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tkwrites · 1 year ago

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Private Lessons - Quinn Hughes x Sarah (ofc)

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Title: Private Lessons

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah (OFC)

Warnings: None? If I should add any, please let me know.

Summary: As requested by @eyesthatroll, Quinn teaches Sarah to skate.

Word Count: 3,300

Comments: After taking a bit of a breather, I’m back with a requested fic. 2 months after you requested it, your wish is my command, Mari. I hope you enjoy it!

This was an interesting exercise for me to write something requested by someone else that wasn’t necessarily my own idea. I wrestled with it and got in my head a lot about it, but ultimately, I like the result I finally came to.

Thanks for your patience and support. Please let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to see in their universe! I can’t guarantee I’ll write it, but I love the inspiration and challenge these requests bring!

eyesthatroll asked: tory!! i absolutely adore your writing 🥹 maybe if it’s in your wheelhouse, you could write quinn teaching sarah to skate (or them going skating together) for the first time. i think that would be very adorable 😭 it’s totally fine if that’s not in the cards for the series though, don’t feel pressured! love ya! 🫶🏽

Private Lessons

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

At the end of every season we have a family skate. It's on the 15th. I'd like to bring you if you can come.

Sarah knew this was a bigger deal than his crafted to be casual text was letting on. If it really was casual, he would have mentioned it before he left for the three game road trip.

She also knew dating a hockey player meant she would have to face her fear and past failure eventually. Even if a team event wasn't involved, it was such a big part of Quinns life. She wouldn't be able to avoid it forever.

Does everyone skate?

Usually yeah. Not all of the partners do, but most.

I've never skated before.

Really?

Desert flower, remember? she sent with a picture of a blooming cactus.

He laughed. There are lots of different skill levels there. People bring their kids and stuff.

Meaning what? That I'll be the only adult with training wheels?

No wheels ;)

She sent a gif of someone rolling their eyes. I'd love to go with you, but I really don't want to be the only one who doesn't know what they're doing. Could I persuade you to give me some private lessons?

I guess that depends on what you’re willing to give me. ;)

I mean, there’s not much I wouldn’t give you. What do you want?

A long pause passed in their conversation. When she finally read his response on her way home, her cheeks pinked so much, she had to put her phone in her bag for fear of giving herself away on the train.

That’s how they ended up at a mostly empty training rink the Wednesday night after he got home.

She found him waiting for her in the lobby, surrounded by a swarm of kids all jockeying for his attention. It looked like a whole little league team was getting out of practice or a game right as he arrived. They were so excited, acting as if he came in just to see them.

Sarah waited off to the side, watching him sign autographs and give advice, and talk to each of them. She was tired and hungry, but seeing Quinn in this element gave her a new side of him to admire. He was patient and kind, and invested. She remembered him telling her how he always liked to talk to kids because he remembered how much it meant to him when his favorite players were willing to stop and talk. Seeing that quite literally come full circle was a gift she hadn’t expected to see.

When he finally looked up and met her gaze, he flashed her a grin and mouthed, thank you.

Smiling in return, she nodded to an empty room off to the side before settling in with her laptop to work on her publication.

A big sigh announced his presence a while later, as Quinn slid down the wall to sit next to her on the floor. “Sorry about that,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her temple.

“It’s fine. I always have stuff to work on, and seeing you with the kids is sweet.”

“Winning me some brownie points?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“Like you even need them.”

Sarah closed her laptop and turned her head so they could finally say hello properly.

He pulled her close to deepen the kiss. Even though he'd gotten back in town after midnight the night before, they hadn’t seen each other until now. He'd debated going to the aquarium after practice, but remembered they wouldn't let him back without a pass the last time he’d tried. Besides, he didn’t want to interrupt her work so close to finals.

The urge to climb into his lap was so strong, Sarah had to pull back from the kiss before she made a public spectacle of herself.

“I missed you,” he said, trailing a finger from her cheekbone to her jaw. It felt like the road trip was finally over now that she was back in his arms.

“I missed you, too.”

“I have to confess something,” Sarah blurted, nerves eating her from the inside out as he showed her how to tie her skates.

