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hottiesforhockey · 2 days ago

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naughty or nice ⎜n.hischier

🎄pairings: nico hischier x afab!reader ⎜ platonic jack hughes x afab!reader 🎄genre: smut ⎜romance ⎜ colleagues - to - lovers ⎜fake dating⎜ 🎄warnings: mentions of creepy boss ⎜ inappropriate touching ⎜ car sex ⎜ no mentions of protection - wrap it before you tap it ⎜ nico getting feisty ⎜ 🎄synopsis: You just wanted to avoid your creepy coworker, you didn’t know you would have to rely on an a "stranger" to be your fake boyfriend. 🎄word count: 5.7k 🎄authors note: this is the second last in my christmas special series, it is a rewrite of an old kpop fic I wrote but I hope you all still enjoy - next up is DDD with quinn hughes (not to mention my NYE John Marino fic) I hope you all enjoy, cause I know I did!

“The Christmas party will be held on Friday night at seven o’clock.” You boss begins concluding the meeting, shuffling his own papers into a pile before looking up at the group. “No kids permitted but partners are welcomed.” He adds looking at each of his team leaders, his eyes landing on you at the end of the table, “I look forwards to meeting everyone’s significant others.” Your bosses eye linger for a second too long before he calls your name, “Would you mind staying for a little bit longer?” You nod in response, pretending to organise your papers as your other colleagues shuffle out of the meeting room.

“So, are we going to be expecting your boyfriend to be attending this year?” You boss asks as the last person leaves the meeting room, the door swinging closed. You let out a quiet sigh as you turn towards you boss, a tight smile on your face. “You two have been together for a while now and we’ve never met him.” You boss continues, taking a few long strides till he stand in front of you. “I just find it funny, is all.” He tries to explain.

You take deep breaths as you try to force yourself to stay still, the older man tucking a long piece of hair behind you ear. To him you’re sure the gesture seemed sweet and romantic, but to you it was a threat, a show of power.

“I’ll see what I can do. He works night shifts so it’s hard to rearrange his schedule.” You say lightly, holding your papers tight to your chest, trying your hardest not to watch as your boss gazes over your body.

“Well I expect him to be there…” You boss says, and you let out a breath thinking he would take the hint, but your body tenses again as he leans forwards, his lips pressing just below your ear, “otherwise I’ll have to assume you’re lying to me.” You continue to smile as your boss glances at you one more time before sauntering out of the room, your body falling into one of the table chairs, a shiver running up your spine.

“Maybe I am lying to you, you absolute piece of garbage.” You hiss, wanting to cry out the frustration of your creepy boss. “What kind of disgusting, egotistical maniac think they can touch their employe— oh hey Jack.” You stop yourself short in your rant, only just noticing the stoic faced man who walks into the room.

You feel your cheeks flush as Jack closes the door behind him, his expression unreadable. He’s always been hard to read, but right now, his quiet demeanour feels more intimidating than comforting.

“How long have you been standing there?” you ask, trying to sound casual as you scramble to sit up straighter in your chair. Your voice trembles slightly, betraying your nerves.

Jack doesn’t answer immediately. He moves to the chair across from you and sits down, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. His dark eyes lock onto yours, and you shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Long enough,” he finally says, his voice low but steady. “What the hell was that about?” You swallow hard, feeling your throat tighten. The last thing you want is to talk about what just happened, but Jack’s not going to let it go. He’s your best friend — well to be honest he’s your only friend — and he knows you too well to believe any excuse you might try to come up with.

“It’s nothing,” you mumble, looking down at your hands as you fiddle with the edge of your stack of papers.

Jack’s jaw tightens. “Don’t lie to me,” he says firmly. “Does he do that often?” You feel your stomach churn as the memory of your boss’s hand brushing against your hair comes rushing back. You hug the papers tighter to your chest, as if they’re a shield that can protect you from the humiliation and fear bubbling inside you.

“It’s fine,” you say quietly. “He’s just overly friendly.” You dismiss, Jack leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He looks frustrated, but there’s something else in his expression—something softer, more vulnerable.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that,” he says after a long pause. “You shouldn’t have to put up with that creep by yourself, maybe you should tell someone about it.”

“I’ve been to HR, he’s my direct supervisor so no one will do anything. He’s my boss, Jack, there is nothing I can do except suck it up.” You rub your face lightly, trying to ignore the way Jack watches you with concern.

“What about Nico?” Jack says softly. You head whipping towards him in surprise.

“What about him?” You ask confused about where he was going with his suggestion.

“People take his opinion pretty seriously and I’m sure if you asked him for help he would do his best.” Everyone and their mother knew that Nico was a good guy, and good guys do everything they can to help anyone they can and you knew Nico had the sway with the higher ups to help you out, but you can’t help the way your head shakes at the suggestion.

“He has bigger things to worry about, than an entry level employee and her boundary crossing boss.” You whine, pushing the hair out of your face before standing from your chair, smiling one last time at your friend, hoping it reaches your eyes enough to convince him.

“I’ll be fine.” You reassure the man, who shakes his head in disbelief but says nothing more, You’re about to keep arguing, to insist that you don’t need anyone’s help, when the door opens again. Your heart jumps, thinking it might be your boss coming back, but it’s not.

It’s Nico.

Like captain of the team, Nico.

Like first overall draft pick, Nico.

Like your secret office crush, Nico.

Like good guy, Nico.

You freeze in place, caught somewhere between dread and disbelief. Nico steps into the room, his tall frame casting a shadow across the carpeted floor. His sharp brown eyes scan the room, landing briefly on Jack before settling on you. The warmth in his gaze feels out of place in the sterile tension hanging in the air.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asks, his voice smooth but tinged with concern.

Jack stands, his chair scraping against the floor as he does. “No, I was just leaving,” he says, giving Nico a pointed look that seems to communicate volumes. He turns back to you. “We’ll talk later,” he murmurs, before slipping out of the room and closing the door behind him.

You’re left alone with Nico, the silence almost suffocating. He takes a step closer, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. You feel a rush of heat creep up your neck as his eyes meet yours.

“You okay?” he asks, his tone gentle but direct. It’s such a simple question, but it’s enough to make your composure wobble.

“I… yeah, I’m fine,” you say, too quickly. You’re not sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

Nico doesn’t look convinced. He tilts his head slightly, studying you like he’s piecing together a puzzle. “You sure? Jack seemed… worried.”

Your heart clenches. You glance away, pretending to straighten your papers on the table. “Jack worries too much. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Nico steps closer, and you feel the air shift around you. “That’s not what it looked like,” he says softly, his voice carrying an undercurrent of steel. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to handle it alone.”

The lump in your throat grows, but you swallow it down. You’ve always been good at bottling things up, at pretending everything’s fine even when it isn’t. But Nico’s earnestness chips away at your defences.

“It’s complicated,” you admit finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I… I don’t want to cause trouble.”

Nico’s brows knit together, and he exhales sharply through his nose. “Trouble?” he repeats, his tone incredulous. “You think standing up for yourself is causing trouble?”

You look up at him, startled by the intensity in his voice. His jaw is tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He’s angry, but not at you—you can see that clearly. It’s a protective kind of anger, one that makes your chest ache in a way you can’t quite explain.

But Nico never got angry.

At anyone.

Ever.

Except maybe now.

“I… I don’t know,” you mumble, feeling suddenly exposed under his gaze. “He’s my boss, Nico. What am I supposed to do? Go up against him? Risk my job?”

Nico takes another step closer, until he’s standing right in front of you. His presence is overwhelming, but not in a bad way. It’s grounding, like an anchor in a storm.

“Yes,” he says firmly. “If that’s what it takes, then yes. You don’t deserve to be treated like that. No one does.” Your eyes sting, and you blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

“You make it sound so easy,” you say, your voice cracking. “Do you know how hard I worked to even get considered for a job here?” Nico’s expression softens, and he reaches out, his hand hovering near your arm. He doesn’t touch you, but the gesture is enough to steady your trembling resolve.

“It’s not easy,” he says gently. “But you’re not alone. You have people who care about you. Jack, the team, me… we’ll have your back.” You look up at him, searching his face for any hint of insincerity. But all you see is determination and a quiet kind of kindness that makes your chest tighten.

“Why would you do that?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

Nico’s lips quirk into a small, almost shy smile. “Because it’s the right thing to do,” he says simply. “And because you… you matter.” Your breath catches, and for a moment, you forget how to speak. The vulnerability in his words, the way his eyes hold yours—it’s almost too much to handle.

“Thank you,” you manage to say, your voice thick with emotion.

Nico nods, his smile growing a fraction wider. “You don’t have to thank me,” he says. “Just let me help. Give me something I can do to help.” The idea pops into your head before you can even shake it away.

“Nope, can’t think of anything.”

“You’re lying, I can see that you’re lying.” He lets out a soft chuckle, his arms crossing against his chest in amusement.

“There is no way you can tell, I’ve got a better poker face then anyone here.” You scoff, mirroring Nico’s position but crossing your arms, raising your brow in challenge.

“You bite the inside of your cheek and you blink more when you’re lying.” Nico says quickly, a smile growing on your face as you mouth fall open a little. “Just tell me your idea.”

“No, it’s stupid.”

“I doubt it - I told you I just want to help.” Nico quips back, taking a step forwards his arms loosening as one reaches towards you, pausing before dropping back to his side, “C’mon spit it out.”

“I need a fake boyfriend.”

Nico’s eyebrows shoot up, and for a moment, he looks like he’s trying to process your words. His mouth opens slightly, then closes again, as if he’s weighing the best response.

“A fake boyfriend?” he repeats, his voice laced with cautious amusement.

You nod quickly, your cheeks burning. “Yeah… it’s stupid, I know,” you mumble, fiddling with the corner of your papers again. “But he’s been pressing me about bringing someone to the Christmas dinner, and so last year I just said my boyfriend couldn’t make it, and ever since he insisted on meeting him.” Nico leans back slightly, his arms now loosely crossed as he studies you. There’s a flicker of something in his expression—curiosity. “But I think he’s starting to catch on.” You admit

“And you think a fake boyfriend will… solve this?”

“I think it’ll buy me some breathing room,” you say hurriedly, your words tumbling out before you can stop them. “If he thinks I’m really in a relationship, maybe he’ll back off. At least for a little while.”

Nico doesn’t say anything right away. His eyes search your face, and you feel like he’s looking right through you, seeing every crack in the facade you’ve worked so hard to maintain. Finally, he exhales, running a hand through his hair.

“All right,” he says, his voice calm but decisive.

You blink. “All right… what?”

“All right, I’ll do it,” he says, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “I’ll be your fake boyfriend.” For a moment, you’re sure you’ve misheard him.

“You will?” you stammer, staring at him like he’s grown a second head. Nico shrugs, his expression casual but with a hint of playfulness.

“Why not? You need help, and I’m offering. Besides,” he adds, his smile growing just a little, “it might be fun.” Your brain feels like it’s short-circuiting. You hadn’t actually expected him to agree, let alone so quickly.

“Nico, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupts gently, his gaze steady. “If it helps keep that guy off your back, I’m in.”

