petey perks his head up at the sound of his captain actually laughing that hard.

It's the dead silence on your end that makes him stop, "Wait, are you serious?"

"Yes! They're telling me i'm lying and I will not be called a liar!"

"Okay, so let me get this straight." He runs a hand through his hair, before leaning against the side of the bench, "Your students don't believe you're dating a canuck, so you need me to help you organise a school trip-"

"For free!" You interrupt, knowing you won't get permission for a trip that costs the school anything more than a few buses and fuel costs, school funding being what it is.

"For free, to prove that you're dating me?" There are easier ways, Quinn thinks, to prove this. Like, him posting a picture of you together on the internet or him kissing you in front of the arena at a game, but it's kind of cute how much you're affronted by your students calling you a liar. It also sounds way more fun.

"Yup, is that...is that too much to ask? I'm being silly aren't I?" He hears it in your tone, the way you seem to start second guessing yourself, can hear you tapping a fingernail against your desk, probably messing with the little bear figurine he got you all those years ago.

"A little silly, but for you? I think I can pull some strings, honey."

You know Quinn will say yes to most things you ask, but you hadn't actually expected him to agree this time. It had felt too big, too much. Your normal requests were small, something like asking if he could get you a doughnut on his way home or could he put the dishes in the dishwasher.

"You serious?"

"Yeah, i'm serious." It takes a beat before your almost squealing in delight down the phone at him, the realisation that he's actually saying yes hitting and he can't help but laugh even as he pulls the phone away from his ear.

"I love you! Have I told you that today?" Your voice is sweet and happy, brighter than it was before. It makes him want to always say yes to you, the way you light up like a christmas tree.

"Mmm, not since 6am this morning."

"Well, I love you and you are the absolute best boyfriend I've ever had and I will never take you for granted."

He can see Tocc motioning him over, telling him without words that its time for the call to end and get back to being captain. Part of him just wants to keep talking with you, rare as it is to get to do during a working day, but he has responsibilities just like you do.

"I have to go, baby, I have practice...but we'll talk about this later, okay?"

He knows his evening is going to be spent planning out what you want this trip to look like before he goes away and tries to make it happen, but he doesn't mind. Anything to make his baby happy. Even if that is trying to prove a bunch of teenagers wrong.

Between the two of you it takes about 2 months to organise the trip. A lot of that time simply spent getting risk assessments done, approval from your administration sorted and organising parental consent. It also takes you getting the sports teacher on side because it was becoming difficult to find a justification as a History teacher for why you wanted to take kids to meet some hockey players. By the time you've organised it, most of your students have forgotten your claims. You have not forgotten their belief that you are a liar, however.

"I can't believe you managed to get us a trip to Rogers Arena! To meet the Canucks! Best teacher ever!" The hockey boys in your class are especially stoked, many of them playing in junior teams and following the Canucks closely as their team of choice. David is no exception to that rule, arriving to the school bus in so many bits of Vancouver merchandise that you're unsure how he's managing to walk weighed down as he is.

"I told you, my boyfriend plays for them." You remind him, ticking him off the register of kids and ushering him up into the bus.

"Miss, we all know that's not true." He turns to you just as he's about to dispear to find his seat. The scepticism written all over his face.

It makes you shake your head, waiting for the moment the puck drops.

The entire ride to the stadium features your students making fun of you for saying your boyfriend was a canuck, you let it slide simply because you're looking forward to seeing them eat their words. They think its funny right now, but you know you're getting the last and final laugh.

You're met at the entrance by, surprisingly, Tocc, who greets you with a warm hug, "Hey, how you doing?"

"I'm good, thank you for having us, Tocc." You like Tocc, he's a good coach and you like that he cares about how the guys are as people not just how they perform. You also can see how much Quinn appreciates him as coach, so you have a soft spot for the scary looking guy.

"No problem," You can feel the weight of 50 eyes on you, all varying shades of disbelief as they realise you seem a little too familiar when interacting with the Head Coach and its only the beginning. You can't help but smile simply because they're starting to realise that maybe they fucked up. Maybe their doubt was misplaced, maybe you actually were telling the truth all along.

"Are Quinn and the guys on the rink or in the locker room?"

"Rink, easier to fit all the kids, but we've got to get them booted up first." The famililarity with which you refer to Quinn and the guys, does not go past David and Stacy both of whom share a look that screams 'don't tell me that she actually knows them...'.

It takes a bit of time to get all 50 kids in skates, although at least 20 of them bring their own, as do you. You're not much of a skater, but dating Quinn meant you couldn't avoid him buying you a decent pair for family skate and the few times he manages to drag you on the ice each year.

You're about to put your own on when Quinn makes his way over to you clearly having just come off the ice, guards on his skates and hair messy from his helmet. He waves briefly at some of the kids before reaching you, taking your skates in hand without hesitation.

"Y'know I can do it myself, right?"

"When have I ever let you do your own skates? Besides, I thought you wanted the last laugh?" He nods his head in the direction of your students who stand gaping at the Captain of the Vancouver Canucks putting your foot in a skate and putting said skate between his thighs to help him tighten the laces with care. Not something one does for a strange teacher they don't know.

"I'm really enjoying myself already. The whole ride they were giving me all sorts of hell about it, and now I can see their little brains working hard to figure out if I was actually telling the truth or not."

You watch Quinn work, finishing tying off your first skate before reaching for the other, his hands are sure on your calf as he slips your foot into it. "The guys are looking forward to it, think this might be their favourite practice of the year. You might be their favourite WAG now."

"All I had to do was bring a bunch of teenagers to the rink to get them to love me?" Quinn stops mid lace pull, smirk firmly in place as he looks at you from underneath his eyelashes.

"Y'know they loved you already, right? Pretty sure Petey is your number one fan."

"That's because I bribe him with sweets." Specifically his favourite sour candy which makes his eyes water. The more sour the better.

Quinn huffs out a laugh, tying off your laces before patting your foot and setting it back on the ground. His hands reach out to help you to your feet and linger on yours a little longer than is strictly necessary.

"You ready for this?"

"Can't back out now, so I guess I have to be." There's a slight bubbling of nerves under your skin, the sense that your students might not think this is cool and instead think that you're undeserving of your relationship, but you shrug it off. After all, they're kids, their opinion on your relationship is genuinely not important.

"See you on the rink?"

"See you there." You watch him walk away and try to ignore the buzz of chatter you can hear from students, commenting on the fact that Quinn did your skates for you.

You get them registered, orderly and help them file onto the rink, the less sure of the bunch buddied up with someone who had more experience skating to avoid 50 kids bowling each other over on the ice. You did not want to deal with a pile of kids flat on the ice after knocking each other over, the paper work would be ridiculous.

You stand back and just watch. The clear awe on their faces as they step out onto the ice, the large rink impressive any day let alone for kids who had never stepped foot on a rink that size. It makes you smile, knowing you're contributing to their memories, providing something great even if it all started out of petty spite. Even if they don't believe you, you feel good knowing they're getting to enjoy this experience.

You skate nearer to the front, Brock and Petey giving you a bright smile and wave, a variety of nods of recognition from the others. Little things that once again tell your students you know these men better than they expected you to.

"Hey, guys. Welcome to Rogers Arena, it's great to have you here," Quinn starts the introduction, smoothly sliding forward on his skates and gesturing to the line of players as he proceeds to introduce each them by name and position, before finally getting to himself, "And i'm Quinn Hughes, Captain of the team,"

"And Norris trophy winner" You chime in, arms crossed as you watch your boyfriend do what he's best at. He's good with fans especially kids, even if he's terrible with the after game reporters.

He turns to you with a bright grin, "Hi, baby," You can see the twinkle in his eye as he drops the petname, you know he does it on purpose to get the reaction that he does from your students as a wave of muttering and murmuring goes through the little crowd.

"Hi, honey, thanks for having us." You throw it right back, more sickly sweet than you'd usually be, playing up to your little audience who practically gasp.

"Anything for my girl."

"No fucking way!" "What the hell?!" You watch each face drop, mouths open, eyes wide. Watch David as he swears loudly face aghast, almost horrified at the realisation that he might have been making fun of Quinn Hughes' girlfriend the entire time he'd been calling his teacher a liar.

"Language, David!" You tell him off even as you smirk, watching the murmurs die off as Quinn and Boeser talk the kids through skating techniques and how best to shoot the puck, the different techniques and ways to hit the puck with the stick. Half of it makes little sense to you but its nice to watch how the kids get engaged, how Quinn takes over a leadership and teaching role.

You mostly take a step back throughout, watching your students learn from Quinn and the guys, but every now and then Quinn finds you under the pretense of fixing your stance or giving you a tip or piece of advice.

Like now, as his hands reach out, fixing how you hold the hockey stick, foot kicking yours just slightly further apart to adjust your stance.

"So, think they believe you now?" You look over at your students, the joy they're having learning hockey from some of the best, but also at the looks they keep sending your way. You're certain they've learnt their lesson, the teacher is always right, at least when it comes to her own love life.

"I think I am offically the coolest teacher in school, so thanks for that." You reach up and kiss Quinn on the cheek, quick and chaste, nothing inappropriate considering you're both at work and surrounded by kids, but it's enough to make his cheeks flush red.

He rubs the back of his neck with that boyish smile of his and it makes you want to kiss him all over again, "Well, I couldn't have a bunch of teenagers calling my girlfriend a liar."

You're so stuck in the moment with him that you don't notice David and his friends until they're upon you and calling out to Quinn. The picture of respect when talking to who might just be their new favourite NHL star.

"Hey, Mr Hughes?" Conveniently half the kids surrounding you are the ones who claimed you must have been dating some beer league level player or some guy from the Chicago Blackhawks.

"You can call me Quinn, Mr Hughes is my dad. What's up, dude?"

"So when are we going to be calling teach Mrs Hughes?" It's your turn to flush, face warming harshly as Quinn's practically asked when he's proposing to you by a spotty 15 year old.

"David!" You might never be able to call your future child David at this rate, far too familiar with calling the name in admonishment. Definitely no David's in your future. Add that name to the list of names you can't use.

David looks at you with a wide grin, braces on full display. "What? I'm tryin' a help you get that bank!" It's actually mortifying, you thank your lucky stars that Quinn knows you're not actually after his money because if a 15 year old were to ruin your relationship you might actually become a super villain.

"I do not need a 15 year old wingman!"

"Baby, it's alright." Quinn wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side as if that will sooth the embarrassment of having a 15 year old try to help you get a rich husband, "Uh, to answer your question, it won't be too long now, bud."

"So, like 6 months? A year? Next week?"

"Oh my god..." You turn your face into Quinn's shoulder, your groan muffled by his jersey. You're certain you might actually pass away from embarrassment, even if deep down there's a little thrill in your stomach that Quinn basically just said he's going to propose to you sooner rather than later.

"I gotta keep it a secret, sorry, man! Gotta keep Mrs Hughes on her toes." Your toes curl at the way he calls you Mrs Hughes, a small smile on your face hidden by his jersey.

A little back and forth is exchanged before David and his friends decide their bored and skate off towards Boeser who's going over the finer points of 'get to the net' and 'just shoot the puck'.

You mumble into Quinn's shoulder as his hands run up and down your back in soothing strokes, "Are you really ganging up on me with a bunch of teenagers?"

"Hey, I just told you that I want to marry you and you're mad at me?" He's not serious though, grinning as pushes you back to look at him. It's adorable, the pout on your face as you glare up at him for making fun of you. Although, you're always adorable to him, so maybe he's biased,

"Correction, you told a 15 year old that you wanted to marry me."

"Okay, okay, I see the problem." He shakes his head solemnly, hands on your shoulders as he lowers his voice just a touch, "Baby, just so you know I want to marry you."

"Okay."

"Okay?" You watch as he stands, mouth agape at your casual response. You're sure he was expecting you to giggle or squeal, but you're determined to mess with him a little.

"That's...nice to know?" You grin at him even as internally you're screaming because your boyfriend wants to marry you and you definitely want to marry him.

"You're such a fucking nerd."

"You're dating a teacher, that's like my whole thing. I'm a professional nerd."

"Yeah... it's cute. It's why I want to marry you."

"Quinn!" You shove him away with a laugh. Maybe your students won't be embarrassing you anymore, but you think you might have a lifetime of Quinn doing it instead. Somehow that doesn't seem like the worst idea.

#huggy bear writes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes/reader #nhl imagine

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missqhughes · 3 months ago

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ON THE RECORD | Q. HUGHES43

-> quinn hughes x fem!reader

-> contains: dom!quinn, unprotected pnv, m!oral receiving filming sex, physical fighting, bruises and blood, sexual acts and themes, exgf!reader x vince dunn

-> IN WHICH: it’s the first canucks vs. krakens game of the season; and for quinn, this time it’s personal. when y/n’s ex has some words to say about their relationship, he shows both of them exactly who she belongs to.

-> locked in to this fic so hard bc i haven’t written in forever, so i finished writing it in the shower BUT NOT LIKE THAT I PROMISE. also there’s 100% discrepancies in real game play vs in this but please bare with me for the plot. (hope you love it as much as i do!)

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

y/n was never nervous for a game.

but nothing could take away the ache she had leading up to this one.

it had been a while since her and quinn started dating, and he had it out for her ex since she told him all the horrible things he did to her; cheating, lying, hooking up with multiple women during the season, making a fool out of her publicly. however, she begged quinn not to start something; let bygones be bygones and leave it be, arguing how she left it all behind her. he agreed, knowing he didn’t want any bad press on himself; as captain and as someone the media knew wasn’t a fighter in the league.

y/n sat with her friend in the suite , fiddling with the sleeves of quinn’s jersey, eyes following where he was skating; he looked calm, focused, attentive to warm ups.

“dude, you need to calm down,” her friend laughed, noticing her obvious stress, “nothing is going to happen between them, i promise.”

y/n looked at her friend, “i know, i know. it’s just… quinn hates him. i know vince, and i know he can’t help himself from a fight. i’m just worried.”

“think quinn can’t handle himself?”

“no i know he can, i don’t want him risking getting hurt over something as stupid as a fight,” she retorted, gaze still fixed on the ice, “especially with vince.”

“i think you’re being dramatic,” her friend chuckled, taking a sip of her cold beer, “it’s just another game, no big deal.”

y/n sighed, shoulders relaxing a bit, allowing her friend’s reassurance to ease the tension in her body, “yeah, you’re right. just another game,” she said, cheering her cup with hers.

——————————————————————————

CANUCKS 3 - KRAKEN 2 / 3RD PERIOD

quinn was good at keeping his cool.

he had to, after all.

he ignored the glares from vince, his attempt at intimidation lingering through the entire game.

they didn’t come close in contact, until during a time out, quinn heard a voice call out at him,

“y/n here tonight? bet she came just for me,” vince chirped, a sinister, smug look on his face as he skated past him.

quinn stayed stone faced.

further into the final period of the game, he felt a body slam into his, nearly losing his balance and almost falling into the boards,

the whistle blew, and quinn was met yet again with vince’s hubristic stance,

“saw you’re with her now, how’s that goin for you? bet i come up a lot,”

vince spat, quinn skating closer to him, his temper beginning to spark in his body,

“get over it bud. she’s done with you.” quinn said calmly, the other players around the ice not aware of the situation brewing beside them.

“look hughes, you’re not special,”

with each word, the kraken gets closer and closer to quinn, puffing his chest and spewing hate, the hands in his gloves in the beginning of curling into fists,

“it was just you to get over me,”

quinn’s jaw tightened,

vince laughed bitterly, “she’s a slut, you tonight someone else tom-”

vince couldn’t even finish his sentence before quinn shoved him hard, both their gloves dropped as they fought, quinn bringing him down to the ice, delivering blow after blow to his face.

it all happened so fast, y/n heard the pounding on the glass, cheering on a fight, and feeling her stomach twist when she saw 43.

oh god.

none of the refs were able to get quinn off of him alone, his fists not stopping until they were bruised and bloody, matching the wounds on vince’s face.

quinn was panting with anger, face tinted crimson, a light bruise forming on his cheekbone where vince had landed a punch. he couldn’t feel the near splits in his knuckle, too riled with adrenaline to feel anything but rage.

——————————————————————————

fortunately enough, the canucks ended the game with a win, but that didn’t change how fired up y/n knew quinn was going to be when she saw him.

she was allowed to be in the locker room during post game interviews, and she watched nervously as interviewers swarmed and crowded quinn, bombarding him with questions.

he was asked about the fight, detail, if vince had said anything to set him off, the why as a captain, he would start something on the ice.

quinn’s expression remained nothing short of blank, refusing to answer any questions regarding it, pursing his lower lip, “nothing to say about that. keep it about hockey and that’s it.”

after post game reports had finished, y/n waited outside by the doors for quinn to come out.

she didn’t know how he was going to be when he came out, pacing with worry about what the media would twist this game in to.

y/n heard the heavy doors click open, quinn in a lazy rendition of his suit, walking over to her; the bruise on his cheek deeper in color than when she initially saw.

“hey baby,” she said softly, opening her arms for quinn to embrace without hesitation.

“hey,” he replied, tightening their hug before pulling away, “cmon, we need to go home.”

quinn didn’t give y/n a chance to respond when he hooked his hand into hers, leading her to his dark tinted car in the lot.

y/n slid into the passenger seat while quinn loaded his gear into the trunk, she looked out the window until the driver’s side door clicked shut.

she looked over at quinn, an unreadable look on his face; he said nothing, instead putting the car in drive to go back to their shared apartment.

the drive home was silent.

the only sound being the hum of the car engine and their steady breaths. quinn always had his hand on her leg when he drove, but this time his hand was a little higher, his grip a little tighter, all whilst he kept his gaze fixed on the road. y/n’s breath would hitch ever so slightly when his fingers kneaded into her skin.

——————————————————————————

quinn was still quiet even after getting home.

frustrated, y/n spoke out, “quinn, what did vince say to you?” she said with a sigh,

“shit about me. about you. us.” he mumbled, taking off his suit jacket and undoing the black tie he had on.

