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aeralux · 23 hours ago

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"Freak On a Leash" - Aemond Targaryen

Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: So what if you're fucking the weird dude? He has good dick game. But how were you supposed to know he gets attached easily?

Warnings: SMUT (18+); (pretty rough) car sex; oral (f!receiving); name calling (slut, whore etc); dark!Aemond near the end; hair pulling; choking; ass slapping; mentions of violence and blood

Words: 5.5k

Notes: No description of the reader. This was just going to be porn without a plot... but ofc I had to add some plot smh. This isn't dark dark, but it does contain some of the elements of it so... do not read it if you are not comfortable with that

𐔌 . ⋮ aera .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

He was weird, unsettling, and genuinely offputting. That's why your friends were baffled to know that you were fucking him multiple times a week, in the backseat of his car, no less. "He has good dick," you tried to tell them, saying it was worth it. But your words fell on deaf ears as none of them understood. Why him?

With long hair dyed black with a cheap store colour and a run-down 2005 Volvo S40, he didn't seem the kind of guy who could fuck a girl until her throat was raw. But you knew the truth. That's why you kept coming back, time after time.

So it was no surprise that, once again, you found yourself in his lap. In the backseat of his car, kissing and moaning, his hard cock pressing into your aching core.

"Blood?" You ask as you taste copper on your tongue when kissing his jaw.

"Don't act like you don't find that hot," he grunted, a smug expression on his face. It's probably because whoever he fought, lost.

You smiled playfully, your lips brushing against his once more, caught in a moment where admitting he was right felt like submitting. The warmth between you grew, leaving just the two of you.

He tangled his fingers in your hair for a second before shifting his attention downward, fumbling with the delicate fabric of your flimsy top. The skin-tight shirt clung to your curves, resisting his attempts as if it had a will of its own. Frustration flickered across his face, but it was quickly replaced by determination as he continued to work his way around the stubborn material.

"Just rip it open for fuck's sake," you groan as he fumbles with your skin-tight white top. Your hips instinctively roll on top of his, ruining your cute white cotton panties with your juices.

Aemond groans deeply at your words. With a quick, decisive motion, he rips the fabric open, the sound of the tear deafening. Your black lacy bra is revealed, the delicate lace a stark contrast to his rough, calloused hands as they cup your breasts.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he growls, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples through the thin lace. "Gonna fucking wreck you."

He leans in, his hot mouth latching onto one nipple through the bra as his other hand slides down to rub your clit through your soaked panties. He groans against your skin at the wetness he finds there, the sound vibrating through you.

Oh gods, you are so fucking wet for him. You can feel your arousal soaking through the thin cotton, staining it with your desperation. You grind harder against the rigid bulge straining against his jeans, needing more friction, and more contact.

"So fucking wet for me already," he murmurs, his fingers pushing the fabric aside to delve between your folds. "Gonna make you come so hard."

You roll your hips harder against Aemond's bulge, your clit throbbing with every grind. Your skirt hangs loosely around your waist, resembling more of a belt.

"Fuck, these songs suck ass," you grumbled, reaching for Aemond's phone and scrolling through his playlists until you find something more to your liking. The change in music elicits a growl from Aemond, but you just smirk and lean in close, your lips brushing his jaw. The bass line of Rob Zombie's "Dragula" thumps through the car, a perfect complement to the nasty thoughts running through your mind.

"Okay, now you can fuck me," you giggle, your teeth grazing his skin before you soothe the sting with your tongue. You can taste the salt of his sweat, the copper tang of blood - a reminder of the fight he must have been in. Your curiosity gets the better of you.

"Who the fuck did you fight this time?" You ask, your voice low and husky with desire. But even as you speak, your focus is on the delicious friction between your legs, the way Aemond's hard length rubs against your aching core with every roll of your hips.

"Fucking some new guy, thought he could take me," Aemond growls, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he grinds up against you. "Taught him a lesson real quick."

He leans in, his teeth nipping at your earlobe as he speaks. "He won't be coming back anytime soon. Not after the way I shattered his ribs." His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you down harder onto his cock.

"Now, quit talking and start begging for it," he commands, his voice a low rumble in your ear. He places a few light smacks on your cheek, making you smile at the lewd actions.

You shake your head, a wide smile spreading across your face as your eyes lose focus. The depravity of the situation, the dingy car, the smell of sweat and sex, it all makes you even wetter. You can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs.

"You know I don't beg," you whisper, your lips brushing against his earlobe as you suck on it gently. Your teeth graze the sensitive skin, making him groan.

Aemond's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks. He sounds almost angry as he growls, "You'd better fucking start, or I'll stop right here."

"Fuck," you whimper as his bulge nudges against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Your brows furrow, your eyes squeezed shut as you grind down harder, seeking more of that delicious friction.

To emphasize his point, he stills his hips, denying you the friction you crave. His other hand moves from your breast to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

"Please, Aemond," you moan, your voice breaking with need. "Fuck me. Use me. Make me forget everything but your cock inside me."

Aemond's eyes darken with lust at your words, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "That's more like it," he purrs, his grip on your throat relaxing just slightly. He leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing kiss.

"Gonna fucking ruin you," he promises, his free hand moving down to grip your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh. He pulls you down hard, grinding his clothed cock against your aching cunt.

"Gonna make you scream for me," he growls, his other hand moving from your throat to tangle in your hair. He yanks your head back, exposing your neck to his hungry mouth. He latches on, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, his teeth grazing your skin.

His hips are moving now, grinding up against you in a filthy rhythm. The rough denim of his jeans rubs against your sensitive clit. You can feel the heat of him through the fabric, the hard length of his cock straining against his zipper.

You moan sluttily, desperate, shameless noises filling his car. You're too far gone to care about your pride. Impatiently, you tug the cups of your bra down, exposing your hardened nipples to the cool air. They're almost painfully sensitive, aching to be sucked.

"Suck," you command, your voice low and demanding. You arch your back, offering your breasts to him like a sacrificial lamb.

Aemond's eyes darken at your demand, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Oh, so you think you're in charge here, do you?" he growls, his hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back.

You gasp at the sharp pain, your eyes watering. "I think you need to be put in your place, slut," he sneers, his other hand roughly palming your breast.

He leans in, his hot breath ghosting over your exposed nipple. "Beg for it," he commands, his voice low and dangerous.

You swallow hard, your pride fading due to your desperate need. "Please," you whimper, your voice small and needy. "Suck my tits, I need it so bad."

Aemond chuckles darkly, his teeth grazing your nipple. "That's more like it," he growls before his mouth envelops the sensitive bud.

You cry out, your back arching as he suckles hard, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak. The pleasure is intense, bordering on pain, and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

"Fuck, that feels so good," you moan, your hand moving to the back of his head, trying to push him closer. But he pulls away, shaking his head.

"Hands off," he commands, his eyes flashing with anger. "You don't get to tell me what to do."

You whimper, your hand falling away. "Sorry," you whisper, your cheeks flushing with shame.

Aemond just smirks, his hand moving to your other breast, roughly squeezing the soft flesh. "Good girl," he purrs, before diving back in, his mouth hot and wet on your aching nipple.

You moan, your eyes fluttering closed as you lose yourself in the sensation.

"Fuck, you taste good," he growls against your skin, his hand moving to pinch and roll your other nipple between his fingers. The dual sensations make you cry out, your back arching as you press yourself further into his touch.

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, blowing cool air over the damp flesh. You whimper at the loss, your body craving more of his touch. "That's better," he says, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "You know your place."

Aemond's hand moves from your hair to your throat again, squeezing just enough to make you gasp for air. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you senseless?"

Your heart races, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as Aemond's hand tightens around your throat. The lack of oxygen only adds to the haze of lust clouding your mind. You nod frantically, your eyes wide and pleading.

"Yes, yes, I'll be good," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond's lips curve into a wicked grin against your skin, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Fuck, you're so desperate for it, aren't you?" he growls, his hand releasing your throat to grip your hip, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise.

He grinds up against you, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against your aching clit. The friction is delicious, but not nearly enough. You need more. You need him inside you, stretching you, filling you.

"Yes, fuck yes, I'm desperate for it," you pant, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you inside me, Aemond. I love it when you use me."

Aemond chuckles darkly, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "Fuck, you're such a dirty little slut," he growls, his hand releasing your throat to grip your hair instead. He yanks your head back, exposing your neck to his hungry mouth.

"Gonna fucking ruin you," he promises, his teeth grazing your skin. "Gonna make you scream for me."

"Fuck, you're so wet," he groans. He yanks your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark with lust, filled with the depravity to come.

"Gonna fuck you so hard, you'll be feeling it for days," he promises, his hand moving from your hair to grip your throat again. He squeezes, cutting off your air supply just for a moment before releasing.

You gasp, your lungs burning for oxygen. But even then you still smile at him, biting your lip.

Aemond's eyes darken at the sight, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Fuck, you're perfect," he growls, his hand releasing your throat to grip your ass hard enough to bruise. "A sight for sore eyes," he smirks, looking into your glossy eyes.

"Shit, I need to eat you out first," he groans, his jeans pressing down painfully on his throbbing cock.

He slides off the seat, kneeling between your legs as he slides your panties to the side impatiently. The scent of your arousal is thick in the air, making his cock throb with need. The cool air hits your aching cunt, making you shiver.

"Fuck, you smell incredible," he growls, his hot breath ghosting over your slick folds. He leans in, his tongue darting out to lap at your clit, making you cry out.

He groans at the taste of you, his tongue delving deeper, licking through your folds and fucking into your entrance. He eats you out like a man starved, his tongue moving in and out, his lips sucking on your clit.

His fingers delving between your folds. He brings them up to your lips, pressing them against your mouth. "Taste how fucking desperate you are for me."

You open your mouth obediently, sucking his fingers into your mouth. The taste of your arousal explodes on your tongue, musky and sweet. You moan around his fingers, your tongue licking and sucking, cleaning them of your juices.

Aemond's eyes darken with lust as he watches you suck his fingers clean, your tongue swirling around the digits. He growls low in his throat, his free hand moving to grip your breast, squeezing the soft flesh roughly.

"Fuck, you're so hot like this," he growls, his fingers popping out of your mouth.

He gets back up, leaving you unsatisfied and annoyed.

He grabs your hair, forcing your head back and making you look up at him. His eyes are dark with lust, his jaw clenched as he battles for control.

"Strip," he commands, his voice low and dangerous. "I want you fucking naked, now."

You scramble to obey, yanking your bra off, your breasts bouncing free, nipples hard and aching for his touch. Your miniskirt and panties are next, puddled on the floor of the car, leaving you bare and exposed.

"Shit, you look so good," Aemond growls, his eyes raking over your naked form. "I almost don't even want to ruin you... almost"

He flips you on your hands and knees, pushing your head down, forcing your ass in the air, holes completely exposed to him. He yanks you forward, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. "Brace yourself, slut," he growls, grinding his clothed cock against your bare pussy. "Gonna fucking wreck you."

You crane your neck to look back at Aemond, a scoff leaving your lips. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," you mock, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

His eyes darken at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Oh, I'll take more than just a picture, baby," he promises, his hand coming down on your ass in a sharp smack.

You gasp at the sting, your pussy clenching in anticipation. "Promises, promises," you taunt, wiggling your ass invitingly. "You talk a big game, but I bet you can't even get it half hard."