You swallow hard, trying to process the turn this conversation has taken. “I don’t know what to say,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Say yes,” Nico replies, his tone light but sincere.

You bite your lip, the weight of his offer settling over you. It feels like a lifeline, and you know you’d be a fool to turn it down. “Okay,” you say finally, your voice shaky but resolute. “Thank you, Nico. Really.”

He grins, and for the first time in what feels like ages, you feel a flicker of hope. “Don’t worry about it.” Nico says quickly, “Besides no harm done in showing up to the party with a pretty girl on my arm.”

The night of the Christmas dinner arrives faster than you anticipated, leaving you both excited and riddled with nerves. Your apartment is quiet, save for the sound of you pacing back and forth in front of your mirror, fussing over the dress you’d picked out weeks ago. It’s nice enough, but it feels lacklustre now that the evening is here.

You’re mid-sigh when a knock sounds at your door, startling you out of your thoughts. Quickly, you toss your robe over your half-zipped dress and shuffle to answer. When you pull the door open, Nico is there, looking so effortlessly put together in a pressed white dress shirt and tailored pin stripe suit that it makes your stomach do an annoying little flip.

“Hey,” he says, offering a small, boyish smile as he steps inside. You catch the faint scent of his cologne as he moves past you, and it takes an extra second to gather your thoughts.

“Hey,” you reply, trying to sound casual. Then you notice the garment bag draped over his arm. “What’s that?” Nico’s smile grows, but there’s something bashful about it, a faint dusting of pink rising to his cheeks. He holds the bag up, almost like he’s presenting you with a peace offering.

“I, uh… I brought you something. For tonight.”

You blink, your eyes shifting between him and the garment bag. “What do you mean? I already have a dress—”

“I know,” he cuts in, scratching the back of his neck as his gaze flickers to the floor. “I just thought… maybe you’d like this one better. I mean, not that your dress isn’t great! I’m sure it’s great. I just—”

“Nico,” you interrupt, trying to hide a laugh. “Take a breath.”

He exhales sharply, a sheepish grin breaking through. “Right. Sorry. Here, just… look at it.” Carefully, he unzips the bag to reveal an absolutely breathtaking gown. It’s emerald green with subtle beading that catches the light just so, giving it a timeless elegance. The fabric flows beautifully, the kind of dress that looks like it belongs in an old Hollywood film.

Your jaw drops. “Nico…” You reach out to touch the dress, your fingers brushing over the soft, luxurious fabric.“This is… stunning. But you didn’t have to do this. This must have cost—”

“Don’t worry about that,” he says quickly, waving off your concern. “It’s… It’s a gift.”

Your heart skips a beat. “A gift?” Nico shifts on his feet, suddenly looking almost boyish in his discomfort. “Yeah. Well, I didn’t pick it out on my own,” he admits, his ears turning pink now.

“I, uh… I called my mum. She’s the one who helped me pick it. She’s good at this kind of thing.”

For a second, you just stare at him, completely floored. “You got your mum involved?”

He rubs the back of his neck again, his smile turning shy. “She was thrilled, honestly. She’s been wanting to meet you since I told her about… well, you know, this whole thing.”

The mention of his mom melts something in your chest. The idea of Nico going out of his way to make sure everything was perfect—and even involving his mom—is almost too much to process.

“Nico, this is…” You pause, swallowing the lump in your throat. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” He looks up at you, something soft and earnest in his eyes.

“You deserve to feel special tonight. And if we’re doing this whole fake couple thing, I figure we should go all in, right?” You just nod at his words, the two of you looking at each other briefly before you step away clearing your throat.

“I’ll…um— go try it on.” You say quickly, turning to leave as Nico nods his head.

“The car will be here in about 15 minutes.” He notes, “But don’t rush.” You just smile to yourself as you close the door to your bedroom, holding the dress tight against your chest as you let out a long breath.

“Can you stop fidgeting?” Nico chastises as you adjust your dress once more as you look at yourself in the mirror. The stunning emerald dress was something Nico has been insistent on you wearing as despite you feeling severely overdressed for a christmas party. The two of you had spent the last few days deciding on the story you would weave to convince your coworkers of your dating history.

“Remember we need to stick to the truth as much as possible, it’ll make things easier.” He had said the night you sat down with pizza to hash out your relationship. “We met through Jack.” He said quickly, the truth.

“We spent christmas break together and decided to seek out something more with each other.” He continued, watching as your wrote it down. “We kept things a secret to avoid any scandals at work but decided after five years it was time to let everyone know.” You nodded as you jotted his words down on the piece of paper.

“I’ll pull some strings with Janet in HR, ask her to play along, pretend there was a contract always filled out.” Nico says quietly and you freeze, your head shooting up to glance at him. “Don’t worry she’s an old friend, she won’t snitch.” His smile eases you and you jot it down on the paper.

“Do you think this will actually work?” You ask turning away from the mirror towards him. His own hands finish smoothing out the vest of his pin stripe suit.

“It will. I’ll make it work.” He assures you, his sunshine grin dampening any concerns that still drifted through your head. “We better head off if we want to get there in time.” You lean over to your bed, picking up the white purse slinging it over your shoulder. You watch him tuck his arms inside the suit jacket, straightening the expensive material.

The work christmas party always involved people dressing to the nines - everyone wanted one day to pretend they were rich and famous, right? Nico has splurged on his suit, claiming “if we are announcing that we’re together I want to leave a good impression.” You had balked at his words, this man was acting as if he was some stranger to the people attending, not the captain of the team they all worked for.

Nico has prepaid a car to take you both to the event and both to your separate homes afterwards, he had spared no expense to make it seem as if you were really dating.

The car ride is filled mainly with the two of you rerunning the story, the plan. You were to enter the building first alone, Nico would come in after and fulfil his duties to the shareholders and management, he would always be within earshot in case you needed anything. He would eventually introduce himself to your boss as your secret boyfriend, as quietly as possible.

Nico gives you a bright grin as his driver opens the car door, offering you a hand to slide out of the car. You return a tight smile back, repeating the words Nico has whispered in your ears as the car pulled up to the venue.

“I will be there the whole time, if you want to leave just squeeze my hand twice.”

Your entrance to the party was easy, you said brief hello’s and gave holiday greeting to the employees that you knew, keeping an eye out for your supervisor amongst the already tipsy guests. You manage to spot Janet from HR in the crowd the woman giving you a wink and a cheeky smile from across the room.

“I feel like you’re going to need this.” Jack whispers in your ear, handing you the glass of champagne. He was aware of the plan with Nico, it felt wrong to leave him out of it. Jack stands a few steps away as he takes in your appearance. “You look amazing by the way.” He mumbles.

The four hundred and fifty dollar gown was swaying around your ankles. It was aline, tight along your bodice, the square neckline resembling a corset of sorts, the skirt of the dress a little more dramatic as it dropped off your hips. Your favourite part was how the dress tied with straps against your bare back, just grazing the base of your spine with the skirt fabric.

The room falls quiet as a presence walks through the door.

Nico somehow managed to look larger in his suit. The three piece pin stripe attire fitting him with perfection, accentuation his broad shoulders and defined waist. The man exuding calmness as he walked in, welcoming everyone with a beaming ‘Merry Christmas’, the party resuming as the first chairman greeted the young captain.

Jack held his glass up in a cheers as the two of you continued your night by the bar, gossiping about the mothers who decided tonight was their night. You had managed to make it two hours into the party before even catching a glimpse of the man you hoped would be too drunk to notice you were even here.

You could feel him finally catch you in the crowd, his eyes darkened as he spots you alone beside Jack. “I’m just going to run to the bathroom.” You say, handing your friend the empty glass of champagne, scuffling through the crowd hoping to escape to the restroom before your supervisor could catch up to you.

“Now where do you think you’re going?” The voice calls from behind you, the hand gripping your forearms and wrenching you away from the bathroom door only a metre away. You let out a surprised yelp as your boss grips your arm pulling you towards him.

“Let go of me.” You hiss as you try to tug your arm free of his grip. You could tell his was drunk, the way his steps stumbled, his eyes were blurred, not to mention the wafting smell of overpriced liquor. The man just laughed at your attempts to free your arm, reaching out with his other hand to secure you other arm as well.

“I must say you look delicious as always.” He croons, his eyes grazing over your body as he takes in the tight bodice of your dress. “I was surprise to see you show up alone, couldn’t convince your boyfriend to tag along?” He teases, a shiver running up your spine as he pulls your closed to him, his breath running along the skin of your neck.

“Please, let me go.” You say again, your voice not wavering as you look around for other passerby’s. “I won’t ask again, this is assault.”

“You know, I’ve always wondered if maybe you just made up your boyfriend, pretended to play hard. You’ve always known how much I’ve wanted you, maybe you’re doing all this to tease me.” His words are slurred as he presses a wet kiss to your neck, your body tensing up.

“Please don’t do this.” You plead, “Just let me go.” You ask one more time. You knew a drunk man was more likely to do things he shouldn’t, and with how brash your boss was sober your doubted he’d show you much professionalism while intoxicated. You tug your arms one more time, hoping to free at least one of them, when a hand reaches out to grip your assailants wrist.

“She asked you three times.” Nico’s voice is dangerously low, he squeezes against the wrist hard, your boss letting out a pained groan as he releases your left arm. You watch in silence as Nico takes a step in front of you, reaching out to take your boss’s other wrist, repeating the action until both your arms are free, Nico having a tight hold of the drunk man’s arms.

“Listen closely, because I will only say it once.” Nico starts, his eyebrows drawn tight as he leans in, “You will be escorted to your office, you will collect your belongings and vacate the building immediately, any resistance and you can sober up at the local police station.” You watch as your boss’s face pales, his eyes darting between you and his boss.

“Don’t look at her.” Nico snaps. “You will be issues with a two week notice on Monday but you are not to return to the building on any circumstances, are we clear?” He says,

“You can’t do this to me.” Your boss screams tugging at his arms still securely in Nico’s grip

“I can and I did — now were my instructions clear enough for you?” Nico continues, his body stepping closer to your boss, his voice barely above a whisper, your ex-supervisor nods furiously as Nico releases his arms, you recognise the large figure that steps up behind up and the security guard in the lobby.

“Take good care of him.” Nico says with a tight nod, the security guard just grins back in response.

You let out a shaky sigh as Nico turns towards you, his hand reaching out for you.

“Did he hurt you?” He questions as he touches your arms gently. So gently you barely feel his fingers smooth the red bruising on your skin.

“I’m okay.” You whisper, watching him look at the redness on your wrists with a frown. “Really, Nico, I’m okay.” You reiterate, his gaze finally snapping up to your face, his warm hands wrapping around your burning wrists, the one gesture soothing the ache.

“I should’ve stayed with you.” He grumbles, his frown still sitting on his face. You smile and shake your head.

You tug on your arms lightly, a clear difference between the man standing before you and the one that had been escorted away. Nico releases you easily, his frown growing as he fears you’ll step away from him. You hands reach out pushing some of his neatly swept hair back into place, the locks having fallen in front of his eyes in his rush to get to you.

