#I think my first ever overdrive piece

[skylandart]

@buster-loves-pr had an idea for a Dax and Rose movie night, where they’re watching Akira— who was voiced by JYB— Aka Adam… sO

And yes, yes that is a bond forger plushie.

[redheadspark]

Miss

Summary - Azriel missed you on his latest mission, and he shows you how much he has missed you

Warnings - SMUT SMUT SMUT! This is a SMUT one piece, NO MINORS FROM HERE ON OUT!

A/N - I am no SMUT writer, apologies in advance!

You were right at the peak, beyond close to tipping over and having that euphoria of pleasure consume you once again for the fifth time that night.  But then again, you were wishing not to let go just yet, this was the right amount of pleasure that was now wrapping around your bones and consuming you from the inside out.  All thanks to the Illyrian Spymaster above you who was taking his sweet time fucking you.  

This was his game: the game of Azriel the Shadowsinger of Night Court.

All you could breathe was Azriel, all you could feel was Azriel, and all you could ever experience was Azriel. There was no doubt that this was the best kind of drug that you could ever consume and need in your face life, even after 300 hundred years together as mates.  Azriel snuck into your life, someone you never saw coming when you were introduced by Mor.  There was no instant explosion of lust, nor was it bone dry and unfeeling.  It felt like you were slipping into a warm bath, your muscles unwinding instantly and a sigh of relief on your lips as you two shook hands for the first time.  Although you were friends at first, you both knew deep down that you were going to be connected in some way.

It only took a few years after meeting and building your friendship to feel the bond take place. From there on out, it was game over.

Azriel never stopped his hips, his toned muscles along his backside were working on overdrive as he was having over you while fucking you with such precision laced with intimacy and devotion, it was almost tooth aching.  But this was how Azriel worked when you two were in the throws of pleasure, going in right for the kill at the very beginning and then taking his time later on.  His patience in giving you pleasure could not be measured by any other, though you were not one to complain at all.  If he could, he could keep you on edge for hours on end and still have the drive to make you come undone within seconds.

Azriel was good at this game, and you would let him win every time.

"Oh fuck, my love," He growled against your cheek as his hips were still rolling.  Your legs were parted easily, sore for being spread for some time but now the feeling now a dull ache.  Just feeling his toned muscles and body against your own was enough for you to forget your thighs that were shaking.  His arms braced your head as your arms clung to his shoulders, feeling a bit of his wings as they were tucked against his back.  He kissed your cheek a few times as you were holding on for dear life, hearing him murmur, "I don't think I can ever stop,"

"Fuck…fuck don't stop," You moaned and pleaded as he gave a few hard thrusts, having your eyes roll back as his smile against your jaw was evident.

"I won't ever leave you that long ever again," He swore, engraining it in your skin as you bit your lower lip and moved one of your hands to run into his sweaty locks, "It was too….fuck…too long away from you, from being able to touch you like this…"

As if on cue, he moved one of his hands from being near your head to rubbing your clit, having you moan loudly and curl into him as the pleasure was now heightened to the tenth degree.  You were putty in his hands, and Azriel smirked from feeling you shake once his thumb rubbed your clit slowly and deliberately.  

You both knew you needed this night together, Azriel being away for almost an entire month thanks to Rhysand and his need for Azriel and his Spymaster ability.  Rhysand was on a tour of sorts to the other Courts, his own way of keeping peace with the other High Lords and going over the treaties that were signed.  Rhsyand was more than willing to go on his own, not letting High Lady Feyre come nor their own Nyx.  Feyre was running Night Court without him and Nyx was too young.  If left him having both Cassian and Azriel come along with him, Cassian talking to other army commanders in other courts, and Azrile being a second pair of eyes and ears in those meetings.

You were left alone from your mate for that long month, keeping busy and helping your High Lady.  But you weren't going to lie and say you didn't miss your mate, his company with you, your talks together, and most of all, the intimacy with him.  There was no doubt you two had a healthy sex life, a very healthy one at that.  The jokes from Rhysand and Cassian about Azriel and his high energy in bed were always evident when you and Azriel just got together, though you never let it affect you.  

But you knew those rumors were true when you and Azriel first slept together.  

"Azriel…Az please.." You mewled as his thumb was still rubbing your clit and his hips were still going at a constant cadence that was both filthy and yet touching at the same time.  Azriel knew how to fuck and he fucked well, no matter how many times you two were together like this, he made your heart soar and your moans sound lethal.  This night was no different, Azriel starting off the night instantly as you two made it back to your penthouse home in the city.  Azriel left his hesitance at the door, perching you on the edge of the kitchen island as he sank to his knees and dived in between your legs within seconds.  Shaking and moaning with no shame, you felt yourself cumming within two minutes of him licking into your pussy with just his tongue alone.  Watching your orgasm and your shake on the counter drew more desire from him, his chin still glistening from your release as he then licked his own fingers to have a second round with you.

Another four minutes, you came from his fingers.  Azriel was only warming up.

"Please what, my love?" He asked as he watched your eyes dilated and your lips parted in pleasure as he was still pounding into you slowly and with deep precision, "There is no way I can be done with you when you look and feel like this, beyond words,"  He lightly bit your jawline as you huffed and bit your lower lip, "I can't get enough of you, ever.  Nothing else has ever come close in my love, and I don't want anything else,"

You moaned, both from his words and how on edge you were.  He nuzzled into your cheek for a brief moment, breathing in your scent that was mixed with sex as he leaned back to be sitting on his legs.  Seeing you sprawled on your satin sheets, a gift from Rhysand on your wedding day, blissed out in pleasure with your hair plastered to your neck and cheeks and your eyes wide in love, Azriel thought you were heavenly.  His cock was still nestled deep inside of you, your pussy aching both in intense pleasure and lust as he drank in the sight of you.  He wanted this picture for the rest of his days, Inca se he had to go away again and think of you deep in the night for him to have something to come back to.

This night alone was memorable, fucking you against the shower wall as the water went cold against his back, then taking you from behind on the bathroom floor moments after turning off the water in the shower.  Which led to you two tangled on your bed, you riding him with a new core of desire in your belly.  But this, being pinned under Azriel as he was relentlessly fucking you into the mattress, was beyond words and made you feel like you were floating out of your body. 

Azriel was a pro at this.

"Cauldron, you're breathtaking," He hummed in lust as he was watching you while still perched over you, his cock rock hard inside your pussy as you lazily grinned.  You were still on edge, but that ache was nothing new for you in how he would draw this out for as long as he could to make your orgasm mind-numbingly amazing.  You reached up with one spare hand, Azriel then leaning down to have you cradle his face with your palm.  But your fingers were near his lips, you tracing his Lowe lips to feel how plump they were and you moaned.

"Gods you're divine," You moaned as his hazel eyes drilled into your own.  Without breaking eye contact, he opened his mouth to let two of your fingers slip into his mouth lustfully.  His tongue along your digits, with the wicked grin on his face, was enough to make you scream as his hips were moving again.  It was such a site, Azriel fucking you deeply and with new pent-up energy as he was sucking your fingers made you teeter on edge all over again.  You were so close, the feeling there along your spine and under your eyes as you were now babbling at him, knowing it was a turn-on for him to hear you moan and whimper his name.

"Fuck me…please fuck me….make me cum….make me cum.  Now, Az.  Now….I wanna cum…" You were repeating it like a mantra as he was drilling his hips again and again.  Nothing else was in your head, only the love you had for Azriel and how much he cherished you in his life.  He placed you first in all his choices and decisions as a Spymaster, choosing the less threatening missions and fights just to keep himself safe to come home to him.  How he loved you with both his words and his actions whenever he could.  Azriel felt as if you two being mates was fate for him, meant to be, and nothing would change that for him in his mind. Not even the Cauldron itself would take you away from him.  

And watching you orgasm, howling in pure pleasure and euphoria was enough for Azriel to also fall over the edge.  He felt himself empty inside of you, the sense of love and relief all over his body as his wings shot out in the moment of him summing.  The release, the new layer of love that was unleashed with the both of you, made Azriel almost float to the sky if he could.  

He would choose you over anything, over anyone, in this lifetime or beyond.  

Finally feeling boneless, he collapsed on top of you and held you close, still deep inside of you but not wishing to lose that connection anytime soon.  Holding you close, he breathed you in as your fingers were tracing his arms with the tips of your fingers.  Azriel held you like a jewel, delicately and with possession at the same time, while his lips were pecking along your neck and shoulder.  No matter how many times you two would fuck, there was still the foundation of you two loving each other.

Loving each other through the highs of your life and the lows.  Through the tragedies and the joy.  Azriel loved you with everything in him, you grinning against his head as you finally found your voice.

"If you intended on giving me the best sleep, then you have done well, my love," You said against his forehead.  Ariel laughed, the vibration of his laughter was against your neck as he held you a pinch tighter.

"You bring this side of me out in the best way," He cooed, then moved his head up to be eye to eye with you as your gaze on him lingered with affection.  He paused, looking you over and feeling the sensation of peace between the two of you.  Even in the tossed sheets and deep in the night, you both were back to the solid foundation of your love together.

"I've missed you so," He whispered to you, making your heart flutter as he nuzzled your nose with his.

"Not as much as I missed you," You hummed back, ruffling his hair as he leaned in to kiss you.  

The End

[navybrat817]

Incandescent

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader x Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes Summary: Bucky and Steve try to put on a show for you. Word Count: Over 1.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, implied vaginal and anal sex, threesome, bondage, dirty talk, tension, polyamory, possessive behavior, porn with feels (it’s me, c’mon), tattooed Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers (they’re warnings, okay?) A/N: Welcome back to my Howling Commandos Tattoo AU! Have you missed them? I know I have! I was nervous posting this as this my first dive into dynamics with Steve and Bucky, but I love it. If that isn't your jam, feel free to skip! ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby ​but any and all mistakes are my own. Banner created by yours truly, but Bucky and Steve photos were provided by the talented @nixakimbo ! Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky and Steve were your world. You weren’t afraid to voice that. In fact, you were proud to be on their arms when you were out together. You had their hearts and vice versa. You were their best girl. Their Blossom. Nothing would ever change that.

But once you got your hands on them, you were going to strangle them. Not enough to inflict real damage. You would never. You loved them. But they were going to feel some sort of wrath.

Fucking tattooed bastards.

You struggled against the binds, your wrists bound tight enough to keep you from escaping, but not enough to hurt you. Like you wouldn't hurt your boys, they would never harm you either. Your core throbbed enough to ache when they knelt on each side of you and faced each other on the bed.

Why did I let them talk me into tying me up? Damn them and their persuasiveness.

As Bucky moved his hand upwards to cup Steve's cheek, they smiled. From their profiles, you caught a hint of playfulness and something deeper before their lips met. A bond between two men who had been through hell and back together. Somehow you became their heaven on earth, allowing them to be with you and each other. And wasn't that the beauty in your relationship? Boundlessly loving and trusting each other?

No. I will not get mushy. Not when I'm frustrated.

Bucky’s tongue darted out to lick along Steve’s bottom lip as he pulled away. “I think Blossom wants a taste,” he said, turning his head to wink at you. Had you voiced your frustrations out loud or did he know you well enough that being a mere spectator wouldn't be enough today?

Both.

“And she’ll get one when we’re ready,” Steve stated, a sympathetic smile on his face as he gazed down at you. You wondered if he was secretly a sadist since he seemed to take pleasure in your current “pain”. “We made you too greedy, didn’t we, sweetheart?”

You squinted, trying your best to glare when they chuckled at your predicament. “You know why I’m greedy? Because you two can’t keep your hands off me OR your tongues, fingers, and cocks out of me. Excuse me for getting a bit used to it when you're to blame.”

Steve chuckled at that, not disagreeing with you.

He better not. I'm right.

A coo left Bucky’s mouth as he leaned down, his lips moving along your cheek before they stopped at your ear. “Who said we’re not giving you our tongues, fingers, AND cocks? Stevie and I just wanna have a little fun first while you watch. Is that so bad? Hmm?”

You whined in response, your hips rising and pussy begging for attention. Mandy joked that your libido was in permanent overdrive thanks to your boys and she wasn’t wrong. Your body craved and welcomed them. They fit like a glove, missing pieces that made you whole.

It was also a sight watching them. The view alone would've been enough to disintegrate your panties had they not destroyed them already. But tying you up so you couldn’t touch? Not even a small feel of Bucky’s bicep or Steve’s chest? It was cruel and unusual punishment and there would be retribution. Those bastards would rue the day.

No clue how, but they will.

“Do you need to touch us that badly? Are you that desperate for us?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow when Bucky leaned back up.

“Yes! Have you seen you two?” You asked as they shifted their gazes to look each other over. They shed their clothes before they bound you to the headboard, giving you a chance to admire them. Hard muscles, sculpted tattoo gods, one blonde and one brunette. “You were created for at least one person in the world to worship you and drive people insane.”

“Aww, I think she wants to worship us,” Bucky smiled, gliding a hand down Steve’s chest. You watched the blonde swiftly inhale, knowing how much he loved the slow drag down his body. “What do you think?”

“Buck,” Steve groaned when Bucky firmly wrapped a hand around his cock.

“Maybe you can fuck my throat first?” The brunette suggested, lazily pumping him as you bit your lip. “Or at least let me get my mouth around it. Get your cock sloppy and wet before you fuck our girl.”

“Please,” you moaned, unable to spread your legs any further since they were still planted on either side. “I need it.”

If begging is what it takes, I'll do it.

“Or you can suck my cock before I fuck her? I know you love watching me slide in and out of her sweet pussy. She always takes me so well,” Bucky went on, Steve’s eyes slipping shut as he began to leave open mouth kisses on his neck. You understood why Steve shivered. Bucky had a very talented mouth. “Too bad she can’t touch herself while she watches like last time.”

Yeah. Too fucking bad.

“Touch her, Buck,” Steve ordered, making you and Bucky gasp when he gripped his hair and pulled him back with a smirk. “Slip those fingers in her cunt and show me how soaked she is from the sight of us.”

You were fairly certain that Bucky and Steve were the only men in the world who could speak about you like you weren’t there and get you hot and bothered. They didn’t have to touch you to prove how wet you were, but you weren’t going to stop Bucky from curling his digits inside you. Especially when Steve gave the order in that deep, husky tone.

“Please, Bucky?” You asked sweetly, raising your hips again. “I know I've been a little mouthy and impatient, but please? Show Stevie how wet my pretty pussy is?”

You shrieked when Bucky’s hand suddenly came down on your throbbing cunt, the smack loud in your ears. “Not your pussy, doll. It’s ours. Now be good and open up,” he said, his voice rough as he bent down and spread your lips apart with one hand, the other still pumping Steve’s hard cock. “Our pussy really is pretty. What a fucking sight.”

“You gonna apologize for calling our pussy yours?” Steve questioned, arching into Bucky’s touch the moment he slipped two fingers inside your wet hole. It hardly stung, the relief as he thrust his fingers making you whimper. “I think you owe us one.”

“Okay. I'm sorry, you fucking tattooed bastards,” you said, smiling dreamily at Steve when he narrowed his eyes. He said to apologize, but didn’t say anything about getting mouthy. Again.

“And this is why we tied you up,” he said, wiping the smile off your face. “You beautiful brat.”

Not fair.

“Oh. Now you’re being mean, Steve,” Bucky said, smirking when he brushed a thumb over your swollen clit. “But I’m not mean, doll. Gimme a few minutes and I’ll get my mouth on your perfect tits. Love hearing you whimper when I drag your nipples between my teeth.”

You shuddered with your next breath, your breasts lightly shaking with your exhale. Both sets of eyes on you darkened at the movement, your cheeks hot as you squirmed. Maybe being tied up wasn’t such a bad thing after all. It didn’t give you a chance to hide from their hungry gazes. It left you open, vulnerable, ready for whatever they gave you.

And you’d take it all because you were strong and eager enough, just like they took everything you gave them. It made sense why you were their Blossom. You bloomed into the person you were now and they helped you continue to grow. In some ways, you did the same for them.

“And who said I’m not getting a taste of anything?” Steve said, batting Bucky’s hand away from his cock. “Take your fingers out.”

Bucky swiftly removed them, making you whine at the loss. A punched sound came from your gut a heartbeat later when Steve gripped Bucky’s wrist and sucked his fingers into his mouth with a grunt, not stopping until they were clean. “I may not need to get your dick wet if she's that soaked. You might be able to slide on in while I fuck you.”

Fuck, please.

It was Bucky’s turn to tremble when Steve nipped at his earlobe. “I think you’d like that. Me at your back. Her at your front. Both of us loving you the way you deserve,” he said, before he turned a fond gaze your way. One that made your throat go dry. “Loving each other the way we all deserve. I know our best girl would agree.”

“Of course, I do,” you whispered. That wasn't lust speaking, but the pure adoration you had for them.

“I love you both so much,” Bucky said without fear or hesitation, his blue eyes sparkling with joy.

You stopped shifting against the mattress, tears threatening to clog your throat. How could they simultaneously turn you on and resort you to happy crying? They made your heart and holes full.

“Love you both, too,” you said, your chest rising and falling with your next breath. “And I’ll be good and watch until you’re ready for me.”

Bucky swooped down to catch your parted lips with his. Heat surged through your body as his tongue fervently tasted your mouth. As quickly as it began, it stopped so Steve’s mouth could replace his. It was just as demanding and hungry as Bucky’s before they turned their attention back to each other, leaving you a panting mess as you watched captivated as they licked and sucked, their kiss rough and desperate.

You knew exactly how they felt.

Steve’s hand closed around Bucky’s cock, swallowing down his groan of pleasure as you could only look on. You found yourself smiling again as they got lost in each other, each of them making sure to keep a hand on you. They were beautiful. They were yours. And they were your home.

Still might strangle them a bit once I’m free. Nah. I’ll just sit on their faces. Much better way to suffocate them.

Until they took care of you, you’d enjoy the show.

Blossom already has a revenge plan brewing. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Stucky Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[sydnikov]

Fleeting || A. Svechnikov

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov / fem!Reader

Word Count: 17.5k

Summary: Every moment with Andrei is fleeting.

Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), cheating(?), toxic relationship, alcoholic consumption, angst, cursing, no happy ending, Andrei-is-a-dick™

A/N: For those of you who have already been following me, you might remember this post—that’s what this is based on :) This is also the longest fic I’ve ever written so that’s insane, but sorry not sorry. Get ready, this one’s gonna hurt 🤭

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

Andrei doesn’t love you.

It becomes clear for you months after you start fucking him on the side. His likeness for you is merely an obsession, something to have all to himself.

You’re his, or were his, and that’s how he saw you. Nothing more than that, or at least that’s the conclusion you’ve come to after months apart lets you reflect on your relationship with him.

Spending a lot of time in your head, you think. About him, his actions, why he couldn’t love you the way you love him.

He always held you close to him, one muscular arm curled around your waist while the other likely held a drink in his hand. He paraded you around like a prize, happy to show off the hot piece of meat he likely thought of you as at his side.

It was hard to reach him, literally and metaphorically. You had to stand up on your toes to reach his ear, and the power imbalance just by your height difference alone only made the whole thing hotter, merely one aspect of your relationship you never really could get over.

Every time you spoke it had him grinning in a way that made you think he knew something you didn’t. You’re already so shy, too, and it’s what made up your whole demeanor, what drew him to you in the first place.

He likes sweetness. Innocence, quiet—that way you couldn’t rebel. And he loved it when you doted on him. You did your best to be everything he wanted in a girl, too. Bold makeup, skimpy clothing, speaking only to him and him alone. Best of all, you didn’t question him. His actions, his decisions, why he’d sometimes go days without speaking to you but once he called you again, you would come running without hesitation.

It took you too long to realize that he only liked you because you were someone he could fall back on when the freedom of his escapades got too boring and he needed stability. The thing is that Andrei loved you being his, but he didn’t want to ever be yours.

And you know this now, you do. The moment you went no contact and left his apartment in tears, you were calling your best friend for support and to reinforce the fact that he is the asshole, not you.

Sometimes, though, you dream. Of his hands on you, his mouth on your neck, his thick cock pounding into you from behind. The toxicity of it all that, despite everything, felt so good because your emotions were always on overdrive when with him.

Mostly, you liked feeling desired. Nobody had ever pursued you the way he did, even if your body is all he really wanted from you to begin with.

It’s been months since you confessed your feelings for him and he told you to leave; months of you wallowing, going to work, meeting with friends for drinks as a shell of yourself because without Andrei, life suddenly seemed colorless.

You miss him. The excitement, the tension, the way he made you feel. And you pride yourself on being confident, but all self respect flies out the window the moment his name is brought up. It’s wrong, too, you swear you know this, and you imagine countless times telling him off, if you ever run into him again.

For treating you like a body to warm his dick, a soulless individual with no feeling… You’re reminded of the last conversation you had with him yet again, the one that ended everything. You’d been seeing each other for months when it occurred. Months full of Andrei and the rollercoaster of emotions he had you on.

To get to the end, though, you have to go back to the beginning.

It’s January of twenty twenty-three, and you’re freshly twenty-one and experiencing the world in a way you never could before. Riding the high of getting your first serious job in college, it took no convincing at all for you to let your best friend, Maria, convince you to go out on a Friday night to celebrate your blossoming lives.

“Who are we meeting there, again?” You ask, painting your lips a bright red in front of Maria’s full-body mirror. You’ve already started pregaming, and your head is starting to buzz in just the way you like it.

Your blonde friend is quickly curling her hair, despite the fact that she’s had hours to get ready and still procrastinated until you arrived at her apartment. “Some friends from work. You probably won’t know them,” She says offhandedly, finishing her hair in record timing before snatching up the two dresses she had previously laid out on her bed. “Should I wear this in black or red?”

Raising a brow, you question her wording. “Considering I don’t work with you, I doubt I would.” Laughing, you turn your head away from the mirror to examine the two dresses she’s holding up to her body. “Do the red one, it makes your eyes pop.”

Anything would look good on Maria, though. She has this timeless sort of beauty, a blonde, blue-eyed bombshell that has eyes turning her way wherever she goes. You’d be jealous if you didn’t mind her taking all the attention off of you, considering you’re nowhere near as bold as her.

It will especially come in handy tonight, too, since these co-workers of hers are ones you’ve never met before and you don’t exactly plan on getting too close to them.

“This is why I get ready with you,” Maria sighs happily, unceremoniously throwing the black dress back onto her bed. “Oh! I almost forgot, I have heels for you!” She’s then running back into her closet, ruffling through a box before emerging with a pair of bright red stilettos.

“What’s with the red theme tonight?” You giggle as she tosses the heels to you. They look expensive, a brand you don’t recognize written in cursive on the inside of the leather soles. Maria insisted you incorporate red into your outfit tonight, whether it be subtle or bold.

She eyes you from her position on the bed, somehow managing to zip up her dress one-handed. “You don’t watch sports by any chance, do you?”

Throwing back the last of a vodka shot, you wince before responding. “My dad made me watch baseball with him sometimes?”

Maria’s face lights up like she suddenly knows something you don’t. All she does is hum in response, biting her lip like she’s holding back from telling you something.

Or, you’re just drunk. You’ve always been a lightweight. “What?” You ask anyway, finally standing up as you adjust yourself.

The blonde walks over to you, fixes the creases in your little black dress and affixes you with an approving stare. “Don’t worry about it,” Suddenly, she’s whirling around to go back for her phone, which is laid faced down on the nightstand. “Ooh, I knew those heels were a good choice. You look so good!”

As she saunters back over, wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you into her side and poses for a picture, you forget all about the abrupt topic change and the fact that her red theme with questions of sports does mean something, after all.

Truthfully, you still can’t remember exactly how you got from her apartment and into a high-end bar you’ve only ever seen advertised online. Bits and pieces of an Uber ride along with downing more shots come to mind, but it’s all hazy.

You don’t really care to remember though, either, as Maria leads you through the crowded bar, arm linked through yours, with a purpose. The music is loud, so loud you think you can see the walls moving, but that’s also probably just your swimming vision.

“Here they are!” Maria is shouting over the noise, and you follow her gaze to a group of tall, imposing men surrounding two booths right by the bar.

“Those are you coworkers?” You ask, a little incredulous. Scratch that—very incredulous.

She sends you a mischievous grin. “I said friends, girl. Meet my friends!” That’s what gathers their attention, and you’re suddenly reminded that she’s just as tipsy as you right now, if not more.