Aemond's grip on your hips tightens, his nails digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks. "Fuck, you're so goddamn cocky," he snarls. "Gonna shut that smart mouth of yours."

You moan at the contact, your head falling forward as you push your ass back against him. "Big talk, dickhead," you pant, your voice breathy with need. "Let's see what you've got."

Aemond responds to your taunts with a sharp smack to your ass, the sound echoing in the confined space of the car. "Fuck, you're asking for it," he growls, his hand coming down again, harder this time.

You gasp, your ass jiggling from the impact. "Shit, you're making a mess of me," you whine, wiggling your hips. Your pussy is throbbing, aching to be filled.

"That's the idea, slut," Aemond grunts, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass cheeks. He spreads them apart, exposing your tight holes to his hungry gaze. "Gonna fucking wreck this tight little ass."

His hands move to his zipper, slowly dragging it down. The sound of the metal seems obscenely loud in the confined space of the car.

He pushes his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his cock, the thick shaft springing up, hard and ready. The head is already slick with precum, the veins along the length pulsing with his heartbeat.

He spits in his palm, rubbing his saliva over his cock, giving it some lubrication. Then he's pressing the tip against your drooling hole, the rough denim of his jeans scraping against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight," he groans, pushing forward, the head of his cock breaching your hole. You cry out, the stretch intense, bordering on pain.

"Relax, slut," he commands, his hand coming down on your ass again. "Take that fucking cock like a good whore."

He starts to move, his hips rocking back and forth, inch by inch of his thick shaft sinking into your tight heat. Your walls clench around him, trying to adjust to the intrusion, but he doesn't give you time.

He starts fucking you in earnest, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper with each thrust. The car rocks with the force of his movements, the seat creaking beneath you.

"Fuck, you take it so well," he pants, his hand moving from your ass to grip your hip, holding you in place as he fucks into you. "Gonna fucking ruin this tight ass."

You moan, your hands gripping the seat, nails digging into the cracked leather. The pain in your ass mixes with the pleasure, making your head spin.

"Harder," you beg, pushing your hips back to meet his, desperate for more. "Fuck me harder, shit."

Your juices drip down your thighs, pooling on the leather seat below as Aemond pounds into you.

Your hands grip the seat, nails digging into the cracked leather as you brace yourself for the onslaught. Aemond's hands are everywhere - gripping your hips, squeezing your ass, tugging at your hair. He uses you like a rag doll, fucking you with an animalistic need.

Aemond grunts, his grip on your hips tightening as he complies with your demand. "Fuck, you want it hard, slut?" he growls, his voice strained with effort. "Gonna fucking give it to you."

He pulls nearly all the way out, leaving just the tip inside your stretched hole. Then he slams back in, his hips connecting with your ass with a sharp smack. He sets a brutal pace, fucking into you recklessly, the car swaying with his thrusts.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight," he pants, sweat dripping down his face, his messy black hair sticking to his skin.

You can only moan, your mouth hanging open as you gasp for air. Your breasts bounce with each powerful thrust, your nipples hard and aching for attention.

Aemond's hand moves from your hip to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh roughly. He pinches your nipple between his fingers, twisting and tugging, sending sparks of pain through your body.

"Fuck, your tits are perfect," he groans, his hand moving to your other breast, giving it the same treatment.

You whimper, your pussy clenching around his pistoning cock. The combination of pain and pleasure is overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You reach down, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. The added stimulation makes you see stars, your back arching as you moan.

"Fuck, you're such a dirty girl," Aemond pants. "Getting off on being used like a fucking toy."

"Shit, I'm close," you pant, your nails digging into the leather seat and your fingers moving on your clit. "Don't stop, fuck, don't stop," you moan, your hips bucking back against him, seeking more friction. His fingers rub your clit in tight circles, the pressure building with each stroke.

He pulls your hair, forcing your back to arch, your ass pushing back against him. The new angle allows him to go even deeper, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes you see stars.

"That's it, take it all you little slut," he pants, his hand moving from your tit to your clit, replacing your hand, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight circles.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," you whimper, your body tensing. "Please, Aemond, please."

"Do it," he commands, his fingers moving faster on your clit. "Come for me like the good little whore you are."

With a cry, you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your pussy clenches around his cock, your walls rippling along his shaft.

Aemond groans, his hips stuttering as your orgasm milks his cock. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he growls, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Where do you want me to spill?"

Your body convulses as the intense orgasm rips through you, your vision blurring and stars bursting behind your eyelids. "On my ass, fuck!" You cry out, the words torn from your throat. "Cum all over my ass!"

You arch your back, pushing your hips against Aemond's, desperate for more. Your pussy clenches around his cock, milking him.

You can feel his grip on your hips tighten, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his release. The sound of your skin slapping together fills the car, mixed with your heavy breathing and moans of pleasure.

Aemond's cock throbs inside you, his thrusts becoming more erratic as your pussy milks him. He growls low in his throat, his hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back.

"Fuck, gonna paint your ass white," he pants, his hips slamming against your ass with bruising force.

He pulls out abruptly, his cock slipping from your clenching hole with a wet sound. You whimper at the loss, your pussy aching to be filled again.

Aemond's hand comes down on your ass in a sharp smack, the sting making you gasp. "Present yourself," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Wanna see you take my load like a good little whore."

You arch your back even more, spreading your thighs as far as you can in the limited space. Your spasming holes are on full display for his hungry gaze.

Aemond kneels behind you, his cock in his hand, stroking it with quick, rough motions. "Fuck, you're such a good little girl," he pants, his eyes dark with lust as they roam over your body. "Too bad you're such a filthy slut."

He starts to come, his cock jerking in his hand as thick ropes of cum splatter across your ass and pussy. You moan, your fingers dipping between your folds to gather some of his cum, bringing it to your mouth.

"Fuck, look at you," Aemond groans, his hand still working his shaft, milking out every last drop. "Eating my cum like the dirty whore you are."

He collapses next to you on the seat, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. He reaches out, his fingers tangling in your hair, tugging your head back to look at him.

"You're fucking perfect," he growls, his eyes intense as they bore into yours. "Mine."

"Mhm," you hum, collapsing onto Aemond's chest, your body spent and sated. The car reeks of sex and sweat, your combined releases staining the seats. It's filthy and sinful, turning you on.

Aemond's arms wrap around you, pulling you close as he strokes your hair. You nuzzle into his neck, breathing in his scent, a mix of cologne and sex.

"That was intense," you murmur, your voice low and breathy. "You really know how to fuck a girl stupid."

Aemond chuckles, his chest rumbling beneath you. "Fucking right I do," he boasts, his fingers tangling in your hair. "You're a damn good lay, too. Always so fucking eager for my cock."

He tugs on your hair, forcing your head back to look at him. His eyes are dark, filled with lust and possessiveness. "You're mine," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "This tight little body belongs to me."

"Such a good girl," he praises, his other hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over your swollen lips. "Gonna keep you."

You smile against his fingers, a wicked gleam in your eyes. "Keep me for what?" you tease. "You're not my man. I'm not your's to keep," you whisper, feeling an ache in your heart for some reason.

Aemond's eyes flash with a dangerous light, his grip on your chin tightening as he yanks your face closer to his.

His grip on your chin tightened. "The fuck I'm not," he growls, his voice low and menacing. "I've had you more times than I can count. I know every inch of this body, every fucking sound you make when I'm buried inside you."

He shifts, his face mere inches from yours, his breath hot against your lips. "You're mine, whether you admit it or not."

His other hand slides down your body, fingers dipping between your thighs to gather the cum leaking from your abused hole. He brings it to your lips, smearing it across them.

"Look at you, so fucking dirty, so desperate for my cum. You can pretend all you want, but deep down, you know you belong to me."

He crashes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you with a ferocity that steals your breath.

When he pulls back, you're panting, your lips swollen and tingling. "You're mine," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. "And I'm never letting you go."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and something else, something you're not quite ready to name.You press your forehead against his, your eyes fluttering closed as you try to steady your breathing.

"I don't belong to anyone," you whisper, but there's no conviction in your voice. "We're just fucking, Aemond. Don't make it more than it is."

Aemond's eyes darken, a flash of anger crossing his face before it's quickly replaced with a predatory smirk. "Just fucking?" he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. "Is that what you think this is?"

He sits up, pulling you with him so you're straddling his lap. His hands grip your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he holds you in place.

"We've been doing this for months, baby," he reminds you, his voice rough. "You think I don't know the difference between a quick fuck and what we have?"

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I know every inch of this body, every fucking sound you make, every way you tremble and writhe when I'm inside you."

"Stop fighting it," he growls, his eyes boring into yours. "You might tell your friends that this means nothing to you, that you think I'm some creepy guy you fuck. Yet you still keep coming back.."

Your breath catches in your throat, his words sending a shiver down your spine. How does he know? You've never told him those things. You shake your head, a strand of hair falling across your face. "No, I've never said that," you whisper, your voice trembling. "I swear."

You try to pull away, but his grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place. His eyes bore into yours, dark and intense, searching for any sign of deceit. "I wouldn't say those things about you," you insist. "I don't think you're weird."

Aemond's eyes narrow, his grip on your hips tightening until it almost hurts. "Don't lie to me," he growls, his voice low and menacing. "I know you talk shit about me to your friends. I know you think I'm some kind of freak."

He leans in, his breath hot against your cheek. "But you keep coming back, don't you? You keep spreading your legs for me, begging me to fuck you like the desperate little slut you are."

His hand moves from your hip to your throat, his thumb brushing over your pulse point. "You can't resist me, can you? No matter how much you try to pretend, your body knows who it belongs to."

He squeezes your throat, not enough to cut off your air, but enough to make your heart race. "I've heard you, baby," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "I've heard you call me a freak, a deviant. But you still come back, letting me use your tight little body for my pleasure."

Your cheeks flush with shame and embarrassment as Aemond's words sink in. You try to pull away from his grip, your naked bodies still intertwined, but his hold is too strong. "Yes, fine. I have said those things about you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

You search his eyes, trying to find the right words. "Aemond, you fight people. You're dangerous." You say it with a seriousness that misrepresents the thrill that runs through you at the very thought. It's the danger that makes him so appealing.

You sigh, your fingers caressing his face, tracing the strong lines of his jaw. "Must you have such an effect on me?" You mutter, before leaning in to kiss him.

Aemond's lips meet yours in a savage kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth with a fierce intensity. His grip on your throat tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he holds you in place.

When he finally pulls back, you're both breathing heavily, your lips swollen and stinging from the force of his kiss.

"You fuckin' love it," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "You love the danger, the thrill of being with a man who can break you."

"Admit it," he presses, his voice low and dangerous. "You get off on the fact that I could snap anyone's fucking neck with one hand."

Aemond's grip on your throat loosens, his thumb stroking your pulse point in a surprisingly tender gesture.

"Would you ever hurt me?" You whisper, your breath hot on his lips, your faces mere inches apart. A flicker of fear in your eyes, but it's quickly overshadowed by the desire burning within you. You search his gaze, looking for any sign of malice, any hint of danger. But all you see is raw, primal hunger.

Your fingers trace the lines of his jaw. He's so close. It's intoxicating and terrifying at once. You have seen him fight, seen the way he's hurt others with minimal effort. He could break you, shatter you into a million pieces if he wanted to.

