#justin tuck

[loisfreakinglane]

Shirley Manson as Catherine Weaver in TERMINATOR: THE SARAH CONNOR CHRONICLES // 2.01 “Samson and Delilah”

[kokehitsugi]

the...tongue thing..?

[zaynservin]

I can’t remember the last time I logged on here

Liam, you’ll always have a special place in my 13yo heart. I’ll always love and miss the version of you that I remembered as a teen.

[sturnsdarling]

Birthdays in Boston

A prequel to 'I don''t know how to forget you', and the full story behind the photo of matt and y/n on the fridge

vibe check: WHOLESOME VIBES, bestfriends to FWB to idiots in love Au. smut throughout (its worth being patient for it trust me), shower stuff (handjob/fingering), birthday sex, matt the much, squirting (its her bday she deserves it), daddy kink, fluffy matt and y/n moments, just all round good vibes dude

9k words

A/N: this was so much fun to write I LOVE THEM UGH. I could write a thousand stories about them honestly its just so wholesome. I know it takes a lil while to get smutty but i wanted to build tension and was honestly enjoying writing wholesome vibes lol also its literally my story so if you dont like it, kick rocks. anyways i hope you guys love his as much as i do

love and cigs, merc

"you guys are actually insane, you're not paying for a plane ticket for me to go home for my birthday" you rolled your eyes, legs tucked under you on the boys' sofa.

"why not? we'd come with you obviously" Nick said, his head leaning on your shoulder as he peered up at you.

"because it's so much money, are you crazy?" you replied.

"kid, you're being silly, we're doing it." Chris rolled his eyes, taking his phone out his pocket and pulling up flights.

"no, Chris" you launched yourself forward, attempting to grab his phone out his hand.

Chris stretched backwards, holding his phone out as far away from you as possible whilst trying to finish his purchase.

"Matt, grab her" Chris laughed, holding you back with his free hand.

You're frantically trying to get his phone from Chris' hand when Matt stands up off the sofa, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off Chris with ease. You flailed about in his arms but his grip didn't waver. He chuckled at your attempts to free yourself from his grip.

"Chris, i'm so serious, don't buy those fuckin' tickets" you near enough screamed, still trying to escape Matts arms.

You threw yourself forward, arms stretched out and matt immediately pinned them to your side. Nick was laid down on the sofa, too comfy to move from when he fell off your shoulder, belly laughing at the sight of you frantically trying to overpower Matt.

"Done." Chris said, turning his phone round to show you the confirmation page for the flights.

Your body went limp in Matts arms and he dropped you to your feet.

"you guys are the worst" you sulked, Matt brought a large hand to your hair, soothing down the tangled mess that had occurred from your altercation.

"shut up, kid, you deserve it" Matt said from behind you just before picking you up and spinning you round, "Boston birthdays!" he drew out his last word, singing it as you giggled in his arms.

"Boston birthdays!" Chris and Nick joined in from the sofa, cheesing at the sight of you, your head hung back on its hinge as a giant smile crept its way onto your faux sulk ridden features.

The plane ride back to Boston was a tiring one,

you spent basically the whole journey asleep on Matts shoulder, his blue fresh love hoodie on and a half read book open in your lap. Justin picked you all up from the airport and brought you to the boys house, the car ride through Boston was weirdly nostalgic, you hadn't been home in a couple months and the feeling of being back in your city, with all your favourite people in one place for your 21st birthday was enough to fill you with an overwhelming sense of joy.

"Can you not just feel the 'og-ness', y/n/n" Chris peered round to you in the back seat, the whole car chuckling at Chris' favourite and very made up word.

"Chris, what does that even mean" Nick laughed, looking up from his phone.

"Its just the vibe, man, this kid gets it" Chris said, referring to you, "you get it, right y/n/n?"

You let out a breathy laugh through your nose, grinning at Chris, "yes, Chris, I can feel the og-ness"

"OG-NESS" Chris screamed, hanging his head out the window like a dog.

"kid, get your head back in the car" Justin said from the drivers seat, yanking Chris in by his hoodie.

"you're actually ridiculous" Matt shook his head, stretching his arm out behind you, his hand toying with a stray piece of your soft hair.

"He just feels the vibes, Matt, don't you feel the vibes?" you turned to look at him, your tone somewhat sarcastic as you batted your eyelashes at him.

A smirk filled his features as he peered over at you, eyes flitting down to your mouth and back up to meet your gaze again, "yeah, I feel the vibes"

The tension between you both was thick, and you weren't the only ones who felt it. Justin was watching the entire interaction from the review mirror, a knowing smile forming on his face as you rolled your eyes at Matt, biting your lip slightly and tearing your eyes from his.

After a short drive,

you guys were pulling into the boys house. Justin pulled into the driveway and Mary-lou, Jimmy and your mum were all outside the front of the house, smiles plastered over their faces as you all piled out of the car.

You squealed at the sight of your mother, fumbling out the car and racing over to her. She opened her arms instantly, catching you as your threw yourself into her.

"Hi, flower" she spoke into your hair, your arms crushing around her head as you pulled her into you

"Hi, mum" you replied, "god, I missed you so much" you nestled into the hug.

The boys were getting all of your bags out the car, Chris was already in his mothers arms, wrapped round her like a baby and Nick was racing ahead, running through the front door to find Trevor.