Ah, fuck, you think as one of the men come over and pull Maria into a hug. He looks at you questioningly after they pull apart, and you send him a small, nervous smile.

Damn it, Maria.

“You must be the friend she mentioned,” He says, again looking to the blonde beside you for confirmation. “From college, yeah?”

That seems to snap Maria out of whatever stunned stupor she’d been in, and she tunes back into your conversation by, again, pulling you into her. “My best friend,” She swoons, and yeah. She’s definitely drunk now.

“Nice to meet you,” He’s chuckling, and seems to be familiar with her antics. “I’m Martin.”

You introduce yourself and shake his offered hand. “Any leftover shots, by any chance?” While taking the lead in conversation with people you’ve never met before might seem odd, you don’t think you can rely on Maria to socialize for you considering she’s already falling into your side.

“I can check, if you want to follow me—ah, shit,” Martin curses, suddenly, then quickly apologizes to the two of you before rushing over to a man with a mustache attempting to climb on top of a table.

“Interesting friends, Maria,” You say into her ear as you reluctantly follow him, keeping her close. “Who’s the one with the mustache?”

She seems to gain a little bit of her wits back to give you a description of all the guys within your eyesight. “The mustache is Seth, super friendly but also, uh… Super drunk. He’s Canadian.”

You’re not sure why you need to know his nationality, but she continues before you can ask.

“And you just met Martin, right? Yeah, he’s really nice. His girlfriend, Nykki, is gorgeous, they’re both from Czechia. Then there’s the really tall one, behind Seth? No, other side. Yeah, that’s Jesperi. A bit of a flirt even though we’re all pretty sure he has a girlfriend, but he still won’t admit it. He’s Finnish.”

Maria continues to describe a few of the others, but truthfully, you tune out after Jesperi because a man about the same height as the Finn is suddenly approaching the group, and looks to be the only one Seth listens to because that’s who gets him to crawl down from the table.

You don’t know why he catches your attention so suddenly, but something about him… He turns, and you’re able to catch a glimpse of his side profile.

Immediately, you come to find there’s no accurate word to describe him. His beauty simply transcends any compliment you could give; instead, you interrupt your friend from her spiel.

“Hey Mare, Mare—who’s that?” Slapping her arm, you point towards the now-laughing stranger. He’s looking around as he does so, which is when he makes contact with your starstruck eyes. He looks amused, then seems to recognize the blonde beside you, and then he’s cutting through the crowd to meet you.

Maria gives you a look before also spotting the approaching stranger, and a large smile lights up her face. It’s a smile you’re very familiar with, one that enraptures every man who catches a glimpse of her pearly whites.

You quickly come to the conclusion that this is why she was so eager to go out. She’s likely had her eye on him for a while, and you struggle to keep the disappointment from your face as she purrs his name.

“Hey, Andrei,” She says, a little giggly. “Great game today, you all played awesome.”

Andrei… You test the name silently, liking the way it feels on your tongue. He’s even taller up close, and you can see the muscle definition straining through the fabric of his shirt. He’s huge, and you feel incredibly small standing next to him.

“Thank you,” He replies, his voice deep. A little husky, definitely accented, but you’re not sure from where. “Who’s your friend?” He changes topic quickly, and those dark eyes are back on you once again.

Maria, as ditzy as she can be, does notice the subtle change in him. Andrei has never been overly flirty with her like she has with him, and she’d be an idiot not to notice the way his eyes were drawn to you the moment he spotted you.

She’s used to having all sorts of attention from the opposite sex, and the Russian hockey player is all sorts her type. It’s amusing though, watching how you melt under his gaze, thinks ‘me too’, and then decides to help you out.

“This is my friend from college,” She introduces you, says your name and watches as he takes it in like it’s very important information. Grabbing your hand from where it rests at your side, she holds it out to Andrei for you, snickers as you send her a glare. “And this is Andrei. He plays for the Carolina Hurricanes.”

This is why she asked you if you watch sports, you suddenly connect the dots. And why she was telling you where all these people are from. Her friends from work are actually sports players, and you understand why she didn’t say it outright.

These guys, they’re famous, right? Your stomach twists, and you suck in a breath as Andrei takes your hand. His palm envelops yours, and he brings it to his lips to press a heated kiss to your skin.

The greeting is outdated, but for whatever reason it suits him. You think the kiss is a promise, too, as his thumb swipes over the back of your hand.

“That’s hockey, right?” You intend to ask Maria, but you’re unable to take your eyes off of Andrei as he slowly lets go of you, like the contact is riveting for him, too. “In the NHL?”

“Yes,” He answers. “You don’t watch?” You’re not a fan like he’d expect. Strangely enough, he likes that you don’t follow them. It makes you all the more interesting, someone new to pick apart for his pleasure.

You flush, turning red under his unrelenting gaze. Suddenly, you feel out of place with your lackluster hockey knowledge. “Not a huge sports girl, unfortunately.” You say slowly, but he catches your quiet words anyway.

He’s already tuned into you—has made you into a new game to win, in his mind.

“I can fix that.” Andrei grins, and it’s almost predatory as he smoothly slides his left arm around your waist. “Do you mind if I steal her?” He directs his question to Maria, but doesn’t really give her a chance to answer before pulling you  away.

Turning your head, you find her sending you a grin as she mouths something encouraging, holding up two thumbs-ups. She’s already decided that if she can’t have this sexy Russian, she wants you to instead.

“I like your heels,” His deep voice is in your ear, suddenly, and you take your eyes off of Maria to look up at Andrei, instead. “They’re the color of our jerseys.”

“Thank you,” You breathe, letting the warmth from his compliment wash over you. “Maria made me wear them.”

He clicks his tongue, like this information doesn’t surprise him. “She has good taste. Red is definitely your color.”

You flush again, finding that his eyes are already on you when you tilt your head up. Nobody has ever told you that before… Maria is always the one getting praise, not you.

The fast beating of your heart, shaky limbs and nervous breath, and you already know you’re falling for it. His charm, his looks, his confidence; it’s addicting, and you can’t force yourself to stop as you ever so slightly lean into him, letting his body envelop you.

Before you know it, you’ve arrived at the bar, and Andrei orders a drink over the loud bass that reverberates in your ears. It appears moments later - not fair - and then he’s sliding it towards you. You meet his eyes again as he smiles, raising a brow at your silence before he gestures to take it.

“For you,” He says. “Vodka cranberry. I have a feeling you like the fruity drinks, no?”

He’s right, as much as you hate to admit it. You’re not one for sipping hard, bitter liquor, even if it gets the job done. You’re not sure how you feel about him being able to read you so well, but you do like not having to carry the conversation.

“Am I that transparent?” You grin, though it’s laced with insecurity as you take a sip. It’s good, and helps calm your nerves.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, malyshka. It’s not a bad thing.”

You wouldn’t know it then, but he already began patronizing you the moment you met him. The Russian language is full of double-meanings, and malyshka, little one, is rather mocking. For him to know you so well already was a good thing for him, but for you? Not so much.

Andrei sees right through you, and he has from the very beginning.

“You’re not American, are you?” You change topic, suddenly, using the unfamiliar term he used as an excuse. “Your accent, it’s foreign.”

“Net—no, I’m not. Most of my teammates are out of country.” He replies. “I’m from Russia. Just here to play hockey.”

“Do you like it? Here in Raleigh?” You ask, a pitiful form of small talk to keep this sudden tension at bay.

“I do.” He replies. “I like it a whole lot more now that I’ve met you, though.” And then he’s smiling again, a grin rather feral as he looks at you like you’re his prey waiting to be devoured. He’s incredibly smooth as he puts his hands back on you, one sliding around the circumference of your waist while the other brings your hand holding the drink to his lips, taking a sip from the glass.

Your eyes go half-lidded at the motion, and Andrei knows he has you—hook, line, and sinker. He loves this game, but he thinks he likes you a little bit more than that, too.

Not that he’ll ever admit it.

“You just met me,” You blurt, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.

Andrei, to his credit, takes your nervousness in stride. He finds it cute that he has that effect on you. “And I like you,” He counters, flashing a dazzling smile. “You’re cute. Small, like kisa.”

“Kisa?” You try out the unfamiliar word, your attempt at a Russian accent definitely not as sexy as his.

“Kitten,” He translates. “Will you purr for me?” It’s so disgustingly cheesy you can’t help but grimace, and Andrei laughs at the look on your face.

He steps closer, even more than he was before, and the way he looks down on you only makes the difference in height that much more noticeable. He’s so big… Normally you’d feel caged, but with him it feels safe, and that’s probably a red flag you won’t discover until much later.

You struggle finding something to say, but he beats you to it. “I’d like your number, if you’re willing to give it.” And he’s so smooth, so conniving with the way he asks it because he’s not demanding at all, letting you think you have all the power.

“Okay,” You breathe, eyes widening in awe as you don’t even have the chance to pull out your phone before he’s sliding his own into your hands. “You can add your contact.” He instructs, watching you type in your information.

It looks informal, your first and last name in his phone like you’re merely a coworker. You’ll blame it on you being tipsy later, but you add a smiley face at the end of your name, hoping it makes you stand out. You don’t know how many girls he has in his contacts but you’re not naive enough to think you’re the only one.

You lick your lips almost subconsciously as you hand Andrei his phone back, and he zeroes in on the motion. Suddenly, he has the urge to kiss you, and so he does just that. It catches you by surprise, but soon enough you’re melting into him as one large hand cradles your jaw, keeping you tilted up to him.

Andrei tastes like sin, like temptation and all things bad you were told to never get involved in as a kid. A forbidden fruit, perhaps, and there’s even hints of cranberry left on his tongue to cement that fact.

“Andrei…” You hum in surprise as he deepens the kiss, his lips soft and heavenly. It takes everything in you to pull back, to separate yourself from the addicting taste of him. “Wait, I don’t, um—”

You pause. Andrei looks confused, perhaps a little alarmed as his eyes flit over your face. “You don’t… Kiss anyone?”

“No! No,” You lower your voice, not wanting to attract any attention. “Of course I do. I just, I don’t hook up. For fun. Ever.”

He frowns, like he can’t fathom the idea that you don’t enjoy sex with no strings attached.

“Really,” he says, not quite a question. “You’re beautiful, though.” The charm comes back full force as his hand comes to brush away some of your hair that had fallen into your face. “Surely you have suitors, no?”

Your throat tightens, and suddenly your eyes are glassy as he looks at you with so much reassurance and affection. “Maria usually gets the ‘suitors’, not me.”

“I don’t believe that.” He responds immediately, and he looks so sure of himself as his head lowers, his eyes looking back and forth from yours to your lips, and you’re helpless to stop him as the hand moving your hair comes to rest on your cheek.

It’s all very convincing, the sudden care and adoration… You’ve never had a man treat you so delicate, like a prized possession, and you fall for it all too quickly.

“Let me take you out?” He soon asks, and there’s nothing you can really respond with other than yes.

Everything happens so quickly from here. Andrei becomes a centerpiece in your life, and you’re helpless to stop it as you fall for everything about him. You don’t truly become his ‘girlfriend’, but you are something more. Secret dates and midnight drives where no one can see you confirm that.

That’s why you think he’s finally turning serious about you when he shows up to your apartment at the beginning of March a few weeks before his playoffs start. He holds a large bouquet of roses, except your favorite flowers are gardenias because they remind you of your mom so your smile wobbles a little bit, but you let it slide for the romanticism of it all.

Andrei grins, the whites of his teeth blinding and he pulls you in and kisses the top of your head. He asks you if you’ll come to his playoff games, wear a WAG jacket and act as if what you are is official. You think you truly mean something to him after this, even though he never actually confirms it.

Suddenly you’re Andrei’s girl (but not really) and it becomes your entire identity. You essentially live with him as the playoffs come around, taking care of his apartment while he’s on the road. He talks of getting a dog over the summer, and you’re enthusiastic in your encouragement because you’ll have a friend to keep you company while he’s on the road.

His injury happens, though, and he’s out for good, at least for the rest of the season. You don’t know how to comfort him because your ‘relationship’ is so new, and it’s hard for you to understand why the anger at himself cuts so deep.

Ultimately, you fix the rough patch with sex. Lots and lots of sex. He works through his frustrations by taking you long, hard, and deep, mostly with him on top holding your throat while you take it like the good girl he tells you you are.

“‘Drei, your leg,” You remember saying to him one time as he slams you onto his bed, rolling directly on top of you. He doesn’t seem to hear you at first, too busy laying kisses to your neck.

“I don’t care.” He eventually responds, looking at you so darkly it leaves you shivering. He eats you out afterwards, and, well—you don’t have any more protests after that.

They win the first series against the New York Islanders in six games, and the moment the final goal is scored in overtime you’re jumping out of your seat along with the other WAG’s at one of their houses.

It’s exhilarating, rooting for something with every ounce of your being. You do it for Andrei - who still isn’t playing, but he was there watching - but mostly for yourself because you love the feeling of belonging to a community so close.

The second series ends sooner than the first, a five game victory over the New Jersey Devils, and this time you are at that final game. You sit with Andrei in a private booth at the top of PNC Arena, gripping his arm that also holds onto your thigh with the same amount of intensity.

The moment the final goal is scored - also in overtime - you’re hunching over your seat releasing a long breath. Andrei attempts to rise, then likely remembers his leg which forces him to grip the arms of his chair in strained acceptance.

“They did it,” You hear him whisper, like he can’t believe they actually came out of this series alive. “They did it.” He repeats himself, louder and more confident. You’re still folded over yourself, letting the anxiety drain out of you when he grabs your hand and tangles your fingers together.

“My kisa,” He says, waiting for you to turn your head so he can smile brilliantly at you. “We did it.”

“Not we,” And you grin back, because there’s nothing else for you to do but match his ecstasy. “You did it.”

“I didn’t even play,” Andrei is laughing, soaking in your praise like a sponge. “But I was here, wasn’t I?”

“You mean more to them than you’ll ever know.” More to me than you’ll ever know, you want to say, but hold back on that particular vulnerability.

After he finishes the team meeting in the locker room, you take him back to his house. He still hasn’t been given the all clear to drive, so you’ve taken up caretaker duties along with his mother.

You don’t think she likes you very much, either, but Andrei just says it takes a while for her to warm up to new people. Thankfully, she’s never around when you are though, because as you close the front door to his house he gives you a look equating to a meal he wants to devour.

Andrei seems to forget all about his knee, again, when he moves into you, pushing you back against the front door. “You drive me crazy.” He mumbles into your lips, and you don’t think you’re meant to respond as he moves to your neck.

You wore his jersey tonight, hoping it would bring the team good luck. You also happen to like how possessive he gets when he sees you in his clothes, especially wearing his name. It’s a little ridiculous, but you can’t lie and say you don’t love the attention.

Biting into your jugular, he tastes your rapidly beating heart before moving on, addicted to the sound of the moan that chokes its way out of your throat.

“I’m going to fuck you,” He breathes, massaging his hands into your waist as he pulls you away from the door. “And you’re going to love it, aren’t you? Because you’re such a good girl. My good girl.” His raspy voice leaves you holding back a whimper, and it’s hard to speak as he begins to sneak his hands under your jersey.

When you don’t respond because you’re too distracted by his hands, his damn hands, trailing up your ribs, he digs his fingers harshly into your skin. Your eyes snap open to find him almost glaring.

“Yes,” You think he wants to hear you say. “I’m yours.” You babble as his fingers let up, moving to cup your breasts over your bra as he pinches your nipples into hard points.

“That’s right,” He hums almost mockingly, hands now back to your waist as he pulls you after him to the path of his room. “No one else can make you feel like I do, yeah?”

This time he doesn’t expect a response as he pushes his door open, turning you around as you fall into his bed. Your head spins as the jersey you’re wearing rides up and Andrei quickly does the rest, slipping it off you with ease.

“Fuck,” You think he says, but you could care less as his bare hands are back on you, kneading the soft skin of your stomach and trailing back up the length of your torso. “No shirt underneath?”

“It was too hot outside,” You reply, breathless as you attempt to tug his suit and tie off, but that quickly proves to be more difficult. He tsks, thankfully deciding to aid you as he rids himself of his jacket. “You’re lucky that jersey is so thick.” He says, moreso to himself as he begins unbuttoning his slacks.

All that’s left is his undershirt and boxers, meanwhile you’re still left in your bra, jeans, and panties. Andrei must realize this too as he kicks his slacks off somewhere behind him. “Strip,” He commands, but you don’t need the reminder as you’re already one step ahead of him.

Your jeans and panties come off quickly, but it’s harder to remove your bra lying down. You eye the delicious specimen of a man above you, reaching out your hand for his own. “Help me?” You ask, biting your bottom lip before rolling onto your stomach.

Andrei mutters something behind you, but it’s clearly appraisal as the first thing his hands land on is your bare ass. He spends a few moments appreciating the view before his fingers trail up your back, unclipping your bra much quicker than you ever could have.

“You, kisa, are dangerous,” He teases, lowering himself to where his solid chest is pressing down on your back. He loves taking you from behind, tangling his hands in your hair while you’re left to his mercy.

He noses his way past your hair to reach your neck, lightly nipping the skin as you sigh, your head melting to the side so he can continue his ministrations.

“Andrei, please,” You hiss, the wetness between your thighs now too prominent to ignore. You wiggle your hips tantalizingly, hoping to catch his attention.

He grins into your neck, doesn’t respond as he presses a final kiss to your pulse point before pulling back, his right hand sweeping the rest of your hair to the side.

“You need me to touch you?” He asks, smoothing his left hand over your hip before slipping it to the inside of your thighs. His fingers find your clit, rubbing it ever so lightly to feel you flinch with sensitivity underneath him.

You tremble underneath him as he continues stroking you, and your hips jerk upward when two of his fingers slip past your walls and curl. He’s laughing as your ears ring, and already you’re so close to coming when his thumb rubs circles on your clit in time with the thrust of his hand.

Just like everything else about you, though, he knows; he knows and he pulls back before you even have the chance to swear because then the last layer of clothing between you is gone. His boxers are thrown somewhere behind him along with his undershirt, and now he wastes no time pulling your hips up, leaving your chest pressed into the bed.

So used to this familiar position, you look behind you in anticipation to find him stroking his cock, staring at your glistening pussy with barely contained arousal. You’re not sure what he’s waiting for, but then he’s sliding his free hand through your soaked lips to gather the wetness there, using it as lubricant.

“Shit,” He says, swearing more to himself before climbing atop you. It’s routine the way he grabs your hair, tangles it in his fingers while the other guides his swollen cock to your entrance. The bulbous head pushes into you with ease, finding no resistance as he sinks into you.

Andrei hisses, mutters something in Russian, then is lowering his head to press his lips to your ear. “Fuck, you’re tight. You just feel so good all the time, you know that, kisa?”

The only sound capable of coming out your mouth is a whimper as you bury your face into the sheets as his hips begin thrusting, hitting your sweet spot with bullseye accuracy each time.

The girth of him stretches you out deliciously, and it leaves your walls clenching and unclenching rhythmically in time with his movements. You mold to him like your body was made for him, like there’s no other way to exist without him taking you in such primal fashion.

Andrei’s head rests in the crook of your neck, murmuring indiscernible phrases while his hands trail up and down your body. His hips rut against your clit each time he thrusts forward, and if anything you get wetter at the thought of him fucking you so callously.

You feel like his most precious belonging sometimes, like an object. It can be disorienting when he talks to you like you’re a child, but when he fucks you it’s like that preciousness he views you with is amplified.

You flinch upward when his cock curves into you just right, and the way he coos into your ear to bring you back down only verifies that thought. He wants to take care of you, always—even if it demeans you.

Andrei suddenly rolls over onto his back, bringing you with him to where you’re the one on top with your back laying against his chest. He sits up, and now you’re in his lap, thighs spread to the side as he once again begins fucking into you.

Your mouth opens into a silent scream as your head rolls back onto his shoulder, the new angle forcing his cock into deeper lengths inside you, and it hurts but it hurts so good and why were you ever questioning how he treats you, again?

How has only one man ever been able to make you feel this good?

Euphoria floods your veins as his hands find purchase on your body, one taking your left tit and rolling your nipple between his fingers while the other sneaks down to the junction of your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing over it mercilessly.

When your stomach starts clenching and your lower spine tingles, Andrei is right back at your ear whispering encouragement. “That’s it, angel,” He praises. “That’s it. You want to come, yeah? Do it. I’ve got you.”

His name leaves your mouth as a breathless whine, and you struggle not to flinch away from his touch when it becomes too much but also not enough, and somehow he knows this and just holds you tighter.

When his cock hits you so deliciously good while his thumb swipes over your clit, you fall. You fall hard, the walls of your cunt seizing around him as ecstasy takes over your body. Sparks fly across your skin, stars filling the empty blackness behind your closed eyes and you think you’re sobbing Andrei’s name but you can’t be sure. The only thing you can be sure of is him; his cock inside you, his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, his teeth on your neck as he approaches his high.

Yours lasts for longer than normal because he doesn’t stop moving—if anything, he goes faster, because the sight and feeling of sending you into a spiral only triggers his own release.

By now you’re motionless, unable to even lift your head as it remains lying against his shoulder. Andrei’s thrusts are frenzied, more sloppy and less precise, until he’s throwing his own back with a long, pleasure-filled groan.

Eventually, he stills. His chest is rising and falling behind you rapidly, attempting to collect himself now that his mind is back in the present. You sigh, quietly yet happy, as his cock softens inside you but doesn’t move, his release slowly trickling down your conjoined bodies.

You suddenly remember that he didn’t lose a condom, but then you remind yourself that you’d stopped using condoms weeks before. You were already on birth control, and he assured you this was exclusive.

You were a fool to believe him.

Andrei soon moves, his hands taking to your hips as he gently lifts you off of him. “I know,” He says when you hiss with sensitivity. “I’ve got you, good girl…” He lays you on your back, and you don’t move from your position even as he leaves the room.

Your eyes soon flutter shut, and you curl to the side as the minutes go by with no sign of return. It’s not regret that fills your mind, no, but another emotion, something stronger than just satisfaction at getting such a pleasurable release.

You don’t dare to think of the world ‘love’, but maybe something similar to that is what you’re feeling?

It doesn’t help that just as you’re on the verge of falling asleep, Andrei comes back to your naked form while he’s now adorned in sweatpants. You merely hum as he sits on the edge of his bed next to you, one of his hands reaching out to trail up your arm. When he reaches your face he brushes away the hair stuck to your cheeks and forehead from cooling sweat, letting your skin breathe.

He says something, so quiet it’s impossible to hear over the sound of your thundering heart, and you don’t have the energy to ask as you finally succumb to exhaustion.

Andrei cleans you up after, dries the inside of your legs and slides one of his t-shirts over you. He tucks you under his sheets and pulls you into his arms, letting your hair tickle his cheeks.

The Eastern Conference Final arrives far quicker than any of you are prepared for, and games one and two against the Florida Panthers are full of anxious nail-biting and frustrated cursing when the puck hits the goal post.

Both games end in overtime losses, and the team has to play games three and four in enemy territory, down by two.

Andrei, understandably, isn’t taking it well. It's hard for the players on the ice, of course, but even harder when he has to sit at the sidelines, hidden in a booth at the top of the arena with you doing your best to comfort him.

“Why can’t they just fucking score?” You remember him hissing before the end of regulation in game two, not angry at his teammates but at the situation instead.

And himself, too, because he is the injured one. He is the one who tore his ACL making it so that he couldn’t play. It isn’t his fault, but it is at the same time and that’s what’s truly getting to him.

As the timer hit zero, he’d leaned back in his chair and grabbed your hand without thought, squeezing your fingers to the point of strangulation.

You let him, though, because at that point you’d let him do anything.

“I’m sorry.” You said, your eyes on him the entire time. It pained you to see him so miserable, and there was nothing you could do to make it better. “This isn’t your fault. It’s… Blame Bobrovsky, okay? He’s just too—”

You interrupted yourself, not wanting to say ‘good’ even if that’s true because you didn’t want to upset him with the implication that his teammates couldn’t be better.

Andrei, to give him credit, didn’t take offense. His eyes were on you the moment you started your ramble, and as you finally paused to gauge the look on his face you found amusement and unbridled affection in his gaze.