Quinn looked up from pulling her laces tight.

“I’ve been skating before.”

One of his eyebrows cocked up, “you have, have you?”

“It was terrible. It was on a first date with this guy when I was a freshman, and I’m pretty certain the only reason he suggested it was so he could get his hands on me.”

Quinn wrapped his hand around her calf and joked, “I guess it’s a good thing I’ve already had my hands on you, then.”

“You’re not mad?” she said, surprised.

“About what? That I’m not popping your ice skating cherry?”

Laughter barked out of her mouth before she explained, “no, that I lied. I mean, I didn’t really lie. We went on ice, on skates, but no real skating was involved.”

“Now I feel like you’re lying,” his voice was teasing.

“After half a wobbly, too touchy lap, I fell and broke my wrist.”

The bemused smile dropped off his lips, “oh my god, Sarah, why didn’t you tell me before?”

Her bottom jaw moved as she worried the inside of her lower lip. “I didn't know when it would come up.” she said. “I mean, if anyone can teach me to skate, you can. But that's why I wanted it to be just us first.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve broken lots of bones skating,” he said, stroking her leg.

She smiled tightly. “I bet none of those were from you falling down.”

“I don’t know, maybe? You’d have to ask my mom, but I fell plenty when I was learning, that’s really normal.”

“It just feels like one of those things that I'll never live down, you know?”

“Well, you and I are the only ones that know now.”

“Yeah and Josh Jackson and all those people at the Reno rec rink.”

“You keep in touch with everyone who was there that night?” he joked, hoping she would see how ridiculous her worry was.

A hand flew up to cover her face as she blushed. “I guess it just lives in my head every time I think about ice skating.”

“I know the feeling, but it was one time seven years ago, right? And you’ve got a better teacher, now.”

She dropped her hands so she could meet his gaze, giving him a hopeful smile.

He changed the subject. “Are these too tight? Can you move your toes?”

“Yeah. I mean, no they're not too tight.”

He smiled, stood and held out a hand, “come on. I can't promise you won't fall, but I'll do my best.”

As they walked through the tunnel to the rink, she said, “This is the weirdest feeling.”

“It can't be worse than wearing heels.”

“Have you ever worn heels?”

“Well, no,” he admitted.

“Then you can't say a damn thing about it. At least in heels, the ball of your foot is on the ground. With this, it's like my feet are suddenly half an inch wide.”

“You're thinking too much.”

“What am I supposed to do, not think?”

“Don't think so much,” he said, stopping at the boards and turning around. “Okay, I'm going to get on and help you on, okay?”

She nodded.

He bit back his smile at the determination on her face. “It's slippery, so be prepared.”

“Gee, thanks, Hughes,” she said, flatly. “I had no idea ice is slippery.”

He laughed. She’d never called him by his last name. Of course it would come out when she was nervous.

“I'll have you the whole time. I won't let you go until you tell me to,” he promised, reaching to help her through.

She stepped on and immediately over corrected, jerking back.

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against him to keep them upright. “Calm down,” he said, trying to sound soothing. “I know it's a weird feeling.”

In all actuality, he didn't know. He'd been skating so long it sometimes felt easier than walking.

“Just hold on and let me pull you.”

Skating backwards, he took her on a lap. Her fingers were hooked around his elbows, so he was forced to awkwardly hold the backs of her arms.

“Can you relax? I’ve got you.”

She glanced down and felt her legs wobble. Visions of the ice rushing up to kiss her on the temple made her dizzy.

“Look at me,” he said in a voice that couldn’t be ignored.

Sarah met his eyes. The dim lights over the rink made them a sort of muddy green she’d never seen before.

“If you keep looking down, you’re going to fall,” he said. “You go toward what you look at.”

“I just want to make sure my feet are right.”

“Do you have to watch your feet when you’re walking?”

“Well, no, but this is new.”

“Sure, but once you get over the fact that you’re on the ice and used to your skates, it’ll start to feel more natural.”

“Yeah, I’ll just get over that.”

He shook his head, and moved on. “Okay, start picking your feet up like you’re walking.”