Aemond's eyes soften for a moment, a rare vulnerability flickering in their depths. "You think I'd hurt you?" he asks, his voice low and rough. "Baby, I'd die before I let anyone lay a finger on you."

He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. "You're mine," he growls, his voice fierce with possessiveness. "And I protect what's mine."

His hand slides from your throat to your cheek, cupping your face gently. "I may be aggressive, but I'm not a pig," he murmurs, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. "I'd never hurt you, not like that."

"But make no mistake," he whispers, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll hurt anyone who tries to take you from me."

You bite his thumb lightly as he speaks, his possessive demeanour sending a jolt of electricity through you. "Anyone who would hurt me?" You purr, leaning into his touch like a small lamb. His words ignite a fire deep within you, a primal desire to be owned, claimed, and protected.

You know you shouldn't give in to this, but you can't help yourself. The way he looks at you like you are the only woman in the world, it's intoxicating.

Aemond growls low in his throat, his eyes darkening with lust at the feel of your teeth on his skin. "That's right, baby," he purrs, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, tangling in your hair. "You're mine, and I'll fucking kill anyone who tries to take you away from me."

Your breath hitches in your throat at Aemond's words, his dangerous claims sending a shiver down your spine. You meet his gaze, your eyes are wide and full of devotion, a vulnerability you rarely show to anyone.

He tugs you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss. "I'll protect you," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I'll cherish you. I'll fucking worship you."

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. "I'm yours," you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. "Body and soul."

Aemond's eyes flash with fierce triumph at your words, a primal look of satisfaction spreading across his face. "That's right, you're fucking mine," he growls, tugging you closer and crushing his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

"Get dressed, pretty girl. I'm taking you to my place," he demands, leaving no room for argument.

Aemond's eyes blaze with desire as he watches you scramble to put on your clothes, your naked body still slick with his cum. He licks his lips, his cock already hardening again at the sight of you.

He helps you to the passenger seat, smirking. "Hope you don't mind a messy ride."

248 notes · View notes

cellythefloshie · 2 days ago

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;; A Secret for Christmas 𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 𝓗𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓼 from cellythefloshie

Summary: Katie had long abandoned trying to search for new romance, especially during the holiday season. But when her son’s teammate, Jeremy Swayman, joins them for the holidays, Katie can't ignore the memory of the night they once shared together in Boston a year prior. Will Jeremy’s persistence chip away at her defenses? Will Katie risk it all for a chance at a lust she never expected? Sequel to: Mama Bear. Kinks & Tropes: Age Gap (24 v. 41). Divorcee. Alcohol Consumption. Secret Hookup. Protected Sex. - If I missed something, yell at me. ABOUT THE OC’s: Katherine: AKA Katie. Face Claim: Bryce Dallas Howard. 40's. Mother of Parker Waylon-Stacy. Parker: Face Claim: Michael Provost. Boston Bruin's Forward. Dorthey: AKA Dottie. Face Claim: Kate Hudson. Best friend of Katherine. Word Count: 13k+ A/N: Another year has passed, and in almost that exact time, we return to Katie and Jeremy. I am not lying to you when I say that this fic has been planned since January. It has been a painful wait for me to have to wait to write/post this. For months I would return to my outline and read it with great excitement. I am so deeply satisfied to be able to finally share this with you all, and to have this fic be the last one I will write for 2024. (Though, a New Years fic has been queued, this is the last one I will be writing until 2025). I hope you're just as excited to return to Jeremy as I was! --- This fic was minimally edited.

Christmas didn’t feel like Christmas anywhere but home, Katie thought as she sat in bumper to bumper traffic, her hands wringing at the steering wheel. A symphony of honks sung their carols around her, but they went unheard as she daydreamed of home.

The stockings hung in their usual spots, their names stitched neatly in gold thread—hers and Parker’s. She could almost hear his small voice from when he was just a boy, asking if Santa would really know to leave presents if they didn’t have a chimney.

Every corner of her home was dusted with memories—Parker’s laugh echoing down the halls, the smell of cookies burning when she got distracted by Dottie and the kids in the living room, the way he used to shake the snow off his boots, leaving puddles by the door.

But this year, those memories were left behind, but not forgotten as Parker wasn't going to be able to come home for Christmas. The Bruins had a game the night before Christmas Eve, and they’d hit the road again just four days later. Katie had been forced to choose between the traditions she treasured and something new. As Stubborn as she was, there was never really a choice. She would always choose Parker.

The drive to the grocery store and back took nearly two hours—a journey that gave Katie plenty of time to dwell on Parker’s idea of a "family holiday." When he’d told her he’d rented a house big enough for everyone, she hadn’t asked many questions. She trusted her son. But that trust began to waver at 5 a.m. on the morning of her flight when Dottie showed up at her door with her husband and her kids all left waiting in their Escalade.

“Surprise!” Dottie had chirped, her tone almost too cheery to handle before a cup of coffee. But Katie smiled all the same. Having her best friend with her for the holidays, especially when she would have to deal with her ex, was a gift all in itself.

And the surprises didn’t end there.

For the entirety of the flight, Katie couldn’t fathom how Parker imagined cramming all eight of them into an Airbnb. But when the car pulled up to the property, Katie’s jaw dropped. This wasn’t some tiny apartment or cramped rental house. It was a sprawling villa, complete with a wide wraparound porch, floor to ceiling windows and twinkling lights that sparkled in the crisp winter air.

The beauty of the home still left Katie in awe as she pulled up in front of it for the second time. The driveway curved through a yard blanket edge by freshly fallen snow. Snow that crackled beneath the slow roll of the car's tires until they eased into a stop in front of the garage door. Katie leaned her back against the headrest, admiring how Christmas lights reflected off the snow capped roof. Smiling proudly at what Parker was able to accomplish, she turned slightly to look over at Dottie who sat in the passenger seat.

Her phone was out, her fingers tapping feverishly against her phone as she tried to finish the work assignment she had promised not to touch when the plane landed in Boston. Katie shook her head slowly, her smile growing wider. There were two things Dottie would be doing from the grave, her final work assignment and polishing off an expensive bottle of chardonnay. Because while she worked hard, Dottie played harder.

“You done?” Katie raised a brow up at her best friend, “because I'm not letting you touch it again once we get inside.”

Dottie was quiet for a moment, a small sigh rocking her shoulders before she let her eyes leave the bright glow of the phone screen.

“Alright, alright, I'm done enough,” Dottie assured, her thumbs hovering over the screen as if she wanted to write just one word more.

“Done enough?” Katie half laughed, “Last time I heard that I found you hiding in the bathroom at the twins hockey game.”

Dottie laughed, raising her hands up in mock surrender, “I promise you won't find me hiding this time. Work-free holiday starts as soon as we pop the wine.”

“Then I guess we should get inside and open up a bottle,” Katie smiled and watched as Dottie tucked her phone away in her purse to free up her hands. They had a lot to bring in, and they were both firm believers in taking all the groceries in one trip.

Fresh snow kissed Katie’s bare ankles as she stepped out of the car, the drifts spilling over her boots with every hurried step toward the front door. Dottie followed close behind, both of them cradling paper bags threatening to topple with each stride. A shiver climbed Katie’s spine as she stomped up the steps, rushing to the unlocked door she couldn’t open with her full hands.

Her boot met the door in three swift kicks, and as it swung open, a gust of warmth greeted her cold, rosy cheeks.

“Thank you,” she spoke in a sing-songy tone as she was met by Parker's smile that quickly faltered.

“Mom, you gotta stop doing this. You could have gotten me to help carry this in,” he pleaded with her, a single arm scooping on the bags from her hold. She hated it when he looked at her like that. Like she was frail. Incapable. Old.

“I'm forty-one Parker, not a hundred. I can still carry in the groceries. Besides, Dottie helped,” Katie spoke pointedly as she stepped out of her shoes and led the way into the large kitchen that was like it was out of a dream. From the dark green walls and ebony cabinetry to the stacked ovens complete with French doors, Katie was going to be the last to complain about having to cook nearly twelve meals for eight people over the three days they would be spending in the home.

“We've got more than enough hands here, Mom,” Parker continued as he placed the bag down on the marble countertops. “Between me and-”

His words were broken by the slamming of the front door. Katie's neck quickly snapped in the direction of the sound. They hadn't abandoned Dottie. She stood beside her, her arm already lost in the depths of the paper bag as she blindly searched for one of their bottles of wine. Her brows furrowed as she leaned over the counter, craning her neck to see who's heavy steps clunked over the hardwood floors.

Her face fell into a frown when her ex-husband, Ronnie, came into view, his winter boots and jacket still on and his arms carrying an array of luggage. Not once, during their twenty years of marriage, had he been so chivalrous as to carry her bags or help her with her groceries. Katie’s face fell into a sneer, there was no hiding it.

“Dad! You made it,” Parker smiled as he stepped away from the counter to meet his dad who struggled with the bags.

Monica strutted in behind them, her smile wide as she caught up with Ronnie. Her arms opened as she stepped towards Parker, taking her into an embrace he didn’t seem eager to return. Katie caught the tightness in Parker’s jaw, as he offered a half-hearted pat on her back. She knew he was trying–for Ronnie’s sake, if nothing else–but it was clear Monica hadn’t won him over.

“By what miracle were they not going to make it?” Katie mumbled under her breath to Dottie who turned and hid her smile in the fridge as she started to put the groceries away.

“Snow storm?” Dottie hummed.

“Plane crash,” Katie bit out, sending Dottie into a laughter she could not contain.

“So we’re not playing nice this weekend?” Dottie arched a brow, her voice laced with curiosity.

Katie smirked, her tone dry. “To their faces, sure.”

Dottie chuckled, shaking her head. “You know that makes you sound terrible, right?”

“There’s only so much fake smiling I can manage before I break something,” Katie said with a shrug.

With her back turned to the doorway, Katie worked with Dottie to fill the empty cupboards and the fridge with the groceries they bought from the store. Soon, the kitchen looked like someone called it home, and it was only the turkey left to put away. Cradling it in her arms, Katie opened the fridge, only to find another turkey sitting on the top shelf.

“We didn’t buy two turkeys did we?” Katie asked, her brows falling in confusion.

“No, we just got the big one,” Dottie confirmed, her one hand wrapped around the neck of a wine bottle as she searched for a bottle opener.

“Then what’s this?” Katie stepped to the side and did her best to gesture the turkey with her full hands.

Dottie shrugged, and Katie let out a sigh. Was it horrible that they had two turkeys? No, but it was making Katie question her sanity because it wasn’t in there when they left for the store.

“Parker? Where’d you get this other turkey?” She called out, but her son didn’t hear her. He no longer stood in the doorway with his father and Monica. He was lost somewhere in the house – probably showing them to their room - or maybe, he was the source of the laughter she could hear in the living room.

Placing the turkey down in the fridge next to the other, Katie closed up the fridge and followed the shill laughter of Dottie’s twins, and the thunder of footsteps against the hardwood floor. She walked through the entryway, her socks getting wet from the trail of her husband’s footprints. If she was still his wife, she would have nagged him to clean up the mess he had created, but she promised herself that she wouldn’t let his bad habits get to her over the holidays. Instead she walked right through them, leaving her own soggy footprints behind as she walked to the living room.

“Whoa,” her lips fell open in awe at the sight of the large Christmas tree that stood in the corner of the room, just to the right of the fireplace that blazed with the dance of fire. That hadn’t been there before they left either. Its branches were still free of ornaments, but the glimmer of white lights set it aglow.