“Too good?” He finished your sentence, waiting for your meek nod of confirmation. Merely sighing, he only brought your intertwined fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss to the top of your hand. “You’re right, kisa. He is too good.”

You stay back in Raleigh while the team, including Andrei, takes flight to Sunrise, Florida. Most of the WAG’s stay back too, the majority already anticipating the result of this series.

Hours after the team’s flight, Maria calls you late on the eve of game three.

“Hey, Mare!” You answer, lowering the volume of whatever show is on the television to better hear her. “What’s up?”

“Hey, girl!” She chirps, and you can hear voices in the background so you assume she’s somewhere busy. “Just landed in Florida!”

“You flew to Florida?” You ask, choking slightly. “Since when?”

“Don’t you remember? I told you! The team needed extra people since we’re staying here for longer than a night.”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Is all you say because you don’t, in fact, remember, and suddenly feel really guilty about it. You haven’t actually spoken to Maria face-to-face in weeks, having been caught up in everything Andrei-related.

You haven’t talked to lots of people you were close to before Andrei came into the picture, now that you think about it. It’s a problem you’re sure to reflect on when you’re done talking to your friend.

“...bunch of us are going out tonight since the game isn’t until later tomorrow night, including a lot of the team.”

Maria’s voice tunes back in, and you shake yourself out of your thoughts to catch-up. “Really?” You inquire, now suddenly interested. “Is Andrei going with them?”

You could ask him yourself, sure, but you don’t really talk about that stuff, what he does or what you do in your free time. It always felt invasive to ask because you weren’t quite sure if you even had the right to, considering the nature of your relationship.

You doubt he thinks about what you do when you’re not with him, anyway, so you always just assume you can live in the moment with him and have that be good enough.

“Dunno,” She replies. “Can’t you ask him yourself? You’re seeing the man, after all.” You can hear the smirk in her voice at the last sentence.

“Um,” You stall, because no, you can’t just ask. “He just got off the plane, I don’t want to bother him.”

“Mhm,” Maria hums, and you can’t tell if she’s suspicious or not by her tone alone. “True. I’ll just text you if anything interesting happens, okay? Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” You can’t help but laugh at her sudden hastiness, and soon enough she’s hanging up the phone with the claim that the team bus is there to take her to the hotel.

As your call with Maria is in the early afternoon, you have a while to wait before all night life in Florida begins, so any updates will take time to roll in. You know this, and yet you can’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.

Distracting yourself by shopping helps, as does meeting up with a few of the WAG’s for a late lunch. You’re able to put your anxiety in the back of your mind for the rest of the day, and as the sun sets you pull back up to Andrei’s house and let yourself in with the spare key given to you, mind at peace as you float around his living space in preparation for bed.

You almost considered his place your home now, rather than your actual apartment. You’ve been spending so much time here, with him and also alone as everything with him seems to be going so good… When you settle into his bed, wearing one of Andrei’s large t-shirts and boxers, you check your phone one last time for any updates.

There’s a few Instagram notifications, one or two emails from your university, only one message in the groupchat with the WAG’s, and a text from Andrei which is what you zero in on first.

Settled in the hotel now. Leg is hurting, so I’m going to bed early tonight. Text you tomorrow, okay?

There’s no silly emojis, no indication of any emotion in his text, and yet you read the message with a smile, insecurities officially gone. His teammates are going out tonight, not him, and you don’t have to worry about Maria texting you later because there would be nothing to update you on.

How could you have ever doubted him?

You fall asleep peacefully, unbeknownst to the fact that long after midnight, your phone begins blowing up with silent notifications from Maria. She does, in fact, send you updates of her night out, but not updates you’ll smile at when you wake up the next day.

Sunlight filtered through closed eyes is what has you slowly awakening to the world of consciousness, and you stretch your arms with a yawn before reaching for your phone first thing. It’s hot to the touch, and at first you attribute that to it being stuck under your pillow the entire night, but upon unlocking the screen you discover that that is not the case.

WTF did you and Andrei break up?????

He’s here with the rest of the guys and he’s highkey flirting with some randos???

I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were done w/ him!

You’re prettier than them btw. I snuck a few pics

Several more messages from Maria have taken over your inbox, those are just the first you see. It takes your brain a minute to catch-up, but when it finally does you’re sitting up with bated breath as you tap on one of the images she sent.

It’s definitely Andrei—you’d know his face anywhere. He is, in fact, surrounded by girls in the picture, his arm wrapped around the waist of a gorgeous blonde with a drink in his other hand, and it’s so reminiscent of the way he holds you at clubs that you know, you know immediately that this is what you meant to him all along.

The affectionate name-calling, gentle hand-holding and constant touching… You thought he looked back at you like you hung the moon, but now you’re realizing that maybe you were just projecting the reflection of your own starstruck eyes instead.

You sit up in bed, hand pressed to your forehead as a sudden headache rips through your brain. What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Remembering that you’re actually in this man’s house, in his clothes, too, has you jumping up like you’ve been burned, and you quickly exit the bedroom to collapse on the couch instead.

“Oh my god,” You whisper to yourself, in disbelief as you click through more of the images sent to you from last night. There’s no denying to yourself that he was with these women, all while supposedly having a significant other waiting for him at home.

There’s no one to witness the slow breakdown of your sanity, and you can’t even cry because you’re so in shock about what you’re seeing

Is this real? Are you real? Is this really happening?

It’s almost like a switch in your brain goes off, and very quickly you drop your phone. You take a deep breath, you bury your raging emotions, and you stand up from the couch to start your day.

You refuse to allow yourself to break down now. Not when you still haven’t spoken to him. At the very least you’ll wait until you have an explanation…

To confront him on your very strong feelings you’ve been doing your best to ignore until now, because they’re too real in the wake of this discovery to just vanish away like you’ve done before.

You need to know where you stand with him. Truly, because these pictures you can’t stop thinking about? It’s too much. You can’t pretend it doesn’t feel like thousands of little knives stabbing your heart repeatedly even if it all means nothing to him.

Everything goes back to normal. Everything is fine. You never saw those pictures, ignored Maria's continuing calls and acted as if your world wasn’t suddenly tilted on its axis.

Andrei doesn’t text you at all throughout the day, which can probably be attributed to preparation of game three, but all you can think about are the girls he might be texting.

Because he certainly isn’t texting you.

Game three results in a loss, a bad one, and it would pain you to see the reactions on their faces filtered through the television if you weren’t so numb.

He still doesn’t text you. Doesn’t call, either, and Maria eventually gives up on trying to reach you as game four approaches.

The impending doom of Andrei bares down on you like a vice, slowly strangling you in the screaming silence of his house you still remain in. Maybe this is something you should have seen coming because it isn’t the first time he’s gone radio silent, you just assumed he was busy—because that’s what he told you.

You’re starting to think that maybe you shouldn’t have listened.

You love him though, right? That’s why you believed him? That’s what you’re feeling right now, why it’s like you can barely breathe when you think of his smile or the way he’s betrayed you so?

The Panthers sweep the Hurricanes, a complete four-game victory that sends Andrei and the rest of the team licking their wounds all the way back to North Carolina. You don’t watch the fourth game with anyone but yourself and a bottle of wine while catching up on homework for one of your classes.

Becoming so close to Andrei meant you became close to the rest of his teammates too, to the point where you’d consider some of them your good friends, so seeing their faces broadcasted live after the final goal is devastating to see.

Not as devastating as the text you receive, though, in the midst of trying to figure out what to say to him the moment he steps foot inside his house.

I won’t be home tonight, heading straight out with some of the younger guys. I will see you tomorrow

Well. You can’t say you’re surprised. You’re willing to bet money he’s out sleeping with some random girl whose name he won’t remember the next day. Instead of letting the anxiety take over, anger takes its place instead.

And boy do you run with it because anger is so much better than feeling powerless. It simmers in your blood, a wildfire settling low in your stomach until you’re practically shaking while waiting for Andrei to walk through the front door the next day.

When he finally does, you’re so mad you’re numb. Your anger has turned you into a ghost, an attempt at protecting your fragile heart from more heartbreak likely to fall upon you the moment he tries to charm you back into his good graces.

Once he spots you sitting on the couch, he smiles in greeting. It’s soft, and you’d like to say affectionate, but you no longer can tell how deep his feelings run for you.

Clearly, not deep enough.

“Kisa,” He says. “How are you? I’m sorry I was out late.”

“It’s fine,” You respond tightly. Andrei doesn’t seem to notice, merely nods before walking past you to the kitchen. You follow him silently, trying to figure out how to phrase your next words.

You end up settling on a subtle approach. “I’m sorry about the games… I know it must’ve sucked having to watch.”

He scoffs immediately, mutters something you don’t catch but still doesn’t turn around to face you as he rummages through his fridge. “It definitely was not fun to sit there, no.” He replies.

“Is that why you didn’t come back last night? You were coping with the loss?” You’re hoping your strong reference to his late-night escapades will spark something in him, but alas you still seem to be wrong and all he does is cast you a furtive glance before going back to his business.

God, you were just going to have to wring this out of him, weren’t you?

“Andrei,” You start, taking a deep breath. He still doesn’t stir. “Andrei, I know.”

Finally, he stops. Pauses mid-motion of whatever he’s doing, and his shoulders seem to tense in preparation of your foreboding words.

“There’s other girls, right? It’s not just me?” Your voice is already wobbling, and you’re glad he’s still refusing to face you because your eyes are slowly filling with tears, the agony of these last few days catching up to you.

This is when Andrei finally turns around. He meets your eyes last after scanning up and down your body; the clothes you’re wearing that aren’t his, your nails digging into your hands, and finally the bright flush of your face as you struggle not to explode.

“What do you mean?” Is what he says, looking at you calculatingly.

“Don’t play dumb with me, ‘Drei,” You whisper, invisible wires constricting around your throat as you force yourself to continue speaking. “Maria told me. She saw you. And you lied to me.”

Andrei doesn’t speak. He just stares, fingers clenching and unclenching like he can’t decide if he should approach you or not. After what seems like hours of silent battle, he replies, starting out by saying your name like a warning. “She… Maria had no right to tell you that.”

“Because I’m not actually your girlfriend, right?” Your response is immediate, and it hurts him if the flinch on his face is anything to go by. “You don’t owe me anything. Not a title, responsibility. You never promised me any of that so sleeping with other girls is perfectly okay.”

Everything you’re saying is true but it’s all wrong the way you’re looking at each other. Tears are now openly streaming down your cheeks and Andrei hasn’t moved since the moment you opened your mouth.

“Nothing to say?” It’s defeated, your entire demeanor as your shoulders sag and you fight the urge to collapse. “Yeah. I—I wouldn’t know what to say either.”

“I’m sorry,” Andrei whispers, and he doesn’t fight you which makes it all the more devastating. Everything you’re saying is true and it’s still all so wrong but he isn’t fighting you and wow, you’re really about to lose him, aren’t you?

“I think the worst part of this for me is that I actually let myself fall in love with you.” It’s your last-ditch effort of getting something out of him, anything that proves this isn’t completely one-sided on your end.

Andrei looks gutted at that. But he steels his resolve, his eyes go cold and he clenches his jaw as you try, one last time, to reach him.

“Do you love me?”

He’s staring at the wall behind you. No words fall from the lips you’ve kissed a thousand times until they finally do, and this is when you come to the realization that you’re ruined. You won’t ever look at another man the same because Andrei will forever haunt you in everything that you are and what you do.

“No. I don’t.”

You don’t put up much of a fight after that. You wave your white flag and slip past him to grab the small bag you’d packed earlier in preparation.

Andrei doesn’t move from his spot in the kitchen once. His face is tight, eyes dark and anguished as you drop his spare key on the counter. You look at him one last time, will him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t.

He never does—so you leave and you don’t look back.

It hurts worse because there really wasn’t a fight. There was no screaming, breaking glass, hurling insults at each other; it was a quiet acceptance of the end of a relationship that had no chance of lasting.

That’s what gets you. Not just because it’s over, but because he doesn’t love you like you love him.

You can’t believe you let yourself fall for it.

When you finally make it back to your apartment it feels like walking into an alternate reality, especially after an agonizing drive back full of nothing but silence and your thoughts.

You’ve practically lived with Andrei the last few months so much that you’ve forgotten you had a life before him. Maria comes to your mind immediately at that thought, and you can’t think of anything else you need more right now than your best friend.

Her phone only rings twice before she picks up. She says your name warily, likely because she hasn’t heard a word from you in two days.

“Hey,” You whimper, and you hate that you can tell how broken you sound. “Um, you were right. About Andrei. I… Talked to him about it. We’re done.”

There’s silence on the other end for several moments. Then:

“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry. I’m coming over, and I’m bringing the fattest bottle of wine known to man, okay?”

You can’t help but laugh through your tears.

“Don’t respond, you can’t say no. I’ll see you in a few!”

And, well, you do nothing but let her hang up as you stare at your blank lock screen for a minute. Something possesses you to try and freshen up even though it’s just Maria, so you make your way to your bathroom.

Opening the door, your eyes land on your reflection in the mirror, your tear-stained eyes the same color red as the lipstick you wore the first time you met him. The same red of your heart, too, as you feel the shattering of it now more than ever.

It all goes back to him. Everything about you, your identity as ‘his girl’ reducing you to someone who doesn’t exist without him.

Fuck you, Andrei, you want to yell. Fuck you and fuck everything you put me through.

As you furiously rub your eyes, you realize you don’t know who you are anymore. You let yourself be molded into an unfamiliar version of yourself, into someone just for Andrei to want to keep around.

The tears start again, and you’re left sniffling in the suffocating silence of your bathroom. The only person who knew you, the you now, is gone.

And suddenly, you find yourself alone.

Well… Not totally alone. “Fuck him!” Maria shouts after she breaks into your apartment (she has your spare key) after you’d collapsed onto your couch and refused to open the door. “Seriously, fuck him. You’re way too good for him.”

“Weren’t you the one who convinced me to sleep with him in the first place?” Is your weak rebuttal, muffled and almost imperceptible as your head is burrowed in a pillow.

Your friend tsks, likely waving her arms around in that expressive way she does. “Yes, well. I never claimed to see the future. But now we know him for the piece of shit he is!”

Maria is your closest friend, yes, but you also know her to be someone who tells you what you want to hear. Right now, you’re feeling vengeful and angry, so she’s feeding into those emotions to make you feel better.

You know, in two months time or however long it takes you to process this, when you start missing him and tiptoe around the idea of calling him, she’ll support you then, too.

Which probably isn’t what you need, but, whatever. You’re just grateful you have someone on your side.

“I need…” You start, not quite sure how to phrase what you’re wanting. “I need to forget.”

“A one nightstand type of forget or get so drunk you pass out type of forget?”

You wrinkle your nose at the thought of sleeping with someone so soon. As much as you hate it, you don’t think you’ll ever stop craving Andrei’s body.

No man ever could make you feel that good…

“Get drunk,” You say, quirking a small smile at the whoop she lets out. “I can’t fuck someone right now. At least not yet.”

“Yeah,” The blonde agrees, sighing almost wistfully. “I’d feel the same if I knew what his dick felt like.”

“Maria!” You shriek, throwing a spare pillow as hard as you can her way. It misses, but does the job of lightening the mood and keeps you giggling the rest of the night.

She does her job in making you forget, though. Makes you put on one of your shortest dresses and gets you drink after drink until you’re hunched over a toilet in the back of some bar gagging your stomach out.

You wake up the next day with the worst hangover ever, but Maria is fairing the same and somehow you consider it worth it. Maybe you can live your life again without him.

You’ve done it before, right?

And really, it’s ridiculous when you let yourself think about how you’d only been seeing the man for five months and he completely managed to send your world careening in that timespan. So, you don’t let yourself think about it. Instead, you live.

For yourself, for your friends, for your heart that won’t ever be full but feels a little bit better every time you wake up each day without Andrei next to you.

You graduate university with your bachelor’s and get a job that’s even better than your last, and you make a really good group of friends at said-job without Maria’s help (though she’ll always be your best). The summer passes by with melancholy laughter and gentle healing, and while your first love always remains in the back of your mind, you think about him less.

So much less that you lose track of time, not even realizing that October of twenty twenty-three is here and the NHL season is starting back up. You haven’t spoken to any of the WAG’s since you broke it off with Andrei, assuming you would no longer be welcome in the ‘clique’ and preferring to separate yourself from a group associated with someone who brought you so much pain, so there haven’t been any reminders about the new season from them.

The memories of him are fleeting. They’ll come to you at random times, and now that you’ve lived in the past yet again, you can forget about the end where Andrei is a distant thought but every time his name is brought up it squeezes your heart so much you can’t breathe.

You’re doing better. Truly, you are. You’d stopped crying over him long ago, and you might have gone to class with swollen eyes and showed up to work despondent, but you’re working through it in your own way. Healing isn’t linear but you’re making progress slowly but surely.

One day, you wake up with a sudden determination to officially ‘get back out there’, per Maria’s words. There’s nothing spectacular about this day; it’s only mid-November, the weather in that awkward stage of autumn morphing into winter.

Maybe it’s because the night before you’d succumbed to the urge to search up the Hurricanes’ schedule, curious to when they’d be home and not.

It’s only a coincidence that they have a home game when you call your friends from work, asking if they’d like to go out after everyone gets off. It’s also a coincidence when you meet someone at said-bar you attend, and it’s absolutely insane how if you squint he kind of looks like Andrei.

Oh, but he’s so, so sweet… His name is Jack and he buys you and your friends drinks, keeps a respectful distance yet never strays far when you’re wrapped into another conversation. He asks for your number at the end of the night and you give it to him without hesitation, taking note of the way he creates your contact in his phone himself.

“You like cats?” He asks as he’s still typing away, and your breath catches in your throat because it’s a question that makes you think of the first night you met him. When you don’t respond, he gestures towards your keychain attached to the strap of your handbag.

“You have little kittens on your keychain. I think that’s what I’ll add to your name, yeah?” Jack laughs a little shyly, and it’s cute but you keep replaying kisa in your mind over and over in a Russian accent you never could quite imitate.

“Yeah, I do like cats,” You say, flushing at the sudden amusement in his eyes. “I like them a lot.”

Jack doesn’t waste any time texting you the next day, and the normalcy of it freaks you out a little. Where’s the anxiety? The stomach-dropping nerves that come with talking to someone new? The constant wondering if they like you or not?

It’s so safe and secure that it hurts, because it was never like that before.

Everyone in your life is so supportive, though, but that only makes it worse because they can see how good this man is for you, but why can’t you? You feel like pulling your hair out when he texts you good morning and goodnight and sick to your stomach when he shows up during your lunch break with flowers.

However, there’s no one is more enthusiastic about Jack's new presence in your life than Maria.

“He’s a dream guy, honestly,” She swoons, kicking her feet back on her ottoman. “You’re so lucky. I would kill for a guy I met at a bar to be so smitten with me he shows up to my job with flowers.”

You hum in agreement, unable to come up with something to say. “He… Yeah, it’s nice, I guess.”

The blonde eyes you from where you’re curled up on her couch, deliberately avoiding her stare as you mindlessly watch whatever is on the TV. “You guess? He’s perfect!”

“On paper,” You retort, huffing slightly in frustration at yourself because why can’t you see what everyone else sees? “I don’t really know him.”

“Yet. You don’t really know him yet.” She helpfully points out. “Why don’t you want to give him a chance?”

“I… I do. I am giving him a chance. Maybe I’m just not feeling it.”

“He’s not Andrei, babe.”

You fight the powerful urge to scoff. I know, you want to scream. I know. That’s the problem.

Jack is too perfect for you. You want the ups and downs, the electrifying chemistry, the undeniable connection you’ve felt with no one else before. You crave the feeling of those past five months, of being with someone who lit you up to your very core.

It’s been almost eight months and you still can’t get him out of your head.

You give Jack a rightful chance, though, like everyone in your life is begging you to. You can’t bring yourself to end it because there really is nothing wrong, it’s a perfect getting-to-know-you stage which checks off all the boxes. It’s just that you don’t want normal because normal is boring.

You want chaos. And Andrei is chaos personified.

Unbeknownst to you, Maria is still very good friends with a lot of the WAG’s and talks about you when they ask. They miss you, it turns out, but your friend never tells you this in fear of sending you into a depressive spiral that tends to happen when they’re brought up. They’re ecstatic to hear that your life seems to be going so well after the breakup, especially after seeing Andrei’s reaction to it all.

This is something Maria doesn’t tell you, either. She’s such a good friend, protecting your heart like that. Andrei did not come out of his house after you ended it the same person; he was a little darker, a little angrier, frustrated in a way that suggested nothing could be done to fix it.

It doesn’t help that he couldn’t take it out by playing hockey, because he wasn’t cleared to play until the end of October, a month into the regular season.

He never admits his sour mood is partly to blame you for. Not that it’s your fault—he’s the one who fucked up, not you.

Never you.

Maria knows all of this and still gives him the cold shoulder for his treatment of you. None of the girls were very happy after finding out while his teammates just gave him awkward pats on the back. It doesn’t stop him from finding out about you, though, and what you’re up to.

The WAG’s talk. They’re gossip machines, and while normally he hates them for it because he always has to watch what he says around them, this time he’s thankful because they tell their husbands and boyfriends everything.

He’s at Martin and his girlfriend, Nykki’s, apartment watching their cavapoo, Gigi, when he finds out you’re seeing someone new. They’re heatedly talking about something when they walk in and don’t see him on the floor cuddling Gigi, so he doesn’t interrupt.

“I mean, I’m not surprised, but wow. It certainly took her a while to move on, didn’t it?”

He hears a smack, assumes Nykki has hit him on the arm like she typically does when he pisses her off. “She loved him, of course it took time!”

“Ow!” He hisses, though it’s clearly in jest. “Well, yeah, but like… It’s been months. And it’s not like she’s in contact with any of us anymore to remind her of him.” Andrei notes the sourness in his teammate’s voice, feels his heart drop because he thinks he knows who they’re talking about, now.

“Still,” Nykki replies. “I was so sad after my first heartbreak. They take a while to heal from, especially when it’s not a clean ending. It’s no secret how Andrei treated her.” She’s frowning when she continues. “I wish I could give her a hug, but I get it. I wouldn’t want to see any of us, either.”

Martin sighs. “I get it, too. I sure do miss the wine she’d bring though. She had the best fucking taste, ever.”

“Of course you only miss her for her alcohol.”

Andrei decides to clear his throat at this moment. When he does so, Martin and Nykki whip their heads towards him on the floor, surprise and guilt decorating their faces when they see him holding Gigi rather dejectedly.

He starts by saying your name, even surprises himself when it comes out biting and, dare he say it… Jealous? “She’s seeing someone?”

Martin and Nykki share a glance. Gigi chooses this as the time to leap up from his lap and run towards her parents where Martin happily picks her up. “I’m going to go take her out. Thanks for watching, ‘Drei!” He quickly flees the apartment, and Nykki says something under her breath as she glares after him.

They both know Andrei isn’t letting this go.

“Do you remember Maria, her friend? Works in the Hurricanes’ marketing department?” She eventually says, joining him on the floor.

“The blonde one? Yes,” He replies, and even though there are many blondes working for the team he knows exactly who she’s talking about. She’s your best friend, after all, and he knows everything about you.

Like how he knows you will never get over him. Conceited? Yes, but he had (has) you wrapped around his finger.

“Well, she talks to a lot of us still, despite everything that happened. And she tells us things.” Nykki pauses, almost like she’s scared to go on.

“Things like?” Andrei inquires. “How she is doing? Who she is doing?”

She glares at him then, eyes narrowing into slits. “Not that you really have a right to know, but yes.”

His fingers dig into his palms and his jaw cramps with how much he’s trying to keep from exploding.

“So, she’s seeing some guy now?” He scoffs like the very idea is incredulous. As if whatever pathetic excuse of a man you’re talking to could ever compare to him.

“She has a right to move on, Andrei. You should too. You ruined her.”

That fact remains true, but he still has no desire to ever let you go as he deliberately ignores her advice, well-meaning as it is.

How ruined could you really be if you’re already with somebody else?

Unfortunately, it’s impossible to run into you because you avoid him like the plague. You know everywhere he and his teammates frequent so you stopped showing up long ago, and he’s pretty sure you keep a several hundred-foot radius between you and PNC Arena at all times. He doesn’t blame you, but it pisses him off to know he can’t easily find you.