Justin and Matt were by the boot, Matt pulled your suitcase out and put it on the floor just before Justin slammed the boot shut. They picked up the bags and began to walk up to the house.

"so, whats going on with you and y/n" Justin said, slightly under his breath to his little brother.

Matts eyes widened slightly and he shot his gaze over to Justin, "what're you talkin' about?"

"come on, kid, I saw your little interaction in the back seat" Justin scoffed

"I dunno what you're on about" Matt shrugged, trying to fight the smile forming on his face, "there's nothin' going on with us"

Justin rolled his eyes and nodded, "right, sure there isn't"

You were all piled into the living room,

All the parents on one couch, you, Matt and Chris on another and Justin and Nick tucked up with Trevor on the smallest one. You sat like that for hours, talking about everything from childhood memories to LA stories, you told the boys' parents about college, and how you had found the perfect apartment off campus that was only ten minutes from the boys' house. You loved nights like this, where everyone was all in one place, talking about nothing and everything, tucked under Matts arm and your legs spread out over Chris'.

"whats up, fuckers" Nates voice boomed from the entry way.

everyone turned to see him standing in the doorframe, no-one questioning the fact that he had let himself in the house.

"oh shit, sorry y'all, didn't see y'there" Nate said, eyes wide as his hand flew over his mouth, gesturing to the parents all laughing and shaking their head at his entrance.

"NATE!" you screamed, pushing yourself up from your place on the couch and bounding over to him.

"was' up, trouble" Nate said, catching you in a warm hug, pulling you off the ground slightly.

"dude I haven't seen you in months, how have you been?" you pulled away from the hug.

"m'good man, just hangin' out and missin' y'all" Nate nodded, you both walked over to everyone on the sofas.

"whats up, kid" Nate said, laughing as Chris jumped into his arms, both Nick and Matt joining in on the hug, all of them hanging off each other as if it had been years since they'd seen each other.

Chris finally released his grip on Nate, letting him walk over to your guys' parents and give his 'hello' hugs and dapping up Justin. Everyone returned to their prior spots, Matt slumped down onto the couch and Chris sat on the other end, you thumped yourself down on top them, laying your head on Matts lap and your legs over Chris'. Nate lifted your legs up and planted himself between the boys, placing your legs back over him and Chris.

"so, what're we doin' for your birthday, kid" Nate tapped your leg.

"honestly, I don't wanna do anything" you shook your head "I jus' wanna be here with you guys and hang out, just like this" you looked around at the room, filled with everyone you loved, a warm feeling washing over you as Matt looked down at you.

"nah, we have to do something, it's your 21st" Matt said, his brows furrowing as he stared down at you

"I've never really cared about my birthday though, you know that" you replied, slightly awed at how handsome Matt looked from your position on his lap.

"Let me and Mary-lou make a dinner, at least? we can make that pie you love" your mum said from the other sofa.

"ugh, yes, please lets do that, you two in the kitchen is an unstoppable duo and the only thing I want for my birthday" you groaned, craning your head round to look at your mum and Mary-lou

"It's decided then, we'll have a big family dinner" Jimmy said, smacking his hands down on his knees and getting up, "I'll go get the groceries now"

Once Jimmy left to get groceries, everyone disbursed.

Nick, Nate and Chris all went up stairs to play fortnight, and your mum went home after suspiciously hiding in the kitchen to plan what her and Mary-lou were going to make for your meal. Matt and Justin went on a short pokemon-go hunt up the road, saying something about a shiny and sprinting out the house. You had gone out into the garden, telling everyone you wanted to catch the sunset from the hammock that was strung up between two giant trees.

You were laying in the net, swinging slightly as you stared off into the orange sunset, colours of pink and yellow illuminated the whole sky, the view from the top of the hill the boys' house was situated on giving you a near perfect view of the Boston skyline as the sun ducked behind it.

"Hey" Matts voice softly interrupted your solace.

You turned to look at him as he walked over to you, a giant smile engulfing your features at the sight of him.

"hey" you said, staring up at him as he rocked the edge of the hammock, "d'you wanna watch the sunset with me?"

"mhm" Matt nodded, "scooch up, pretty girl" he said, clumsily getting in the hammock and pulling you into him, his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead and rested his chin on your head, rubbing small circles over your skin as you both swayed in the warm Boston breeze.

"thankyou, for doing this" you said, turning up to face him.

"doing what?" he smiled down at you

"bringing me home, I don't realise how much I miss it until I'm back" you said, turning back to face the skyline but quickly returning your gaze to Matts soft features, the orange light making his eyes shine as he smiled down at you.

"of course, anything for our best girl" Matt ruffled your hair in his fingers.

"I know its lame but, I really do feel the og-ness" you chuckled, quoting Chris from earlier.

Matt erupted into laughter, "kids really got a way with words" he said, refereing to Chris.

You laughed in response, your giggles making Matt laugh even more as he watched you throw your head back. Your laughter subsided and you settled into each other, watching the sun go down as you swayed in the tiny hammock. For a short moment, Matt let himself forget that you weren't actually together, eyes flitting over your soft profile as you stared off into the distance, taking in the view and simply relishing in the feeling of being home. You could feel his eyes on you, and turned to face him, blinking at him like a cat.

"what?" you smiled, a red colour dusting your cheeks.