“When did Parker have time for all of this?” Dottie gasped out from behind her, pushing past to stand with Brandon and Brayden who knelt on the floor, opening up the boxes of brand new ornaments.

“He didn’t,” Megan said, her voice drifting lazily from where she was curled up in an armchair by the fire. “Jeremy did.”

Katie’s attention snapped to the teenager, whose wistful gaze was fixed on the snow falling softly outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. The faint, dreamy sigh that followed spoke volumes. Katie didn’t need to ask—she recognized that tone all too well. But Katie couldn’t give herself time to dwell on it, her body had already gone still at the realization of what Megan had said.

Suddenly she was hot, sweating, with nerves as her stomach jumped up into her throat. She had to have heard her wrong. Megan hasn’t said Jeremy. She couldn’t have. Katie refused to believe it, it must have been her mind playing tricks on her.

“Where’s,” Katie's mouth was dry, and she paused, forced to swallow, “Megan, where’s Parker?”

“Upstairs with Uncle Ronnie,” Megan waved off, her eyes falling back to her book.

Katie moved quickly, taking the stairs two at a time despite her arms feeling heavy and her legs unsteady. The laughter from the living room faded as her pulse roared in her ears. When she reached the landing, she blindly collided with a solid figure.

Two strong hands caught her by the arms, steadying her before she could stumble back. Katie held her breath as she shut her eyes, praying to whoever would listen, that she had run into Parker, or for the first time in years, she wished that she had collided with her husband. But she knew it wasn’t either of them.

She didn’t need to look to know who it was holding her so carefully in place. She’d feel this touch before– gentle but firm, it was a comforting touch she’d never forgotten. On so many nights it had crept into her dreams, leaving her craving more but Katie had told herself she could never feel again.

“Mom!” Parker’s voice broke through her thoughts, his concern heavy as he came up behind the figure that still held her. “Are you okay?”

Katie swallowed hard, her mouth dry as she let herself look up. Jeremy towered over her with a soft smile, and just past him was her son.

“I’m fine,” she managed to say, her voice softer than she’d expected.

Jeremy’s hands lingered for just a moment longer before they fell away. She felt the absence of them instantly, the cool air of the house passing over her skin in the absence of his warmth.

“I just… Megan mentioned we had a guest?” Katie’s voice wavered, but she steadied it with a quick breath.

“Oh, yeah,” Parker said, his grin sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry mom. Sway’s staying with us for Christmas. I thought it would be okay.”

Katie blinked, her stomach tightening. Of course it wasn’t okay, but on the surface, she had to pretend that it was. Because if it wasn’t, Parker would ask why and Katie would never be able to answer him…

Jeremy spoke, his tone warm, “I brought an extra turkey, and set up the tree, anything else you need, Ms. Stacey, just let me know. It’s the least I could do.”

Katie’s legs pressed firm together as his words, suddenly feeling weak right through to her very core. To anyone else, it would have sounded like Jeremy was being kind, but Katie knew that anything truly meant anything.

“Thank you, Jeremy. That’s very thoughtful. If you’ll excuse me, I should start dinner.”

She descended slowly, her mind spinning. Each step felt heavier than the last, her composure threatening to slip as she reached the bottom.

Dottie was waiting for her at the bottom of the steps. Her wide eyes met Katie’s as the twins chattered excitedly about the tree. No words passed between them, they didn’t need to, not when Katie’s eyes said it all.

Yes, this was Jeremy. The Jeremy she had slept with for just a year before. Back when he had been nothing more than a stranger to her– and before she discovered he was the goaltender for his son’s hockey team.

Dottie gave her a knowing look as she directed her twins towards the living room. “Go help Parker with the tree. Mom’s going to help Aunt Katie,” she said, falling into stride behind Katie.

They said nothing, the kitchen quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and distant laughter from the next room. Among them, she could hear Jeremy’s laugh, a sound Katie had once thought she would never hear again.

The bottle of wine thudded against the countertop as Dottie uncorked it with practiced ease. She didn’t ask questions, she didn’t push, just poured two glasses and slid one into Katie’s waiting hand.

Katie wrapped her fingers around the glass, staring down at the swirling red liquid as if it could solve all her problems. Taking a long steady sip, Katie drowned her senses in the flavor of the sweet red wine and tried to ignore just how complicated her Christmas had become.

The warm glow of the chandelier above the dinner table bathed Katie in soft light as laughter and clatter of silverware filled the room. Brayden and Brandon, full of boundless energy, captivated everyone’s attention, and Katie couldn’t help but smile as she watched them. Christmas Eve was everything she had hoped for—a cozy, festive evening with her family, even if her definition of family included her ex-husband, his new wife, and her son’s teammate, Jeremy.

Despite the cheerful atmosphere that had fallen around the table, Katie couldn’t ignore the knot that tightened in her stomach. Jeremy’s presence, as he sat directly across from her, was both thrilling and unsettling. When he had joined them, he’d offered a soft smile, his voice low and warm as he spoke. “Everything looks great” he had said, and his gaze lingered just long enough to make her breath catch, before reaching for a dinner roll. Katie had nodded, a tight smile tugging at her lips, the brief exchange sending a ripple of warmth through her that she quickly tried to ignore. And she was thankful for his quiet demeanor. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t seem to push for conversation, and she appreciated that more than she expected.

Katie kept her attention on her plate, chewing slowly and forcing herself to smile when someone looked her way. Though, it was hard to ignore the site across the table. Megan had seated herself next to Jeremy, and was leaning in close to him as she spoke in a soft whisper. Whatever she had said, Katie couldn’t quite hear, and Jeremy responded with a polite but brief nod before returning his attention back to his plate. The poor girl was doing her best to get Jeremy’s attention, but it was already devoted to Katie, though she was trying to ignore that fact. She avoided looking directly at Jeremy, but when she did, his gaze was always there, steady, like he was waiting for her to look back. And when they did meet, they met briefly, Katie’s pulse hastening as she found herself glancing away quickly, as if caught off guard by his quiet intensity.

Instead of letting her eyes linger on Jeremy, she turned her gaze to Ronnie, seated at the head of the table, and Monica, who sat at his side, basking in the center of attention.

Monica’s voice rose about the rest, her stories even louder than the laughter of the twins as they were entertained by Jeremy. "Ronnie’s taking me to the Maldives after the holidays," she said, pushing her blonde hair with a casual toss. As she did, the light caught Monica’s oversized diamond ring, its glimmer flashing in Katie’s eyes.

Katie’s gaze flickered to her own left hand, tracing the memory of the simpler rings Ronnie had given her– the ones that were never as big, or never as extravagant as Monica’s. They hadn’t had the money for such luxuries, or for the kinds of trips Monica seemed to collect like trophies. Watching Ronnie’s lavish midlife crisis, and his new wife with all the things they never had, made Katie’s shoulders slouch forward. Choking back a sigh, she reached for the bottle of wine at the center of the table.

The motion drew Monica’s sharp eye, like an eagle flying high above her prey. Her voice cut through the hum of conversation. "We were so sad when you couldn’t come to the wedding, Katie," she said, her tone pitched just loud enough for everyone to hear. "It was such a beautiful ceremony. You would’ve loved it."

Katie’s stomach churned, but she forced a smile, her eyes darting briefly to Ronnie, hoping for some sign that he’d put a stop to it. "I’m sure it was lovely—" she began, but Monica didn’t let her finish.

With a flourish, Monica extended her arm across the table, wiggling her fingers. "Look how gorgeous this ring is," she said, her smile gleaming, "And this is just my travel ring."

Katies brows knit together as her jaw slacked. "Travel ring?" Her words faltered, her mind scrambling for a response. She looked from Monica’s beaming face, to Dottie–but there was also something pulling her attention toward Jeremy—his eyes on her again, his lips slightly parted as if he had something to say but was waiting for her to speak first.

Her heart stuttered, and for a moment, the noise around her faded, leaving only the sensation of his gaze. Katie’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, before she pulled them away and looked to her ex husband with a pleading stare, silently begging him to get Monica to stop.

"Oh yes, isn’t it wonderful?" Monica beamed. "Ronnie is so thoughtful. But don’t worry, Katie. One day, someone will love you as much as he loves me."

The sudden crash of silverware on a plate made Katie flinch, and she turned to see Parker, his dinner abandoned, and his hand dropped to his side in two fists. He leaned forward, his voice thick with disgust. “You know who you’re fucking talking to right?”

Katie’s heart swelled with pride, but she quickly tamped it down though she wanted nothing more than to smile. She was so proud of him for so many things, but nothing made him prouder than this. She wanted to applaud him, but she couldn’t. Not now, not at Christmas when she needed everyone to get along. She shot him a soft look, her words a low but firm plea for calm, “Parker, language.”

Parker didn’t back down. “Mom seriously? She can’t say that kind of shit to you.”

He was right. Monica shouldn’t be saying anything like that. Not to her. No ever. The tensions between them were the highest they had been since they met, and it was clear that no amount of effort on Monica’s part would change that dynamic with Parker, not after everything.

“Mom,” Parker spoke insistently, waiting for his mother to say anything to defend herself.

Katie sighed and topped off her glass of wine, her gaze flickered briefly to her son. “She’s right Parker,” she said quietly. “She and your father are very much in love. It should be celebrated. Not all are so lucky to find love so late in their lives… or so early.” She punctuated the words with a long sip of wine, and from the other end of the table, Dottie’s soft laugh echoed through the tension.

As the laughter faded, so did the conversation and the table fell into silence. The clink of forks and knives returned, and any words said were exchanged in whispers. Katie’s chest tightened as she took another sip of her wine, her fingers gripping the glass a little too tightly. The sting of Monica’s words still lingered below the surface. Katie wasn’t sure what she had expected when she agreed to sitting down with everyone for dinner but it certainly wasn’t this– a cocktail of bitterness and forced civility.

Her gaze wandered the table: Parker sat stiffly beside her, his fork clenched in his fist as he stabbed at his food. Ronnie and Monica whispered conspiratorially, their heads close together, while Dottie and Ben coaxed their kids to eat a few more bites.

Katie’s eyes stopped on Megan, leaning toward Jeremy with a bright smile. “If that happened to me, I think I’d die of embarrassment,” she said, her voice carrying just enough for Katie to catch it.

Jeremy didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at Megan. His gaze was elsewhere, steady and unflinching—on Katie. Not with pity or judgment, but quiet understanding. He shifted slightly, closing himself off from Megan’s proximity and angling toward Katie instead. The subtle movement felt deliberate, almost protective.

Katie’s breath caught, and she quickly looked away, her eyes falling to her empty wine glass. She wasn’t going to get through the night sober.

Blindly reaching for the bottle, her trembling fingers brushed against something warm. She froze, realizing it was Jeremy’s hand, just as he reached for the same bottle. His touch was barely there–just the faintest of feelings as they had met by accident.

Katie watched as his thick fingers coiled around the neck of the bottle and poured himself more wine. But his touch had lingered just long enough that Katie could still feel it, as the legs of his chair squealed against the floor. Jeremy stood slowly, his expression neutral, as he reached out across the table and filled her glass with wine.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Jeremy didn’t reply, just settled back in his chair with a quiet confidence that made her chest feel less tight. But then, as he sat, she felt the faintest pressure against her ankle. His foot, deliberate and slow, traced a line up her calf before retreating.