“I am okay.” You say one more time, your hands sitting on Nico’s cheeks as you force his to keep eye contact, to ensure he understand that you’re telling the truth. His expression relaxes slightly as he looks down at you, his eyes scanning you for any signs of untruth.

You shake your head with a light laugh as you step forward, stepping up onto your tippy toes as you press a soft kiss to his cheek. “My hero.” You coo, as you fall back to the base of your heels, smiling up at him.

Nico stands stunned for a few minutes before breaking out in a grin. He takes his turn, leaning down slowly, catching your lips with his. The kiss is soft, sweet, his hands gentle against the bare skin of your back as you pulls you to him. You fingers scratch at the base of his skull, fiddling with the hair.

“I don’t know if this is appropriate after what happened.” He whispers against your lips but you just shrug, kissing him again.

“Fuck appropriate.” You huff, pulling your face away from his, “I think you should take me home.”

Nico doesn’t waste time, he steps away from you, grabbing your hand with his, lacing your fingers together as he looks for the quickest escape route. The party is in full swing, as he guides you through the crowd, managing to somehow avoid every drunk colleague that tries to grab him for a conversation. You chuckle, as he side steps one of the sponsors, tugging you after him as he smack the button for the elevator.

“The driver is on his break.” Nico says softly, as the elevator doors open, pulling the SUV’s keys from his jacket pocket. He hadn’t expected to leave for another hours or two and had told his driver to go down the street to get dinner.

The elevator doors close, and you leans up pressing a breezy kiss on the underside of his ears, nipping at the skin lightly with your teeth.

“The car will have to do.” You speak against his flushed skin, the man letting out a shudder as he holds your hand tighter.

The sound of Nico wrenching open the car door brings you back to the moment, the man clambering inside the car, tugging you in after him. The door slams closed as Nico pulls you into his lap, his mouth finding the scented skin of your neck, letting out a long groan as the fresh smell of mango hits his senses.

“This is so fucking wrong.” He swears, as you tug the dress up around your hips, straddling his thick things as he glances over your body. You just smile, your hands reaching for his belt. Nico puts up no resistance as you loosen the faux leather, tugging his button open and pulling down the zipper just as quickly.

“We can do things right later.” You say, “Right now I need your dick inside me.” Nico hisses as your hand reaches into his tight breaches, pulling his hard cock from the restraints of his underwear.

“Are you sure this isn’t some kind of hero complex?” He asks, as you pump his cock a few times, sliding the oozing pre cum down his length. “I heard girls tend to feel like they owe favours when someone helps them.” Nico groans out as your adjust your panties under your dress, shuffling further into his lap as his cock grazes your folds.

“I don’t owe you anything.” You say softly, looking down at him as his cock sinks inside of you. “This is you doing me a favour.” You add, letting out a sigh of relief as Nico’s hand grip your hips, helping you slide down him slowly.

“Can’t argue with that.” He responds, his voice light as you close your eyes the feeling of his thick cock bottoming out inside of you. He leans forwards pressing soft kiss against your shoulders as you rock your hips forwards and back.

“I’m so glad you’re rich.” You whine as Nico sucks harshly against your skin, his gaze shooting to you confused for a moment before his lips reattach to your jaw. “You windows are tinted and no one can see their captain fucking an employee and his teammates best friend.” You coo, the man beneath you bucking his hips up at your words.

“Does that turn you on?” You question with surprise, Nico just nods.

“God, you’re so pretty.” He mumbles as he pushes hair of your shoulder, glancing down at your heaving chest, pressing kisses on any skin that available to him. Your thighs work hard in rising you up slightly, before dropping you back down, your hips bucking forwards every time his pelvis rubs against your clit.

“Say it again.” You mumble, your lip catching between your teeth as he trails soft touches over your skin.

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” He says.

“I would give anything to have you like this, on top of me, every night.” He continues, his own hips bucking up to meet you as he feels your thrusts begin to slow.

“I want you to be mine, I want us to be something.” He whispers, tucking hair behind your ear, his hand resting against your cheek. You nuzzle into his hand, pressing a gentle peck against his wrist as he smiles up at you.

“That’s the sex talking.” You hiss at a particularly aggressive thrust.

“No it’s cause you’re perfect.” He says in awe as your thighs clench, your body stopping as you let out a small whimper falling against his chest. His hips thrust up a few times before he’s joining you in a high, heavy gasps the only thing filling the car.

The windows were fogged up, the both of you with a light layer of sweat on your skin.

“Do you think you’re driver will be mad?” You question, tugging a laugh from the tired man under you.

“Probably.” Nico answers, pressing a kiss to your cheek before helping you off of him, adjusting your dress to the best of his abilities. “Guess we’ll both just have to be on the naughty list this year.”

#nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl x reader #nhl smut #nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier smut #nico hischier fanfic #christmas special

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 7 hours ago

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Here I am finally! 🥳

I loved this chapter, you perfectly pictured all the feelings they have and made it all so angsty, i love some well written angst sometimes and this works so well 🥲

“Despite it all, and I know how stupid this sounds. How stupid this is. I still… can’t stop thinking about him.” You confess out loud.

Girl, same. SAME.

When he held your face in his hand and wiped your tears you knew that whatever was going on, his feelings for you were not something to question. He wanted you on a primal level and you wanted him to take what he needed from you.

This is so beautiful, I can imagine him doing this to me, I would melt instantly 🫠 GIIIIIRL, He loves you, he’s just bad at communicating, you know 😭

Not to mention no one had pleasured you like Joel Miller. You were absolutely smitten by everything he gave to you. He made you insatiable for him in every way.

Yep, she’s me 100%

As he started playing, he blocked out everything around him. His mind was just filled with the memories of Tess. What he loved. What he wanted. What he never got and never will. What he would always mourn but no longer desire. His time with her was over for him. He could feel his heart aching as he sang, but also getting lighter, not realizing how heavy this all was weighing on him for such a long time until he was letting it go

This description 😭 He’s so sweet, he has the biggest heart deep down inside him, I want to cry 🥺

A conflicting wave of emotions tears through him and it takes everything not to lose his composure. He takes the deepest breath, closes his eyes and it isn’t Tess that comes to mind.

It’s you.

He’s so pookie, I love him 🥺

You had 34 unread messages from Joel. 9 missed calls and 3 voicemails. You fought the urge to see what he had to say and instead gave notice to your other missed calls.

And desperately down so bad, pls, I need to hug him 💔

You hugged the shirt to your chest and breathed in his masculine scent that still lingered. The scent that drove you wild with desire.

Oh, I’m melting, bye 🫠

Settling on the second picture you sent, he focuses on how deranged and needy you looked. Hungry for his cock. Your breasts were perfectly in view and still partially clad in his shirt. His scent was all over you in that moment. You were his.

This whole scene is SO HOT 🥵 And I actually love that he’s so hungry for her that he can’t even keep his hands off his cock heheheh 🤭

He was dressed in some dirty jeans that hugged him perfectly and heavy work boots. His torso clad in a rustic, plaid flannel not too different from the one you stole. The sleeves are pushed up and bunched on his forearms and his hands protected with leather gloves.

This whole thing is going to be stuck in my mind for a long time, Jesus, I need lumberjack Joel so bad it’s ridiculous 🥵

The area between his shoulder blades was damp and dark with sweat. The curls in his hair were an unruly mess, especially where they met the hot perspiration on his neck.

Oh yes, sweaty Joel is doing things to me 🤤

The desire to have his arms on you in this moment and feel the full force of his body against you

Crying 😭 the end is equally beautiful and painful, I can’t wait for them to stop arguing 🥲

Another beautiful chapter, my dear, you’re doing so great 🥹🥰

The Wolf You Feed (Part 5)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count: 7.3k

Part 5 / ? (Ongoing) A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T

Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.

Chapter Warnings: ANGST. Smut. POV-Switching. Rated Explicit. 18+ MDNI. See series masterlist for general warnings.

A/N: Hang in there friends. I will ease your pain soon 🧡

The next day you were, for the most part, unconsolable. Marlene let you lay around in her guest bed while you faded in between sleep and numbness.

The pain was unfamiliar. Hurt because it was so unexpected. Amplified because you were falling so hard for him and thought he felt the same way. Hurt by the immense weight of betrayal and deception that he dumped on you last night. Hurt by the thought that he didn’t want you to know. Hurt because despite the pain you still felt a longing and prayed to just wake from the nightmare like it was all just a bad dream.

The early afternoon sun gave its best attempt to bring some life to you, but you simply rolled away from the window and wrapped yourself up in your warm cocoon. Your phone screen lit up on the nightstand for the umpteenth time and you ignored it.

The apathy you were feeling was weighing you down, paralyzing you from moving from your safe haven. It felt like time wasn’t moving either, and you were just trapped in this moment and helpless to do anything about it.

The 360 your emotions took in the span of 24 hours was unprecedented. It took everything out of you and you can’t stop ruminating on what was and what could have been. Where do you go from here?

Last night, you don’t remember much of what happened when you left Coppers. You were inconsolable and Marlene felt too responsible for you to let you go home by yourself in your condition. She insisted you get in her car and she brought you to her apartment which was not too far away.

She didn’t ask you any questions, and you could only assume what she could possibly be thinking about you now. You felt embarrassed and sick to your stomach whenever flashes from the night before popped into your mind.

How could you have been so stupid?

A tiny knock on the door caught your attention and Marlene meekly poked her head in. She wandered over to the bed and sat at the edge.

“Come on. I made us lunch and you are going to eat.” She patted your bundled up shoulder and got into your face to glare at you. This request was not optional at this point. You owed her big. She placed a bottle of water on the nightstand and you saw her eye your phone lighting up.

“Fine. Give me a minute?” You didn’t sound very convincing. “I promise.”

Marlene left you some clothes to borrow while you were there. An oversized long sleeve shirt and some sweatpants. Comfortable.

Marlene had lunch fixed for you both and slid over a hot cup of coffee as you approached the kitchen table.

She was being far too kind to you. On the way home you remember little beyond the haze of being drunk and your breakdown. You remember sobbing and telling her you didn’t want to be alone. She ended up bringing you back to her place in town and babysat you through the night.

You were grateful to have made a friend in her and her kindness was the light guiding you through the turmoil.

You manage a few bites from your sandwich out of consideration but don’t touch your coffee. The awkward silence is broken after a few moments, you knew the conversation was coming.

“So…” She pauses and then just comes out with it. “You and Joel, huh?” She attempts to drop the topic casually and friendly.

“Not anymore.” You feel your eyes well up again. Tears from anger, sadness and heartbreak. A trifecta of emotions that you don’t recall ever feeling before. Everything about Joel was intense and had been from the moment you met him.

You realize that since meeting him it had all been mostly bottled up inside you. Except for some vague chatter at work, your life with Joel was mostly a secret. Something you kept private because you were shy about being judged for falling for a man so much older than you.

You tell her everything.

“Babe, he isn’t worth the tears.” she said so confidently, like she had so much knowledge about him that you didn’t know.