Christmas passes, you spend it with Jack and Andrei spends it with his Russian teammates. The New Year arrives just as quickly, and as he locks lips with some random girl at the party he’s at he thinks of you. Wonders who you’re with, if you’re kissing that guy Nykki told him about.

You actually flew back home to spend it with your parents, giving Jack some weak excuse about how you weren’t able to see them over the holidays.

North Carolina winter is in full force as February of twenty twenty-four rolls around, and your life remains inexplicably boring while Andrei’s picks up. The Hurricanes are finally having a redemption arc after their awful first-half of the season, and thus are heading out to celebrate far more often than normal.

They’re more daring in where they choose to go, too, wanting to branch out of their norms, because why not?

This is really unfortunate for you. Horrifying, actually, because you’re out with your friends, Jack, and his friends too when the team comes strolling in. Eyes instantly shoot their way, aweing at the miniature celebrities in their own right for finally bringing a good professional sports team to NC.

The moment Andrei steps foot in the establishment you know. Your skin catches fire, your ears ring, and your heart thunders inside your chest because only man can set off your senses so powerfully.

You look away from Jack - who thankfully doesn’t notice, he’s sucked into a conversation with one of his friends - and find Andrei approaching the bar with Martin and Seth. He hasn’t noticed you yet and you try to keep that from happening as you sink down into your seat, flashing your friends an exaggerated smile when they eye you curiously.

You’re unable to hide for long, though, when a song bursts from the speakers and sends everyone into an excited frenzy, your group included as they crowd the dance.

Luckily you’re able to escape that particular rally and wave Jack off when he asks you if you’re okay. “I’m fine,” You shout over the bass rattling your eardrums. “Just letting my drink settle a bit.”

He doesn’t question you, merely nods and smiles before disappearing somewhere with his friends. Now, you’re alone, and you can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing because now you have a perfect view of Andrei and his teammates leaning against the bar, looking far too good as they do so.

You can’t keep your eyes off him. You never could, especially can’t now as you soak up every little change your eyes can see. He has a scruff now, a sexy five o’clock shadow that you know firsthand how it feels between your thighs. His hair is a little longer, too—you wonder if it’s still as soft as you remember.

Jack suddenly appears from a break in the crowd and oh, yeah, fuck you can’t be thinking about your ex like this, can you? No, you aren’t officially with Jack, but it’s still wrong. He likes you so much, you know this, and you… Don’t hate him?

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you bemoan to yourself, torn between the angel on your left and the devil on your right that don’t give you the chance to decide because you feel eyes baring into your skull, begging you to notice them. Your entire being freezes, stuck in between some weird limbo as you lock eyes with Andrei for the first time in months.

There’s no one else but you and him as neither one of you refuses to break first, and you only lose eye contact when a group of people walks between you. When they’re gone and you’re able to freely look again, you realize he’s gone from his spot at the bar. All his teammates are still there, and they’ve now spotted you too.

Would it be wrong to call an uber and just tell Jack you felt sick?

Your name is suddenly being whispered into your ear, and you would have flinched if the sound of his voice didn’t have you relaxing back into your seat. You refuse to look up at first, because if you look at him so close to you again you’ll fold.

“Andrei,” You greet, quietly. “How are you?” You still aren’t looking at him, choosing to swirl around the drink in your hand instead.

“I’m good,” He replies, so close you can feel the heat of his body seeping into your skin. You lean into it almost subconsciously until he’s sliding into the booth next to you, pressing the two of you together. “How are you, my kisa?”

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.” You retort, finally meeting his eyes to cast him a withering glare.

“No?” Andrei reaches a hand up to brush some stray hairs from your face. So delicate his touch, he trails his hand down your cheek, your neck, and down your waist until landing on your thigh. You don’t stop him, either.

“That’s funny. I could have sworn that you’re mine.”

“I’m not,” You squirm under his touch, unable to push him away. “I haven’t been in months. Wasn’t ever ‘yours’ to begin with. You made sure of that.”

Andrei doesn’t appreciate the call out. The way his face twists is mean and you know whatever he’s going to say will hurt. “Right,” He scoffs, is snide with the way he tones it. “But you’re his?”

He gestures towards Jack, who thankfully is enraptured in a tense game of pool on the other side of the room. You don’t question how he already knows that’s who you’re with.

“I’m not anyone’s, Andrei.”

“Yes you are. You might have thought that because we haven’t seen each other we are just over?” He leans into you, doesn’t let you break eye contact as he gets so close your noses touch. “No. I bet me being so close to you right now has you soaked, and you want to know how I know that?”

Your throat is tight as you swallow. You can’t look away as you move to shake your head, but strange, because it comes out as a nod instead.

“You’re not ‘over me’, malyshka. You’ll never be over me. You love me.”

His grin is feral, his words biting as they cut through you at such a vulnerable level it has you flinching back from his touch immediately.

“Oh, fuck you, Andrei,” You hiss, an angry sheen of tears starting to gloss over your eyes. “Fuck you. I don’t love you anymore—especially not now.”

You move to slip around him but his arm shoots out and stops you in your tracks, leaving you frozen as he stands to tower over you.

“Careful,” He murmurs. “Your boy over there might think something’s wrong. Maybe I should introduce myself, make sure he knows I would never dare hurt you.”

“You don’t have to touch me to hurt me. You did that plenty without having to lift a finger.” You retort. “Now, get out of my way. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“But what if I want to talk to you?” You really hate the height difference between the two of you right now because it takes no effort at all for him to slide a muscular arm around your waist and keep you glued to his side. “Maybe I have missed you.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” You mutter, but he ignores you as he begins to lead you away from the booth you were in before. “My friends will wonder where I am if I’m not at the booth when they get back.”

“Not worried about your boy?” He mocks, noting the way you don’t mention Jack at all. “They won’t have enough time to notice.”

You narrow your eyes at his insinuating words as he stops at the bar, waving down the bartender who comes immediately. “His name is Jack.” You mutter, thinking he can’t hear you. He continues talking, ignoring you, and you’re unable to hear him over the noise so you don’t bother trying to understand what he’s asking for.

Soon enough there’s a drink sliding across the bar counter and Andrei pushes it in front of you. You eye the glass, making note of the fact that the liquid is red. “Vodka cranberry,” He confirms what you’re already thinking.

You flash back to the night you first met and suddenly you want nothing to do with the drink in front of you. “No thanks, I don’t want it.” You say, trying to step away.

You don’t get far, though, because he’s grabbing your wrist and tugging you rather harshly back to him. “Drink it,” He demands, watches your eyes and the way they dart from his face and back to the glass nervously. He sighs, then, like he’s realized something and lets go of your wrist only to land back on your hip. “It’s… Nothing is wrong with it. I didn’t touch it.”

He thinks you’re worried about being drugged? You almost laugh but manage to hold it back, because of course he doesn’t remember that this is the first drink he ever got you.

Your heart beats a little faster as you concede, finally picking up the drink and taking a tiny sip. He waits for your reaction like he’s the one who made it. “It’s good,” You finally say, licking the sweetness from your lips.

Andrei watches you, your eyes, your lips, everything about as time seems to stop and it’s just you and him, like it’s supposed to be.

You haven’t changed all that much, and you can tell he likes that. Your hair is a little shorter, you’re perhaps a little thinner now that you’re not on a college student diet, but you’re still you.

Andrei hasn’t changed either. You’re the same yet so different, and it’s incredibly difficult resisting the temptation to fall back into old habits.

“I’ve missed you,” He admits quietly, and you think it’s sincere this time. You wouldn’t have heard if you weren’t standing so close together.

Your heart thunders in your chest. You might be sweating out of nerves, or maybe it’s just the club. Your hands itch to touch him, and with more alcohol in you thanks to the cranberry you don’t stop Andrei as he succumbs to his urges first and uses one, large hand to cup your cheek.

You shudder as he caresses the skin, his thumb landing on your bottom lip and stroking it lightly. “Andrei,” You breathe, pupils blown wide. “You can’t—we can’t…”

He tilts his head, reminiscent of a dog. “Why not? You are not single?” He has you. He knows you know he does. You aren’t nearly as committed to Jack as much as you’d like yourself to be.

“I can’t do that to him,” You try weakly, already feeling your will bending to the persuasiveness of his touch.

His head lowers, hand remaining on your cheek as he brushes your lips together. You crave it, you realize, and move to fully push your mouths together but he’s pulling back before you get the chance.

“Go to the bathroom.” He says. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Will you?” You ask, the double-meaning clear as you stare at each other, neither willing to break.

Andrei’s face is unreadable. You can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing as his hands land on your hips and he turns you around in the direction of the restrooms. “Go,” He taps your ass, nudging you forward. “I’ll be there.”

You give in this time. You’re aware of the astronomically bad decision you’re making as you cut the line, faking a sick stomach and whispering ‘sorry’ over and over again in your head as the nice ladies let you through.

When you close the door you immediately make your way to the mirror. Your reflection stares back at you, and with mussed hair and smudged lipstick you should be feeling ashamed.

All you feel is anticipation, though. For Andrei’s hands on your body, for his mouth to kiss all the spots he’s missed.

Several minutes go by and the knocks on the bathroom door become more frequent. You think he’s bailed on you - it certainly wouldn’t be the first time - but then you hear his voice outside.

“Da, yes, she’s in there,” A pause. “She’s my girlfriend, she needs me.”

Your breath catches in your throat, turning to face the door as he knocks and can hear his voice more clearly.

Yes, you do need him.

“Kisa,” He says, slightly muffled but you feel the effect he has on you is all the same. “I’m here. Let me in?” He’s almost begging, and you quickly unlock the door as he pushes through.

His smile is mischievous as he closes the door behind him. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He purposefully raises his voice, shows faux concern and plays it up in case anyone is listening outside.

“You’re so dramatic,” You say, pulling him down to you by the collar of his shirt. Now that you’re alone you don’t bother pretending you don’t want him as much as you do. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Andrei relents immediately, closing the distance between the two of you. Both his hands come up to the sides of your head to keep you in place, tilting you in whatever way he likes. His lips are just as soft as you remember, and your bodies move together like they were never apart.

He’s demanding as he begins pushing you back, crowding you against the tiny bathroom wall. His words from outside come back to you suddenly, and you break the kiss to catch a breath as his lips begin a trail across your cheeks. “Girlfriend?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “I had to get them to let me through somehow.” It’s not what you want to hear but you lose the urge to fight him on it as he reaches your neck and begins sucking little hickeys onto the sensitive skin. Your head falls back with a sigh, uncaring of your hair catching whatever germs might lie on the wall.

You let Andrei do what he wants to your neck for a few moments, then when the urge to taste his lips comes again you grab the back of his hair and pull him up to you. He goes willingly, and you moan into his mouth as he continues to push back against you so hard you can feel his dick through his jeans.

He pulls back much too soon for your taste, and you try to follow but suddenly one of the hands holding your head comes down to wrap around your throat, restricting your breath as he pushes you back. You go to speak, but his other hand is leaving your face to unbutton his jeans one-handed.

You watch, eyes heavy-lidded. “‘Drei?” The weight on your neck is comfortable, so you don’t bother moving as he shoves the rest of his jeans along with his boxers down his thick thighs.

“You want to talk to other guys?” He starts with a bite. “Then you can remember the taste of my cock in your mouth while you do it.”

Your blood pressure skyrockets as the hand on your throat leaves to pull your hair back out of your face, grasps it like a rope, and pushes you down to your knees.

You’re at eye-level with his cock as it bobs in front of you, angry and swollen with beads of pre-cum leaking from the tip. He stares down at you expectantly, has to hold back a groan at your wide-eyed gaze looking so innocent.

As your lips wrap around his tip he’s reminded of the fact that no, you are not innocent. He made you that way. Fucked you like no man ever could. Ruined you for everyone but him. His feelings for you are complicated, but he does understand one thing…

Andrei doesn’t want you, not really. But he hates to think about you with somebody else.

Your tongue is masterful in its work as it swirls around his head, and once you get comfortable you begin going down. His head falls back and this time he doesn’t hold back his noises as your warm, wet mouth envelopes him.

“Missed this mouth,” He grunts as you suck. “Like it much better when you can’t speak.”

It’s insulting and degrading, yet it doesn’t fail to turn you on as you squirm and rub your thighs together in hopes it’ll give you the friction you need.

His hand in your hair soon starts pulling, sliding your mouth forward and back in increasing motions as he gets closer. He’s unabashedly groaning now, and you can see his abs clench when you suck a certain way.

Suddenly, you have the urge to have him fall apart before you. Maybe it’s revenge, wanting to see him lose control for you like you’ve done for him so many times; you tilt your head, using your tongue to stroke the sensitive underside of his cock and that has him jerking into you.

“Fuck,” He hisses. “Good girl. Just like that.” The praise goes directly to your clit, and you whimper as it throbs with no relief.

Despite being apart for almost a year, you still know what every twitch of his body means. You know he’s close because the hand in your hair is gripping you tighter, you can feel the steadily increasing tempo of his heartbeat through his pulsing cock, and his thighs are ever so slightly trembling underneath your hands.

You want him to come in your mouth. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more; your efforts increase and you dig your nails into his skin to hear him hiss and as his thrusts pick up he starts hitting the back of your throat.

Internally thanking your lacking gag reflex, you don’t flinch as he picks up speed, now blatantly using your mouth for his own pleasure with little regard for your comfort. “Shit, baby,” He blurts, desperate. “I’m gonna cum.” You hum in response, the vibrations of the sound finally throwing him over the edge.

Andrei throws his head back for a final time, one long groan emulating from his unfairly sculpted chest as his cum hits the back of your throat. You’ve always loved the taste of him and this time is no different as you suck him deeper, not wanting to waste a drop.

He takes a few moments to collect himself and in that timeframe your ears slowly stop ringing and you come back to reality, finding that your knees ache from being pressed into the floor and there are loud voices coming from outside the bathroom door.

As you move to stand, he too seems to remember where you’re at and uses both arms to pull you the rest of the way until you’re back to standing. You swipe your hair out of your face as his thumb comes to your lip, wiping away a stray drop of his release.

Despite the post-orgasmic clarity, he looks at you with softness and something else swimming in his dark eyes. “You’re still good at that,” He states. “Been sucking anyone else off?” His words are quiet but every bit threatening as you note the possessiveness in his tone.

“No,” You gasp as his thumb pushes its way into your mouth. “Just you. Only you,”

“That’s right,” He says. “Just me. Only me.” Then he’s spinning you around, fingers remaining pressed into your mouth while the other trails up your spine until he’s gripping the back of your neck. “Hear them outside?” He asks.

The ‘them’ he’s referring to, you realize, are the voices outside the bathroom. They’re much louder now, a few knocks mixed in, and you wonder with slight panic how a manager hasn’t come to unlock the door yet.

“They sound very angry, don’t they?” That same hand on the back of your neck strokes your skin, slowly working its way down to your waistband. “So we better make it quick. Hands on the wall, kisa,”

You know the moment he pulls down your pants he’ll find you to be unabashedly soaking. Despite claiming to be in a hurry, he takes his time working open the button of your jeans, grazing the skin above your panties before ever so slowly sliding them down your legs.

“Andrei,” You hiss, impatient. “Hurry up!” As the hand in your mouth retreats, you realize you’re both needy and nervous, an overwhelming combination.

He only laughs. “Someone is needy,” He mocks, holding your hips in place when you try wiggling against him. “Patience.” Leaning into your ear he murmurs this, staying this way as he fully slides your jeans past your knees.

Andrei sneaks his hand in between your thighs, something resembling a growl rumbling from his chest when his fingers find your dripping folds, feeling how you throb for him. “Missed this pussy even more,” He breathes, lubricating his fingers with your slick before slowly circling your clit. Your arms shake from where they hold you up and it’s a battle to keep yourself from collapsing.

“You are just made for me, aren’t you?”

You’re so wet you practically suck him in as he guides his dick to your entrance, and he wastes no preamble as he pushes in. If he thought your mouth was heaven after so much time apart, the feeling of your pussy squeezing him in so deep doesn’t even compare. His hands are digging into your hips as he ruts into you fully with one thrust, panting as your warmth contracts around him.

“Still so fucking tight,” He marvels like he can’t believe it, like it’s a dream you feel even better than when he replays the memories of you on repeat. “You been waiting for me?” He’s not expecting a response as his rhythm picks up, finding a familiar pace for the both of you that has him swearing under his breath and you struggling not to shout your pleasure to the rooftops.

“God,” You cry out when the head of his cock directly hits your g-spot, your hips jerking up so hard you would have fallen if it weren’t for Andrei holding you up. “Fuck, Andrei, fuck, I’m gonna—”

Andrei laughs, a sound that would have been more menacing if he also wasn’t gasping for air. “Already?” He mocks. “I barely touched you, baby,”

You don’t have to touch me, it’s on the tip of your tongue waiting to be blurted out. You don’t have to touch me for me to be on my knees for you. The words are ready, but instead all that comes out is a moan and maybe that’s for the best because he probably wouldn’t respond as well as he does in your dreams.

He’s unaware of your internal dilemma as he leans over you, pressing his clothed chest to your back. “Gotta be fast,” He reminds you, as if you’d forgotten. “You ready?”

“No, I—I can’t,” Because you don’t want this to be over. You don’t want to cum because he’ll follow you right after and then when clarity hits he’ll leave you again and you’ll be back to square one.

“Yes, you can” He croons. “I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen to you, I’m right here.” You want to sob as one of his hands leaves your hip and finds the junction of your bodies, gentle fingers prodding your pussy spread-wide around him until he finds your clit and rubs.

Your body is trembling and you can’t tell if you’re trying to move towards him or away, but it doesn’t matter anyways because he has you trapped between the wall and his body and the unrelenting pace of his hips slamming into you.

You have a sudden urge to look him in the eyes before you come undone by his cock and his fingers, so you crane your head to the side and watch him watch you. His hair is damp from sweat at the corners of his hairline, his lips slightly open as he pants and you think you spot him lick his lips when he catches you staring. You go to say something but he swoops down, catching your mouth with his own and promptly shuts you up.

Andrei doesn’t relent in his motions despite the uncomfortable position, not letting you break from his lips by removing his hand at your hip and gripping your face to keep you right here. He owns you, at this point, mind, body, and soul as your lungs beg for breath while your clit throbs beneath his fingers and oh, oh, there it is and you’re gone—

You feel the rough pads of his fingers bullying your clit but you don’t really focus on it until now, how the calloused ridges carelessly sweep over you with no semblance of relief and only when you body abruptly freezes does he part from you, but only slightly, leaving a hair’s width of space between your lips. “Beautiful,” He says, under his breath so quietly you don’t hear him as your bones catch fire and your brain short-circuits.

Heat sears you from the inside-out and you do nothing but endure as Andrei rocks you through it. There’s tears of ecstasy streaming down your face, you’re sure of it now, and you think he’s wiping them from your cheeks but you can’t open your eyes enough to check.

It takes a few minutes, but once your heart stops racing you can hear your favorite voice swearing behind you and only then do you comprehend him still moving inside you, but before you can whine at the sensitivity he’s stilling with a long, drawn-out groan.

You don’t dare speak first, nor are you the first to move. The air around you is stagnant with tension as you rest your head on your arms, breathing deeply to catch your breath. What does this mean? You’re spiraling already and it’s only been minutes since your desperate fuck in this bathroom.

Eventually, Andrei moves first. He slides his softened dick from you with a hiss and you feel his cum trickling out without him there to keep it plugged in. Wrinkling your nose at the feeling of having to walk around with wet inner thighs now, you slowly stand up as his hands fall from your body. You slide your panties and jeans back up the rest of your legs, ignoring the uncomfortable sensitivity of being covered once again.

Neither of you speaks a word. You want to cry suddenly, and this time not from pleasure. “What did we just do?” You manage to choke out, your voice so hoarse you have to clear it. He’s clearly planning on just leaving without a word but you’re not going to let him.

You stare at him expectantly. He’s turned around so all you have in your view is his slide profile, clearly struggling with what to say as his jaw clenches tightly.

“Nothing,” He finally says, and he might as well just fucking stab you in the back. “We did nothing. You’re going to go back out there and pretend nothing happened because it didn’t.”

Oh, he makes you so angry. You can’t believe you’d forgotten that. “You’re serious?” You know he is but you don’t want to believe it.

Andrei meets your glassy eyes and you wish you could read him like he so easily can read you. He looks as conflicted as the day you walked out of his house for the last time, like he has so many words to say but refuses to let them fall from his lips. Just like then, you know this rendezvous means more to him than just a meaningless hookup.

If only he’d admit it…

He exhales a shaky breath as another loud knock disturbs you. “We need to go.” He dodges your question just like he dodges every issue in his life, especially in regards to you. “Come on, kisa.”

“You can’t just call me that, after—after this,” You hiss as he grabs your arm and pulls you towards the door. You panic on the inside as he unlocks it because once you leave this dirty sanctuary you know your problems will only get worse.

Strange, how Andrei manages to make everything worse despite making you feel so good.

As if your emotions don’t matter to him (they really don’t), he flashes you a grin as he drags you behind him, past the angry horde of people who, now that you think about it, definitely know you were fucking. “I know you like it.” Spoken so simply, so plain, you hate that he’s right.

You’ll always like it. Always love him. For as long as you’re hung up over him it will always come back to bite you in the ass and he knows this too.

It’s why, without shame, his arm is curled possessively around your waist as he leads you through the crowd of people. Your friends, Jack, don’t even cross your mind as he does so.

“Go find your friends,” He soon leans down to whisper in your ear. “Then find Jack. Tell him you felt sick and had to use the bathroom.”

“What if I don’t want to?” You snap, purposefully antagonizing him.

Andrei merely raises a brow at you. “You can always stay with me, with my cum dripping down your legs, and explain to everyone how you missed me so much you couldn’t stay away.”

You want to hit him. You almost do, but he continues before you actually go through with it.

“I wonder what Jack would say?” Of course he was listening to you earlier. He ignored you then, of course, but he listened.

And yeah, okay, you get it. Not a good idea to let everyone you know see you with him. He doesn’t want his friends to see him with you, either.

“Trying to get rid of me?” You ask, intending to sound sarcastic but it comes off as more insecure than you wanted it to.

You know he is, but you can’t help but ask for confirmation. Maybe it would help you move on to hear how little he actually cares for you.

“I don’t think I could get rid of you if I tried,” He replies. You can’t tell if he’s serious or not. “You’ll never get rid of me though.”

He’s right, again. You hate so much that he is because you both know you’ll be crawling back the moment he calls.

You want to cry again as his arm leaves your waist, the absence of his heat leaving you shivering.

Andrei looks at you for a long time, just appraising. He tilts his head like he doesn’t know what to think, but then he spots something behind you and starts backing up.

“I will see you again someday, kisa.” He winks at you, and then he’s gone.

Someone behind you taps your shoulder while speaking into your ear, a voice you recognize as one of the girls you came with. You should probably focus, banish Andrei from your mind, but you don’t.

You strain your neck, watching for him through the crowd. He’s back at the bar with his friends, his teammates you once knew.

He’s laughing at something one of them said. Like he wasn’t just with you, fucking you against the bathroom walls.

“Are you okay?” Your friend behind you asks, the one thing from her you do catch.

“Yeah,” You say, swallowing despite the dryness in your throat. Andrei is talking to more people now, girls that have approached him, you notice. “I’m fine.”

He looks gorgeous under the lights. You catch his brilliant smile, the glimmer of his eyes, and those lips you can never get enough of. You soon lose sight of him amidst the throng of people, but his fleeting allure forever lingers...

Like a steadfast reminder, a haunting echo of what can never be.

A/N: Well, that was fun. I hurt my own feelings writing this but it was worth it. I hope you guys enjoyed! Please remember to reblog & comment!!

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[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Bruised knuckles

request: Obsessed with your Ruhn fics! Can you please maybe do one where he gets jealous on a night out with a reader where he sees a ale button in her and he gets very possessive over his mate and she loves it

a/n: idk what it is about this man that gets me going lately. I don’t understand this.

warning: blood, fighting

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Ruhn didn’t like doing business on nights out. Especially not when you tagged along. Tonight was supposed to be different. He was supposed to take you out. A date night. One that was already long overdue. He had been a shit boyfriend lately. Fuck if he didn’t think he was edging into the territory of an ex at times. So, he had stepped up. Cut down on the time with the boys. Cut his work short just to pick you up from work.

