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nakylvr · 3 days ago

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MISSED YOU (FINAL)

daniela avanzini x fem!reader

summary: dealing with the repercussions of your actions, you try your absolute best to fix everything.

warnings/tags: hurt/comfort(?), happy ending (yay!), dealer!dani au, language

wc: 3,5 k

part 1 | part 2

you woke up to knocking on the door. lifting your head from the bed, you immediately felt your head pounding with a headache, making you groan quietly as you got up and left the bedroom. walking to the front door, you peer through the peephole and let out a sigh of relief to see manon.

you unlock and open the door, being met with the taller woman who was holding a convenience store bag in her hand.

“did you sleep?” manon questions, taking notice of the dark bags under your eyes mixed with the tear stain marks on your cheeks.

“a little.” you shrug, opening the door wider and walking further inside.

“better than nothing,” manon replies, walking in and shutting the door behind her. she follows you to the living room, setting the bag down on the coffee table as you sit on the couch and curl up into a ball in the corner. “here,” she rummages through the bag before pulling out two cans. “i didn't know if you'd want the redbull or the coffee, so.” she holds both of them in front of you.

“thanks,” you mumble, taking the energy drink from her hand and opening it.

a silence fills the apartment again, one that lasts a while before you finally manage to speak up.

“i don't know how to fix this,” you say quietly, making manon look over at you. “i doubt she wants to see me right now, or ever again.” you look down at the drink in your hand, finger spinning around the rim of the can. “i should’ve listened to her, then none of this would've happened.”

“it's okay,” manon says. “i mean, it's not, obviously, but it’ll be fine. you can't say that she probably doesn't want to see you, because we both know that she always wants to see you. whenever you're not around you are literally the only thing she talks about, and with what you told me about your last conversation, she probably thinks sophia forced you to do it – which she did, so i don't think she's mad at you exactly. if she is, i’d be surprised.” she pauses for a moment. “you have to just do it. get her out, and then you can talk it out. you can figure the rest out as you go.”

“yeah,” you murmur, still looking at the can in your hands.

“yn,” manon grabs one of your hands making you finally look at her. “i’ve known dani for years, she isn't going to be mad at you. when i say you are the only person she talks about, i mean literally you are the only person she cares about. i’ve seen her go through girls so fast that when she started talking about you i felt bad. i thought ‘well, there's another poor girl to add to her list’. but she said you were different. so i tried to believe her. now, i’m going to be honest with you here, okay? because i love and care about both of you very much, and i want you two to fix this, okay?” she stops, waiting for you to nod before continuing. “dani has said multiple times to multiple girls that they're different. so when she said it about you my first reaction was how you were going to get hurt. but things started changing, dani started changing. and that has never happened. you know dani is a pretty independent person, and what she does has her that way because of shit that's happened in the past, but to see her changing – changing for the better? i knew she was right about you.”

“not one other girl has even been able to remotely change one thing about dani,” manon continues. “she always kept them at a distance, she never let them get too close. and the day she told me she took you with her to one of the deals? something that she never let anyone do? i knew she seriously loved you. when she said that you insisted on going with her, she told me that she hesitated. but not for the same reason it usually was. she wanted to protect you. she always wants to protect you, yn. but she lets you come with. she trusts you with the money. she trusts you with certain clients. she trusts you. she loves you. no one else. i don't know why she did what she did, but i know she regrets it. you are the best thing that's ever happened to her, and i don't want this to fuck it up for you two. i can't tell you what to do, but i will support whatever decision you make, okay?”

listening to everything manon said, you slowly nod your head while taking in all of it. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you could feel them threatening to spill, with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth to keep it from trembling. “i ju-st want to fix this,” your voice cracks as you speak. “i love her so much.”

“i know you do,” manon is quick to reply, scooting closer to you and wrapping her arms around your shaking frame. “and i know she loves you just as much. you just have to tell her. you have to talk this out, and you have to tell her about what happened last night.”

you physically tense up at her last words, the memories of the night before flooding your mind as you put your hands into fists to keep them from shaking so much. “i can't– she’ll really hate me then,” you reply, shaking your head.

“you have to, yn,” manon tells you. “i know you don't want to, but you have to.”

a few tears fall from your eyes, but you slowly nod your head, knowing it was the truth. it could make matters worse or it could improve them, but you had no idea how to even go about it. “can you– can you come with me to the sheriff's station? i already have the bail money in a bag, i-i just don't want to go alone right now,” you speak quietly, more tears trailing down your cheeks.

“of course,” manon replies with a nod. “has sophia tried reaching you?”

“there was texts and calls for the first couple of hours, but i think she gave up,” you answer with a shrug. “i read a few of them…” your voice goes quiet again.

“bad?” manon questions, judging by the tone in your voice when you said it.

“yeah.” you nod.

“ignore them,” manon tells you sternly. “you don't need to be seeing her lash out on you because of something terrible she did. you didn't do anything wrong, okay? you don't deserve any of what's happened to you in these months, and it's not your fault for going to the person you thought would keep you safe. but this means you have to fix things with dani. if all else fails, then you can stay with me for some time, okay? you’ll always have a place to stay with me.” she rubs your back reassuringly.

“okay,” you mumble, nodding again. “thank you again, i owe you for this.”

“no you don't.” manon shakes her head. “you're one of my best friends, i’d do anything to make sure you're okay.” she then pulls away from you, grabbing the can from you and setting it on the coffee table. “when does the sheriff's station open?”

“nine, i think,” you answer.

“we’ll go right when it opens, then,” she says. “get it done as fast as possible so that she doesn't have to stay in there too long. then you can talk things out. i’m sure you'll already be on her good side just by bailing her out after what you said when she was arrested, so you have a good starting point. get her something to eat, get some drinks, and talk it out here in the home you two have made. it’ll all be okay. i promise.”

“okay.”

…

one week later you were standing outside the jail, biting your nails with your foot tapping on the ground anxiously. thankfully, you had enough to cover the bail and have a little leftover, which was a relief knowing it didn’t take everything in the safe. you had yet to even speak to daniela, despite manon telling you to at least try and see if she would talk to you. you didn’t want to hear yelling over the phone, you’d rather hear it in person where you could explain everything easier than if you were arguing over the phone line that would cut after five minutes. manon told you over and over again that she wouldn’t be mad at you, but the nervous feeling was still rooted deep inside you as you heard the loud buzzing and the gate slowly opening.

looking up from the ground, you spot daniela walking with her bag of things. her eyes subtly widen a bit from what you can see, since they didn’t exactly tell her who bailed her out, just that she was able to leave.

she slowly steps over to you, stopping in front of you and looking at you without saying anything.

“hey,” you say quietly. “i’m really sor–”

you’re cut off from your apology by daniela kissing you. your eyes go wide for a second, but when her arms wrap around your waist you find yourself melting into the kiss, practically feeling all the emotions she was pouring out into it.

when she pulls away, you’re both a little breathless, quiet panting coming from you two.

“do you wanna get something to eat and head home?” you ask softly. “i’d rather talk at home.”

“yeah, we’ll talk at home,” daniela responds in the same voice.

“okay.” you nod.

…

by the time you two arrived at the apartment, it was already leading into the evening, the sunset coming down just as you opened the door and walked inside with bags of food and drinks in your hands.

walking behind you into the apartment, the first thing dani notices is how clean it is. she figured it’d be destroyed when they came to get her, only feeling worse when she realized it had to have been you that cleaned up the place. she follows you silently, setting the food down on the dining room table and going to sit on the couch next to you.

there’s a silence that fills the room. one that was far from comfortable. both of you sitting there not knowing what to say first, or to say anything at all. until you speak.

“i’m really sorry,” your voice is barely able to be heard as you fiddle with your hands. “i-i didn’t think– i didn’t mean for it to go down that way, i-”

“don’t apologize,” daniela cuts you off, shaking her head. “there’s no reason for you to be apologizing. i deserved it.” she goes quiet for a moment before continuing. “i’m really, really sorry. i shouldn’t have done what i did, and i know i fucked up. i’m not sure why i did it, but i regret it so much. i don’t know why you bailed me out, i thought the last time was really going to be the last time. but…i’m glad you did. i just want to talk it out.”

“i know, and that’s why i bailed you out,” you start. “listen, dani. i went to sophia to figure out what to do, and…it wasn’t a smart idea. i know you two already don’t like each other, but this could really make things worse for everyone. i– she convinced me to call the police even though i didn’t want to. i felt so bad once i saw how upset you were. i knew you knew you fucked up and was trying to do anything to make me stay a-and i ignored it. i-i thought it would make things easier but it made everything so m-much worse. everything just t-turned into a shit show a-and i didn’t know what to d-do.” you began stuttering over your words as a few tears fell from your eyes.

“hey, hey, it’s okay.” daniela is quick to wrap her arms around you and pull your head against her chest. “it’s okay, okay? i’m not mad at you for what you did. i deserved it. so please don’t beat yourself up over what you did, baby. i’m not upset at you.” she presses a gentle kiss on your head.

“there-there’s something else i h-have to tell you,” you manage to get out, your anxiety growing and your breathing getting heavier. “please don’t get mad when i tell you th-this.”

“nothing will make me mad, i promise,” dani responds. “what happened?”

clutching onto her shirt, your face is still pressing against her chest as you try to find the words to explain it. “i-i went to sophia’s after. y-you know she’s always had feelings f-for me, so i-i…i fucked up, dani.” you start fully sobbing into her chest at this point, which has her arms tightening around you both from you crying and what she was thinking you were going to say next. “i-i let her have her w-way with m-me b-b-but i hated it. it was t-terrible. sh-she didn’t care that i w-was uncomfortable, she di-didn’t stop even when i w-was crying. all i c-could think about was how y-you would never do that. i-it didn’t feel the same. sh-she didn’t care, she continued a-and i felt so bad after th-that i left immediately. i’m so sorry.”

once you finished your words through sobs, daniela pulled you closer to her onto her lap, her arms tight around you as you cried. there were hundreds of thoughts running through her head, but they were far from being mad at you. she wasn’t mad at you. she was livid at sophia. “it’s okay,” she tells you over and over. “i’m not mad at you, i swear. i’m not mad.” hearing your cries continue made daniela wonder just how much sophia put you through when she wasn’t around, and thinking it made her jaw clench, anger bubbling inside of her. “baby, look at me,” she says softly.

you slowly lift your head to look down at her, your eyes red and puffy with a few sniffles coming from you now and then.

“i’m not upset, okay?” she says, running her hand through your hair. “i understand, i do. which is why i’m not angry at you. i’m angry at sophia, okay? she should’ve known better than to try and do that, let alone continue when you were crying. you haven’t seen her since, have you?”

you immediately shake your head quickly. “no, no, i haven’t. she tried texting and calling but i just ignored them.”

“good.” daniela nods. “that means it’ll be a fun surprise for her when i show up at her front door.”

the way she says that has your eyebrows furrowed together. “what do you mean?”

“don’t worry about it, mi amor,” she says, pecking your lips. “let’s just say she won’t be a problem anymore.”

“as long as you don’t get arrested again, you can do what you want,” you tell her, hooking your arms around her neck.

“i won’t, i promise.” she smiles at you. “are we okay?” she asks after a moment.

it takes a minute for you to respond, but you nod your head in the end. “yeah, we’re okay.”

“i love you,” daniela says, looking you in the eye.

“i love you too,” you reply, leaning in and kissing her.

…

it was late into the night when daniela got up. but not for the same reason it had been the past few months. was she going to see someone? technically. was it sophia? yes. was she going to beat the living shit out of her? probably.

the latina carefully got out of the bed, unwrapping your arms around her and looking at the time on the digital clock. late enough. you shift around feeling her presence leave the bed, and you open your eyes to see her putting on a hoodie and her shoes.

“where are you going?” you mumble tiredly.

dani turns when she hears your voice, leaning down and pushing some of your hair out of your face. “i’m heading to sophia’s with manon and minji. don’t worry, i’ll text you once i’m there and when i’m on my way back.” she presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “i’ll bring you back something to eat if you’re awake when i’m leaving.”

you nod your head, murmuring out a quiet “okay”. this is what you missed. if you were too tired to go out to deals with her, she would always say this. that she’d text you when she was there, and that she would text you when she was leaving that everything was okay, even then she would send more messages than necessary. but, you didn’t mind it. she knew you often got worried when it came to certain clients, and she always reassured you when she would go alone. it hadn’t been like this in months. for the past few months you’ve woken up to her already gone, not bothering to tell you where she was going. for the first time through this hell that’s been these last few months, it was starting to feel normal again.

“be safe, please,” you say quietly.

“always,” she replies, kissing your head again.

walking out of the apartment, manon and minji were already waiting outside in front of minji’s car. the two turn when they hear footsteps coming towards them to see daniela walking towards them.

“is it bad to say i’m surprised you showed?” daniela says, stopping in front of the car.

“not really,” manon shakes her head.

“thanks, anyways then,” daniela looks between the two. “are you both sure you want to do this?”

“obviously,” manon says.

“i’ve never liked her anyways,” minji adds, crossing her arms over her chest.

“alright,” daniela nods. “let’s go then.”

…

it was three in the morning when you heard the front door open. you were partially awake after daniela told you where she was going, glancing at your phone occasionally when it would light up. it had been thirty minutes since dani told you she was on her way back. just when you were getting worried you heard the creaking of the front door opening, and the jingling of keys. you sit up on the bed a little bit when daniela walks into the bedroom with a bag of food and drinks in her hands.

“hey.” she smiles at you. “i got you some food and a milkshake from sonic. i’m sure you’re tired of it by now but it’s like, the only place open at this hour.”

“i don’t mind.” you shake your head. “thank you.”

“it’s no problem,” she says, sitting down next to you on the bed. “here.” she hands you one of the drinks and takes the food out.

sitting in silence while eating, you had a warm feeling radiating through your body. the type you hadn’t felt in months while everything was going on. the silence wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t tense. it was comfortable. it was normal, like it used to be.

“i really missed this,” you say randomly in a quiet voice. “i missed you.”

daniela looks over at you when you speak, seeing the small smile on your face that subconsciously makes a smile grow on her own face. “i missed this– i missed you, too,” she replies in the same voice.

when you look over at her, you can barely make out her face with the lamp on your nightstand, but staring into her eyes, you know she’s genuine about it. “promise me we won’t do this again,” you tell her.

“i promise,” she replies in a heartbeat. “you know why?”

“why?” you encourage her, curious as to what she’ll say.

“because i’m gonna marry you one day.”

your breath hitches in your throat at her words. in the two years you’ve been together, she’s never mentioned anything of the sorts revolving marriage or that kind of commitment. and after what manon told you, you weren’t sure she would ever even consider the thought. to say you were surprised would be an understatement.

“really?” your voice comes out in a whisper, as if you were doubting her words.

“really.” daniela nods. “i don’t want to be with anyone except you. i don’t want you to be with anyone except me. i know i fucked up right now, but i swear in the future i’ll give you the newlywed life you want. i swear.”

tears build in your eyes without your knowledge, so focused on her words that you didn’t even notice a few falling until dani’s hand reaches towards you and wipes them away with her thumb, her hand cupping your face. “you can’t go back on me now, y’know,” you say in a hushed voice. “you better stay.”

“i will,” she responds. “i will, i promise. i don’t want anyone else. i just want you.”

“then you’ll show me?” you say, your voice changing into a tone daniela was far too familiar with.

“oh, i’ll show you.” she leans in and kisses you.

#katseye x reader #katseye imagines #katseye scenarios #daniela avanzini x reader #daniela x reader #daniela imagine #daniela scenarios

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growth-opportunities · 3 days ago

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Even though we don't talk anymore, this is the picture I love to go back to when I think about my old friend group. It's just so thrilling to me, to think about what this picture used to show. We were all moderately busty when we met (I have my own theories about women of similar bust sizes becoming friends, but that's for another day.) Jenny, sitting next to me in the leopard print, was the biggest at an E cup and I was the smallest, though still sitting pretty with a pair of juicy C cup tits. We were all headed up to my parents' summer home for a few days to really break in the new swimming pool. It was meant to be a dream vacation with my best friends, girls who had been my best friend for a long, long time.

All it took was a few shots of Pink Whitney to turn it into a nightmare.

Okay, that's kind of an exaggeration. It was already a nightmare, I just didn't know. But alcohol helped loosen Allison (in the back, behind Jenny)'s lips. As soon as she mentioned Joe, my boyfriend, I knew something was up. A few more shots and a screaming match later, it all came tumbling out. Turns out Joe had been cheating on me with Jenny for a few months now. Allison and Shannon knew about it but they were all keeping it a secret from me. It broke my heart, of course, but it really twisted the knife when she started talking about how her boobs meant she could steal any guy she wanted and that Joe deserved someone better than someone 'small' like me. Needless to say, I kicked them out and made them find their own way home. I had never been more furious in my entire life. Just the betrayal of it all, from people that, just days before, I felt like I could trust with my life.

I still had a few days at the vacation home, so I continued to drink all by myself, threw myself a nice little pity party. And, in a moment of impulsiveness, I may have kind of turned to magic. The others had always teased me for my interest in the occult, so I thought what better way to get back at them. And if they were all fine with stealing my boyfriend, then I had no qualms stealing something back from them. And what better than the things that Jenny thought made her so fucking superior. I threw together the stuff that I needed (though admittedly, it was a little janky to use my mom's scented candles for the ritual) and called upon the Powers Beyond to help me. Turns out, the Powers Beyond respond really well to revenge. Not only did I steal almost all of their tits, but they rewrote reality so that I always had tits that big and they were always that small.

It was unbelievably arousing to look down and see my tits swelling, watching my bikini top shift as reality adapted to my new size. Feeling their growing weight, watching as they swelled larger and larger, spilling out of the top until reality gave me a new one... I can see why people keep going back to make deals with otherworldly powers. I thought the picture of us together and happy, just before my world shattered, would always be a painful reminder, but now it's proof of my revenge. I doubt Joe is with Jenny still, in this reality, but I couldn't give a shit about them anymore. Their tits have made me absolutely enormous and I can't wait to see what life is like at this enormous size.

#breast expansion #breast growth #breast obsession #breast envy #attribute theft #size greed #TW cheating #CW cheating #It's kinda like Back to the Future #But sexy

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cuteandhughesy · 1 day ago

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Love Looks Pretty On You | Jonathan Kovacevic

summary: dating one of the members of the new jersey devils roster was frowned upon, and breaching that rule could result in the loss of your job—however, when johnathan kovacevic comes into the picture, the rules seem to fade away

15.5k

a/n: based off this lovely request! this is a player i’ve never written before, and before this request I wasn’t too familiar with (just his name and the team he plays for) so i’m so happy to have learned and now share! but i’m actually really happy with this, so I hope you love.