“Like I’m walking?” she repeated. “That seems really counterintuitive.”

“It’s not that different from walking, you're just gliding instead.”

She leveled him with a deadpan, sarcastic look.

She was about to ask him how she was supposed to walk when she couldn’t lift her heel or push off with the ball of her foot, when she realized arguing his syntax wasn't going to get her anywhere. This was a case where she had to swallow her pride and ask for what she needed.

“Can you break it down, like the physics of it, for me?” she asked. “It helps me to see all the steps before I do something.”

As he talked her through the mechanics of skating forward, she held onto his arm. She had so many questions he’d never considered, like how he used his edges to push off.

Skating was so automatic on his part, he didn’t even have to think about it. He’d never had to break down what he was doing like this.

Seeing how his legs worked up close and in slower motion helped her envision doing the same things herself.

“Okay, come back here.”

He moved in front of her again.

“You make that look so easy,” she said, a bit of a whine in her voice.

“Sarah,” he said, swallowing the bite in his tone, “I've been doing this for twenty years. I do this for a living. I'd hope I make It look easy. I couldn't take over writing one of your papers, or come into the aquarium and start taking care of Walter.”

“Yeah,” she said, resigned.

“I know it's frustrating that you can't pick this up right away, but no one can. You can’t read your way into skating well.”

That touched a nerve and she glared at him.

He let go of one of her hands so he could hold his up in surrender. “All I mean is that you just have to physically get used to it. How long did it take you to perfect your golf swing?”

“That’s different.”

“How is that different?”

“I started that as a kid.”

“So? You can learn things now. You learn new things all the time.”

“Yeah. It just feels so daunting. I really don’t want to look like an idiot in front of all your teammates.”

“No one will care. They’re just excited to see you. We can come back every night I’m in town if you want. Or you can just not skate.”

That caused distress to fly over her face. “No. I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” He glanced behind him out of habit, even though there was no one else on the ice. It was a clean sheet too, freshly zambonied after the pee-wee hockey game that ended right before they arrived. Perfect learning conditions.

Sarah recentered herself by pulling a breath down her spine, “this is such a big part of your life. I want to be able to participate.”

“Yeah?” he asked, a half smile lifting the right side of his mouth.

“Yeah, and like you said, I have a better teacher now.”

“Tell me about your day,” he said.

“Okay,” she answered, dubious of his intentions.

“It’ll help you to stop thinking about what your body’s doing. I think you’ll find it will sort itself out if you let it.”

He could tell she didn’t really believe him, but went ahead anyway, telling him about the little boy at the aquarium that afternoon who had insisted he’d caught an octopus as big as Walter and thrown it back the last time he and his mom had gone fishing.

“I mean, maybe he did,” she said, shrugging. “But his teacher gave me this look like, ‘don’t believe a single word he says’. I felt bad, She just looked so tired of him.”

Quinn laughed and decided not to point out that she was skating perfectly naturally now that she was out of her head about it. “What happened in class?”

“Well, even if I get a C on my comparative physiology final, I’ll still pass the class.”

“That’s huge, Sarah,” he said.

“Yeah, it's such a relief, but then, Paul dropped that he's adding a test on top of our publication. Thankfully it’s not a huge part of my grade, but still, more on the pile. He’s calling it a review, but that just means it’ll cover everything we’ve studied this term.”

“That doesn’t seem fair for him to add that at the last second.”

“Well, he can do what he wants, so,” she shrugged. “He said he thinks we need it. I think he's just being a controlling jackass.”

“Can't you report him or something?”

“For what?”

“For changing the syllabus so late.”

“Well, he's the head of the program, so I can't complain to him, plus if I went to the dean, I'm pretty certain she'd tell me ‘this is graduate school, and you should grow up.’”

Quinn winced.

“Yeah. He's just a dick because he can be. He’s the lord over this little kingdom and he wants us all to know it.”

She shook her head, “I’m sorry, we can be done talking about him.”

“You can keep complaining if you want.”

“No, it's okay. It just makes me more mad, which makes me not want to study, which only shoots me in the foot.”