“so, that’s reason enough to give me the silent treatment all the way home? you’re acting like that was my fault,”

“i never said it was your fault.”

“you don’t have to! it doesn’t take a lot to know you’re upset,” she retorted,

“y/n,” quinn started, walking over to where she was standing, holding her by the neck when he kissed her roughly, biting her lip when she moaned lightly into his mouth.

he tapped the back y/n’s of legs, and she jumped hooking her legs around his waist without objection.

quinn waltzed them to the bedroom, their kiss nowhere close to cooling off. quinn lightly tossed her on the bed, lips peeling off hers to suck and bite on the exposed skin of her neck.

y/n groaned lightly, beginning to unbutton his collared shirt, when quinn pulled off of her, leaving y/n with furrowed brows.

“quinn, what’s wrong?” she said, propping herself up on her arms, looking up at her boyfriend, confused.

“wait here baby,” he said, leaving the room.

she nodded, and about 15 seconds had passed when quinn returned to the room, his phone in hand with the camera app already opened.

“you want to make a movie huh?” she said, beginning to peel off the jersey that housed quinn’s name.

“only for our number one fan. leave the jersey on,” he said, “but everything else, off. now.”

y/n nodded, slipping down her pants and thong, her pussy already aching with the desire quinn had filled in her.

quinn swiftly undid his belt with one hand, lowering his pants and boxers to leave his hard length exposed.

“c’mere, suck.”

y/n obliged, moving down to her knees to meet quinn at hip length, the phone flash shining brightly in her face when she took the tip of his dick and swirled it around her tongue.

quinn groaned, moving his free hand to pull y/n’s hair into a ponytail with his fist. his breath quickened, y/n taking all of him in, bobbing up and down; quinn’s hips matching her rhythm.

he had almost forgot he was recording her, but when her lashes fluttered up to perfectly view the camera whilst she sucked him, quinn knew he was close to cumming.

quinn groaned louder, fucking y/n’s face, her moans sending vibrations on his dick that pushed him to his release. he pulled out of her mouth right when he was about to cum, y/n sticking her tongue out to collect his release.

god he was loving this.

he stopped the video as she wiped the leftover release from her face, pulling her up for a sloppy hot kiss.

quinn pulled away, the two panting with puffy lips, “bed, ass up, baby. now.” he instructed, reopening his phone for the perfect view.

“yes captain,” y/n said, just ready for whatever quinn had in store for her, her wetness beginning to seep down and stick to her inner thighs, burning for him to touch her.

after hitting record, quinn wasted no time aligning himself with her, pumping in and out a few times before going fully in, his hips meeting her ass, eliciting moans from the two of them.

his pace was rapid and brutal, moving her hair away from her and back into his hands, revealing to the camera the “hughes” jersey she was wearing.

“fuck, quinn! mm, so good— my god, fuck,” y/n moaned, echoing with the sound of their skin slapping against one another, her noises music to quinn’s ears.

he continued to pound hard into her, y/n’s knuckles white from how hard she gripped into the sheets, feeling her stomach tighten, about to reach her high.

quinn felt her pussy tighten around him, knowing she was close, “gonna cum baby? go ahead, cum,” he husked, coming to his second of the night.

she screamed in pleasure, her cunt coating his dick, mixing with his as he filled her up with his release.

quinn pulled out of her slowly, giving time to show the camera a view of her dripping puffy pussy, ending the video with a hard smack on her ass.

y/n yelped, falling into the bed. quinn turned her around, gently kissing her in her dazed state.

“you okay baby?” he asked gently, caressing her face with his thumb,

“mhm, but i think you killed me. i’m exhausted,” she laughed, quinn smiling and bringing his lips down to peck hers, “sorry, want me to go start a shower for us?”

“you know me so well,”

quinn crawled off of her, grabbing his phone before slipping into the bathroom,

he opened instagram, typing in vince’s username into the search bar, itching as he opened their messages tab.

——————————————————————————

xoxo, kaia

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x reader #qh43 #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic #nhl fic #hughes brothers #quinn hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl #hockey

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bunny-jpeg · 20 days ago

Text

smoked out

fernando alonso & lance stroll

tags: smut/pwp, weed smoking/recreational drug use, threesome, age gap (25/26/43), montreal, cowgirl position, oral sex (fernando receiving), poor lance

a/n: this one goes out to the seven strollonso fans, i hope this is something! this has also made me really want to pick up a joint... also please remember to consume recreational drugs carefully! do not take something if you don't want to and make sure if you do you're with people you trust and will take care of you!! - this includes alcohol!

montreal, qc - january

the two of them knew it was wrong. any moment of any day there could be a drug test at their door. but it was the off-season, just after new years and you were more than happy to pick up a little big of grass for your boyfriend and his teammate.

except many thought that lance was your boyfriend and not the older and (no-so) wiser fernando. you were seated in front of the couch in front of the coffee table while you worked your magic under the careful gaze of your older lover.

"does this look good?" you looked over to fernando on the couch. he looked at the joint then at you. he rubbed the back of your head and you smiled up at him, "c'mon, speak to me, honey or else you're not getting any."

fernando replied, "oh, so you're going to give it all to lance?" he looked over at the other man on the loveseat, he had a beer in his hand and had been nursing it most of the evening. fernando turned back to you and leaned forward to be closer in your space. he kissed the top of your head and chuckled, "i think he'd die after one hit."

lance perked up and said, "i've smoked weed before!" his brown eyes wide at the accusation that he was new to this. it made you and fernando laugh. he felt his cheeks grow a little pink, "i mean... ya know, i have had it... once." that was a lie, it was a total lie. it was a party in high school and he pretended to smoke.

you snickered and looked up at fernando, "oh, we're gonna have so much fun with him tonight." and reached up to your lover with your free hand and gave him a pat on his cheek. you and fernando were seasoned, at the very least, fernando was a little more seasoned than you.

he told you all matters of stories from his early days in formula one. he chuckled once, "you think i had that facial hair while i was totally sober." and you on the other hand, were not an angel, despite fernando's nickname towards you. you went to cegep and then university. plus with the stuff now more legal than air, it wasn't hard to get your hands on it.

you eyed the joint before you got up and onto the couch. the rolling tray left behind on the table. you tucked yourself into fernando's shoulder and looked at him.

lance leaned forward in the loveseat and took a sip of his beer as he watched you light up. in the warm lighting of your apartment (where smoking was allowed) the canadian driver watched you take the first drag of the joint. you giggled a little as you exhaled the smoke into your lover's face. lance swallowed and admired you two.

you looked over to the other man while you handed fernando the joint and beckoned the other driver to come over, "oh my god, we're not gonna bite." and lance had never moved so quickly to his feet.

you were sandwiched between them as fernando had a smoke as casual as drinking win. he looked away from the two of you to exhale, he was polite. he took another drag before he handed it to lance.

lance took it nervously and you were much closer in his space. your arm draped around his shoulders as you giggled. you asked if he needed help and he nodded in response. your breasts pressed up against him as you coached him through a proper inhale.

"and don't hold it in your lungs, it doesn't make you anymore high. if anything it could burn them and cause more problems." then you made a pleased noise when he exhaled and coughed loudly.

lance wheezed and hit his chest as he coughed through the exhale. but you were right there, hand on his back. and then when he looked at you with glassy eyes, you only smiled and kissed him. fernando alonso's (problematically) younger girlfriend was kissing him. when lance opened his eyes to see fernando's response, the older man simply took the joint from him and laughed.

the other driver said, "be careful there, lancito. she can get a little handsy when she smokes." then took another drag, smirking around it.

you were still kissing lance once more. your hand slid up his dark t-shirt and you giggled against the kiss. soon you felt the weight of your lover up against your behind, with your front against his teammate. pressed between both men as you felt their erections up against you. the three of you kissed, smoked and felt up one another. with fernando even landing a long earned kiss on his teammates mouth.

you pulled away from a kiss with fernando and leaned back against lance. your throat felt dry and your head was full of marijuana high. but you didn't care, you loved the feeling of being between the two men. you chuckled as you asked, "i don't wanna mess up my couch. why don't we take this to bed?"

lance never thought he'd ever see you naked, not when you were stumbling over yourself as you dragged them both into the bedroom. your king sized bed (purchased by fernando) sat proudly up against the wall and before he could bat his eyes, you were struggling to get out of the slightly baggy aston martin shirt that you had been wearing. the visual of seeing you smoking a joint while wearing the teams t-shirt scratched an itch in lance's brain that he didn't think was there. didn't help that you were barely wearing anything underneath it. yoga shorts that basically showed your ass when you bent over.

before lance could go to the belt of his jeans, he looked at his teammate and fernando wasn't even looking at him. too engrossed in your state of undress. he caught lance looking at him and said, "you can sit and watch, or you can join. teammates share." then winked at the other man.

lance was often curious about the behind the scenes of formula one in earlier decades, but something in his head suggested that it was a lot of this. and by the sight of you, now fully undressed, he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.

fernando palmed himself through his jeans for a moment as he watched lance get undressed. it was a cute sight, to see his little girlfriend and his teammate on the bed together. seemed like you didn't need the help of a little herb to get this comfortable. he directed his attention to lance and said, "say something nice about her, she might get the wrong idea."

you looked at lance and pushed some of your hair out of your hair. you smiled at him, the kind of smile that drew the other driver in. you felt the uptick in your heart when lance replied.

"i sometimes wonder how could an angel like her, end up with you, nando." he chuckled then worked the belt of his jeans. he was painfully hard. it wasn't just primal stimulation or the drugs. you were fucking hot. he looked at you further and added, "i'm sorry, man, but... she's quite the looker." then looked at his teammate, "do you have blackmail or something?"

fernando replied while you giggled, "keep talking like that and i'll send you home." his tone was tense in a way that excited you and lance. the two men stripped down and fernando was on the bed.

lance moved without thinking, following with whatever you and fernando wanted. the spanish driver was propped up against the headboard with lance on his back, his mouth close to his cock. and you swung one leg over lance's waist with both hands on his toned stomach.

you gave a knowing look to fernando before you giggled. and your lover winked at you before your expression turned tense for a moment as you sank down on lance's cock. it soon turned to an expression of bliss as you started to move your hips against the aston martin driver.

"you want to be good like her, right? then suck me off, lance." fernando cooed and it made excitement bubble up in the canadian driver. fernando shuddered when lance kissed his cock before he started to suck him off like he had done it (or rather dreamed it) a million times.

lance groaned with his teammate's cock in his mouth as you rode him. there was enough room on the bed for the three of you to fuck to your heart's content. his dark eyes closed as he enjoyed the feeling of giving and receiving pleasure. he had never done something exactly like this, but he was egged on by the noises you and fernando were making.

he liked this a lot.

you giggled before you rubbed your dry eyes, the high in your body was heightened by the feeling of pleasure in your blood, "he looks cute when he's giving head." you ranked your fingers down his chest as you worked his length.

the entire room felt the pleasure between the three of you, the bed rocked a little bit from the movements as you moved with a certain pace. mostly you set it with your movements which lance followed with sucking fernando's cock.

you trailed your nails down the canadian's chest and giggled as you looked to your lover, "quite the ride."

"quite the sucker too." fernando laughed. the three of you incredibly high from an evening of smoking. you knew your apartment would smell like weed for a little while longer. but none of your cared, you'll air it out eventually. it wouldn't be any worse than the smell of sex in your shared bedroom with fernando.

you leaned in to kiss fernando and placed a hand on his collarbone, "fuck, honey." it was quite a feeling kissing the man you loved while you also rode his teammate like a stallion. lance's cock felt good, rubbed up against all the right areas. you knew the pleasure would be tenfold thanks to the weed, but this was unexpected. you held onto fernando's chin while you placed a hand on lance's chest. you moaned into your lover's mouth while you fucked the other man perfectly.

lance continued to suck fernando's cock, which made the older man moan into your kiss as well, he panted heavily when you pulled away and took you by the hips to fuck lance faster. the bed really rocked with the three of you as pleasure coursed through your systems.

your head felt full of cotton in the best way possible. fluffy filling tainted with a sexual euphoria that made your skull throb. you loved this. you whined against fernando, "fuck. we should've done this ages ago."

"good things come to those who wait." your lover replied as he choked lance a little bit on his cock which only made his cock cock twitch inside of you, "i have a feeling he has done this before with other lovers."

you looked over and patted his flustered face, "wouldn't be surprised. too cute not to pass up." you giggled as you really worked yourself on his cock. you could feel the blooming pleasure and the heat in your blood. you couldn't help but giggle from the feeling of it, the high graced your brain with heightened feelings that only made you giggle as you rode him.

the two men were loving it as well. the three of you moved perfectly. in a way perfect for one another. you were perfect for fernando as his partner and fernando was good for lance as a teammate. and you and lance simply got along perfectly, often leaving fernando's unable to think of much else besides the two of you.

lance worked his mouth on fernando's cock and you worked lance's cock. you tongue grazed along lance's neck and he felt a shudder of want through him. he held onto you a little tighter and met your thrusts, he bounced you on his cock with a heated fever.

this little game wasn't going to last forever. you could feel the tension in your thighs from your movements. it was hard to ride for what felt like so long. but you were determined as you laid a single hickey on lance's chest, which almost made him finish right there and then.

fernando knew what you could be like in the bedroom. a little toublemaker. after all, he taught you all of his tricks. you could easily ruin any man. lance should be lucky that he was brought into the fold. fernando wouldn't let anyone touch what was his. he did have to admire that you looked pretty riding lance.

"fuck, lance. fernando." you groaned as you continued to ride them. your thighs ached in the best was possible and you felt a splash of euphoria over you. it wasn't much longer before lance came as you kissed his neck.

he kept his mouth on fernando's cock and continued to suck him off while he finished inside of you with a heavy groan. you came soon after, pleasure hit and you happily rode through your climax before fernando finished down lance's throat while he kissed you deeply. all three of you were spent. lance even coughed from the salty taste in his mouth.

"holy shit." you exhaled while fernando patted your cheek and kissed lance. you were soon laid in between them. your cheek pressed against fernando's shoulder with lance's arm around your bare middle. lance giggled a little and you giggled in return. you looked over to the canadian driver and asked, "what are you laughing at?"

"nothing. never though i'd give head to my driving idol."

fernando rubbed your cheek and replied to lance, "keep it up and it won't be the last time." his high was starting to fade, but you and lance were still quite high. he kissed you both on the head before he said, "let me get you two some water." but before he could slip out of bed, two pairs of hands pulled him back in.

he looked at you and lance, you both were grinning like fools. before he could say anything you tapped his lips and said, "oh you thought we were done here, nando? nu-uh." and the older driver realized that he was going to get the best head of his life. <3

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ninelieswithme · 3 months ago

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ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*

𝙰 𝚂𝚞𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚘𝚛’𝚜 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ sʟᴀsʜᴇʀ ʟᴇᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✩ ᴛᴡ = sᴍᴜᴛ, ɴsꜰᴡ, ᴘ ɪɴ ᴠ sᴇx, ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ, sᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, ɢᴏʀᴇ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ

✩ sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ - ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇᴏɴ, ᴀ ɢᴜʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴇᴛ ɪɴ ᴄʟᴀss ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴜɴɪ/ᴄᴏʟʟᴀɢᴇ, ᴊᴏɪɴᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴛᴏ ᴏɴʟʏ ɢᴏ ʜᴏʀʀɪʙʟʏ, ᴡᴇ’ʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀsᴛ, ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴀʀᴀʜ

☆ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ɴ��ᴛᴇ - ʜᴀʏʏʏ sᴏʀʀʏ ɪꜰ ᴛʜɪs ɪsɴᴛ ɢᴏᴏᴅ, ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʏ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴇʀᴍ ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴇᴇᴋ.. ᴀʟsᴏ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ sɴᴀᴄᴋ’s.. ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ sɴᴀᴄᴋ 😏.. 😭

⁂ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏᴇs ᴇ/ᴄ ᴍᴇᴀɴ? ᴇ/ᴄ ᴍᴇᴀɴ’s ᴇʏᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏᴜʀ!

✪ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏᴇs s/ᴄ ᴍᴇᴀɴ? s/ᴄ ᴍᴇᴀɴ’s sᴋɪɴ ᴄᴏʟᴏᴜʀ!

★ sʟᴀsʜᴇʀ x sᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴏʀ ᴀᴜ - 3.8k ᴡᴏʀᴅs

𖤐 ᴋɪɴᴋ’s - ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏɴᴇ - ʟɪɴᴋ ꜰᴏʀ ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ʟɪsᴛ - ʜᴇʀᴇ

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚. ༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚. ༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚. ༉

Songs so him and her (you)..

The air hung thick with the scent of cheap beer and teenage drama.

You adjusted the borrowed dress you wore for the special day, its floral pattern clashing violently with the grunge aesthetic of Sarah's house.

The music pulsed a throbbing beat that echoed through the home, the tension building in your chest.

The lights ecstatic and frantic, eyes dilated from the alcohol in your system.

It was your 21st birthday today, a milestone you won’t forget.

But the anticipation had morphed into something darker, a fear-tinged dread.

It was all Sarah's fault.

Sarah, the self-proclaimed queen bee of the group you were in. Had been hostile to poor Leon from the start, thinking he was a freak that should’ve stayed in the gutter, where he belonged..

Leon, a timid soul.. well that’s what you thought.. you never knew what befriending him led you to- ahem..

Who never really fit in, with eyes as blue as the tropics. His hair a dusty gold.

You met him in the beginning of this year of college/university, his books flying out of his hands making the class banter and laugh.

Great..

Only keeping his head down, dropping to the group scrabbling for his books, till you walked over, helping grab some of the scattered books.

His blue eyes bearing into yours.

He didn’t stop staring, not for a second till he had to-

“..sigh, continue chapter 43!”

The professor yelled, instinctively you broke eye contact with Leon.. amazing giving him his books with a trademark smile.

Then standing to your full height, leaving to take your seat next to your friends.

Leon snarled to himself his hair hiding it, then standing, books in hand..

Stupid teacher..

With that he walked past the rows of people, their whispers and stares annoying him further..