───────── ౨�� ─────────

part1: job of your dreams

you toy with the long stick of liquid eyeliner, biting the most sensitive part of your inner lip as you contemplate your next move. your eyes dart back to your own reflection, examining your usual makeup look that you'd just finished. is winged liner too much?

today is the first day of your new—dream—job. a job which before jessica campbell paved the way to woman leading jobs in the nhl, you never imagined you'd achieve...but here you are—in your bathroom, minus 1 hour until you needed to show your face at prudential center and contemplating if you wanted to add a small black wing on your eyelid.

you want to come off sophisticated and put together, and you can't decide if liner is the perfect way to showcase that...or the complete opposite. you look down to the drugstore branded stick, and with a rough sigh, you slot it back in your drawer—nestled between other coloured pencils you're always hesitant in using and a stack of blotting sheets you always forget to grab before heading out.

you leave your warm bathroom without another glance at the mess of makeup left on your bathroom counter, hastily making your way through the hallway and towards the kitchen—you still need to get your coffee ready. the sound of your feet padding along the hardwood has you cat, hazelnut, chirping sweetly, jumping off the back of the couch in favour of weaving through your legs.

you almost trip, and you curse gently. "hazy, baby, please—i'm nervous enough already? the last thing I need is to fall and break my nose beforehand."

she blinks her wide green eyes at you, and obviously that's as much as an answer you're going to get out of your sweet kitty. you sigh, carefully walking around her and to the previously brewed coffee pot. to keep with the professional vibe you're hoping to give off, you opt for a sleek black travel tumbler, filling it dangerously high with decaf—although the chances of you leaving it in your cup holder is so high, you could've chose a rangers branded tumbler and it wouldn't of really mattered.

you fasten the lid, turning and meeting the eyes of hazelnut—who's now sitting comfortably on your kitchen island, her striped tail wagging happily. you give your cat a nervous, closed lip smile. "wish me luck!"

and in some twisted way like your cat can understand you, she meows once, a slow blink of her eyes following. it has the nerves bubbling in your stomach settling down ever so slightly, and you finally feel like you can drag yourself out the house.

just before you open the door, you double back and speed walk back into your mess of a bathroom, pulling the top drawer back open and grabbing not only your blotting sheets, but the eyeliner as well—throwing them both into your purse.

the drive to the arena was filled with your own personal ferris wheel of nervous anticipation and self deprecation—accompanied by your cheesy pop playlist full of tate mcrae, the wicked broadway soundtrack, and everything in between. you're so focused on not only the road ahead, but with the thoughts of how you'll make the best impression on the men that you'll be helping coach.

the professional hockey players that you'll be coaching. it's so surreal, and just as exciting—so much so that you're not even positive it's completely sunk in, despite the butterflies in your stomach reminding you every single minute.

by the time you pull into the parking lot, you're only just realizing you left too early—the practically empty parking lot and time on your dashboard undeniable evidence as such. you turn off your engine, unbuckling your seatbelt with a deep breath. you fall back into your seat, attempting to get a grip on your sweaty limbs and racing heart.

"fuck it." you chime, digging through your purse while simultaneously flipping your visior down—the mirror lights shining in your face. you grab the eyeliner, and with another sigh, you begin lining your lashes, creating the smallest wing. you pull back, and surprisingly enough it looks really good—good choice, you think to yourself.

"okay," you smile, "now just the other side." talking to yourself has always been your favourite pass time, as clinically insane as that may seem. there's no friend—or critique—like yourself, and sometimes you needed you to tell yourself things—like the choice to bring your eyeliner for example...smart.

you drop the felt tip to the middle of your lid, and slowly begin dragging it outwards. you're pretty sure your tongue is poking out as a concentration method, and you can only hope none of your new team members are around to see the way your face is contorted.

a soccer ball smacks against your window, making you jump. the tip of your eyeliner follows the line of your face, a thick black line going all the way back to your hairline. "shit!"

shocked, and still flustered from the sudden scare you whip around to look through the driver's window in an attempt to see what the fuck just occurred. a battered soccer ball rolls away from your tires, back in the direction it came from. your eyes follow the pattern, slowly trailing the line until you're landing upon...oh it's a man.

a man who is jogging towards your car with a sheepish expression on his face. you open your door and quickly get out of the car just as the man stops in front of you—his guilty expression not yet letting up.

he's actually quite handsome, you think. beautiful tawny skin with a hint of dark stubble lining his sharp jaw and chin. he's also tall, like intimidatingly so—it has you feeling tiny in comparison.

"i'm so sorry," he starts, voice gravelly in a way that has your stomach swooping. "soccer has never been my sport of choice...for obvious reasons." the man gestures between the now still soccer ball and your open car door, a small, but hesitant grin taking over his face.

if you were angry before, you're not anymore—any remarks dying on your tongue at the sight of the attractive man in front of you. you clear your throat twice, blinking to regain focus—this is the last thing you needed to be thinking about on a day as big as this one. you're not sure exactly what to say, but you know the words that leave your mouth next aren't the right ones. "yeah, soccer sucks."

his eyes twinkle with amusement, his grin growing slightly. behind you, a small brunette with killer curves and a phone in her hands calls for him. "johnny, can you at least throw the ball back! i'm missing prime content—wait, luke come back!" the girl in question attempts getting luke hughes, an nhl player you're well familiar with, to participate in whatever video she's filming—clearly one that involves the soccer ball between you and johnny.

he picks up the ball before tossing it back in her direction, which another player who looks like dougie hamilton catches. johnny turns back to you, eyes following the black line on your face. "you've got makeup..." he trails off, gesturing to the area on his own face.

you gasp slightly, memories of only moments ago when you'd totally not only messed up your eyeliner, but your face makeup. "fuck," you curse hurriedly, darting back into your car and pulling the mirror as close to yourself as it can go. you're in an awkward position, half in your car while your ass juts out.

johnny clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he attempt to draw his eyes away from your backside—your ass and thighs that are perfectly hugged by the heather gray slacks you're wearing.

you lick your thumb, swiping the liner—but it only makes more of a mess. "double fuck." you pull yourself out of your car, turning back to the 6"5 god behind you. he's blushing now, eyes not quite meeting yours as he attempts to calm himself down—johnathan doesn't think he's ever been this turned on from dress pants in his life.

"do you have a napkin? or maybe some tissue?" you ask him, seemingly unaware of the tension in his shoulders and flickering gaze.

slowly, he shakes his head. "no, I don't, i'm sorry." his face falls as yours does. he hates the way your clear disappointment makes him feel...fuzzy. johnathan steps closer, his mouth opening as he tries to finds his wording. "but, I can help...If you want. ill just use the sleeve of my sweater, I can wet it and clean you up..." his eyes twinkle, an awkward chuckle leaving him. "you can even lick the sweater if you prefer."

you look up at him with what you can only describe as a combination of amusement and disbelief. johnny has already pulled his black sweatshirt over his fist, closing the distance between you with one large step. "you can lick it, I don't mind."

he's kind of relived that you don't want to lube up his sweater with your spit, because then johnathan would be really turned on. he nods, wetting the edge of his sweater before bringing it up to the side of your face, gently wiping away the mess of eyeliner smudged along there.

despite how odd this whole interaction is, you can't help but feel rather enamoured with the mystery man—a man who obviously plays for the new jersey devils, or at least works for them. but based on his stature and the size of his quads peeking out from his athletic shorts—you're thinking it's the former.

his eyes are filled with nothing but concentration as he wipes away the makeup off your skin, his sweater soft against the side of your face as he works. you watch as his tongue pokes out the corner of his lips as he focuses, and that has a smile blossoming on your face.

"okay," he begins quietly, using the other side of his sleeve to dry your skin. "you might want to double check that, but I got it all off—well, my sweater did." johnathan laughs that awkward rumble again, and you can't help the way it makes your heart leap.

so much for being professional.

"thanks." you hum, smile growing. "i'm y/n."

he breathes in something that feels like relief, shoulders dropping slightly as the tension he'd been feeling earlier begins dispersing. "johnathan."

your brows pull in confusion, but your grin stays. "that girl called you johnny, is that what you prefer I call you?"

"you can call me anything you want." the words slip from his tongue before he can think them through, and johnathan hates the way his cheeks flush at his own words—but he loves the way your cheeks do.

"okay," you hum, turning to grab your purse from the passenger seat of the car. you take a glance in your visior mirror, and surprisingly he did a really good job at fixing your makeup—the wing is a little wonky but all the men you'll soon be surrounded with won't notice...you hope. you stand up straight, shutting the car door with an echoing thump.

the parking lot has begun filling up, various hockey players and team members making their way inside—most participating in the game the admin girl had set up by the entrance.

"i'll call you johnny then." you hum lowly, adjusting your purse on your shoulder as you begin making your way towards the entrance doors—heels clicking the pavement as you do. considering you're actively meeting and speaking to one of the guys you'll be coaching, slapping on the faux confident personality came as second nature.

it's not that you weren't confident in your job ability to coach these professional athletes—you were more than prepared and qualified for such. but, you've never been super confident in your personal life, especially when it has to do with attractive men who you really shouldn't be forming an attraction for.

regardless, you glance over you shoulder—eyeing his frozen stature and slightly agape mouth accompanied with an amused, flushed expression. "you coming, johnny?"

your question seems to snap him out of whatever daze he'd been trapped in, blinking three times quick as he begins moving, catching up to you with two strides—honestly, screw tall men with their long limbs! or maybe you just want to actually screw them...you can't decipher that right now.

much to johnathan's dismay, as soon as you enter the building, you are swept away by a member of staff, leaving him to stand awkwardly by himself for a fleeting moment until he realizes what the fuck he's doing. before the devils on ice practice today, they'd all been called in early for what keefe and fitzgerald described as an 'introductory meeting'—whatever that means.

it's not long until he's walking through the threshold of the large room, finding most of his teammates and various members of staff already in there. some sitting and chatting, while others haven't yet taken a seat, but instead stand beside the long rectangle tables as they discuss whatever they might be discussing.

johnathan takes his seat beside brett pesce and curtis lazar, greeting his teammates with a closed lipped smile and quick nod, stretching his long legs out underneath the table. they make small talk as the rest of the team filters into the room, following suit and finding various spots throughout the room to take their seats.

it's not 10 minutes later that the head coach and general manager of the team join them—smiling politely as they come to a stop at the front of the meeting room. fitzgerald clears his throat, and although the room has begun quieting down at the authority figures presence, it completely silenced as he begins to speak. "thank you all for coming so early, we appreciate your time for such a special meeting."

special? johnathan thinks, frown tugging at his lips. what's so special about this meeting?

the GM continues, an easy expression on his sunkissed face. "as you know, we've been looking for a new fit for our open assistant coaching position behind the bench. sheldon and I wanted to make sure that this person was not only qualified, but was fun, exciting and above all knowledgeable...." he trails off, smile growing. "with that being said, id like to introduce you to our newest member of staff: assistant coach, y/n y/l/n."

it's then that johnathan notices you—you and your ridiculously faltering pants and sexy eyeliner. he swallows nervously, eyes darting around the room like he's done something wrong. he hasn't, so he's not sure by it feels that way. he should've known that you and your new, pretty face had something to do with the introduction meeting sprung on the team.

beside him, brett snickers. "how are we supposed to focus with that talking to us?" his words are hushed and slow, brett's eyes never once leaving your figure as you begin introducing yourself to the room.

that comment makes johnathan feel the upmost angry, and suddenly he feels very inclined to punch his defensive teammate in the jaw. but, he thankfully doesn't. what he does do though is narrow his gaze, shrugging his shoulders roughly. "learn."

johnathan doesn't wait for brett's reply before turning his attention towards you, catching the tail end of your introduction. he kind of feels like a sleaze anytime his eyes wander over your body, studying the curve of your hips and the round, full display of your breasts under your high necked cotton top. it also doesn't help that he knows what your ass looks like bent over, or how he knows that you smell like peaches doused in brown sugar—that he knows how your skin feels underneath his spit covered hoodie.

a low groan rumbles in johnathan’s chest—thankfully it’s not loud enough to draw the attention of any close teammates, because he really doesn’t want to explain that. subtly, he adjusts in his seat, palming his semi-hard bulge as if he's trying to tell his dick to cut it out. you're acting like such a douche, he thinks.

you stand on the other side of sheldon keefe, half listening as he goes over some minor details before the start of ice practice. you can't help the way your eyes wonder, analyzing the new faces of various players you'll soon be coaching. jack hughes, who looks tired and like he'd rather be anywhere else this morning. then there's curtis lazar, who is the complete opposite of the middle hughes brother—eyes wide and alert as he nods along to his head coach.

then like a magnetic pull, your eyes find johnathan's—or rather, johnny. he's not looking at sheldon like his table partners, but instead his gaze lingers on you. immediately you feel warm, interlocking eyes and not wanting to look away. the faintest smile pulls at the corners of his mouth, so faint that you're not sure if it's happening or if you're imagining it.

he's stupid hot. like so hot your entire body is on fire. it's dangerous and wrong—it's tempting. not only is he easy on the eyes, but he seems sweet and slightly awkward. which is the perfect combination to have you falling. subtly, you raise an eyebrow at him in silent question.

johnathan blinks, looking away from you. just before you can feel embarrassed about the situation or feel like you read him wrong, a more prominent smile pulls at his lips, eyes flickering back to yours in a fleeting moment.

you're in trouble.

for the entire time you're on the ice, even when you're going through drills and giving words of encouragement as well as discipline, you can't help but find johnathan through the sea of various faces staring at you.

it's truly like a magnetic force, and your body feels drawn to his—even though you've barley talked to the guy. you know interpersonal relationships with the athletes is frowned upon, especially when you're in a coaching position. the hiring staff made sure you were well aware of that before you were hired.

to which you told them it wouldn't be a problem—but now here you are, watching the sweat trickle down johnathan kovacevic's neck as he catches his breath with some other players next to you. and you're almost annoyed at yourself, because you really like this job, and the guys are all so welcoming and kind—well, to your face at least, and that's honestly all you can ask for.

you don't want to risk your dream job for some silly little heat of the moment crush—you can't. but as you get home a few hours and a tour of the arena later, snuggled on the couch with hazelnut beside you and a slice of cold leftover pizza in your hand—you're googling him. you dive into articles and video interviews that when he speaks in them, your belly twirls around in excitement.

but you know you're fucked when you start scrolling through his google pictures, mentally taking note of which ones are your favourites. your cat keeps giving you looks, like she knows you're doing something you shouldn't be.

but you just can't help it—stupid magnetic pull.

the next day comes with a little less stress, and a lot more excitement. you go through your morning routine with steady hands, and a content smile. todays schedule looks a little different than yesterdays, as today you'll actually be put to the test—coaching alongside keefe, colliton, and mcgill during a game.

you head to your local gym before lunch to get in a workout—hopefully burning all lingering nervous thoughts and energy out of your system. after a few hours out of the house, you make your way back home, feeding hazelnut some blueberry salmon treats before hopping into the shower.

as you dress yourself for the game, you don't contemplate anything—you know the exact outfit and makeup style you want and unlike yesterday you're leaving the black eyeliner behind. you're taking the mess up yesterday as a sign, and that you're better off looking professional without the black wing lining your eye. but then again, it's the reason you met johnathan—which, yeah you can't stop thinking about him.

but you can't start thinking about how you can't stop thinking about him or you'll spiral into a panic—which isn't ideal—so you're avoiding that itch in your brain for now. you make sure hazelnut has an appropriate portion of biscuits and water before heading out, driving to the arena.

it goes by in a bit of a blur, with various interviews and introductions that you needed to complete as the new assistant coach of the new jersey devils—which is still so surreal, and the cameras, athletes and smell of the ice rink is even more. soon enough the lights are dimming, and the beginning chords of the national anthem begin.

you try your best to stay straight faced and forward, but keeping your eyes from wandering is something you have no control over. the stands are packed, which is an electric feeling—but even with the buzz of the crowd and the various athletes in front of you, there's only one face you're seeking out.

your gaze lands on him, trailing over the number 8 on the side of his jersey and the tail end of his last name on the back. johnathan looks really good in red, you think—it complements his tan skin and dark hair almost perfectly. speaking of his hair, the curly locks are in a disarray, wet from the water he'd poured on his head during warmups, and frizzy from the towel he ran over his head afterwards.

he takes a deep breath, his cheeks puffing out as he exhales. johnathan shakes his limbs out before resting his chin on the end of his hockey stick. like he can feel your stare, his eyes flicker towards you, and your heart almost stops as your eyes lock.

he squints almost playfully, the smallest grin on his face as the anthem comes to a close. you blush, the overhead lights flickering back to life as the first period begins. johnathan fully turns in your direction, but his eyes find one of the trainers—calling for a fresh set of gloves.

the sleeves of his jersey are rolled up just enough for you to ogle his arms—veins under damp skin that look so tempting…you want to run your tongue along them. your breath hitches just as he catches the new gloves, eyes landing on you once more.

johnathan was well aware of your wandering eyes, not matter how subtle they were. it has him feeling giddy in the best way, and just before he takes his seat, he winks at you—so fast and soft that he's not even sure you've seen it.

but you did, and you force yourself to look away before you get caught. fuck the risk, you need him.

part2: wandering eyes and fluttering hearts

it's seems that the universe has plans for you and johnathan kovacevic—you can't tell if they’re positive or negative yet...but you know it's got something up its sleeve.

not only do you have to fight your urges to pounce on johnathan during work hours—like meetings, practices and games—but it also seems like you're running into him everywhere, and your desires for him are growing stronger every time you spot him out and about. whether he's letting his hand brush against your lower back as a playful greeting in the frozen isle of the grocery store, or seeing you in the lineup of a cafe and tapping his card before you have the chance to pay for yourself—none of it is helping.

johnathan is ridiculously kind, and an even better listener—you've learned such in the now two months you've been with the devils. where as some of the players aren't always friendly, and snap in frustration at you (even if they're not mad at you specifically), johnny was different. it's safe to say you've developed an embarrassing crush on a man who is technically below you on the professional scale. you know it's wrong, and you know you're his superior, but you can't help the way you feel—despite the ethics of it all.

and johnathan doesn't care either—he's been nonstop thinking about you since your wild, makeup smudged eyes met his through your cars window. everything about you is tempting and exhilarating, and he's not sure how much longer he'll be able to keep his hands to himself. the way you seem to look at him with a certain twinkle in your eye, and blush anytime he comes in close to ask you a question, isn't doing him any favours—it seems like most days end now with his large hand wrapped around his throbbing cock, stroking himself to relive the tension you bring him.

the best tension imaginable.

he's not sure what the rules are when it comes to interpersonal relationships within the nhl, but johnathan doesn't care because he'd be willing to never even look at a hockey puck again if it meant he got to kiss your lips even once—he's down bad.

just before your third month of employment with the devils, johnathan cracks. it's late at night, too late for him to still be awake when an early morning practice awaits him—but he can't find himself to sleep yet, not with thoughts of you running through his head.

the bottom of his phone rests against his bare chest as he thumbs through his list of contacts like he's on autopilot. johnathan pauses as he reaches your name, thumb halting on the gray contact icon. just the thought of your pretty lips framing your smile has his dick twitching in his pyjamas pants. johnathan sighs.

all the players had the coaching staffs numbers, so it's not like it was only johnathan who obtained your contact —so reaching out would be that crazy, right? he groans to himself, running his free hand through his tousled dark hair. johnathan only contemplates for a moment longer before opening a text thread. "fuck it."

he readjusts the cellphone in his hands, typing out a message. 'are you awake?'

johnathan clicks his tongue, deleting it before he can hit send. he shouldn't be giving into his temptation like this, especially as an athlete who practices control. it's too late, and probably too risky. he drops his phone to his chest, letting his eyes flicker shut—trying to calm his instincts.

his phone buzzes.

'hey' it's your number staring back at him—and he knows that because he's been memorizing the seven digits for the 25 minutes he's been contemplating texting you. but here you are, lighting up his lock screen with your simple greeting.

across the city, you lay in your own bed—too hot and too awake to focus on anything other than your phone. you gnaw your lip as you await for a reply—if johnathan is even awake to see it. you know there's a morning practice, and the chances of him even noticing your message tonight is slim. just as you plan on turning off your phone, it vibrates with an incoming message.

'is this a you up text?' you can practically hear his rumbly voice through his text, a smirk pulling at his tempting mouth.

you breathe a laugh—one that is tinged with nerves. you were risking a lot by sending that that message, and you're well aware of how much shit you could get in—but what's so wrong about a hello? your skin has been on fire for weeks at the mere thought of johnathan, and you're finally willing to do something about it. no matter what.

you quickly send a reply. 'is that what you're hoping for?'

johnathan re-reads your message three times, and each time his blush deepens, travelling down his taunt chest. 'not telling' he sends back, and before you have a chance to reply, he types another message. 'I was about to text you.'

you gulp gently, a million questions plaguing your mind. 'oh yeah? about what?'

at this point, johnathan knows he's in too deep to start acting coy and secretive now—there's no point of pretending he doesn't want you, no scratch that, need you. 'about having dinner thursday night. my place.' it was the perfect opportunity to spend time with you—thursday night had no games and no weird evening practice or meetings. it was free. for both of you.

you and johnathan both know having dinner somewhere out in jersey was too risky, because anybody could see you and put two and two together. the chances of getting caught by fans or teammates is too high. so him suggesting dinner at his place was making your belly spin—even though it was seemingly the bare minimum (but let's face it ladies, what man even gives the bare minimum anymore).