So to say that he had practically burned the phone in his hands when the message pinged. But it was from his sister. Interest conflict. Both were family in different ways. But Ruhn had always dreamed his relationship with Bryce would be different. Better. So denying her felt like burning another bridge. And she rarely asked. “I’ll be real quick," he muttered against the shell of your ear. “And then I will be fully yours all night." A boyish grin on his lips, one that shined brighter than the gentle smile on your face. But you were always gentle. So gentle and sweet. Ruhn knew that he had swung way higher than he could reach when he tried to smitten you the night Dec introduced you to him. “Just do your thing and come back in one piece," you muttered back, leaning in to press a kiss to Ruhn’s lips before pushing him back slightly, nudging his legs back with your heel.

Now Ruhn just wanted to get back. It had been forty minutes since he had left, and if, from the way he had been constantly glancing at his clock, the man didn’t get the message that he was done, he no longer knew what would help his case. When they finally parted ways, Rugh stopped at the bar first. He needed a couple of shots to loosen the tension in his neck. The last thing he wanted was to bring his shit mood to you. He also got you another drink that nearly shattered in Ruhn’s grip when his eyes landed on the private VIP lounge.

There was another man there. Where was his fucking security? Man, he left to look after you. The fuck sure had a death wish with the way he leaned forward. Constantly trying to brush his knuckles over your exposed legs. You didn’t seem interested. If anything, you looked annoyed. The male chatted away as if he was the most interesting thing here. While you sat there with an unamused look on your face, swirling your drink from time to time.

Ruhn shoved the glass at some random girl who was the closest to him as he strolled forward, undoing a couple of buttons on his shirt as he went. “You can touch it if you want," Ruhn’s blood vessels nearly popped at the male's words, the way he flexed his arm in front of you. “Give me a reason to not bash your teeth in,” he growled as he yanked the guy up by his shirt. "Chill, my guy, just rounding chicks up, seeing the vibe," the guy pushed back against Ruhn, laughing. “I’ll show you the vibe," Ruhn growled, his hand coming to the male's hair as he turned to drag him out.

"Ruhn," you called from behind. “Stay there," he growled back, more and more people turning to stare now. He had barely made it outside before his fist collided with the male's jaw. “You ever think," Ruhn hissed, “On coming up to women and rounding chicks up," another blow landed on his jaw, pained grounds echoing. “I will personally find you." Ruhn hissed at the bloody face in front of him. He was seeing red. Even the idea of the smallest sent off this man on you was driving him into overdrive.

The metal door creaked. “Take care of this." Your voice filled the back side of the alley. But Ruhn’s anger only rose higher as the two men who were on watch tonight came into view. “Where were you?” Ruhn growled, yanking one of them by the shirt. “We just..." the man began to say, but Ruhn quickly cut in. “Fired. Both of you," he hissed. Ready to shout when you come into view. Grasping his face. Your long nails digging into his cheeks as you scowled at him.

“Take a fucking breath in," you hissed. Your scent wrapped around him. Calming Ruhn’s mind. You always felt close to him. The mating bond made sure of it. But now… His fingers reached for your hips, pulling you slightly closer. “Popping off like a firecracker," you huffed, pushing his hands back, and making Ruhn growl. He wanted to feel you close. No, needed to. “You didn’t need to go and do all that." You threw your hands in the air, turning away from him.

Ruhn didn’t think; he let the need within him act as he reached for your neck, pulling you back against his chest. “Don’t turn away from me when you yell," he hissed into your ear. “Don’t go caveman on me," you growled back, but you didn’t push his hand away. No, instead, your fingers brushed over his. “I thought we were over this," you muttered as Ruhn leaned in, nuzzling his nose against your shoulder. Breathing you in. But there wasn’t even a single note from someone else. You. Shit tones of him and a dusting of the things you did before you had even climbed into his car tonight.

“I would have kept you locked in your cage for a while longer," you teased, reaching back to brush your fingers through his hair. “Very funny," Ruhn said. He knew that he had to work on his rage when it came to other males being near you. But the simplest thought of someone else being by your side. Someone else making you laugh. Having your full attention. This was the universe laughing at him. Poking at the fact that he haven’t been valuing who was by his side. Showing him how it would feel from another perspective.

"Hey!", Your delicate fingers brushed over his cheek. Ruhn didn’t even feel you shifting in his arms. “You blanked on me, bad boy." You pinched Ruhn’s cheek smiling, but he can’t bring himself to return the expression. “Fuck, I ruined tonight," he sighed. “You can go ahead and name me the shittest boyfriend," Ruhn huffed in defeat. “Ruhn, we already talked about this," you sighed. “We are both adults, both busy," you reasoned.

“But you don’t deserve that half-time bullshit," Ruhn hissed back. “You can and should just walk away." You stood staring at him for a heartbeat. "Ruhn," you breathe out, your heart aching. He didn’t lift his eyes to meet yours. “My love hasn’t changed just because we had a harder month," you said, stepping closer. “I missed you, yes. But I won’t just pack my bags and go. I love you, silly." Resting your chin on his chest, you tried to catch his eyes. “We’re a team," you mutter, “Even if you leave your dirty underwear all over the place," you shake your head, managing to drag a light chuck from Ruhn.

“I don’t like other men near you like that," he muttered. You couldn’t help but laugh. “I think everyone got the message clear; you don’t need to worry." His arm snaked around your shoulders as he pulled you closer. Brushing his lips over your forehead a couple of times. You didn’t rush him. Letting him ground himself for a moment more before your eyes landed on his hand. Angry, red knuckles are visible even in dim light.

A soft gasp slipped past your lips, “Your hand." You pulled it up for inspiration. “We need to clean this up," you frowned. “It’ll be healed before we even get home; don't worry about it," he promised. You let out a deep sigh. Standing in his arms for a moment longer. “I want shitty fries and a burger," you puffed, making Ruhn let out a laugh. It was better for both of your sakes to just go back home anyway. “Order while we drive; we’ll eat it in our pajamas." Ruhn pulled your chin up, kissing you tenderly one last time before spinning you around. Slapping your bum while he was at it, making you walk ahead of him. Laughing as you turned back, practically blinding him with that long nail of yours upon your middle finger.

[wren-dy-flowergarden]

My precious treasures ✦ *.✧ *.✦

✦ *.✧.* Being childhood friends with Seishiro Nagi created a world just for you and him. Then Mikage Reo comes along with his energetic charm busting it all the pieces and you don't know what to do. Word Count: 2.9k / Nagi x f!reader x Reo Tags: childhood friends to high school love birds, sfw, character study, not that beta'd ───────────✧.*✦ *.✧.*✦ *.✧.*✦ ───────────── A/N: My first posted story here! ლ(◉‿◉ ლ) finally... pls interact if you want more, I don't usually write short stories so sorry this is so long. Grand ideas for nsfw later hehe. Let me know what you think!

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At first it was more of a chore to be friends with Nagi Seishiro than have what you define as a functioning friendship.

He was lazy, lazy in a way that you needed to check up on him daily just to make sure he wasn't passed out in his house. Not only that he was stubborn, stubborn in the sense that if the building was burning down vs. a high score on the newest game you definitely be attending a funeral the next day. Lastly, he's honest, honest to a fault where you have seen him deny so many confessions because 'they weren't like (Y/N).'

That always made your heart beat a little faster than healthy, but a little abnormality made life interesting right?

Ever since you were little you looked after Nagi. Whether it was coming to his empty house after his parents business trip was taking longer than usual, or after school grabbing ice cream (for yourself) then heading to the local arcade (for him).

It wasn't perfect, but it was something you gotten used to.

It wasn't until high school that your world began to shift.

You both went to the same school. A prep school known for its rounded curriculum, national sport teams and most importantly its connections.

You could find anyone here; the daughter of the Tamayo hospitality known for their five star hotels, half of the directors on the school board are wealthy investors looking for their next big venture and the most popular find would be Reo Mikage, the heir of the Mikage corporation.

A world outside her own and Nagi's.

It was by luck that you got accepted into this high school (plus countless nights of studying and coffee overdrive). Nagi on the other hand is a "genius". At least that's what his parents call him, they congratulated him with a quick three minute phone call and enough money to buy the newest game on the market.

You have never called Nagi a genius. Not that you don't agree, but it felt cold to define him as one and not as Nagi. The one who would always cheer you up by knowing your favorite sweets, turn on your favorite TV show while you be cooking at his house.

Nagi is Nagi.

He is your treasure.

A couple weeks later, spring started to turn into summer and with that beginning shift of your life.

It started with Nagi coming home with dirty cleats hanging off his school backpack and a jersey stained with grass.

"You've joined a club?"

Nagi gives a nod before flopping on the couch, you frowned, "Hey take a bath first, you're filthy." With that comment all you see is a bed of silver hair roll onto the floor with a grunt.

A short dinner later, a couple rounds of the newest Tekken game and you were off to study back at your own house. Putting on your shoes Nagi shouts from upstairs

"Hey (Y/N), you don't need to come here after school everyday."

You stop fidgeting with your shoe ties before twisting back to meet Nagi leaning against the wall. Towel over his head and droplets of water dripping down his neck to a barely exposed collar bone.

Your head whips down to your shoelaces, ears turning red. You don't meet his eyes as multiple thoughts spiral in your head, "If I don't come over who is going to make sure you eat?"

You expect a laugh, a shrug of the shoulder what you don't expect is a name.

"Reo."

You freeze. Reo Mikage the most popular guy in school, not Reo-san or Reo-kun just Reo.

It was almost as if Nagi could read your thoughts because he slumps further against the wall, "Its a pain, and football is not as fun as playing games, but Reo is ok." He says as if that explained the whole picture.

You want to ask a million questions. Oh Nagi how did you meet the heir of the Mikage corporation that literal net worth is in the billions, or why do you call him without honorifics?

"That's- um, great?" You try to compliment, because you don't know if this is a 'great' thing or not. You have never seen Nagi even touch a football in your whole time knowing him, let alone make a friend on first name basis in a week.

Nagi walks up to you as you fiddle with the unclipped thread tearing at the bottom of your shirt. He gives a small pat on the head, hesitant, the same form of love he use when you both first were 'required' to hang out with each other during your childhood days. It meant "you're alright" or "you got this" used after a tumble at the local park or if Nagi didn't go easy on you with his video games leaving you in a teary mess.

Today, it felt different.

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When you first met Mikage Reo you don't have good impression.

He has weird purple colored hair that you aren't sure is dyed or natural, a charismatic smile used by snakes of the business world and most importantly his refers to Nagi as "his treasure".

Now that just makes your blood boil.

Boil in a way that this sparkling water that you were barely sipping, out of a champagne flute while sitting on leather seats in a six person limo, would soon turn into boiling water that you "accidentally" drop (throw) into the heir of Mikage corporations lap.

Before thoughts come into reality, you see Nagi smoothly whisking your glass away before swallowing the bubbly mess in one gulp.

Mikage-san brightens as he pours another glass for Nagi before continuing his spew about becoming the best football star in the world or something like that.

Breaking away from Mikage-san's own world you stare at Nagi his brows twisted in concentration as he swirls a full glass clear bubbles.

You lean over, chin barely reaching his shoulder as you whisper, "You like bubbly water?"

He gives a pained expression, probably read as a blank expression from someone who did not grow up with Nagi.

"I hate the taste."

You tone becomes confused, "Then why drink mine?"

Nagi looks into the glass before taking another sip, lips frowning before turning towards the window instead of answering.

He didn't touch the rest of his glass the remainder of the car ride.

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School continued as usual. You go to homeroom as the teacher talked about the latest events happening this week. You go through the classes in similar style, homework, correction, lecture, questions until you finally be released for lunch.

Lunch, a usual fixture of leftovers you and Nagi shared from the night before wrapped with a blue cloth with printed on bunnies for cuteness. You were about to go find Nagi until purple hair entered the classroom making his way to your desk.

If only you could be swallowed by the ground right now.

"(Y/N)-san! Im so glad I found you." Clear enthusiasm shone in his eyes, he had a presence that announced himself to the whole class room. Everybody was looking at you two.

Bloody murder that what you think but you give a smile before tilting your head, "Ah. Mikage-san is there a reason you need me?"

He sits down on the chair in front of you, legs split leaning close to your unopened bento, "I was wondering if you could tell me about Nagi."

Oh. He was on first name basis also.

He looks down before smiling bashfully, "Sorry! I know it's lunch right now please eat."

You frown wishing you could be anywhere but here, as you crack open the bento revealing small rolled eggs cut into triangles and half a hamburger steak placed next to seaweed rice along with a small amount of cut out vegetables.

The boy in front of you eyes widened as you take your first bite, "Woah that looks like the one Nagi brought to lunch." A second he blurts out, "You cook for him?"

He says it in a way that makes you feel like a maid, rather than a friend and it doesn't leave a good taste in your mouth.

"It's easier to cook for two instead of one." You interject taking a mouthful of egg, hopefully you could chew this one piece as long as the lunch break.

Reo hums before continuing, "Nagi likes hamburger steak?"

"He likes crab." And you choke because why did you feel the need to prove yourself against a boy Nagi met a week ago.

Reo grins like a cat before leaning backwards, "Crab is a good choice though I rather eat steak." He looks at your meal, "What about you (Y/N)-san?"

After taking a gulp of water you beat your chest, coughing, "Ice- cough Ice cream."

Purple iris blinked before he gives a laugh leaning his head back exposing the curve of his Adam's apple- which no you were not looking just observing- before ducking your head back into your meal. He wipes a tear away from his eye, "Ice cream isn't a meal you know."

You give a shrug not wanting to continue, "It taste good." A pause and a smaller voice, "especially salty cream flavor."

Mikage-san gives an all knowing nod before he talks all about his favorite type of he emphasizes "desserts" until the lunch bell rings.

A couple days later the heir invites both you and Nagi to lunch, where it is a spread of crab dishes and lastly to clean the palate is salty vanilla ice cream.

...He's not terrible you guess.

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Things even get more confusing as football season went into full swing. The whole school was abuzz about Aomori Dadada High, one of the best high school team playing against a prep school during before Kanto tour was unheard of.

It wasn't until you heard Reo-san at the dinner table the other night, complain about how "easy" it was to stroke those "muscle head egos" and get them to play a game later in the week, getting the upper hand on his father or something like that.

Oh. How could you forget, Nagi started to invite Reo to dinner every night after football practice (which was every night). You stared at the two of them across the dinner table, currently munching on smoked mackerel spitting out bones.

"We could have had special grade tuna tonight if you just let Ba-ya drop by the market!" The purple head complained as he stuck a fin in his mouth to suck on. You've learned earlier that the comment wasn't more about your cooking but more about "living the fullest of life". Reo-san always had the most empty plate after dinner.

"It's fine- I be more worried if I ended up cooking it wrong and Nagi eat your carrots." You point to the carrots pushed to the side of his plate.

He gives a whine, pushing them back and forwards before looking over, "But you aren't eating your tomatoes..."

You put a hand over your miso soup, three cherry tomatoes bobbing lifelessly, covering it from scrutinizing eyes.

"I- they are sour today!"

Nagi lets out a non committal hum as Reo comments, "but tomatoes are good for your skin."

"My skin is fine Reo-san."

"She's already pretty Reo."

A pause before simultaneously all of you turned a different shade of red. Reo is the first to break the silence hands flailing, "He means you could be a model! You know the ones that are on the bulletin board promoting Calpico fresh!"

The red on your cheek darkens before you mumble, "I've only seen the ads with the girls in swimsuits." On the way to school there be smiling girl holding a bottle of Calico fresh as the showed just enough cleavage to the camera but not enough to distract you from the product itself. They all had flawless photoshopped skin tucked into a tight yellow bikini.

Reo, face as red as yours now (probably remembered the same ad), cries before ducking his face into his hands, "I mean the ad with the school uniform!" Before he gives a groan, "That sounds even worse."

You look at Nagi, the instigator as he stared at the curves of his fish bones a faint cherry red painted on the tip of his ears before he mutters, "Yellow is nice."

You kick both him and Reo underneath the table as you pop a cherry from your soup into your mouth urging them out of the kitchen so you could clean in peace.

.

.

.

It's game day, and you have not wanted (or did you) to continue that conversation at the dinner table. Instead you kept your head down sipping on now a mix of orange and cranberry juice in the Mikage's limo instead of that bubbly monstrosity people says is water.

Life has gone on rather normally other than the new friendship with Reo-san. What was more noticeable was instead of the yellow bikinied girl posing on a billboard it was now replaced with a more family friendly ad showing a girl in a summer uniform, head tilting back as she drank Calpico fresh, the word "refreshing" curved on top of her head.

You blinked, staring at the Mikage heir, him refusing to make eye contact with you.

Money could do anything.

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There was excitement in school that day. People gossiped about how Aomori Dadada high school would be arriving and that this be the spectacle of the year.

After the last bell rang you could see almost all the classroom make a mad dash towards the field. You included though behind the mass of crowd as you see figures on the field facing what seemed to be students two times their muscle build.

You're glad this wasn't American football, you know you be seeing Reo-san and Nagi in the nearest hospital.

"Miss (Y/N-san)." You turn to Reo's personal attendant an elderly lady who stood a good two heads taller than you, back hunched but suit bulking with muscle.

You give a greeting, "Ba-ya-san, weather is nice today." You look past the ocean of people noticing the kick off, "Think they will win?"

A chuckle answers your questions as she nods, "Though Mr. Mikage-sama does not agree with his son's decisions they share simmilarities, talent seeks talent Ms. (Y/N)-san."

Your eye brow rises, "That's why Reo-san is attached to Nagi? Because of talent?" The ball flies into the air as the crowd erupts into a roar you can barely hear the elderly women reply.

"Do you not agree?"

You shrug.

"No." You think about the more lively lunches, Nagi coming home exhausted with a hint of a smile, Reo eventually joining for dinner every night. You heart twinges with sadness as the whistle blows announcing the first goal of the inning. Nagi being tackled by Reo the two of them barely balancing on two feet.

"It just seems more than talent, that's all."

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Your world is shifting, rapidly.

From a singular world that revolved around Nagi Seishiro, Reo Mikage was forcing himself in this pocket of happiness. You be lying if you said you didn't mind before, but now his presence would be missed if he stopped hanging out with you both.

Reading through Nagi's letter from the Blue Lock Project, identical to Reo's letter (other than name) felt like vertigo.

Reo had excitement showing on his face, Nagi a look of boredom and you?

What type of look were you making right now?

"It's huge news (Y/N)! This is the first step of becoming top of the world, not only that but we will be meeting other stepping stones there that will take us further." He puts an arm over Nagi's shoulder who was playing on his phone, "We will become the best players in the world."

Again, like the start of Nagi's football journey you give a congratulations, "It's- ah" You look for the words a moment before you decide:

It felt like they were both leaving you behind, because talent craves talents and you, what did you do? A world of you Nagi and Reo was not seeming that realistic but you knew you had to answer as expectant purple eyes brimming with excitement waited for your answer.

"It's wonderful."

It must of not been the right word because Reo's face drops and Nagi even pauses his game sits up shuffling closer before he reaches out for you, "Don't do that."

You frowned, "Do what?"

He puts a hand on your cheek, cold, as he gently pressing his thumb against the bottom of your eyes rubbing back and forward.

"Cry."

You laugh, a type of laugh that gets caught in your throat, "I'm not though." Nagi grey eyes focused on you keeps pressing his thumb against you cheek as Reo reaches over taking your hands pressing them together to stop them from shaking, rubbing small circles against your wrists.

You didn't even realize you were shaking.

The heir's voice dropped into a soothing voice, reassuring, "It says a couple months..." He grins, confidence flooding his face, "But it will take only a couple weeks knowing how talented I am and how genius Nagi is." He hasn't stopped rubbing circles.

You sight, leaning into Nagi's hand as he moves his hand to the back of your nap massaging the tension, "You guys will eat healthy, right?"

Reo squeezed his hands against your as Nagi hums in agreement.

"And you guys will be together? You won't miss me?"

It was instantaneous.

"How could we not!" Purple irises burn with sincerity.

"It be hard not to miss you." Lazy eyes blink.

You give a small laugh leaning against Nagi's shoulder and gave a tight squeeze against Reo's in agreement. It was hard to believe Nagi was your only treasure before Reo butted into your life, I guess now you had two.

"Okay. I'll wait for you both to come back then."

[snowysosturn]

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 26

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : MDNI, angst, tension, anxiety, mentions of memory loss, guilt, rejection

As Nick and I left his room, the air felt different. The tension I’d felt downstairs hadn’t left me, and I couldn’t help but feel like there was something more beneath the surface, especially with Matt. But I pushed it aside as we walked down the stairs, back toward Chris and Matt.

Before we reached the bottom, Nick turned to me, his voice soft, "Hey, if you feel comfortable, you can stay here tonight. I’ll sleep in Chris’s room, so you can have mine. I don’t want you to feel like you have to go back if you’re not ready."

I hesitated for a second but then nodded. "That sounds good, actually. Thanks, Nick."

When we stepped into the living room, Chris was sprawled across the couch, grinning from ear to ear. He waved a controller in the air. "Mario Kart is ready! I’m kicking your ass this time!"

Matt, however, sat next to him, more reserved, his posture stiff. I couldn’t help but be intrigued by him. Chris was an open book, easy to read and light hearted. But Matt..there was something closed off, something almost guarded. I could feel it, like a wall between us that I couldn’t understand.

"Here" Chris said, handing me a controller with a grin. "Let’s see if you’re still as good as you used to be."

I grabbed the controller off Chris, “Who knows this time, this brace on my wrist is definitely going to hinder me” I said laughing.

We started playing, and I immediately got into the zone, sprained wrist or not. I smoked them in every single one of the four circuits, each victory making me feel more and more in control, like I was regaining a piece of myself.

Nick, impressed but clearly not wanting to lose again, suggested we play teams. "How about Matt and Y/n team up? You two were unstoppable last time."

I waited for Matt to agree, thinking it’d be fun to see how we worked together. But instead, Matt shook his head, his voice cool and detached. "Nah, let’s switch it up."

The rejection hit me in a way I didn’t expect. A weird, dull ache settled in my chest. Why did it bother me so much? Maybe it was just the rejection itself, or maybe it was the way he’d been acting since I arrived. Distant. Cold.

Nick and Chris exchanged confused glances, both of them snapping their heads to look at Matt. Chris even raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "What? Why? You guys were like the dream team."

Matt shrugged, his expression unreadable. "I just feel like switching things up this time."

I tried to brush it off, but it lingered. Something about Matt’s reluctance, his distance. It felt personal, even though I couldn’t understand why. And the way Chris and Nick reacted, like they knew something I didn’t, only made it worse.

We played on, but the atmosphere felt different now. The game became background noise to the questions swirling in my mind. Why did Matt feel so far away, like he was avoiding me? And why did it matter so much to me?

Matt’s POV

From the moment I heard Y/n was in the house, my mind went into overdrive. I hadn’t expected to see her again so soon, definitely not like this, and the way she looked at me downstairs stung more than I’d ever admit.

Chris was being his usual self, carefree and oblivious, throwing the Mario Kart controllers around like we were kids again. I couldn’t get into it, though. My head was stuck on Y/n. She had this way of pulling everything out of me without even trying, and now, seeing her act like a stranger, like we hadn’t been through everything together, it messed with my head.

Nick and Y/n came back downstairs, and I could feel her eyes on me again. She seemed.. intrigued. Like she was trying to figure something out. Maybe she was piecing together memories, or maybe she just knew something wasn’t right between us. Either way, I couldn’t handle it. Not right now.

I sat there, watching Chris act like an idiot, shouting about how he was going to destroy everyone in the game. I didn’t have it in me to join his energy. But when the game started, I couldn’t help but notice how easily Y/n slipped into it. She was as good as I remember. Each time she crossed the finish line first, there was this spark in her, a glimpse of the girl I remembered. It killed me.

Then, Nick, trying to be the peacekeeper he always is, suggested teams. “How about Matt and Y/n team up? You two were unstoppable last time.”

The second he said it, something inside me froze. The thought of teaming up with her, of being close to her like we used to be, it felt like too much. I couldn’t do it. Not when I knew everything I’d done. Not when she didn’t even remember any of it.

“Nah” I said, trying to keep my voice casual. “Let’s switch it up.”

I could feel her eyes on me, but I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. I knew that what I’d just said hurt her, and that only made it worse.