Why are they staring.. what are you fucking looking at.. keep staring and I’ll SLIT YOUR FUCKING-

He only stared down enduring their judgement, sitting in the far corner, his piercing ice eyes staring into your e/c eye’s.

Then turning his head, eyes staring into the professor.

While your eyes stayed fixed onto the blondette.

In that moment you vouched to include him, seeing the pit of loneliness within his eye’s settling into the emptiness till you..

The class was soon dismissed, discarding your so called friends trotting over to Leon.

Without a thought you asked him to hang out with your group of friends with a crooked smile.

He did accept your proposal, with an unrelenting disgust for their loud, chaotic acts with the group.

You laughed gently taking hold of his sleeve his books long forgotten, he could feel his heart lurch into his throat.

Heat pooling his face with a light flush, while heat pooled between his legs.

God you were so cute..so pretty..so perfect…

God your just so perfect

As he throbbed lightly while you dragged him to your friends finally being pulled out of his sex filled daze.

“T-This is umm..” SHIT YOU FORGOT TO ASK FOR HIS N- “Leon”

He interrupted saving you from total embarrassment.

“Yea Leon, he should join our g-group”

Sarah just stared at the both of you before giving Leon a snide smirk.

“Fine.. like a give a shit”

That shocked Leon, only staring into her see her flinch lightly before turning her concentration onto the door.

She snorted walking away, the rest of the group following.

Fucking pig

Leon thought with a growl..

This was only the beginning.. of the end.

You quickly gashed after her Leon following at a lot slower pace, like he would run after some entitled bitch.

Sarah’s distain towards Leon only grew stronger, Sarah's snide remarks, the pointed glances, the exclusion from inside jokes.

Only made Leon annoyed, and you stressed..

He couldn’t have his poor baby stressed, so he tried his best finding every reason to stay home or away from your cunty friends and just you.

His perfect baby!

It wasn’t hard not attending much of the college/university, well when they found out he was head of his classes at least.

While gaining extra points for his lack of parents, plus his depression and schizophrenia medication.

It wasn’t a challenge not going but he hated the way you were treated.

The way Sarah trampled all over you, and you just took it!!

Baby no!! don’t be a fucking doormat!

Every whisper and thought was filled with shredding Sarah open with a smouldering hot blade, seeing the crimson cover him fully, the feeling of her body shaking to a halt, like cleansing his soul from gum under his shoe.

If the whispers and figures weren’t asking him to slash Sarah’s throat till her head lolled to the ground they were about you :)

About touching you, feeling you, cuddling you.. or sometimes.. shoving his drooling tip between your plush thighs, feeling his pre splatter and lube up your thighs while he dry fucked his cock around your thighs like a dog on heat.

While he told you about his day, about that he took his meds because you asked him so nicely while you were the only reason keeping him from slashing his bosses throat today <3

While he spoke about what you two were going to name your first born baby, or about how cute your body would look with his baby growing in your cute womb.

God his cock always grew firm every time he thought about you, just you!

Anyways!!

It escalated quickly..

Turning into deliberate attempts to humiliate Leon, to drive him away.

To deliberately turn him insane

BABY HES ALREADY THERE

Your loyalty unwavering as you defended him with all you had..

God he loved you..

He’ll give you a extra baby for that~ ;D

He couldn’t wait to grab that ugly head of Sarah’s and slit that throat till she gargled on her own filthy blood.

But the pressure was immense.

Sarah, with her sharp tongue and forceful charm, had turned the group of friends you were once so close with against you.

They started to echo Sarah's disdain like a whisper.

Your friends turned into enemies, their words laced with venom, their laughter cruel and mocking.

The birthday party within Sarah’s home once a celebration, had become a battleground.

"This is the last time, Y/N," Sarah hissed shoving you harder against the wall, her voice venomous.

Her hands on your shoulders as she snarled

All of her goons huddled in the cramped bathroom with the two of you.

You couldn’t help feeling like crying, tears beading in the corners of your eyes.

"You're either with us or against us. And if you choose that freak, it's going to be a lot worse than a few snide comments."

Sarah's words, fuelled by alcohol and malice, pierced straight through your sore heart.

Your lips quivered, head turning away, tears stinging your already glistened eyes, without a second thought you pushed past Sarah off of you and ran past the girls, out of the bathroom, some of them laughing as you retreated to the backyard patio.

Brushing past the hoards of people and loud music that blared in Sarah’s house.

Stumbling onto one of the outdoor pool couches, face hidden in some of the pillows muffling your cry’s.

The fire crisp near you while some adults stared down at you like a child speaking with their friends, alcohol in hand.

Tears finally falling, you didn’t want to make a choice to choose Leon or your childhood friends.. why.. why WHY!?!

All while Leon watched from within the house.

His eyes cold..

Finally.

FUCKING FINALLY.

As you sniffled and cried into the beach pillows, the rays of stars on your skin.

While Leon stalked after Sarah and her goons, laughing about their victory.

More like crying over spilled milk..

He stepped closer to me instinctively Sarah snarled at Leon.

Finally Leon returned the favour sending off a more aggressive snarl.

Sarahs snarl faltered some of her goons breaking off from the growing confrontation..

Without a thought he turned back..

Later..I’ll kill this bitch later

He thought treading away, leaving Sarah shocked and confused.

The music dialling down from the fleeting people, leaving no trace except alcohol.

50 guests turned to 20 then 7..

To 3..

Finally when you had calmed down, music gone, Sarah’s house bare.

You stood up, your face puffed from tears.

Sighing heavily as your weakly treaded back into the home.

You made your choice..

Leon had to go..

Your heart ached, you’ve grown to care for Leon so deeply… but your friends were all you had, family wasn’t a thing.

More tears pricked at your face

Im so sorry Leon..

Turning your face forwards again stepping deeper into the euphoric aesthetics of the home.

Face sour through the smudged makeup.

When you had returned, makeup ruined, the music was still playing .. but there was a chilling silence in the air.

Sarah was gone, so were your ex friends.

You searched frantically for them, calling out their names, only to be greeted by empty silence.

e/c eyes scanning the home.

Chills ran down your spine, you felt like you were being watched

While in your frantic search your eyes dismiss the blood, the disorganised items, the quiet pleas for help.

Your shoes sliding on the ground, making you lose balance falling on your ass to look down.. seeing a body..

Someone’s body..

Sarah..

You stumbled upon the scene, terror dripping your face, as more tears ran down your face.

Blood covering your shoes, only gulping thickly on air.

Sarah laid unmoving blood spilling, eyes bulging like a deer in headlights.

Blood oozing her wounds, some un fallen tears beading in the corners of her glossy eyes.

Lips parted the gloss smudged, some blood collected in her mouth.

Her eyes as lifeless as her body, pain evident in her body, the blade still stuck in the centre of her chest, the wound agape, blood spilling out of it soaking her clothes.

“Y-Y/-…”

She said weakly finally shaking you from your daze.. scrambling to your feet kneeling down to Sarah..

“Y-Yes Sarah.. I-i-I’m gonna go get help-“ “N-No..” she interrupted

“But…” “it’s t-to lat..e” she said over your pea, blood spewing from her mouth, some blood being collected onto your hands while you held her head, tears streaming you face.

“I-I’m sorry Y-..N” she said weakly her body going limp her head kissing its grip, eyes dilating.

You stayed with her tears falling your face.. you knew Sarah was a total ass.. but she was one of your only friends you had.

She cared about you deeply.. though she had a very unique way of showing it..

Well that’s what you thought..

His poor baby, so manipulated by that.. that.. that witch.

With a bleeding heart you stood up from your lifeless friend’s corpse, tears welling in you red eyes, slowly making your way to the phone to call the police.

To do the right thing..

To only be stopped mid way something,.

No someone..

A broad chest slammed into you face, stumbling back, you say a string of apologies.

Eyes focused on the ground apologising for the blood seeping into his tank top.

“Baby dont apologise, red always did look good on me~”

You shivered.. L-Leon.

You eyes darted up seeing the dusty blonde.

His outfit seemed off.. different.. more

Frantic...

Why is there blood on his cheek..

Wait he wasn’t wearing that shirt.. O-Or that jacket

Why did he call me baby??

“Leon?”

He only hummed with a dorky smile.

Why would he smile at a time like this..

Whatever, maybe sarah was right, he can be a bit weird sometimes..especially that staring..

You shook your head, again walking past leon to call the police.

Then feeling a hand wrap around your wrist pulling you back.

The home phone just out of reach.

You turned to face Leon, still smiling like a love sick puppy.

“Leon, I need to call the police”

His face turned sour, eyes turned cold.

"No. You're not."

He growled, sending shivers down your spine immediately.. you knew

The smile..

The blood..

Then dismissing attitude to Sarah’s death..

He’s the killer.

“She deserved it.. you know that right dearest?”

The last part came out more sweet than sour, while he gave you pleading eyes.

You stepped back your breath hitching while you looked for a way out of this mess.

“Y-You kil-“

“Yes I did..”

He interrupted smiling as if he didn’t do such a thing..

He just killed someone for you.. How sweet

But now you wanted to go and snitch on him?

For what?? Saying a small sorry

Please

He didn't plan on you ever siding with that.. that thing.. so he'd need to convince other wise.

Tears beaded your eyes.. you got played, you let a sociopath into the group and got Sarah killed..

Your heart was torn to shreds.

You should call the police,

Get Leon arrested.. but Leon’s all you have..

Your friends are gone, family isn’t an option..

God why..

“Leon why..”

You said your voice breaking tears falling for your face.

“Why do you think silly”

He cooed as if your friends blood was on his dirty hands, as he leaned into you boxing you in, with a coy smile.

You flinched while Leon brushed hair out of you face.

Then leaning into you, then speaking into the shell of your ear.

"I'm sick and tired of them treating you badly. You're far too sweet and stupid to know how to deal with it, so I did for you baby!”

He smiled like a child on Christmas.

He really didn’t know what he did was wrong

Did he..

Your pain turned fury, yelling at him.

“So you fucking killed someone”

Leon didn’t like that..

His cold demeanour returning, his face hardening.

His hand around your wrist crushing down enough to bruise.

You yelped, more tears dropping your face.

“Leon that hurt really”

He only stayed stoned face then faking a smile.

“Whattt, just treating you like my heart right now baby, stop crushing it”

He spat, his hold still painful.

Your eyes glassy while looking around the home, looking for a way out.

“No need baby~ it’s just you and me”

Still looking for a way out, staring around, the music still playing giving you a worse migraine.

“Eyes on me”

He hissed letting go of your clearly swollen wrist grabbing your chin roughly, your e/c eyes meeting the cold icy ones of Leon

Earning Leon another yelp.

Looks like you’re finding your place slowly but surely.

You looked at him flinching at his breaths, legs buckling back and forth barely keeping you up right

“What scared, of me.. huh scared of the man of your dreams, for saving you”

He laughed at the last part finding it very annoyingly funny that you’re cowering to your- well what he thought your saviour.

“Y-you didn’t save me, you played me?!”

You yelled back..

Awww when he thought you were learning you just had to run that dirty mouth of yours..

Without a thought his hold on your chin turned hostile, turning to a hold on your throat.

Eyes bulging, hand clawing at his much bigger one.

While you gasped and heaved for air some tears dropping from your ruined face

“I think your deserve a good lesson on respect baby.. then being a entitled bitch~”

He cooed coldly forcing a happy facade while all he wanted to do was spank that ungrateful ass of yours.

Here you were, pinned to Sarah’s bed, caged in by Leon, with no way out~

Moans escaping your lips, Leon’s lips ravaging your body.

The heat between your legs pooling. Feeling yourself clench around nothing.

Kissing up your neck smearing the blood on his check onto your collarbone. Where many other red spots laid form Leon’s so called love.

Quickly he pulled up and off your floral dress, then your bra, leaving you bare.

The cold air hitting your areolas

Eyes going large, you cover yourself with your hands.

Hiding your puckered nipples.

Only to feel a lot more callous pair of hands rip them away.

You breasts bare.

“Baby don’t hide from me~ I love you”

He said with a genuine smile, gently looking at your pretty breasts..

How’d I get so lucky.

Such perfect, hair, face, smile, body, attitude.. skin,

Oh so perfect

“So perfect”

His lips making contact with your smooth skin, the dampness of your panties beading..

“L-Leon~”

You said in gasped breaths, the feverish blush growing.

You hand snaking down while Leon sucked and nipped at your skin

Your hand coming to a halt..

Feeling Leon’s hard on through his jeans, grind against your hand, making him whine every so often.

Feeling it twitch for the lack of stimulation.

Your hand making smooth motions while Leon licked at you all over, leaving marks at his wake.

Earning you whimpers from the blondette while he spoke.

“M’been wishing this for so long”

He groaned then halting..

“Oh!”

“Where’s my manners, you need a punishment still!”

He smiled happily, your blood running cold while Leon flipped you onto your stomach.

Leon’s gaze following down your stunning body his eyes making contact with your pink pants, the word slut embodied onto them.

“Fuckkk.. you slut~”

He hissed pushing his clothed cock between you ass grinding and humping against your plush ass for a few minutes.

Only stopping himself when he felt like his cock wanting more.

Landing a hard hit onto your ass, with another coming after the other.

Making your eyes bead with tears, though the knot in your stomach grew.

So did the dampness of your panties grew, mind growing more foggy.

Feeling Leon strike your pretty ass over and over again, the dampness grew.

You’re hazy growing by the minute, nipples puckering.

While so did Leon’s occasional grinding.

“Are you sorry baby?”

He asked spanking your ass again, tears threatening to fall.

“Baby?~”

He snarled slapping your ass harder leaving an imprint..

You yelped the heat of the slap coursing through you, landing at your clit.

“Y-Yes Leon”

You said tears finally falling, the feeling of hot air on your red ass sending shivers.

He smirked slapping your jelly ass again.

What does this man want from me?!?

You thought eyes lidded and aching.

“It’s daddy”

He said planting a kiss onto your temple, then coldly slapping you again, tears coming down while he peppered the side of you face in tender kisses.

“Sayyy it~~”

He hissed, hand raised to spank your reddened rear again.

“Y-Yes daddy”

You choked out, tears clouding your vision.

“What are you sorry for??”

He asked coldly though keeping his hand raised, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“M-M sorry for not being grateful”

You sobbed, Leon’s demeanour changed

Turning more..

Tender.

“Good girl, I forgive you”

He said flipping you back on your back.

“Lemme say sorry”

He kissed you, his tongue dancing with yours, a large hand cupping your heat.

Fingers playing with the thin fabric.

Making you moan, back arching lightly.

“L-Leon~”

He chuckled stopping his motions on your damp pussy.

“Uh uh uh~ daddy~”

You whine in the loss, bucking your hips into his digets.

“Naughty girl.. m’but I can’t stay mad at you~~”

He said pushing them into your plush folds, deviding them through the fabric.

Nipples hardening, grinding your wet heat against his fingers.

The wetness collecting lightly on Leon’s fingers.

Without much to waste Leon grabbed the damp spot on your underwear, slipping them off of your silky s/c skin.

Goose bumps littering you thighs and arms while you gasped out on Leon’s boldness.

Feverish blush covering your face.

The dusty blonde tampered with his belt unbuckling it, throwing it to the side while pulling down his pants.

Cock springing out of its thin confines, the tip glistened with clear pre.

He was a light hot pink, with a cute swollen tip, with little to no hair down at his v line to the base of his twitching cock.

He moaned while you stared at his man hood, pre oozing at the tip.

Bitting his lower lip.

God baby keep staring at me like that, m’gonna cum..

He thought shuffling closer to you, kissing your neck passionately, nipping at you.

Pulling his fingers from your folds.

Hands collecting at your knees spreading your glistening folds.

Legs pushing past your calf’s.

With a smooth motion Leon sunk his cock deep into your tight walls.

Hooking it deep inside your tight pussy, his cock bulging out of your womb.

M’gonna breed this greed thing

He set a fast pace, hand locked on your thigh. squeezing every so often.

His cock hitting your gummy walls where you’ve craved for so long.

Tears beaded your eyes, while Leon bit at your neck, growling.

“Nobody’s been in this deep I see~”

He said looking at your flush and hazed state.

You nodded slowly, eyes lidded. Sweat covering your form.

God baby m’gonna fuck you full of my seed, m’gonna make you a momma if ya keep that up.

“Huh biggest you had”

He said ego boosting when you nodded again.

God your clit was throbbing, aching to be touched.

Whining you added a diget onto your puffy bud, Leon thrusting deep inside your cunt.

Your moans music to his ears.

“M’shoulda killed that bitch a loonng time ago”

You clenched around his cock, the remembrance of Sarah stinging.

“M’too early?~”

He sensed your unease fucking you faster, tears pricking your face from how good Leon’s cock felt.

Plus the dread you having Sarah’s killers cock inside your heat at the moment.

Awww baby still sad, over that bitch.. I’ll make you feel better.

He smirked then kissing you senselessly

“Forget about her..”

“Think about our babies more~”

He said speeding up, taking more of the reigns, pushing your finger away from your clit earning a whine.

Shoving his thumb on it, making you squirm and buck into leon.

Earning a smirk..

Atta girl

“M’gonna fill you~”

Said hips bucking, cock twitching.

Tongue lolled out, eyes lidded.

I’ll do alll the work~ baby

He pushed you further on his cock, the sound of skin slapping echoing the bedroom.

His cock sliding in and out of your tight walls.

You Meeks being heard.

“Gonna fuck this pussy so good, m’gonna keep you here, b-breed you ah~ right here”

He spat, his thrusts growing uneven the knot in your tummy growing.

Your hands going weak for Leon to drag them into his hair, you pulled on his hair earning a growl.

“M’Gonna give you everything”

“All of it!”

He whimpered cock sporting pre deep into your greedy cunt.

Feeling the hot sensation of Leon’s cock drag in and out of your needy hole.

Your body trembling, legs shaking, hands unmoving, eyes lidded.

He smirked seeing you whine on his gritty cock.

The sensations of your pussy wrapped around him sending shivers down Leon’s toned body.

His cock throbbing, hair sticking to his forehead.