'if I say yes, can we order in ramen?' you tag a playful emoji on the end to showcase some playfulness. your eyes don't leave the bubbles that move along the bottom of your screen, a soft grin on your face as you wait.

'i'll order anything you want, y/n.'

it's two antagonizing days of anticipation, both you and johnathan doing your absolute best at acting as nonchalant as possible—pretending like you haven't been sending flirty texts and borderline risky snapchats to one another (an app that you both had to download because you're both acting like horny teenagers) for the last two days.

when thursday comes, you're practically buzzing with excitement. after a meeting in the late morning, you get home and take an extra hot and long shower—double washing your hair with an expensive shampoo, exfoliating and shaving every inch of your body.

you lounge around in your housecoat until you have to start getting ready—two hours before you're supposed to head to johnathan’s apartment. you opt for your usual makeup and natural hair, and you decide on your favourite jeans and black long sleeve—keeping it casual, but still cute.

hazelnut blinks at you from her spot on your closed toilet seat, a tiny purr leaving her stripped body. you pause the last flick of your mascara wand, eyeing your cat. "what? should I change?" she blinks again, and you smile like a crazy person. "you're right, I think it's perfect."

your cat chirps like she agrees, and it makes you laugh, coating your lashes in the final coat of your favourite mascara. "okay hazel baby," you start, eyeing your small collection of fragrances. "which perfume gives off i’m sophisticated but also I want to have sex vibes?"

her head cocks to the side, and you sigh. "sometimes I forgot you're not human," you reach out and give her a few affectionate pats. "johnny is going to be so surprised when he finds out I talk to my cat." you mutter to yourself, eyeing the perfumes once more. before you can overthink the decision and ultimately be late for your date, you spray yourself with your usual perfume—praying that it's a scent that johnathan loves.

the drive to his apartment only takes about 15 minutes, the traffic not too much considering it was an uneventful thursday evening. the security guard lets you through the gates after you told him you're a visitor—the sweet old man must've got a heads up from johnathan about your arrival.

you park in the first available spot, unbuckle your seatbelt and send him a message, 'i'm here, should I just come up?'

not even 10 seconds pass before he answers. 'i'm on my way down to get you' you smile as you read johnathan’s text, opening your car door and stepping out into the clean but stuffy parking garage. it's not a minute later you hear him call your name, the sound of his voice sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine. you grin as he approaches, "hey."

his smile mimics yours. "hey yourself." before he can decide against it, he pulls you into a quick, but sweet hug, squeezing your waist affectionately—and you go easily, your grin growing ever larger as your engulfed in his chest. he pulls back, "you look really nice...wow."

you watch as johnathan’s gaze wanders over your body, like he can't decide if he wants to undress you with his eyes or simply just admire you clothed. it has your belly swooping, anticipation tingling your body. "thanks, johnny." you hum lowly, taking the time to let your own gaze wander him.

johnathan looks so handsome—a crisp black shirt, and light wash jeans wrapping around his large thighs so deliciously. much to your embarrassment (or maybe your liking), he catches your stare, and a deep smile settles on his face at you clearly checking him out. "let's go upstairs."

you nod, slightly dazed and already turned on, letting him slide his fingers between yours and pull you in the direction of the elevator. the tension between you is undeniable, and the flirtatious glances you keep giving each other on the ride up to his floor are almost embarrassing. you're both so infatuated with one another, and you haven't even been close to kissing yet.

johnathan opens his apartment door, and the smell of soy sauce and steamed vegetables hit you—your stomach lowly rumbles and your mouth begins watering at the thought of food. he gestures for you to enter first, and he follows behind, shutting the door with a soft click. "the food was early, i've been keeping it warm in the oven—hope that's okay."

his apartment is really nice, with dark furniture and exposed brick. it's definitely a man cave, but not in a single, frat boy kind of way—but a sophisticated, busy manly way. you run your fingers over a dark green throw hanging over the back of the leather couch, a small playful grin pulling at your lips as you shoot him a look over your shoulder. "you know johnny, you're not supposed to leave the oven unattended."

he's in the kitchen, and because the apartment is mostly open concept—minus the bedroom—you can see him perfectly. johnathan opens the oven door, a breathy laugh leaving him as he takes out the various takeout containers. it's definitely not healthy for a professional athlete to be eating salty, delicious japanese cuisine, and if you were a meal specialist, you'd be frowning. but you're not! so you're not complaining.

"guess im just a risk taker." he hums, placing some of the ramen broth next to the cooked broccoli container—popping the lids off both.

you walk towards the island, leaning against the counter top to watch him work. you practically ogle his body as it moves—muscles shifting and contracting under his shirt so temptingly. you remove the lid off the spring bean take out container, a small grin on your face. "i'm hoping so ."

all the food is on the counter now, and that leaves johnathan to grab some dishes for the both of you—opening the cupboard beside the microwave and grabbing two sloped bowls and match plates. "are you always so confident?" he questions, placing them on the counter in front of you. he pulls open one of the drawers on his side of the island, pulling out two of each utensil. "like I don't know, you always seem to know exactly what to say...it's hot."

you blush, his compliment laying heavy on your heart. you take one of the bowls, loading some of the vegetable mix into it. "no actually, my confidence is mostly fake." he hums in surprise, spooning some beans into his bowl. you continue, "like i'm confident in my job, but when it comes to things like this—like you—I gotta fake it."

johnathan’s brows furrow while he contemplates which meat he wants in his ramen. "what?! like me? what does that mean?" he shoots you an amused look, before inevitably choosing beef and adding it into his bowl.

you laugh once, rounding the island to better reach the small styrofoam container of green onion. "yeah, I don't know you make me...feel things."

"what kind of things?" he questions lowly, the sound making your head spin. johnathan knows damn well what you're insinuating, and as soon as you say the words out loud, he may pounce.

you put some liquid into your bowl, completing the ramen bowl. you break apart one of the many pairs of chopsticks—there's enough food on the island to feed the entire team and some, so the twenty odd pairs of chopsticks don't come as a surprise. you twirl the utensils through the coil noodles, "i'll tell you later."

johnny barks a laugh, a nod following suit. "okay, fine." he watches as you bring the noodles to your mouth immediately, and he stops adding broth to his bowl. "just be careful cause it'll be really hot-"

his warning is cut short as you jump, your mouth hung open as you attempt to fan the hot food in—so hot that the steam is pouring from you like a dragon. "fuck, oh my god." you curse through the mouthful of burning noodles. you can't believe you didn't think to give it a minute before shoving the food in your mouth, and now it's so hot that you can't even chew the food without pain. you're left to only fan yourself and wait.

johnathan abandon’s his bowl on the counter, walking towards you in two quick strides. a curse falls from his mouth, "okay, hold still." he instructs you firmly, but yet softly—large hands enveloping your head as he holds your face. slowly, as if to not startle you, johnathan begins blowing into your mouth, his breath coming in fast bursts that help cool the food in your mouth.

he's so close to you and his touch is so gentle that you can't do anything but blink at him dreamily, watching as he cools the food in your mouth like it's nothing. a moment passes, and his blowing stops. "better?" johnathan questions, pulling back just enough to gauge your reaction.

you nod, slowly starting to chew the significantly less boiling hot noodles in your mouth. he smiles gently, and drops his hands from your face almost reluctantly—already he misses the warmth of your skin under his touch.

thankfully the rest of dinner goes smoothly, and you blow on every single bite loudly before attempting to put it past your lips—which has johnathan laughing in amusement, sometimes even joining in on cooling your food, which should not be so hot, but it is. you're almost tempted to burn your mouth again just so he will hold you and blow into your mouth once more.

you're not even surprised at how well you and johnathan vibe and communicate—somehow it just all makes sense, and that really doesn't help the crush you have for him. after finishing your two bowls of ramen and johnathan’s three, you both clean up, easy chatter flowing between you. it's refreshing, and feels so right—you almost forget that it's wrong.

soon enough you find yourselves in his living space, sitting on the shaggy rug you claimed you needed to feel—your backs resting on the worn leather couch. you've got your knees bent towards your chest, balancing a wine glass between your two fingers and the top of your knee cap—looking over at johnathan as he laughs at the tail end of your story.

"okay wait," he smiles, eyes twinkling with the upmost amusement. "so your best friend just threw them on his lawn?" he questions, searching for confirmation that, yes, he did hear you correctly. he shifts, turning himself even further in your direction—so close that you can feel the heat of him against your side.

you nod, your own smile softly gracing your face. "yup, 20 boxes of instant mashed potatoes that turned into mush during the rainfall." he laughs once more, finding the story about your best friend and her revenge plan against her ex amusing.

"oh wow, remind me to never mess with her." johnathan teases, taking a sip of his mulberry wine. you follow suit, bringing the thin rim up to your lips and taking a gulp—the flavours spicing your tongue just the way you like. you've always had a hard time turning down wine, especially when a guy who looks like johnathan kovacevic is the one offering it. worse case, you'll just stay the night.

his eyes flicker with something you can't decipher, swallowing his sip of alcohol as he eyes you. "so what about you?"

you swallow, brows pulling in question. "what about me?"

"ever instant mash potato a guys lawn?" he asks with a tempting, playful smirk.

you laugh, placing your now empty wine glass on the rustic, chest style coffee table—the sound a gentle clink in the otherwise quiet apartment. you shake your head, "no, i'd be too scared of getting caught."

he purses his lips softly, brows coming together to create a small indent above his nose. johnathan hums quietly—the sound so charming you almost pass out. "I think you're braver than you think, y/n."

oh, you think—breath catching in your throat. johnathan’s eyes on you are too much, but somehow not enough. you can't decide where to look, your eyes darting all over his face to try and drink in as much of him as possible.

johnathan's breathing changes, his lungs working overtime like he can't quite catch his breath—the way you're looking at him having him feel nothing but breathless. his tongue swipes along his bottom lip, gaze finding your plump, wine stained lips.

he blinks, turning away to place his wineglass next to yours—there's a sip left in his, but he doesn't care to finish it. "you should probably go," johnathan mumbles, eyes finding your lips once more. "otherwise i'll end up doing something stupid like kissing you or..." he slowly trails off, taking a deep breath before he meets your wide, glossy eyes.

"or what?" you prompt, tone all hopeful and quiet.

johnathan hums deeply, the sound shooting signals straight down to your core—you clench your legs together to soothe the ache you've been feeling since you got here. he licks his lip again, slow and deliberate. "...or undressing you."

you almost whine—it's pathetic and johnathan finds it so unbelievably hot. you flush even deeper than the shade the wine has left you, and you slowly bring your lip into your mouth, nibbling on the edge. "maybe I want you to kiss me...and undress me."

he practically moans. "y/n...you can't say that unless you mean it." his words are almost like a warning—an out of the tension building between you. johnathan is giving you the opportunity to walk away, and not break the rules because of him—no matter how bad he wants you to. johnathan's fingers twitch as he desperately tries to keep to himself, watching you through half lidded eyes as he waits your response.

but you don't want an out—you want him. slowly, you shake your head, legs sliding down and away from your torso. the stretch is nice, but it does no favours for your throbbing core. "I wouldn't unless I did." you whisper, pushing up and onto your knees. gently, but confidently, you swing your leg over his lap and sit on him. johnathan's jaw goes slack, watching through his lustful gaze as you move.

he can't take it anymore—he needs to get his hands on you. johnathan's palms slide up the sides of your thighs, squeezing the flesh through your jeans. subconsciously you begin moving your hips, leisurely grinding your clothed core over his. your breath hitches, forehead resting against his. "I need you, johnny."

that's all it takes for johnathan to attach your lips together, kissing you like he's been wanting to since he first saw you. it's like your mouths are made for one another, perfectly moving and caressing and sliding around one another's like you've been doing it for years.

his hands slide to cup your ass, giving you a firm squeeze before he helps grind you over his clothed core—not once stopping the bruising, messy kiss you're engaged in. his lips feel so good it hurts, and if you were to die in that moment you wouldn't be upset. your hands card through his thick strands of hair, scratching his scalp in a way that his him sighing into your kiss.

suddenly, johnathan pulls away, leaving you to whine in disappointment. his glazed over eyes flicker open at the same time yours do—eyes locking. "i've been dreaming about this—about you." he says through heavy breathing, fingers flexing against your lower back.

"you have?" you ask through a moan, your covered clit perfectly sliding over his hardening length.

he nods, leaning in and pressing a hot kiss against your jawline. just when you think he'll stop, he moves farther down, littering kisses against the line of your jaw until he reaches your ear. "I want to please you." johnathan whispers before nipping at your lobe.

you sigh, pawing at the hem on his shirt. "please." you lift the item of clothing completely off, exposing the expanse of tan, defined muscles that you've only ever had glimpses of before this moment. you jaw goes slack, fingers absentmindedly racking down his pecks and abs. "oh my god, you're so hot."

he laughs once before kissing your lips firmly—a wordless thank you. johnathan's hands slip underneath your shirt, dragging it up and off your body like its second nature—leaving you in your polka dot bra. "shit, been dreaming of these too." he mutters, palming your tits. "you've been driving me crazy for weeks with these tits, baby."

all you can manage is a moan, hips moving on their own accord as you chase the tension building in your core. a whispered plea leaves you once again, and it has johnathan gripping your backside tightly and sifting you onto your back, skin melting into the soft, shaggy rug.

you exhale shakily, fingers fisting the carpet right next to your head as johnathan begins trailing kisses down your sternum, and further towards your belly button. "that feels good." you say, hips twitching under torso.

johnathan lifts his head, eyes twinkling with playfulness as he locks his gaze on your face. "can I taste you?" you nod eagerly, and his smirk shows once again—one of his hands fiddling with your button until it pops open. johnathan sits back on his heels, and you shiver at the lack of his body heat on top of you—but as he begins sliding your jeans down, exposing your damp paintes, you quickly forget about anything but that.

he shutters, licking along his lips as he locks in on your skimpy underwear. you bite onto your bottom lip, but your smirk isn't even hidden by that. "I need you so bad, johnny." the sight of your almost shy grin has him faltering, fingers itching to get you naked—and he does, hooking his fingers through your underwear and pulling them away from your wet core.

johnathan can't wait any longer, laying flat so his face is mere inches away from your throbbing pussy—licking his lips at the sight of your arousal pooling and slowly dripping onto his rug. "fuck, you're soaking wet for me, baby."

your hips jump upwards, desperate for some friction. you don't think you've ever been this turned on in your entire life, and for god sakes all you've done is a little amateur dry humping. johnathan's words further rile you up, and you can't help but whine out like a cat in heat.

"that noise," he breathes, spreading your legs even further apart with his large hands. "keep making it." johnathan doesn't give you a chance to answer before he's licking a firm strip up your folds, spreading your arousal with his tongue.

"oh...fuck." you curse, eyes fluttering with bliss and pleasure, johnathan repeating his movements in a lapid, expert manner. his long fingers flex on your thighs, digging into your flesh to continue holding you open—giving him the most range on pleasing you.

he sucks your clit into his mouth before swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud—a movement that has you approaching your peak quicker than expected. you breath hitches, nails digging into the rug. "oh, fuck i'm close."

johnathan moans against your clit before dipping back to your entrance, thrusting his tongue into your sopping hole—a squelching noise echoing through the room. he doesn't let up, and it has you reaching your peak, a frantic 'i'm cumming' leaving you in a hurry as your walls spasm on his tongue.

your ride our your orgasm while johnathan licks against your clit lazily, sending jitters through your body. it's ethereal, and so fucking good—you can't decide if you want to scream or sob. your eyes blink open, finding him hovering over you once more. "you okay?"

you hum blissfully, hands running over johnathan's arms and unapologetically squeezing and feeling his biceps. "better than okay." you watch him smirk briefly, his fingers tilting your chin up in an affectionate way before sliding back and caressing your jaw. and like the sex god he apparently is, his thumb parts your lips, rubbing along the surface before leaning in and kissing you.

you could be kissing for only 2 minutes, or it could be 20–time has completely slipped away from both you and johnathan as your lips move along one another. you can feel his hard length through his jeans, pressing against your thigh like a rock—you can also feel your own arousal building back up, dripping down your ass like you're some pornstar.

you disconnect your lips, pulling back just enough to talk. "I want you to fuck me." reaching towards his belt, you begin fiddling with the buckle, the metal clinking together as you unfasten it.

he kisses the corner of your mouth. "I must be dreaming."

you smile, tugging his zipper down. "you're not." johnathan assists you the rest of the way, briefly standing so he's able to completely rid of his jeans. just before he tugs his boxers down, he curses lightly—smile never wavering. "hold on, baby. need a condom."

you get the pleasure of watching him jog into his bathroom in the retrieval of protection—his ass looking mouthwatering under his fitted black briefs. without even thinking logically, your hands slide down your body until you're finding your wet folds, gathering your arousal and bringing it to your clit—circling the bundle slowly.

johnathan finds you like that, condom wrapper half torn in his hands. "you can't do that baby," he groans, "i'm already dying here."

you giggle, the sound broken by a moan at a powerful circle around yourself. your breath hitches, eyeing his almost completely naked body like you're an animal. "take your underwear off, johnny."

he's already in the process of removing the last article of clothing on himself as you ask, releasing his angry, heavy cock from the restraints of his briefs. the sight of him—the sheer size of him—has you gasping. johnathan drops back down between your legs, pulling the condom over his aching length.

you help guide him to your entrance, breathless as his tip brushes your slick folds. johnathan's eyes find yours, "you sure?"

too pent up to speak, you nod—eyes filled with nothing but need and aching, desperate to finally feel all of johnathan. and with that, he eases his entire length into you, stretching you perfectly—your walls molding around him like you're made for him. you let out a choked whine, watching his cock disappear into you. "oh fuck."

he bottoms out, balls resting against your ass—twitching as your gummy walls flutter over him. you can feel him in your stomach he's so deep and long—it feels like he's everywhere. "god, you feel so fucking good." johnathan babbles, already drunk on your pussy. he can't wait a moment longer, and begins thrusting, sliding in and out of your pussy easily due to your leaking arousal.

you're both so horny and worked up and only a few minutes of deep, passionate thrusts, messy kisses and hushed affirmations, that you're both growing close to your respective releases. you're whining like it's the only thing you know how to do, wrapping your thighs around johnathan's torso and he ruts into your hole—stabilizing yourself as best you can. it's a bit difficult when you feel like jello, but it's so good that you're not even caring.

"I can—oh fuck—can feel you fluttering baby, you gunna cum?" he breathes, the rhythm of his thrusts begin to falter as he nears his first orgasm of the evening. but he holds on, focusing on your spasming hole and pleasure pulled face.

you nod, jaw slack. "so close."

johnathan pushes even deeper into your pussy, which you didn’t think was possible, but he does it—tip kissing your cervix with every delicious rut into you. his hand finds yours, and he interlocks your fingers together—grounding not only himself but you to the moment.