Nick and Chris both turned to stare at me like I’d grown another head. They knew how close Y/n and I used to be. Hell, they knew the full extent of it.

“What? Why?” Chris asked, sounding genuinely baffled. “You guys were like the dream team.”

I just shrugged, trying to brush it off like it didn’t matter. “I just feel like switching things up this time.”

But the truth was, I couldn’t handle it. Being near her, pretending like nothing had changed, knowing she didn’t remember all the nights we spent talking, the way I’d cared about her, how I’d let her down. I wasn’t strong enough to fake it.

The game carried on, but I was barely paying attention. I couldn’t focus, not when I knew she was sitting across the room, probably wondering why the hell I was acting like this. And part of me hated myself for it, for pushing her away when I should’ve been trying to make things right.

But I couldn’t face her. Not when the weight of everything I’d done, all the secrets and guilt, was still crushing me.

Y/n’s POV

I glanced around the room, sensing the tension after Matt rejected Nick's suggestion that we team up. I wasn’t sure why, but it stung a little. Maybe it was the rejection, or maybe it was the way he seemed to be avoiding me, like he wanted to keep his distance for reasons I couldn’t figure out. It didn’t make sense. He felt familiar in some strange way, but it was like there was this wall between us.

I shook it off, deciding not to dwell on it. Chris, on the other hand, was buzzing with energy, clearly eager to win. He kept fidgeting with the controller in his hand like he couldn’t wait to start.

"Alright, Chris" I said, breaking the tension and forcing a smile. “I guess it’s you and me, then. Let’s team up. I’ll make sure you finally get that win.”

His face lit up, a wide grin spreading across it. “Hell yeah! I knew you’d be my secret weapon.”

I laughed. Chris was so easy to be around, no secrets, no weird tension. Just a guy who really, really wanted to win a Mario Kart game. Unlike Matt, who was sitting there with this distant look in his eyes.

As we got ready to play, I could feel the room settle again, but I couldn’t help stealing a glance at Matt. He was leaning back on the couch, his controller resting loosely in his hands, but his eyes weren’t on the screen. They were somewhere else, like he was caught in his own thoughts.

I quickly turned back to the screen. Whatever was going on with him, I’d figure it out later. Right now, Chris needed my help, and I was determined to carry him to victory.

“Alright, Chris, just follow my lead” I said, teasing him a little. “I’ll make sure you don’t crash and burn.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad!” he protested, laughing. “Just make sure we win, okay?”

I smirked, gripping the controller as the countdown started on the screen. 

Chris and I were an okay team, I completely carried him, but at the end of the race, we crossed the finish line first. Chris leapt off the couch, cheering with a huge grin on his face, practically shaking the controller in excitement. "I can’t believe it! I actually won!"

I laughed, feeding off his energy. "Told you I’d get you that win!"

Chris was absolutely over the moon, and I felt a small surge of pride in making it happen for him. I glanced over at Matt, who was watching silently. Feeling playful, I teased, “See, Matt, that could’ve been you if you had teamed up with me instead.”

To my surprise, I got a laugh out of him. A real one. It was small, but it broke through the distant vibe he’d been giving off. I couldn’t help but smile, feeling like I was chipping away at whatever wall he had put up. There was something about him, something I couldn’t fully understand, but it made my heart race whenever I was around him.

Matt stood up and excused himself, saying he needed some air. He slipped out to the balcony that was connected to the living room. The balcony door stayed open, though, so we could still all talk, and I decided to follow him. I’d built up a bit of a sweat from being competitive, and the cool air felt like the perfect excuse to join him.

As I stepped out onto the balcony, the breeze hit me, refreshing against my skin. Matt didn’t say anything as I stood beside him, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. There was a strange pull between us, something I couldn’t quite name, but it kept me there, even in the silence.

Inside, Chris kept the conversation going, his voice bubbling with amusement. He brought up the odd, out of pocket things people had been saying on their streams lately, especially the weird usernames that Matt had ended up blocking. "Someone was begging Matt for backshots and their username was MattsLongJohn. Man, the stuff people say in chat."

Nick chimed in with a shocked laugh, while Chris, ever the entertainer, continued. “Oh, and Matt almost gave me a black eye with the Tapple board the other night. Dude’s dangerous when he’s competitive.”

The mood lightened, and we all laughed at the ridiculousness of it. But then, Chris turned to Matt, his tone casual, though he didn’t seem to realize the weight of his words. "Speeding car, ass or tits?"

Matt’s face fell instantly, like someone had punched the air out of him. "First of all, that's just not how you use that phrase" he said, his voice tense, his usual calm demeanor breaking. "Second of all, I'm not answering that."

The conversation froze for a moment, and I felt a sudden rush of heat flood my body, like every nerve in me was suddenly on high alert. Speeding car. The phrase rang in my ears, and without knowing why, it felt like something I should remember. Images of bright lights. Matt’s voice.  I felt dizzy, like my head was spinning but I also had a feeling of nervous butterflies in my stomach.

I needed water. I took a step back from the railing, turning toward the door, my pulse racing. “I’ll be right back” I muttered, trying to steady myself. My throat felt dry, and my hands trembled slightly as I headed back inside.

As I passed through the door, I could still hear Matt and Chris continuing their conversation, but everything felt muffled. The flashes of light, the sound of screeching tires, Matt’s voice, but also the sound of laughter, a feeling of nerves throughout my body - it all crashed into me at once. What was that? What are these feelings?

I hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a glass, filling it with cold water from the fridge, I needed to stand somewhere a bit more private, I remember seeing a bathroom beside the room Chris and Matt were in earlier on, so I let myself into there.I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to calm the storm building in my chest. Something was wrong. Something I couldn’t remember.

Matt’s POV

As soon as Chris let those words slip, I felt my stomach drop. I glared at him, my fists clenching as anger surged through me. "Chris, what the fuck  is wrong with you?" I snapped, my voice lower than usual but laced with frustration. "You can’t just bring up something like that. Especially not in front of her."

Chris’s face fell instantly, his usual carefree grin disappearing as he realized he’d crossed a line. "I-I didn’t mean anything by it, Matt" he stammered, holding his hands up in defense. "I was just messing around."

"Messing around?" I repeated, my tone sharp. "You think that’s something to mess around with? You know what that word brings up." My voice faltered slightly at the end, and I forced myself to take a breath. The last thing I needed was to blow up in front of everyone. But I couldn’t help it. Bringing up the accident, or anything related to it, wasn’t just reckless, it was cruel, even if Chris didn’t mean it that way. Especially with Y/n being here.

Chris’s expression softened as realization hit him. He ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely apologetic. "Shit, Matt, I didn’t think about that. I wasn’t trying to bring up.. y'know, that. I’m sorry, man. It was just a dumb joke from stream. I didn’t mean it like that."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair, trying to calm down. I knew Chris hadn’t meant any harm. He never did. But I was already on edge, especially being around Y/n. As much as I was trying to keep my distance, to protect her or maybe even protect myself, it didn’t mean I didn’t care about her anymore. I still did. I cared about her more than anything. It also didn’t mean I didn’t love her anymore either. I could never stop loving her, but it was easier this way. Easier to pretend that she didn’t care about me at all, even if it was slowly tearing me apart.

And what made it worse was the fact that she was stood right there, unaware of everything that had happened, the weight of what she didn’t know. And here Chris was, casually throwing it around like it didn’t mean anything. Like it wasn’t tied to the worst night of her life. How it was tied to what we were.

I glanced toward the bathroom door, noticing how long Y/n was taking. She had gone to get a drink, but it felt like an eternity had passed. My chest tightened with worry. What if Chris’s stupid comment had triggered something? What if she was starting to remember things, and I wasn’t there to help her through it?

Chris must’ve noticed me looking, because he followed my gaze, his brow furrowing. "You think she’s okay?" he asked quietly.

"I don’t know" I muttered, my voice low as I glanced back toward the closed door. "She’s been gone for a while."

I wasn’t sure if she was in the bathroom, the kitchen, or if she’d just needed a moment to herself. Either way, I felt uneasy. My mind raced with the possibility that she was piecing things together, flashes of memory coming back to her that she wasn’t ready for. The thought of her remembering the accident, without any warning or explanation, scared the hell out of me. I wasn’t ready for that conversation. Not yet.

"Maybe I should check on her" I said, more to myself than to Chris. I couldn’t help the protective instinct that kicked in, even though I’d been trying to keep my distance all night. I didn’t want her to go through this alone, not again.

Chris nodded. "Go. I didn’t mean to mess things up. I’ll stay out of it."

I took a deep breath and stood up, my eyes fixed on the direction Y/n had gone. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of fear and guilt twisting in my gut. As much as I wanted to stay distant, to avoid complicating things further, I couldn’t ignore the pull I felt toward her. And right now, all I wanted was to make sure she was okay.

Y/n’s POV

I stood in the bathroom for what felt like forever, staring at my reflection as if the answers were hidden somewhere in the lines on my forehead. My hands were gripping the edges of the sink so hard my knuckles turned white. I splashed more water on my face, letting the coldness shock me back into the present. It helped, but not enough. The weight in my chest hadn’t gone away. I knew I needed to calm down. There was no use spiraling right now, especially not in front of anyone. 

Looking at myself in the mirror, I forced a few deep breaths. Maybe I was just exhausted, maybe it was too much all at once. Meeting Chris and Matt, hearing Nick talk about how we all used to be close, it was a lot to process. It was like stepping into a life I wasn’t fully a part of anymore but still felt connected to.

With another breath, I finally decided it was time to go to bed. It would be better to sleep and let my mind rest. Maybe things would feel clearer in the morning.

I dried my face and opened the bathroom door, only to find Matt standing right outside. The hallway was dimly lit, casting a soft shadow over his face, but I could see the concern in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he said, his voice low and hesitant.

"Yeah" I nodded, trying to offer a reassuring smile. "I’m fine. Just.. tired. I think I’m going to head to bed."

He looked at me for a moment, like he was searching for something in my expression. Maybe he was trying to see if I was really okay, or maybe he was debating whether to say something else. But after a beat, he just nodded and stepped aside to let me pass.

"Alright. Get some rest," he said quietly, his voice holding something unspoken.

I walked past him, feeling the weight of his gaze on my back for a few more seconds before I turned the corner into the living room. Nick and Chris were still lounging on the couch, Chris fiddling with the Wii controllers while Nick scrolled on his phone. They looked up when I approached.

"Hey guys, I’m gonna head to bed" I said. "I’ll probably leave around 11 in the morning. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment."

Nick straightened up a little, giving me a curious look. "Oh, okay. Do you want to grab breakfast before? Matt and I can drop you off after, we’re picking up Nate from the airport around that time anyway."

I turned slightly, glancing back at Matt. He was still in the hallway, leaning against the doorframe, watching the conversation unfold. He caught my eyes and nodded.

"Yeah, that works" he said. "I can drop you off."

"Sounds good" I replied, offering them both a small, tired smile. "Thank you for tonight. Goodnight, guys."

"Night" Nick said, giving me a wave, while Chris mumbled something about winning Mario Kart under his breath.

I turned and started walking back up the stairs, feeling the day’s exhaustion setting in. The events of the night weighed on my mind - the way Matt had looked at me downstairs, Nick’s stories about the four of us hanging out, and Chris’s strange joke that sent shocks through me. It was a lot to process, and I felt this strange pull toward Matt, like there was something more there than I could understand.

I could feel it in the way he looked at me. There was a history, something deeper between us that no one had explained yet. Why wasn’t he trying to fix things if we’d been close? What was holding him back? And why did I feel like something important was missing from the story?

As I reached Nick’s room, I pushed the thoughts away, telling myself that tomorrow would bring more answers. For now, I just needed sleep. I slipped into the room, closed the door behind me, and fell onto the bed, letting my body relax into the sheets.

But even as my eyes closed, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was right on the edge of something. Something big that I just couldn’t see yet.

a/n: we have 4 parts leftttttt (I think)

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel l @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @2muchofaslvt @sturnsaver @sleepysturniolo @jcsturniolo11 @jessie-essie @hoeforchrizz @mynbbys @sturniolopanini @mattsturnxoxo @delicatechrry @t77te @sturnsyaper69 @hotdismylife @maggot3647 @ivysturnss @noplaceissafeanymore @mattssgf @yourfavsturniologirl @maethem0nth @sillyponygrl @mattyblover07 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @dominicfikeenthusiast @mattsfavbigtitties @ncm9696 @chrisstvrns @schlutt4matty @lvrsturniolo @chrissolos @ilusa @amelia-sturniolo3 @wonnieeluvvr @pussydestroyer100 @amexiass @mystinkylefttoe26 @lizzysmith110 @sturniololovebot @secret-sturniolo @freshythefishy @witchofthehour @stvrnlover @alizestvrnss @beachbabe000 @pinkdyit @pvssychicken @starkeyszn

[siremasterlawrence]

Factory Reset !

Detective Harrington in early morning of the first Friday of the week pours himself a cup of joe as his cellphone begins to vibrate in his pants as he alerts himself about the importance of the day.Jays phone rings after he takes a inhale of the aroma traveling straight through his nostrils and his nerves rush in to overdrive sendings him in shivers as he wakes up for the morning.The minute he presses a answer call button placing the cellphone by his ears as a buzz worthy sounds vibrating through his ears in to his soul as he stops cold and he mindless stares ahead.A young man’s voice enters his ears leaving him to his core as his mind begins to spin in to a new atmosphere and whirling in to the sky everything fades out of existence like his soul jumps. He cannot fight the idea that something he is off in to a new life like his life has changed completely in a matter of seconds falling out of his body as he transported through time and space. A man appears in the midst of his darkness he is being called to him like a moth to a flame his feet begins to life and he is going insane deserving my absolute control over everything.

“Detective Harrington Welcome!”

“Where…where am I?”

“You are being processed”

“For what? I never asked for this?”

“So what my friend”

“Your white ass did”

“I am about to break you “

“No stop!”

“SHUT UP!”

“You are fucking pig”

“A white piece of shit “

“Look at me”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“You arrested me “

“I don’t remember “

“You deserve this”

“You framed me”

“What if I did ?”

“Take a deep breath”

“Heavy and heavier “

“Stand your ground “

“Lock your house down”

“Go to your office “

“Close the door “

“Good boi”

“Mmmmm”

“Go kneel on your desk”

“Bark like a dog”

“Smile for me”

“Change your clothes “

“Go to the train station”

“Step on it”

“Travel to this location “

“Take three rides and get off the train”

“Walk down to the street and down the block “

“Enter the alley side door and greet me”

“Watching the suspect enter the train sir”

“Good job officer “

“Advise “

“Make sure he gets off at three stops “

“Guide me! “

“Give him a shove “

“Yes Master”

“Sir Yes Sir”

“Officer Harrington “

“Oh Hey!”

“Are you alright?”

“I am drunk! I think”

“You’re fine”

“I promise”

“Take our hands”

“Ok we need to get you help “

“You are high”

“No! I don’t do drugs “

“You did yesterday “

“No! I can’t “

“I wouldn’t “

“Guys! Wait”

“Where are we?”

“Guys!”

“Who are you ?”

“Master “

“Why are you calling him that?”

“Flick the lights on”

“Yes Master”

“The fuck!”

“Take the needle”

“Firmly “

“Inject him”

“Woah! Wake up “

“Must obey “

“Must submit “

He stops cold at fainting on his new masters command he hits the floor as his eyes are whirl around and slide back his eye balls in to an upper position inside of his socket and he succumbs. The man exits the shadows in to the lights in a super fashion knelt next to him placing his palms on him rubs his stomach slowly but steadily waking him up and he stirs back to reality.

His body loves the sensation of my hands on to bin with love crawling on him as he cock straightens upward hard with pleasure in moments of rock hard nature throbbing him to the side.Harrington can’t help but smile taking up his hand in mind as he kisses or slowly up to his neck and flowing to his lips in time to meet his neck and the two are forced to kiss as they are connected.

The man points to his bed wear he lays out new clothes for him to which Jay felt a very renewed desire of this life to begin yet ever again as our lips connect them again and with that he held on to me with craving he cannot and will not control.Sitting down on my bed just watch him go on his transform removing his shirt over his head, letting his pants drop exposing his underwear to the world, his dress shows kick off and he quickly dresses now in all back a sign of submission to his Nubian king.

I am on the scene Master Lawrence “

“Find him, hunt him down”

“With pleasure”

“Use every skill in your book”

“Use your badge correctly “

“I will bear him to he submits “

“Good boi”

“Mmmm! I love being bad”

“I tracked him down”

“Go off grid “

“Capture him”

“Yes Master”

“Rub through it”

“Bring him to the station”

“Enslave him and my fellow cops “

“Yes Master”

“I love you “

“Will call you soon with completion “

The end

[eddiestightywhities]

FUCK IT FRIDAY!

i was tagged by the super-talented @playinginthunderstorms (you can check out their brilliant fuck-it friday snippet HERE).

this is from my 'buck comes out to eddie' fic i started yesterday, which doesn't yet have even a working title. i think i might make it a series of vignettes, that will start with the basketball game... we shall see how it pans out!

.

Eddie can't tell himself he's never thought about it. He has, but he's never—weighed any of it up, exactly. Hasn't openly considered it, or let himself examine the idea there could've been anything else. That there could still be something else. There's only how things were, the way it'd gone a certain way for him when it came to romantic relationships. Him and a girl. Him and a woman. Him and a wife. That's just the way it's always been; the way things are for Eddie. 

Until Buck is metaphorically punching him square in the face with so many huge revelations in the space of a few stark truths that Eddie apparently couldn't, or wouldn't, allow himself to look at. He's thinking of that saying: Something about not being able to see the wood for all the trees? The forest surrounding Eddie's life has always been so frighteningly dense, with no room at all for his branches to grow any taller or wider than his allotted space.

Now Eddie is being forced into thinking about it, fully, for the first time ever, and doesn't have time to process what the hell any of it might mean. A little ruefully, he thinks he'd probably prefer a literal punch to the face than have to deal with this.

He's at once remembering Buck barrelling into him on the basketball court, which—dios, makes so much sense to him now. 

Buck and Tommy went on a date together. When he and Marisol saw them at the restaurant, they were on a date. With each other. 

His brain goes into overdrive. 

“Wait, Tommy's gay?” 

All of his and Tommy's previous interactions are now running through Eddie's head as a flickering montage; some janky film reel spliced together in non-linear fashion. And it makes him feel really shitty, re-assessing Tommy's behaviour just because of the guy's sexuality, but it's just—again, certain things are making sense now that Eddie's been supplied with this new information. Those bits and pieces of thoughts and notions he hadn't been able to make fit anywhere are coming together. Stuff he'd willed himself not to ponder over, it's all sort of slotting into place. 

“Ah, that never came up while you guys were hanging out?” Buck asks. 

He tells Buck no (because it very much hadn't) and that it wouldn't have mattered to him anyway. Which it wouldn't, obviously, he just feels like his brain—or no, his body, maybe, had tried to tell him this but he hadn't listened.

Why hadn't he listened? 

Then it hits him, kind of like a large shot of tequila, that he's not at all surprised by the fact Buck went on a date with a man.

Secondary is the thought that he doesn't know why he isn't taken aback at that.

.

play or nay, my no pressure tags are under the cut!

@inell @rosieposiepuddingnpie @sortasirius @angela-feelstoomuch @woodchoc-magnum @kitteneddiediaz @watchyourbuck @treasurehuntbuck @daffi-990 @mazzystar24 @colonoscopys @shitouttabuck @lamardeuse @idealuk @exhuastedpigeon @veronae-buddie @wildehacked @isaacthedruid @hattalove @mavitruther @team-118 @cranberrymoons @hotshotsxyz

[bumbleklee]

something happens and im head over heels (diluc x reader)

hi hello hi! havent posted in a while so please be gentle with me (i am fragile). feel free to leave a comment, would love to chat with you guys about this little piece

pairing: diluc x gn!reader

characters: diluc, baby!klee, reader, unnamed neighbor

synopsis: diluc is stuck babysitting his neighbor’s baby–the only problem? he isn’t really the babysitting type. good thing you are!

key tags: minor cursing, babyfic, first kiss, clueless diluc, modern!au (technically college era but no mention of college), lowkey punk!diluc

word count: 4109

“I tried calling Jean but she isn’t around and then I phoned Eula but I think I sent her into overdrive at just the thought of babysitting.” You hear Diluc shushing the baby in between words. “What if I just drop her off at the fire station and her mom can pick her up after her shift?” 

“Okay–don’t do that.” You shake your head in bewilderment, imagining the absolute shit-show that would be. “You just need to calm down. She’s probably freaking out because you’re freaking out.” 

There’s shuffling in the background and Diluc curses when he knocks something over. “She gave me a bag, right?” He continues, his voice laced with pure disconcertment, “And I don’t even know what half of this stuff is. There’s like a bunch of plastic thingies and a bag of powder that kind of looks like meth–” 

“Not meth.” You interrupt him. “I mean, probably not meth.” 

“That’s not the point,” Diluc emphasizes, “The point is that I’m a fucking loss and really need your help.” 

(full story underneath cut)

Diluc Ragnvindr doesn’t know much about his neighbor. He knows that she’s young, probably in her late 20s or early 30s, and that she’s a single mom to a little baby girl (who has a tendency to wake up in the middle of the night and cry so loudly that it nearly wakes up everybody in their apartment building). He also knows that she works at the local hospital–specifically in the emergency room–and that her mom usually comes around every evening to watch the baby. But other than a simple wave to each other when they simultaneously take the trash out, Diluc doesn’t really know her. 

So when she shows up on his doorstep at eight thirty at night with a bundle of pink blankets in her arms and a panicked look across her face, Diluc was, to say the least, surprised. 

“Um, you’re Diluc, right?” She stammers nervously, bouncing the baby in her arms. “Crepus’ son?” 

Diluc blinks once. Then twice. “Yeah,” He says, “That’s me.” 

The woman stares at Diluc for a moment, like she was contemplating everything in her life that had led up to this point, before heaving a desolate sigh. “Is your dad home by any chance?” Her tone suggests she already knows the answers and Diluc catches her anxious eyes darting from him to the vague view of his living room.

“He’s away this weekend. Sorry.” 

“Dammit.” His neighbor thinks for a while longer, clicking her tongue against the inside of her mouth a few times before asking, “Have you ever babysat before?” 

Diluc holds back a laugh. Babysit? Him? This must have been a life-or-death situation if his sweet neighbor was asking him to watch her daughter. Because, sure, they didn’t know each other but Diluc doesn’t doubt for a moment that she has some assumptions based on his appearance alone. 

“Err…isn’t there anyone else you can ask?” Diluc asks awkwardly, his eyes drifting down the apartment hallway as if someone much more suitable for the role is going to pop out. 

“Believe me, you’re the last person I would have thought about asking.” His neighbor says nonchalantly and Diluc tries not to take offense. “But there was a bad accident on Route 46 and I was called in to the hospital. My mom is out of town too, otherwise I would have asked her. And–” She gestures to the closed doors lining the long hallway, “–I don’t even think anyone lives in those apartments. At least I know your place is habitable.” She pauses again and her eyes shift down, gazing sadly at the quiet baby in her arms. "It's so hard being a single parent...I barely have any help and just..."

Her voice wavers more and more with each word and it looks like she’s about to start crying. But before she could crack, Diluc huffs quietly and crosses his arms across his chest. 

“Okay, okay,” He says exasperatedly. “I’ll watch her. Go save lives. Or whatever.” 

His neighbor’s face lights up at his agreement and before Diluc can fully comprehend what's happening, the baby is being shoved in his arms and a black bag full of many things is dropped at his feet. She whirls around, straightening her scrubs, and looks over her shoulder one last time. 

“Call the front desk if you need anything!” She calls, blowing a kiss to her daughter. 

“Wait!” Diluc yells, a sudden wave of dread washing over him. “Does she need to eat? How do you change a diaper? Does she have a name?” 

Ignoring his more-important questions, his neighbor yells back, “Her name is Klee! Thanks again!” 

Diluc watches as his neighbor races towards the elevator at the end of the hall, presses a button, and disappears from view. He stares at the empty hallway for a second before the baby in his arms makes a noise–reminding him that, oh yeah, he’s in charge of a baby now. 