“I had no idea about Tess.” The words spill out. “I just assumed it was only me. I would have never… How stupid-”

“Joel is an asshole” she cuts you off. Her tone is getting more heated as she gets frustrated that you are blaming yourself for anything in all of this. “What he did was wrong.” Marlene tried her best to keep her judgements to herself, but she always had been very outspoken. You knew she would be an open book if you would just ask. She seemed to harbor some resentment that was starting to slip out.

“How long have they.. You know. Been together?” you choke on the words.

“As long as I’ve known them.” she catches the way you react and takes a step back to explain. “They used to be close. Really close. Over the years they have grown apart. I think nowadays they just fuck around with each other when they are feeling lonely.”

Your heart is in your throat and you want to throw up. You go to speak but can’t find the words, only more tears.

“Sorry. I mean, you should know this.”

She's right, you should know this, and Joel should be the one telling you. You think back to how he was so quick to push you away at the bar and wanted to talk later. You knew something was up and he wasn’t ready for you to find out. Even if you never really defined anything between you both, he led you on. He used you.

“Tess isn’t a saint either.” She interrupts you as if she can hear your thoughts. “This has been a long time coming. They are both toxic.”

You wanted to know what she meant by that, but your mind couldn’t get past his wrongdoings. From where you sat last night, it looked like Tess was caught off guard by him too.

You felt sick to your stomach the moment you realized you were the other woman. Tess didn’t deserve that.

The tears were flowing again. You drag the back of your hand across your face to quickly wipe them away.

“You deserve better.” She reassures you.

Do you, though? You wonder.

You never had the best luck with men. The way Joel made you feel was not something you would be able to replace or move on from easily. He awoke something inside you that you needed to feed. He had a darkness that you were drawn to. A sexual energy that you never sought out before. It was so perfectly hidden behind some neighborly deeds and a tired man’s body.

“Despite it all, and I know how stupid this sounds. How stupid this is. I still… can’t stop thinking about him.” You confess out loud.

You were not a stupid person by any stretch, but you were feeling blinded by how he had been making you feel up until last night. Even after you confronted him, before you really learnt what was going on, you still felt like he was doing this for you. He wasn’t acting like the same person, but you could feel the Joel you knew was still there inside him. Like the face he was putting on was for everyone else, but your Joel was waiting in the wings.

When he had you alone by the bathrooms you could feel how much he wanted you. See how much hurt there was in his eyes when you were crying. He told you it wasn’t about you and you really wanted to believe that was true.

You weren’t in a formal relationship with him. You never had that talk with him. You never asked if there was anyone else. These thoughts were creeping in and making you feel stupid and partially responsible. Your conscience was desperately looking for any excuse to help Joel’s case.

Marlene rolls her eyes. “Joel is nothing but bad news. Look at what he already did to you. Forget him.”

Easier said than done, you think to yourself. The truth is that up until his performance he had been the first guy in your life that made you feel truly desired. It couldn’t have felt so real if it wasn’t true.

He needed you, but you also needed him.

“Marlene…” You pause, trepidation in your tone. “I was falling for him. I think I was in l-”

“Stop.” She cuts you off. “You liked his… handsome charm, don’t confuse it for something more.” An annoyance peaks in her voice.

You had fallen for people before and had relationships based purely on lust and attraction, but this was not it. It was something so unique that you couldn’t even put into words or feelings. A high that he gave you that you had to chase because you needed that next fix so badly.

“And…” She pauses before cautiously saying more. “He is old enough to be your dad. Come on, this wasn’t going anywhere!” She was trying to make you see the obvious things without sounding too critical.

You actually liked that he was older. It was so attractive if not a little bit taboo which just made it that much more exciting. He was worn on the edges but he was so confident and capable with everything he did. Not to mention no one had pleasured you like Joel Miller. You were absolutely smitten by everything he gave to you. He made you insatiable for him in every way.

You brushed off her comments about his age. It was something you loved about him. Something that turned you on that you didn’t feel like defending.

Still, by all counts she was right. You knew the right thing to do would be to move on with your life, without Joel.

“I’m sure whatever you had was fun, but that is all it was ever going to be.” Her matter of fact way of stating things helped to make the reality hit a little less hard.

Maybe the reason it felt so good with Joel is because you wanted it to be something more than it was. The pit in your stomach reminds you of its presence and how this whole ordeal makes you feel sick.

There is a long silence between the two of you, and she no doubt can tell how heavy the words are hitting you. She finishes her coffee and clears the table, taking away your hardly touched plate.

You sit with your thoughts for a moment before joining her at the kitchen sink. You hand her your mostly full coffee mug to pour in the basin.

The elephant in the room is getting too big to ignore.

It didn’t matter how you felt or what you wanted when there was someone else involved.

“What am I going to do now?” You ask her with teary eyes and a meek voice.

“I know Tess pretty well, and she can be scornful. I don’t think she knows about you and Joel, and you should keep it that way.”

You feel yourself disassociated and want to just disappear. Go back to your Boston life and pretend you never met Joel Miller. Find a new job. A new place to live and start fresh, again.

“I like you, and I think you got put in a real shitty situation.” That was an understatement. “I’m not going to say anything to her, ok?”

You nod, and believe her words.

“You are done with Joel, right?” She looks at you for confirmation. “Right?”

“Yeah. Of course.” You look away from her as you answer and the tears flow again. You weren’t sure if you were lying to her or lying to yourself, but you knew it wasn’t truthful. Whatever path you carved out next would be wrong if it wasn’t leading away from Joel.

“Then cry as much as you need to now and put this behind you.”

She brings you in for a comforting hug and you sob into her shoulder.

The worst part of it all is that you still have feelings for him.

—

JOEL POV - The Night Before

As he walked towards the stage to play, he was a wreck inside. Looking calm and composed was just a facade. He was nervous enough to be playing tonight with his carefully thought out song, but now knowing you may very well still be around was tipping him over the edge. There was no turning back at this point and he had to stay the course. He had to get this off his chest and had to wash his hands of Tess. Whatever comes next he would have to take it as it comes.

The thought of hurting you in any way made him sick.

Taking his seat he was grateful for the bright lights on him, making the audience look like anonymous shadows. At least in his mind he could pretend it was a room of nobodies. He never was one to have stage fright. He was a talented enough musician and most of the audience was drunk. He didn’t care what they thought anyways.

He drags his hand along the neck of the guitar, feeling the strings under his calloused fingertips. Taking in a deep breath he adjusts the guitar in his lap. The light reflects off his watch and the shiny, polished wood of his instrument. The stage feels lonely as the room silences with all eyes on him.

He strums his guitar and flexes his hand to loosen up. There is no turning back now and this is something he has to do.

“This one’s…. for Tess.” his voice shakes as the words leave his mouth.

This moment the only thing that mattered was that she heard this. He never was one with words or talking about his feelings, but he always had been able to lean on music when it mattered. It was the only time he truly let himself be vulnerable.

As the song progressed it felt cathartic. Letting some of his anger slip into his tone and fade out into the ether, taking along his frustrations. Confronting all the feelings he had been holding in for so long. The sadness he felt was mourning, and he knew it would only get better now that he was moving on. He had already been mourning her loss for a long time without truly acknowledging it. Until now.

Living in the memory

Of a love that never was

He was feeling bolder and confident that his decision to be done with Tess was the right one. It didn’t erase their history or make her impact on his life any less significant. What they had was special and always would be. It didn’t have to overstay like it was in order to preserve that history. It was time to move on and stop feeding the resentment that was overtaking everything left that was good.

He would always love her for their history and she had to know so that she could move on too before the damage between them was too great. He knew she would understand and accept it; in time.

Then you crept back into his mind. Finally he was giving himself permission to allow it to, properly.

You filled in all that empty space that was vacant for just mere moments. Another realization that he wasn’t giving everything to you and how much he wanted to. He had been indulging in your companionship with trepidation. Reluctant to open himself up and fearful that it would be another road to nowhere.

Afraid you might not want him and his darkness that came along once you really knew him.

His eyes were finally adjusted to the lights just enough to make out the details in the shadows in front of him.

He couldn’t help himself to look up and scan the audience, searching for you passively. Deep down, he knew you were still out there. He could sense that unexplainable feeling when someone is watching you intently. It made his heart race as he struggled to fight the distraction and finish his song.

'Cause I've done everything I know

To try and make you mine

And I think I'm gonna love you

As if by instinct, he zeroed in on you standing towards the back of the room with tears in your eyes. An invisible rope tethering you together against the odds in the sea of shadows.

When he caught your eyes he had to look away in shame. Disgusted with himself that you were collateral damage in his situationship. He choked on his final words, and they came out low and shaky.

For a long, long time.

He strummed the last chords of his song and fought back the feeling in his throat that was bubbling up. He felt like he couldn’t breathe and the weight of his actions was crushing him. The silence in the room filled him with dread and it felt like time was standing still, like he was in front of everyone naked with his emotions raw and exposed before them. His chest was tight, bursting with an anxious heart beating rapidly with heavy thuds.

A conflicting wave of emotions tears through him and it takes everything not to lose his composure. He takes the deepest breath, closes his eyes and it isn’t Tess that comes to mind.

It’s you.

With his final strum of the guitar it felt like he was releasing himself from Tess. Free after so long and fighting so hard for their relationship. Free to bring his full attention to where his heart was calling him.

Finally the room erupts in applause and he feels the tiniest pang of relief wash over him and snaps him back to reality. He sneaks off the stage and makes his way towards the back. He needed to hold you and tell you how sorry he was and at this point he didn’t care who saw him.

Familiar faces and acquaintances slapped him on the back and boasted to him about how great he did and the gauntlet of drunken patrons slows him down significantly. When he manages to break away and gets eyes on where you were standing you are nowhere to be found.

A hand grabs his sleeve and he turns but his heart sinks when it’s Tess.

“Joel..” she whines through a shaky voice and pulls him to look at her.

He didn’t want to be cruel to her or disregard whatever feelings she was going through but he also didn’t feel obligated to her anymore. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like he was on her leash. He was done putting her first.

“Tess, not now.” His voice was low and gentle. He really did feel for her out of habit, but he also knew he couldn’t let her try to reconcile. Not yet, anyways. He was open and hopeful to remain friends with her, but she needed to get over him first. He knew her reaction would be anger until she had time to cool off.

“Really? After that you are going to ice me out? What the hell, Joel?” Her anger was increasing with every sound leaving her lips. The last thing he wanted was a blow up with her and he wasn’t going to let her control this narrative any longer.

“Stop it.” He unintentionally uses his size to intimidate her as he steps closer. Silencing her as the remaining empathy leaves his eyes. He was never confrontational with Tess, and this was something new that she did not expect or know how to react to.

A few nosy people nearby get quiet as they try to watch the drama unfold in front of them and pretend to be minding their own business. Joel takes a step back from Tess and furrows his brow.

“I told you. I’m moving on. We’re done now.” He says firmly and sharply points his finger towards her. The tears in her eyes almost make him soften, but he holds firm. “Done.” He reiterates through gritted teeth.

He hated being so cold, but he had to or else nothing would change.