“Okay,” Quinn said, “I think you’re ready for me to be next to you.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you’ve been skating fine for the last five minutes.”

She looked down as if to confirm, “I have?”

“It’s not like you were standing still.”

“But you’ve been pulling me.”

“I was, but I’ve mostly just been holding your hand, keeping distance. You've been moving yourself forward.”

“Really?” Shaking her head, Sarah laughed a little to herself, “you really are a better teacher.”

He gave her a wink and spun to stand next to her.

“Keep talking,” he encouraged.

“About what?”

She didn’t know what to look at now. There were empty stands, and scratched glass, and the whole smooth sheet of ice, lines etching a curving lacey pattern around the perimeter.

“Whatever you want.”

“I don't -” glancing down, she remembered his advice and jerked up. The sudden movement caused her to promptly fall on her rear with a frustrated grunt.

Her hands fell to her sides in a gesture that said, why is this so hard for me?

“You're doing great.”

“I just fell down.”

“So? I fall all the time. You just need to learn to get back up.”

He did fall, and she was always so impressed with his ability to just pop back up and continue playing as if nothing happened.

He coached her back onto her feet, and they continued around the rink as he told her about the road trip he’d just come home from. Only five days away, but the comeback overtime loss and two wins made it a huge confidence builder.

He admitted that though some of the strain was lessened for the next month with their guaranteed spot in the finals, he still felt so much pressure to perform.

“There was this moment on Friday, though, where we were just gelling, you know, and it felt like ‘we deserve this now.’”

“Of course you deserve it. You work your ass off for that team, Quinn.”

Throwing her a thankful smile, he said, “I mean we all do it together.”

“And you’re a big reason everyone is buying in.”

“Look at you, learning hockey talk.”

“That is something I can read my way into.” she joked. “Plus your mom explained a bunch of the idioms to me.”

He laughed.

She fell twice more, but got up each time. The last time, she even managed to do it without his help.

“You’re doing great,” he praised, moving in front of her again, “you’ll be a natural in no time.”

Pulling herself to him with their clasped hands she winked, “it's because I have the best teacher.”

She was close enough now that he would just have to lean in to kiss her. He did, because he could. They were apart so much, it only made sense to take advantage when they were together.

Whenever people kissed on ice rinks in movies, Sarah was always struck with what a dumb idea it was. It seemed incredibly stupid to not pay attention to what you were doing on such a volatile surface.

In reality, when Quinn kissed her, she melted. It felt so romantic. Cold, but cozy with his warm body pressed against hers, and the confidence in knowing he wouldn’t let her fall. The only sound was the pleasant scrape of their skates on the ice.

Suddenly, everything she’d stopped herself from saying over the past few weeks came bubbling up into her mouth.

Just the night before, she’d felt on the cusp of saying something other than “I miss you,” at the end of their goodnight phone call. She had bit it back, not wanting that first time to happen over the phone. She felt like the moment had to be perfect.

Fuck that, she thought, now. She didn’t want to hold it in anymore. Plus, wasn’t this moment perfect enough?

Pulling away, she waited for him to open his eyes.

After a moment or two, Quinn realized she wasn’t teasing, and met her gaze, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong.”

Suddenly, it felt too formal. They weren’t in the Elizabethan era where one declared their feelings in some kind of a grand speech, but she couldn’t not say it. It felt too disingenuous to keep holding it in.

“I just…” she brushed her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck as she ran over a few possibilities in her mind rapid fire, dismissing them all for being too much. Honesty, it seemed, was proving to be the best policy. “I just really love you.”

Quinn could feel his eyes crinkling closed as his face melted into a goofy smile, one reserved only for family and people close to him.

It felt like something broke open in his chest, finally set free. “I love you too.”

Sarah giggled and it came out a little watery. She never expected to cry when she told him, but her body always did like to cry over big emotions.

Quinn wiped her tears away with his thumbs before tilting her face up to his.

This kiss was softer, not as hurried. Desire giving way to something deeper – less fickle, and more settled.

As they walked back to the locker room, Quinn realized, suddenly, that he'd left something unsaid. He tugged on her hand, and she turned.