"oh, nothin' you're jus-" Matt cut himself off, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "you're jus' really pretty"

You rolled your eyes and smiled, swatting his chest slightly. He caught your hand, bringing it to his face and planting a kiss on your palm. He placed your hand on his face, leaning into your touch as you shifted closer to him. He let his eyes wander to your glossy lips, and you pulled at him slightly, edging his face closer to yours. Just as your lips brushed over each others, a booming voice interrupted your moment.

"Matt, y/n/n, dinners ready" Justin said from the back door.

You both quickly drew away from each other, Matt turned to look over his shoulder at Justin and you perched up with a hand on his chest. You looked at each other and not so gracefully got out of the hammock, you walking a little ahead of Matt and brushing past Justin with a smile. Matt was just a bit behind you, eyes fixated on your figure as you sauntered through the house.

"nothin' going on my ass" Justin muttered, grabbing Matt by the shoulder as he walked past him.

Matt just laughed and shook his head, pressing his tongue into the side of his cheek and turning to look at his brother sheepishly.

"don't worry, kid, your guys' little secret is safe w'me" Justin whispered just before walking off into the kitchen.

The next morning,

everyone was at the boys' house, you ended up staying the night in Nicks room after hours of chatting about anything and everything. Your mum had showed up early hours of that morning, wanting to be there when you woke up. Everyone had crept into Nicks bedroom, all holding balloons and gifts for you as they quietly shuffled and squished up at the end of his bed. You were dead asleep, hugging Nicks pillow as you felt the bed shift slightly. Your eyes fluttered open, and you were met with everyone; your mum, Mary-lou, Jimmy, the boys and Justin all cheesing at you from the end of the bed

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY" they all shouted in unison, Chris popped a confetti popper and Matt blew air into his party blower.

You laughed, covering your face with your hands as Nick clicked the film camera, the flash of light hurting your still sleepy eyes.

Your mum came forward, leaning on the bed and giving you a tight hug, "happy birthday, my sweet"

"thanks mum" you smiled into the hug.

Your mum pulled away and planted a kiss on your forehead. Everyone came forward one by one, giving you loving hugs and soft happy birthdays. The boys were last, and in perfect unison, they all jumped on top of you.

"BIRTHDAY BUNDLE" Nick screamed as a belly laugh erupted from your throat.

They all piled on top of you, squishing you beneath their weight as they laughed like little kids. You were giggling uncontrollably, nearly winded from their weight but consumed by laughter.

"I remember birthday bundles, you guys used to do that every year when you were little" Mary-lou said, chuckling to herself at the sight of her kids piled on top of you.

"Its a tradition" Chris said from beneath Matt, shifting where he was slightly to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

"you guys are insane" you chuckled as the boys got off you one by one, "thank you" you smiled, looking at the room full of everyone you loved and feeling utterly grateful for their existence.

"okay, get up and shower, we're going shopping" Nick said, dragging you out his bed.

"shopping? why?" you questioned, stretching the tiredness out of your bones

"because, dumbass, its your birthday" he said, stating the obvious

you let out a breathy laugh through your nose and shook your head, "okay" you said as everyone piled out the room.

The shower water ran down your back,

the warmth soothing your skin as you tipped your head back, letting the water run over your face and down through your hair. There was a sudden cold waft of air in the steamy room and the sensation pulled you from your blissful moment. You ran your hands over your face, getting the water out of your eyes as you fluttered them open. You were met with a grinning, naked Matt standing in front of you, before you could open your mouth to be shocked, his hand was wrapped around your mouth, his finger coming to his mouth to shush you.

"shhh, pretty girl, s'only me" he said, moving his hand from your mouth and wrapping it round the side of your jaw.

"Matt? what're yo-" your questioning was cut off by him pulling your lips to his, he kissed you feverishly, his hand snaking round to the base of your spine to pull your wet body into him.

Your hands found his face immediately, returning the kiss as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, the warmth a welcomed sensation as your tongue pressed against his.

Matt broke the kiss, leaving you aching for more as he turned you both round so he was under the warm water for a moment.

"what're you doing in here? what if someone catches us?" You whispered, hands raking down his bare chest.

"no ones gonna catch us, sweetheart, everyone's downstairs" he said, pressing you into the cold tiles and bringing your mouth to his again.

You whimpered into the kiss, the feeling of his warm, completely bare and wet skin pressed against yours quickly igniting a desperate ache in you.

"mphm" Matt grunted as you moved your hand down to palm at his painfully hard cock, "not being able to kiss you for twenty four hours has been agony" he broke the kiss before quickly crashing his lips back into yours.

You chuckled at Matts desperation as his kiss became increasingly needy at the sensation of you pumping your hand up and down his length. He was near enough fucking into your fist, thumbs pressed hard into your cheeks as his tongue sloppily moved against yours.

The heat from the water mixed with your growing arousal made you both feel slightly lightheaded. Matt trailed a hand down your torso, palming softly over your tit before snaking his hand down between your legs. He found your puffy clit and rubbed slow, soft circles over it, just before gliding his ring finger through your folds, your sticky wetness covering his finger as he moved back up your pussy, using your juices as lubricant over your clit.

You bit down on Matts lip with a whimper, your grip tightening around his cock as you involuntarily bucked your hips into Matts fingers. Matt grunted into your mouth, the sting of his lip coupled with your tight grip around his length only serving to make him more desperate. He slid his long fingers through your folds once more, slipping two digits inside you with ease as you clenched around him,, your head rolling back into the tile as he curled his fingers inside of you.