"please don’t stop," you mewl desperately, grip tightening around his warm hand as you find the tipping point of your orgasm. "i'm cumming." and you do, walls clamping down on his cock as your reach another toe curling release.

johnathan's brows furrow in concentration as he focuses on your orgasming pussy, groaning as he thrusts into you three unrhythmic times. "holy shit, me too, fuck." his seed shoot into the latex, hot spurts of cum filling the condom wrapped around him.

you smile at the feeling, pressing a firm kiss against the front of johnathan's strong shoulder—nipping his skin with your teeth playfully.

he grins, still nestled in your warmth. "stay with me tonight."

you don't need to be asked twice, and soon enough you're being ushered into the spacious shower of johathan's apartment—the two of you washing one another in the most intimate, soft way. you're completely ruined for anyone else, and now you'll never be able to stay away from johnathan. the way he looks at you, dressing you in his clothes for bed while you're hair is still wet and face flushed—it's something you'll never forget.

you fuck again in bed, riding him slowly as breathy moans leave you both. you're not even fully naked this time, johnathan's college shirt pulled up and over your hips as he holds onto your love handles, helping you slide up and down his length. you both fall asleep in a breathless, tangled embrace—soft conversation and adorning smiles shared before you both let your eyes flutter closed.

part3: kiss it better

from that moment on you're pretty positive you're falling for johnathan kovacevic. the morning after your date, you both wake up frantically, afternoon practice sneaking up on you. just before you left, all tangled mess of hair and mascara stained eyes, johnathan grabbed your wrist gently, tugging you close to him. "can we do this again? I don't just mean the sex..I mean the dating and talking and everything in between."

to which you responded with, "yes please."

for the next few months you and johnathan find yourselves in a very secret relationship. you're going on dates late after games, lounging in his apartment or your apartment until you both fall asleep. hazelnut approves, and you think she likes your boyfriend more than she likes you. johnathan is always sending you flowers, and ordering you food when you're cranky—which obviously makes you emotional and clingy. you watch each other's favourite movies, and you're the queen of stealing his clothes. and oh my god the sex.

johnathan is like ridiculously good when it comes to pleasing you—kissing, sucking, licking and pounding all the right spots until you're on the verge of tears. sex with him is addicting, you don't think you had as much intercourse since like...ever—not even when you were a horny driven teenager.

johnathan will never get tired of your flushed skin and pulled face—jaw fallen slack while you whisper johnny over and over like a prayer. he is as obsessed with you as you are with him—if not more so. he's only had two serious girlfriends between meaningless hookups in his lifetime, and neither of them felt like this.

it has the both of you getting a little...risky, to say the least. your gazes linger on one another for just a second too long while you're at work, johnathan stands close while in huddles, and his fingers brush the back of your hand in passing almost every time—it's dangerous but neither of you can help it.

2 months into your forbidden romance, you're both dressing (in separate homes, unfortunately) for the new jersey devils charity gala—an event where everyone dressed in beautiful gowns and/or sharp suits to mingle, participate in raffles and raise money for charities.

johnathan was expecting you to look phenomenal based on the mere fact that you always do, but when you walked into the decorated rink, covered in a soft cream silk dress that dipped low down your back—leaving little to the imagination—he just about ripped it off you right in the middle of the bustling room.

you knew you were in trouble by the way your boyfriends gaze followed you throughout the first hour of the evening, tongue swiping his bottom lip or biting it in an attempt to not run over to you and destroy you. it also doesn't help that you want him to, god damn you feel like you're in heat looking at johnathan—standing with staff and teammates in a perfectly tailored suit, sipping some champagne like a slut.

so from across the room when he gestures for you to follow him, you listen easily. it's only a few antagonizing minutes later when your boyfriend is pulling you into a coat closet, lips finding yours instantly in a heated exchange.

"you look fucking edible." johnathan groans against your mouth, hands running over your body and squeezing your flesh through the silky dress. he nips at your jaw, igniting breathless laughter from your heaving chest.

you drag his face back to yours, pressing your lips to his once again. the kiss isn't only hot, but it's risky, especially in the closet that holds all the jackets and personable teams of team and staff members. but as johnathan drags your dress up one leg, slipping his hand underneath the cream silk—your mind goes blank. two long, strong fingers brush your exposed core, spreading the sticky wetness that's pooling between your folds.

he curses lowly, the tip of his middle finger prodding your entrance—but then, the door handle rattles, curtis lazar's voice growing louder as he begins opening the door. you and johnathan pull apart, jumping to opposite sides of the room and pretending to look busy—stifling through various coats and jackets.

thankfully, curtis saw nothing and is to aloof to the tension lingering between his teammate and assistant coach. from that moment, you and johnathan both know you need to get a grip, and if you're not careful, your reputation and relationship will be destroyed.

so with that in mind, you both make sure while you're at work, you're strangers. johnathan doesn't look at you, and you don't let your gaze linger on his. and this crisp tuesday evening, surrounded by thousands of fans packed into the prudential center, it'll be no different. you're his coach, and johnathan is strictly a player to you. period.

everything is normal—how it should be, really. well, everything expect the lingering turning in your stomach and heat warming your skin uncomfortably. you've not been feeling the best today, and there's been a constant queasy feeling in your belly since you got out of bed.

you've done your best to try and ignore it, brush it under the rug until it goes away—but it's proving to be persistent, and as the hours tick by your symptoms are getting worse. you know you probably should've called in, but you didn't—and now your feeling dizzy watching the players skate past the bench.

a deep exhale leaves your lungs, eyes darting to the foam covered floor beneath your feet. the crowd has your head pounding and ears ringing—this isn’t good. your stomach feels like a shaky roller coaster on the verge of turning upside down and ruining your day.

the lights are impossibly bright as you look back up, and that's when you know something is wrong. weakly and with dwindling vision, you shuffle closer to sheldon, subtly nudging his side. "I think i'm going to be sick."

his brows raise, turning his full attention to you—keeping his face neutral as to not raise suspicion. "you've been pale since you walked in here—please, go get checked out. i'm getting worried, and I don't need us to be distracted."

you attempt to laugh, but it comes across as a painfully hushed groan. sheldon gently guides you in the direction of the hallway, and into the arms of a medical staff member. after you tell ronald, said staff, what's going on he's shuffling you down the hall and to the direction of the medical room.

you don't make it inside before your knees give out, falling to the floor as you go unconscious.

johnathan skates back to his bench after a 1:30 shift, chest heaving as he desperately fights for air. he throws one gangly leg over the boards, followed by the other—but he freezes as he notices you're no longer present.

his brows furrow in a mixture of confusion and worry. you were there when he left the bench, and you seemed fine—a little pale and quiet but still ordering the team around like the confident, sexy woman you are. but now you're missing. johnathan tries not to show emotion on his face, but he can't help but to look over his shoulder every few minutes to see if you've returned.

by the time first intermission begins, you're still nowhere in sight. johnathan is glad nico brings attention to your sudden absence after keefe's speech, because johnathan is dying and anxious about not knowing your whereabouts.

"coach y/l/n left to get checked out by medical because she wasn't feeling good. i'm not sure of her condition but I understand she will not be coming back tonight."

sheldon's words have johnathan's stomach dropping down to his ass. before he has to head back out to the ice, he shoots you a quick text—letting you know that he'll be at yours after the game.

the rest of the game goes by in a flurry of anxious waves and painfully slow minutes. he can't get out of his gear quick enough, speeding through a shower so he's able to quicker get on the road—get home to his girl.

johnathan definitely breaks a few laws on the way to your place, but he can't help it—he knows nothing about your state, only the brief text of acknowledgment you sent him in response, and he’s started to get really fucking worried.

the doors unlocked, and johnathan kicks his dress shoes off beside one of hazelnuts feathery toys, walking into your silent apartment. he finds you on the couch, still in your work clothes. the door shutting had your eyes blinking open, vision slowly focusing just as your boyfriend kneels in front of you.

"hey baby," he mumbles, running his hands over your sweaty forehead. "what's wrong my girl?" his eyes flicker over your dewy, pale skin, a frown pulling on his face at the sight of your obvious discomfort and exhaustion.

your cat perks up at the sound of his voice, and immediately jumps off the back of the couch to run against johnathan's legs. you pout, "i've been feeling sick all day, and it just got worse. I didn't even make it to the medical room before passing out, johnny." tears begin gathering in your eyes, making clear vision even more impossible—you feel awful. "it was really scary."

instantly he's leaning down to kiss your head. "i'm sorry baby. did they give you some meds?" he asks against your hair.

you hum—the sound strained. "yeah. they're making me tired."

he fusses over you for a few moments longer, pressing comforting kisses to your damp face—but he doesn't want you to be in uncomfortable clothes for any longer. johnathan strips you of your clothes and quickly changes you into your favourite sweats before slipping behind you on the couch—pulling you into his chest.

you're kind of out of it and all you can really register is your boyfriends dark button up under your cheek, his hand rubbing your back and the sound of sex and the city playing from your tv. it's so numbing and relaxing that it quickly has you falling back to sleep, soft snores passing through your dry lips.

you wake up the next morning in your bed, eyes slowly focusing as you catch the sight of johnathan pulling his suit pants back on in your bedroom—the morning sun streaming the the cracks of your curtains.

"hey," you start, voice croaky. "what's going on?"

your boyfriend whips around in your direction, shoving one arm through his dress shirt. "hey, sorry I didn't want to wake you up." he rounds the mess of blankets half off the bed, kissing your head. "how was your sleep?"

"I don't even remember you getting here yesterday." you admit sheepishly, rubbing the sleep out of your eye. "I was so fucked up, god."

"it's okay," johnathan reassures you sweetly, buttoning up his shirt. "you really had me worried—you looked so sick."

you cough, a sickly dry sound that is a rough reminder of the illness lingering your body. but as you eye your boyfriend, seemingly getting ready for morning practice, has all thoughts of sickness leaving you—replaced with panic. "oh my god, i'm going to be late for practice."

you try and get out of bed, but johnathan is quicker—gently pushing you back to the pillows. "you're not going—I dealt with it all through your phone, okay. and I must say, keefe was rather relieved that you're taking the day."

"oh," you hum with a small grin, body naturally melting into your bed. "okay. you going now?"

johnathan nods. "yeah. gotta stop at home and change quick, but i'll be back later." he tosses last nights suit jacket over his shoulder, "need anything brought back?"

you smile, "just you."

he smirks all slow and syrupy down at you, cupping your cheek with his warm palm. "okay baby—can I have a kiss?"

you slap your hand over your lips—which are rather crusty and has you cringing. "I don't want to get you sick." you say, words muffled against your palm.

johnathan brows pull tightly, his smirk not letting up. "I don't care baby." his words have you faltering, dropping your hand and puckering your mouth for a kiss—which he happily obliges in giving you.

later while he's getting changed, pulling his shin pads on, he hears jack asks about your whereabouts beside him. johnathan isn't sure if he's just speaking out loud, or asking him directly—but he turns his full attention to the middle hughes brother. "she called in sick today."

jack kind of makes a curious face, one that says and how would you know that?

and the following day when johnathan doesn't come to the rink because he's sick...jack has the smallest inkling that he may know why the defence man knew about you're whereabouts.

part4: you’re made for me

you think your least favourite part about being on the road is the lonely feeling you get lying in an empty hotel room—left with only your thoughts and the hum of the heating unit.

it doesn't help that johnathan is in the same hotel…on the floor below you, and you can't even see him. you're not long back from the game, a win nonetheless, and the vegas night life is still buzzing in the street below. you knew some of the guys would be heading out for a few hours to enjoy the casinos—but you heard your boyfriend decline curtis' invitation.

so you know he's in his room—but wether his roommate is with him is unbeknownst to you. you miss him, and are in desperate need of hearing his voice. you hum, grabbing your phone off the charger beside you—thumbing your screen until his contact comes up.

you've got him saved under the soccer ball emoji—ever since you two started getting serious, you knew that having johnathan saved as his name was risky, especially when he had a habit of sending you toe-curling texts. and the same goes for your name on his phone, and instead of the previous use of your full name, he's replaced it with the name of your favourite tv show character.

hey, you send. are you alone?

a beat passes and then your phone begins to ring, the soccer ball emoji filling your screen as johnathan calls you. your grin, biting your lip as you slide over the answer button.

you lift your phone to your ear, excitement bubbling and settling deep in your belly.

"i'm alone." johnathan answers lowly, the slow smirk evident through his voice.

you sigh softly. "didn't want to go out tonight? celebrate the win? mr. two point night." your voice is playful, and kind of sexy—it has him already palming himself through his sweatpants.

a low groan leaves him, the sound leaving you flushed in the other line. you already can tell the turn this conversation is going to take, and you're not opposed to it one bit. he laughs, the sound doing a million things to you and your needy clit. "got those points for you, baby."

"whatever," you grin, hand slipping under your loose pyjamas shirt, resting on your lower belly—absentmindedly tickling just below your belly button.

"you okay?" this question is more serious, because above all else, johnathan cares for you, and if you're texting him, he wants to make sure nothing is wrong before he asks to see your boobs like a schoolboy.

you nod, and then remember he can't see you. "yeah, just miss you." you admit shamelessly, fingers dipping below the band of your sleep shorts. your breath hitches as the pads of your fingers brush over your folds, slipping through the wet mess that's been building since you picked up the phone.

the sound has johnathan groaning again, his own hand slipping under his sweatpants and finding his now rock hard and aching cock. he’s been thinking about this moment since he say your game day skirt—hugging your ass delightfully. he squeezes the base, igniting another strangled moan from his chest. "yeah?"

you hum lowly, teasing your entrance with your middle finger before trailing back to your bundle of nerves, circling yourself slowly. "I wish you were here."

a small curse leaves his lips. "what would you want me to do...if I was in your room right now?" johnathan questions, his large hand sliding up the entirety of his length, fisting the tip three times before coming back down to the base.

you inhale sharply, but you're breathless regardless. your thighs tighten around your slow moving hand, trapping yourself—your body reacting to your boyfriends words instinctively and leaving you overwhelmed already.

"don't be shy," he grins, squeezing himself. "i'm so fucking hard, baby—your voice is so sexy."

you whine helplessly, johnathan’s words pushing you into a flaming pit of lava—igniting your body in molten flames. "I'd want you to tease me, run your fingers over my soaked shorts until i'm begging you for more." you admit, cheeks flushing even deeper at your dirty words.

there's something so weird about phone sex, but with johnathan's breathing against your ear, and the throbbing between your legs, you're starting to feel very different about the idea. it’s exciting and so fucking hot—mostly because of your sexy boyfriend on the other line, prompting you.

he curses, pulling himself out of his sweatpants so that his cock is standing fully erect. he hisses at the air touching his sensitive skin, running the pad of his thumb over his leaking slit. "holy—fuck me—and then what baby?

"and then..." your breath hitches as you slip your middle finger into your wet entrance, your throbbing pussy sucking you in, down to your knuckle. "then i'd take you out of your pants, and lick up your shaft—slowly—before sucking the head of your cock just the way you like."

"i'm gunna facetime you, okay?"

your stomach drops in excitement. "okay." you slip out of yourself before completely removing your shorts, just as the incoming facetime lights up your phone. you answer it giddy, gnawing on your lip as johnathan's face fills your screen.

he smirks, eyeing your plump pink lips and rosy cheeks—the lust clear in your gaze. "you look so fucking pretty."

your smile grows, and even the way your teeth enclose around your bottom lip can't hide the fact. "johnny," you hum slowly, legs falling open to reveal your core to the empty hotel room. "I need to cum so bad."

he licks along his bottom lip. "set the phone up so I can see."

your vagina throbs pathetically, grabbing a pillow before leaning forward and resting your phone against it—the angle giving johnathan the perfect view of your glistening pussy, the outline of your perky nipples under your shirt and flushed face. he groans, stroking himself as he gets off the bed and moves towards the desk.

johnathan props his phone against the lamp, angling the camera so you're able to see his cock. "slip your pretty fingers in that pussy, baby. wanna see you fuck yourself like I would."

he watches your chest heave as you attempt to catch your breath, hand slipping down your covered stomach and back down through your soaking folds. with a moan, you ease your middle finger and ring finger in your entrance.

"fuck." you whine, head falling back as you begin moving your fingers shallowly, not quite thrusting into yourself, but not staying still either. the perfect amount of stimulation that has your toes curling.

johnathan's jaw goes slack at the sight of you and your hand—a ring of creamy arousal pooling at the base of your knuckles before dripping onto the bed. it's embarrassing how close he is to cumming, fucking his hand while he pretends it's your gooey walls enveloping him instead. "that feel good?" he asks, voice husky. "you're so sexy."

you lift your head, lips parted as breathless sighs leave you. "feels good—wish it was your fingers." a high-pitched whine bubbles from your throat, the palm of your hand rubbing against your clit perfectly. through lidded eyes, you watch johnathan. his abs clench as he fists himself, the smallest drop of pre-cum trialing down the underside of his delicious cock.

you gasp, orgasm hitting you in a white hot surprise, leaving you fluttering around your hand as your release drips off your fingers.

the sight has johnathan following suit, ropes of hot cum shooting from his head as his eyes train on your fluttering pussy and blissed out face.

a beat passes, both of your still working on coming down from your high and catching your breath. johnathan smirks all lazily at you through the screen. "I'm gonna fuck you so good once we get home, yeah?"

his promise has your core jumping all over again, and if johnathan has to fist his hand once more in the shower before bed—that's nobodies business expect yours (because obviously he sends you videos on snapchat).

thankfully the road trip is only two more days, and you get your hands on your boyfriend as soon as you're back in the enclosed walls of his apartment.

a few weeks pass since then, a whirlwind of games and practices that leave you holding your breath and clenching your thighs—you'll never get over how handsome johnathan looks all sweaty and damp, and it never fails in sending butterflies straight down to your pussy.

it seems like weeks until you get a free evening, but eventually it comes, and you take the opportunity for an at home date night—realistically the only ones you can have. johnathan cooks you mouthwatering pasta, and you get to watch him work over the stove from the kitchen island—checking out his back muscles over the rim of your wine glass.

anytime he catches you doing so, he pauses to lean over the island and give you a heart stopping kiss. it's romantic, and you think you may love him.

you eat your food next to one another on the couch, your feet tucked under his thigh while you watch she's all that. johnathan is the kind of boyfriend you dreamed of having since you were little—kind, compassionate, sexy, funny and a little awkward (plus a sex god, but 6 year old didn't know about that).

soon enough your empty bowls are abandoned, and you’re on his lap while your mouths move together. just before anything starts to escalate—johnathan's hands fiddling with your bra—a knock on the door pulls you apart.

"kovy?" an all too familiar voice calls on the other side of the door. "we know you're home. saw your car." we? as in plural? as in there's multiple of his teammates on the other side of the door?

you go stiff on johnathan's lap. "is that curtis?" you question wildly, words barley above a whisper.

he squeezes the flesh of your hips, nodding once. "and brett and erik." johnathan admits through his teeth. "i forgot they wanted me to come out tonight—someone's birthday."

one of them knocks again. "open up you little shit." the voice who sounds like brett laughs, sounding already a few drinks in.

"oh my god," you hiss, getting off johnathan's lap, pulling your discarded hoodie over your head. "oh my fucking god."

johnathan moves quickly, taking your empty bowls to the sink. "one second!" he calls in their direction, running a hand through his messy hair after wetting the dishes.

"are you fucking naked or something?" erik questions, leaning against the wall with an amused expression.

you hear curtis snicker. "he's probably jerking off."

your boyfriend looks at you, eyes full of guilt. "i'm so sorry baby, I totally forgot." he grabs your arms firmly, keeping your attention on him. "i'll get rid of them, okay? I promise."

you look almost scared—blinking up at him like everything is falling apart before your eyes. after all, you're a door away from being caught. "okay."

he nods, kissing the side of your pouting lips before guiding you to his bedroom. "just stay in here, okay? and if you hear me say watermelon, jump into the closet."

if you weren't so anxious you'd probably laugh. but obviously you don't laugh, sitting on the soft mattress as johnathan gives you one more hurried look, shutting his bedroom door with a soft click.

he quickly makes his way to the front door, pulling it open to reveal his three teammates—all of them with splitting grins on their faces. "we've been texting you, man! you forget about us?" brett grins, slapping johnathan's shoulder as the three of them walk into his apartment.

he chuckles awkwardly. "yeah, sorry—meant to text you but i'm not feeling up to going out tonight."

"boooooo," curtis drags out loudly, spinning on one of the bar stools like it's a carnival ride. "boring."

erik picks up the wine glass you left on the coffee table, a visible print of lipgloss on the rim. "you got a girl here, johnny?"