“I’m really proud of you,” he said. “I know you were really nervous.”

She leaned up to kiss him. “Thank you for being a very patient teacher.”

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn & sarah snapshots #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes fan fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl writing #nhl fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic

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sagesolsticewrites · 10 months ago

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i thought we had no chance (and that’s romance)

You resolve to tell Anthony about your feelings— with surprising results. (Part Two to Better Kind of Best Friend)

a/n: huge shoutout to Winnie for once again coming through with an absolutely incredible playlist!!! ily bestie 🥹

Warnings: mature content (oral (f receiving), PinV penetration, literally the softest smut y’all have ever read in your LIFE), swearing

Word count: 3.3k (omg she’s a long one)

Read Part 1 here!

Masterlist

It was finally time.

Anto had finally gotten a break from all the press, and he was coming home for a well-deserved vacation before his next project.

You had been mulling it over ever since his last… ahem, visit, and you decided that you had to tell him how you felt. It had started to hurt too much every time he left in the middle of the night, every time he unceremoniously dropped by for a quick fuck and a brief hangout before he was gone once again.

A few days after you’d resolved to tell him, the two of you had made hasty arrangements to see each other— the “hasty arrangements” being a quick series of texts sent in the middle of the night when you were feeling particularly hot and bothered, resulting in an agreement that he’d show up the next evening.

The next day, you’d spend hours mulling over what you’d say, how you’d broach the subject with him, planning for every possible rejection— not daring to let yourself even think about the possibility that he might feel the same. And that evening, there would be a knock on your door.

You jump at the rap of knuckles on wood, adjusting your cropped shirt and sleep short set and taking a deep breath before answering.

“Hey—”

The cheerful greeting dies on your lips as you take in the new addition to Anto’s appearance.

A thick, neatly trimmed beard stretches over his cheeks and chin, making his bright smile somehow appear whiter as he grins at you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says, a cheeky glint in his eye that tells you he knows exactly what you’re thinking, “So… whaddaya think?”

You step aside to let him in, still speechless. It looks fucking incredible on him, of course it does, and you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like on the sensitive skin of your neck, if it would scrape deliciously between your thighs, if it— No, you mentally scold yourself, bad Y/N. Not thinking about that right now.

“It, uh…” you swallow, your mouth suddenly dry, “You look really good, Anto.”

“Thanks, I knew you’d think so,” he grins, eyes sparkling. His hand moves towards your waist and you force yourself to step out of his reach, trying very, very hard to ignore the brief flash of hurt in his eyes.

“Actually, uh… I was hoping we could talk about something?”

“Oh, I— yeah, of course,” he says, that familiar furrow of concern appearing between his brows as you move to the couch.

“So…” you begin uncertainly; despite the hours you’d spent practicing, you were still unsure of how to start this conversation, “You know how when we started… this,” you gesture between the two of you, “neither of us was really looking for a relationship? And we agreed that it would be a good arrangement, no feelings, no messy emotions, just… stress relief, for lack of a better term.”

You wait until he nods to confirm he’s listening to continue, “And remember how… we’d been friends for so long, we were sure neither one of us would ever want more…”

He nods again slowly, as if he sees where you’re going with this but wants to wait until you confirm it.

“Well— I, um…” You take a deep breath, determinedly avoiding his gaze as you steel yourself, “I guess my heart didn’t really get the memo because, uh… I’ve been seriously falling for you for a while now.”

You clamp down on your bottom lip as your whole body tenses, bracing yourself for the end of one of the longest and best friendships you’d ever had.

“Y/N…” He breathes, his fingertips grazing yours, “I— please tell me you mean that. Please tell me it hasn’t just been me.”

Wait, what?

Your head snaps up, your bewildered eyes meeting his own tender gaze.

“Anto, what do you—”

“I’ve been head over fucking heels for you, Y/N,” he says softly, thumb stroking over the back of your hand, “for… frankly, longer than I care to admit.”