He turns to look at the baby, his arms tightening around his tiny frame, and mumbles to no one in particular. “What did I get myself into?” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

Your phone rings four times before you manage to grab it. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” You say to the ringtone before grabbing your cell phone off your bedside table and swiping across the screen without bothering to look at who was calling you. “Hello?”

“Hey. I need your help.” 

“Diluc?” You zone in on his voice and immediately pick out exhaustion, agitation, and even a little fear. And the more you listen, the more you notice…a crying baby? “I swear to God, Ragnvindr, if you kidnapped a baby and want me to be your getaway–” 

“I didn’t kidnap anything!” Diluc abruptly snaps. “Shit, shit, it’s okay, Klee…” You rub your forehead in confusion as Diluc explains that he’s babysitting for his neighbor. “Fuck–everything was fine for, like, twenty minutes and then she started crying and she hasn’t stopped since! I don’t know what to do!” 

You hold back a giggle. Of course notorious ‘bad boy’ Diluc Ragnvindr doesn't know what to do with a crying baby. You aren’t surprised–in fact, you’d be more surprised if he did know what to do. 

“I tried calling Jean but she isn’t around and then I phoned Eula but I think I sent her into overdrive at just the thought of babysitting.” You hear Diluc shushing the baby in between words. “What if I just drop her off at the fire station and her mom can pick her up after her shift?” 

“Okay–don’t do that.” You shake your head in bewilderment, imagining the absolute shit-show that would be. “You just need to calm down. She’s probably freaking out because you’re freaking out.” 

There’s shuffling in the background and Diluc curses when he knocks something over. “She gave me a bag, right?” He continues, his voice laced with pure disconcertment, “And I don’t even know what half of this stuff is. There’s like a bunch of plastic thingies and a bag of powder that kind of looks like meth–” 

“Not meth.” You interrupt him. “I mean, probably not meth.” 

“That’s not the point,” Diluc emphasizes, “The point is that I’m a fucking loss and really need your help.” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

When you finally get to Diluc’s apartment, his front door is unlocked so you let yourself inside. You assume your friend has his hands full with the baby anyways. 

“Luc?” You ask, wandering into the disaster-zone Diluc calls his living room. Dish rags and bathroom towels are thrown everywhere, there were random baby items all over the floor, and the yellow powder that Diluc thought was meth was spilled on a couch cushion (and upon closer investigation, you realize it’s just baby formula). You snake down the apartment halls until you spot Diluc in the kitchen. 

He already looks so spent. His hair is loose from its usual ponytail, locks frizzy and tangled, and his eyes are tired and pleading. He leans against the fridge, bouncing a wailing baby in his arms robotically. 

“Hey.” You greet with a teasing smirk. “Nice baby. Where’d you get it?” 

“Shut up.” Diluc murmurs, a frown etched deep into his face. Your smirk morphs into a sympathetic smile and you hold your arms expectedly. Diluc doesn’t hesitate to transfer Klee into your embrace and while her cries don't cease entirely, they quiet to a whiny whimper as she tries to process who you are. 

“What’s the matter?” You coo sweetly, rubbing Klee’s back with a gentle hand. “Is Diluc being mean and scary?” 

“Hey!” 

“I'm just kidding.” You laugh briefly and turn your attention back to the baby in your arms, looking for any physical signs of distress–not that you thought Diluc would have ignored them, but he was so frazzled that maybe he missed something. When you adjust Klee against your hip, her face scrunches up in discomfort and she pushes against your chest. You hum in recognition and move her onesie aside to see if there’s a blue stripe on her diaper. And sure enough, there is. “She just needs her diaper changed.” 

Diluc pales visibly. “How do I do that?” He fumbles with the hem of his Pearl Jam t-shirt. “Are there instructions on the diaper or something?” 

You laugh again and roll your eyes playfully, “I’ll show you.” 

Diluc takes Klee from you so you can rummage through the black bag on the floor and pull out a package of wipes and a clean diaper. Diluc watches you in amazement and wonders how someone could be so calm and collected about something that made him want to crawl up the wall. You grab a nearby towel–the cleanest one, to be honest–and lay it on the ground before taking Klee back from Diluc and setting her down on top of it. Your quick fingers unsnap the metal buttons on her onesie and discard the dirty diaper, cleaning Klee up and sliding a fresh diaper underneath her wiggling body. 

“See?” You beam, pressing down the sticky sides of the diaper. “Super easy!” 

“For you,” Diluc mumbles. He sits on the edge of the couch and watches you interact with Klee like you’ve known her forever. You tap her belly occasionally, enticing a giggle, and the baby kicks her legs excitedly. She was attentive, reaching out towards you and babbling incoherent sentences loudly. She was loud, and a little annoying, but if Diluc was being honest, he was just glad that she wasn’t crying anymore. “When’d you become a baby whisperer?” 

You clean up and drag Klee into your lap, letting her play with your sweatshirt strings. “My mom used to watch my cousins,” You explain, “And I guess I picked up on a thing or two.” 

Diluc hums in response. Watching you play with Klee made him feel warm. Not a bad warm, but a good warm that filled his stomach with butterflies and made his chest feel weightless. Part of him was totally impressed by you and your ability to swoon over everyone and anyone–including little babies like Klee–unlike himself, who became a quivering mess during the unknown. You kept your cool no matter what. You owned every situation life threw at you so yeah, Diluc was totally impressed. 

But even more than that, Diluc is glad that you gave him the time of day. You could have brushed him off, could have told him to figure it out, but you went out of your way to drive across town and hold a baby–a stranger’s baby, even–just because he asked. 

“You know…” You voice grabs Diluc’s attention again and he gazes down at the floor where you’re sitting. “I was supposed to go out with Itto Arataki tonight. But I canceled our date to come here.” 

Diluc holds back the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah?” He says instead. 

He knows Itto Arataki back from high school–though they were never particularly friends. He was captain of the football team and had a 2.3 GPA and drove the most obnoxious and ugly muscle car in town. Diluc didn’t care for him then, doesn’t care for him now, and the more he thinks about your potential date with him, the more a feeling of irritation grows in the pit of his stomach. 

“Yeah,” You say casually. You face Diluc and silently mimic packing and rolling a joint in the air. “He was going to give me a free eighth.” 

Diluc stifles a laugh, “What a steal.” He doesn’t particularly care to hear about how you were going to smoke with Itto (because–you could smoke with him instead). “You could have gone if you wanted to.”

You shrug, “And miss out on hanging with my best friend, Klee?” You tickle her feet and blow on the top of her head before looking at Diluc again. “This is ten times more fun than hanging out with Itto Arataki, anyways.” 

Diluc raises an eyebrow, “You’re kidding.” 

You shake your head adamantly. “Nope. I’d much rather spend time with you than the idiot who only graduated because his daddy threatened to press legal action against every single teacher at that school.” For a moment, Diluc wonders if you even know what you’re saying, wonders if you realize that you just prioritized Diluc Ragnvindr–the same Diluc Ragnvindr who pierced his own ears at fourteen and sells his extra Adderall to college freshman–over Itto Arataki–the hero of your hometown. He’s about to ask if you have your head screwed on right but before he could open his mouth, Klee starts fussing again. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

As the night progresses, you and Diluc come to four conclusions about one another: 

Diluc is absolutely terrible with children. 

You are absolutely amazing with children. 

Diluc can’t stop imagining you with a different baby, maybe one with fiery red hair that kind of resembles you, and keeps shaking his head violently to disperse the invasive thought. 

And you think Diluc is acting really weird because he won’t stop shaking his head. You just hope he doesn’t have lice or something. Ew.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

“She cries a lot.” Diluc comments when Klee curls her head into the crook of your neck, angry whines leaving her mouth. You frown slightly, swaying back and forth. “Do you think she’s hungry?”

“Maybe,” You shrug, moving over to the black bag and sorting through it with one hand. “Does she just take a bottle? Or does she eat solids? Do you even know how old she is?” Diluc blinks at you, not having an answer to any of your questions. “Right. Okay. One night off her routine won’t hurt.” 

You carry the bag of formula–at least whatever was left in the bag–and an empty carafe to the kitchen and somehow manage to put together a bottle for Klee with one hand, all while Diluc stands back and watches. He wants to help, really, but feels like he’ll just be in the way more than anything. Klee cries more until you push the rubber tip into her mouth, but she only bothers to drink half of the bottle before she lets it slip from her mouth and pushes it away with her little hands. 

Sighing, you pass Diluc the half-empty bottle. You bounce Klee in your arms for a few minutes, pat her on the back, and try to make her laugh, but to no avail–she won’t stop crying. “Maybe…she’ll calm down with some music?” 

“How would I know?” 

“I don’t know! Just put something on.” 

Diluc grumbles something and heads into the living room, connecting his phone to the speaker. He scrolls through his Spotify playlists and clicks on a random one and hits shuffle. Heavy rock music fills the apartment and the opening chords to Enter Sandman start. You’re about to yell at Diluc for putting on such rowdy music for a baby but Klee only hiccups and turns towards the living room, her eyes wide and curious. 

“No way.” You laugh breathlessly, carrying Klee to the living room. Diluc’s eyes glimmer with elation and he jumps up, grabbing Klee’s tiny hands in his big ones and singing the words to her, finally eliciting a smile from the baby. 

Enter Sandman fades into Shout It Out Loud. “Well, the night’s begun and you want some fun.” Diluc taps Klee’s nose. “Did you think you’re gonna find it?” He taps her cheeks. “You gotta treat yourself like number one.” He taps her forehead. And next thing you know, Diluc has Klee in his arms and is bouncing around the living room, whirling her around in circles and dipping her up and down. “Shout it, shout it, shout it out loud!” 

It was your turn to sit back and watch–as warmth spread throughout your chest.  

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

After an hour of dancing around the living room, Klee yawns. 

It’s then that Diluc realizes his apartment isn’t really set-up for a baby. Fortunately, Klee isn’t walking yet but she is crawling, which means you and Diluc are constantly pulling chargers or wires out of her mouth. It also means that Diluc doesn’t have a crib, or anything remotely close to a crib.  Maybe you could just hold her all night. Or maybe Diluc could put a blanket down in the kitchen sink and lay Klee in there or maybe…

“How many pillows do you have?” 

Diluc cocks his head to the side. “What?” 

“I said,” You repeat, drawing out the vowels, “How many pillows do you have? On second thought, just grab all of them and meet me in your room.” 

Diluc cocks his head again, to the other side this time, and watches as you saunter down the hallway and kick open the door to his bedroom, carrying Klee inside. If it was any other night, Diluc might even throw a fit about you barging into his sacred space–but he was too exhausted to put up a fight tonight. Instead, he gathers all of the pillows from the living room, hall closet, and bedrooms. 

By the time Diluc gets to you, you’re already busy doing whatever you had planned. You fluff the pillows on Diluc’s bed and lay them on either side of Klee, making sure they’re tight and secure. You take the other pillows from Diluc and finish up your makeshift barricade around the baby. 

“There!” You beam proudly. “She won’t be able to roll over with all the pillows.” 

Shit. You were really good at this. And here Diluc was, ready to put her in the sink. 

Diluc stands stiffly in the middle of his bedroom as you run around like a headless chicken. You shut the blinds so the moonlight won’t seep through the window and turn off the floor lamp in the corner. The bedroom is veiled in darkness until you turn on a nightlight (which, in all fairness, Diluc totally forgot he owned) and a warm glow embraces the space. 

Klee is fighting sleep. She wants to sleep, desperately, but her body doesn’t, and she whines uncomfortably. You sit on the edge of the bed and pat the empty spot next to you, urging Diluc to fill it. “What’s wrong?” Diluc asks–the question directed at Klee and you. 

You smile softly, “She just needs some help falling asleep.” 

“Um…” Diluc says, his awkwardness coming back. “Like a blanket or something?” 

Without much thought, you say, “Why don’t you sing to her again?” 

This catches Diluc off guard. Sure, he took choir in high school and never turned down a drunken karaoke session but singing underneath a loud metal song was very different from singing a lullaby in a silent bedroom. He didn’t want to traumatize the poor child.

“Come on,” You plead sweetly. “She loved your voice so much before…I’m sure it would lull her right to sleep.” Diluc feels his face grow warm and he looks away, not sure how to handle the compliment. He’s extremely thankful for the darkness of the bedroom that conceals his cherry-red cheeks from you. 

Diluc composes himself enough to look back at you. He’s about to protest again but his voice jams in his throat when he realizes how close he is to you. Your faces are only inches apart and all Diluc had to do was lean forward and–

Klee cries out again, this time louder, and Diluc clears his throat. “Yeah, um, fine,” He manages, “But you can’t tell anyone. Especially my brother.” You make a ‘zipped and locked’ motion and Diluc twists his body so he’s facing Klee. She kicks her legs angrily, her tiny fists hands curl into fists and before Diluc really knows what’s doing, his voice leaves his mouth delicately. “I wanted to be with you alone and talk about the weather…but traditions I can trace against the child in your face.”

You can’t hide the smile that grows across your face. Diluc hates Tears for Fears, thought they were sellouts who made music for teenage girls who wanted to be different, yet here he was–singing their most popular song to an innocent little baby. 

“Something happens and I’m head over heels. I never find out ‘till I'm head over heels.” 

You sit back and listen. Klee is quiet now, an occasional coo leaves her lips, and you’re positive that she’s going to fall asleep any minute. So Diluc keeps singing, perfecting the song word-for-word until there’s no more lyrics to say and a sleeping baby. And secretly you’re a little bummed out–you could listen to Diluc sing forever. 

But, alas, the bedroom is filled with a gentle silence and you reach across the bed to make sure the pillows are still secure before standing up and stretching your arms. And when the realization finally hits Diluc that he had just sung a baby to sleep, he wants to jump up and fistbump the air as hard as he could. He wasn’t as bad with babies as he thought and this was living proof. 

“I did that!” Diluc exclaims in a hushed-whisper. He grins at you, the kind of smile that reaches his eyes and wrinkles his nose. “I got that baby to fucking sleep all by myself! God, I feel like I can do anything right now–” 

Diluc doesn’t get to finish his sentence. In fact, he doesn’t even get to finish his thought. Because, in a matter of mere seconds, you’re dipping down towards Diluc on the bed and holding his face oh-so gently and crashing your lips together. And as cliche as it sounds, Diluc swears time stops. 

You pull away first, your eyes big and wide. “Oh my god,” You whispered. “Luc, I just–” 

“Oh.” Diluc says in a breath of air. He sits back on his hands and stares at you. He feels like his entire body is on fire. 

“I’m sorry,” You continue. “I don’t know what came over me.” 

“It’s fine,” Diluc nods. “Just…” 

He reaches a slender finger up and runs it across his bottom lip. You keep staring at him with utter shock written across your face and Diluc partially wants to remind you that you’re the one that kissed him. But his mouth refuses to move, refuses to speak, so he sits there in silence.  

“Did you hate it? 

Diluc hesitates before shaking his head, “No.” 

“Good,” You say quietly. “Good.” 

Diluc feels the bed dip again and you sit next to him. Your knees knock against his and when he doesn’t pull away, you take that as an invitation to lean in again. Diluc’s hand cups your jaw and everything feels fuzzy. You kiss like a champion, as expected, and Diluc kisses like each one is his last. Your mouths fit together like puzzle pieces and it’s enough to course electricity through your veins. 

When he needs air, Diluc pulls back enough to press his forehead against yours. “What are you doing?” He asks solemnly. 

“Kissing you,” You say–like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. 

Obviously it goes deeper than that. Because you kissed Ayato and you kissed Thoma and Childe and Itto Arataki and, well, not Diluc. Except you were. You were kissing Diluc in his dark bedroom while his neighbor’s baby slept on his bed surrounded by pillows. And it was fucking mental. 

And confusing. And overwhelming. And Diluc doesn’t really know how to have a single coherent thought about it. 

“Hey,” You urged, “What’s the matter?”

Diluc closes his eyes so he doesn't have to look at yours staring into his soul. “I don’t know,” He admits. “Everything and nothing.” And this was true. His mind feels like a jumbled mess of broken records and no matter how hard he tries to put them together, nothing would play. He eventually equates it to getting hooked on a book he thought he would hate, and how surprised he is that he’s really into the book, but it’s too late to put it down and really needs to see how it ends. “Kiss me again.” 

You do. 

“Again.” 

You keep kissing Diluc experimentally, like you’re trying to work your way up towards something. You kiss him until your lips are swollen and your jaws hurt and then some. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” You finally tell him. 

“Really?” Diluc asks and you nod. 

In the darkness of his bedroom, Diluc smiles. Kissing you doesn't necessarily mean anything. But it doesn’t not mean anything, either. Though he hopes it evolves past the darkness. At least one day. 

And, knowing you, Diluc has a good feeling that it would. And hopefully without a baby in the room. 

a/n: no promises i won't delete this but for now--enjoy <3

[itspdameronthings]

Late Night Encounter

Summary: Had to write this! Got inspired by @rhoorl 's post. Btw it was hot!!!! Benny comes home late from work. Where encounters a very nice surprise.

Warning: 18+ no minors!!!

Late night snacking was very common when Benny came home late from work. Ever since he retired from fighting. He needed a new outlet. That's when he became a cop. Work was satisfying since he was helping people. He was so tired,and wee bit sore. Goes into very dark kitchen looking for something to eat. Opened the fridge pulling out a plate of his favorite food. Suddenly he hears a sound of a chair moving across the hardwood floor. This heightened his instincts kicks in overdrive. Quietly placed the plate in the fridge,” If ya know what's good for ya. I'm armed .  Can rip apart piece by piece.” Sound of the chair moving again. Followed by the table moving made him grow even more tense. Ready to confront who over is in the kitchen till he hears,” Turn around lover boy. You will see what I have in store for my rookie.” Benny turns around to see in the half lighted room is his baby. Wearing one of his worn out tees that has become so sheer could see the outline of your breasts and nipples. Wearing nothing underneath. 

This sent Benny's mind in overdrive. Seeing in the halflight how sexy you look at that moment all he wanted to do is take you right then and there. You have the upper hand in this seduction. Love it since he is usually the one in charge. Spread your legs wide, rubbing your folds in small circles,” I know you want this baby. Ya hungry for something sweet as honey. Have to do what I me to do? I'll do anything thang. Need to touch my young wife. Missed ya so much.” 

“ Take off your tee. Slowly. Want to see your perfect tummy. That's it … oh love your patch of hair on your chest. Come over here . Let me..” Tee on the floor, Benny walks over to you. Strong arms around your waist. Not expecting what would happen next. Feel your cool, small hands round him kissing his shoulder when he leans over to nibble on your neck,” So beautiful you are in my tee. Yet so naughty. Permission to help you rub that clityy of yours. “ Moaned,” permission granted. Make me feel good!” Closed your eyes as he placed his hand over yours, rubbing your clit. Kiss his pecks followed by licking his nipples,but it was Benny's turn to ask for something,” permission for taking your tee off. “ Laying down on the table moaning,” yes, take it off. Not before you remove your pants. Need my baby.” First his pants come off then the tee. Both of you were locked into a hot, passionate sex on the table. Which caused both of you to cum all over the table. Made Benny laugh while laying on top of you,” Now we christened the table. Think we can.. ya know christen the counters?” Kissing his shoulder again,” We already did husband. How about we continue this in the guest bathroom. Haven't been in there since we moved in.” Benny gets off of you so he could care you,” Oh love how you think sweetheart.”

[beachy--head]

Drabble time! This one takes place during 10x11. @himbo-jackson-avery posted about this episode, which made me rewatch parts of it, and my brain took this as permission to go into overdrive, what-if mode.

___

April’s bridal shower is in full swing when he opens the door and reluctantly lets himself inside the room. He doesn’t want to, would actually love to be very far away from this room, but he has to be here, because that’s what friends do, right? They go to each other’s events and big days, even when they don’t want to. And he and April are friends, or at least they’ve been trying very hard to be, so here he is, using his 20-minute break between two surgeries to show his face at the social event of the day. 

April is in the middle of opening her gifts, her sisters surrounding her in a sea of shrinks and dirty looks, and he grabs some food before parking himself in a corner of the room, far from the action. From the corner of his eye, he sees Stephanie and Leah joining the celebration, staying with Webber near the buffet. He feels no inclination to join them: he’s fine staying on the periphery, almost hidden from view, so people don’t look at him (people in general. He’s not thinking about anyone in particular, no sir).

So he stuffs a whole brownie piece in his mouth before finally turning his attention to the guest of honor. April looks so excited to open the next gift, wearing an expression that Jackson finds absolutely adorable (friends are allowed to think that, aren’t they?). She’s the picture of innocence as she opens the box, but her smile quickly drops, and Jackson chokes on his food when he sees the pearl thong she’s holding in her hand.

Luckily, no one is paying attention to him, except Webber, of all people, who raises an eyebrow and shoots him a curious look. With watering eyes, Jackson tries to cough as discreetly as possible and to regulate his breathing. Because it wouldn't require much effort to picture her wearing it, and only it, and a friend should fight really hard to prevent his brain from providing him with a (extremely enjoyable) visual, so he clears his throat and awkwardly looks away.

“It’s for your wedding night, for when you and Matthew…”

Now this mental image is one he’d be really glad to avoid, but her sisters keep going.

“There’s no reason to be embarrassed, we all had our first times too, right ladies? We wanted to give you the lingerie and some tips. The pearls, by the way, are for the inside.”

“Stop, just stop talking,” April begs them, starting to get fed up, and he wholeheartedly agrees with her, but he would breathe a little better if she’d stop holding the damn thong. 

“But Matthew’s your first real boyfriend, we’re trying to help,” and he should leave, right? Prep for surgery and forget the whole thing. Things are only going to get more awkward as they go on, and he should definitely go before he does something stupid.

“And he’s a great catch, and you don’t have the best track record with men.”

“No, she doesn’t have any track record. When I found out you had a boyfriend, I was like, ‘Don't make any sudden movements!’”

Something stupid like yelling at the Kepner sisters that April doesn’t need any tips, in general but especially in that area, and throwing them out of the room, for example. He may not have been a “proper boyfriend”, but he can still defend her against her family’s cutting remarks.

But then, something even more amazing happens. 

“Oh my God, stop talking to me like no man has ever found me sexy!”

“Duckie…”

“And stop. Calling me. Duckie!”

A feeling of pride (and of something he definitely doesn’t want to think about) washes over him as he watches her chew her sisters out. He remembers what she said in surgery about her childhood nickname, and he can’t help but stare at her, like everyone in the room. She’s a swan, and he’s really glad she’s finally standing up for herself and reminding her sisters of who she really is.

“And a surgeon! A freaking kick-ass surgeon who, by the way, has had sex before!”

Behind April, Cristina bursts out laughing and looks straight at him, giving him a thumbs-up, so he's feeling extremely relieved when an intern suddenly materializes next to him, whispering that his patient is about to be taken to the OR and that everything is ready for his surgery. He gives one last glance to April, now standing next to Arizona. His mouth curls in a hint of a smile, but he quickly rearranges his facial expression before following his intern and leaving the room.

(He doesn’t know it yet – not that he has any doubts about it – but he finds out just a few weeks later that pearl thongs suit April Kepner really, really well.)

[soft--dragon]

Taking A Break

Words: 1,794

Warnings: None

This is my first Supernatural fic!! I started the show a few months ago and I'm on season 15 now (lord help me) Hope you guys enjoy <3

This is all entirely platonic, I do not ship wincest. Do not tag it as such. Wincest shippers do NOT interact with this post.

This was inspired by this absolutely adorable fanart by @carrie-tate . Go show her some love!! His work is incredible :D

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

Now, Sam wanted to go on record to say that he was grateful for Dean being his big brother. He had looked up to him ever since he was a kid, trying to be just like Dean - having a strong heart and an even stronger sense of loyalty. Where their dad had failed in their youth, Dean had picked up the shattered pieces left behind and made Sam's childhood as good as it could be. He'd sacrificed everything for Sam, and he'd do it again in a heartbeat. Hell, Dean had practically said those words himself.

Sam was lucky to have Dean. He knew that.

However, right now, he really, really wanted to be anywhere but stuck in a motel room with his big brother.

“Stay away from me, you dick!”

“C’mon Sammy, you can’t seriously still be ticklish can you?”

“I said stay away!”