Matt broke the kiss to trail wet, hot kissed down your neck, still fucking into your closed fist, completely reeling at the sensation of your hand around him.

Matt groaned as you began to turn your wrist, rubbing your thumb up and over his leaking tip, "fuck, princess, you're gonna make me cum if you keep doin' that" he breathed onto your wet skin.

"cum all over my hand, please, Matt" you moaned, the steady pace of his fingers making your back arch off the cold tile behind you.

Matt moaned at your words, "you first, birthday girl" he said as he pulled his fingers from you, using his soaked fingers to rub blissful circles over your throbbing clit.

You couldn't help the guttural moan that left your throat and Matt chuckled, bringing the hand on your cheek to your mouth, "shh, pretty girl, you don't want them to hear us, do you?" he smiled, his pace on your clit never wavering.

You shook your head, pleading eyes pouring into Matts as he worked your clit, ducking his head back down to nip and suck on your neck, soothing every sting of his teeth with the warm flat of his tongue. You pumped his dick impossibly fast as you chased your own orgasm, rolling your hips into Matts hand as your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. Only Matt would be able to make you feel this good with such a simple act.

You whimpered into his palm, the skin of his hand muffling your cries as you came, your whole body shaking as you tried to keep yourself upright. The sight of you cumming all over his hand sent Matt over the edge and soon enough, his hips were stuttering against your hand. With his eyes clenched shut and his forehead against your shoulder, Matt released sticky, warm cum all over your fist. You continued to work his length as he slowed his pace on your clit, movements sloppy from his orgasm and the sensation of you using his cum as lube to pump him.

Matts whole body shook against yours as he let out a soft chuckle into your skin, watching you in complete awe as you brought your fingers to your mouth, licking them clean of his cum.

"you're insane" Matt smiled, shaking his head before kissing you feverishly.

You kissed him back before pulling away, shifting slightly to stand under the warm water once more. You leant down to get the shampoo from the side, squeezing it into your hand and rubbing it through your hair.

"here, birthday girl, lemme do it for you" Matt said, replacing your hands with his as he worked the foam through your hair.

Your eyes closed at the massaging touch of Matts hands against your scalp, your head relaxing into his touch as you let out low satisfied hums. Matt did your whole shower routine for you, conditioning your hair, exfoliating your skin with the rough side of the sponge before going back over the way he came with the soft side. He treated you like you were royalty and he was your servant, peppering tender kisses all over your wet skin as he bathed you, whispering sweet praises in your ears about how beautiful you looked or how soft your skin was.

Once you were clean, he stepped out the shower first, wrapping a towel around his waist before holding a hand out to you and helping you step out onto the cold tile floor. He reached for the fluffy white towel and wrapped it round you, bringing you into a tight bear hug.

"happy birthday, pretty girl" he said, placing a loving kiss into the top of your wet hair.

"Thankyou, Matty" you cheesed up and him and he cringed at the old nickname.

"don't make that face! I used to call you 'Matty' all the time when we were little" you said, looking up at him with your chin rested on his chest.

"yeah, when we were little it was cute, now it just makes me feel weird" He chuckled scrunching his face up at you.

"well, I like it, so" you drew out your 'o', smiling cheekily up at Matt.

"you can have twenty four hours of calling me Matty, only because it's your birthday, and then you can go back to calling me daddy" Matt smirked, raising his brows and brushing his lips over yours.

"i've literally never called you daddy in the history of ever" you smiled, laughing into his parted lips.

"maybe you should start" he said in a low, seductive tone, pressing a kiss on your lips.

"In your dreams, Matty" you said, kissing him back with a smile etched on your lips.

The rest of your day was spent shopping with Nick,

It was the perfect day. You and Nick went to all your favourite thrift spots in Boston, spending the whole day talking about how ‘they just don’t do it like this in LA’ and complaining about west coast prices. Nick took you to your favourite lunch restaurant, a hidden gem in your home down and you guys spent hours chatting about nothing and everything. Even though you begged him not to, he told the staff that it was your birthday and your pancakes came out with sparklers and a song. You, obviously, wanted the ground to swallow you whole as the entire restaurant sung happy birthday to you, but the look on Nicks face from behind his phone made all the embarrassment worth it.

You and Matt spent the whole day texting, as usual, and he was nothing other than loving and attentive. Every thrift find you weren’t sure of he was there to give you his opinions, every selfie you and Nick took was sent straight to him along with photos of the city that really ‘captured the og-ness’.

Little did you know, the whole time you were out shopping and sending silly photos to Matt, he was helping set up your surprise back at the boys’ house.

Everyone had come over to help out; Mary-Lou and your mum were a dream team in the kitchen, making more food than anyone would ever need as the boys put up all the decorations in the back garden. There were party hats, streamers, balloons and a giant vintage style cake with your name sprawled across it in big pink letters.

Just before the sun was starting to set, you and Nick decided to make your way home. Nick sneakily messaged the family group chat and let everyone know you were both en route, just in case they needed to add any finishing touches before you arrived.

When the uber pulled up, you were completely none the wiser.

You and Nick waded into the house, both excited to show everyone what you had got but were met with an empty home.

“where is everyone?” you said, brows furrowed as you dropped your bags to the floor

Nick pretended to be as confused as you were, hoping you couldn’t hear the music that was blaring from the back garden.

“that’s so weird” Nick said in faux confusion, “maybe they’re outside?” he said, pointing to the back door.