“Wait, I—” your brain scrambles to process his confession, your heart melting as you realize he truly does feel the same, “You mean all this time we could’ve been—”

You’re not sure when you moved so close to Anto, but now there’s barely an inch of space between the two of you as your clasped hands rest on your legs.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, Y/N,” he says softly, tender brown eyes locked on your features, “but you seemed happy with what we had, and I didn’t want to put our friendship at risk—”

“I felt exactly the same,” you say, voices overlapping, “I hated the thought of ruining what we had.”

“Seems like if we had just talked about this a little sooner we could’ve been enjoying more than our current arrangement,” Anto says with a soft smile.

Your heart melts at the overflowing love in his expression as his hand comes up to cup your cheek— how had you not seen it before?

“Maybe we could start by making up for lost time,” you say softly, your eyes flicking down to his plush lips.

With a slight nod, Anto slowly leans in, pausing to meet your eyes as your noses brush as if to make doubly sure that this is really what you want before carefully slotting his lips to yours.

His lips are exactly as soft against yours as you’d imagined them to be, and you can’t help but let out a contented little sigh as your hands come up to cup his face.

What you aren’t prepared for, however, is the slight tickling sensation that accompanies his beard, and you pull away with a soft squeal, face slightly scrunched up.

The concern on his face is immediate.

“No, no, I just—” you scramble to assure him through your smile before Anto can say anything, your thumbs stroking through the surprisingly soft hair covering his cheeks, “It tickles.”

He huffs out a soft laugh, pulling away teasingly, “You know, I don’t have to—”

“Excuse me,” you grin, raising an eyebrow, “When did I say I wanted you to stop?”

His lips land back on yours with a laugh, your heart turning impossibly light as you feel him smiling into the kiss. Anto’s arm — the one with the hand not tenderly cupping your cheek as if you were made of porcelain — winds around your back, pulling you closer as one of your hands finds its way into his hair.

You’re truly not sure how long you stay like that — could be minutes, could be hours — but at some point you end up straddling him, hands buried in his luscious hair as his arms squeeze you tight against him, hands roaming all over your body.

You don’t even realize you’ve begun to slowly rock against him until his breath hitches and he pulls away.

You freeze, terrified you’ve done something wrong.

“What, what is it?”

“Nothing, darling, nothing,” he assures you, and you melt at the pet name as he continues, “I just… If you want to… If we’re gonna do this— not that we have to, of course, but if we are, I… I wanna do it properly. Not on your couch, as delightful as that may be,” he finishes with a soft smile, searching your gaze intently.

You smile, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck, your nose brushing his as you whisper “I do want to.”

Reluctantly, you extricate yourself from his embrace, leaning to press one more tender kiss to his lips as he stands before guiding him to your bedroom.

You turn to him as he enters, a sudden nervousness overwhelming you as it hits you that this is really happening.

The pure love and adoration shining on his face as you face him, however, banishes any trace of anxiety. You melt into his touch as he cups your face, his thumb stroking tenderly along your cheek.

“I fucking adore you,” he breathes.

And then his mouth is on yours, and your mind is empty of everything but him.

His free hand slides down to rest on your hip, using the slightest pressure to pull you flush against him. The kiss deepens, and your hands slip under his shirt, trailing across his warm skin, playing a sort of blind connect-the-dots with the freckles dotted haphazardly along his back.

Smiling against your lips, Anto takes the hint, breaking the kiss just long enough for you to remove his shirt, your hands roaming gently over the newly-exposed skin as your lips reconnect.

You barely stifle a gasp as his fingertips leave your cheek to trail along the exposed skin between your shirt and shorts to grasp the hem of your crop top.

He pulls away briefly, a question in his eyes that he doesn’t even need to ask out loud before you’re nodding, a breathy yes leaving your lips.

Your shirt joins his on your bedroom floor, and he takes a moment to take in your figure, eyes dragging over you appreciatively.

“You,” he says softly, sincerely, as he leans in to reconnect your lips once more, “are absolutely beautiful, darling.”

He slowly walks you backwards as the kiss deepens, tongues dancing. He gently lays you down when the backs of your knees hit the bed, keeping your lips connected as he moves to hover over you.

He pulls away, just enough to take in your features with what looks like awe shining in his eyes.