Sam’s face was split into a wide, nervous grin, shifting his weight from foot to foot on his side of the dining table the motel room had. Dean was almost entirely leaning over the damn thing, a toothy smile on his face with that same spark in his eyes Sam had often seen when they were kids. He honestly didn’t know what spurred Dean into such a playful mood, and he knew what was surely coming along with it.

“We were in the middle of researching!” protests Sam, trying to divert Dean’s attention to the more important task of hunting the latest creature of carnage.

Dean merely scoffs. “Nope. You were researching and acting like you had a stick up your ass, I’m simply helping you balance work and living.”

“The work kinda is our life, Dean-”

“And there you go again.” Dean sighs impatiently. “Could you liven up at least a little? The motel room feels even sadder than usual when you get broody.”

Dean suddenly lunged around the table and advertently kicked Sam’s fight or flight into overdrive, a rather undignified squawk leaving the younger man’s mouth in fear of the speed his brother tore around the furniture. He bolted around the table to stop at the opposite side, mirroring his brother, who was grinning even wider.

“Stohop!” Sam pleads, a breathless laugh weaseling into his words and only egging Dean on more.

“Why? You’re laughing, aren’t you? That’s good!”

“Dean, I am going to kill you,” Sam swears, trying to look serious - but with his anticipatory smile and bright eyes, it was difficult to seem threatening.

Dean snorts. “Uh-huh, sure.”

Then, with the engrained speed of a trained hunter, Dean fakes out a fast step to the right and causes Sam to take off to the left around the table - straight into Dean’s awaiting trap. Realising his error immediately, Sam yelps and tries to backpedal in a panic, but Dean leaps forward and wrestles him onto the carpet before he can even hope to escape.

“Goddamnit!”

Sam’s outraged shout only made Dean laugh harder. “You gotta stop falling for that, Sammy,” he comments playfully, grabbing his little brother’s swinging arm and forcing it to the floor. In a split second, Sam’s yells of annoyance morphed into fast-paced pleads as he registered being pinned.

“No- no, Dean, listen- I’ll take a break, okay? I’ve been a stick in the mud, and whatever else you think. We’ll go out and get a drink somewhere. Sound good? Great. Fantastic. Now lemme up.”

Dean smirks in amusement as Sam bargained like a crossroads demon desperate to get a sale - paired with a nervous grin and hands held up in defense. As he pauses to take a breath between his rambled offers, Dean hums, effectively making Sam stop short.

“Tempting offer, but I think we'll both be entertained by this, bud.”

With the hand not holding his brother's wrist captive, he starts to poke along Sam's midriff, grinning when his younger sibling flinches away from it with a strangled noise.

"Dean!"

"Mhm?" Dean hums innocently, delighting in every involuntary jerk and muffled squeak Sam gave at the light prodding.

"Cut it out." Sam hisses through tightly pressed lips, eyes crinkling with his wobbly grin as he fruitlessly tried to avoid Dean's probing fingers.

Dean almost looked offended. "Cut it out? Dude, I haven't done this to you in years. Let a big brother be nostalgic."

Then, without any warning, he quickly squeezed at Sam’s sides, causing a shrill yelp to suddenly pierce the air. Sam dissolves into fits of laughter instantly, wriggling on the carpet in his mirth from childhood instinct.

“Aaaa~nd there it is," Dean snorts, his unforgiving nails digging into Sam's side and delighting in the familiar hiccuping giggles pouring from his brother's mouth. Even after all these years, his laugh hadn't changed a bit. "Always gonna be a little brother."

Sam's legs flailed wildly, shoes scuffing the floor in a repetitive motion to not kick Dean in the back. Though it was growing tempting the longer his big brother kept scratching at his damn sides.

"Dehehehean!" He protests through tumbling laughter, pressing an arm against Dean's chest to shove him away, but he hadn't grown out of his childhood habits. His strength was being sapped by the tingling sensation plaguing his body.

Dean notices and chuckles fondly. "What? Got something you wanna say, little brother?"

"Ihihim twehehenty fohohour!"

"And yet here you are on the floor giggling like a child. Something doesn't add up here, Sammy."

While his hand journeyed to squeeze up and down Sam's ribs, causing the man to be honest-to-god squeak in laughter, Dean got a rather mean idea. He lifts his hand above Sam, wiggling his fingers, and instantly, Sam curls into himself with wide eyes. The hand pressed against Dean's chest swiped out to snatch up the older man's wrist.

"Nonononono- nohoho Dehehean!" He pleads, his bright laughter unbridled in a way Dean hadn't heard in far too long. "Nohohot thahat!"

"Aww, why not? You loved this growing up."

Sam's face burns with warmth, suddenly glad he was already flushed from laughing, because he knew Dean wouldn't let him live that reaction down. "Ihihi dihidn't!"

"Liar, liar, Wendigo on fire," Dean scoffs, prodding Sam's stomach with his free hand and smirking as the man did his best impression of a folding chair, his giggles melding with snorts. With little difficulty, he tugs his wrist from Sam's grip and returns to the wiggling motion above his little brother.

Sam's nervous giggles increased as Dean kept his hand suspended, watching with wary eyes as it seemed to circle above like a vulture. Though, with Sam's eyes locked to the overhead threat, he didn't see the second wave coming until there was a sudden flurry of feather light touches ghosting over his neck.

"W-Wahahait! Crahahahap!" Sam squeaks helplessly, shoulders rocketing to his ears to block Dean's fingers from tormenting the soft spot. It had been a favorite of Jessica's when she wanted to mess with him - a delicate kiss or soft fingernails were enough to make him fold into himself in seconds. It was something she had used against him constantly when they were dating.

"Dehean!" Sam whines, pressing his head against his shoulders alternatively when his older brother starts targeting his ears.

Dean's heart melted slightly at Sam's childish noises, his smirk slipping into a fond grin without him realising. "Did you get more ticklish since you left for Stanford?" he asks, half teasing - half genuinely curious as he sneaked a few fingers into the gaps of Sam's top ribs, dangerously close to his underarms that were ridiculously sensitive.

Sam instantly jack-knifed in reflex, an embarrassing yelp pulling from his throat as he tried to protect his infamous soft spot. "Nohot thehere, Dehehehean! Uhuncle!" He cries out, half rolling onto his side and swatting at Dean's hands that place gentle pokes up and down his ribcage. As much as he was enjoying messing around with Dean, he wasn't sure he could handle that spot being tormented.

Thankfully, Dean hears the weary notes in Sam's voice from laughing so much. He chuckles fondly and pulls his hands away from the sensitive skin, observing his little brother, who is becoming one with the floor. The younger man gulps air into his worn-out body, holding his stomach that was slightly aching from laughter.

"J-Jesus," he gasps, wiping at his eyes that had gathered moisture from mirth. "That was brutal."

"Be grateful I didn't actually go for your worst spots," Dean snickers, "think we would've got a noise complaint with your screaming."

Sam kicks Dean's shin with his signature 'resting bitch face', but the lingering smile on his lips took away the effect. "Jerk," he grumbles.

"Bitch," Dean says right back with a warm grin.

He starts to get up from his crouched position on the floor, when Sam suddenly grabs his arms and yanks him straight back down, rolling Dean onto his back smoothly with practiced form. Dean's grunt of alarm was cut off by his own high-pitched shriek as it felt like electricity bolted through his hips.

"Don't think I've forgotten about your weakness too, Dean," Sam laughed, his thumbs making quick work in reducing Dean to nothing but a ball of loud laughter.

"Y-YOHOU DIHICKHEHEAD!" Dean yells out through hearty laughter, twisting on the floor for escape, but Sam wasn't giving him an out. He'd forgotten how quickly Sam could recover from these attacks.

"Sure, I'm the dickhead for getting revenge on you when you attacked me first," Sam rolls his eyes, then shifts his thumbs to massage along the tops of Dean’s hip bones. The older man throws his head back with a screech that could raise the dead, kicking his legs out and arms desperately trying to shove Sam away.

“Christ, Dean, you're the one that's gonna get us the noise complaint if you keep that up,” Sam snickers, yet he didn’t shift from that little bundle of nerves that was making Dean shriek with laughter.

Dean couldn’t formulate a snappy comeback. Instead, he just smacked Sam wherever he could reach in retaliation. Was it a well-thought-out counterattack? No, absolutely not, but it was better than doing nothing.

The motel room was filled with Dean's bright laughter for a good while, after all Sam had a retaliation mission to complete and years' worth of revenge to cash in. Though Dean didn't make it easy for him, managing to reverse their roles a few times throughout the ordeal - knowing how to take Sam down from growing up together.

The research lay abandoned on the table for the rest of the afternoon, ignored by the brothers duking it out - curses and laughter thrown around the room. The monster of the week could wait a little while longer. The boys deserved the break.

[lucienarcheron]

Choices [ Gwynriel ]

Prompt: Inspired by this post |

Author's Note: This is my first Gwynriel piece so I hope you enjoy! Please know I tried to approach this as delicately as possible, focusing on Gwyn and her feelings. 

Nothing is explicitly said about Gwyn’s trauma but just in case - trigger warning for light mentions of sexual assault.

Everything between the two of them was always about choice. Her choice. 

It took no one by surprise when their feelings for each other became more. When the teasing, playful taunting and competitive streak became laced with a positive kind of tension. 

But as brave and strong and fierce as Gwyn was, it had scared her to have feelings for Azriel just as it had terrified him. 

It was on a random night as she was drifting off to sleep, smiling at the antics and jokes between them at training that Gwyn felt the world slip out from under her feet and found herself bursting into tears.

Because her heart had made a choice. A choice she realized she could make. A choice she wanted to make.

And her choice had been him. 

She made the choice to reach out her hand and touch his first; he had held her hand as if it was his most prized possession, even as her heart beat wildly in her chest at the contact.

She made the choice to be the first to exchange gifts and he showered her with the most thoughtful and endearing gifts in return, as if he had been waiting for the chance.

She made the choice to — to hug him first, sending both of them into an overdrive of emotions and Azriel held her to him with such tenderness that it made her eyes well up.

She had made the choice to finally shout at him that he was an idiot, but she loved him anyway and Azriel could only smile softly, take her hands in his, and kiss them gently as he confessed his own heart to her, despite his own insecurities.

She had made the choice to kiss him first and he had kissed her with such fire in return that Gwyn went out of her way to kiss him every moment she could, just to feel his body melt against hers. Just to feel his lips on hers and experience all the different kinds of kisses one could have.

He accepted every choice of hers at her pace and only smiled knowingly whenever she made a request, as if his shadows had told him what to expect. 

It had been a choice when she slipped from her room up to the training area, hoping to find him there because she — she wanted to spend more time with him. Even if it was in the dark and they would be alone. But only if he wanted to and gods, had Azriel wanted to. 

It didn’t seem to surprise him when later on, she made the choice to share his bed, as if he could sense what she was thinking about before she did. She made the choice to sleep in his arms because Gwyn found that she slept better listening to him breathe and Azriel found that the best nights of sleep were with her wrapped in his arms, safe and sound — trusting.

But the real choice, the most significant choice — truly kept her awake for a few days as she debated it, wiping at her watery eyes. 

Because she wanted him. She wanted to share herself with him and didn’t want to be afraid. 

“I want this with you.” she had whispered, pulling him back to his bed and sitting them down. “I want to feel good with you.” 

Azriel had only shuddered and then cupped her face gently. “My hands don’t deserve to touch you.” he whispered hoarsely. “Are you sure?”

“Your hands taught me how to defend myself and fight.” she replied, and her voice was firm. “Your hands taught me how to be strong. Your hands make me feel safe. Your hands saved me." 

Azriel’s lips trembled as did hers. 

“Your hands feel like the only home I’ve ever known.” she whispered. “I know where your hands have been and what they have done, Azriel. And they are still the only hands I ever want touching me.”

“Tell me what you want. How do you want me to start?” he breathed.

“Kiss me.” she whispered. 

And he kissed her with everything he had. He kissed her with heartbreaking gentleness as his hands slowly caressed every inch of her body. He brought her hands to rest over his as he touched and felt, ensuring she knew exactly where he was going to go with his exploring.

When Gwyn pulled back, her hands shakily slipping off her robe, Azriel had the wind knocked out of him. 

She had prepared for this, wearing a matching set of cobalt blue. 

“I wanted to feel beautiful and blue reminds me of you.” she whispered and Azriel could only kiss her once more. Kiss her to ensure she knew he would keep her safe, he would make her feel good, and he would work with any choice she would make.

“You are beautiful.” he whispered to her, kissing her again. “And bold. And smart. You are my choice until the darkness claims me.”

She smiled and pulled a hand of his to her lips, kissing it gently. “And you are my choice, Azriel. I will have no other.”

He shuddered again at her words, but Gwyn only smiled wider as she lay back and slowly pulled him over her.

She had slept in his arms enough that having him hover over her didn’t frighten her. It ignited her.  

“Where do you want me to touch you?”

“Where do you want to touch me?” she asked him, but he shook his head with a chuckle. 

“I want to know what you’ve been thinking about. What do you want to try first?” he asked quietly. 

And so, Gwyn told him. And they took their time.

She wanted to explore him and take him in without anything between them. She wanted to touch him and feel his skin and Azriel let her touch him in any way she wanted. He let himself lay bare for her eyes and hands, watching as her eyes marveled at what being around her did to him.

When she asked him to teach her what he liked and how to touch him and make him feel good, Azriel was a goner. The spymaster in him with infinite amounts of patience was no more with Gwyn looking at him with such love. Together, they became more familiar with each other and more comfortable so that when Gwyn was ready once again to make more choices with him, she didn’t hesitate.

She liked his hands and wanted to feel them on her, touching, caressing, and squeezing. She wanted to feel his hands on her and most importantly, in her.

“I read about it in books.” she whispered and smiled shyly. 

“And what did these books tell you?” he asked with a grin.

“That a good male knows how to bring a female pleasure in many ways, using his hands and mouth first.” she said. 

“Is that so?” he teased, and she grinned, despite her flush deepening. 

“Show me.” she whispered and was soon trembling at the pleasure his hands were bringing her, trembled even more as he slipped off her lacy underthings and drank in the sight of her bare for him.

The way he gently coaxed her first orgasm out of her had tears in her eyes, tears that he gently kissed away. He kissed her again and again as she sniffled because he felt good. A male had touched her, and it felt good.

Her male. Her choice.

She liked his tongue and the way it was so playful when they kissed, Gwyn wanted to know what it felt like in other places. 

So Azriel obliged her and showed her all the ways he could make her tremble some more and come alive with his tongue between her legs. The second time she orgasmed left her panting slightly, her eyes glazed over in delight. Gwyn found out then that, she really liked the sight of him grinning at her from between her legs. 

But for her final choice and how she wanted him, Gwyn needed just a little extra courage. She wanted him but her last memory was of pain and it still made her pause. 

“We can stop and come back whenever you’re ready.” he said quietly, kissing her forehead but Gwyn shook her head.

“I am ready.” she said quietly but not weakly. “But I want to guide you.”

“I am yours.” 

So, Gwyn pulled him over her and let her hand slide down Azriel’s chest until she was inches away from his hardened length. She met his gaze and Azriel gave her an encouraging nod. Steadily, she wrapped her hand around him and watched as he let out a shaky breath while she pumped him curiously. Holding his gaze, Gwyn spread her legs slowly and Azriel didn’t look away, resting his hand on hers. 

“Is this okay?”

Gwyn nodded but Azriel shook his head. 

“I need to hear it.”

Gwyn swallowed. “I want this but I’m nervous it’s going to hurt.”

“I will go as slow as you need me to.” he said and leaned in to kiss her. “It might be a little uncomfortable until we get used to it. Do you want to try being on top for this first time?”

“No.” she said firmly. “They don’t get to win anymore. I want you like this for our first time.”

“I am yours however you want me.” 

“Then kiss me.” she requested. “Kiss me and — and make love to me.”

He smiled softly and with his hand gently on hers wrapped around his length, Azriel slowly eased into her, inch by inch, pausing every single time she tensed, murmuring words of love and encouragement in her ear until they were one. 

Gwyn breathed sharply and Azriel intertwined one hand with hers, the other brushing her hair back as she adjusted to him and bit her lip. He kissed every inch he could reach as she breathed, trying to ease the tension in her.

“I won’t move.” he said, caressing her cheek. “You can roll your hips up and see if you like it.” 

Gwyn’s eyelids fluttered as she did exactly that, another shaky breath slipping from her lips. 

“I like it.” 

“Good. Keep doing it until you really like it.” 

She licked her lips and Azriel had to kiss her again, a quiet groan slipping from him when she rolled her hips once more and Gwyn giggled breathlessly.

“Do it again.” he murmured, and she did. She made the choice to do it again and again until the slight discomfort at the fullness of him inside her faded and pleasure coursed through her body. 

“You are my choice.” she whispered, her legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him into her further.  

“Always.” he whispered in return and leaned in to kiss her tenderly as he started rocking into her slowly. 

She gasped softly at the sensation, her eyes locked on his as their bodies found their rhythm. Gwyn wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer to her as his hands and his lips touched her in all the ways she had always wanted to be touched. 

Lovingly. Tenderly. And most importantly, with her permission.

Her choice.  

He was her choice and one of the best she had ever made. 

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Phil Proposing To Dan Masterlist

A Christmas Ring - forphansake

Summary: Phil decides to do a radio show by himself but only because he has a special present to give to Dan.

A Christmas Proposal - doomedhowell

Summary: Dan and Phil usually spend their Christmas with their family but this year was different. They were spending their first Christmas alone together and Phil makes sure that it’s an extra special one.

All The Kingdom Lights Shine (just for me and you) (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan pulls out the third box. And the fourth box. And then, before Phil can start to overthink this, he gets down on one knee, right as Dan pulls out the fifth box, the velvet box. The tension in the room is unbelievable as Dan opens the box, staring at the ring in it. He gasps, quietly, and then his eyes immediately snap up at Phil, filling with tears.

Or: the one where Phil is a mess before proposing, but it’s all perfect in the end.

And, Like Putting On Glasses, I Saw the World in Perfect Clarity- cactuslester

Summary: Dan thinks this trip to the Isle of Man will be like all the other trips to visit the Lesters. Little does he know, Phil has a 3 carat surprise for him.

A Ring in a Box in a Box in a Box… (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: It’s Christmas, and Phil’s decided to make it a memorable one. Sure, the silly ‘box in a box in a box’ way of wrapping a present is funny enough to be remembered, but it’s the present that will really seal this Christmas in their memories.

Diamonds And Tears - paradisobound

Summary: Maybe there is something inside of Phil that made him stop and pick up a ring on his way home from Tesco. And maybe that same thing inside of him is what gave him the bright idea to propose on Christmas.

Four Little Words (ao3) - phandomsub

Summary: Proposing to Dan is the easiest thing Phil has ever done. But for Dan, saying yes is the hardest.

Happy New Year, My Love (ao3) - scifi

Summary: It’s new years eve and Phil wants to start 2019 by asking a very special question.

I’m Not Proposing (ao3) - lazyfic

Summary: Dan knows Phil’s going to propose while they’re on holiday in Japan and he won’t stop bringing it up.

Japan 2.0 - paradisobound

Summary: Phil decides to plan a trip to Japan for Dan because he wants to propose to him.

La Dolce Vita (ao3) - CrushingMagnolias

Summary: Phil plans a surprise engagement during their vegas trip at the Bellagio hotel.

Dan is head over heels, smitten, Phil Trash #1

lost in forever (ao3) - manchestereyes

Summary: Phil makes a very special video for his and Dan’s future child.

Or, Safiya and Tyler’s proposal video, but make it dnp.

Never Stop (You Still Get My Heart Racing) (ao3) - phantasticworks (steddieworks)

Summary: Dan and Phil celebrate Dan’s 29th birthday at home.

A cute, fluffy engagement fic that somehow took me two days and turned out to be 10k words.

Not just any anniversary (ao3) - danfernet

Summary: It’s October 19th, 2019. Dan and Phil’s tenth anniversary.

When Phil announces he has to go up north to visit his dad, Dan most certainly doesn’t expect the day to turn out the way it did.

Or, where Phil surprises Dan for a full day :)

phuture phusbands (ao3) - N_Chu4Ever

Summary: Dan’s opinions on weddings are pretty clear — marriage is piece of paper with some benefits, and organising a big fucking wedding is exhausting, and really, Phil, do we need it? Do we? The answer, of course, is no, and yet Phil is still thinking about it. As Dab and Evan’s Sims 4 wedding approaches, that thought process goes into overdrive.

Or: Phil proposes to Dan just after the Devan wedding is filmed.

Pictionary Proposal (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: Dan is with his family in France and Phil is planning to propose when he returns home.

Sand Dollars and a Shiny Rock (ao3) - counting2fifteen, paperowl, quackitity

Summary: Dan and Phil go on vacation, Phil tries to propose, things go terribly wrong, but also kind of right.

The Christmas Fic || 2017 (ao3) - yiffandquiff

Summary: How Christmas 2017 should have went

unexpectedly delighted (ao3) - shaylawrites (thominwtt)

Summary: So maybe it’s not a complete shock when Dan comes back early from his run and finds Phil fiddling with a ring in the middle of their kitchen.

When You’re Ready… (ao3) - Mangomelions (orphan_account)

Summary: Phil decides to buy a ring, so when Dan eventually proposes, they can have a cute double proposal. But what if Dan has had the same idea. Will they be waiting forever?

[adracat]

yes, hello. I’d like to attack you with unrelenting happiness for the next few minutes of your time. it’s a feedback loop originating from and re-projecting back to you.

first of all, seeing your deconstructions after stumbling upon your ao3 makes me regret missing out on the live updates from you and the community here (aniwave comments are dogshit)

thank you for your posts. they let me think critically about and appreciate g-witch that much more from novel analysis perspectives. reading back a bit, especially to your take on scenes such as ep10’s communication clear up, and seeing these pieces given the gravity and respect they deserve, is taking the bite off of the series’ conclusion.

speaking of treating the sulemio shaped hole in the networks from now on, a red tempest is the kind of fic one wishes they could distill and take intravenously at maximum drip.

it won’t be for everyone, and you think law of causality is your best (haven’t read it yet), but it feels like you’re writing professional grade work just for me with how it seemingly doesn’t miss or waste a line. you present a tight ship regardless of whether that’s how you run it. the story feels compact and layer woven yet flows along seamlessly and with that wonderful sense of OC unlimited potential, dropping shadows here and there but keeping me fully on my toes. still in the rising action, but hopefully multiple full arcs…? (worth!)

the spots of canon that you spun into a universe feel weighted, alive with the way your voice gives an inherent gravitas even to small supporting details, and nothing is more alive than your characters.

you do them so well, it’s impossible to stress enough. regardless of where they’re going in the future, where you’ve had them come from and be is so genuine and, in most cases, compliant/paying close homage in their personalities. your dialogue is a breath of life. eri and chuchu particularly, and prospera especially.

there are small things that are subtle like suletta being a bit less anxious at the start, and there are larger things that are less subtle like all of prospera— yours of whom I love— but everything’s working believably and in sync as you craft this beautiful story. my only complaint is that I think the next release is gonna be a sulemio heavy chapter during the job’s sudden distress, and it isn’t this weekend’s release date yet.

there’s a lot else, like the many juxtapositions, the slow burn, and other emotional/literary devices, but while I’ve already spent too long trying to put just this much of a review/praise bomb together, I’ve gotta jaw on a bit more about your fantastic perspective work with clear voices for each heroine. it’s so exciting getting into the younger couple’s heads when it comes to each other. you’re probably going to slaughter me with elnora and notrette, but ch11’s suletta and mio are already doing it with their pining.

thank you. it’s a joy and a pleasure. I hope to read you for a long time to come. I’d ask to share some of your brain chemicals, but reading the product makes mine just as happy. I hope that means we share a brain cell; then I could rise and meet the caliber. o7

That’s so sweet of you! And absolutely; sending you spiritual braincells 🤗 I put a wealth of thought into all my works but something about Sulemio and Prospera✨ sends my brain into overdrive. Law of Causality and A Red Tempest are passion driven works that I’m happy to share with likeminded people. If you ever do decide to give AASB and its sister works a try you may find interesting connections. ART is a bit of a spiritual sequel in a way. Though admittedly ART Prospera may be a rascally devil but is intentionally more likable than LoC ‘Prospera’. I decided to make her pathetic in ART for funsies 👏

Thanks so much for the kind words ❤️Encouragement gives me wings to confidently move forward—just like our merry cast!