“maybe” you said, nodding as you began to walk towards the garden, the music slowly coming into your senses as the confusion you felt grew.

Nick pulled out his phone, walking slowly behind you as you pushed down on the back door handle, stepping out into the garden, eyes on the floor.

“SURPRISE” everyone yelled in unison, party poppers going off as the sound of party horns rattled through your skull.

Your head shot up, and you were met with the boys' entire family and your mum, all clad in party hats and standing in front of a massive banner hanging from tree to tree with "happy birthday" sprawled across it.

An intense feeling of pure joy engulfed your body. A giant smile spread across your face as tears welled in your eyes. The entire garden was filled with balloons, streamers hung from the trees and an entire table filled with food. Your 'feel good' spotify playlist was blasting from a speaker that Justin had set up, 'Home' by Good Neighbours making the grass rumble with the bass as everyone came running up to you, all engulfing you in a giant hug, leaving you squished in the middle of them.

The air was filled with laughter, everyone jumping and screaming happy birthday over and over again, spinning and pulling you back and forth into tight, loving hugs. You couldn't help but well up, feeling completely overwhelmed by all the love you felt. You never cared about your birthday, but in this moment, you knew that you had an army of people who did, who cared about your birthday, who cared about you, more than anything.

The laughter subsided and your playlist began to rifle through songs, all your favourites playing and filling the garden with an energy that could only be described as you.

"how did you guys have time to do all of this?" you cheesed, looking around the garden and wiping the small tears from your eyes.

"It was the plan all along" Matt shrugged, his eyes trained on your glowing features.

"why do you think I kept you out the house all day?" Nick asked, putting his phone in his pocket and looping his arm round your shoulder.

"this is actually insane" you shook your head in disbelief, "is this my playlist?" you said, clocking the familiar music.

"that was my idea" Chris said, grinning at you like a proud kid.

You couldn't stop smiling, you took a moment to look around at everyone, taking in the fact that you were home, and you were spending your birthday with everyone you loved.

"you guys are incredible" you said, locking eyes with Matt, who was already looking at you.

"you deserve the world, flower" you mum came up to you, wrapping a warm arm around your waist as you pulled her into you close.

You spent the rest of the evening eating, laughing and having the best time.

Everyone was dancing about, the boys were making up silly routines that made your stomach ache with laughter as you keeled over on the grass, a drink in your hand and a plate of birthday cake on the floor beside you.

Matt came forward, slightly out of breath from the intense routine that Chris had forced him to join in on and held out a hand to you, pulling you up from the ground with a smile. Within seconds, his shoulder was at your stomach and you were hanging upside down over his back. He leapt out into a full sprint around the garden, your giggles filling the air and only serving to make him run faster. He was chanting happy birthday over and over again, singing the tune with a grin spread across his face. When he reached his brothers once more, he placed you down onto the grass, catching you by the waist as you nearly stacked it from lightheadedness.

You couldn't stop your laughter, it being echoed by everyone around you.

"guys, smile!" Nick said, a few feet away from you and Matt with his camera to his eye.

You both turned to face him, Matt shifted to stand behind you slightly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pressing his face close to yours with bared teeth, acting as if he was going to bite your ear with a wide smile. Your hands found Matts arms, gripping onto him as you squeezed your eyes shut, baring your teeth in a cheesy grin. The camera shutter went off and Nick giggled at the two of you, running off to take more photos of everyone.

Your hands didn't leave Matt, you caressed him gently as he dropped his smile and pressed a long kiss into your hair. You pushed into his touch, finally dropping your hands from his arms and turning to face him.

"thank you, for all of this" You said, absentmindedly taking Matts hand in yours loosely.

"It wasn't all me" he smiled, linking his fingers with yours.

"no I know, but, I know it was your idea" Your eyes poured into his as he fought his smile, you were right.

"it might have been" Matt gazed down at you, fighting every inclination to kiss you.

"you're ridiculous, you know that?" You shook your head slightly, gripping his hand tighter.

A smirk formed on Matts face, "you love it" his tone shifted slightly, carrying an air of seduction.

You rolled your eyes with a smile, glancing away from Matt and locking eyes with Justin, who was grinning behind his cup and watching the two of you act as if you were the only people in the world. He shot you a knowing wink and you smiled at him, your attention finding the grass in slight embarrassment.

Once the sun had set, you all settled in the garden, curled up on the furniture

"happy birthday, my sweet" your mum pulled you into a tight hug.

"thanks mum, i'll be home after tonight, I want to spend some proper time with you before we go back to LA" you said into her hair, just before you broke the hug.

"I'd love that" she smiled, her eyes glistening just as yours do when you smile.

Once your mum had left, Mary-lou and Jimmy went to bed, and it was just you and the boys, all sitting round the fireplace jimmy had built when you guys were little.

"Nate, are you staying here tonight?" you asked from your position on the bench, legs draped over Nicks.

"yeah I think so, gonna spoon with my boyfriend" Nate said, wrapping his arm around Chris shoulder and kissing his cheek.

"cant wait" Chris giggled.

Nate and Chris went up stairs first, saying something about 'burring kids on fort'.

It was just you Nick and Matt, you spent a while talking about the day and giggling about how oblivious you were. Matt couldn't stop staring at you, the way your features were illuminated by the flames captivating him completely. A small smile crept across Nicks face when he noticed his brothers inability to look away from you.