Tess bites her lip and for the first time has no words. She was so used to being the boss and calling the shots and for the most part Joel let her. Not this time. She wipes the wetness that starts to fall from her eyes and walks off, angry and hurt.

“What are you looking at?” He snaps at the prying eyes watching him be a total asshole and then proceeds to walk towards the exit to continue his search. He was quickly running out of fucks to give by this point in the evening.

The bar was starting to clear out a little now that the live entertainment was done for the night. He doesn’t see you and starts to worry you left without allowing him a chance to explain himself.

Truthfully, he didn’t know what he was going to say, but he knew he needed to see you. To apologize at the minimum and beg you to hear him out. There was so much you didn’t know that he needed to tell you.

He collects his guitar, dons his jacket and makes his way outside. There is a gentle snow falling and a coating on the cars and walkway. Footprints heavily littering the path into the parking lot and fanning out. It would be a fool's errand to pick out your prints or your car under the blanket of winter.

He makes his way to his truck, and carelessly brushes off his windshield with his sleeve.

He pulls out his phone and calls you, but it goes unanswered and to your mailbox. He sends you a text.

Joel: Im so sorry baby

Joel: Please can we talk?

He leans on his truck, ignoring the cold and tries to call you again. And again. The relentless ringing is only silenced by the robotic voice of the generic voice mail operator.

After the 3rd call he left a message.

“Please answer the phone baby girl. I know I don’t deserve it, but I need to talk to you. Please.” His message was delivered with a low, calm tone, barely masking that he was afraid.

Afraid he lost you.

—

READER POV - Saturday Afternoon

Marlene dropped you off at the bar to pick up your car. No one was around this time of day and it felt surreal being back at the scene of the crime, so to speak. She gave you a hug and just nodded to you as you left. Urging you to believe you would be ok, and you had to move on.

When you got home you didn’t even dare look to see if Joel was home. You went inside, took a shower and wrapped up in a blanket to watch TV on your couch.

Whatever was on you didn’t really pay attention. Your mind was just filled with Joel. You wanted to wake up from this bad dream.

You had been vulnerable with him. You were ready to give yourself to him so quickly because you craved that intimacy only he could give. He worshipped your body and made you feel something you never felt before.

Was that enough? Surely not to a self respecting person. It makes you feel sick to be so hesitant to do the obviously right thing.

You so badly wanted him, and knew you couldn’t just let him treat you this way. You felt guilty about still wanting to give him a chance.

You finally gave in to looking at your phone.

You had 34 unread messages from Joel. 9 missed calls and 3 voicemails. You fought the urge to see what he had to say and instead gave notice to your other missed calls. Your mother. She had tried to call you 3 times. You had barely talked to her this past week and didn’t really want to but you also knew she would worry if you continued to ignore her. You were afraid she might also reach out to her precious neighbor too if you gave her any reason to panic. It didn’t take much with her.

You called your mom, lied that you were sick with the flu and that you just wanted to sleep. She didn’t make you talk long thankfully and she didn’t say anything about her handyman neighbor.

The night was getting late and you mustered up enough energy to move into your bedroom.

Seeing Joel’s flannel shirt laying at the foot of your bed hit you hard. You had been so happy and flirty just a few nights before and you wanted that back. It felt like it was taken from you unfairly.

You hugged the shirt to your chest and breathed in his masculine scent that still lingered. The scent that drove you wild with desire.

How were you going to get over this man who made you such a mess?

You tossed the shirt into your dirty clothes pile and got into bed, lamenting how cold and empty it was and wishing you were wrapped up in Joel’s navy blue sheets and stealing his heat. Feeling his heartbeat against your cheek as he holds you close. The ghost of his touch on your skin makes you tear up again.

Fuck you Joel Miller. You mumble out loud to yourself. It wasn’t fair.

You lay there for what felt like hours, your mind firing on all cylinders with no hope of slowing down.

Curiosity won in the end, and you opened up the text thread with Joel. You scanned it quickly and saw a recurring theme of him asking if you were ok, apologizing and worried that you were not home.

Joel: Please just tell me you are safe

Joel: I’ll leave you alone just let me know

Joel: Where are you?

Those were texts from the morning. After your car was back home and signs of life his messages were back to apologizing and what you can only imagine to be a descent of drunken texts from this evening.

Joel: I’m so sorry

Joel: We need to talk

Joel: Please n

Joel: I m fucknig srry

Joel: Just let m tel you and ill stpo

Joel: /

Joel: I ned to talk to you

You wanted to talk to him. You needed some clarity, but you also didn’t want to be tricked into forgiving him because of your body betraying your mind. There was a nagging you could not shake that his actions at the bar didn’t undo the way he made you feel. There had to be more to it or else it would be so easy to wash your hands of him and never turn back.

You started typing a reply and deleting until finally settling on just leaving him on read.

You listened to his first voicemail, and hearing the pain in his voice made your heart break more. He was worried about you and he sounded like he was doing his best to be composed, but you could see through it. That southern drawl makes you melt when you hear him call you baby girl.

You slammed your phone down and regretted giving in to his attempts. It only made it harder to be mad at him.

As you drifted off to sleep with tears leaving wet stripes on your cheeks you decided that tomorrow you would go see Joel. You would go in person and get a true gauge of where things stand. You would also try to do the right thing.

—

JOEL POV - Saturday Night

Midday and he was worried about you. Not only were you not answering him or reading his messages, but you also had not been home. Of course you were an adult and clearly could do whatever you wanted, but he felt entirely responsible for whatever you were up to.

He paced to his bedroom window, looking out through the blinds to see the same snow covered drive. Untouched. He was getting restless.

He flips through your messages and can’t help but look at the pics you sent him during your bedtime photoshoot.

He could feel himself harden and palmed himself through his denim to get some relief. It felt wrong, but he couldn’t control the way his body reacted to you. He unzips his jeans to let his cock breathe as he takes a seat in the living room.

Scrolling through the photos you sent and seeing more and more of your body made him swell. The pressure in his groin became too much to handle with a casual touch.

Fuck he mumbles under his breath.

He spreads his legs wider and slides a hand inside his boxers to stroke himself, imagining it was you and your gentle hands wrapped around his shaft.

The guilt of what he did weighed heavy on his mind but didn’t hinder him from getting aroused. He needed to have you again. Feel your tight pussy gripping him and listen to your sweet moans.

It eats away at him. It was wrong to get off to you especially after what he had done to you.

But it didn’t stop him.

His labored strokes quicken as he fucks into his fist and he comes with a stifled groan.

Sitting alone with his release dripping over his knuckles made him feel like a dirty old man. Getting off to a woman that didn’t want him anymore.

He woke later that evening, awkwardly slumped against the arm of his chair. The house was completely dark except for some embers from his wood stove about to give it’s last breath. He was groggy and sore. His neck ached from the awkward position.

After getting his wits about him, he opened his phone to see you still had not replied. He stumbled over to his window and to his relief your car was parked in the yard.

At least you were home. You were safe. Clearly you did not want to talk to him yet.

He wanders off to his kitchen to pour himself a stiff drink and downs it way too fast before taking a shower and drinking again and again.

As the whiskey clouds his mind and fills him with nothing but remorse for what he did, he sloppily sends you some desperate texts before passing out for the night.

—

READER POV - Sunday

The Sunday afternoon energy was heavy. You had been avoiding Joel in every possible way since Friday night. The exception being your moment of weakness and reading his texts. Instead you buried yourself in a book trying to focus your mind on another world with characters struggling with simpler problems.

The time spent alone had given you some peace to think about what your next move was going to be, but you were still battling with what to do.

If you were not so smitten with him it would be so easy to just walk away. You never questioned his character before and now it’s all you can do. Weighing the damage he did with what you had come to know about him before was not an easy task. It also made you question your own character. What kind of a person would it make you be to continue on with this? Maybe you battled with failed relationships all your life because you never found the one to balance who you really are. Maybe you are just hopelessly lusting over Joel Miller and telling yourself anything that can make it feel ok.

Your anger and hurt was stinging less and making you feel more numb than anything. Marlene’s words of advice were lingering in the front of your mind constantly. You felt guilty for entertaining the idea of talking to him and even more guilty for settling on actually doing it.

Looking out your front window you see his truck parked in his driveway. No fresh tire tracks and covered in snow. You had not seen any signs of life since you returned home other than some smoke from his chimney and a light or two.

The text messages from him did still trickle in at a slower pace, but you continued to ignore them. Wiping the notification off your lock screen.

Marlene also texted you periodically to check in and you assured her you were doing just fine and would be ok.

You made an impulsive decision to go over now before you changed your mind again, not sure what you were going to say or do, but you couldn’t ignore him forever. The more you thought about what your gameplan was the more you started to talk yourself out of it.

You freshened up in the bathroom, applying some light makeup to mask the bags under your eyes and hide the fact that you have been crying for days. You knew deep down you also just wanted to look really good for him. You wanted to spite him and make him want you but not let him have you as some sort of punishment. At least that is what you told yourself.

You bundled up in your boots and winter jacket. Wrapped a scarf around you and put on some mittens and a hat. Your hair falling loosely around your face. You looked cute but completely covered up.

The sun was just starting to set, but there was still plenty of light left to venture outside.

You wandered over to your mailbox and picked up the scent of burning wood. A smoky, campfire smell. It smelled inviting. You heard a chopping sound coming from the direction of Joel’s house and guessed he was outside working. Typical Joel behavior to be outdoors.

As you make your way to his house the campfire smell intensifies and you see some smoke coming from the side of his house. There is a footpath going from his driveway and you decide to follow it to the sound.

As you round the corner, the sight is enough to make you forgive all his wrongs.

Joel’s back was to you and his silhouette is bright and familiar. You could recognize his figure in a lineup with ease. Broad and commanding.

The frame of his body was muscular but not bulky. Toned from his manual labor lifestyle. His broad shoulders and tapered waist were perfectly illuminated by the burning fire next to him.

You see his jacket discarded on a pile of chopped wood and a small brush pile burning next to him, keeping him unnecessarily warm. It looked like he had more than enough body heat radiating off him. Uncomfortably toasty.

The area between his shoulder blades was damp and dark with sweat. The curls in his hair were an unruly mess, especially where they met the hot perspiration on his neck.

Seeing Joel in lumberjack mode unlocked something inside you that you didn’t even know existed. He was so primal in his ability to handle whatever task was at hand. Just as he had been when intimate with you. He could take you away and live off the grid someplace in the wilderness and you wouldn’t bat an eye. He was more than capable of taking care of all your needs.

You feel it deep inside you. That intense heat building that only Joel can make you feel. An arousal coiling up inside you and ready to burst out if given the chance.

He turns to place a section of wood in front of him and makes a grunt sound as he lifts it into place. No doubt it was heavy and judging by his pile, and the sweat on his body, he had been at this for a while. His outstretched arm had his flannel tightly choking his bicep as he moved to adjust the log in front of him. It was obscene to see his body flex and demonstrate his strength. The desire to have his arms on you in this moment and feel the full force of his body against you.

He picks up the axe and throttles it down again with a grunt, wood splintering in front of him as the force from his axe splits the wood into two.