"no." he says all too quickly, face pale and red all at once. "I mean, not anymore. she left."

brett smirks, grabbing the glass out of erik's grip. he inspects the mark closer, that shit eating grin never leaving his face. "you know who wears lipgloss like this? coach y/l/n."

on the other side of the bedroom door, you feel like you're going to faint. you press your ear further against the wood, listening in.

the barstool squeaks under curtis' weight, a mixture of a disgruntled groan and laugh leaving him. "why do you know what kind of lipstick our coach wears? fucking weirdo." much to johnathan's delight, curtis' response has all three boys moving on from the marking on the wine glass. which, thank god because he had no clue how to respond to that observation.

erik eyes the ending scene of she's all that, a knowing grin on his face. "so if she's gone, you're gunna come out with us, right?"

"not really feeling it." johnathan reiterates with a shrug, subtly grabbing your keys off the counter and tucking them into his pocket.

brett groans like a naughty kid, sluggishly making his way back to the door. "fine—we'll let you beat off in peace." the other two follow suit, sending johnathan snarky little grins as they leave.

he rolls his eyes, a tiny grin pulling at his lips. "whatever—have fun." as soon as johnathan can't hear his teammates loud voices anymore, he's shutting the door and flicking the lock. he bounds back to the bedroom, and you pull open the threshold before he has the chance—your eyes wide with unshed emotion and stress.

it has johnathan feeling nothing but guilt, and he wastes no time wrapping you in his arms. "are you okay?"

you nod, but then stop. "no. I thought we were fucked—especially with the lipgloss, oh my god johnny."

he kisses your head three times, each one longer than the last. you sigh into him, letting johnathan hold you like the delicate flower you feel you are in that moment.

you hate this feeling—because secretive behaviour makes you feel dirty. and with the secret you're keeping, you're much more than just dirty. you're breaking the rules, and risking not only your job, but johnathan's. the last thing you want to do is ruin his reputation—you fucking love him for fucks sake.

it’s not even about you anymore. because for him, you’d leave everything if it meant being with him. but you know johnathan, and he would never let you give up your job for him—ever. but you can’t keep going around like this, it’s running you.

you pull back, swallowing roughly as you drop your arms from around his waist. “we can’t do this anymore.”

he freezes. “what do you mean? can’t do what?”

you blink. “johnny…” your voice is laced with a knowing edge, because you know johnathan knows exactly what you mean—you can see it on his face. you look away, as you can’t bare to look at him any longer, it may kill you otherwise. “if we keep sneaking around, it’s going to end badly—it almost blew up in our face tonight.”

his brows furrow, cupping your face firmly so that you have no choice but to look into those eyes you love so much. “but I didn’t-It won’t if we do this right.” a rough swallow makes his adam’s apple jump, looking over your face like he can’t decide where to go. “tell me what I can do to change your mind.”

a tear falls down the round of your cheek, and the sight stabs him right in the chest. you shake your head, licking the salty water off your cupids bow. “I just…I think we need to stop.”

his hands fall from your face, and he runs them through his hair—pulling at his root until it hurts. johnathan respects you, and he loves you—even if he thinks you don’t love him in this moment. he will fulfill any wish you ask of him, and he’d do it with a smile, because you’re the most important thing in the world. so he nods firmly. “okay. if you want to stop, we’ll stop. I don’t care what’s happening. all I care about is you.”

you nod—too many emotions lodged in your throat to speak. johnathan reluctantly hands you your keys, your fluffy keychain tickling his skin for the last time. you pluck your purse that’s wedged between the pillow and side of the couch, slinging it over your shoulder before making your way to the door, leaving without another look in johnathan kovacevic’s direction.

part5: love looks pretty on you

as soon as you get back to your place you break down in embarrassing sobs—falling onto the couch while hazelnut licks your chin. although you think she just likes the taste of your tears, rather than it being a comforting thing, but you pretend it’s the latter.

as much as it hurts you and you regret it, you know breaking things off with johnathan was the right choice. you don’t want to burden him, or hold him back—you can’t be that girl. so as much as you want to call him and tell him you’ve changed your mind, you don’t. it’s for the better, even if you have a hard time believing it right now.

the next week is nothing short of painful. you can feel johnathan’s eyes on you constantly, but you’re strong in ignoring him—going about your drills like he’s just another face in the crowd. if keefe notices something is up with you, he doesn’t say anything. which honestly seems worse than if he was to ask.

johnathan is no better. he’s slacking on the ice, and it’s showing even during practice—slow and uncertain and clearly distracted. he can’t stop thinking about you, or looking at you. johnathan cant help but think about all the things he wish he said to you, before you ended it.

how he’ll always care for you. how he’d quit hockey for you if that’s what you wanted. how he’s never felt about someone the way he feels for you. that he loves you.

it’s lonely without you. he misses your laugh and your smile and the way you kiss his peck every morning when you wake up. johnathan even misses hazelnut and her persistent chirping.

he so desperately wants to get you back. show up on your doorstep with flowers and a speech that would probably make you cry. but he doesn’t do that—because it would go against your wishes, and break whatever trust you put in him. it’s killing him, and he can only hope you’re happy.

—

you’re lingering with the uneasy feelings that come with a loss, tossing your purse on the counter before kicking off your heels. although the loss was a team issue, you can’t help but remember how johnathan was -5 tonight, and how exhausted and defeated he looked the entire game.

you can’t help but speculate—scratch that, there’s no speculation. you know it’s because of your breakup, and that makes you feel really shitty. if it’s still affecting him this much, hell if its still affecting you this much, you can’t help but think it was the wrong choice to make.

months of a healthy relationship down the drain for…what? because you were scared? that’s not you. johnathan brought out the best in you, he listened and cared for you like nobody before. in jersey, you’re alone. no friends or family close by to talk to or spend time with, only hazelnut. but with johnathan you had family. and you fucking threw it away.

your eyes flicker to the clock on the microwave. it’s almost midnight. you take your bottom lip between your teeth, contemplating your next actions. are you really about to do this? show up to your exs door and what? apologize? beg for him back?

you don’t know. but you know you love him, and you think letting him go forever will be the worse decision of your life.

coaching is a dream job. working with athletes in such an authoritative manner is a dream—it was your dream. but you have a new dream, and his name is johnathan. and if there’s one thing you’ve always lived by, it’s that to never give up on your dreams, especially for someone else. but that’s not what you’re doing—your dream has shifted, and you’re following its path in hopes of fulfillment.

before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re slipping on the first pair of shoes you see—a pair of heart print sandals that aren’t appropriate for the spring chill. you grab your keys and nothing else, getting into your car and following the familiar route to johnathan’s apartment.

the doorman recognizes you by now, and he lets you in with a smile. you’re anxious on the way up the elevator, a million things to say running through your mind—but as the doors open on johnathan’s floor, your head goes blank.

you force yourself to knock, a quiet sound that is barley heard from the bedroom at the back of the apartment…but johnathan hears it. he trudges over to the front door, nothing but a black hoodie and his boxers on.

as soon as the door is pulled open, revealing you in summer shoes and your game day pant suit from the game, johnathan is exhaling lowly. his eyes dart around your face, analyzing you. “you okay?”

your stomach clenches. he’s so fucking caring. “you’re my dream, johnny.” you blurt out, definitely too loud for this time of night.

his brows furrow, like he’s not sure what you mean. and fair enough, you think, because what does that mean? you continue shakily, “I love you. so much that it actually hurts. I would give up everything if it meant being with you forever—and I know you’d never let me, because you care about me and my dream. that’s why I ended things, as stupid as that sounds, because I didn’t want to put you in that situation. I didn’t want you doing something crazy like requesting a trade or fucking retiring early so that I could work for the team—because I knew you would do it.”

you swallow, but your mouth is so dry it almost hurts. “but you’re not going to let me forget about my dream, johnny—because you are my new dream. and if you love me, you’ll let me live with my new dream. being with you is all I need.”

johnathan shakes his head in amused disbelief, the faintest grin tugging at his mouth. “c’mere.” he mumbles, fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling you into his apartment—only lit up by the lamp next to the tv. “you love me?” he asks, fingers leaving your wrist in favour of tucking some loose hair behind your ear—the strands that have escaped your once tight braid.

you nod all too quickly, “so much. i’m sorry.”

johnathan’s smile deepens, cupping your face like he’s done hundreds of times. “it’s okay, baby. I don’t care that you ended things with me—well, yes I care because I love you too—but if that’s what you needed in that moment, I would give it to you over and over again. even if it killed me.” he wets his bottom lip, looking deep into your watery eyes. “are you sure?”

there’s not hesitation in your words—there never has been with johnathan. “positive.” you nuzzle into his palm, “I love you so much.”

he leans in close, lips brushing yours. “I love you.”

and as he leans in and kisses you, you know that everything will work itself out. you’re not worried about the outcome, or what the future holds for your position with the team, but as long as you have johnny to come home to—it doesn’t matter.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

playlist

glitch by taylor swift

stuttering by jack & jack

cry your heart out by adele

fantasy by mariah carey

love looks pretty on you by nessa barrett

sports car by tate mcrae

babydoll by dominic fike

#🤍⊹˚₊ cute and hughesy fic #jonathan kovacevic #johnathan kovacevic smut #johnathan kovacevic imagine #johnathan kovacevic #johnathan kovacevic fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl smut #nhl fanfic #hockey x reader #new jersey devils imagine #new jersey devils smut

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mapis-putellas · 2 days ago

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌/𝑶.𝑩𝒂𝒕𝒍𝒍𝒆

Blurb

Ona sat curled into your side on the couch, her legs tucked under her, eyes narrowed slightly as she watched the TV screen. The dramatic music built in the background, narrating the story of a man who had been missing for ten years before his body was found buried under a shed.

You, on the other hand, looked far too comfortable, munching on a handful of popcorn as if you weren’t watching something horrifying.

“See,” you said, voice thoughtful, “that’s where he messed up. If he’d just worn gloves when moving the body, they wouldn’t have found those fingerprints on the plastic wrap.”

Ona turned to stare at you, blinking. “¿Qué?”

You gestured vaguely toward the screen. “Gloves, baby. No fingerprints, no DNA. That’s like murder 101.”

Ona’s mouth opened slightly before she shut it again, clearly debating whether or not she wanted to continue this conversation. She eventually settled on a sigh, leaning back into you, her fingers absently toying with the sleeve of your hoodie. “I worry about you sometimes.”

You grinned, dropping a kiss onto her temple. “You love me.”

She hummed, but it wasn’t exactly convincing.

The next day, you suggested a date night. A walk, just the two of you. Ona had agreed easily, happy to spend time with you, but she hadn’t expected you to insist on waiting until it was dark outside.

That was when the concerns started creeping in.

Now, she was walking beside you through a small wooded area just outside the city, bundled up in her coat, hands tucked into her pockets, casting you increasingly wary glances.

“You’re being weird,” you finally said, shooting her an amused look.

She shook her head, eyes darting around. “No, tú eres rara.”

“Baby, it’s just a walk.”

She stopped walking. You took another step before realising she wasn’t beside you anymore, turning to find her standing there with a suspicious expression. “You want me alone. In the dark. In the woods.”

You blinked. “Ona. It’s six in the evening. We’re, like, ten minutes from the city.”

She squinted at you. “Still dark.”

You sighed, stepping closer, resting your hands on her hips. “Baby. If I was going to kill you, I wouldn’t do it here. That’s too obvious.”

Ona’s eyes widened. “That does not make me feel better.”

You laughed, tugging her closer. “You’re fine, love. I just wanted to take you somewhere pretty. The view is really nice up ahead. With all the lights and stuff. And you can only see it in the dark.”

She hesitated before sighing, letting you take her hand and guide her along. “If I disappear, everyone will know it was you.”

You squeezed her hand. “They’d never find the body.”

She groaned, bumping her shoulder into yours. “Not funny.”

You just grinned, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “A little funny.”

Despite her grumbling, Ona kept hold of your hand the rest of the way.

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult

#ona batlle x you #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #woso community #woso x reader #woso appreciation #woso imagine #fluff #woso fanfics

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nylauninterrupted · 2 days ago

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CL16 x Reader [the Golden Boy] Valentines Special I

before reading: Welcome to the Valentines Specials! This one is a bit long, since I wanted to do a lot of teasing and slight tension. The intention behind this one is to make it feel sort of like a trashy romcom but in a good way, if you know what I mean? I hope I managed to do that, let me know your thoughts. As always, requests are open and ready for y'all. Happy reading!

summary: You were an anonymous journalist, trying to bring down one of Monaco's biggest illegal organisations. But once its head figured out that you were the one behind the mocking articles, he felt something other than hate.

content warnings: morality is out of question here, a lot of money talk, weird comparisons I guess?, eating out, sex, dom!Charles, no protection implied (wrap it before you tap it obvi), nonproofread

word count: 3943

"The golden boy of the House of Leclerc amazes the public once more with his ignorance and disregard towards the middle class," you observed in satisfaction as the paper's redactor read the article's title out loud.

You took pride in your work, as it was completely unrelated to making money. If anything, you put money into it, reassuring the small local paper's office that you would be more than happy to provide for them if things went sideways due to your articles.

Although you were certainly a part of the upper class, you made no move to get even richer, instead choosing to use your resources in the scheme you had planned out in the last year.

The plan was to bring down the House of Leclerc, possibly the most prosperous criminal organisation in Monaco, covered up as a fashion brand. You knew all about them from your old man, an eccentric millionaire who had information on pretty much anyone in Monaco and beyond.

You felt completely safe in this line of work; you wrote provocative articles that left the public fuming, slowly bringing down the golden boy—Charles Leclerc. Your articles were published anonymously and were the reason for the recent growth of the small paper.

The money they made off selling it went to them alone, as you did not need it. It helped with the anonymity, as you couldn't be traced by the money transfers.

And during your father's parties and dinners, you could watch the golden boy's face as his advisor walked up to him and reported that another article about his sketchy business had just come up.It was a thing you enjoyed immensely, seeing his polite, slightly amused expression shift into a subtle frown.

It's a good thing you avoided ever speaking with him directly and kept your distance; he might have noticed your little smirk otherwise.

"At this point I am surprised he did not pull some strings to get our office to shut down," the editor sighed, setting the manuscript on the table. "It's a good thing you have the money to fight it."

Yes, you fought money with money in a sense. Writing these articles certainly would have been more noble if you were a part of the middle class, but you knew very well how that would go; you would have been silenced before people even started reading your work properly.

"Even if he were to do it, it would not escape the public's attention." You smiled, twirling a strand of your hair between your fingertips. "And if he were to stop me from writing the articles, he wouldn't just force the office to shut down. He'd focus on finding me alone."

"Well, I admire your courage." The editor sighed. "Though sometimes it is getting dangerously close to bordering on stupidity."

You rolled your eyes and smiled again before getting up and dusting your jeans off.

"The transfer came through in the morning, from a dummy account, like always. I will see you next week, yeah?"

And with that you left for your apartment to get ready for another one of your old man's dinners. It did not take too long; there have been heat waves in Monaco recently, making your clothing options quite limited. You settled for a sparkly golden dress, paired with gorgeous makeup.

You winked at yourself in the mirror before checking the time and heading out.It did not take you too long to get to the gathering, where most were already present. You were immediately pulled into hugs and showered with kisses on the cheek from the females present, who were very happy to see you.They all loved you; you were the apple in their eye. If only they knew who was behind the biting articles about them...

Your eyes wandered around the room, searching for your main target—Charles. You were surprised not to see him; the man was almost never late.With a shrug of your shoulders, you entered your father's villa, walking up the staircase and reaching your old bedroom to adjust your makeup a bit.

It was as beautiful and comfortable as you remembered, with little lights hanging down from the ceiling and the art you painted on your walls when you were a teenager. While searching for your highlighter in your bag, you sat down on the chair in front of your old vanity table, not noticing the quiet sound of a person entering the room.

You gazed in the mirror, applying some of the highlighter as an eyetopper, when a voice sounded from somewhere behind you.

"Hello, little writer." Charles spoke in a calm tone, taking a step closer to the light. "I liked your newest article."

You stopped in your tracks for a second, your hand freezing mid-air. You quickly gathered yourself and calmly continued applying your makeup.

"I am no writer," you responded, dabbing the glowy product into your face. "Unfortunately, I never possessed the ability to write proper pieces. You can ask my father, Mr..."

You paused, pretending to be clueless and not know his name, as you looked at him questioningly.

"Charles," he answered softly, looking at you with amusement, "If your father thinks you have no ability to write, then he is quite ignorant, miss (l/n)."

"Well then, I will entertain your theory, Charles." You spoke, turning around and getting up from the chair to face him. Charles checked you out conspicuously, not even trying to hide the way his eyes traced your every curve.

"How did you come up with the idea that I write articles?" you asked, controlling your body language to perfection. In order to appear less confident and intelligent than in reality, you put your hands behind your back instead of folding your arms on your chest.

He seemed to see right through your trick, seeing you for the way you were: smart and cunning.

"Well, there is someone who writes rather... bold articles in some small local newspaper, bringing a lot of attention to themselves," he spoke huskily, taking a step closer to you, "and I decided to investigate, tracing money transfers from a dummy account, observing the newspaper's office..."

Charles leaned towards you, bending down to whisper into your ear, as his warm breath brushed over your neck faintly.

"You should have picked a busier time to visit the office, little miss... Maybe it would have been easier to miss your pretty face on the camera footage."

You shivered slightly and pulled away to the side, giving him a cold look with your eyes narrowed.

"The next time you try to come into a room I'm in alone, without permission, I will be waiting. With a gun." You spoke coldly.

"Don't tempt me." Charles grinned, his eyes glued to yours. "There is one thing I am curious about."

"Why would a rich girl like you care about what I do, enough to risk her reputation and money, writing articles that mock me? You won't benefit financially... You don't have a business that could expand because of it... Oh, wait." He paused, leaning close to your ear again."Is it to get my attention?" He whispered, smirking at you.

"Did you think that way you would be different from all the other women who throw themselves at me?"

"It might be a shock to you, Leclerc, but not every woman out there dreams of seducing you." You rolled your eyes, folding your arms. While he was still a complete jerk, you appreciated that he did not try to put his hands on you during your first encounter, like entitled men who attended your father's gatherings would often do.

Before Charles had the chance to respond, you turned away and left the room. You did not really care what he would do once you left him on his own in your childhood bedroom. He would not dare to do anything in your father's house.

You quickly got back to the gathering and were immediately welcomed back by the group of women from before. You tried to forget about your encounter with the golden boy and the way his hot breath made your whole body shiver, even though he did not lay a single finger on you.

A girl that has been eyeing you all night had offered you a dance, which you gratefully accepted. You twirled around and had fun, the shiny pieces of your dress making you look ethereal in the warm light, as you continued to be watched by Charles, who got back to the party as well.

Just as you finished dancing with the girl and thanked her, a bit out of breath, another one came up to you giggling, telling you that Charles was talking to your father, asking whether he could dance with you.

Your eyes narrowed, and you looked in your old man's way to see him chatting with Leclerc while gesturing in a lively way. As Charles noticed you gazing at them, he gave you a small smirk and a wave before excusing himself and walking towards you.

"I am not dancing with you," you spoke bluntly, looking at him with disdain. Your words just made him smile and roll his eyes in response.

"Oh, but we wouldn't want to disappoint your papa, would we?" Charles spoke teasingly, "It would be very rude to deny a dance with me, don't you think?"

You bit your lip, knowing he was right. To make matters worse, a cheery Italian love song started playing. Your old man liked romcoms and love songs a bit too much for your liking; you had to talk to him about his Mamma Mia obsession at some point.

Charles raised his eyebrow and held out his hand towards you, just as the chorus of Sarà perché ti amo started playing. You gave him a subtle glare once more before placing your fingers on his warm hand. He smiled and pulled you closer to the centre of the room, leading the dance and twirling you around.

"You look gorgeous tonight, little miss," he whispered teasingly, as the crowd watched you dance. "Are you this beautiful even when mocking me in your writing, or did you simply dress up tonight?"

"Considering how you were busy watching me through the street cameras, I think you are well aware of how I look while working," you bit back through gritted teeth as you smiled at him charmingly to keep up appearances. He gave you an equally tender smile, faking it almost effortlessly, before spinning you around again.