"I'm gonna go zone out and edit the pictures from today" Nick pulled your legs from across his, ruffling your hair as he stood up, "happy birthday, queen" He grinned.

You and Matt were finally alone, and he immediately came to join you on the small sofa you were curled up on.

He pulled your legs over his, rubbing small circles across your soft skin. You shut your eyes and let your head fall back onto the arm rest, reeling in his touch after what felt like forever.

"I um, I got you something" Matt said, breaking the comfortable silence.

You pulled your head up to look at him, "you got me something?" You mirrored his words.

Matt nodded with his lip tucked between his teeth, shifting slightly to reach into his pocket. He pulled out a small box with a little blue bow on it, handing it to you with nervous hands.

You took the box from him, admiring the effort he went to with a smile and a kind tut. Before you even opened it, you were grinning from ear to ear.

"you didn't have to do this" You smiled at him, your heart pounding in your chest at the sentiment of him giving you a gift, in secret

"just shut up and open it" Matt rolled his eyes, tapping your leg.

"Okay, okay" you shuffled to sit up, undoing the bow and handing him the ribbon.

You opened the box with a creak, your mouth falling agape slightly at the sight of a small gold heart locket staring back at you. It was engraved with swirls in a shape that followed the curves of the gold. A small blue gemstone sitting happily in the centre. You couldn't help but gasp slightly, it was beautiful.

"Matt..." you said softly, eyes finding his as he grinned at you.

"open it" He cocked his head slightly.

You furrowed your brows lovingly, glancing back down to the locket before carefully opening it. Inside, was a tiny photo of you and Matt when you were kids. Little Matt was in a backwards hat, holding your face with his tiny hand, innocently kissing your cheek as you smiled at the camera.

You were in awe, it was perfect. tears welled in your eyes as you shut the box, throwing yourself forward and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. Matt giggled, hugging you back and nestling his head into your neck.

"do you like it?" He said, tucked into your hair.

"Matt..." You pulled away, "it's perfect, its beautiful, its-" you sighed, shaking your head and looking down at the box in your palm, "thank you" you said, a warm smile on your face as your eyes poured into his, flitting back and forth and watching as the fire flickered against his blue iris'

"you're welcome, angel" Matts hand found your cheek, caressing it slightly with his thumb as he pulled you into a tender, loving kiss.

Your lips slotted around his perfectly, you closed your eyes and leant into the kiss, deepening it with the brush of your tongue against Matts lip, asking for invitation.

Mat chuckled into your mouth, "easy, birthday girl, we're still in my garden remember?" He smiled, peppering a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away completely.

You and Matt spent the whole night talking,

wrapped up in each other and the warm embrace of the fire. The stars hung above your heads, illuminating your conversation as you laughed and joked, talking about everything from childhood memories to your favourite 'date nights'. On nights like this, it was easy to forget that you weren't together. Everything with Matt was so easy, you knew him better than you knew yourself and vice versa. You just worked, and, you hadn't realised in that moment, and wouldn't for a while but, you were falling in love with him.

When the fire finally died, you both retreated inside,

walking hand in hand through the house, trying to be as quiet as possible in attempts to not wake anyone up.

You crept up the stairs, following Matt with your hand loosely locked in his. You reached his bedroom door and paused just outside, Matt turned to face you, his hands finding your waist as yours found his shoulders.

"you know, I have another present for you" He whispered, moving his lips impossibly close to yours.

"really?" you whispered into his nearly open mouth.

"mhm" Matt nodded, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue instantly pressing against yours.

You kissed him back with matching desperation, wrapping your arms round his shoulders as he opened the door with one hand, leading you both inside to his dimly lit childhood bedroom.

Neither of you broke the kiss, only deepened it once you were safely hidden in the confides of his room. Matts fingers looped around the hem of your top, silently asking for permission to take it off as you broke the kiss. He slipped your top over your head and pulled his own off before quickly capturing your lips in a wet kiss once more. You whined at the sensation of his warm skin pressed against yours, falling against the bed as you straddled him.

You ground your hips against him as you bit down on his lip, growing more and more desperate for him as minutes passed. Matt groaned at the feeling on your warm, clothed pussy rubbing against his stiffening cock. He pushed you up, flipping you both over so your back was on the soft fabric of his duvet. You hit the bed with a giggle into your kiss, one Matt returned as he pulled away from your lips, trailing warm kisses across your skin, down your torso and to the hem of your jeans. Your hands found his hair, back arching into his touch as his grip on your ribs became bruising.

Matt sucked and kissed at the skin on your stomach, nipping at the flesh as he edged his hands down your torso and to the button of your jeans. He expertly pulled them open, breaking his embrace with your skin to tell you to lift your hips up. You complied, allowing him to pull your jeans down at an agonisingly slow pace. As he did, he kissed all the way down the inside of your legs, pressing his warm tongue against your skin. An uncontrollable whimper left your throat, a tingling warmth vibrating across your body at the feeling of Matts slow kisses.

You wear nearly bare for him, sprawled out on his bed, clad in a baby pink matching set he had gotten you a couple weeks earlier. Matt groaned at the sight of you, stretching like a cat and putting yourself on full display for him.

"you're so fuckin' beautiful" Matt shook his head, unable to control his wondering hands as one gripped your thigh, and the other found the soft flesh of your tit.