“I-I did this for you.. only you”

He whined gasping, his hold on your knees becoming harder, while your hands in his hair tugging on him.

“G-Gonna cum..”

You whispered, your cunt squeezing Leon every so often.

You better not me on birth control

“Me too baby.. let’s come together”

He said like a puppy on heat bitting his lip, your juices mixing at his base.

“Breed you so full of my love”

He panted happily, you could almost see the hearted pupils in his ocean blue eyes.

Your knot growing unimaginably large, your clit swollen and red.

Leon’s finger firm on it, making your squirm around his cock.

Cock speeding up, pounding your pussy.

“So c-cute, s-so swollen with my b-babies, shit- go-nna c-cu-um”

Leon’s hips stuttering, white ropes filling your slick cunt, a whimper escaping him.

Your womb inflating, cum shooting deep into you, the warmth adding to your twitching clit.

Head lolled back, Leon frantically kissing you, still thrusting, while tears fell, from your eyes, mouth a gape.

“Did so well, taking my seed”

He cooed kissing and licking at your sweaty skin.

“Such a good job baby~”

He smiled kissing at your face pulling hair out of the way of your sticky fire head.

Exhaustion getting the better of you, from the betrayal to the heart ache to well the pussy ache~

Your eyes fluttering closed, while Leon caressed your face, littering it with kisses.

A growl coming from him.

Accompanied with a the gaping feeling of his cock entering you again

Looks like round two

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rafestify · 2 months ago

Text

The Bonfire — Rafe Cameron

Summary : Rafe catches reader and JJ laughing together, which makes him jealous and furious.

Rafe Cameron x JJ Maybank x Pogue!Reader

Warning : Nothing just a lot of swearing (english is not my first language)

A/N : This was a request from @poopykakamattsturniolo, i hope u like it 🩵🫶

The clock neared 5 p.m., and the sky, darker than usual, hinted at the approach of evening. A cool breeze swept through the air, crisp and invigorating, signaling the transition from day to night. The faint sounds of laughter and distant chatter drifted from the direction of the beach, where the bonfire would soon come to life. It was the perfect evening for gathering around the flames, the promise of warmth hanging in the summer air. My phone lit up suddenly, a notification from my best friend, JJ Maybank.

BONFIREEE DAY!!!

Are you seriously not going, Y/N/N?

4:43 p.m.

I couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. Sitting up from the couch, I stretched and made my way toward the bedroom where Rafe was. "Rafe?" I called softly. I found Rafe sprawled out on the bed, his body relaxed but his focus entirely on the laptop in front of him. His brow was furrowed slightly, eyes moving back and forth as he read through the documents, I stood at the doorway for a moment, just watching him—his strong profile, the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly as he concentrated. But I wasn’t about to let him stay wrapped up in work all evening.

I walked over, the soft creak of the floorboards catching his attention just as I sat beside him. He glanced up, his expression shifting from focused to something much softer as he saw me. I absentmindedly began twisting the rings on my fingers, the cool metal spinning lightly against my skin.

"I’m gonna go to the bonfire," I said casually, my tone deliberately light and nonchalant, as though it was just another evening out.

He didn’t look concerned, but his eyes flicked to mine with mild curiosity. "With who?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with a hint of possessiveness. He always asked. It was Rafe—he needed to know. But for now, it wasn’t suspicion, just curiosity, as he set the papers aside and gave me his full attention. "Just the usual," I replied with a small smile, twisting one of my rings in slow circles. I knew exactly what he was thinking—Sabrina and Violette. He liked them well enough. They were safe in his mind, part of my usual crew. He didn’t need to worry when I was with them.

He leaned back against the headboard, his body still relaxed as he arched an eyebrow at me. "You want me to drive you?" he asked, offering with a kind of easy confidence, his eyes scanning my face for any sign that I needed him to come along. I shook my head softly, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "I’ll walk, baby. I’ll be fine," I said, pulling back with a smile as I met his gaze. His lips lingered close to mine, his hand reaching up to pull me in for another kiss, this one slower, deeper, as though he didn’t want to let go just yet. He let out a quiet hum, one that I could feel vibrate against my lips before he pulled away slightly. "Just pick me up later, yeah?" I asked, brushing my thumb along his jawline. Rafe held my gaze for a moment longer, his fingers grazing lightly along my arm before he sighed and nodded. "Be careful, a'ight?" he murmured, his voice low and tender.

I smiled as I stood up, glancing back over my shoulder as I made my way to the door. "I will!" I called out, my voice carrying through the room as I left, already feeling the warmth of the evening bonfire calling to me.

—

By the time I reached the bonfire, the sun had dipped low, leaving an orange glow on the horizon. The air buzzed with energy—everyone loved these bonfires. It felt like the whole island showed up. As I scanned the crowd, I saw plenty of familiar faces, mostly friends from high school. Then my eyes landed on him.

"JJ!" I called, seeing him by one of the kegs, busy refilling his red cup with beer. His eyes met mine and he grinned widely, jogging over. "Dude, I have no idea what kind of beer this is, but this shit tastes amazing!" JJ chuckled as he side-hugged me, his arm slinging comfortably around my shoulders. "You good?" he asked, his eyes searching mine. I nodded, laughing.

Growing up on the poor side of the island, JJ and I had always been close. Our dads were friends, which meant we spent a lot of time together as kids. His dad used to come over to my house, and he’d always bring JJ along. Those days were simpler, and they were the foundation of our friendship.

"Your friends didn’t come?" I asked, looking around.

"Nah, they're all caught up with treasure hunting stuff," he said, guiding me toward the fire. We found a spot close to the flames, sitting on an old log. "Oh, what are you guys up to now?" I asked curiously, already knowing what "treasure" he was talking about.

JJ smirked, "Your boyfriend didn’t tell you?" I tilted my head and furrowed my brows in confusion "Which one? The cross?" He nodded, grinning wider. "Yeah, that cross belongs to the Heywards. We’ve been looking for it. Rafe's been keeping quiet, huh?" I shrugged. "He’s not too keen on sharing treasure-hunting stories with me," I said with a laugh, and JJ laughed along with me. We kept joking and chatting, our laughter blending with the crackle of the fire that sent warmth through the crisp, cool night air. The flames flickered brightly, casting a soft glow on our faces as the chill of evening set in, wrapping around us like a gentle reminder of the coming night. Above, the sky deepened into rich shades of twilight, stars beginning to peek through the fading light, adding to the magic of the moment.

---

Meanwhile, Rafe sat at his desk, surrounded by a sea of paperwork, his pen gliding smoothly over the documents as he signed off on various reports, each stroke punctuated by a sense of responsibility. The quiet of the room was suddenly interrupted by the buzz of his phone vibrating against the wood, jolting him from his concentration. Curiosity sparked in his chest as he glanced at the screen, wondering who could be messaging him at this hour, his brow furrowing slightly as he reached for the device. He glanced at the screen and saw a message from Topper.

WTF is your girl doin’ with maybank

📷 Photo

6:57 p.m.

Rafe's gaze darkened immediately as he opened the image. Without a second thought, Rafe shoved the papers to the side, the stack sliding messily across his desk as he abruptly stood up. His hand instinctively reached for his car keys, and in a flash, he was storming out of the house, the door slamming behind him. His mind was a whirlwind of anger and jealousy, his thoughts singularly focused on JJ being too close, laughing too easily, acting far too comfortable with someone who was supposed to be his. Rafe's blood boiled at the mere idea, his chest tightening as if JJ was threatening to take something sacred from him. The car roared to life, and Rafe gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity, his jaw clenched. His foot pressed hard on the gas, the engine growling as he sped through the darkening streets, tires screeching with every sharp turn.

The night rushed by in a blur, but all Rafe could see was the image of JJ next to me, smiling like he belonged there. His pulse pounded in his ears, his heart racing faster than the car. He barely registered the bonfire’s glow on the horizon as he approached, the flickering light casting shadows against the trees. He pulled up to the gathering with a screech of tires, parking haphazardly as he leaped out of the car, not even bothering to shut the door. His eyes scanned the crowd frantically, his chest heaving as he searched for us. And then, there we were—sitting by the fire, laughing together like nothing else in the world mattered. The flames flickered in the background, casting a warm glow over us, but to Rafe, it only fueled the fire burning in his chest. His eyes locked on JJ, and in that moment, every thought vanished except the need to separate us.

I furrowed my brows in confusion, surprised to see Rafe arriving so soon. I hadn’t texted him to pick me up yet. JJ noticed the change in my expression and followed my gaze. Rafe was storming toward us, his face like thunder.

"Rafe?" I started, but he didn’t give me a chance to explain. Without warning, he shoved JJ hard in the chest. JJ stumbled back, catching his balance, his face a mix of confusion and amusement.

"What the fuck are you doing with my girl, huh?" Rafe growled, his voice laced with anger.

"Rafe!" I shouted, my voice sharp with panic as I rushed over, desperately trying to pull him away from JJ. His grip on JJ's shirt was like iron, his knuckles white and trembling with barely contained rage, as if he was holding onto more than just fabric—he was holding onto his anger, his jealousy, his fear of losing me. I tugged at his arm, feeling the tension radiating off him, but Rafe's eyes were locked on JJ, blazing with fury, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought he might snap at any second. "Rafe, let go!" I said, more forcefully this time, trying to pry his hands off JJ. But Rafe was too far gone, too blinded by jealousy to listen.

"I swear to God, Maybank, if I see you around her again, I’ll fucking kill you," Rafe spat, pointing a finger at JJ’s chest. JJ just chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "Rafe, let go!" I yelled, pushing against his chest until he finally loosened his grip. JJ stepped back, raising his hands in surrender, though I could tell he was trying not to provoke Rafe further.

"We’re going home. Now," Rafe said through gritted teeth, grabbing my wrist and dragging me away from the fire. I glanced back at JJ one last time, mouthing, 'I’m sorry' before slipping into the passenger seat of Rafe’s car. The ride back was tense, Rafe gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. His nostrils flared, his jaw clenched, and sweat dripped down his forehead.

I sat quietly for a moment, letting the silence stretch between us before I finally spoke. "Rafe, what the hell was that about?" I asked, my voice calm but firm.

He didn’t answer right away, just kept his eyes glued to the road, the tension still radiating off him. "You know how much I hate him," he muttered finally, his voice low and dangerous. "That doesn’t give you the right to act like that!" I shot back, frustration bubbling up inside me. "He’s my bestfriend, Rafe. We’ve known each other for years."

"Best friend?" Rafe scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief as if the mere idea was laughable. His eyes burned with a mix of anger and frustration, his voice low and intense. "He’s always around you, always looking at you like he wants you, Y/N. You think I don’t see that? It’s like he’s just waiting for the right moment to swoop in." I sighed heavily, the weight of his words settling like a stone in my stomach. Rubbing my temples, I felt a headache brewing beneath the surface, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Rafe, JJ and I are just friends," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though a hint of exasperation crept in. "That’s all it’s ever been. Do you really not trust me? You know me better than that." I searched his face for understanding, hoping he could see that my loyalty to him was unwavering, despite the easy camaraderie I shared with JJ. He pulled into the driveway, killing the engine, but didn’t move to get out. He sat there for a moment, breathing heavily, his hands still gripping the steering wheel. I reached over, gently placing my hand on his.

"I love you, Rafe. Only you, not JJ. You have nothing to worry about," I said softly, squeezing his hand. "But you can’t keep acting like this every time I’m around someone you hate."

Rafe’s expression softened as he leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes, a deep breath escaping him. "I just—I don’t want to lose you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, revealing the vulnerability beneath his anger. I smiled gently and leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "You’re not going to lose me," I reassured him, my tone tender and firm. "I’m right here, Rafe. You’re the one I want." He sighed, running a hand through his hair before finally turning to face me.

His eyes remained clouded with emotion, but there was a newfound softness as he looked at me. "I’m sorry," he murmured, his thumb brushing against my knuckles, and I felt warmth spread through my chest. I smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly on the lips. "That’s all I wanted to hear." Rafe sighed, resting his forehead against mine, the tension between us slowly dissipating. "I love you," he whispered, his voice tender and sincere. "I love you too," I replied, closing the distance for another kiss, this one deeper and filled with the promise of understanding.

"Now, all you have to do is apologize to JJ," I said half-jokingly, a teasing smile playing on my lips, fully aware that there was no way in hell Rafe would ever go through with that. Rafe let out a small chuckle, shaking his head as he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah, no thank you," he replied, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he feigned innocence, his playful defiance shining through. I couldn’t help but laugh at his stubbornness, knowing that while he might never admit it, the thought of mending things with JJ was the furthest thing from his mind.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! 🎀🪷

#rafe cameron #jj maybank #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe #rafe cameron fic #rafe obx #rafe cameron obx #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank rp #netflix #outer banks #drew starkey #rudy pankow #taylor swift

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for-a-longlongtime · 4 months ago

Text

Guilty Pleasure (6/7) - dbf!Joel Miller x reader

An open bar and Joel in a tailored black outfit mean trouble at your father's garden party. Enough reason to do something you haven't done before.

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, mdni 🔞🔥 Series warnings (tba): Age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 43), masturbation (f), use of sex toys, oral sex, PiV, anal, hair pulling, dirty talk, getting caught, playful use of 'daddy', outrageous flirting, groping, reference to m/m, Joel's arms should always come with a warning. No outbreak!AU. Word count: 3.4K A/N: I finished writing the final chapter last night and y'all, I'm giddy as fuck. Big BIG thanks to @milla-frenchy and @reallyrallyauthor for your support and reading Part 6 and 7 early to make sure this hits juuust right!

< part 5 | series masterlist | main masterlist

There are too many people in your backyard. Mingling, chatting, networking, kissing ass - all accompanied by canapés that are too fancy, beer that is so painfully hip and micro-brewed that you don’t even want to try it, and outfits intended to seem semi-casual yet also upstage everybody. You hate these gatherings. It’s far from the first time you’ve had to endure them because of your father’s work, though. Even your grandmother liked reminding you when you were little that your grandfather also hosted affairs like this. “It’s important to build connections.”

You don’t care. All you give a damn about tonight - or maybe these days, if you are honest with yourself - was Joel, dressed like a fucking vision. Well fitting black pants, that you suspect are tailored, an ever better fitting black dress shirt which is absolutely tailored, and matching black boots. His hair, usually curly and messy, now looks so sharp that you wonder if he got a haircut this morning; it’s a little shorter, definitely neater, and brushed back a little.

But what your eyes keep going back to the most are the few buttons on his shirt that are undone, showing off his tanned skin and a smattering of freckles you had barely noticed before. It makes you want to trace every single one with your tongue and find out if he would whine when you'd suck a hickey on his neck.

He’s at the bar, waiting for his drink, so you slide in right next to him and bump against his arm. “Hey. Don’t tell me you’re drinking those craft beers?”

“Jesus. No, of course not.”

The expression on his face is one of instant disgust, and you can’t help but laugh at the candid response. “Wow, didn’t think there’d be someone else who’d hate them as much as I do.”

Joel grumbles something, then gives the bartender a nod as he takes a glass of whiskey from him. When the guy turns to you to take your order, you point at Joel’s glass. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.”

The guy gives you a doubtful look. “Can I see some ID?”

“Yes, you can. It’s called ‘I’m the daughter of the guy who is paying your salary tonight’ and I’m twenty two. Thanks for making that drink now.” You stare at him, daring him to push back against you - you are NOT in the mood for this tonight, especially not in front of Joel. After a few moments, the bartender sighs and shrugs as he turns around, reaching for a glass and some ice. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you, so you turn towards him to give him a similar look. “What? Go ahead. Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That I’m being a brat.”

“Nah.” Joel shakes his head as he sips from his whiskey. “You’d just get off on that. That’s not brattiness - you’re actually being rude,” he says, then wanders off to go talk to someone nearby.

You stare at him with an open mouth, anger starting to creep into you. How the fuck does he dare to just say something like that to you? It hurts, and most of all it gives you a pang of concern that maybe you’ve ruined your chances with him - between this and the way he responded at the pool a few days ago.

“Oh honey, forget about it.” The bartender gives you a look that’s bordering on pity and disdain, his inflection drastically different all of a sudden as he pushes a glass towards you. “That man ain’t into you. Wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole. Why don’t you go find somebody of your own age to play with, hmmm?”

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself?”, you snap at him as you grab the glass and stalk off, his words feeling like claws that have sunk into your skin and won’t let go of you. The burn of the liquor doesn’t help you in the way you’d hoped for, and you find yourself craving something stronger, sweeter. Anything that’ll help you take the edge off.

Anything, in this case, turns out to be 6’3”, blond, looks like a jock and is named… Brady? Brody? Brad. Ben. Blake. Something like that, you can’t remember, but it’s unimportant after having chatted with him for all of ten minutes. What matters is that he’s not a bad kisser, smells fine - not woodsy like Joel unfortunately - and his hands are large as well as eager, pressing you with your back against the solid wood of the pergola.

If it wouldn’t ruin the mood for him, you probably would’ve laughed at the irony of making out with Blaine - Brandon? Brayden? No. Bruno. Bruce. Barry. Maybe it was Chad after all - right against the pergola that Joel had built over the past couple of days.

You’d been watching Joel from your bay window, his muscles straining in the sun, while he grunted the way you had memorized from his Instagram videos. And for all of those three days, you’d had several orgasms as you’d watched him. Some of them were thanks to your fingers, others due to toys - varying from the small bullet vibe to the thrusting rabbit vibrator you used for longer sessions. But in the end, all of this had been going on for too long. The flirting, the way you’d feel him look at you regularly, the build up of tension; it had you feral by now, and you just wanted Joel.

You are gonna get him. Soon. Even if it means needing to make him jealous.

“Should we- should we go inside?” Jock guy pauses his kisses, leaning his forehead against yours as he runs his hands down your body, and you can feel him press hot and heavy against your thigh. Fuck, he is hung. “We’ll have some more privacy, and…”

“No, this is fine,” you say quickly, your eyes scanning the crowd of people across the yard. Most of them are unaware of your makeout session, and your glance slides right past them, but suddenly you detect Joel not too far away from where you are. He is staring right at you, gripping his whiskey glass in your hand, and when the guy next to him says something, he only shakes his head, not breaking his glance with you.