He is nearly panting from the exertion, moving the split wood over to the pile only to repeat it all over again. He pulls his shirt up to wipe his brow. The hard ridges of his muscles taunt you as they shine in the light of the fire. As he wipes his sweat and pauses for the briefest moment to rest against his axe you decide to make your presence known before he realizes you are watching him.

“Hey Joel” you announce softly.

He is startled by you and turns quickly, letting his shirt fall back over his stomach. His expression softens when he meets your eyes. He tosses the axe next to him and pulls off his gloves as he steps towards you.

The heat of his body and his smoky scent hit you all at once as he stands just in front of you, unsure if he should touch you or not. He hesitates but you can see the desire in his eyes to touch you.

“Sweetheart, I’m–” he pauses, and rakes his hand through his hair. “I’m so glad to see you. Lord knows I don’t deserve it.” He gives a side smirk and his best attempt at looking innocent. It almost works.

He steps towards you but you reluctantly hold your hand up. He ignores it and pushes his chest into your palm. His innocence was replaced with cunning intentions. His damp and hot chest sending a wave of desire through you, making you even more wet. You were certain he could sense it too despite your attempts to act put together.

Before you can protest he has his hands on your waist. His fingers wrapping around you and positioned to pull you in close. His needy energy is not something you have seen before. Not like this. Assertive but stepping over a line you put out.

“Joel, stop.” You weakly protest and take a step back from him. His hands slide off your hip as you step away and you can see some panic in his eyes that he misread what this was.

He could clearly see how mixed you were feeling. He was letting his raw desire take the lead and hoped it would help sway you to give in to him and soften your resolve. Whether it was wrong or right, he knew that sexual tension you both had was not going silently.

He also knew that he cared about you more than just as a hookup. Truthfully you had made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a long time. He was so scared to lose you before he even got to properly have you. His fear was making him act stupid and desperate and he didn’t know how to reign it back. Especially with you being just within your reach. He was tailspinning.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He pauses. “I should have told you about her. It’s not what it looks like. I mean, it is complicated and–”

You swallow back your feelings and look him straight in the eyes. How much more cliche could he get?

“It’s too late for that now,” you countered, realizing that confronting this now was not something you were ready for after all.

Joel chewed his lip, wiping his hand on his chin as he fought back the urge to unleash some of his anger that he had been harboring. Anger he had towards himself that needed to escape. He was getting agitated.

He knew you were right, but he knew he couldn’t just let you go. He lets out a deep breath as he pinches between his brows, releasing a little tension as he exhales and composes his next words carefully.

“I want you to… need you to know I never did anything with her while I was with you.” His words come out desperate, pleading with you to understand. To forgive him even.

You weren’t sure if you believed that. You couldn’t exactly trust him anymore now that the trust had been broken.

“I swear it. There is a lot you don’t know about Tess and-”

Hearing her name on his lips is the last straw and it enrages you, reminding you that you are not here for second chances and apologies. You are here to tell him to leave you alone.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” You declare coldly and emotionless.

Joel stares, he looks like he wants to speak but he isn’t sure what to say. He isn’t sure he heard you right, or didn’t want to believe that he did.

You go to turn but he grabs your sleeve and holds you to face him.

“Please, I need to… don’t go.” He stumbles over his words, grabbing you harder than he meant to, desperate to make you stay.

“You hurt me.” The tears start to fall again as you speak your truth to him. You look him straight in the eyes so he can see your pain from what he did. There was no misreading your tears.

“I know. Never meant for you to get hurt. I can explain-” He panics, realizing you are leaving him and his chance is fleeting.

You struggle to pull your arm away but he isn’t listening and just brings you closer with his strength. He was blind to your obvious demands to stop. Clouded by his panic.

“I owe you an explanation. Let me-” His eyes penetrate into you, begging you to look at him.

“It's too late.” You cut him off. “Lose my number.” Your words bite.

You pull your arm away sharply and continue to walk away. You feel him staring at you and you swear he can hear your heart beating out of your chest. It took every ounce of restraint to hold firm with what you set out to do. You were not going to let him talk you into changing your mind.

With tears welling up in your eye you continue walking forward. You hear him begging you to stop and listen to him.

“Sweetheart, please.” he calls out after you. Pleading with you but you put more distance between him and his words as they get quieter.

Under his breath, Joel whispers “I’m sorry.” When your pace quickens and you don’t look back you swear you can hear him speak those words again and again, but you keep walking.

To be continued...

A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N S

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balrogballs · 1 day ago

Text

The Clean Break

a little take on Aragorn and Elrond’s final meeting, a removed scene from Cast in Stone (no context required; it’s canon compliant) that I liked too much to toss.

Aragorn was Estel when he broke his wrist, somewhere between five and six years old. It was a perfectly ordinary break, which happened for a perfectly ordinary reason: he had been running about on a wet floor, slipped, and crashed over a threshold. Elladan and Elrohir had come running at his wails, picked him up and took him to Elrond.

He remembers how Elrond explained to him that it was a clean break, and a very small one — it would stop hurting in a few days if he kept it still. The twins, those ardent connoisseurs of broken bones, had kept up a steady stream of joking patter to distract him whilst their father slowly applied a pain-relieving poultice and began to wrap up the wound.

Estel had been sobbing and sobbing, regardless of how mild the injury truly was. He was only five years old, and was more frightened than hurt, because he had never broken a bone in his life and he did not understand what everyone was doing, did not understand why his arm was being covered in white cloth, and it did hurt quite a lot, so he wailed.

And at some point in the process, he remembers looking up and realising that his father was crying too. Elrond hadn't made a sound, but his cheeks were awash in silent, indecipherable tears. Aragorn remembers how his expression didn't change at all, blank and beautiful in the white afternoon light: wrought from stone like a weeping statue, a quiet miracle, a promise of faith.

He remembers Elladan's tense, barked-out "Ada! What is it? What is wrong? You said it’s a clean break!"

And Aragorn remembers how Elrond had sat back on his heels and smiled, the motion pulling his features back into familiar lines. He remembers sitting silently, watching the last tears fall down the marble face, as Elrond said: "hush, my boy, you will scare Estel. Nothing is wrong, it is only a clean break. He will be fine tomorrow."

"Then why are you in tears?" Elrohir had asked, equally worried.

"Oh dear, am I? Aha, I am. Truly, it is only because he is," Elrond admitted sheepishly, sniffing. He had stroked a lock of hair back from Estel's face, laughing self-consciously, and his voice shook only a little. "I hate seeing him in pain. It breaks my heart seeing him cry so ceaselessly, even for such a small cause. It is only that, Elrohir, do not worry."

At the time, the twins had laughed, teased their father for his softness as they often did, made so many jokes about it that even little Estel, who didn't really understand the fuss and at the time had just probably assumed Elrond had a broken wrist too, was laughing alongside the three of them for absolutely no reason at all. It was casual, domestic, completely ordinary and commonplace as far as his childhood went: there were funnier incidents, sadder scenes, happier conversations.

But for some reason, this one is Aragorn's first real memory. The day he broke his wrist is the scaffolding he built his life atop, the day he looked at his father and found something sacred within him.

________

"I thought for a very long time," Aragorn says, on the tallest tower in Minas Tirith, their final meeting. "About what I could give you as a parting gift."

"If it is anything extravagant," Elrond warns him, raising a finger. "You know as well as I that I will take it to mean you are offering me a bride price, and I will take deep offence."

Aragorn grins, winks: "it's actually less than worthless, financially speaking" and cackles at how Elrond actually looks somehow more offended at that option.

"And what is this less than worthless thing you are donating to the one who raised you all your life?" he raises his eyebrows, a smile playing on his lips. "What castoff hand-me-down do you deign to bestow me with?”

"I know you must be weary of rings," Aragorn gestures at Vilya, winking away on Elrond's finger. "But perhaps this one may restore your faith in them."

"I am of a race that thinks nothing: jewels, lives, wars, is eternal," he continues, hair drifting over his face. "Of an old jewelry box my mother had, many trinkets were lost to time, some earrings were without a pair. And such loss of heirlooms never grieved us. After all, they were not ours to grieve."

"The oddest thing in the box was an old, battered golden ring. When I was first given the collection, I was only twenty yet already that ring was far too small for me. I thought that it belonged to a petite woman, perhaps a sister or a mother. Yet more recently, I was thinking of it and it confused me — why would a noblewoman own a cheap, plain ring? The other stones in the box were all precious, valuable, true heirlooms. When my mother died, she told me to pass them on to my children, and I will: but with this ring, I intend to disobey her."

"It was only some weeks ago, as Arwen showed me her own rings, that I realised something," said Aragorn, fishing around in his collar. "That this trinket I carry was no woman's ring, it was made to be worn by a child. You had given me one of these too, if you recall, as per tradition — on my sixth begetting day, a flat gold ring like this with my name carved into the inside. That was when I looked closer at this one, at the inscription on the inside of its hollow."

He unfastens the clasp on the chain, slips a small ring into Elrond's palm. He watches as all the blood leaves the elf's face only to be replaced by a harsh, terrible expression.

"Nothing is eternal, Ada," repeats Aragorn. "But some things should be."

"You are — you are giving me this?" Elrond's voice is strangled, eyes wide. "It —"

"I am. It is not mine to grieve."

Elrond does not say a word, does not even look at Aragorn, instead turning away and walking towards the far side of the balcony where he stood silently, ring clutched tightly in a shaking fist. Aragorn allows him to hold on to dignity.

Dignity, and a small, burnished gold ring.

It was rather battered, some of the plating rubbed off, a groove carved into it from all the times its owner tied it to a string and used it to tease cats with. It had a small dent in the frame, warping it slightly, and if you looked closely you could make out a little tooth mark, as though someone had a habit of gnawing at it. It was less valuable heirloom, more solid proof that the ancient king Elros Tar-Minyatur of Numenor, had once been a messy, careless little boy.

A few minutes pass, in which neither of them speak.

"I had nothing of him," Elrond tells him quietly after a while. "All my life, I had nothing of him at all. It had felt wrong, you see, sailing off to Numenor and demanding his possessions from his grieving children. So for five thousand years, I had nothing of him."

"But I never told you of him," Elrond's voice is searching, harsh and confused, trying to find a justification for the gift. "I had never told you of him, and yes, you had known of him from your lessons but I had tried so hard never to speak of him to you lest you, for one second, thought that I only loved you because you were the heir of Elros. You had no reason to know how I loved him, how fiercely I missed him, how I had nothing of him at all."

Elrond sounds almost angry, wrenching the words through gritted teeth like a scolding, his back still turned to Aragorn: "who made you so kind, Estel? Who made you so selfless — that you — that you give me this without ever being told — that you thought of it — who made you, boy?"

Elrond is breathing in deep, clarifying breaths and Aragorn stands there silently. He does not answer any of the fevered questions. It was Elrond, after all, who once told him over a chalkboard: stupid questions did not deserve answers.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Ada," says Aragorn at last, when only a sliver of sun is left behind in the sky. "Not for a moment. That is why I had… I had… that is why I had hoped we could have a clean break. I just didn't want to hurt you."