You smiled in response, a smile that quickly left your face as Matt leant down, capturing the soft skin of your stomach against his tongue once more. He was so gentle, taking his time as he worked his way down to wear you needed him the most. Your hands were tangled in his messy hair, pushing him against you with desperation as he kissed all round the hem of your panties, purposefully missing your throbbing clit with every wet, warm kiss.

His thumb came to your core, and your back arched instantly at the pressure of his digit against your sopping hole. He pushed the fabric against your pussy, making your juices seep through the lace. A chuckle left his lips at the sight, pride swelling in his chest over how wet you were for him.

"Matt, please" You whined, bucking your hips into his thumb, the tension making you feel lightheaded as you looked down at him with hooded eyes.

"you want it, angel?" Matt looked up at you, pressing his thumb harder against your clit as he began to rub slow circles against the lace.

You nodded with a whimper, your lip tucked between your teeth as you played with his soft, brown locks.

"okay, pretty girl" He smiled, letting you get away with the lack of verbal agreeance only because it was your birthday.

With that, he wrapped his mouth around your core. His tongue pressing against the soaking wet fabric as he slowly and passionately kissed your pussy. Your mouth opened, a moan nearly escaping your lips as you pressed a firm palm over your face, silencing any noises that tried to escape.

Matt pulled your panties to the side, the cold air hitting your warm pussy just before his mouth was back on you, lapping at your hole as it clenched around nothing. His pace was slow, but the pressure he was applying sent tingles all through your body.

He was relentless, not giving you a moment before he teased your hole with his middle finger, slipping it in with ease. Your thighs tensed around his head, locking him in. Matt didn't mind, in fact, he loved it. He groaned at the taste of you, watching as your back arched off the bed, pushing your throbbing pussy further into his mouth. He slipped a second finger into your clenching hole and began to suck gently on your clit, pumping his fingers at a faster pace than his mouth was working.

The sensation was euphoric, your whole body felt as if it was on fire as your vision began to blur. Matt curled his fingers inside of you, lapping and sucking at your clit like a man starved, relishing in the sight of you convulsing above him. You tensed and writhed, your toes curling as you involuntarily bucked your hips into his mouth. Your pussy clenched around his fingers, the sound of them pumping in and out of your soaked and sticky walls filling the air.

"you taste so good, angel" Matt spoke into your pussy before latching his lips around your clit once more, his tongue pressed flat against it as he worked your sopping hole.

All you could do was whimper in response, any sense of coherence leaving your brain as Matt brought you closer to the edge. The vibration of his soft moans against your pussy had you reeling, and with a knuckle deep curl of his fingers, your vision was white, your thighs tight around his head as a wave of blissful euphoria washed over you. You came all over Matts mouth, releasing your juices onto his fingers. He swiped his tongue through your folds, collecting your cum on his tongue with a groan as you shook above him, your grip on his hair relentless as you rode out your high on his face.

Matt kept his pace, determined to make you cum again, totally engrossed in the taste of you on his tongue. Your whole body began to tense, legs shaking as if they had their own mind as Matt pumped into you faster, sucking on your clit with feverish pressure. He near enough growled as he felt you clenching around him once more.

"Matt, Matt I think I'm gonna-" You were cut off by a sudden, guttural moan attempting to leave your throat. You tried your best to silence yourself, but the sensation that was ripping through your body was more than distracting.

You released a flood of juices all over Matts face, juices he encouraged with curling fingers and a lapping tongue. He couldn't help but smile as you squirted all over his face, shaking and convulsing on his mouth as he slowed his pace on your pussy.

you went completely limp, shivers creeping up your spine as Matt pulled his mouth from you, the cold air hitting your warm pussy once more.

"happy birthday, my pretty, pretty girl" Matt whispered, crawling up your body to capture your open mouth in a wet kiss.

The taste of yourself on his tongue sent you into a frenzy, and as if on instinct, you locked your legs around his waist, hands immediately going to the buckle of his belt, pulling his jeans open with utter desperation as you whimpered into his mouth.

Matts cock was painfully hard as you took him in your palm, a small whine leaving his lips as you pumped him, attempting to line him up with your gaping, soaked hole as he bucked into your hand. You were locked in between his arms, his body weight hovering just above you as you pressed his leaking tip between your folds, pushing it up and over your clit with needy whines.

Matt chuckled into the kiss, and waited until you brought his tip down to your hole before bucking his hips forward, sliding his length inside you with ease. You both moaned at the sensation, your head flying back to the pillow, breaking the kiss. Matt stared down at you in awe, the sight of your fucked out face making him lose all control. He bottomed out without warning, pressing his hips hard against yours.

"fuck, Matt" you whimpered into his ear, locking him into you with tight arms around his neck.

Matt groaned, pulling out of you before pushing into you once more, feeling lightheaded from the sensation of being nestled deep into your perfect, warm pussy and dipping his head down to the cook of your neck

The sting of him stretching you out was blissful, you nipped at his earlobe, "you stretch me out so fuckin' good, daddy" you whispered.

Matts attention was immediately back on you, eyes wide as he stilled inside you. You giggled slightly, looking at him with teasing eyes as he attempted to form a thought.

"say it again." he said, his tone stern but holding the air of a whimper

"make me cum all over your dick for my birthday, daddy" you said, biting your lip and giggling once more.