“Are you…”

“I said this is fine,” you said sharply to the guy with his hands on your hips. A frown plays over his face, and in a gesture of good will you let your hand brush over the crotch of his pants, tracing the outline of his dick. “Nobody is watching.”

He groans, his lips finding yours again as he pushes himself against your hand. You kiss him back eagerly this time, your arms around him as you turn him just the slightest bit so you can keep your view of Joel. He’s talking to the guy next to him now, a back and forth conversation, but every now and then his eyes slide back to you, and then there’s a nod he gives you that makes you shiver.

Baxter, or Bart, Bobby, or whatever the hell his name is, slips his hand under your skirt, and you moan when his fingertips trace your lacy underwear. You hear how he sucks in air for a second, then his chest almost puffs up in pride at how wet he finds you. Silly guy. He thinks it’s because of him, that his not-too-bad kisses have riled you up so much. Has no damn clue how Joel’s eyes are back on you again.

“Touch me,” you breathe at him, and then hold your breath when he does so. Thick fingers - though not as thick as Joel’s - slipping under the fabric of your panties, pulling them to the side while your eyes remain locked on Joel. You’re trying to merge the touches with your fantasies and the visual of Joel right in front of you, conjuring up his voice. You think of the way he’d tease you with slow, playful strokes over your pussy, each time a little more focused on your clit, making you delirious with need before he’d even consider sliding a finger into your soaked cunt.

But reality seems more than unwilling to blend with your fantasies. While initially the guy seemed to smell fine, you’re now noticing the overwhelming amount of generic fuck boy cologne he’s wearing, the scent unsettling and clearly something Joel would never even wear. He doesn’t smell like a hard day’s work on Joel does and his hands are too smooth, too well taken care of. No roughness from manual labor whatsoever, no finesse to tease you, and definitely not much muscle memory on how to properly get a woman going.

Instead he’s just clumsy, perhaps because all the blood has rushed to his cock that’s pressing insistently against you. Substitute-Joel’s fingers slide over your folds only one disappointing time, clearly not even attempting to find your clit. He fumbles around as his own breathing grows heavy, then suddenly tries to push two fingers inside of you - without any further prep or even checking if that’s okay with you.

It abruptly ruins the horny spell you’d been under several minutes ago, and you swear as you grab his hand to stop him, your pussy strongly objecting to his fingers trying to invade you.

“Hey! Fucking hell,” you hiss, pulling his hand out of your underwear before he can go any further. “You always fingerbang girls without properly prepping them?”

“What? You’re practically dripping on me,” he hisses back as he looks confused. But you’re not about to end up in a discussion about how being wet doesn’t mean he can just shove his fingers inside of you - let alone without any warning.

“Never mind,” you say as you push him away from you, then straighten your clothes as you move away from the pergola. “Let’s just forget this happened, okay? I’ve gotta go say hi to someone.”

“Bitch,” he mutters at you, adjusting his tie and the collar of his shirt. On most days you would’ve gladly torn him a new asshole for that, but you’re just not in the mood to further engage with him. So you start to head into Joel’s direction, but then see that he seems to have moved elsewhere, leaving you to look around in confusion.

You look up when you hear a group of men laugh, and see your father shake some hands as he offers his audience a few more words. Joel is there too, you realize, still with a drink in his hand. Your father gives him a friendly pat on his arm, which is returned with Joel’s signature nod, as he then heads over to some other people who look more than eager to greet him. It makes your skin crawl to see him acting like some kind of politician, eager to make a good impression on everyone, and you quickly turn away from him to look back at Joel - who is now looking straight at you again, without saying anything.

It’s not until you’re back at the bar for another whiskey - you’ve lost track of how many you’ve had - that he shows up next to you, giving you a gentle nudge like you had done to him earlier. “D’you eat anything recently?”, he asks, absentmindedly playing with a coaster on the bar. You can smell the smokey alcohol on his breath, see that the buttons on his shirt are just a little more opened than they were a little while ago, and it just makes you ache for him.

“Shut up, Joel,” you mutter, but he doesn’t follow your suggestion - instead he picks up the whiskey that the bartender slides over to you and takes a sip of it.

“A water for her, please?”, he asks, then covers the liquor glass with his hand when you try to reach for it. “No. You’re done.”

You’re starting to seethe at this point. “Who the fuck you think you are telling me how much I can drink?,” you snap at him. His eyes are infuriatingly calm, but the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips makes it clear he’s a lot more amused than you are.

“Easy, darling. Just looking out for you, okay?” He pushes the glass of ice water on the counter over to you, but you have half a mind to throw it at him.

“Why are you bothering me?”

His eyebrows raise at the word ‘bothering’, but he doesn’t quite respond to it. “Just have some water and food,” he says softly. “You’ll feel like shit if you don’t.”

“You’re drunk too.”

Joel rolls his eyes at you. “Yeah, well… have to get through this all somehow, don’t I? Been drinking water too, though.” He gives you a look as he takes another sip of whiskey, sighing.

“I don’t get why you’re here.” Your head is spinning a little, but at this point you’re not sure if it’s the booze or proximity to Joel that’s getting to you. The memory of that jock guy’s cologne is far from your mind by now, replaced now by that smell that you crave - the cologne you would recognize anywhere, layered with Joel’s own scent. And it’s driving you mad. “Nobody is making you, unlike they’re doing with me.”

A smile plays over Joel’s face and he shrugs. “Your mom asked me.”

You can’t help but laugh. “My— what? And that’s why you’re voluntarily subjecting yourself to all of this?” You gesture around the yard, the groups of stuffy people, pretentious bite sized food and music that makes you desperately want to connect your phone to the speaker system. “I’ve been to so many of these. It’s awful, every single time.”

You’re waiting for him to tell you it’s not that bad, or even that you should suck it up. But instead he simply doesn’t respond, and only gives you a raised eyebrow as he has some more whiskey. When he puts the glass down on the bar, you impulsively swipe it and drain it before he can interfere, waiting for an actual retort this time.

A frown slides onto his face and you grin almost triumphantly at the reaction, pushing the empty glass back towards him, only ice cubes remaining in it now. “I think you like dramatic,” you then blurt out, and see how he blushes slightly, the red flush creeping up from his chest to his neck.

“That what you think?” His eyes flick over you, and you nod, poking him in the chest with your finger.

“Yeah. You’re… practical. Proper. Maybe kinda boring. You got your routine.” You really should stop talking with all that liquor in your system, but you refuse to admit he was right about you needing to sober up. “Maybe getting close to a midlife crisis? Working your job and then all the reno on your house. Don’t see you chill a whole lot.”

You run your finger a little down his chest, then place your full hand against his shirt as you lean over to his ear. “I think you want some fun,” you whisper in his ear, barely audible due to the music playing at the party. “Somebody who shakes things up. Brings a little drama and excitement.”

Joel’s eyes are slightly unfocused from the whiskey, just like yours probably are, and you can tell that his guard is down in ways that you haven’t experienced before. “Old, huh? Boring, old, and close to a midlife crisis,” he says after a moment, a smirk on his face as he shakes his head. “But you would shake things up? Why would you bother with an old man?”

“Maybe I’m into that.” You bite your lip as you hesitate for a moment. “The whole DILF thing. And don’t think I haven’t noticed you watching me.”

His smirk widens into an actual grin now as he laughs, looking away at some commotion or a gathering that’s happening at the party. When he looks back at you, his eyes are darker than usual, and you can’t help but feel a shiver run down your spine.

“Little girl. You are in over your head.” His words are measured and quiet as he seems to pick them carefully, his hand now reaching for yours that’s still resting against his chest, and he gently pulls it off his shirt. “ Y’don’t even have a clue of what you’re playing with, darling. What are you gonna do? Rock my world? At your father’s party?”

“I don’t give a shit about his party,” you say sharply, but he shakes his head, interrupting you.

“But that’s the thing. You do,” he murmurs. “Y’couldn’t be more thrilled than to do so here, just to make a scene. Like you did with that guy.”

You feel victorious hearing him confirm that he had been watching you, and together with his ‘little girl’ comment it’s enough to make you soak your panties on the spot. “Were you jealous?”, you ask him challengingly.

He chuckles again, this time getting up from the barstool, and you take in his physique, admiring the way those tailored pants fit around his thighs. “Have some more water. And food,” he tells you, and in the split second you have before he turns away, you make up your mind. Perhaps it’s more like instinct, to do what you’ve been stopping yourself from doing for a while now.

You grope him.

Fingers quick as you cup him through his pants, closing around his balls and a part of his dick. It takes effort to bite back a whimper at finally feeling him, thick and hot and heavy in your hand, after all those weeks that you’ve been here and tried to figure out what the right move was. You hold his eyes defiantly, lips parted as you’d like to use your words but they all seem stuck in your throat.

His surprised intake of air when you grab him is immediate, and he looks frazzled as he shakes his head, tugging your hand abruptly away from his cock. “You out of your damn mind?”, he hisses, looking more than just a little flustered. “In front of everyfuckingbody?”

“So come insi—” The words die on your tongue when you suddenly see your mom approaching from a couple of feet behind Joel, unaware of what’s happening between the two of you, but apparently in search of you as she calls your name. Joel and you immediately step away from each other, him leaning against the bar as he seems to need a moment to compose himself. You have even less time to plaster a smile on your face for your mother, so you just nod enthusiastically as she rambles at you about some person’s son you should come meet. Your heart feels like it’s hammering out of your chest as you force yourself to tell her that you’d love to meet them, bringing a smile to your mom’s face.

Just as you’re about to join her to meet this person, your mom pauses at the bar and puts her hand on Joel’s shoulder. “By the way, he said that he could use your help with moving that thing, if you have time? Think he’s inside, couldn’t find you,” she said, and Joel nods while humming something affirmatively. His eyes flit to you for a split second before he looks down at the bar again, and he seems to wait until the two of you have moved away until he goes inside.

You’re in a mild daze as you follow your mom through the crowd, performing the role you’re expected to play, while the moment that you grabbed Joel plays on repeat in your head. The gasp that spilled from his lips, the way he didn’t say “no” - just “in front of everybody?”, which was an entirely different thing, and frankly… he wasn’t wrong.

You can wait. Just that little bit longer. It’ll be so worth it.

Joel's outfit at the party (as a dress shirt and pants instead of a jumpsuit):

series masterlist | main masterlist

Thank you for reading, commenting or reblogging - I appreciate it so very much 🙏

🚨 Follow @longlongtime-updates + turn on notifs to see when the finale drops later this week!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut #dbf!joel miller #tlou au #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x you

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yahoo201027 · 1 year ago

Text

Day in Fandom History: December 2…

A Candy Kingdom Citizen named Root Beer Guy lives a mundane life and writes and thinks that he’s a detective until he sees what Finn and Jake did to Princess Bubblegum overnight and won’t stop until he gets to the bottom of this. “Root Beer Guy” premiered on this day, 10 Years Ago.

#Day in Fandom History #10 Years Ago #Adventure Time #Season 5 #Episode 43 #Root Beer Guy #Cartoon #Animation

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seattlesellie · 2 years ago

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not about love. (part 4 & final)

read: part one || part two || part three

pairing: college loser!ellie williams x fem!reader

synopsis: after ellie kisses someone else, you run. then, you run again. at the end? she finally fucking chases you.

warnings: some miscommunication, slight angst, alcohol & weed, mentions of homophobia (d slur), smut (mdni), oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), scissoring, top!ellie, bottom!reader, panties kink (?), mentions of strap, first time w ellie, love love love <3

authors note: i had so much fun writing this. i hope you guys like it. i’m still thinking about a short part five, but well see how it goes ˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴:

"(The Party & The After Party -The Weeknd)"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

---˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹---

it's funny, how guilt begins with a subtle tickle. it's delicate at first, ignited like a gentle caress down her throat. it is not like jealousy, that dawns on you with a thud right inside. for her, for ellie, it's almost like a whisper. it glides down her body, maneuvers its way around, and then it lands inside the pit of her stomach, making it churn, toss and twist from the insides out, like an ever erupting ticking bomb.

she shouldn't have kissed that girl, that, she knew. the answer to why, she truly doesn't know— don't ask her no stupid questions. she knew it was wrong when she slid her tongue down her throat, knew it was wrong when she took the back of her neck into her palm, and felt how wrong it was when she looked deep into her eyes, panting, with a ruby blush creeping up on her cheeks. it wasn't because you left, god knows she would have felt how wrong it was even if you didn't, but alas, you did. you did leave. and that's why right at this second— her brain was fuzzy, knuckles colored white, legs moving faster and faster with no control.

truly, what ellie did wasn't wrong, neither was it selfish. you weren't a couple, she didn't belong to you, and neither you to her. she was a free woman, and so were you. and yet, your imaginations told a completely different tale. the truest colors of your thoughts— ready to erupt and spill out of you as if tomorrow never came.

she must have bumped into at least twenty sweaty, inebriated bodies. the outside world seemed to move and twist in a blur, but her mind moved oh so slowly. it was as if walking to the bathroom, took her over two hours. in reality, it took exactly three minutes, until she bumped into one extraordinarily tall man.

he rocked a bleach blonde buzz cut, a red bandana on his forehead, and ridiculously tiny sunglasses.

"yo— williams!" he declared, stopping her right in her tracks. she looked up to face him, and he was much, much taller.

"dude, look" he said, pointing right at her face, grabbing the attention of his ridiculous looking, slightly shorter pal.

"that's the girl alison likes!" he shouted, and she could feel the beer stench creeping up in her nostrils, making them twist.

"bro, you must be something special, she almost bribed the shit out of kyle just to make you kiss her"

ellie looked around the corridor, her eyes darting from his face to the floor. people... want to kiss her? it made her feel proud, inflating her ego and making it swell hard in her chest. a second later, it completely wore off. she didn't give a fuck about people— not about most of them.

"yeah, hey dude" she huffed, her lips curling up to a shy smile.

"so tell me, williams— did you scissor on the floor?" he interrogated.

"really gotta go to the bathroom" she voiced.

"no dude, wait... let me ask, i’m fucking interested" he uttered, blocking her path and leaning against the cream-colored wall with his arm.

"do lesbians actually fucking scissor?" his shorter friend questioned.

ellie always had a short temper. it would creep up on her when she least expected it, jolting inside of her brain and making the vein on her forehead pop. lately, she's been listening to some guided meditation on youtube. angela, was the name of the lady who's gentle voice she would listen to every once in a while. "deep breath in, and let it out... think of the rain, pouring and pouring, tickling down your window... and let yourself breatheee..." ellie took a deep breath in, and exhaled.

"y'all should send me a video when you're done fucking"

yeah, fuck angela.

"move out of the fucking way man, i gotta piss" she raised her tone slightly. maybe angela's voice still rung in her ears, because she didn't even consider punching him in the face.

"not fucking moving, williams— c'mon, we wanna fucking know all about it"

ellie might have been shorter by several inches, but god knows she was much stronger. with a firm grip on his bicep, she exerted her power and effortlessly tossed him to the side.

"fucking dyke" he snickered.

"die asshole" she uttered, and flipped him off.

the bathroom seemed to be closer, and her pacing was steadier. she was going to talk to you, that's it.

she opened the door, and exhaled. she didn't even know she had been holding her breath. the coppery scent of cigarettes, and overwhelmingly sweet, citrusy bathroom incense tickled at her nose. four women stood in front of the broken mirror. a blonde one, a brunette, one with braids, and one with a big cap on her head. they either giggled at each other, or to themselves, ellie truly didn't care.

"is there anyone in the stalls?" she questioned in a low voice. they clearly couldn't hear, her words barely audible over the overwhelming music that blared from outside.

she cleared her throat, and tried again.

"are the stalls empty?"

the brunette turned around to face her, a radiant smile spreading across her face, revealing a row of gleaming teeth.

"i dunno" she huffed, and turned around to face the friend by her side.

"but you can—" she stifled a giggle, and then it erupted.

"piss on the floor" she quipped, earning herself the symphony of her friend's breathless, intoxicated laughter.

"great" ellie muttered under her breath. just great.

she turned around to face the stalls, and began.

one knock, two knocks— she felt that guilt twisting in her stomach again.

fuck it, she fully banged on the door. those girls left, after they side eyed her shameless, and walked off. if you were anywhere to be found in that bathroom, it was just the two of you now.

she propelled her foot forward at the door, it swung open, propelled by the force, creating a resounding bang against the wall, echoing twice. the air caressed her face, and she shivered. It was not the chill of the room that caused her tremor. what if you weren't there? what if you left?

the third stall's door she kicked as well, and she couldn't hide her disappointment anymore.

"fuck" she hissed.

the fourth one must be empty as well. she didn't exactly believe in luck. she kicked it, the door budged slightly, but it didn't fly open. it was locked.

you lifted your legs up to meet your chin, holding yourself together in a hug. you felt absolutely embarrassed. you knew you didn't have any right to get like this. the tears swelling up in your eyes and the mascara running all over your cheeks, clinging itself to the delicate skin, making it itch and burn had no right to even exist. she didn't belong to you.

she knocked on the door again.

"you in there?" she croaked. did you hear the guilt lacing her words? it was buried inside of her stomach, after all.

"no... i mean— fuck" you sniffled, bumping your palm on your forehead. "no?" really?

"open the door" she uttered.

silence.

"please?"

you wiped the tears from your eyes, and grabbed a piece of toilet paper to wipe the mascara running profusely, leaving dark, messy spots on your cheeks.

"i’m peeing, ellie— go away"

"no you're not, open the door"

she must have heard you sniff away your snot gathering on the tip of your nostrils.

"i just wanna talk" she quietly said, her voice just above a whisper. ellie stood there, her arm steady on the door, waiting for you to let her in.

"dont wanna" *sniff* "talk"

she took a deep breath. "im not moving. i could stay here all night" you knew she could.

"well..." *sniff* "so can i" you hiccuped.