Katie’s breath hitched, her grip on her wine glass beginning to falter as it suddenly felt heavy in her hand. It dropped to the table before she could try to catch it, the sound of the shatter had Katie snapping back to reality.

“I’m sorry,” Katie gasped, scrambling to cover the spill with her napkin as if it would stop it from bleeding into the table cloth.

“Mom, are you okay?” Parker asked quickly, his hand joining the mess of napkins at the center of the table.

Katie forced a smile, her voice shaking, “Yes, just clumsy tonight.”

Dottie chimed in, her tone calm and reassuring. “It’s the stress,” Dottie was quick to say, “I keep telling you– what do I keep telling you?”

Katie nodded, grateful for the lifeline Dottie had thrown her. “It’s the stress,” she echoed, her gaze briefly meeting Jeremy’s before it dropped down to the table.

From beside her, Parker leaned across the table, toward Jeremy, his voice carrying just enough for Katie to hear. “Mom and Dottie are weird like that—you’ll get used to it.”

It was almost enough to draw a genuine smile from her, almost. She brushed her hair back, her fingers lingering against her temples as if she could rub away the growing headache. “I think I’ll turn in early,” she murmured, her voice fragile but resolute.

“You should,” Parker said, his tone firm in the way only a son looking out for his mother could be. “There’s a hot tub out back—just go relax. We’ll take care of everything here.”

Katie hesitated, her instinct to refuse warring with the exhaustion pulling at her shoulders. She reached out, smoothing Parker’s hair with a soft touch. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she said, her voice thick with emotion she didn’t dare let show.

As she pushed back her chair and rose, she felt Jeremy’s eyes on her again—steady, watchful. She avoided meeting his gaze, but as she turned to leave, her steps faltering slightly, his quiet presence lingered behind her like an unspoken promise.

In the hall, the muffled sounds of the table faded, replaced by the echo of her own breathing. Katie pressed her palm flat against the cool wall, closing her eyes for a moment. Maybe the hot tub wasn’t a bad idea after all. She just needed to find a way to let the tension in her chest dissolve, even if it was only temporary.

And as she walked toward the back door, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Jeremy would somehow end up being part of that reprieve, whether she wanted him to be or not.

The crisp winter air nipped at Katie’s cheeks as she stepped onto the back deck, her breath curling in soft, misty clouds in front of her. She pulled her robe tighter around her body, the crunch of snow underfoot lost on her ears as she heard the sound of bubbling water ahead.

The hot tub was a small oasis in the frigid night, steam rising in soft tendrils against the dark sky. Katie hesitated at the edge, her eyes scanning the yard for any sign of life, but it was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling. She exhaled slowly, peeling off the layers she’d brought with her until she was left in her swimsuit.

The water welcomed her like an old friend, the heat seeping into her muscles as she sank into its depths with a sigh. For the first time that evening, the tension in her shoulders began to melt away, replaced by a soothing warmth that wrapped around her like a blanket.

She settled into the corner, facing the sliding glass doors that led back into the house. The glow from inside cast a soft light across the deck, but it felt distant, as though she had managed to leave all the chaos and noise behind.

The sound of the water bubbling and the gentle rustle of wind through the trees dulled her senses. She leaned her head back, the steam curling around her face, and closed her eyes. For just a moment, she let herself drift, the night wrapping her in its stillness.

Katie let the calm envelop her, wrapping around her like a cocoon. For the first time since her plane had lifted off that morning, she felt at peace. She savored it, knowing it was fleeting—knowing it would dissolve the moment she slid the door open and stepped back into the noise of children’s laughter, Monica’s relentless self-importance, and the inevitable chaos of Christmas.

"You don’t have to go back inside yet," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the steady hum of the water. She felt the tension creeping back into her shoulders at the mere thought of rejoining the fray, but she pushed it down, letting the warmth of the water soothe her nerves.

Just as she began to reclaim the fleeting relief, the sharp sound of the sliding door broke the stillness. Her heart sank. With a sigh, she cracked her eyes open, fully expecting to see Dottie or Parker checking on her. But the figure stepping into the glow of the deck lights wasn’t who she expected.

It was Jeremy.

Her body tensed, her calm shattered in an instant. She shot upright, the sudden motion sending ripples across the surface of the water, the heat lapping against her skin. He walked toward her, his long strides careful, purposeful. Each step followed the faint path he had left in the snow, his breath visible in the cold air.

Katie’s pulse quickened. A part of her wanted to sink below the surface, to disappear into the steam and pretend he hadn’t found her sanctuary. But she couldn’t move—his presence rooted her in place.

He stopped just short of the tub, crouching in the snow until he was at her eye level. For a moment, he said nothing, just held her gaze with an intensity that made her breath hitch. Then, without a word, he extended his hand, offering her a glass of wine.

“I don’t think I should have another,” Katie told him, sinking deeper into the water, until it was only her head that bobbed above the surface.

Jeremy smirked, holding the glass just out of her reach. “Considering your last one ended up all over the table, I don’t think this one will hurt.”

Her arm emerged cautiously from the water, ripping the surface as she reached for the glass. Their fingers brushed, and this time, neither of them pulled away. They both held the glass, a sudden grounding force that had Katie easing herself out of the water. Her swimsuit clung to her skim, emphasizing the soft curves of her body. For a moment, and his warm eyes dragged over her body, Jeremy looked as though he might climb in, fully dressed.

But instead, he leaned in closer, his voice low and intimate, meant for her ears alone. “You left the dinner table because of me, didn’t you?”

Katie’s face flushed red hot.

“There were many reasons I didn’t want to be seated at that table,” she said, her voice steady despite the way his gaze held her captive. For the first time all evening, she didn’t look away. Instead she allowed herself a moment to take him in–the quiet intensity of his eyes, the subtle curve of his lips, and the he seemed entirely at ease yet so focused on her.

“You weren’t one of them” she continued, her tone softening.

Jeremy’s grin deepened, soft but unmistakably wicked. "Good, because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since you walked in tonight."

Her pulse quickened, the admission sending a ripple through her resolve. But she managed to hold her ground, her voice quieter now. "We can’t… do this."

Jeremy’s grin turned playful, though his eyes remained serious. “Dottie and Parker were busy in the kitchen-”

“You know that’s not what I meant, Jeremy,” Katie said, her tone growing firmer.

“I know,” he admitted, exhaling as he let the glass fall into her hold alone. Then, he sat himself down on the hard plastic of the hot tub. His hand dipped down into the water, swirling it idly. “Anything else I can do to help you relax?”

Katie hesitated, gripping the rim of the tub as if it would keep her from doing anything stupid. “We can’t,” she repeated.

“Why not? You didn’t seem to have any problem with us before.”

Her breath hitched. “I didn’t know who you were before.”

Jeremy’s brow lifted, his smirk returning. “Oh, so you only sleep with strangers, that’s it? Kinky.”

“No, no that’s not-” Katie stammered, her words tangling her tongue as she tried to protest.

“Is it that you think I’m too young for you?” Jeremy pressed, his teasing tone refusing to let up.

Katie groaned, the sound low and frustrated. His words hit a nerve. Her chest tightened at the thought—how similar their relationship was to the one Ronnie had with Monica. She hated that she could compare herself to the man who had once made her feel small and uncertain of herself.

“I knew you were younger,” she shot back.

“Then I don’t see the-”

Her voice dropped, heavy with finality. “I don’t sleep with my son’s friends.”

“That’s a shame,” Jeremy spoke, his tone low and edged with humor, “you would’ve been the perfect gift for me to unwrap for the first night of Hannukah.” Slowly, Jeremy pushed himself to his feet, and brushed the snow from his pants as he prepared to leave. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me, Katie.”

With that, Jeremy turned, retracing his footprints back into the house. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Katie alone once more. She stared down at the wine glass in her hand, watching it swirl as she twisted it between her fingers. The dark liquid swirled hypnotically, tempting her into taking a sip, to dull the tensions that crept back into her shoulders. But she knew better. Wine had a way of loosening her resolve, and the last thing she needed was to make the same mistake twice.

Katie tipped the glass, slowly pouring it into the snow. The deep red stained the pristine white, fading to pink as the liquid seeped in. She smiled softly at the colors, a fleeting moment of calm, until the door creaked open again, followed by an exaggerated gasp.

“I can’t believe you just wasted perfectly good wine,” Dottie explained, her tone somewhere between mock horror and genuine disapproval.

Katie chucked, shaking her head without looking back., “How long have you been watching from the window?”

“The whole time,” Dottie smiled devilishly, “Thought you and lover boy were about to give me a show.”

Katie groaned, sinking further into the warmth of the hot tub. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m the best,” Dottie corrected, perching on the edge of the tub like a cat ready to pounce. “So? What did he say?”

“Nothing appropriate,” Katie groaned, leaning back in the comforting warmth of the hot tub.

“I like him!” Dottie announced with a grin.

“Of course you do,” Katie deadpanned.

“So you’re going to bang, right?”

“Dottie!”

“What?” Dottie said innocently, though her grin only grew. “He’s hot, he’s into you, and you’re clearly into him. Win-win.”

“He’s Parker’s friend,” Katie reminded her, her face falling into a semblance of a frown. “And practically his age. If Parker ever found out… he’d never talk to me again. It can’t happen, not here, not now. Especially not here, not at Christmas.”

Dottie’s teasing expression softened. “I get it. I do,” she said, her tone gentler. “Parker’s your whole world. He’s been it since the moment he was born. Your number one priority, and he’s done all of this for us this year because of what you’ve sacrificed to get him here–a loveless marriage, a career that paid well but wasn’t your dream job. You’ve sacrificed everything for that boy. Just once, can’t you put yourself first? For me? Please.” Dottie punctuated her words with a soft pout.

Katie sighed, reaching for her robe as she climbed out of the hot tub. The icy air hit her like a slap, sending a shiver down her spine. “It’s not that simple, Dot,” Katie said, pulling her robe tightly around her. “This isn’t like buying a purse at TJ Maxx as a treat or not going to my ex-husband’s wedding.”

“No,” Dottie agreed, “It’s so much better. He’s a good guy, Katie”

“I know he is.”

“And a good lay,” Dottie spoke pointedly, as if Katie needed to be reminded.

Katie froze, her cheeks heating despite the cold. The memory of Boston was etched in her mind–the way Jeremy’s hand felt on her skin, the heat of his lips on hers. It had been intoxicated, a high she hadn’t been able to replicate since.

“He was,” Katie admitted quietly.

“And the opportunity may never come again. So why waste it?” Dottie challenged one last time, before she was gone, disappearing into the house.

Katie stood there for a moment, staring after her friend. By the time Katie reached the door, her mind was racing. She knew Parker was reason enough to say no, but deep down, she couldn’t help but wonder how much longer she could keep saying no– to Jeremy, and to herself.

Katie stood in front of the mirror in her room, twisting a damp strand of hair around her finger. The heat from the hot tub had left her skin pink and glowing, a small consolation after the tension-filled evening. She sighed, pulling on the soft flannel pajamas she’d bought for everyone weeks ago—a coordinated tradition she’d insisted on, despite Parker’s protests about dragging family traditions across the country for Christmas.

Everyone except Jeremy.

She tugged at the sleeves of her red-and-green plaid top, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles as her mind lingered on him. If she’d known he’d be here, she might’ve sent him a pair too. Or maybe not. Matching pajamas felt too… intimate.