“Hi,” you say softly— as if speaking too loudly will ruin the magic of this moment you’ve waited so long for.

He grins.

“Hi.”

And then his lips are back on yours for a tender, heated kiss before making a slow path across your cheek, down your jaw, to your neck.

You let out a sound that’s something between a sigh and a whine, relishing in the feeling of his lips on your skin but the slow pace driving you positively mad.

He chuckles against the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you gasp.

“Sweetheart, let me enjoy this— I didn’t get to appreciate it properly before,” he murmurs, “I promise I’ll give you what you want, just be patient.”

You’ve barely nodded your consent before his mouth is on you once more, kissing and sucking and grazing his teeth all along your skin, the beard adding a layer of sensation that has goosebumps rippling up along your arms. Your hand finds its way up to grip his thick waves, throwing your head back to expose more skin for him to mark up, letting out a moan as his lips track over as much of you as he can reach.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so…” he murmurs, moving to nibble along your collarbone, then further south still to kiss along the tops of your breasts, “soft.”

You can only sigh his name as he mouths along your breasts, gently capturing your nipple as he swirls his tongue around you. You let out a soft cry, arching into him as he pulls away to repeat the gentle motion on your other breast, drawing out more soft sighs and gasps from you.

Your fingers rake through his hair as he pulls away to mouth down the valley between your breasts, marveling at the view before you. Sure, you’d done this plenty of times before, but it was never this… gentle, this intimate.

Anto looks up to meet your eyes as his lips continue their path down your body, the heat in them still present but softer, somehow. Like a warm hearth on a cold winter night compared to the blazing wildfire of lust you were used to.

“You’re so pretty,” you murmur as you push back a strand of hair from his forehead, so soft you’re not sure if you even mean for him to hear it.

He does, though, and you can feel him smiling as he kisses his way down your stomach.

“So are you, my love.”

The words send butterflies flurrying throughout your stomach, the feeling of which only intensifies as he presses gentle kisses along the skin just above the waistband of your shorts.

“Anto…” His name leaves your mouth in a pleading sigh, and he hums his acknowledgment as his fingers glide up to toy with your waistband.

“Can I, sweetheart?” He murmurs against your skin, and you nod furiously, certain that if you hear one more sweet pet name come out of his mouth you’re going to die on the spot.

You lift your hips as he eases your shorts off of you, a groan leaving him at the sight of the lacy underwear covering your core.

“Never got to tell you this before the way I wanted to, but you are so,” he mumbles, brushing a quick kiss to your core over the increasingly damp fabric covering it, “so beautiful, honey.”

He slowly removes your underwear, adding them to the growing pile of clothes before brushing gentle kisses up your thighs.

Well, you were right.

The beard did feel utterly perfect on your thighs.

You sigh his name desperately, tugging gently at his hair. “Want your mouth on me, please, baby.”

His pretty brown eyes, pupils blown wide, meet yours as, with one final kiss to the soft flesh of your thigh, he lowers his mouth to you, licking deep into your folds.

You cry out his name, fumbling praises tumbling from your lips as he finds each and every spot to make you moan, his thumb moving up to gently circle your clit.

Your whines reach a fever pitch, and Anto murmurs sweetly against you as he recognizes the signs of you reaching the edge.

“C’mon, honey, please, wanna taste you. Lemme make my girl feel good, please cum for me sweetheart, please—”

Your world goes white, and when you come back to yourself, you feel Anto pressing gentle kisses to your thighs, mumbling sweet nothings against your skin.

You reach down to stroke through his hair as he meets your eyes with a smile.

“You alright, sweetheart?”

“I’m perfect,” you sigh.

“Good,” he murmurs, moving to hover over you once more, brushing gentle kisses all over your skin as he goes, “because I really, really need to be inside you.”

You just barely stifle a moan as you feel the telltale bulge brushing against your thigh.

With one final kiss to your lips, he shifts off of you to shed his pants and boxers, retrieving another familiar foil packet from his pocket.

“Came prepared,” he quips with a wink, making you giggle.

You sit up, gesturing for him to hand it to you.