"cool"

"cool" you repeated.

ellie turned her back away from the door, and leaned against it. three whole minutes of absolute silence had passed, neither of you talking, but so much left unsaid. when the image of ellie kissing that girl flashed inside of your brain, hitting you like a lighting bolt, you giggled to yourself.

"what's so funny?" she questioned, crossing her arms.

"shouldn't you be with your new girlfriend?"

that was it for you. no more hiding. if hurt was the main feeling your heart held just five minutes ago, it mixed around with the tangy, salty taste of jealousy now, laced with the spiciness of anger. you twisted the doorknob, and let it fly open, bumping against ellie's back, making her jump to the other side.

you truly couldn't care if she knew you were crying. what's the point of hiding anymore? who gives a fuck. perhaps— it was sudden wind of courage washing over you. most likely— it was the plastic cup filled with cheap vodka cranberry emptying out inside of your stomach. you placed the cup on the sink, and washed your hands. you didn't even glance at ellie, who stared at you in disbelief.

"what the fuck are you talking about?" she probed, her arms slapping down on her thighs.

"alison, duh"

ellie swallowed deeply.

"or arielle or... whatever the hell her name is" you glanced at yourself in the mirror, you looked like a mess. ellie thought you looked beautiful, she wanted to tell you the moment you came out of the building.

she didn't even know what to say, her eyes staring at the floor, attempting to keep it together.

"was the kiss nice?" you wiped your hand on your skirt.

"it looked nice. so hot!" you nudged her shoulder. every single word that came out of your mouth sounded like you had just run a marathon. they flowed out quick, and even the dumbest person alive would know you were talking out of pure jealousy. maybe ellie was even dumber than him.

"what's gotten into you?" she muttered.

"nothing! happy my best friend's gonna get finally ged laid.. god knows you needed it, el" you patted her head. oh, you were done for.

ellie's eyebrows rose. deep, deep breaths. she stood mute, letting you finish your little speech.

it was as if someone pinned up the apple's of your cheeks together and forced you to smile.

"how long has it been since you fucked?" you tilted your head. you didn't make eye contact, you just stared right between her eyebrows. if you looked at her, you'd have probably burst crying.

"let alone... kissed somebody"

ellies tongue brushed the side of her mouth, and her jaw clenched.

"why are you asking me this?"

you averted your gaze to the side, your breath caged in your throat.

"because were best friends, and best friends talk about these thing! and... you really needed to fucking get some pu—"

she moved closer. you couldn't not face her now. you looked into her eyes and god it fucking hurt. there it was again. dont cry, dont fucking cry.

"how long..." it was as if her eyes were chasing yours. look at me, look at me. "has it been for you?"

your entire face felt like it was fucking itching. your nails dug little crescent moons into your palms. her breath tickled your nose and you swore, you've never been this close to her. you tried focusing on her freckles, counting them inside of your mind, pretending to connect the dots in a thin line. it hurt knowing that she must have seen them this close up too.

"this isn't about me, so" you whispered. you wanted to sound assertive, and aggressive, but you failed miserably. you just sounded ridiculous and sad.

"i think it is" she whispered, too. matching you completely. her lips were so plump and they felt so close and—

"why did you cry?"

"i did not cry" is it really a lie, if she knows the truth already?

"tell me" god, she smelled like the most intoxicating thing in the world. your ellie. or not your ellie, just ellie.

"leave me alone" you mumbled.

"no"

"m'not leaving you alone"

you could kiss her now. you could feel her lips brush against yours and you could kiss her, and tell her everything she wants to know, because god knows she needs it.

you were a coward.

you left, and she didn't chase you. she was a coward too.

she needed a fucking blunt.

────────────

the air felt crisp and biting against her skin. the moon, obscured by thick clouds, offered only glimpses of its pale light. shadows danced and flickered, and the distant howl of the wind rung in her ears. the blunt was delicately held between her fingers, and wisps of smoke curled and swirled in the air around her. she took a leisurely drag, and sighed.

she wasn't new to being alone. she liked bathing in solace, surrounded by her thoughts. usually, it felt nice, and it calmed her down. you, you were anything but calming. being alone was like a sunny beach day. being with you was a storm. you made her palms sweat and her heart beat faster. sometimes, she swore she might have a heart attack. you were her best friend, but it never truly felt like it. best friends tell each other everything, best friends hug and they hold each others hands. best friends dont disappear when the sun sets because they are afraid of what might happen in the dark, and they certainly don't feel like there's no more air left to breathe when they're around each other. they dont touch themselves thinking of each other, and their world doesn't crush upon them when they show interest in other people.

she wasn't your best friend, and neither were you her's.

ellie takes another hit. then, she remembers that one day in tenth grade. you both walked home from school, and you stopped right in your tracks. you asked her if she feels weird around you, if this peculiar feeling creeps up on her from time to time as well. when she asked you what you meant, you told her that sometimes it feels like she isn't your friend. that it feels like the universe has glued you two together, but not for the reason she thinks. when she asked you what you thought it was for, you shrugged, and told her that only time will tell. she felt her insides turn and her ears burned bright red. then, you sighed, and said; "maybe were soulmates" she had to stop herself from grinning, or fucking exploding, and her heart missed a beat. "platonic ones, obviously... maybe were not supposed to be best friends, just two souls who float around each other. you got any snacks? m'starving"

she flicks the blunt and the ashes fall down on the grass. she brings it to her lips again, and shuts her eyes close.

"ellie?"

she opens them fast and turns her head around. it takes her a moment to recognize, as the high washes over her body, but she finally sees.

alison.

"can i sit with you?" she asks while moving closer, and gives her a timid smile.

ellie clears her throat, and drags her body over to the side.

"sure"

the ginger sits next to her, and she relaxes her face.

they sit in silence for a moment.

"t'was a nice kiss" she whispers, and ellie looks at her from the corner of her eye. she should feel shy, and nervous being around the girl she had just kissed. for some reason, she doesn't.

"yeah..." ellie affirms.

"t'was"

the girl looks at the ground, and then looks at ellie again. she smiles, and breathes deeply.

"i wasn't the one you wanted to kiss though" she remarks, and lays her back comfortably against the bench.

"mmph— what do you mean?" ellie feels it now. the nervousness. it wasn’t there before.

"your friend" she bites her lip. she's not looking at ellie anymore, she's staring at the ground.

"what... friend?"

"the one who ran off"

ellie doesn't speak, just brings her lips to form a tight line. was it that... obvious?

"i mean... did you at least go after her? she asks, and she says it kindly, like she cares. weird.

ellie takes a second to respond. she considers denying it, running off just like you did. fuck it, she's high enough.

"yes" is all she mutters, and its quiet. she thinks this is the first time she ever talked about it out loud. only her journal knows, her brave soldier holding on to all of her little secrets, and now, alison knows too.

"and... did something happen?"

she wishes something did.

"no she— she ran off. again, so" she takes another drag, and it burns in her throat. she needs a glass of water, a cool one. maybe she needs a bucket to fall on her head too.

"and you didn't chase her?" the girl questions again. ellie feels like she's being interrogated. for some reason she doesn't even begin to understand, she feels relieved in a way, too. who knew talking could be so... nice. maybe its the high, she wonders.

"she clearly... doesn't want me around so— why would i chase her" that sentence carried a sadness to it. her voice broke when she spoke, and she feels like slapping herself across the cheek. she offers alison the blunt, and the girl takes it in between her fingers, and nods.

"so you just... let her go?"

ellie doesn't respond. she wants her blunt back. talking isn't nice, she decides.

"can i ask you a personal question?" alison takes a drag before ellie responds.

"you already sort of did so, be my guest"

"are you in love with her?"

ellie's breath hitches inside her throat, and she feels like digging a hole in the ground and burying herself inside. she knew she was, but it didn't fucking matter. you weren't in love, and that was that.

"people in this college are fucking weird, man" she comments, and in one second she has the blunt right between her fingers again. finally.

"yeah... heard this crazy girl banged up on all of the bathroom doors and started kicking the stalls"

"ah" she huffs.

"touché"

its silent for a second before she asks her again.

"what do you feel when you're around her?"

"are you a psych major by any chance?" she questions, narrowing her eyes.

"yep. so, let me psychoanalyze you. pretend its for my... project or something. i ask you questions, you respond... and then i get a super good grade thanks to you"

she bites her lips, and looks to the side. she considers hiding herself inside of the bush till the girl goes away.

"i'm your therapist, go 'head"

ellie rolls her eyes, and considers. fucking fuck it. maybe writing this shit on paper isn't enough.

"i feel like i can't breathe around her, sometimes. like... there's this fucking thing"

"what thing?"

"fucking... god... thing it’s a fucking thing. i have to stop myself from doing shit... s'fucking stupid."

alison smiles. and she nudges ellie on and on till she speaks again.

"its like— every time i'm fucking around her, it physically hurts me... that I ca— that I can't fucking have her. or that... it like, tingles in my fucking hands. and my fucking heart starts beating and my brain goes all foggy and I feel like I'm going to fucking faint. I want to be around her, I fucking want to— but every time she's next to me I feel like im gonna vomit. and she makes me fucking sick and I just wanna hold her and..."

she's never breathed so deeply in her life.

"that's... a lot" alison mutters.

"yeah..." ellie takes another drag, and barely exhales.

"doesn't fucking matter anyways. she doesn't see me that way."

alison's eyebrows rise up, and she looks at ellie like she's fucking stupid.

"ellie... she saw you kiss me and she fucking ran away. like, she physically ran away. are you blind? or are you stupid?"

"did you just call me stupid?" ellie huffs. was she? was she stupid?

"listen to me" she begins, and forces ellie to look her in the eyes.

"it's like..." the girl takes a peak at her iphone screen.

"1:30am."

"okay?" ellie huffs. her stomach's turning again.

"you're in love with this girl, and if you don't go after her right now it's gonna be too late"

"i can go tomorrow" ellie whispers. she won't. shed go back to her old habits of hiding and pining till her brain burns.

"you won't"

"fuck" she mutters under her breath.

"go!" the girl yells, and nudges ellie's arm.

"okay like— right fucking now?" ellie says loudly, and she feels her feet fucking lifting her up off of the bench, like she again, has no control over her body.

"right now, go!"

she curses herself out under her breath. fuck. it.

ellie starts running, and running, and running, and her shoes are meeting the ground with loud bangs, flopping up and down against her ass. she didn't to track in high school, but if coach charlie saw her now, he'd sign her up and shed get a full fucking athlete's scholarship. she feels her heart thudding in her ears, and she has no time to even think. what the fuck is she doing? where is she going? what if you'll tell her to go the fuck away? what if she's delusional, completely braindead, she wonders to herself for a tiny second, as she catches her breath.

and then— the image of you, mascara running down your cheeks flashes in her brain.

you cried, because she kissed another fucking girl.

"m'not— fucking" she pants,

"delusional"

she's standing right in front of rockefeller housing. brown cobblestone, as if each brick and mortar had witnessed countless stories unfold within its hallowed halls. she gets a hold of herself, before her heart punctuates in her chest, and stands still, chest heaving up and down. she looks up at your room's window, and its standing lit. you're still awake. she feels like she just won the fucking lottery.

she almost whoo hoo's! but she's way too "cool" for that. so she walks slowly, pats herself on the shoulder, and yells a loud;

"fuck yes!"

"shut the fuck up!"

oh shit. she just woke someone up.

────────────

how corny was it to lounge inside of your room, alone, the mellow tunes of lana's "ultraviolence" playing from your antique turntable?

very corny.

but you didn't mind. your tears had dried up already, and you were comfy in pretty white silk pajama's, a bowl of cheddar popcorn and that same goddamn boxed wine.

someone just screamed a terrifyingly loud "shut the fuck up!" from outside of your window. you'd have laughed, usually, but your mind was occupied. you felt tortured, and sickly, and why the fuck did you leave like that? it was embarrassing, truly, she watched you cry, and you interrogated her with bizarre, passive aggressive questions that would make the calmest man alive want to bash his head against the wall.

"breakfast at tiffanys" played on the television, and cat just ran away. you pouted, and sighed deeply. you were too tired now, and your eyelids felt heavy. you lifted yourself off of the bed, and made your way to turn off the lights, and drift away.

knock knock knock.

who the fuck is knocking at your door at 2am? it must be your roommate, jen, returning from the party.

you twist the doorknob, and yawn.

oh god.

"ellie?"

she gulps. she looks down on the floor, and up at you again. she looks absolutely panicked, and her bangs are sticking to her forehead. three of her hair strands formed a sweet little heart shape filled with sweat. her hand is shaking and she would have pounced right on you and fucking kissed you already if she had the fucking courage—

you step back.

"what are you doing here?" you quip, and your voice is so small and sweet that it truly kills her inside.

"i would've—" she takes a small step and enters inside of your room. she looks around, and the candles and the fucking lana playing in the background and she's sure she's gonna be sick because you're so fucking cute and your eyes are puffy and lips all swollen like they had been stung by a bee, and she wants to be your medicine and kiss them so hard you fall on the floor, but all she can mutter is;

"fucking brought you something... but it was all closed— all the fucking stores were closed because its the middle of the fucking night"

"what stores... wha— what are you talking about?" you whisper as you take a step back, you want to offer her a glass of water because she's sweating but you just can't.

"fuck— fucking flower shop or something, or those fucking chocolate covered fruits you like or—“

"what?" you mutter, breathless as if you were the one who just ran a marathon.

"you cried" she points a finger at you. you back away, taking a small step to further yourself away from her.

"you cried because i kissed another girl" she huffs, and her eyebrows scrunch together.

"I didn't—" you try and interrupt, unsuccessfully.

"you cried and that means that you fucking— you dont want me to kiss other girls"

you bite your lip so hard it feels like it might start drawing blood and run all over your chin. oh no.

"you want me to kiss— fuck it"

a supernova. as a dying star unleashes its final act, igniting in like a cosmic firework, it paints the galaxy like a canvas. shades of ruby red, sapphire blue, and shimmering gold intermingle together and create the most beautiful piece of art the universe has ever witnesses.

that's what it felt like when her lips were on yours.

they brushed up against you as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and perhaps it was.

when you imagined your first kiss with ellie, convinced you were indulging yourself in pure delusion, you thought it would be soft, and gentle. it felt as if her lips were running away from yours, and you had to chase them to meet against you again.

this kiss, was anything but. so perhaps you were delusional, but not in the heartbreaking way.

when her tongue first met yours, intertwining itself so perfectly, swirling around fervently inside of your mouth, bumping into your teeth and pulling you in, her lips sucking on it like she'd die if you ever pulled back, gentle was the last word you could use to describe it.

hungry, and ravenous, it was.

her knees felt like the were going to give up beneath her, and leave her a crumpled mess on the floor. if she thought that being around you felt like her heart was thudding out of her chest, kissing you was much, much worse. kissing you made her feel like her heart left her already, and leaped right into your being.

she broke the kiss first, refusing to open her eyes. so did you, you couldn't believe it was actually happening.

"you..." she whispered, and her breath tickled your nose.

"i..." you whispered in response. there were no words you could mutter, they would never come out coherent enough.

"ive..." she huffed.

"wanted to do this for so fucking—"

you brought your lips together to meet again. this time, it was softer, and gentle, but you didn't have to chase her away, because she stayed.

"me too" you whispered, or fully whined, you truly didn't know.

"no you dont..."

"you dont understand" she cupped your cheeks between her palms, she wouldn't even open her eyes, afraid of what she might do if she opened them and realized it was only just a dream.

"i do" you plead. her hands were warm and your cheeks were scorching hot against them.

"i need you"

"you need me?"

"it hurts"

"what hurts?" she whispered as she brushed her finger on your cheek. it was delicate, and soft.

"my heart" you hiccuped, a broken sob escaping your lips. you couldn't hold it in anymore, and a fat tear streamlined down your face, like a little river, rolling down inside of ellie's palm.

she wanted to kiss you again, but she had to hear you say it.

"when i'm... not with you— when i can't... and when you kissed her" you sobbed. "it hurt so bad"

"it hurt me too"

"please kiss me aga—“

so she did. again, and again, and again, till your throat felt dry and you kept seeing stars erupting inside of your brain.

chest against chest, heaving up and down on each other, she caressed your waist, and pulled you closer. when the kissed deepened again, you moaned, and it got swallowed inside of her mouth.

"you can't do that or i won't... fuck— won't be able to fucking stop"

"do what?" you asked, your bottom lip still brushing against her top one.

"can't make those sounds"

"w— why?" your chest caressed her's, and it was ellie's turn to let out a deep grunt.

"because ive thought... ive wa— i think about you all the fucking time like this"

"me too..." you admitted, breathing in her scent.

she wanted to ask you exactly what you thought about. she wanted to hear you say it, in exact, firm sentences. do you touch yourself thinking about her too? that would make her fucking lose her mind. instead, she took you in her arms, and banged you up against the wall.

thud "oh god" you hiccuped.

"yeah?" she teased, breathless. she wanted to do it better, wanted to sound more firm and stern and make you beg and tell her and whine on the floor but she was too fucking desperate for that right now.

"m'gonna— fuck" she hissed, when your tits grazed her's again.

"is this happening?" she whispered, and held your waist so tight in her arms. her body heat against yours made you completely shiver. she traced small circles on your hips but when you bucked forward her hands started shaking. she traced squares, or squiggly lines, or full on octagons.

"it's happening" you whispered back, and every time her lips brushed against yours it reminded you of how real everything was.

"can i touch you?"

"please" you whined, and you felt the saliva gathering and pooling on your bottom lip, mixing with hers.

ellie brushed her forehead against yours. she caressed it up and down, she needed to feel how your skin felt against her's because god knows she's truly spent so much time thinking about it and it didn't feel real, she needed it to feel real, so she begged;

"open your eyes"

you did. they fluttered open as your lashes flickered up and down and she chased you with her eyes again, until they directly met her's.

"tell me how bad you need this"

you gulped harshly, and it made a soft little sound. you felt absolutely limp against her, like you could crush down on the floor at any given moment.

she never thought she'd hear those words, outside of her dreamworld, sound asleep at 4am.