Katie shook her head, banishing the thought as she grabbed the pile of neatly wrapped presents from the top of the dresser. She’d even bought one for Monica, a gesture that left a sour taste in her mouth. The wretched woman didn’t deserve a gift—not when Jeremy, so sweet and thoughtful, would go without. Her frown deepened as she glanced at each tag one last time before heading upstairs.

The Christmas tree’s glow bathed the living room in soft, warm light. The house had grown quiet, the others retreating to their rooms as the night stretched on. Katie knelt by the tree, arranging her presents carefully beneath the branches. Her fingers lingered on a ribbon as she gazed at the growing pile of gifts.

This was supposed to be a time for joy, for family, for simple traditions. But tonight felt different—complicated, like an invisible thread pulling her toward something she wasn’t sure she wanted.

With a sigh, she padded downstairs to her room, her bare feet quiet against the cold floor. She wasn’t ready for bed, not yet. Not when there were a few stolen moments left for herself.

Grabbing her book from her bag, Katie settled into the basement’s common area. Beyond the bathroom door, she heard the shower running, but she paid it no mind. The soft pages of her book soon drew her in, offering an escape from the thoughts she wasn’t ready to face.

Katie wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there—minutes or hours, time blurred by the quiet escape of her book. She didn’t look up until light spilled into the room, stretching across the floor and casting her shadow.

“Parker, is that you?” she called softly, tilting her head to catch a glimpse of the figure beyond the bathroom door.

Katie’s gaze drifted upward, and at first, all she saw was the stretch of a shadow across the floor, long and shifting as if testing its reach. Her breath caught as the figure emerged from the light��a broad silhouette that sent a prickle of heat to her cheeks before her mind even registered who it was.

Jeremy stepped into view, a towel slung low around his hips, his hair damp and dripping. The droplets of water rolled down Jeremy’s chest, catching the light in a way that made her stomach twist. He didn’t seem to notice her staring—or maybe he did, and he was just taking his time, leaning casually against the doorframe as if oblivious to the effect he was having on her. Katie’s breath hitched, her earlier curiosity replaced by a sudden wish she’d stayed silent.

At first, neither of them moved. The hum of the bathroom light buzzed faintly, a subtle intrusion into the heavy stillness between them. Katie swallowed hard, the weight of his gaze pressing down on her as if daring her to speak first. Her mouth opened, words poised on her tongue, but nothing came out. Her brain screamed at her to look away, to act normal, but her eyes betrayed her, tracing the path of a water droplet as it slid down his collarbone and disappeared beneath the edge of the towel.

“Didn’t realize anyone was still up,” Jeremy said, his voice low as he ran a hand through his wet hair. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” Katie replied, holding up her book. “Needed a distraction to wind down.”

“A distraction from what?” he asked, stepping closer, one hand securing the towel at his waist.

“Everything,” she admitted, closing the book and setting it aside.

“Even me?” Jeremy’s voice was softer now, a faint edge of something unreadable in his tone.

“Especially you,” She didn’t mean for it to sound like a confession, but the way his brow lifted told her he’d heard it that way.

Rising from her chair, Katie moved toward him, her pulse quickening as the space between them disappeared. “I feel bad. If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve…”

“Would’ve what?”

“Gotten you a gift to unwrap,” she said, her words catching on a breath. For a moment, she hesitated, the tension between them thick and unspoken. “But I guess…” Her lips curled into a small, teasing smile. “I’ll have to do.”

“Come here,” Jeremy murmured, his voice barely audible, and before she could decide whether to step back or lean in, his hand moved—leaving the towel at his hips precariously loose.

Her stomach fluttered as his fingers found her waist, warm and firm through the thin flannel of her pajamas. The fabric bunched beneath his touch, the sensation sending a shiver skimming down her spine.

Jeremy lifted her effortlessly, the movement fluid and sure, his strength impossible to ignore as her pulse quickened. Katie’s breath caught, her hands instinctively finding his shoulders, while her legs wound around his hips. Her fingers brushed against his damp skin, warm and slick from his shower, and the contact sent a shiver coursing through her.

She barely had time to process the rush of feeling his body against hers, before she leaned in, her lips seeking his.

The first brush of their mouths sent a jolt through her, soft and electric. Her hand cupped his face, her fingers slipping into his damp hair as she deepened the kiss. A soft sound escaped her, unbidden and raw, as her body seemed to melt against him, surrendering to the moment.

Jeremy’s grip shifted, one hand leaving her waist to slide down and settle firmly against the back of her thigh. The possessiveness of his touch sent heat spiraling through her, igniting a spark that made her dizzy. Without breaking the kiss, he carried her with purposeful strides into the bedroom that had been assigned to him for the holidays.

A single arm reached out blindly as she sought out the door. Her knuckles hit the door frame first, sending a stinging pain through her hand as it found the door and shoved it back with the flick of her wrist. It was her body that secured it shut, Jeremy pressing her back firmly up against it, trapping her frame between the door and the strength of his body.

“Lock it,” she panted against his lips, “lock it.”

Katie wanted to be sure that if she was going to fall into bed with Jeremey again, she wasn’t going to make the mistake of getting caught.

A single hand strayed away from her for but a moment, the sound of the lock engaging was like the strike of a match that ignited the smoldering ashes inside her into a burning rage. Inside his room, nothing beyond the door mattered. It was just her and Jeremy.

With her body pressed up against the door, and the door locked, Jeremy’s hands traced the curves of her body. They dipped down as they traced her waist, and out over the swell of her hips before gripping at the softness of her thighs as he drew her away from the door with an effortlessness that left Katie gasping.

It never ceased to amaze her how Jeremy carried her like she weighed nothing at all. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t falter, not even when his towel slipped or his steps tangled in the fabric. He only chuckled softly, against her skin, his hot breath washing over her cheek warm and reassuring as his lips teased her with the ghost of a kiss.

Katie’s fingers brushed against his damp skin, feeling the strength beneath, the steadiness in how he held her. He didn’t complain—didn’t call her too heavy, or too demanding. Those words, the ones Ronnie had thrown at her like weapons, dissolved into nothingness in Jeremy’s arms.

Instead, Jeremy’s grip on her was firm but gentle, his touch reverent, as though he cherished the weight of her against him – he welcomed it even, as he sat down on the bed and welcomed her into his lap. He didn’t make her feel like a burden. He made her feel wanted.

Her chest tightened–just as her legs did around his thighs–and she bit her lip, a wave of emotion catching her off guard. He made her feel wanted. The feeling of needing him–and being needed– was all consuming, so unexpected, Katie had to fight back tears as her eyes danced over the soft expression on Jeremy’s face.

She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes flickered down to meet hers, a quiet smile playing at the corners of his mouth. There was no blame, no irritation, only quiet determination and an unmistakable softness that made her feel like the most precious thing in the world– and she would be for as long as she let herself be in his arms.

Her touch was trembling as it left his shoulders, the tips of her fingers traced up the back of his neck and into the wet curls that hung there. Slowly, her grip tightened, twisting the soft strands between her fingers. Jeremy’s head eased back into her pull, and his mouth fell open in a ghost of a slack jawed moan.

The sight of him left Katie breathless, her entire body tensing at a single fact; she was the one doing this to him.

With her heart pounding so hard Katie thought her ribcage might rattle, her hips began to roll. The soft cotton fabric of her pajama bottoms was the only thing keeping her dragging her aching core over the expanse of his thick thighs. Her body quivered, her eyes fluttering shut, at the feeling of his hands on her hips. His fingers dug into her soft flesh, pulling her body in close, further up his lap so she could feel the stiffness of his cock between her legs.

Jeremy whispered against her cheek, his hot breath washing over her with every word. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

Katie wanted to groan as angled her hips over him, her clothed core dragging up his length as a distraction from her racing mind that had wanted nothing but to ignore the very thought of his body against hers. Even as she was so close to having him, the last thing Katie wanted to do was think. So, she did the only thing she knew would cloud her mind in the best ways. She acted.

With her fingers still tangled in the curls of his hair, Katie’s lips swallowed every word that threatened to spill from his mouth with a kiss. The kiss was deep and hungry. Katie could taste the sweetness of his toothpaste on his tongue as her own parted his lips and stroked only his teeth.

Jeremy’s body vibrated with the vibrato of his satisfied hum, his kiss meeting the eagerness of her own before it left her lips and left a heated trail across the angles of her jaw and down. His tongue stroked along her neck slowly, priming the delicate skin there for the careful graze of his teeth.

“Don’t,” Katie gasped out, her grasp on his hair tightening. As much as she liked it, the risk in letting her mark up the curves of neck was too great. If it was another time, another place, when her family wasn’t going to greet her in the morning, maybe Katie would have let him.

“Alright, alright,” Jeremy assured with soft understanding against her neck before he peppered soft kisses where her neck met her shoulder, “I’ll be good. No teeth,” he continued as he hands coasted over her hips and found the bottom of her shirt, “but this, this comes off now.”

His hand then dropped to the top of her thigh, stroking over the thick expanse slowly. “And so do these.”

Licking her lips, Katie raised her arms up slowly. For a moment, she saw only darkness as her shirt was pulled up and over her face. It was lost somewhere in the room. The floor, the foot of the bed—she didn’t know where it ended up. All she knew was that as quickly as her shirt came off, she was flipped onto her back.

A gasp escaped her, one that quickly became a soft moan as the heat of Jeremey’s mouth traveled over the curves of her body. His kiss started as a simple peck against her neck, but as it continued downward it became a sloppy kiss over her collarbone. Hockey hardened hands were coarse but gentle over her breasts as he caressed them, bringing them together and giving them the brief attention of his kiss before he was kissing her stomach and the peak of each hip.

His every breath washed over her, heating the cotton of her panties as he lay between her legs. Katie lay there, biting her lips as she waited for the touch of his hands to flutter over the fabric, but her eyes went wide as she only felt his mouth. Jeremy kissed over her clothed core slowly, his teeth tugging at the fabric that snapped back against her body with a satisfying sound.

“Jeremy,” she breathed out, her head leaving the pillow to look down at him as he smiled from between her legs.

His tongue traces slowly up and down the length of the fabric, her legs tensing at the teasing stroked. Slowly she bent them, her hips widening for him. Then, as if she had welcomed it, Jeremy’s fingers traced along the edges of her panties. He teased the sensitive flesh there, pausing only to trace over a small constellation of freckles, before he dipped two fingers inside. They hooked the crotch of her panties, surely feeling the wetness of her arousal there as he pulled them aside.

Jeremy tucked the fabric off to the side, placing them carefully to assure they wouldn’t slip back into place. His two fingers dragged up and down her slick cunt, dragging the wetness of her core up to her clit before circling slowly.

A spark of electricity ran its course through Katie’s body, straight from her core to her finger tips, sending her hips bucking up into his touch. Each circle of his fingers was like twisting up a wind up toy, building the pressure up closer and closer but Jeremy wasn’t ready to let her reach her release.

Dragging his fingers down, he parted her and slowly slipped his digits inside. Her warm embrace welcomed him as Katie angled her hips down, welcoming the slow and steady pulse of his fingers. Jeremy worked her slowly, his fingers seeking out the most sensitive part of her, sending her dripping down his fingers with the careful roll of her hips. Getting her so close with the mere touch of him, until he pulled them free and sat up on his knees in the bed.