"Oh, street cameras aren't the only thing I can use to watch you. I have eyes too, ma déesse," he whispered into your ear, just as the track ended, and he had to let you go. As you walked away from him, you glanced at your father and groaned at his beaming smile. You silently prayed that he wouldn't try to plan anything as a follow-up to your dance with one of his business partners.

Your prayers were not answered. The next evening you got a text from your father, happily informing you that Charles was absolutely enthralled by you and has asked for your number. (You would not be surprised if your father just came up to him after you two danced and forced him to write down your number in his phone.)

You were still seething as you made dinner in the quiet of your apartment when the doorbell rang. You did not expect any guests, so you raised your eyebrows in surprise and washed your hands before opening the door to see Charles standing behind them. A thought of simply shutting the door in his face ran through your head, but you doubted he would actually let you have your peace.

"Why are you here?" You asked, folding your arms while you looked at him questioningly.

"Maybe I wanted to see your pretty face again?" he suggested, a grin appearing on his face. You made a mental note to add "womaniser" to the long list of epithets you used in your articles.

"Bullshit," you said calmly, completely unfazed.

"I want answers, little miss." Charles finally replied, looking at you closely, "I want to know why the little rich girl who attends her daddy's parties every other week decided to mock me and make me her enemy when she would benefit so much more if I were her ally."

"It's fun," you replied. "I like it. Watching all the other rich people in town squirm once word about their little illegal businesses spreads. I liked seeing your expression, the perplexity in your eyes."

He kept observing you for a couple more seconds before he smirked again and started taking slow steps towards you. You instinctively started to retreat to your apartment, but it didn't make him stop. As he entered it, he closed the door behind him, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Are you going to grab a gun now?" Charles teased, referring to the threat you made the evening before. You stopped and overcame your unease. He was on your turf. And you weren't going to take his shit.

"My turn to ask the questions. Why didn't you try to shut me up earlier?"

"It's pretty simple." He responded, tilting his head slightly. "When you first started writing, I wanted nothing more than to find you and rip your head off. But with each little piece of yours, your gender became clear. It baffled me, since I have not crossed any women recently. It interested me, irked me."

Charles took another step towards you, slowly extending his hand, giving you time to retreat. But you did not, surprisingly letting him place his hand on your chin.

"I found out who you were a while ago. But I decided to watch and tried to see what your motive was. At first, I thought it was your father's idea, but I quickly came to the conclusion that he is a harmless old man. No, you came up with it all by yourself."

You remained silent, listening to his words, as his warm fingers traced your jawline and brushed against your neck, stroking your soft skin softly.

"I was completely sure you were a man pretending to be a woman before I discovered your identity." Charles chuckled.

"I did not understand why else you would watch me so closely, describing my every... evil move."His hand went slightly up once more, and he brushed the tip of his thumb against your peach-tinted lips.

"Otherwise... Why would someone want to bring me down? Without any gain from it..." his voice trailed off. "You are fascinating, little miss."

You let out a small, barely audible sigh at his faint touches, making his eyes glint with interest once more.

"Are you sure you still don't want a bit of my attention?" He murmured, bending down slightly, his head inching closer to your face as he spoke.

Of course you knew what kind of man he was. Filthy rich, attractive, and thought the world belonged to him. But could anyone fault you for finding him just a bit appealing?You tilted your head up to look at him properly. Thoughts were running in circles in your mind as you bit your lip, feeling conflicted. Charles could see your struggle, and he waited patiently for your response, not making any move to touch you more. He wanted your consent, for you to give in willingly.

"Maybe just a bit," you whispered, knowing damn well that there was no way that this would be a one-time thing. He smiled at your response, reaching his hand out again, brushing strands of your hair behind your ear, and leaning in to place a small peck on the side of your neck to test the waters. Seeing that you did not resist his affections, he moved closer, his body meeting yours. Charles took you in with his eyes, massaging your body through your clothes, taking his time with you.

"You really do look incredible regardless of the situation," he muttered, burying his face in your hair and inhaling your scent. "You are so interesting, little miss..."

His hands slipped under your shirt and kept massaging your body slowly, warming it up. You didn't really speak, still unsure how to respond to the situation. The man whose life you tried to ruin was in your apartment, being intimate with you, and you were... Well, you were a willing participant.

Charles roamed your body with his fingers, keeping it pretty civil for now, and you tilted your head up again, brushing your nose against his slightly, making him smile at you.

"I have to say, you were more fierce yesterday. This is not an unpleasant change," he whispered tenderly. "I suppose you can be quite nice if you want to."

You grabbed his wrists and slowly guided his hands to your breasts, placing them around the round tissue.

"Oh, generous even," he added, but he did not tease you further and kept massaging instead.

"Should I get this off?" Charles asked after a while, referring to the large shirt you were wearing. You nodded without hesitating much, making him take the shirt off your body with ease. His hands were immediately back on your skin, this time enveloping your hips with their warmth.You reached for his shirt, taking it off as well. He gently guided you to the couch, carefully pushing you on the soft cushions.

"You're a bit like a wild cat, ma déesse," he whispered with a hint of satisfaction. "It is very difficult to tame you, and even if one succeeds, you still remain wonderfully independent and fierce."

You rolled your eyes a bit at the compliment but did not stop him from undressing you further, giggling a bit as he struggled with taking his trousers off. Charles gave you a warning look, though he couldn't help but smirk as well.

"Watch out, little miss, or I might lose my temper," he whispered.

"Do you ever?" you asked, looking up at him, as he crawled on top of you. "Were those frowns every time you heard about a new article all feigned?"

"Oh, I was not frowning about the articles." Charles chuckled, pressing soft kisses on your neck. "I just think some of the... labels you gave me were a bit harsh. I don't think I'm a 'filthy lecher who feasts on the weak,' to be quite honest."

"Fine, maybe I am a bit... passionate at times." You admitted with a sigh, as he continued leaving gentle pecks on her body, trailing them down towards her chest, "...You're still a jerk."

"Sure I am." He beamed, his shiny eyes glancing up into yours, before he focused on cherishing you again. He was careful, almost as if he worried about damaging you. You took him for someone who liked it rough, yet right now it seemed like he was prioritising your pleasure over his.

You sighed again as his mouth started inching closer to your abdomen before passing in and hovering above her temple.

"Are you ready, little miss?" he asked, and without really waiting for a response, he leaned down, pressing his mouth directly to your clit. He wasn't hesitant; he dove right in, beginning to suck on your labia, eliciting soft moans from your mouth.

Charles took his time, licking and sucking on the outside, before slowly pushing his mouth further, penetrating your cunt with his tongue. The man had skill; he turned into a panting, whimpering mess in a matter of minutes.

Before he brought you to a climax, he pulled away carefully, glancing at you with a grin.

"It's okay, you can come over my face later," he whispered, massaging your hip, as you glanced down at him, your face flushed.

"Do you want to feel me inside, ma déesse?"

You nodded, almost squirming from the tension he built up in your body. He kept watching your expression as he positioned his hard shaft at your entrance, teasing it a little bit, before slowly but surely pushing it in.

You slowly got used to the sensation, letting out small moans and whimpers at the sensation. You closed your eyes, savouring the experience, before pulling him into your arms, making his dick go deeper and causing him to groan in pleasure.

He was so careful with you, as if afraid to break you, to damage you. You would never take him for someone gentle; you assumed he liked it rough. But right now, he seemed to be containing himself for you.

"You don't have to be gentle with me. I'm not made out of glass." you whispered, after letting out another moan. "I want to feel you everywhere."

At your words, his restraint seemed to weaken; his gentle strokes grew into desperate thrusts, the pace quickening significantly. You were now moaning at every move, your body responding to his affections perfectly.

You could not help but admire the way he looked, his brown hair illuminated by the warm light seeping from a lamp placed on the coffee table, his green eyes that usually resembled spring leaves, now looking more like a shadowy forest. Small beads formed on his forehead as he kept a quick pace, sliding his cock in and out of you.

Soon, he reached his high, painting your inner walls white, before sliding out of you, his dick now limp. He tried not to collapse on you, but you simply pulled him in, making him lie on top of your body. You both breathed heavily, spent after the intense sex.

Your mind was analysing the situation now. In the past hours, your opinion on Charles changed significantly. He was still a dick and a bad man, but you couldn't deny the want you felt for him. It might have transcended sexual desire alone.

Charles clearly felt something for you as well; he knew better than to hope that sleeping with you would make you stop writing about him. He was tender, affectionate... It was unclear what he wanted for you. But after a couple more moments of thinking, you decided to let it go for now, choosing to enjoy the presence of the man you seemed to hate just yesterday.

Suddenly, you giggled, making him look up at you questioningly.

"Did you really memorise every insult I have written about you?" you asked, looking at him tenderly. He smiled as well, nuzzling his face into your chest. It wasn't in a sexual way; it seemed that he was simply yearning to be close to you, to stay in this moment, in this apartment, for as long as possible.

"Maybe not every single one, but I remember most of them." Charles murmured, with his face buried in your chest.

You smiled again, deciding that talking about what this evening meant for you two could happen some other time. For now, you wanted to keep him in your arms for as long as possible.

...And maybe a few kisses, you thought, as you gently grabbed his chin and leaned in, kissing him on the lips. He reciprocated immediately, taking the lead and pouring his affection for you into the gesture, leaving you breathless.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" You asked, making his eyes light up like a little child's.

"I would love to." Charles smiled genuinely. Yes, he was a bad man. But his presence was something you grew fond of. In a matter of a day, you found yourself infatuated with the golden boy that you mocked.

"Maybe I should have suggested breakfast as well," you spoke, pulling him in for another kiss.

#f1 imagines #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic

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vershautece · 23 hours ago

Note

u not liking the stretch marks u got during ur pregnancy but they make lu go feral

yessss he would make sure u know how perfect u are, you’d start feeling insecure during sex and he’d hate that

imagine you’ve just got on top to ride him but you look down at yourself and remember about your stretch marks: ‘um lu i don’t know if im in the mood actually’ and you go to get off of him but he pulls you back onto his lap

‘hey? what’s wrong, you were just all over me?’ he’s looking up at you concerned

‘um yeah i don’t know, it’s just-’

his hands are rubbing softly over your hips, and you look down at the stretch marks there, feeling bad that you don’t look as good as you did before your pregnancy. you have some on your inner thighs and your boobs, and of course on your stomach - yesterday you guys had sex for the first time since you gave birth, but it was in the dark so you didn’t mind. now he can see the marks all over you, and you desperately want to cover yourself and not bother him.

‘hm? what is it, baby girl? are you still not ready to start having sex? i only instigated it because you seemed happy last night’ he’s still looking up at you with worry in his eyes, and you lean forward into him, wrapping your arms around his neck while he wraps his arms tight around your waist. he kisses your cheek and waits for you to answer

‘i didn’t wanna say anything because i’m embarrassed, but uh, i’m not really in the mood because i feel bad that i’m, y’know, not at my best for you’

‘baby, what do you mean? you were fucking amazing for me last night, i thought i told you clear enough’ he laughs, his hands drifting down to grip your ass. all you can think about is how you’re on top of him and if you lean back again he’ll be able to see every single one of the marks on your skin

‘yeah, i mean i don’t look my best, y’know?’ you get embarrassed just telling him this, anxiously playing with the curls on the nape of his neck. as soon as you say this he gently moves your head back to look into your eyes, while you try to look away. ‘huh? what do you mean? amore - look at me’

you make eye contact with him, and the way he’s looking up at you with so much concern has you melting. ‘my stretch marks, they’re literally all over my body’ you sigh, going forward to rest on his chest again so he can’t see them. ‘yeah, and what? hey - baby, stop hiding your pretty body from me, sit back up properly’ he speaks to you in that deep, honeyed voice, shifting you so you’re sat back up on him again

‘lu stop it i know i don’t look good, that’s what happens after pregnancy, it doesn’t matter’ you sigh, and he clenches his jaw at the way you speak about yourself. one of his hands rubs at your right hip, the other moving to play with the fingers on your left hand. ‘i don’t wanna hear you talk that way about yourself, okay? you have these marks because you carried and gave birth to our baby, and there is nothing sexier to me than making love to the mother of my child. you understand?’ he doesn’t break eye contact with you, and when you try to look away he uses one of his hands to turn your face to him. ‘c’mere’ he whispers, bringing your lips to his and caressing your waist. when he pulls away, he smirks at you: ‘you didn’t even give me time to play with those perfect breasts’, now he’s pressing kisses down your neck, ‘tell you how gorgeous they are… grip your waist and hips, press kisses along your stomach down to your thighs…’ you’re starting to rock your hips onto him now, getting back in the mood as he praises you, your wetness dripping onto his hardening cock, hands pulling at his curls.

‘te amo, bellissima. you gonna let me show you how perfect you are for me?’ he stops kissing your neck to look up at you. ‘mhmmm, yeah, thank you baby’ you moan, humping his erection. he laughs at you softly: ‘i knew you were in the mood, my love. c’mon, let me make you feel good - gonna give you this cock every day from now on, it’s been too long and i need to treat my beautiful girl, need to get your perfect body to cum for me’

‘i love you, luigi - mm - i’m so lucky to have you’ you’re rocking yourself even more desperately on him, as you grip his cock to guide it inside. but he holds your wrist to stop you: ‘hey, not yet, let me eat you out first.’

‘mm, luigi, do that after, i’m so desperate for you, baby - and you can touch all of me in this position. god, i need you to fuck me, please’ you’re whining on top of him, and he laughs as he holds your left hip in one hand and guides his cock into your pussy with the other. ‘so much for someone who wasn’t in the mood, hm? you know you were being so stupid, dolcezza’ he whispers, pushing in the tip. you moan out loudly, and he laughs. ‘shhh, you’re gonna wake our baby. and that’s just the tip, my love’

‘mmm, so big lu’ you whine, gripping his shoulders. ‘oh i know, i know, mhm’ he coos. ‘it’s a good thing she was at your mom’s yesterday when i basically took your virginity again, you were screaming for me all night’ he laughs softly. you’re still struggling today though, and you bite your lip to try to stop the sounds. ‘i’m gonna rub your clit while i push in slowly, okay?’

‘mhm’ you moan in response, and he starts to draw teasingly slow circles on your bundle of nerves as he gradually pushes the rest of himself in you and bottoms out. he groans at the feeling, and your eyes roll into the back of your head as you whimper. while he gives you time to adjust, his attention turns to your breasts, pressing soft kisses around your areolas without sucking on your nipples because unfortunately for him, they’re for your baby right now. ‘so fuckin’ pretty… you don’t think these marks are sexy?’ he mutters against your skin, drifting his fingers over your stretch marks before gripping both of your breasts tightly and kneading them in his big hands.

‘lu, mmm, be careful, i might leak’ you moan, and he smiles up at you with a slight smirk, moving his hands to your ass. ‘it’s okay if you do, it’s natural - you ready for me to move? i’ll do all the work for you, just want you to rest on my cock while i thrust up into that pussy, yeah?’

‘yes, that’s fine baby’ you grip his shoulders so tight in anticipation, and he plants his feet on the bed, bends his knees and starts his thrusts, setting a steady pace. ‘mm, luigi, fuck’

‘that feel good, hm? yeah, baby girl? takin’ it so well’ he groans, squeezing your ass and moving his head to get a better look at it. ‘gonna show you that ass in the mirror later, those marks make you look even sexier than you did before - i didn’t think it was possible, mm’ his thrusts get faster now, and he smacks your ass lightly. you squeal, and he chuckles and reminds you to be quiet: ‘sh, princess, remember she’s asleep in the next room’

‘how am i supposed to stay quiet when you fuck me like this, mmm’ you’re breathless and you’re not even bouncing; his thrusts are hitting your g spot perfectly and it’s too much to take already

‘we’re gonna have to start practicing staying quiet for our girl ‘cause i need to start fucking you every night again like we used to’ he lands another soft smack on your ass, and you drag your hand down to play with your clit but he moves it away swiftly and replaces it with his own. ‘bella ragazza, i’m still doing everything for you at least for the next two weeks, mhm? you just take my cock, let me make you feel good, that’s it baby girl’ his fore and middle finger work so perfectly on your sensitive clit, and you’re so in love with how he treats you that you instinctively lean forward to make out with him. your tongues meet, and you moan into each other’s mouths, the pace of lu’s fingers and his thrusts never faltering. the hand on your ass comes up to caress your cheek as you kiss, and after a couple minutes he pulls away, feeling your walls clench around him.

‘oh, amore mio, you gonna cum for me, yeah? lay on my chest, baby’ he pauses his thrusts for a moment as he lies down just a little so you can lay on him - he’s still sat up slightly to continue pounding up into you. when he resumes his thrusts you’re biting your lip so hard so your daughter doesn’t hear, fingers tight in his curls and you’re getting extra stimulation from the way your breasts are pressing against his chest, rubbing up and down his pectorals with the pace of his thrusts.

‘luigi, fuck, baby’ you’re a moaning mess, and you start to feel your boobs lactate a small amount onto his chest. you feel a little embarrassed, but you know he wouldn’t mind and it’s his fault for stimulating your body so well. his hands are gripping your ass tight, smoothing his fingers over the stretch marks there and on your hips as he thrusts up into you impossibly faster.

‘i love you my princess, cum for me - you’re so beautiful, love feeling you’ he whispers into your ear as he moves one hand to caress your hair and the side of your face, pressing sweet kisses on your forehead. when you’re both getting so close, he wraps his arms around your waist protectively and you can hear his soft grunts in your ear. you’re so desperate for your release that you’re rocking your hips back onto his cock, moaning into his neck. ‘i love you, lu, you’re everything to me’ your words get muffled against his skin

‘dolcezza, you’re the perfect mama - wanna give you my last name, give you more of my babies’ his grunts and soft whines directly in your ear paired with his words and his thrusts have you feeling like you’re in heaven

‘i want that so bad, mm, baby, i’m gonna cum’ you’re so fucked out against him, your words coming out incoherently.

‘yeah, me too princess, aw c’mon, we gonna start making another baby, huh? want me to keep fucking you raw every night? i love your body so much’

you’re so glad you’re pressed against his chest so your moans are muffled because otherwise you’d be screaming. ‘yeah i want your cum, oh please lu, give it to me, oh god i’m g-’ you cut yourself off with a strangled moan as you get your release, and moments later you feel his hot cum spill inside you, a loud groan leaving his throat. you’re both breathing heavily for a while, playing with each other’s hair. you’re so cosy on his chest, and you don’t ever want to move. ‘baby, don’t pull out’ you mutter into his neck, and he smiles: ‘you want my cum so deep, huh?’ you both giggle, and he continues whispering to you: ‘hold on, i’m serious now, amore - do you really want another baby so soon? i’ll get you plan b and we can start using protection again - i’m not pressuring you, beautiful. i wanna have more kids but it doesn’t have to be anytime soon’

you pull away from his chest a little to look into his eyes, caressing his curls. ‘luigi, i don’t mind. after going through the first pregnancy i know i’m ready for another baby whenever you are. they say that after giving birth you forget about the pain and you just want to do it all over again’

he smiles down at you: ‘that’s great baby but i don’t think i’m gonna let you get pregnant just 3 months after giving birth - let’s wait, i’ll just start pulling out cause i’m never making you go on birth control’

your heart melts at his words, and then you smirk at the last part. ‘you sure you’re gonna pull out every time? i don’t believe that’

he raises his brows at you: ‘what, you don’t think i can? you’ll see i have more self control than you think’

‘mmmkay we’ll revisit this conversation tomorrow’ you roll your eyes playfully, resting back on his chest again, and you giggle to yourself knowing your man is going to struggle like hell to pull out of you in time every single night :3

#vershautece inbox #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione smut #vershautece one shots

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saessenach · 2 days ago

Text

Thinking many thoughts about Miss Andarateia Cantori tonight because what do you mean we get to be in her house for the entire game, in which she and her boyfriend/partner-in-crime run a gambling den, assassin guild ANd find the time to argue with the public administration while opposing a military occupation?? who does it like her??