"i need— ellie i need it so bad" you whimpered, and she felt it twitch inside her fucking boxers, but felt it tug at her heart even more. how could have she been so fucking blind?

she opened her mouth, and she almost kept her eyes open whilst she kissed you because she needed to fucking see everything. she needed to see your eyebrows squint and your eyes close shut, your breath hitch and your hand drop from her shoulder, and then go up to grab her shoulder again and squeeze.

ellie, ellie couldn't help it anymore.

she caressed her hand up from the navel of your stomach, slowly grazing her finger up and up and up, till they met your breast and fuck she wanted to ask you if it was okay but the way you moaned inside of her mouth when she gave the cup a little squeeze, signaled her that she could do whatever the hell she wanted because you've always. been. her's.

as her tongue swirled with yours, warm saliva practically running out and streamlining from the corner of her mouth, she grazed her finger on top of your clothed nipple.

she separated her lips from yours, and moved her head back to look at you.

"you know how fucking crazy you drive me?" she pecked your lips forcefully and they made a smacking sound. you smirked, your eyes still glossy from the previous tear that escaped, and she nearly lost her damn mind.

"dont fucking smirk at me like that..." she kissed your jaw, making your entire body clench. "always fucking teasing me" kiss "always making me think..." kiss "i'll never fucking get it" kiss "driving me fucking crazy with those little fucking tops" kiss "those short fucking skirts" kiss

fuck.

"just wanted you to s— see, ellie..."

she tilted her head, and smiled so big and blushed so hard you nearly cried again.

"can i... can i take your shirt off?

you nodded up and down and fervently, like if you didn't show her exactly how bad you needed her she'll never fucking get it. old habits die hard.

she pulled the strap of your tank top off, and it slid down your shoulder. she let out a shaky breath. she's thought of seeing you bare in front of her way too many times than she'd like to admit. she saw the tip of your hard nipples poking out of the material and her breath hitched, borderline on wheezing. she delicately grazed her finger on it, stopping herself from pinching it and twisting and pulling like she always fucking wanted to. she had to go slow, she had to savor this moment.

you couldn't go slow.

you lifted your top off and ditched it on the floor. she was faced with your tits and she nearly damn went cross eyed. holy fucking shit.

"holy fuck" she hissed, her chest heaving up and down. her boxers were entierly drenched by now and she hasn't even touched them, until now.

she grabbed them with her calloused hands and squeezed them together, making them meet and form a natural cleavage. when she exhaled, a soft sound escaped her throat. it sounded like a quiet howl, or a harsh whimper.

"need to fucking taste" she growled, and your panties felt warm inside, and it tingled, that familiar yet completely different feeling washed over your cunt, as soon as her drooling, wet mouth was on your nipples, twisting and swirling her tongue against the sensitive buds, sucking and taking them out of her mouth with plop sounds, and every time she felt you squirm she moaned against them, her mouth fully vibrating on your nipples.

she detached her lips, just to look up at you with a lovedrunk smile adorning her face. she looked absolutely high on your body and you didn't even notice... that you started grinding up against her, bucking your hips inwards and backwards every time her head bobbed up and down on your tits.

"what am i..." she pulled your nipple in her finger, twisting it from side to side, making you nearly scream. you slapped your hand on your mouth, because if you didn’t— you’d fully get a stern note from the other residents tomorrow morning. "going to fucking do with you?"

"i think you know... ellie" you hiccuped.

"say my name again" she groaned, forcefully grabbing your tits now. she shook them up and down, and parted your thighs with her leg.

"ellie..." you whimpered, completely gasping for air.

"again"

"ellie!"

"fuck yes..."

her ongoing imaginations of you whimpering her name had absolutely nothing on the real deal. she picked you up, her hands grasping your thighs, and laid you on the bed. laid, would be a gentle way to say it. she practically tossed you on it, making the mattress jump up and down and creak slightly. she laid her body on top of yours, and her chest felt strong and steady, except for two perky mounds that connected directly with yours.

"please take your shirt off" you pled.

"take it off of me" she hissed, planting another sweet, sweet kiss on your breasts. she was fucking obsessed with them, and she wasn't afraid to show it now. it’s funny, how a only a week ago, she had to contemplate having her eyeballs surgically removed because she couldn’t stop her eyes from darting up and down. she could actually adore them now, and she felt it deep in her lower abdomen.

you tugged at the bottom of her top, hastily attempting to take it off fast because you yearned to see her so bad it almost hurt, but she palmed your hands and stopped you fully.

"nuh uh" she warned.

"slowly..."

you look up at her, doe eyed and begging. your breath caged in your throat, because this is real. it fucking hit you again.

when she saw you look up, it tugged at the strings of her heart.

she kisses you, and it feels like something you've never felt before. it feels warm, and it feels like fucking love. it was as if you became liquid, what was once solid, and hard, melted into a sweet puddle of warm honey.

she wants to take your shorts off already, but she stops herself. she looks you deep in the eyes, and her cheeks bloom red. she's in love.

and she knows you are too.

would it be awfully corny if she told you she wanted to make love to you? it probably would. for some reason, she didn’t need to vocalize it.

now, it was her eyes who turned glassy, making the emerald green glisten and twinkle.

"i need to..." you dont respond, you just do what she needs you to do.

you take your shorts off, and ellie simply stares down, panting, as her heart thuds inside of her chest. the way she looks, like she's absolutely famished, makes your clit pump inside of your panties that it terrifies you if she actually sees.

you shyly cover up, and she smiles gently as she grabs your wrists to peel them off of the soft, now sticky fabric.

"dont be shy..." she whispers, and when she see's the wet patch that formed, that pooled down just where your tight hole is, her face twists and she bites her lips. when she looked up at you, you turned your head to the side.

"look at that..." she chuckles, and it's fucking hypoctirical, the way she's mocking— because she has a spot even bigger on the bottom of her boxers, except she's fucking dressed and youre not.

"need to kiss it..." she desperately says, her voice low and raspy.

"need you to tell me..." she kisses your tummy, softly, as it heaves up and down. "to kiss it..." with every breath that leaves her, she kisses it again, her tongue now poking out of her mouth.

"mm— cant" you whimper. when did you become so shy?

"please" she begs, as her kisses become more wet, leaving little trails and puddles of saliva on your stomach.

"ellie..." you hiccup, feeling as if you could cum just by grinding your crotch back and forth against the air. her words are more than enough.

"say it..." she pleads, and it gets absolutely ridicilous— who's begging who now?

"please kiss— god" she simply palms your cunt, right on your panties, her warmth mixing with yours, and an incredibly loud, high pitched moan, closer to a screech leaves your mouth. the sound makes her groan into your stomach, moving her kisses further and further down. with each kiss, your body grows warmer, a certain tremor adding to your sudden jolts.

when she's face to face with your cunt, directly gazing at the wet spot, she closes her eyes shut, and plants a soft kiss upon the wet material. she's thought about doing this so many times, she has to stop herself from sneaking her hand down her boxers and start grinding up and down on it, and cum simply from just smelling you, as her nose bumps directly on your clit.

she wants to see it bad, those slick beautiful folds she had imagine so many times, the little bud poking on top, but she can't help but notice how greedy and eager you get when she teases you. she can't help but notice those cute little sounds that escape your throat, the way your eyebrows squint together and a small v shaped line forms on your forehead.

she gives a soft, kitten lick over the material, and you completely jump upwards. "ellie! fuck!" you moan, and she swears its the most heavenly sound she's ever heard. "that's it... grind yourself up against me... just like that"

you grind against her eager mouth, her tongue making the fabric transform into almost full sheerness, clinging and sticking to your cunt, every time ellie drools on it a little more.

"fuck m'gonna!— cum... ellie!" you hiccup and wheeze, and she can't help but pull your hips, move you closer to her mouth, as your thighs completely close and clench around her neck. but she doesn't fucking care.

she's going to make you cum all over your fucking panties.

she needs it. she yearns for it.

she bumps her tongue harder and flattens it against your clit, grinding you down, completely controlled by the very movements of her hands, guiding your through it and forcing you to keep moving against her.

it's closer, and closer, the white pleasure taking over your entire body, and you start shaking against her—

"cum for me... that's it" she whimpers, "cum hard all over my— fuck, my fucking face"

you barely even have time to recover, still completely sensitive, your entire body shaking when she takes off your panties, sniffs them shamelessly, and shoves them in her pocket.

"what are you d— doing?" you hiccup.

"dont worry about it" she mutters, and her entire face flushes red.

you dont, so instead, you beg for her to let you come again. she doesn’t, for now, and it was pure evil.

ellie's jaw clenches when she's face to face with your weeping pussy. her breath caged in her throat, and she lets out a high pitched, animalistic moan, followed by an adorable twist to her face. she's imagined it too many fucking times.

she'd tell you, but she's afraid to come off as pathetic.

slowly, agonizingly slow, with the intention to savor this moment, she places a soft, sweet little kiss on your cunt. you jump, and call out her name. she places another one, and another one, right on your achy clit. before she indulges herself in the first taste, she looks up at you.

"you're so beautiful" she whispers. and you know how bad she means it, because it comes out shaky, and you can taste how sweet those words are and really they’re just words.

you nearly die.

"and so fucking wet"

you nearly cum.

"mmph— ellie, please" you breathe. "pleasepleaseplease"

she doesn't need to hear any more of it, before her tongue laps up the sweet nectar of your pussy, starting with your hole, collecting the juice with the bottom of her tongue, curling it, and swallowing. "taste so fucking good"... she mutters. "knew you would"

she truly, truly did.

ellie slowly begins circling your clit with her tongue, in soft, little motions that focus right on your aching bud. one of her hands is squeezing your thigh, as the other creeps up slowly to grab your breast and toy with the nipple. its so fucking soft inside of her mouth that she can't help but grind herself down on the bed, the cream that formed inside of her boxers making it easy to slide backwards and inwards, and she releases sweet, desperate moans inside of your pussy every time it hits her clit.

when ellie feels you clench your hole in and out, she spreads your pussy lips apart, spits a big glob of saliva on top of your clit, making it slide all the way down to your hole.

"need to fill you up, fuck" she growls, and before you know it, her tongue is on you again, and her finger is teasing and begging your hole to let her in.

"baby" she coos, "let go for me"

"c— cant!" you cry out. its all too much, and you feel so embarrassed that you won't stop clenching, till she looks up at you again.

"breathe... it's okay" she whispers, "i'll be gentle, i fucking promise"

when you breathe in for her, she grits her teeth. fucking finally. she slides her finger inside, so slow you regret ever making her think you'd want it gentle, so you grind up on it, bringing your body forward so it swallows her finger whole.

"god damn" she hisses, and her voice is higher pitched because she can't fucking believe it.

she wants to whore you the fuck out, but she needs to be gentle for now. she considers… for just a mere second, to sprint to her room, grab her strap and split you whole, but she stops herself. she genuinely needs to grab her fucking knee so she doesn’t move away and lose control entirely.

she pumps it inside, lost in the feeling of your gummy walls squeezing her in, over and over again, lapping up on your clit, and when she feels you clench again, coming closer and closer to the edge, she adds a second finger.

"so fucking tight... you're so fucking tight" she says, and pushes your thighs up to your chest, your entire body shaking against her. you whimper and squeak and cry, babbling incoherently while she's scissoring them inside of you, grunting deep inside of your pussy every time your moans grow louder and louder.

the mattress seems to bump on her clit harder now, and ellie completely stops.

she hastily pulls her pants down, alongside with her boxers, and before you even have time to react to the sight of her cunt or her thighs or the abs that you're now exposed to (you honest to god, have no idea when she even managed to take her shirt off), she pulls your thigh high up, and places your leg on her shoulder.

"you're gonna cum on me— you hear that?" she hisses, when her weeping pussy meets yours. "yes ellie!" you hiccup, "louder"

"mmm—ellie— can'— need to cum on you"

"you wanna fucking cum on me?" she babbles back, and it comes out so messy and pussydrunk that she doesn't even reply back when you cry out with your forehead against her shoulder, biting on it hard, too intoxicated by your little moans and the feeling of your weeping, sticky pussy against hers, bumping her clit and it almost fucking burns inside of her.

she separates your legs further apart, and her gaze burns through you. her eyes are still green, and its still fucking ellie— but they turn a shade darker. she grinds against you forcefully, making your clit bump on her’s, your love-fluids mixing together and creating the most absolutely obscene noises that little dorm room has ever heard. when you close your eyes, because it’s all too much and she’s grunting and whimpering against you, she takes your cheeks in her hands and squeezes.

“look at me. look at me” she begs, and you keep blurting out tiny little squeals of pleasure that she cant help but let out a breathy laugh, and she wants to slap you and hear you squirm even harder but fuck— she’s gonna cum and she can’t even make her hands fucking work, so she just grabs your tits together as she grinds harder and harder, her ass jiggling up and down as she takes you.

“you’re so fucking— goddamn— so fucking cute you’re so fucking pretty”

"m'gonna cum!" you blabber, you brain entirely empty, only filled with the image of ellie's mouth hung completely open, letting out a beautiful symphony of moans, screaming and grunting your name and begging you to fucking take her, and when the tears stream down your face she can't help but wonder... how needy you'd look with her strap buried deep and when the thought hits her— when she imagined the way your hole would take her right inside, the way it would gape after she'd take it out, makes her cum so hard against your pussy that she almost, almost passes out.

when you cum, a second after she does, you tell her that you love her.

when she hears it, a small whimper escapes her lips, and it sounds almost like a sob.

"ive always fucking loved you"

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou #ellie tlou2 #the last of us #wlw #lesbian #fanfiction

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 11 months ago

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a/n: i know the game and fight were like two weeks ago but i couldn’t stop thinking about it lol. just a fun little thing - enjoy! (and literally as i go to post this, bb gets added back to the skills comp as he should’ve been in the first place so go defend your fastest skater title, mat😘)

word count: 4.5k

tw: oral (m recieving), cursing, chicago blackhawks slander, dirty talk

summary: after mat’s fight during the blackhawks game, you’re both worked up with extra energy to get out of your systems

“Fuck you!” You jump to your feet, screaming, adrenaline rushing through your veins. “Go fuck yourself!” Your stomach turns watching Mat fight, but you also can’t ignore the throb between your legs.

Unconcerned with the fact that you’re solidly in enemy territory, your shouting gets louder and louder. Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch Mat scrap with Chicago’s number 43. Mat shifts and drops Blackwell to the ice, the refs and the other players skating over quickly.

“That’s right,” you crow, the people around you starting to boo. “Get fucking wrecked!”

Mat skates off, helmet gone, hair flattened to his head and jersey half off. He scowls and tugs the jersey back over his head and you pump your fists in the air. “That’s my man!” You jump up and down, flipping off a few Chicago fans that are shouting at you.

“Girl,” Alexa, Noah’s girlfriend, tugs at the hem of your vintage Islanders sweatshirt, laughing, “you’re going to get us killed. Sit down!”

You drop back down into your seat and shoot her a grin, “what a way to go out though!” You laugh and take a sip of your beer, turning in your seat when a Chicago fan a few seats down leans over to shout at you.

“Real classy behavior, lady,” he sneers and you flip him off with a bright smile.

“God, where to even start with the classy as hell Chicago Blackhawks organization?” You tap at your lower lip thoughtfully. “Patrick Kane? Jonathan Towes? Corey Perry? So many options to choose from.”

“Gonna bring up shit that doesn’t mean anything?” The man snaps.

You lean halfway out of your seat, getting a little louder, “your team sucks ass from top to bottom.”

“Suck my dick, bitch.”

Alexa coughs into her drink and you shrug at the man, shouting, “at least I’m supporting a team that hasn’t been sued twice for covering up sexual assault.”

“Oh my god,” Alexa mutters, covering her face.

“Fuck off, bitch,” a second man, sitting next to the first, shouts at you.

With a little three fingered wave at the men, you turn back to the ice, settling into your seat. “Oh, I love when men can only think to call me a bitch in the face of actual facts,” you sigh, heartbeat still pounding from Mat’s fight and the confrontation.

A few Chicago fans in the general vicinity are looking at you, booing and flipping you off. You return the gestures happily, with a sarcastic smile on your face.

“You’re batshit insane,” Alexa says, looking impressed and a little awed. “I’m terrified of you.”

You knock her shoulder with yours and tease, “as long as you love me more than you’re terrified of me.”

“Jury’s still out,” she snorts.

The game ends in tragic fashion during overtime, but you’re still so proud of Mat, buzzing with energy to see him when he gets back to the hotel. You and Alexa had booked a room in the same hotel the boys were staying at, spontaneously deciding to take the trip to see the boys play since neither of you had been to Chicago. The team flies back to Long Island tomorrow afternoon and your flight leaves just a few hours later, so you’ve got a few hours with Mat tonight before you have to go back to your own rooms, knowing he’ll have left packing to the last possible second.

Alexa’s lounging on her bed, scrolling through her phone, when there’s a knock on the door. You jump up from your spot on your bed and rush to the door, yanking it open and nearly knocking Noah out of the way in your hurry to jump into Mat’s arms. He laughs and catches you easily, wrapping his arms around your lower back as your legs hook around his waist.

“First career fight?” You grin at him, peppering his face with kisses. “So fucking hot, baby.”

“Y’know,” Noah comments dryly from behind you, “I had assists on two of our goals.”

You turn your head and grin at him, “you want a kiss too?” Mat’s hands grope at your ass, pulling you tighter over the growing bulge in his jeans. You wriggle happily over him, enjoying the low groan that vibrates against your shoulder.

“Not from you,” Noah laughs, dropping a kiss to the top of Alexa’s head. She snuggles up against his side and laughs a little.

“Let’s get out of here,” she says, “before these two forget they’re not alone.” Shooting you a wink, she grabs Noah’s hand and drags him out of the room, the door falling shut behind them.

“Thank god,” Mat huffs, leaning his forehead against your collarbone. You kiss the top of his head, rubbing your fingertips into his scalp. “I’ve been waiting to see you all night.”