Their eyes met, Jeremy making sure she was watching, as he brought his glistening fingers to his lips and tasted her.

Katie fought back a moan.

“You taste as good as I remember,” he hummed, the rumble of his words forcing Katie to take in a sharp inhale. They left her holding her breath until her lungs burned, suffocating, as he dragged her panties down the length of her legs and lost them among the rest of her clothes on the floor.

Katie lay still in the bed, her eyes fixated on the ceiling as she felt Jeremy’s weight leave the bed. The sudden sound of his suitcase zipper had her jolting on the bed, her hand raising to her chest, only to be calmed by the rip of the condom wrapper. He was gone just long enough to work it onto his cock before Jeremy was crawling back onto the bed, his body hovering over hers.

“Let me spoil you,” Jeremy spoke in a dreamy whisper, his hand raising to stroke her hair back over her shoulder. He leaned in, and Katie welcomed his kiss with a desperate one of her own. Her hands clutched to his back, one travelling up into the curls are the nap of his neck as Jeremy worked blindly between her legs. His cock fumbled up and down, searching for her core, and only did he find it when she angled her hips up.

Her core flexed at the mere feeling of him, Jeremy letting out a satisfied hum into her mouth as he kissed her. His mouth didn’t leave hers, not even as his hands stroke down the curves of his waist in search of her hips. His firm hold held them in place as he angled his hips, his cock hitting the safe place his fingers had teased her.

Katie’s lips fell agape in a gasp.

“See,” Katie could hear the satisfied grin on his face in his words as he spoke, “I remember just what you like.”

“You do,” she panted, her hand coming up to rest over her lips to muffle her own words in fear that someone might hear her, “you do.”

“What do I do, Katie? I want to hear you say it.”

“You make me feel so good. You-You-” she stuttered through her words, her entire body weak as her climax became closer and closer to being all consuming. She was so close her words left in a rush of air from her lips, “you make me feel beautiful…”

“You are beautiful, Katie,” Jeremy spoke out in a breath, his words firm and genuine as he gripped at the pillow beneath her head. It anchored him as he leaned in burying his face in her hair and placed a simple kiss there.

His hips collided with hers a little harder, each impact filling the room with a flat smack, pushing his cock to the very limits of her body. It left her reeling, her core clenching around his cock as her fingers clenched into fists around the sheets.

“My beautiful,” he panted, his teeth gritting as he buried his face further into her hair, until he was placing a sloppy heated kiss to the curve of her neck. It was a kiss that became a strangled groan as he came, “my beautiful gift.”

They lay there together, still and panting for a moment, Katie’s hands releasing the bedsheets and finding Jeremy’s body. It became heavy over hers as she relaxed, her fingers tracing down the strength of his back like raindrops. And when they fell back down to the bed, and Jeremy had stroked her mess of red hair from her face with the gentle touch of his hand, Jeremy eased his weight from her, and his cock out of her.

The cold air began to settle over her naked body, the sweat that was either his or her own, was left feeling like ice as she was left with nothing but the void of him. Katie brought her legs together slowly, and her arms reached out blindly for the blanket that was left wrinkled over the bed. She drew it into her chest, hugging it to her naked frame and the vulnerabilities that came with being in his bed.

Rolling over, Katie watched as Jeremy moved towards the trash bin in the corner of the room. He stood there, still naked, with his back to her as he pulled off the condom and crouched down to bury it at the bottom of the bin.

Katie’s head lulled, her eyes taking dreamy blinks as he moved through the room. She knew she should have been getting dressed. That she should have already snuck back into her own room. But there was something about Jeremy that made her feel calm, comfortable, and it had her burying her head in the pillow just to stay a little longer.

When Katie glanced back up, her eyes met the sight of his pajama pants draped low on Jeremy’s hips, the red-and-green plaid matching the family set perfectly. It was an absurd sight—this six-foot-something man lounging in her carefully coordinated Christmas tradition. Her gaze lingered on his Adonis belt and how it disappeared into his pants, but her curiosity quickly got the better of her.

“Did Parker get you those?” she asked softly, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite the unease still sitting in her chest.

Jeremy nodded, looking down at the pants like they were some rare artifact. “Yeah. Said he didn’t want me feeling left out.”

Her heart squeezed painfully at his words. Parker was thoughtful like that, always looking out for everyone—even her. And how did she repay him? By sleeping with his teammate, not once, but twice. Her stomach did a flip in her stomach, bile creeping up the back of her throat – or maybe it was a sob. Katie couldn’t help but feel guilty. Leaning her head back against the headboard, she brought her hands up to cover her face.

“Hey,” Jeremy said gently, reaching out to brush her knee. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” she asked, her voice muffled behind her hands.

“Regret this,” he said simply, his tone so full of warmth it made her chest ache.

Katie pulled her hands away, letting out a bitter laugh. “He’s my son, Jeremy.”

“And I’m not,” he replied, his voice steady but careful.

She blinked, fighting back the hot acid of tears that began to build in her eyes. “But you’re—”

“I know,” he cut her off, his voice dropping lower, like he wanted to spare her the burden of finishing the sentence.

“Is that why you’re here?” she asked, her words trembling as she tried to keep her composure. “Because he’s my son, and you knew I’d be here?”

Jeremy hesitated, his silence weighing heavy in the room. He ran a hand through his hair, damp curls sticking to his forehead.

“It’s a half-truth,” he admitted finally, his gaze locked on hers. “I wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t asked. It beats spending the holidays alone. But I won’t lie, Katie—you were a factor in me saying yes. I wanted to see you. And… you never called.”

Her breath hitched. She looked away, her lips pressing together in a firm line. Her shoulders sunk under the weight of everything she’d been carrying. She had gone on dates since their nights together. Men closer to her age. Friends of friends, her own coworkers, and men she had met on trendy dating apps. But none of them had looked at her the way Jeremy did—with respect, with adoration, like she was the only thing in the room worth noticing.

“I couldn’t,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Not even when I wanted to.”

“You wanted to?” Jeremy spoke, his voice breaking.

Katie nodded slowly, her throat tightening as tears welled in her eyes. She hesitated, her gaze faltering before finally lifting to meet his stare that was fixated on her.

Jeremy’s grin softened into something tender as he reached for her, cupping her face in his hands. He kissed her, his lips warm and gentle, and she melted into him, her hands sliding over his as she held him there, savoring the moment.

“Stay in bed with me tonight,” he murmured against her lips.

“I shouldn’t,” she whispered, pulling back just enough to look at him, her resolve wavering.

“We can lock the door,” he offered, his tone light but his eyes searching hers. He knew the risk. They could get caught by anyone at any moment, but to him, she was worth the risk. “I want to wake up next to you on Christmas morning.”

Slowly, she slipped out of bed and crossed the room to the door. She turned the lock with a quiet click, the sound oddly satisfying.

When she turned back, Jeremy was watching her, his smile growing as she climbed back into bed beside him. She settled against his chest, his arms wrapping around as if this wasn’t the very first time she had crawled into bed with him for anything more than just sex.

“Goodnight, Katie,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into her hair.

“Goodnight, Jeremy,” she replied softly, her eyes closing as the warmth of his embrace lulled her to sleep.

There was no morning light filtering into the basement bedroom when Katie stirred. The only light, the soft green glow of the digital clock on the bedside table. Katie stirred awake, only because she heard footsteps overhead, the first signs of someone else being awake. It should have panicked her, but with the haze of sleep still heavy on her, Katie was quickly distracted by the steady rise and fall of Jeremy’s chest beneath her cheek. His arms were exactly where she had left them when she had fallen asleep, securely around her waist.

Her breath caught for a moment as she shifted slightly, careful not to disturb him. Her eyes landed on the clock across the room—it was early, but not too early. Upstairs, where a single set of footsteps wandered in careful steps, Katie was sure it was one of the adults that was awake, not the children. And with the assumption, Katie gifted herself a rare moment of peace– one she wanted to savor.

Katie lifted her head just enough to look at him. His features were softened in sleep, his jaw slacked in such a way that a soft snore left his lips. Without thinking, Katie leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss to his chin, the scruff of his jaw rough against her lips.

Jeremy stirred, a low hum escaping his throat before his eyes fluttered open. A drowsy smile spread across his face as he took her in. “Merry Christmas to me,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

“Someone’s awake upstairs,” she murmured gently, pressing a soft kiss to his chest before reluctantly pulling away from his warmth and slipping out of bed. “I can’t linger, but you…” She glanced back at him. “You need to wait before coming up. Give it a few minutes—maybe an hour, just to be safe.”

Bending over, Katie collected each of her articles of clothing from where they had ended up in the room. Her shirt had been tossed on the floor, a heat on the carpet that she almost tripped on as she reached for her pants that were left tangled with the top sheet at the foot of the bed. She held them both in her arms, hugged her body, as she searched for her panties.

“I’ll give you a 10 minute head start,” Jeremy offered her, his words firm and free of sleep, drawing her attention back to him. Katie saw his smile first, his warm brown eyes taking her in as she stood frantic and naked in his room. Then coming between them, was his hand raising her red panties in the air like a trophy.

Her hand lurched out to them, but Jeremy tugged them away with a playful chuckle, “You get 10 minutes, because I make my girl breakfast after a night cap.”

Katie crawled onto the bed, her movements deliberate as she stretched across his body, reaching for the silky red fabric he held just out of reach. Jeremy’s teasing grin only fueled her determination, and it wasn’t until she straddled his lap—her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of him—that she managed to grab hold of them. The duvet draped over his hips did little to shield the heat between them, her fist curling tightly around the panties as she froze, suddenly aware of the position she’d put herself in.

Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling with a rhythm she couldn’t quite control. For a moment, she let her gaze drop, her pulse thundering in her ears as she took him in. The way he was watching her—smirking yet his face soft with amusement, and the way his hands rested lightly on her thighs—was too much and not enough all at once.

Shaking off the rush of emotions that threatened to consume her, Katie tilted her head, fixing him with a look meant to convey the control she didn’t entirely feel. “I’m not your girl,” she said, her voice low but firm, though the pounding of her heart betrayed the words.

“You were last night,” he chirped, and Katie’s entire body ignited with a heat that left her sweating as she climbed off of him, and out of the bed.

“Enough of that,” she pointed a finger at him to try to get her point across, but as firm as she was, there was no hiding the color that flooded her cheeks.

Katie quickly turned in place, hoping that he hadn’t seen the effect he had on her– which she undoubtedly already knew. She hopped into her clothes, one article at a time before tugging her shirt over her head and fixing the buttons just right.

Behind her, Jeremy’s hum of amusement reached her ears. “Don’t pretend like you don’t like it, Katie.”

Her fingers froze mid-button for a split second before continuing their work. She didn’t dare look back, knowing his grin would only make it worse. Instead, she raked her fingers through her messy auburn hair, took a steadying breath, and reached for the door handle.

The lock clicked, and a gust of cool air washed over Katie as she left the seclusion of Jeremy’s bedroom and ventured into the rest of the house. She moved on the tips of her toes, pausing at her bedroom door. The bed inside was still perfectly made, untouched.

A lump caught in her throat, tight and suffocating. She reached out, pulling the door shut with trembling fingers. The sharp sound of the latch falling into place almost made her jump—or maybe it was the sudden crash of dishes upstairs.

Her heart leapt as her feet carried her quickly up the stairs, past the landing that overlooked the kitchen and dining room. “What the hell just happened?” she called out, her hands raised for emphasis.