"I know you didn't," Elrond says, half-smiling as he turns back, composed again yet not entirely unruffled. "But I would rather it hurt in such a way, than it not hurt at all."

"Would you?"

"Of course," Elrond tells him, unconsciously running a finger across the flat, golden surface of the ring he had slid onto his smallest finger. "After all, the most treasured things in the world are only so valued because of how debilitatingly painful it would be to lose them."

Aragorn cannot speak. He has dawdled and delayed, pushed this parting to a cliff-edge, given gifts and made jokes, all the while waiting for a clean break that would never come for those who love like the two of them. He walks forward in a daze, and Elrond takes him into his arms and Aragorn is five again — building a life atop the scaffolding of the heart Elrond offered to him.

"I do not know what divinity made you this way," his father's voice is rough as he repeats his earlier question, but it does not break. "I do not know which of the Valar wielded the knife that carved you out of kindness. But I am glad, Estel, so glad that I know you."

Aragorn stays pressed in that embrace, shaking. He fights a sudden, absurd urge to laugh and roll his eyes, to say don't ask stupid questions, to say who made me kind? oh, I don't know, perhaps the one who loved me so wholly that he beheld a five year old's silly, childish tears, and wept that I shed them at all.

Still, he does not move: he does not want to see Elrond's face, does not want to see his own, not at this moment. Time passes, strains like molasses through linen, slowly and with great reluctance. At last, the king draws away and takes in this final image, the one who raised him standing before his son with an inscrutable expression on his face.

When he was younger, Aragorn used to think it might make it easier for his father to bend with the marred world if he learned how to be as cruel as it was, instead of taking each slap in the face as a surprise. But he understands now that whilst he wasn't looking, the marred world had bent itself to Elrond's gentleness; that it is a strength, an honest one, to be kind when the world not only abides by cruelty but insists upon it.

Aragorn cannot bring himself to turn and leave, wanting to brand Elrond’s face into the back of his eyelids with knife-hot tears. It is anything but a clean break.

“I cannot bring myself to turn,” he admits, the moonlight limning the silver in his hair. “Because when I turn, you'll be gone, and it will be the end of everything. Is this the end of everything now, Ada? Are we done now, you and I?"

Elrond smiles, looking at Aragorn in the same way he had always looked at him, every day since the moment he was put in his arms: eyes bright with unconditional adoration, unashamed pride, and a constant, total faith in him. He shakes his head.

"You and I will never be done,” he says softly; resolute. It is the only oath he ever makes.

#lord of the rings #elrond #aragorn #lotr #tolkien #lotr fic

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 24 hours ago

Text

(The Hobbit) Imagine: Holiday in Erebor

Author's Note: Hello! Here's a snippet of something cozy and cheery I wrote a few years ago and never got around to posting. You can decide who it is at the end that requests you sit beside them!

Additionally, I just wanted to say I wish everyone a Merry Christmas! For me, it's a time to be grateful for loved ones and of course, most of all, the real reason for the season!

Word Count: 708

Warnings: None

Description: You join the Company for a celebratory holiday feast!

Erebor had truly been a sight to behold when you first arrived. The halls were numerous and so vast. Everywhere you looked, there were displays of the dwarves’ handiwork and ingenuity. It was beautiful. You understood why the Company had gone to such great lengths to win it back from Smaug the Terrible.

Once the mountain was reclaimed, it became a home to the dwarves once more. You’d only heard stories about Erebor in the olden days when the halls were filled with bustling trade and friendly chatter. Night after night, your comrades told you of its wonders, but you’d never witnessed it for yourself.

You imagined that it was much like it is now, with the Company settled there and their relatives flooding in- so utterly warm and welcoming.

Especially this time of year. You walked down the dimly-lit hallway, the lovely scent of evergreen trees filling your nostrils as you passed lanterns that were decorated with the branches. The harsh winter weather had ushered in a season of cheer, and the entire kingdom was celebrating. Everywhere you went, there were woven banners of red and green, holly leaves adorning every dwarrowdam’s hair, and warm spiced beverages passed around. Feasts were always merry occasions, but more recently, they had become even more grand with special meats and desserts.

It was spectacular, and you felt so fortunate to have been invited to stay and enjoy it. You traveled with the Company at the request of Gandalf and became very close with the group, and when Erebor was reclaimed, you were offered a place there. Thorin stepped into his role as the rightful ruler, and Fili and Kili respectively as princes.

As pleased as you were to remain with the Company, there was one in particular that you were glad to be near. He had become the object of your affection over the course of the journey, and your feelings continued to grow as more time passed. The cheerful, cozy season made you wish you could have him as your own, with all the happy couples that you passed every day and dined with. The longing to have someone to kiss and huddle close to for warmth in the cold weather grew stronger each day

As you approached the dining hall, the chatter that had echoed down the passageway grew louder. Booming laughter, the clink of goblets, and jingle bells filled your ears.

You paused just before the doorway to smooth out your red and green gown and check your hair in the nearby reflective gold ornament. You couldn’t help but think of how beautiful you looked, and you hoped that he would think so too. With a deep breath, you stepped into the doorway. The hall was filled with long tables, but there was one table in particular you headed straight for.

It was the Company’s table, complete with specially-adorned seats for those who had made the hard journey to reclaim Erebor. Thorin sat at the head with Fili and Kili’s chairs on either side.

“There she is!” Bofur announced with a grand gesture and a wide grin. “Why, lass, we were just talking about you! Wonderin’ when you’d be joining us!”

“Here I am,” you laughed. Dwarves weren’t sticklers for punctuality, so no one took offense to your slightly late arrival. You were met with many smiles and boisterous greetings as you neared the table.

“Why, don’t you look lovely?” Balin complimented. He smiled kindly from his seat beside Fili. Dwalin was on his other side, chewing a large bite of roasted meat. “Absolutely lovely, my dear.”

“Thank you, Balin,” you said. “As always, it’s a pleasure to see you all. How is dinner?”

“Dinner is delicious,” Dwalin piped up after a loud swallow. “But don’t take my word for it, see for y’self.”

You smiled. “I definitely will. Everything looks fantastic.” You turned and headed toward the other end of the table where there was an empty chair. Before you had even taken two steps, Balin’s voice rose up.

“Wait, dear. There’s a seat for you up here. A certain someone has requested it.”

Heart thumping wildly in your chest, you halted and glanced over your shoulder to see who it was that made the request.

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ray935sworld · 1 day ago

Text

A kiss in the darkness

Beznaia

22.12 winter writing

content warning: masturbation

Everything on their trip seemed to be cursed. First Vale and Luca bailed out the academy winter trip. In their defense, Franci was pregnant and Luca definitely would not enjoy the trip when his 2 month old daughter was at home.

Franky had already booked a stay in Brazil to catch up with his family and his boyfriend had finally found the guts to join him. So Migno was out too.

And Cele had gone down with the flue only a few days prior, leaving Pecco and Bez to go alone.

And at first this had seem like a dream come true for Pecco. He would be able to spent a few days all alone with the man who he had a crush on since they were stupid teenager. No one to interrupt them. No one to call him out if he was staring to much. And most importantly - no one to distract Bez from spending time with him.

Then it dawned on him.

He would spent days ALONE with the man who he had a crush on since they were stupid teenager with no real other distraction.

He had been driving when the realization hit him fully. Marco was next to him, singing along to the mamma mia soundtrack. It was completly out if tone and objectively speaking, terrible. But when the older Italian turned to him and saw how his thick curls nodded along with the rhythm and how happy and relaxed he looked, he knew it was the most wonderful thing he ever heard.

He took a deep breath, knowing this could either be the worst or the best holiday ever. He was promising himself that he wouldn't be awkward and he wouldn't embaress himself.

Then he did excatly that.

With no one to interrupted them and no one else to focus on, he suddenly notice Bez behavior more. He noticed that he regularly looked at him. Like he was staring. But why would he?

Of course Pecco was staring too but only in a way that the other didn't notice. Or at least he thought so.

"Youre staring" Bez had said over dinner. He had looked up from his food, a playful smile on his cheeks. "You're always staring. Do I have something on my face?" he asked.

His hand was moving over his face. Over his beard, the side of his face and at the end even over his neck. For a second Pecco froze, he watched the tattooed hand touch Bez own skin and his brain went into shortcut.

"Am i that ugly that you always stare at me?" he asked and Pecco felt his cheeks heat up. For a moment he didn't realize that there was not just a playful tone. There was a little bit of hesitation bordering on insecurity.

"No!" he replied, maybe by the way the other raised his eyebrows a little bit too fast and too intense. But he couldn't stand the thought that he didn't saw himself as anything but beautiful.

"I... I mean, come on... You're pretty. Pretty ugly." he said and despite it being an absolute bad joke, for which he felt incredible bad, Bez laughed along. It was his rich, honest laugh, where there was no holding back. No hesitation.

"Yeah? Well maybe I just need some of yours to make me a pretty boy?"

And that was the moment Pecco was sure he had died.

For a moment he couldn't help but imagine Bez naked infront of him. Sweaty. Moaning. Marked by him. Taken apart by him. Covered in his cum. Some of yours? He had no idea what taht actually meant but his brain had already made up it's mind.

With that thought he felt his pants getting significantly tighter. He was getting hard but just in that one second he didn't care that he sat opposite his best friend with a hard cock.

"Some of my - what?" he asked, swallowing drily. He didn't know if he was pushing or what he was even trying to push for. Marco looked him up and down for a few seconds that felt like hours. He bit his lips. Then grinned.

"Some if your hair products of course. I bet you have the really fancy stuff!" Of course. Pecco wanted to knock his head against a wall. What had he been thinking?

"Yeah. Of course. I can give them to you. Everything you want, princess"

The last word just slipped out but for a moment he thought he had seen a faint blush on his cheeks. He wanted to dive in the feeling that a simple nickname had gotten a reaction like this, but he knew it was just delusional thinking, so he didn't entertain the thought much more

The next days went almost the same. Bez made stupid jokes that made Pecco think wrong things. Pecco felt like he was stumbling around Marco like an idiot.

His newest high was when Bez fell asleep on the couch, with his head against Pecco's shoulder while watching a movie. He had sat there calmly, without moving, even watching part of the next movie, until Marco wake up.

But instead of just going along with it, and acting friendly, maybe teasing him a bit, he had just started at him.

But now it came to a head when Bez suddenly burst into his room with nothing but a towel around his waist after they had spent the day skiing.

His hair was still wet. His curls still not yet flat and instead more waivy but already detangled. Small drops were falling down his strands. They dropped to the floor or - as Pecco spotted while following one of them - ran over Bez gorgeous body.

He couldn't help but look him up and down. His chest was defined. His muscles were ever present even during the winter holiday. And his arms - He wanted to do nothing more but to stand up, take Bez biceps and press him down on it.

Feel the muscles, knowing Bez could fight him off and probably win but in this particular moment he wouldn't. He would give in, letting Pecco win. He would let him press him down against the bed on which the older man was currently sitting. He would allow him to do whatever he wanted to his body.

And fuck -

That was when he spotted the silver bars that pierced through his nipples. Whatever thought he had was gone.