Joke aside, I think she's an incredibly fun character, and I'm really happy that hers was the lens through which we saw the Crows this game. Whenever I see random posts and critiques commenting that the Crows were too "sanitised" or "found-family", I want to yell a bit, because DATV never claims that to be the case!! Obviously everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but what we see is anchored in a very specific context: not just Treviso under Antaam occupation, but also the Cantori Diamond, which falls under Teia's jurisdiction.

She's an elven orphan turned Guildmaster and Talon, who desperately wanted to find family in the Crows! While the other Talons resisted her attempts at every step (some more succesfully than others ksks), that implies 1) her approach towards her own House was probably not dissimilar and 2) it got her the Talon position in her 20s. Ergo, her modus operandi was probably fairly successful.

For all that she threatens to evict anyone who treats her like a landlord (lol), the Diamond is very much a reflection of her as a character. It's all completely in line with both her general characterisation in 8 Little Talons and with the point she reaches at the end of that story when confronting Emil. I don't think it's a coincidence that out of our two POVs in 8LT, she's the one discussing Crow ideology with their would-be-murderer:

and

Following this particular set-up, of course orphans like Jacobus are treated kindly; of course fledglings have time to gossip in quiet corners while training; of course she helps the Dellamortes however she can?? She decided these people are family to her, and she wants to do better by them than what she got. This is wildly compelling to me personally, because she's such a delightful mix of idealism and disillusionment, honesty and manipulation, compassion and retribution - and she's so fucking obstinate about it!!!

There's also the little connection with the Crows' beginnings, specifically in Treviso. Iirc, it's mentioned in 8LT that her base is Rialto (she's also got gardens there), so a part of me wonders whether the Diamond was an inherited property from a previous Cantori Talon, or whether she got it up and running between then and the events of the game. I think that between that little tibdbit and with Lucanis being named First Talon at the end of the game, it's pretty obvious that the theme of rebirth is very much the point in the Crows' plotline - a messy, hopeful and spiteful rebirth.

All of this is to say, what we get doesn't at all negate the other aspects we've seen from the Crows in previous games, but rather puts them into perspective. The game just goes on to ask - isn't there another way to do this? what else is there room for us to be? is there any chance we might find some kindness in this world? and one of the ways these answers are explored is through Teia's character (we start this series with Zevran's story within the Antivan Crows - an elven orphan bought from a brothel, who doesn't have the power to change this guild, and end with Lucanis, Viago and Teia, who is, specifically, an elven orphan picked up (?) from the streets, who remains one of the powerhouses of the organisation. I love a bit of narrative symmetry ✨)

And honestly, I find this entire thing delightful - it's cheeky and dramatic and a lot of fun, and it makes sense for these characters, if you only sit with it for a second and give it a bit of thought!

(PS the way she draws Viago into her orbit and the way their partnership works is another rant entirely, and they drive me absolutely insane nghhh)

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flwrkid14 · 2 days ago

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I was reading the two posts about Tim's Christmas list, and just thought of the Bat Family noticing how happy Tim is.

Maybe Damian sees the new brushes and asks why Tim has Stephanie's things?

"Oh no, those aren't her's. They're mine. Danny got them for me cause they were on my list. I've needed a new set for a few years, but I only remember when I'm on a mission and needs to use them. Isn't he so sweet? And he got me really good quality ones, too!"

Or Jason mocking Tim for finally getting new hoodies. And instead of huffing or quipping back, Tim just brightens. Smiling in a way Jason's never seen.

"Danny got them for me! They're so soft. There's some of my favorite gifts from him! It's honestly nice to have new clothes that aren't formal. I'm so happy he read my list." And kinda just bounces away.

Maybe Bruce asking if Tim finally got new cups for his office?

"Danny's so sweet, isn't he? He found my list for Christmas and decided to get me a few mugs and thermoses. It's great I don't have to worry about accidentally cutting my mouth open again." 😊

Or Stephanie (who was injured on patrol and Tim's Nest, with apartment on top, was the closest place she could get to.) commenting on the fact that Tim has a lot of blankets, pillows, and plushies.

"Danny got them for me for Christmas I love how soft and warm everything is. He even found a plushie of a sleeping ghost! It's weighted, has a heating feature, and is made of glow in the dark fabric. Matter of fact, almost all the plushies and blankets he got me were weighted! Just like I had written on my list. They make me feel so loved. After all, he wants me to feel warm and safe, what's more considerate than that?"

Cass looks for Tim, knowing he's staying in the manor overnight because of a gala the next day. She hears music coming from the bathroom, but the light isn't on. So she goes in to turn it off, just in case Tim accidentally left it on. Only to see that there is a light on. A music box made to look like a record player spinning a vinyl, projecting blue light to look like you were underwater. Tim was in the bathtub, with the music box on the rim.

After the kerfuffle of them realizing Cass walked in on Tim taking a bath, and Tim getting dressed quickly, Cassandra asks him where he got it? It's cute and sounds really nice.

"Oh, it's a gift from Danny. He gave me it for Christmas. He knows I like cute things like that. And it's nice to listen to. He even got me this cat eared fluffy hairband for when I do my skincare or makeup! So cute, right?" 🥰

And slowly, all of them realize they never got Tim what he wanted. They try to justify it by saying he put tech on the list, but they look back through past lists and realize Tim changed his list because no one ever got him what he put on the list.

omg, I love your take on my posts! Your writing is so good! And you're absolutely right—the batfamily realizing their oversight and coming to terms with is such an interesting angle to explore! I like the way you went about it, especially all the times Tim kept mentioning the items were from his list!!

That said, I also wanted to address something that a lot of people were frustrated about when reading my original post.. many were upset with the family for not reading Tim’s list, wondering if they lost it or ignored it on purpose. I realize I didn’t provide enough context on my post for how the list actually functions!

The christmas lists in the batfamily aren’t necessarily meant to be followed to the letter—they’re more of a reference in case someone doesn’t know what to get. For example, Damian’s interests are pretty well known (art supplies, things for his animals, weapons), so most of the family can buy him something without needing to check his list. But for someone like Alfred or Bruce, where their preferences might be harder to pin down, the list serves as a guide.

With Tim, the family assumes they already know what he likes. They don’t think they need to check his list because, in their minds, they already understand him. So they keep giving him things they know he uses—cameras, electronics, hard drives—without realizing he already has more than enough. It’s not necessarily neglectful; it’s just a blind spot.

Danny, on the other hand, actually looks at the list. Not only because he wants to get Tim the best gifts possible, but because he lives with him. He sees what Tim already has in abundance and what he’s been meaning to get for himself but keeps putting off. That’s why his gifts are so thoughtful—he pays attention in a way the others don’t.

I hope this explanation helps clarify things for those who were confused or frustrated!!

#thanks for the ask <3 #I kept seeing people pissed off at the bats and realized my mistake oops #hopefully this makes it a little more understandable!

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rainytapestry · 2 days ago

Text

⭑｡𖦹°‧ㅤㅤBLUE ㅤ— ㅤㅤjay x f.reader ㅤㅤ wc 0.7k

where your boyfriend always knows a way to make your worries melt away

★ — hurt/comfort angst estd. relation fluff academic pressure :( jay being the sweetest bf

you looked at all the books and notes spread out in front of you, and the painfully waiting cursor of the blank document, as if urging you to start the assignment. but it felt… all too much, too overwhelming for you to even think about your pending works.

and before you knew it, a tear dropped down on the page, staining your messy handwriting. good here it goes again. you were tired of feeling tensed and worried about your studies.

your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rapid knocks and the bell. you turned to look at the time, 11pm. who could it even be at this late hour?

sighing, you got up to open the door before the person could ring the bell once more, only to be met with a very familiar face.

‘jay...? what are you doing here at this hour?’ you asked, unsure of how to approach the fact that your boyfriend was in front of your apartment at near midnight. the said boy who was standing quite tensed your doorstep, visibly frowned upon seeing you

‘yn, i was worried tensed! why did you not pick up my calls? you even left me on seen?! do you know how stressful that was? wait, are you…’ he trailed, finally getting a proper look at your face.

oh shit you had forgotten that your tears hadn't dried yet and he was met with a red and blotchy face.

jay quickly stepped into the apartment, his hands going up to your face, softly holding them.

‘what… happened?’ his voice was laced with concern. ‘uh, you were worried, for me?’ you refused to meet his eyes.

‘of course, babe! you are usually so active and present but all i have got are just a few messages and no calls, i thought you were sick!’ and his eyes held this earnest look, that almost made you want to start sobbing again.

as if sensing your emotions, he engulfed you in a hug and before you knew it, you were in his arms, tearing up yet again, your forehead resting on his shoulder.

‘i… i– i am sick, of this work and study and…’ you spoke through your tears, ‘jay, i don't think i can do this anymore, i feel so-so tired, it's…’ you could feel him rub small soothing circles on your back, nodding to your every word and never interrupting you, as if you could vent out all the frustration and pressure you had building in you.

the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, slowly calmed you down as you broke apart to look up at him, with a small pout. you mumbled a small sorry.

jay broke out in a smile, caressing your cheek, ‘it's okay, yn, you've been so strong and dedicated. it’s okay to let yourself catch a break, hm? it's okay to feel sad and unmotivated sometimes, right? because i know you can do it.’

‘b-but i’ ‘ssh, i trust you.’ and maybe that was all you needed to hear.

you could feel a small smile form on your face, heart a lot lighter than it had been a few minutes ago. and you couldn't thank jay enough for it.

‘okayyy now let's see how my girlfriend is doing, secluding herself like a saint, tell me the last time you had eaten, yn?’ he questioned you in a serious tone. you knew how serious he could get if you neglected your meals.

‘eh, yesterday i think…?’ ‘i'm pretty sure it was ramen.’ you guiltily nodded.

jay shook his head, not surprised but placed a firm kiss on your forehead. ‘ok, so, you, my girl, are going to sit down and relax while i make you something healthy and edible to eat. okay?’ he said, more like commanded.

you blushed at his actions before following him to the kitchen.

it was a common routine you both had fallen into, jay would cook, you would, well… try to assist.

and even though, jay protested about you helping him, you shrugged him off, just happy to spend time with your boyfriend.

‘and from now on, yn, please don't ghost me like this. i'm always here for you, love’, whispered close to your ears, pressing another small kiss to your cheek.

NOTES. hi i wrote this down cuz of the high level of procrastination and unproductivity ive been having despite my finals starting in a month :( it isnt the best feeling and i for anyone else who's going through the same, don't worry we'll get through this rough patch together >< tysm for reading this

div cttoㅤㅤ work belong to @ rainytapestry do not steal

#r★ㅤworks ~#enhypen scenarios #jay x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen jay #park jeongseong #jay fanfic #jay imagines #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen smau #jay enhypen #jay enha

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shawtylex09 · 2 days ago

Text

⋆˙⟡ Falling. Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader ⟡⋆˙

⋆.˚✮Valentine’s Day story 3/14✮˚.⋆

I feel like cavetown is Izuku’s fav artist, so here you go, one of my fav songs from them.

Enjoy lovelies✧˖°.

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

Izuku had no idea how he’d gotten to this point. He had no idea how he ended up here.

See, the thing was, Izuku was a fanboy at heart, and whenever he met someone with an amazing quirk or charming personality, he wanted to know more about them, and part of himself admired that person.

But this was different, and he didn’t know what it was.

He thought it was just admiring one of his friends, then he tried to blame his fanboy tendencies, but that never seemed to quell the flutter in his heart when you looked his way.

Whenever you so much as glanced at him, and gave him that toothy grin with your pearly whites, Izuku’s knees weakened and he found himself (sometimes literally) tripping over himself.

The worst part? He didn’t understand why.

Izuku was usually much better at handling his emotions or at least coming to realize his stance on things, but you flipped that on its head. It’s not like he had any problems with you! In fact, quite the opposite. He loved being around you, the casual way you two would make beaded bracelets and talk about nothing in particular made him feel at home.

The way you listened as he ranted about some video game or how you would ask him genuine questions about the hero he was talking about- he didn’t feel like a burden with you.

Izuku felt like you saw him for who he was, more than just a nerd and more than just a fanboy. He felt heard, he felt cared about.

He truly didn’t think much of the hugs, the affectionate ways you’d toy with his curls, the way you’d lean against him in the commons, or how you’d hold his hand as the two of you walked down the halls at school.

It wasn’t his fault he was so…oblivious, after all, he had no experience with girls, so he just figured this was one of the ways girls showed their value of their friends, he had seen you hug Mina, kissing each other on the cheek as you greeted each other, so maybe it was normal?

Izuku nodded to himself, it was definitely normal behavior, and it wasn’t like he was complaining, he didn’t exactly have a problem with you hugging around his middle, resting your head against him as you enjoyed the movie playing in the commons.

He lazily ran his fingers through your hair, not too focused on the movie as he thought about why his heart still sped up a bit thanks to your cuddling into his side.

Maybe he was just happy to have you around? But then why did his stomach flutter so lightly?

Izuku sighed softly and looked down at you, smiling a bit as he saw your head resting against his right peck, his arm around you and a blanket draped over your shoulders as his fingers combed through your silky locks.

He faintly felt his cheeks heat up as you closed your eyes, pressing your face to the muscle of his chest and letting out a heavy sigh, your eyes closed as you drank in his affection.

Izuku’s heart stuttered in his chest, and he felt a surge of affection wash over him. He smiled softly, feeling so incredibly lucky to have a friend like you trust him the way you did. It meant a lot to Izuku.

He was snapped out of his daze by your soft hum, and gentle voice. “Hey..Izuku?” You asked softly, your eyes half lidded and obviously tired. It made sense, the training from that day left a lot of the class worn and wary.

He felt his heart skip a beat. Your face was so cute-

What..? Cute..?

What a silly thought.

“Yeah?” He blinked away the odd thought that popped into his mind, smiling down at you warmly and trying to quell away the questionable blush on his cheeks.

You yawned and rested your head against the smooth plane of his shoulder “do you think you could walk me to my room?” You asked, your tone tired and soft.

Izuku smiled a little. In all honesty, he’d pretty much do anything you needed, and often he found himself a bit too eager to assist you. Need help carrying something? Izuku would offer. Did you need some help on the homework? Borrow Izuku’s notes. Need someone to rub your back? Izuku’s hands work the best.

He didn’t have a real reason why he loved assisting you, he didn’t feel like you were using his kindness for your personal gain, because he knew how much he meant to you (at least he thought he knew), and you knew how much you meant to him.

“Oh! Sure N/n, are you wanting to go now?” He asked, his cheeks warming slightly as you smiled up at him, the bleary look on your face rather.. no no no, not again, Izuku.

You nodded and yawned, tightening your arms around his middle “yeah..I’m getting pretty tired and am probably ready for bed..” you said quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone else who might have been watching the movie.

He felt that feeling rise in his chest once again, offering a nod to try and distract himself from the giddy feeling. “Kay, I’ll walk you. Cmon sleepyhead” he said softly, standing from the couch and gently taking your hand. Why did your touch always feel like the most pleasant electricity?

Kirishima looked up from his spot on the couch, his fingers slowly combing through Bakugou’s blonde locks. “Where are you goin’, Midoriya? You guys aren’t leaving already, are you?”

Izuku smiled and chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his neck as you sighed and wrapped your arms around his waist lazily.

“Oh, N/n is feeling tired, I’m gonna take her to her room and I’ll be back out when she gets laid down” he explained, gesturing to your clingy and tired form, basically asleep on your feet while holding onto him.

Kirishima nodded slowly, his mouth making a small ‘o’ shape in realization “oh, I see” he chuckled a bit and smiled up at Midoriya “okay cool, come back out whenever you’re done.”

Izuku nodded and looked down at you “cmon N/n, let’s get you laid down, sleepy head” he murmured, an affectionate smile on his face.

As the two of you walked out of the commons, Kirishima sighed and smiled “Midoriya is so manly.” He commented, glancing to where they disappeared, before looking back to the group.

Mina raised a brow “what do you mean?” She asked from her place on the other couch, Uraraka also glancing up, her attention caught by mentioning her friend.

Kirishima shrugged as he gently petted Bakugou’s blonde locks, the sleeping boy slouched against the redhead “I dunno, he just is such a good boyfriend, you know? He’s taking his girlfriend to bed, making sure she gets there without any problems. Seems like a gentleman to me.”

Mina blinked, before laughing, bringing a hand up to her mouth to stifle her laughter.

Kirishima raised a confused brow and looked to Uraraka, who was also smiling and giggling a little. “What’s so funny? I don’t get it?” He mumbled, glancing between both girls.

Mina paused her giggles long enough to get a sentence out “they’re not dating.” She managed to get out, letting out a breath as her lungs caught up from her laughter.

Kirishima blinked and gaped. Izuku and yourself weren’t dating!? How the hell was that even possible? The two of you were literally cuddling right next to him, the way he was cuddling with Bakugou. His boyfriend.

“Wait..are you being serious?” He asked, to which Mina and Uraraka nodded “yeah, Deku isn’t really good with social interactions, in a sense that he has no idea Y/n is crushing on him. He thinks it’s casual.” Uraraka explained with an exasperated sigh.

Kirishima let out a huff of laughter, then shook his head “oh great, so he has no idea that Y/n is falling for him? Lovely. Should we tell him? Or tell her to tell him?”

Mina shook her head and smiled, waving off his concern with a lazy hand “nah, don’t worry about them, I’ve got a feeling they’ll figure it out..” she glanced off to the hallway where the two of you walked off, a reassuring feeling warming her chest.

✮˚.⋆

You and Izuku slowly walked to your dorm, the walk was filled with comfortable silence and the occasional comment. Your hand was in his, and your blanket was draped over your shoulders.

You glanced at him, seeing him smiling to himself about who knows what.

A sigh left your lips, and a deadpan formed on your lips. You’d been trying to express your crush on Izuku since the sports festival, but the boy was more focused on his dreams of becoming a hero than he was on getting a girlfriend.

You smiled a little and rolled your eyes as the two of you walked side by side, hand in hand. You were sick of his ignorance, and so tonight you were determined to make it obvious to the boy that you liked him.

The two of you approached your dorm, where Izuku stopped in front of your door and turned to you, a smile on his lips “here you are, Y/n. Are you gonna get some sleep?”

You nodded and yawned, rubbing your eye with one hand, using the other to loosely wave him off “don’t worry, Zuku, I’ll get some rest.” You smiled at him sleepily and stepped forward, wrapping your arms around his middle in a warm embrace, which he happily returned.

“Good, you pushed yourself during training today, I’m very proud of you” he said softly, his hand on the small of your back and the plane between your shoulder blades.

You blushed and smiled, closing your eyes and basking in his praise “thank you Izuku…that means so much coming from you..” you murmured, your cheek resting on his shoulder.

He felt that feeling flutter in his chest again, to which he blushed a little, smiling as he spoke “please, you saying that, sounds like I’m some pro hero” he mumbled bashfully

You scoffed and clung to him a little tighter. This idiot was either down playing how strong and amazing he was, or genuinely didn’t think he was anything special. Both were not great scenarios, in your opinion.

You huffed and rolled your eyes “you’re practically as strong as one” you grumbled into his shoulder.

Izuku simply smiled, knowing how you loved to compliment and uplift his work and progress. He didn’t like to admit it, but hearing you praise him, actually made his blood rush to his face and his confidence swell.

The two of you stood like that, before Izuku reluctantly pulled away “I’m gonna go back to the commons, okay?” He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder “please get some rest, and if you need anything, call me.”

You paused.

You’d totally forgotten how you were going to make your crush a bit more obvious to him.

He bid you goodnight, and you dumbly replied, your brain on autopilot as you began to panic.

You were gonna miss your opportunity!

“Hey Izuku!” You called out after he made it about halfway down the hall.

He turned and raised a brow “yeah? Did you need something?” He asked, his head tilting to the side like an intrigued puppy.