Dottie popped up in the kitchen, bright and cheerful, her grin as radiant as the morning sun. “Morning, Porn Star!”

Katie recoiled, as if Dottie’s words had struck her square in the chest. Her breath caught, her body stiffening under the weight of the teasing. She stood frozen, heat rushing to her cheeks as her mind scrambled for a response. But Dottie, as carefree as ever, simply leaned against the counter with a smug grin, her words landing like a well-placed jab that didn’t miss its mark.

“I was hoping you’d have that reaction,” Dottie said, practically glowing with mischief. “Means you listened to me, for once.” She rested her chin in her hands, elbows on the counter, poised to devour Katie’s juicy secret. “So, how was it?”

Katie crossed the kitchen in a few quick strides, lowering her voice as she leaned closer to Dottie. Through clenched teeth, she hissed, “We are not talking about this right now.”

To Katie’s relief, before the conversation could continue, the twins tore down the stairs, their excitement carrying them straight toward the mountain of gifts under the tree.

“Ah, ah!” Dottie tutted, snapping them back in line with a pointed look. “You know the rules—breakfast as a family before presents!”

The boys didn’t argue. They knew better. Instead, they dropped into the same chairs they’d claimed at dinner the night before, their murmured chatter barely audible over the soft strains of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas floating from Dottie’s Bluetooth speaker.

Their father appeared moments later, kissing Dottie’s cheek as he passed through the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. The quiet routine of family life settled over the house, and for a moment, Katie almost let herself relax. She busied herself alongside Dottie, both of them working in sync to prepare a feast of eggs, bacon, sausage, French toast, and fresh fruit—a classic Christmas breakfast meant to keep everyone full until dinner.

It wasn’t an easy task for just the two of them, but they worked in a comfortable rhythm… until Jeremy emerged.

Cresting from the shadows of the basement, Jeremy strode into the kitchen, all smug smiles and sleepy-eyed confidence. His gaze locked onto her immediately, unrelenting, like a spotlight she couldn’t escape.

Katie bit her lower lip as she glanced at the clock on the microwave. Eight minutes. He’d waited all of eight minutes.

“You ladies need help here?” Jeremy asked, his voice far too cheerful for someone who had just rolled out of bed.

Katie hummed to hide the groan that threatened to rip up her throat. She had hoped he’d shuffle up half-asleep, groggy and disheveled, like a teenager dragged from bed. Instead, Jeremy radiated a just-been-fucked glow that buzzed with energy. A good night's sleep after sex would always be more effective than caffeine ever could be.

“We’ll manage,” Katie said stiffly, pressing her lips into a firm line.

“I insist,” he said with an infuriatingly easy grin, stepping into the space Dottie had conveniently vacated.

His elbow brushed hers as he slid into the chaos of their morning with a natural ease that made her stomach tighten. He moved like he belonged there, like this wasn’t the first time he’d stood beside her in the kitchen during Christmas breakfast.

Katie struggled to stay focused, her movements stiff and mechanical as she whisked the eggs. Beside her, Jeremy was too close, too casual, and far too smug for her liking.

And Dottie? She hid her knowing grin behind the rim of her coffee mug, her eyes twinkling as they darted between Katie and Jeremy. “You two look cozy,” she teased lightly, before turning toward the living room. “I’ll go make sure the kids don’t sneak any presents while you two finish up here–”

Unlike dinner, there were no forced pleasantries over breakfast. No conversations. Only sleepy morning greetings and yawns before the clink of clamor of cutlery against plates. And after breakfast was enjoyed, and the remnants of breakfast were cleared away, everyone gathered around the tree for the long-awaited exchange of gifts.

The twins dove straight into their stockings, a tradition upheld, the stocking filled by family instead now that the twins were too old for Santa. Each and every one of them had them, filled with trinkets, toys and novelties that would be lost and thrown away by next Christmas.

Katie sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch, watching the joy light up on everyone’s faces, her own stocking untouched as it leaned against her lap. It remained untouched, as she stood up, leaving it half spilt on the floor as she carefully handed out gifts one by one. Her gaze softened as she watched the others unwrapped their gifts, her heart swelling at the simple happiness that surrounded her. Even her own gifts, unwrapped one by one, were thoughtful—reading socks from the twins, a bottle of wine from her ex and his wife, and a spa day from Dottie. But when Parker sat beside her, a small box in hand, she couldn’t be left more in awe by his sweet gesture of taking the time to single her out and exchange his gift to her one on one.

“This one’s from me,” Parker said, his voice low and almost hesitant as he handed her the gift.

Taking it in both hands, Katie carefully peeled back the wrapping paper and lifted the lid, revealing a delicate necklace that caught the twinkling lights from the tree. Katie’s hand flew to her mouth as her eyes welled with tears.

“You deserve nice things, Mom,” Parker murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You always have.”

Setting the box aside, Katie pulled him into a tight hug, her cheeks wet with tears as she whispered, “What did I do to deserve you as my son?”

She wiped at her cheeks, smiling through her tears, and held the necklace out to him. “Help me with it?”

Parker hesitated, glancing toward Jeremy. “Actually... there’s one more thing upstairs I forgot. Big Dog, you mind helping Mom?”

Jeremy didn’t need to be asked twice. He rose smoothly from his seat where he had perched himself, a simple observer of their Christmas morning. He knelt down behind Katie as she held the necklace in her hands. His fingers brushed over hers as he took the delicate chain. Katie’s next movements felt like they were in slow motion. Both arms reached up, clutching her hair up and opening her neck up for him. His fingers brushed against the delicate skin of her collarbone, sending a jolt of electricity through her body, as he clasped the jewelry around her neck. His touch lingered, longer after he let his hands all away– so long that Katie thought his touch might have etched into her skin forever.

Katie raised her hand up, letting it splay flat over the pendant and where the ghost of Jeremy’s touch was still on her body.

“Thank you,” she smiled softly.

“He spent hours picking it out,” Jeremy said, his voice low, “Parker wanted it to be perfect.”

“It is perfect,” Katie murmured, her voice thick with gratitude. She couldn’t imagine anything better.

Jeremy chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Which is why my gift is going to look pathetic in comparison.”

“Your gift?” Katie tilted her head, curious. “Jeremy, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t worry,” Jeremy smiled, “I got gifts for everyone.”

He handed them out one by one, distracting everyone with their gift, before he stepped over to the tree and pulled out a small gift bag for her. “Just a little something,” he said, handing it to her.

Katie dipped her hand into the bag, rustling the tissues paper, as she pulled out a leather bound journal. It had a beautiful golden floral pattern on the cover, and its crisp pages were accompanied by a set of sleek pens. Smiling, Katie opened the journal, only for her smile to waver when something began to fall from the pages. Quickly, Katie pressed her thumb down against the page, stopping the paper–no photograph– from falling to the floor.

Katie’s heart gave a jolt as she flipped it over. Just a glance at it and she was taken back to the dark bar with warm amber lights in Boston. The picture was taken on the very night they had met. Her back had been turned to the camera, her drink meeting the very tips of her fingers as it was served to her. Jeremy had taken the photo. Why? She didn’t know, but now, he was sharing it with her.

Her brows furrowed as she looked up at him, speechless.

Jeremy looked around, at what? Katie didn’t look away from him to know, before he leaned in with subtle instruction, “I figured it belonged with the first page.”

Katie’s let her gaze drop, looking over the elegant front on the page that would guide her along the entry. But Jeremy’s messy scrawl had already overtaken the page.

November 2021 – Boston.

Katie,

For You, Wherever You Go.

Boston was the first place I met you in that hotel bar. From that moment I knew you were something special. You weren’t just passing through my life; you were leaving an imprint on it. One that I will carry with me always. And I hope I left the same impression on you.

This journal is for all the places you’ll go and everything you’ll see—whether I’m with you or just cheering you on from wherever I am. But know this: my favorite journey started the moment I met you.

Katie’s lips fell apart, a shaky breath leaving them as she struggled to find the words today. Then, she spoke in a soft whisper. “Jeremy–”

Before Katie could thank him, Parker returned, slightly out of breath from his sprint up and down the stairs.

“His gift goes with mine,” Parker said, his smile boyish and proud.

“Oh?” Katie replied, curiosity lacing her voice. She passed the journal off quickly to Dottie, trusting her to guard its secrets.

Parker handed her a simple envelope, Mom written in neat, capital letters across the front. Katie opened it carefully, not wanting to tear the card. Before she could even pull it out, Parker began explaining. “Plane tickets. So you can come back to Boston and watch me play.”

Her breath caught, her hands trembling slightly as she closed the card and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Pulling back, she gazed up at him, her smile soft and full of pride. “It’s perfect. Everything is perfect.”

From the cozy house he had chosen for their holiday to the thoughtful gifts he’d chosen for everyone, Parker had planned every detail with care. Katie’s heart swelled with gratitude and a twinge of guilt for ever doubting that Christmas could be special anywhere but home.

The moment was interrupted by Dottie’s enthusiastic call. “Alright, everyone in front of the tree—family photo time!”

The twins groaned loudly, dragging their feet away from their new mini sticks. They had been gearing up to play hockey with Jeremy as their goaltender, but they knew better than to argue. Reluctantly, they joined their sister and dad by the tree. Ronnie and Monica took their places to the left, leaving room for Parker and Katie on the right.

In their matching pajamas, everyone lined up, leaving Jeremy sitting awkwardly in an armchair nearby.

“I can take the picture,” Jeremy offered, raising his hand.

“No,” Katie said quickly, her voice firmer than intended. Her gaze flicked to him, softening under the weight of his curious eyes. “You should be in the photo too.”

“Oh, I don’t—”

“We insist,” Dottie chimed in with a knowing smile.

“You can stand next to me!” Megan piped up eagerly, but Jeremy was already moving.

“Looks like I can squeeze in right here,” he said softly, stepping behind Katie.

The warmth of his body pressed lightly against her back, grounding her. Then, his hand found its place at the small of her back, where her shirt met the waistband of her pants. The touch was subtle against the skin that played peek-a-boo there—so casual it could be dismissed as accidental by anyone else—but Katie felt the slow, deliberate circles his palm traced.

It wasn’t just a touch. It was a silent message. A thank you. Maybe even something more.

The careful gesture drew her eyes back to him, a fleeting glance that warned him not to get caught. Jeremy’s lips twitched with a hint of a smirk, as if to say, I couldn’t help myself.

Wearing a small smile of her own, Katie turned her attention back to the camera. Around her, the room was filled with the warmth of Christmas morning—the hum of quiet laughter, the sparkle of lights on the tree, and the lingering scent of fresh coffee and pine.

For the first time since her divorce, the holiday didn’t feel like something to get through. It felt like a gift—a quiet, unspoken promise that maybe, just maybe, this was how it was meant to be.

The flash went off, capturing not just the moment, but the secrets she would forever keep, wrapped in the glow of a Christmas they’d never forget.

TAGLIST: @mp0625 , @starshine-hockey-girl , @wingedwheelprxncess , @kurlyteuvo , @couldawouldashoulda50, @callsign-denmark , @xciciix , @puckmaidens , @hockeyboysimagines , @hagelpoint-3821

#jeremy swayman #jeremy swayman x original character #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #fanfic #nhl rpf #boston bruins #hockey rpf #dividers by: @adornedwithlight

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