He wanted to lean down, put them in his mouth and suck. He wondered if they would actually taste metallic if he'd take them in his mouth.

"Pecco?" With that he was back into reality "Sorry-" he hurried to say. "Sorry, I - What did you say?" "I said my curl cream is empty. You got some?" "I... Curl cream? Yes. Wait-"

He stood up, refusing to turn around while he was rummaging through his bag, looking for needed tube. He blushed when his finger brushes the tube of lube that happened to be excatly next to it.

A part of him told him to just grab that one, give it to Bez and told him to get ready. Just to see how he would react. He wanted him to blush or to smile greedily. He wanted him to sit down and do excatly taht.

But either he would get laughed at - which he wouldn't be able to handle - or he would get it smashed against his face.

And he really didn't want to risk their friendship. After all that was all he seemed to get. And he was grateful for that. He was willing to take anything he got, hoarding it like a dragon and never letting it go.

Plus he would have to explain why the hell he had taken lube with him. On a ski trip. With his best friend. And he really had no interest to do so.

So he grabbed the curl cream and turned around. Only to find Bez, sitting on his bed.

He was sure that was the moment he had died. Again. Because his definetly naked crush was currently sitting on his bed. He was leaning back, arms stabilizing him, his head leaning against the wall.

Pecco stared and blushed when he saw Marcos eyes opening and winking at him. He was about to open his eyes. Maybe to say something inappropriate or stupid. Something that would ruin the moment gotr Pecco so he decided to end it on his own.

"Here" The former champion said as he handed Bez the hair product. "Thank you very much, my savior" he replied and left Pecco who definitely didn't got a small high out of being called a savior. Or Bez savior in particular.

Pecco was still standing there, slightly shell shocked. It was only when he heard the hair dryer that he was able to move again. He wasn't proud of the fact that this was his feist reaction after that but he had hold back to much. He couldn't deny it himself any longer.

And he felt safe enough, so he grabbed the other tube out his luggage and sat down on the bed. Exactly where Bez had sat a few minutes before.

His hands went down to his pants to open them quickly and pull his already hardening cock out his underwear. There was a flicker of guilt for what he was about to do but the vision of Bez, with his hot, naked ass right infront of had been too good.

He poured some of the liquid on his hand and closes his eyes. He started pumping a few times. It wasn't really for his own satisfaction or enjoyment. It felt more like an internal need he just had to obey and please.

And that was squeezing his own hard, leaking cock. Wrapping his hand around himself and imagining his own body heat was the heat that was surely radiating in Marcos mouth. He imagined the lube being Marcos saliva and he moaned at that thought.

He quickly bit his lips and pulled a face. He had to be silence even if the sensation of his hard cock, the heat that was pulling inside of him and the desperation in his body was too much for him.

He took a deep breath and run back his memories. Not just Bez a few minutes ago, but over the course of years. How beautiful he had looked on the top step of the podium. How gorgeous he had looked when they went to the beach together, sunbathing and playing volleyball. His smile when he ran to him to tell him he had signed a motogp contract.

He remembered him shirtless, sweet, sweaty, moaning after a race. He remembered him covered in champaign and wine and whatever else his team had poured over him which he had greedily taken.

Everything. He felt like he remembered everything. Every little smile and every little moment.

Then he came, right across his own hand. The hot liquid burning against his skin, a small reminder that his fantasy was nothing more than a vision his brain had come up to create satisfaction.

He refused to lose the afterglow so soon. So he just closed his eyes, trying to regain a normal breathing pattern. Soon he heard the sound of the hair dryer die down so he quickly got up to wash his hands in the kitchen.

He sighed. "What the hell were you thinking, Bagnaia?" he asked himself. Because if he thought he had already been awkward now was even worst.

It was one think to jerk off thinking about Bez when he was in his own home, where no one was around to judge him. But jerking off to his best friend while said best friend was just down the corridor was totally different.

He couldn't manage to look at Bez when he came back - this time dressed - to return the cream. He was grinning happily, his hands puffing up his hair.

"Looks good, doesn't it? You really got the good stuff" "Yeah, thanks" he said, while grinning awkwardly. He felt a mixture of shame at his own thoughts and actions. But he couldn't deny that he was happy that he could provide something good for Bez.

He felt Marcos gaze against him. He heard the fabric ruffles as he crossed his arms infront his chest, still looking at him. He didn't dare to return the glance. Not when he had just come for those eyes.

"You okay?" Bez asked, his voice daring and strong. Like he was saying 'I know you're not so don't lie to me'. Pecco swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. Totally." he even forced a smile "Everything fine. Why wouldn't it be?" "I don't know... You've been acting weird. Anyway..."

He turned around, shrugging and left.

Pecco used that moment to burry his head in his hands. He was fucked. He wasn't getting fucked. He was just fucked.

But at least he assumed that there was no way this whole situation could get anymore weird and awkward. That was until the evening came around.

He was already getting ready for bed when suddenly the lights went out and he was left in the dark. The whole room just went dark without any warning.

He blinked in confusion, trying to get used to the darkness.

He grabbed his phone - no signal - but the flashlight was still working. He illuminate the room with a reliefed smile. Just when he was about to look for a solution, he heard a loud scream.

"PECCO!" He knew the voice and he knew he hated the fact that he was screaming. "PECCO! FUUUCK! Shit. Shit. Shit. AH-!"

The combination of curses spiked his panic. He quickly ran to the door and pushed it open. He ran through the corridor where he heard Bez moving and still silently cursing.

"Marco? I'm here!" he yelled back, worried that he had fallen or hurt himself in the dark. Because as he saw, the whole house was dark.

He found him easily and quickly lowered the flashlight after accidentally holding it right in Bez face. He blinked and closed his eyes but the shiver of his whole body was evident that something wasn't right. And looking at the thick hoodie and socks he was wearing, it couldn't be the cold.

"Marco, is everything okay?" "I... The... The light has gone out." he replied, his voice slightly less confident than usual. There was a faint sound to it, he couldn't fully identify. His words were shacky.

"Yeah... I don't know. I guess the power went out." he took a look at the electric watch that was connected to the oven but it was dark. "Yep. We just have to wait till it returns. I'm sure it's normal." "Can't we call someone?"

Pecco saw how Bez started to move his hands. They were grabbing into his own hoodie, while his gaze was fixed on Pecco. He moved slightly closer. "I mean - There has to be a way, right?"

And now Pecco could identify the underlying sound. It was fear. He looked at his friend for a moment in confusion. He watches him shiver and move from one feet to the other.

"We're not getting a signal. And there's too much snow to drive. But it's just one night. We-" "But it's cold and... Forget it." this time it was him avoiding his gaze. It worried the older man.

"Hey, it's okay. What's going on? Marco, I'm your friend, you can trust me." he tried, hoping his voice was calm enough to actually have an effect.

He watched Marco seemingly contamplaiting, thinking it over, maybe considering his words. Then he replied with a quiet and stubborn sounding. "I don't like the darkness. Okay? I'm afraid of the dark. There. That's it. You can make fun of me if you want to"

He had this stubborn, defensive sound that he couldn't help but want to get rid of.

"What? No." he quickly said and couldn't help but pull him in a hug. "No I'm not gonna make fun of you for that. Everyone has a stupid fear over something. We... We'll figure it out, okay? Just... I think it's best if we just go to bed, alright? And in the morning everything will be easier."

Bez was still cuddle against him, nodding slightly. "But... I... I had my window open." he confessed. "And?" "My room is as cold as outside. I was... I turned the heating back on but without the power that won't work either."

And now he knew what he meant. Bez couldn't stay in a room that had -9° or something like that.

"Okay. Fuck it." Pecco decided. He didn't really think about his words. Instead he just spoke because he knew he wouldn't come up with another idea.

"We're gonna have a sleepover. Like when we were kids, okay? You're sleeping in my bed." "I... Are you sure?" "Ye-Yeah" he said, trying to push the horny thoughts away that Marco would actually be spending the night in his bed. At his side.

He managed to somehow keep his thoughts clean until it was actually time to climb in bed with his best friend. 'just like when we were kids' he thought to himself.

But back then he didn't even know that gay sex was even an option. He didn't know he could feel like this for Bez. He just pushed his ideas away, covering them as a stupid idea.

But now -

And back then Cele, Luca, Migno, Bulega, Franky - they had all been there. They had been a cuddle pile. There hadn't been anything even remotely sexually about it, even if you'd tried.

But now -

"If you don't want to, I can-" Bez started and was about to sit up again when Pecco quickly laid down next to him. He just slid under the covers because worst than being worried about how to act was just Marco leaving.

The first few seconds were awkward. He felt tense and unsure. Until he felt Bez move more towards him. He felt his hands against his frame, slightly pulling him more towards him.

"You know what?" he whispered. "This is actually pretty nice"

Pecco felt Bez head against his side and he couldn't help but extend his arm to give him some more physical contact. He tried to tell himself that this was just to give Bez more comfort.

He knew very well that Bez love language was touch and it would call him. Not to mention that it was a way to keep each other warm. But in reality he just wanted to use every chance he got to touch Marco and feel him close.

He scooped him up in his arms, holding him close. He knew they only did this to calm down, for this one night but he wished it was more. He wanted to feel him pressed against his body again and again.

He didn't want to lose to feeling of having him on top of him and sleeping, like this. He felt his regular breathing. He was sure he was asleep by now. All while he refused to fall asleep now. He didn't want to waste a second of feeling Bez close to him with sleep.

"I wish this wasn't a one time thing" he whispered into the darkness. "I wish we could spent every night and every day like this. I would hodk you close, protect you and treat you right. I promise you, I would do anything for you." "Mm... A kiss would be enough for now" he heard and froze in shock.

Bez moved and opened his eyes. He smiled at him.

"Bez, you're... You're awake?" he asked. "Yeah... So? Am I getting that kiss or not? I'm asking very nicely for it, Pecco.... Please" "You - you want -" "Yes I want a kiss. From you. Now. Preferably."

He blinked a few times. He wanted to make sure this wasn't a dream. But even if it was, he decided not to care. Instead he just used his chance to lean down and kissed him.

It was soft kiss. They kissed just for the sake of kissing. They kissed because they wanted to kiss. And they didn't want to stop.

They were locked away, locked inside this little house, somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Locked in the darkness and locked inside each other.

Both knew they were too tired and exhausted to actually do anything else so when they separated again to take a breath, Bez used the chance to kiss him again.

Just a quick peak on the lips and he grinned.

"Thank you... Hopefully I can stop teasing you now. I love you by the way." he whispered before he closed his eyes again, his head now laying completly on Pecco.

"I love you too" Pecco replied and planted another kiss on Marcos forehead. For a moment he was wondering if the other would remember their moment. But when he woke up from Marco softly nipping and kissing the skin at his throat, he was sure he did remember.

#you know what I give up #I would have had to write like 10k to actually write this in a way I like so have this #cause I dont have the time or the motication #Turtle anon I hope you like it anyway #pecco bagnaia #motogp #ray's writing #motogp rpf #marco bezzecchi #beznaia

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