You trotted up to him and grabbed his hand, standing on your tippy toes to do the first thing your brain thought of.

Your lips met with his cheek, the smooth skin feeling so perfect under your touch.

Izuku stiffened and erupted into a bright red blush.

He watched as you pulled from his cheek and smiled warmly at him. “Goodnight, Izuku..get some sleep” you spun on your heel and bolted to your dorm, quickly dashing into your room.

Izuku placed a hand on his cheek and watched with a dumbfounded expression as you ran back to your room.

He finally understood what that feeling in his chest was.

It was falling in love.

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

Literally SPEED typing so I can get this out on the 3rd and not the 4th I procrastinated AAA

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the-witty-pen-name · 2 days ago

Text

Everything that I Wanted (1)

Eddie Munson x F!Reader / Billy Hargrove x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Synopsis: Love triangle between your best friend Eddie and your first boyfriend, Billy Hargrove that spans over many years as you get everything you think you ever wanted. However, your life doesn’t play out how you expected it, starting from the first time you’re asked out on a date.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; sexual themes, language, depictions of a toxic relationship (manipulation & isolation from peers)

A/N: Comments & Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know what you think! Thank you so much @munsonsmixtapes @punkrockmlchael @keeryhours for letting me talk to you about this fic ilysm

You were so excited, practically sprinting down the hallways towards the cafeteria. Your bag hits against your back at every step. You feel like you’re on top of the world. You can’t remember the last time you were this indescribably happy. You felt like you could practically float.

Walking into the cafeteria, you take your usual seat with the rest of Hellfire Club, blending in with your matching shirts. You slide into your seat between your best friends- Gareth and Edde. You take a moment to catch your breath as you shrug off your backpack.

Gareth has been best friends with you since middle school, and you both became best friends with Eddie when you met him your freshman year, when he was a sophomore. You were inseparable from the entirety of Hellfire, but you and Eddie were very close.

“What’s got you so worked up? Eddie asked, noticing how flustered you seemed to be when you all but fell into your seat. A smile spreads across his face, like it usually does, at your antics. Amusement is apparent in his eyes as he observes you- you never seem to notice how he looks at you like that.

“I just got asked out,” you squeal, unable to contain your excitement. You couldn’t believe it had actually happened. It was something you had come to accept would never happen to you. But suddenly, it’s like the world has opened itself up to you. You were so happy, giddy and lovesick already getting swooped up in the romance of it all.

Gareth congratulates you, happy for you as he pats your back. His eyes drift to Eddie, and the two exchange a knowing look. It was Hellfire’s best kept secret how Eddie felt about you. Everyone except you knew how Eddie was pretty much in love with you and has been, since the two of you met. It was obvious to all of your friends- except to you.

You didn’t think you were the type any guy would notice. You were never the one that guys tended to see. It was something you longed for, you craved to be noticed- to be truly seen. You’d wanted to experience everything that you felt you were missing. You wanted the high school experience of your first date, your first kiss, a cute guy asking for your number. You never thought it was in the cards for you- so when it finally happened, you were overjoyed.

“Who’s the guy?” Jeff asked with an eyebrow raised. You’re taking your lunch out of your bag so you miss the way Jeff looks at Eddie and how Eddie’s shoulder slump dejectedly.

“Billy Hargrove,” you exclaim, your cheeks turning warm remembering back on the events that took place a few moments ago. “The guy with the really cool Camaro,” you gush. You don’t miss how the table falls silent. “What is it?” You ask, your face falling. “I thought you all would be excited for me…”

Gareth clears his throat, the first one in the group willing to speak up. “It’s not that we aren’t happy that you got asked out…,” Gareth begins, making sure to choose his words carefully. “It’s just that… Well, Billy doesn’t have a reputation for being a nice guy…”

Your heart sits heavy in your chest at Gareth’s words. It’s a truth you don’t want to acknowledge. Billy was known to go after every girl, and you knew this. But it just felt so different to you- like maybe you’re the one to be the exception. You wanted to feel wanted so desperately that you can imagine, even if just for a little while, that you’re different. You know deep down that you’re not- but you don’t want to admit it.

“You guys didn’t hear him just now,” you try to explain, coming to his defense. “He was so sweet when it was just us.” He was, he told you everything he knew you wanted to hear- because that was what he was good at. He knew how to get what he wanted, and he read you like the back of a book. Unfortunately, you were longing for something tangible and real- you refused to acknowledge the signs.

“Is it that hard to imagine that he might actually like me?” you ask, your voice failing you as it cracks. “Maybe I’m different- is that so impossible? Am I that undateable?”

The way you speak down about yourself causes Eddie’s heart to beak. He wishes you saw yourself the way he saw you. He holds back so many things he just doesn’t have the courage to say- especially as you seem so wrapped up in Billy Hargrove.

“Sweetheart, it’s not that,” Eddie interjects, before you spiral too much. “You’re amazing- any guy can see that… It’s just Billy- he doesn’t.. He’s just- not the type of guy to want anything serious…”

“He was just trying to butter you up,” Gareth says, more direct and maybe more harsh than he intends to be. “He’ll get what he wants from you and then dump you. He’s only being nice to try to get into your pants- he’s a player and he’s using you.”

Gareth's words sting, because you are so deep in denial and don’t want to accept the truth about Billy. You think that Billy is your only chance to actually date someone- no one else having shown interest in you before.

“Maybe he does want something real, with me,” you say with a hopeful voice. “I already told him yes…” you admit softly, “we’re going to the drive-in on Saturday night. He sounded like he was really excited about it.”

“I’m sure he was,” Eddie says, an underlying bitterness evident in his tone. Grant elbows him, silently telling him to ‘cut it out.’Eddie concedes when he sees how his tone affected you.

“I’d rather put myself out there at the risk of getting hurt than experiencing nothing at all,” you say, pointedly towards Eddie. His eyes widen at the tone, but he knows he deserves it. “Billy is the first guy to ask me out- ever! I don’t know if I’ll get the opportunity again- I’m not exactly the kind of girl guys ever seem to notice. It feels really good when someone does. Sue me.”

Eddie wants to scream, jump on top of the cafeteria table and put on his usual theatrics to tell you how he feels. He’s noticed you, he’s wanted you- he should be the one taking you out, not Billy.

“He said I was the prettiest girl he’s ever seen,” you say, and feel embarrassed as the words roll off your tongue. Your face falls. You think that someone finally likes you. Why couldn’t your friends be happy for you? You get up, leaving your lunch behind as you sling your bag over your shoulder. “I got to go, I wanna get to class early so I can study before my quiz,” you lie, poorly making an excuse so you can get up from the table.

Eddie watches you walk out, and he wishes he had the courage to chase after you. But he didn’t.

“We can’t let her go out with that douchebag,” Gareth states, snapping Eddie out of his thoughts. The table all agrees with Gareth- that they need to talk you out of it. However, Eddie knows you best and your mind is already made up. Nothing that your friends could say would make you change your mind. He was right.

Saturday night rolls around before he knows it, and Eddie is just full of absolute dread. He paces in his room, music blaring. He doesn’t want you to go- he knows how this ends, and all he wants to do is protect you. But- this is what you want, and who is he to deny you that? You wanted the experience- the guy with the cool car, the guy who knew all the right things to say… Eddie couldn’t give you any of that. He felt hopeless.

The sound of the phone startles him, snapping him out of his train of thought.

“Eddie it’s me,” you say, propping the phone receiver up on your elbow so you could hold outfits up to you in the mirror.

“H-hey,” he says, surprised to be hearing from you. “Aren’t you supposed to be out on your date?”

“Not yet. Eddie- I know you hate him. But, I need your opinion on what to wear,” you say, a little frantic and toss another option that you decide is hideous onto the mountain of clothes you’ve made on your bed.

Eddie wipes his face with his hand- this is the last thing he should be doing. He shouldn’t be talking to you about a date with another guy (who’s an asshole by the way), or discussing with you what you should wear to impress him. It hurts too much. For a brief moment, he can’t help but imagine if it were him- would you be calling Gareth for advice? What would you pick out for him? Eddie can’t help it as his mind wanders.

“What are the options?” He asks, knowing it’s better not to fight it. He takes a seat on his bed as he hears you moving hangers around.

“The black dress I wore to Gareth’s birthday party last year- you know, the short-ish one and I’d probably wear my jean jacket with it,” You bite your lip trying to envision the look. Eddie knows exactly which dress you’re referring to, and it makes him want to evaporate. The idea of you wearing that dress for Billy makes his blood boil.

“Might be a little fancy for a movie,” he suggests, being honest but also not disclosing the real reasons why he wouldn’t want you to wear that dress. “What else?”

“I might have another dress,” you muse, looking through your closet. “Uh, maybe not, actually- but, I have my Levi’s and maybe that lace shirt I have that looks like Madonna?”

“Maybe something a little simpler?” He suggests. “Pick something comfortable- you don’t wanna wear something tight for the whole movie.”

“The other idea was my white sweater- the ones with the little heart buttons and maybe my jean skirt? I could wear my Chucks with it…”

“I think that’s the one you should go with,” Eddie says, honestly. He knows that outfit well- it’s one that you wear a lot. Secretly, it’s always been one of his favorites, but he’ll never admit it out loud.

“Thanks, Eddie,” you reply and Eddie can hear you smile through the phone. He thinks his heart might beat completely out of his chest. “Can I call you when I get home after?” you ask, a little apprehensive. There’s an unspoken tension neither of you are willing to acknowledge. You think it’s just because Eddie and the others don’t want you to go out with Billy- and this is true. But the truth is much more complicated than you are aware of as Eddie tries to hold back his feelings for you.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Eddie says with a contented sigh. You feel relief wash over you.

“I’ll call you as soon as I get home!” you reply, giddy in anticipation. You say goodbye quickly and hang up the phone so you can get dressed. It was almost 7:00pm so Billy was going to be there any minute.

At 6:55pm, you begin anxiously waiting by the front door, trying to calm your nerves by breathing deeply and slowly. At 7:02pm, you're pacing and peeking out from between the blinds everytime you think you see headlights. At 7:13, you’re telling yourself that maybe you got the time wrong and he actually said 7:30pm. At 7:17pm, you’re sitting on the steps in the foyer- your leg bouncing up and down to rid yourself of your anxious energy. At 7:24pm, dread swells up inside you, maybe he’s not coming. At 7:32, you hear the car horn and Billy’s car waits for you in your driveway.

For a brief moment, you feel yourself pout. It wasn’t a big deal, but you thought that he’d come up the front steps and knock when he came to pick you up. And for a brief moment, you’re reminded that Eddie always does- even the one time your house hadn’t been shoveled yet and he walked up to the house through the snow and the legs of his jeans were soaked- but that's Eddie. You tell yourself that it's old fashioned to expect a guy to come to the door so you shake the thoughts away. You have the same feeling of disappointment bubbling up to the surface again, when he doesn’t walk around the car to get the door for you. You tell yourself to drop it, no one does that anymore- you need to lower your expectations.

You wonder how someone who drives so fast could be so late- thinking to yourself as Billy sped out of your driveway and down your block before you managed to get your seatbelt on. You tell yourself you’re being too judgmental, and that you need to lighten up. You remind yourself about what you want to focus on. It’s Saturday night, and you’re on a date with one of the most attractive guys you’ve ever seen and he’s stealing glances at you with his really, really pretty blue eyes.

Billy brought you to a slasher movie, thinking you’d hate it. He expected you to cuddle up to him, hide your face in his shoulder… perfect opportunities for him to get you closer. He doesn’t expect you to be really into it. He watches you watch the movie, and he’s a little taken aback. Who goes to the drive-in and actually watches the movie? You apparently.

“You’re so far away, Princess,” Billy remarks. You’re still sitting on the opposite side of the bench seat as you’d been watching the movie. You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness when he practically tells you that he wants you close.

“Oh,” you realize, your voice soft. The sound of his voice pulling you away from the movie just long enough to slide closer to him. Billy wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but he thought it was adorable- the way you slide over to him, your eyes not leaving the movie. He lifts up his right arm and rests it across the backs of the seats, effectively wrapping his arm around you when it slings down over your shoulder.

Inside you’re freaking out a little bit- not necessarily because it was Billy who had his arm around you, but because this was a moment you’d imagined happening to you so many times. He was so handsome, and popular- so many things, and he wanted you. He wanted you closer so he could wrap his arm around you. The feeling of being desirable made butterflies swarm in your stomach.

“You aren’t scared, Princess?” Billy asks, his lips right by your ear, and his left hand settling on your thigh right at the edge of your skirt. You couldn’t see his smirk, thinking he knows how it plays out. Like it has a million times before with him. He plans on having you in the backseat any moment now.

“Not really,” you shrug, a giggle escaping your lips as his hair tickles your neck. “I love scary movies,” you volunteer, sharing something about yourself. Billy doesn’t do that- he won’t offer up something even if that simple. “What about you?” You ask, and it takes him back.

“Uh, yeah,” Billy says, not sure how to react to you. This isn’t how this works. He wasn’t here for conversation. He wanted to kiss you, slide his hands up your sweater and find those cute little heart buttons on the floor of his car a few weeks from now. He wanted to keep letting his hand on your thigh slide up further, see what your panties look like.

You can’t help but feel disappointed at his answer. You were expecting more than just a one word response. Wasn’t the whole point of tonight to get to know each other? You hate how the silence is heavy in the car. You having a fleeting thought about Eddie- if he was here, you’d both be making fun of the terrible effects and chatting about everything and nothing the whole time. You redirect your focus back to the movie, thinking maybe Billy doesn’t want to miss anything you reason.

“Did you know how they got it to look like that?” You lean over and ask Billy, and then you offer some information on how the special effects in the movie work. Billy looks over at you, wide eyed. Partially because, one- he’s surprised that you’re trying to talk to him, he’s not used to that and two- he’s actually surprised that he’s interested in what you have to say, and he’s enjoying listening to you talk. It stirs a feeling in him that he doesn’t recognize and it’s one he will refuse to let out. But, in the moment- just you and him in his car, he lets himself enjoy you and what you’re saying.

A little while later, there is one scene that’s a particularly gore-filled jump scare and Billy can feel you become startled. He can’t help himself watching you watch the movie. He gently tugs you a little closer to his side like he’s wanted to all night. When he feels your body relax, he decides the moment is right.

He slowly guides his left hand to your cheek and tilts your face up to his, resting your chin on his index finger. He can feel goosebumps on your arm where his other hand is wrapped around your shoulders. He revels in the feeling of being the one to have this effect on you.

You can feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you realize that Billy is leaning in to kiss you. He was so close to you and it was dizzying. This was exactly how you imagined your first kiss to be. The anticipation was infuriating as he took his time leaning in, smirking at the way you react to him. It was all almost too much.

Until it actually happens. It’s objectively a good kiss- a great kiss. It’s exactly how you picture your first kiss. It’s textbook. And Billy is a good kisser, and his lips are so soft and his cologne smells so good. But, you’re disappointed- the infamous spark you hoped to feel just isn’t there. You blame yourself, having built up this moment so much in your head. You feel so foolish, expecting it to be this earth shattering feeling- but it’s just a kiss. You tell yourself that it’s perfect.

Kissing you makes Billy’s head spin. He tries his best to not focus on it, he hates the fact the taste of your vanilla chapstick makes his knees feel weak. This isn’t what was supposed to happen. He tries his best to keep his thoughts at bay but he can’t do anything to calm the way his heart pounds in his chest being pulled in close to you. He’s addicted, and his urge to make you his- and only his- pollutes his entire consciousness. He doesn’t want anyone else but him to know you like this. This is something he wants to lock away just for him.

He’s never been jealous or possessive like this- not for a girl before. Anxiety bottles up inside him thinking about losing you, not being able to kiss you like this. He wants this all just for him. The idea of your lips on someone else’s makes him see red. No one else can have you is all he can think about when your breathy little moans hit his ears. Suddenly, he’s petrified that you’re gonna slip away and there’s so much more that he wants. He’s never felt so overwhelmed from a kiss before.

A loud scene in the movie snaps you both back to reality. The sudden sound playing through the speaker makes you jump, startling back away from the heated kiss. Billy first instinct is to be annoyed, but he finds himself instead- amused. He strangely finds it endearing, and suddenly, the brief emotion evaporated as he looks at you. He’s puzzled, all of this is new- but he wants to bottle it up and throw away the key, keeping you just like this.

“C’mere,” he mumbles with a lazy smile, tugging you back over to him. He wraps his arms around you, and scoops you into his lap. Your skirt bunches at your hips as you straddle his waist. His hands wrap around your back, holding you in close to him- chests flush with each other. “You’re cute, princess,” he praises, pressing his lips to your jaw and neck, greedy to illicit every little noise from you that he can.

He kisses you again and your mind is so fuzzy. You didn’t think you’d end up like this. You envisioned a kiss- maybe a kiss when he dropped you off. Your fantasies were so chaste compared to where the night seems to be going- where Billy wants it to go. The sensation of being so enveloped by him is too much. You think you want this, but you are too inexperienced to be totally sure. It’s all moving so fast. Your hand falls back when you feel him bite into your neck, and you moan softly at the sensation too wrapped up in your thoughts to care that he’s leaving a hickey.

“Gonna make you mine, Princess,” Billy moans close to your ear before connecting his lips to yours again. You can feel the hardness of his cock pressing against you and despite how good it feels- you panic just a little bit. It was all happening so fast for you.

“What do you mean?” You ask, softly- pulling away to look at him- read his face. Was it just talk or was he admitting he wanted something real? The idea of that makes your heart feel like it’s racing. “Like… you want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask, innocently.

Billy didn’t mean that, he didn’t know what he meant. He just knows that he’s craving you and wants to have you all to himself. He’ll say whatever he thinks will make that happen. “Yeah… of course,” he murmurs, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Billy Hargrove wanted you to be his girlfriend. You couldn’t believe it, you felt over the moon. Your grin spread across your face from ear to ear. This was it, tonight was everything you thought you wanted. Someone chose you, finally saw you and wanted you. Relief washed over you, the fear of being alone subsided because he was here, wanting to pull you in closer. Not knowing any better, you let him in.

Jumping in with both feet, you let Billy take the lead- so wrapped up in the idea of him that you weren’t prepared for what that would actually mean to be his. You just wanted someone so badly, so sick with the heavy feeling of loneliness that you felt so committed to keeping this feeling in its place. You didn’t even know if you actually liked him- you didn’t know him that well. But, he liked you, and told you all the things you wanted to hear. You thought he was perfect- that the moment was perfect. You ignore Eddie’s voice in the back of your mind, reminding you of how terrible the idea was getting with Billy.

He’s driving you home when he speaks again, and it catches you off guard.

“I don’t want you hanging around with those guys,” Billy says absentmindedly. He was thinking about Monday at school- how he’d have to see you with your friends, Eddie hanging all over you. “They’re trouble- not good for you Princess.”

“Who? Hellfire?” You ask with a laugh. “Trust me, they're harmless.”

“They aren’t… you shouldn’t hang around guys like that,” he says, resting his hand on your thigh. “They just want you- you think they’re your friends but they aren’t.” His mind lingers on Eddie, knowing how Eddie must feel about you. He can’t have him swooping in and stealing you away. He won’t let that happen.

“They’re all into weird shit… trust me, baby- they’re trouble and I don’t trust them around you. They’ll just want to break us up.”

“But they’re my friends..,” you try to insist. He shakes his head and you see his knuckles wrap tighter around the steering wheel. You do your best to ignore it. He bites his lip, holding back his anger.

“You can’t hang out with them anymore,” he declares and it’s an absolute.

You know it’s not right, but you confuse Billy’s possessiveness as his own way of caring about you, wanting to keep you safe. You rationalize it, you understand how it looks to have so many guy friends. It’s normal for a boyfriend to not want his girlfriend around other guys, right? At the red light, he kisses you again and all apprehension melts away. For now, when he’s kissing you like this- wanting you like this, you’ll give into anything he asks.

You’ll worry about this on Monday.

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