“Well you’ve got me for the next few hours, completely uninterrupted,” you reply, holding onto him like a koala. “Let me see your face, I need to make sure no damage was done.”

Mat pulls away from you, grinning that crooked grin you love so much. He looks a little tired, but the only damage from the fight is a cut on the bridge of his nose and a little cut on his forehead. Not nearly as bad as you were thinking. “Do I pass inspection?” He teases, bouncing you a little in his arms.

You hum, “you’ll do,” before kissing the tip of his nose and then slanting your lips over his. Mat deepens the kiss, licking over your lower lip so your mouth will fall open. You groan into his mouth, grinding your hips down over his erection. The kiss is a little frantic, all teeth and tongue, and you’re out of breath when you break apart. “Put me down, I wanna reward you,” you pant, unhooking your legs from around his waist and letting them fall to the floor.

“What?” Mat’s mouth is back on yours, arms still wrapped tightly around your back, your chest pressed to his. You wiggle against him, grinding your hips over his, more than happy to feel him harden under you.

“Wanna - mmmph-“ your words are muffled by Mat’s mouth, captured by his lips and tongue. You pull back with a huge effort, palms flat on his shoulders for leverage. “Wanna suck you off,” you murmur, Mat’s hands trailing up the back of your shirt, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip and tugging at it.

“Yeah?” Mat asks, eyelids heavy over his eyes. He shifts and wedges his leg in between yours, pressing his muscled thigh right up against your throbbing cunt. You whine and your hips move over his leg, the seam of your jeans pressed exactly where you need it. “Wanna suck my dick, baby? What if I wanna watch you get off on my thigh?”

“C’mon, Mat,” your voice comes out breathy, “been wanting to suck you off since you fought. I’ve been soaked thinking about it.” You grind over his thigh as you plead, knowing you’ve won the upper hand when Mat’s fingers dip below the waistband of your jeans to squeeze your ass.

He sucks a mark into the skin behind your ear and you sigh. “Me fighting got you all hot and bothered?” He asks the question against your skin, brushing his nose against your earlobe and you nod.

“Beyond fucking hot, Mat,” you scratch your nails against the nape of his neck. “Glad I got to see it.”

You wiggle again and a little whine forms in the back of your throat. Mat’s mouth curls into a smile against your neck. “Love it when you beg,” he says, a little hoarse. “My girl is begging to suck my cock, what’s fucking better than that?”

“Actually letting me suck your cock,” you gasp, Mat’s fingers digging harder into the flesh of your ass. “Let me, Mat, c’mon.”

He finally shifts his leg, planting his feet solidly, and you grin, breaking from his grip and falling to your knees in front of him. You’re eye level with the bulge behind the fly of his jeans and you grin up at him wickedly. You run your fingertips lightly over his zipper and feel his cock throbbing through the denim. “Can’t wait to get my mouth on you,” you smirk, fingers working at the button and zipper, pushing at the denim until you can trace your index finger over the imprint of his dick through the fabric of his briefs.

“Fuck!” Mat’s hips buck forward and he grabs at your hair with one hand, tangling his fingers in the strands. His cock twitches behind the fabric and you push his jeans and briefs halfway down his thighs, freeing his cock so it bobs up towards his stomach. You lean up on your knees to press a kiss to the head of his cock and Mat groans, grip on your hair tightening. “Baby, babe, please, don’t tease me,” he babbles, hips thrusting minutely.

“It’s a reward,” you grin up at him, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and squeezing slightly, “for fighting. Going to take my time with you.”

Your hand strokes him slowly, palm rubbing against his tip, gathering pre-cum and smearing it down his shaft. His cock throbs in your hand, in time with the way your clit throbs as you touch him. You shift on your knees, pressing the heel of your foot in between your legs and Mat doesn’t miss the movement.

“Going to get off just by touching my dick?” He teases, widening his stance and leaning his upper back against the wall. You hum, focused on getting him fully hard. It doesn’t take much work and within seconds, he’s like hot steel in your hand.

“We’ll just have to see,” you murmur, leaning in and taking the head of his cock into your mouth. A strangled moan leaves Mat’s lips and his hips start to thrust, forcing you to press both of your hands against his hips to keep him in place. You hum around him and swirl your tongue over his slit, enjoying the way he’s babbling your name over your head. He groans, the noise choking off as you take him deeper into your mouth, keeping your lips wrapped tightly around him.

Your nails rake over his skin, fingers sliding over the ridge of bone and then the smooth skin of his lower stomach, until you’re able to rub your fingertips through the light trail of hair under his belly button. You wrap one hand around the base of his cock and take him deeper, swallowing and enjoying the way Mat’s cock bobs in your mouth.

“Baby, come on,” Mat mumbles, “gotta go deeper. Let me fuck your throat. Wanna feel you swallow me.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, tears hovering at your waterline from the stretch of your jaw, and blink innocently at him. Your throat relaxes and he grins, looking a little dazed, when he realizes you’re giving him permission. His other hand comes up to cradle your face, releasing your hair with the other hand so he can hold your face in place while he thrusts his hips forward, sliding his cock deeper down your throat with each movement. The head of his cock bumps against the roof of your mouth, the back of your throat, slides against your tongue with his erratic thrusts.

Saliva drips down your chin, tears rolling down your cheeks. Mascara streaks down your face, stinging your eyes a little.

Mat’s head is dropped back as he rolls his hips, his mouth running constantly. You’re not even sure what he’s saying at this point, too focused on keeping your throat relaxed and not gagging around his thick length. Your hands grip at his ass, nails digging into his skin and he hisses, practically whining when you swallow and your throat tightens around his cock.

“Fuck, fuck. Jesus Christ, fuck me,” he groans. “Love how you look with my dick in your mouth, look so pretty.”

You moan around him, lifting up a little on your knees and leaning in, deep throating him until your nose is pressed against his skin, your chin tucked up against his balls. His scent - a little bit soapy, a little bit sweaty - invades your senses and you feel your panties dampen further. You shake your head a little, brushing the tip of your nose against his skin and Mat’s fingers tighten on your face, thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones.

“Gonna come, baby, gotta -“ he mutters, choking off. He leans his hips back a little, trying to pull out of your mouth, but you hold onto his ass, pulling him closer to your face. Mat grunts, his balls tightening under your chin before he comes down your throat, hot and thick.

You swallow for what feels like forever, Mat’s cock still thick and hard in your mouth. He finally pulls back and you drop down to sit on your heels, wiping at your mouth. Saliva and cum make your chin and hands sticky, but you grin cheekily up at your boyfriend. He looks wrecked, jaw slack and eyes nearly closed.

“Didn’t manage to come just from sucking you off,” you rasp, throat sore and voice hoarse. You reach up to gently stroke over his cock and he leans his hips forward, pushing into your grip.

“Bet that sweet pussy of yours is soaked for me, huh?” Mat says, reaching out to wrap his hands around your biceps and haul you to your feel, your hand falling away from his cock. With his grip on your arms, Mat crushes you to his chest, kissing you sloppily. His cock presses against your stomach, half-hard, and you press against it, making Mat groan into your mouth before he sucks on your tongue.

You hum against his mouth, melting against Mat’s chest. Your clit throbs and you clench around nothing, desperate for a little friction. “Mat,” you gasp his name a little and he knows exactly what you want. His hands slide up your arms and wrap gently around your neck and the back of your head, keeping your face close to his so he can kiss you while walking you backwards to the bed.

“Gonna fuck you so good, baby,” he murmurs into your mouth. You can feel his body vibrating with adrenaline and once the backs of your knees hit the mattress, Mat pulls back to quickly get rid of his clothes, kicking the fabric in all different directions with a a hungry look in his eyes that makes you giggle. Mat grins down at you and leans over your body, pressing his bare chest against your clothed one. “Regular post-game energy has nothing on post-fight energy,” he promises, nipping at your pulse point.

You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and roll your hips, pressing your cunt against his cock. “I can’t wait to find out,” you murmur, arching your back when his hands slide up your shirt to grope at your tits.

Just about an hour later, you roll off of Mat’s chest, sweating and panting like you’ve just run a marathon. “Fuck,” you breathe, thighs sticky and trembling.

Mat turns his head and gives you a lazy smirk, “told you.”

You kick a little at his ankle, shifting and shaking your head at the way your core is clenching around nothing, the feeling of Mat’s cock stuffed inside of you still present. “You need to get into fights more often,” you mumble, watching him wince as he pulls the used condom off of his dick. He twists a knot into the latex and rolls off the other side of the bed to pad into the bathroom. You blatantly stare at his ass, wolf-whistling when he bends slightly to toss the condom.

“I’m feeling very objectified,” Mat teases you, standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips. He tries to keep a straight face, but can’t help his lips from turning up at the corners. You drag your gaze over his body, from the top of his head, over his bare chest complete with chain resting against his collarbone, down to his dick hanging between his legs, and back up.

“Mmm,” you hum, still flat on your back, still shaking slightly. “It’s not my fault you’re so objectifiable. Maybe if you were uglier…”

You trail off into a shriek, body jostling when Mat pounces on the bed, covering your body with his and planting sloppy, wet kisses on every inch of your skin he can reach. “Nooo, stop! Oh my god, you know I’m ticklish,” you shriek-giggle, pushing at Mat’s shoulders, trying to wiggle out from under him. He keeps you caged in with his arms and legs, laughing.

“Gonna keep objectifying me, Squeaks?” He asks, marking you up with hickies across your neck and chest.

“Yessss,” you laugh, pressing your chest into his face. “It’s my favorite hobby.” You hook your leg around his hip and dig your heel into the muscle of his ass, getting him to thrust his pelvis forward, bumping against your clit. A spark of pleasure lights up your nerves.

“Cool,” he laughs, flicking his tongue over your nipple. “You can keep doing it after we get some food, I’m starving.” He bites at the underside of your breast and rolls off of you again, leaving you cold in the middle of the bed.

“What?” You sit up, watching him reach for his pants and dig his phone out of the pocket.

“We had like one slice of shitty Chicago pizza after the game,” Mat explains. “And then we rolled around in bed for an hour. I’m starving, babe.”

You’re about to complain, but as soon as you open your mouth, your stomach growls and Mat smirks at you. You huff, “okay, yeah. Let’s order some dinner.”

He turns back to his phone, tapping away at UberEats, and you flop back against the pillows, grabbing for your own phone where it rests on the bedside table. Once you’re settled, you rest your feet in Mat’s lap, his left hand landing on your ankle and thumb tracing an arc over your instep. You wiggle your toes and he pinches lightly at your skin. “What do you want?”

“Mozzarella sticks,” you say absently, gaze flickering onto your lock screen. It’s covered in notifications - the girls’ group chat, Twitter, Instagram, TikTok. What the hell is going on?

Another message comes in from Sydney, making your phone vibrate in your hand. Since you don’t have a password on your phone, you can see her message on the screen: she’s going to be banned from the arena 😂

Who’s going to be banned from the arena?

You tap open the group chat and scroll back to the top where the messages started half an hour ago. Holly sent a Twitter link followed by: our girl! 😂

A sinking feeling forms in your stomach, but you tap on the link, unsurprised when it opens up to a video. A video of you, just a few hours earlier, yelling at the game.

“Oh man,” you groan, watching yourself - filmed from an unflattering angle, of course - jumping and cheering for Mat, before turning and snapping at the Blackhawks fan.

“No mozzarella sticks?” Mat asks, mistaking what you had said as directed at him. He’s still scrolling through UberEats.

“No, um, yes,” you shake your head, looking up. “I do still want mozzarella sticks, but…”

You tap on the hashtag and start scrolling through Tweets, even as texts from the girls continue to roll in. The video is everywhere - Spittin’ Chiclets, B/R Open Ice, Barstool Sports. Fuck, even Frankie’s retweeted it, adding his typical all-caps word vomit captions: GOTTA GO THROUGH THE ISLAND OUR FANS ARE GREATER THAN ANYONE ELSE ANS READY TO GIVE YOU A VERBAL BITCH SLAP LOVE YOU LADY B

You roll your eyes at his caption, pulling the notification screen down and checking to see if he texted you too. He did - a string of cry-laughing emojis and clapping emojis.

“But what?” Mat finally drops his phone to the mattress and leans back on an elbow to look at you. “What are you looking at?”

You squint at him. “Have you not gotten any texts or notifications?” You ask, surprised that the guys’ group chat isn’t blowing up.

“Probably,” Mat shrugs, “my phone’s been on do not disturb since before my nap this afternoon. I wasn’t really thinking about looking. Why?”

You flip your phone around, showing him the screen. Mat squints at it, watching the video play for a few seconds before he lets out a chuckle of disbelief. “Is that you, Squeaks?”

“Yep,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I, um, got a little heated when you fought. Is Lou going to kill me?”

Mat’s got your phone in his hand now, scrolling through the Tweets and laughing. “No way, you don’t work for him. I don’t think he knows what Twitter is anyway.” He keeps scrolling. “Oh shit!”

“What?” You lunge forward and snatch at your phone. Mat pulls it back and clicks his tongue at you.

“Jeez, you gonna yell at me now too?” He jokes before reading the caption of a Tweet. “Listen to this ‘trashy Long Island fan berates Blackhawks fan.’ Babe, you freaked on the wrong fanbase.”

“I’m trashy?” You yelp indignantly. “Me? They’re the fans that are supporting an organization FULL of sexual abusers! Give me my phone, I want to defend myself.”

“No way!” Mat holds your phone in the air away from you. “Why expose yourself to more shit?”

“Because I’m not the one in the wrong here,” you grumble. “What are the guys saying? Does anyone know who I am? I mean, I wasn’t quiet about cheering for you.”

With your phone still in his hand, Mat picks up his own and taps over to the messages. “Oh, damn. Almost fifty texts from the guys.” He chuckles as he scrolls through them, reading you off the best ones. “Bo says to suit up for next game, we could use your passion. Dobber says two minutes in the box for unsportsmanlike conduct. Ah, nice, Frankie says pizzas are on him next time we’re at Borrelli’s.”

“Pizzas are always on Frankie,” you grumble, draping yourself over Mat’s back to read his phone screen over his shoulder. The guys are mostly sending more videos from different angles and chirping you. While Mat’s distracted by the group chat, you snatch your phone back, returning to Twitter where the fans have figured out your connection to Mat - it’s not like your relationship is a secret, your Twitter is public and your Instagram switches back and forth between public and private when you’re starting to feel overwhelmed - but you don’t love that you’re getting this kind of attention.

You really should’ve controlled yourself better. But you didn’t and now you’re scrolling through hundreds of Tweets that are calling you Long Island trash. There are others mixed in that are supporting you, cheering you on for being a loyal fan and girlfriend, but jeez. The Chicago fans really are kind of nasty.

“Stop looking at that,” Mat plucks the phone from your hands when he sees your forehead crease and wrinkle over your nose. “Are we gonna have to delete your account like Dobber?”

“No,” you huff, chest flushing with emotion. “I just…I should’ve been a little more controlled, but I got so worked up!”

Mat cups your cheek and grins at you, “I like when you’re worked up. It’ll blow over in a few days, but for now, it’s really fucking cool that my girlfriend is so passionate about me fighting.”

You wrinkle your nose up at him and he laughs again, “seriously, don’t worry about it.” He frowns a little. “Fans’ll be talking about our game again by tomorrow. We’re fucking it all up.”

Pressing your cheek against Mat’s shoulder blade, you wrap your arms around his waist. “I’m sorry, Mat. I know you guys are working so hard, things will turn around soon, I’m sure.” You press a kiss to his skin, blowing a little raspberry. “Want your trashy Long Island girlfriend to give you another blowjob?”

That draws a laugh from Mat, exactly what you wanted to do, and he reaches back to rub his fingers over your scalp, massaging gently. He waves his phone in the air, “think you can do it before dinner gets here?”

A challenge.

You grin against his back, hands sliding down his stomach to wrap around the base of his cock. He jolts in your grip, stomach muscles bunching. “Place the order and we’ll see,” you mumble against his back, kissing and biting at his shoulder. His arm moves and you can see over his shoulder that he’s pressing the order button.

“Time starts now,” Mat teases, leaning back against you and giving you more access for your hands to stroke him.

You just barely manage to bring Mat to his finish before his phone chimes with the delivery notification, but it’s intensely satisfying to watch him yank on the hotel robe and slippers with his face and chest all flushed before he runs down to the lobby. You take the time that he’s gone to clean yourself up, showering quickly before getting into your lounge pants. By the time you eat and hang out for a bit, Mat’s going to have to go back to his own room, so you’re trying to curb the temptation to go another round.

Your phone is still going crazy with notifications and when you open Instagram, you notice that Mat’s shared a story. Immediately suspicious, you tap on his little circle, groaning when you see the video of you shouting. He must’ve shared it while he was in the elevator, the fucking menace.

Underneath the reshared video, Mat added his own comment: my favorite trashy long islander 👊🏻💪🏻😂

You swipe up and tap out a reply: i hate you

“Love you too, Oscar,” Mat’s voice echoes through the room. You look up and there he is, carrying the bag of takeout.

“Oscar?”

“Like the Grouch? You know, because he lives in a trash can,” Mat’s grin is shit-eating, “and you’re trashy.”

You fling a pillow at him and he ducks, cracking up. “I’m sorry!” He chokes out, not sorry at all. “But it’s hilarious. Video gets funnier the more you watch and some of those people on Twitter really are quick with the comments.”

“I’m never coming to another game again, Mathew,” you inform him, faux-snootily. He hands you over the foil tin of mozzarella sticks.

“Yeah you are,” he presses a kiss to your temple. “You’d never forgive yourself if you missed me fight again.” He wiggles his eyebrows and takes a bite out of one of your mozzarella sticks.

He’s right and he knows it.

“I’m going to have to private my insta again,” you comment on a sigh, looking down at the notifications piling up.

“You’re gonna be old news in a day or two,” Mat replies. “Something else will happen at a different game and hockey twitter will move on.”

By the time you land in New York the next afternoon, Mat’s right. You’re old news because the team’s fired Lane and hired Patrick Roy as their new coach.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal fic #nhl fic

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