He hesitates for a moment.

“Y/N, I don’t… I want this to be different than the other times, sweet girl. You don’t have to—”

You promptly silence him with a kiss, plucking the foil from his hand.

“I want to,” you assure him as you pull away, gently rolling the latex onto him, your fingers brushing against him in a way that has his eyes fluttering shut.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he hisses, moving to hover over you once more as you lay down, his nose brushing yours, “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You merely pull him down into another kiss, smiling against his lips.

Anthony keeps his lips connected to yours, deepening the kiss as he slowly drags his length through your slick folds, your breath hitching as the tip of his cock snags against your entrance.

He pulls away briefly to scan your face.

“You ready, darling?”

“Yes,” you say softly, thumb stroking gently over his beard.

Soft brown eyes remain locked on yours as he slowly pushes into you, noses brushing, breaths mingling.

Anto pauses once he’s fully entered you, panting. “God, you feel… fucking perfect, sweetheart.”

You can only whine, murmuring vague praise in response.

After a moment, he slowly pulls out and thrusts back into you, beginning the gentle push and pull towards ecstasy.

Your breaths become heavier, Anto panting sweet praises with his breath hot against your cheek until his mouth crashes once more onto yours.

Your lips remain locked in a tender kiss as Anto continues his slow thrusts into you— he said he wanted it to be different than the other times and it is.

There’s no lips mouthing roughly at your skin, no teeth scraping against your collarbone, no fast, sweaty thrusts designed to get you both off as fast as possible. This is… tender, this is intimate, this is everything you’d been wanting since you first realized you had feelings for him.

It’s… perfect.

“I love you, darling,” Anto sighs against your lips, every inch of his warm body pressed against yours, “I love you so, so much, Y/N.”

Your breath catches, overcome with emotion for a moment before you reply softly, earnestly, “I love you too, Anto. God, I’ve wanted to say that for so long, I love you, I love you, I love you…”

Your voice trails off as he captures your lips once more in a tender kiss, and…

Now. Now it was perfect.

“Anto…” you sigh into his mouth, a warning as you feel a familiar tension building within you.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he pants in a strangled voice, “Me too, ‘m almost there.”

His thrusts speed up the tiniest bit, your toes curling as he hits your G-spot repeatedly.

“Ant—” you gasp, your grip on him tightening as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge, “oh, fuck, Anto, ‘m gonna—”

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he pants softly in your ear, “Wanna feel you come on my cock, angel, please, ‘m right behind you—”

You shatter as your second orgasm crashes over you, tucking your face into Anthony’s neck to muffle your cries. Several erratic thrusts later, he follows suit, spilling into the condom with a cry as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, lips brushing tenderly against your skin.

He slumps against you, both of you attempting to catch your breath as he gently pulls out of you with a sweet kiss to your nose.

“Was that—” he asks softly, still gasping slightly for air, “Was that okay?”

You hum softly, eyes tracing over each one of his beautiful features.

“It was perfect, Anto. Absolutely perfect.”

“I’m glad, my love,” He grins, dipping to capture your lips in a tender kiss before standing and discreetly disposing of the condom in your en-suite.

You make grabby hands for him as he returns, and he gladly climbs back into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

He presses his lips to your temple, fingers tracing gentle patterns over your exposed skin.

“I meant what I said, you know. I really do—” His breath catches as you look up at him, eyes wide and soft. “I love you. So, so much Y/N. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

“I love you too, Anthony,” you murmur, a rare use of his full name slipping out, usually reserved for important moments, or when you’re mad at him. Right now, it’s the former. You want to say something else, but your eyes are growing heavier by the minute, so you settle for brushing your lips tenderly against his cheek as sleep overtakes you.

Just before you fully lose consciousness, you feel him press his lips firmly to your temple, smiling against your skin, and you can’t help but smile as you fall contently into sleep.

You spend the night sound asleep in Anthony’s arms, secure in the knowledge that he’ll still be there when you wake.

#anthony boyle #anthony boyle x reader #anthony boyle smut #my writing #anthony boyle fic #masters of the air cast #anthony boyle rpf

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