Matt growled, dipping his head down to kiss you with feverish passion as he began to rut into you, hard and fast. You moaned into his mouth, legs tight around his hips as he fucked you at a relentless pace. One hand was pressing bruises into your waist, holding you still as the other held your jaw, leading the kiss with gentle dominance as your walls clenched around him, milking him.

His dick pressed against your g-spot over and over again, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrust into you, the whole bed shifting under you both. His grip on your jaw was soft, but the way he was kissing you was completely desperate, heavy breathes leaving his mouth every time he caught a sliver of air. Matt was completely lost in you, fucking you with passion you'd never felt before. The sensation of his throbbing cock sliding in and out of your gummy walls was mind boggling, and the pressure of his warm skin against yours had you reeling.

Matts hand moved from your waist down to your clit, and he began to work fast circles over the throbbing bud, looking down and watching as your pussy sucked him in.

"oh my god" you whimpered, eyes clenching shut.

"cum for me, princess, cum all over my dick, please" Matt was begging, actually begging to make you cum again.

He watched as all sense left your brain, your orgasm fast approaching as he kept his pace, fucking you with relentless desperation and rubbing fast circles against your clit, using your juices as lubrication for his movements.

"fuck, you're so beautiful like this, so fuckin' beautiful, taking me so well, such a pretty girl" Matts rambles were coming out in moans, watching as you approached your climax.

His words sent you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you as you came all over his dick. The tight clench of your pussy around him sent him spiralling, and with a stutter of his hips and a hard, whimpering thrust, Matt came inside you, matching your breathy moans as his forehead rested against yours.

Matt stilled inside you completely, breathing heavily above you with closed eyes. You giggled, pressing a gentle kiss on his lips and he chuckled in response.

"best birthday sex, ever" you whispered with a smile.

Matt chuckled once more, opening his eyes to look at you cheesing up at him. He shook his head with a smirk and kissed you as he pulled out, his spent cock limp against his leg. He fell down onto you instantly, and your hands found his hair.

"we should do that every year" Matt muttered into your skin, a wave of tiredness washing over him as your gentle caresses on his head soothed his racing heart.

You didn't reply, only smiled to yourself at the sentiment, not quite realising the weight of Matts request due to your fucked out senses.

Within minutes, you and Matt were asleep, tangled up in one another's warm, naked bodies.

The next morning,

you and the boys were sitting around the breakfast table, eating waffles and drinking fresh orange juice. No one had noticed you sneak out of Matt's room in the early hours of that morning, and luckily when you snuck into nicks room to pretend to be asleep, he was dead asleep.

"yesterday was so fun, guys, I love it when we're all together" Chris said, already getting sentimental at ten in the morning.

"it was great, I really felt the OG-ness" You said, cocking a brow at Chris. Nick and Matt both groaned at you encouraging Chris' antics.

"YES!" Chris shouted, flinging his bacon out his hand, "the OG-ness, bro, I'm tellin' you, it's a thing" he continued, patting Nate on the chest.

Nate chuckled, "okay, kid"

Everyone laughed at Chris' outburst, the table filled with rolling eyes and warm hearts, because deep down, you all knew he was right. A comfortable silence filled the kitchen as you all continued to eat your breakfast, simply enjoying each others company.

"so" Nick said, taking a bite of bacon, "what did you guys get up to after we all went to sleep?" he asked, innocently.

You and Matt shared a quick look, both fighting the smiles forming on your face. You shuffled in your seat and shook your head slightly, "nothin' really, we just stayed up all night talking".

"yeah, just sat down here and hung out, pretty much" Matt added, a small smirk crawling its way across his face.

You glanced at him, trying to look as normal as possible. Nick watched the entire interaction with a look of bafflement on his face, eyes flitting between the both of you shifting in your skin on either side of the table.

"okay..." he drew out his word, taking a bite of his food with suspicion etched across his features.

The nearly awkward tension was cut off by Justin coming into the kitchen, he walked behind you and placed a firm hand on your shoulder with a squeeze, "how was the rest of your birthday evening, y/n/n" he asked, his accusatory tone going over everyones heads.

"it was good, thanks J" you looked up at him from your perched position.

"Good" he nodded with a smirk, before walking over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a mug.

Nick watched with furrowed brows, his eyes trained on you as you blushed. The puzzle pieces began to slot together in his mind, you looked at him, your face completely straight but somehow confirming his suspicions.

"OH MY GOD" Nick screamed, everyone in the room being totally startled by his volume.

"what Nick? what?" Chris jumped out his skin, looking around the kitchen for an axe murderer.

Nick locked eyes with you once more and your eyes widened slightly, unbeknownst to you. Matts focus was trained on you, and Nick looked to Matt, who suddenly looked very tense.

"no, nothing, nothing, I thought um- I thought I saw a bug" Nick stuttered his way through his lie.

A smile formed on your lips, as you returned your attention to your food. Matts shoulders relaxed, and he glanced at Nick, shooting him a grateful look. Nick was onto you both, but you knew your secret was safe with him, and realistically, he'd probably forget about it in a week. Of course he didn't, he kept it to himself for months, until the moment came where he needed to be a big brother and save the day, but thats a story for another time.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour

[charliemwrites]

Woof woof grrrrrr

Content: Dub-Con, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex (reader giving)

The bar is exactly as busy as you’re hoping for when you get there. Quiet and intimate, low lights, a hum of conversation but not overwhelmingly loud. The bar is mostly full but not crowded. As luck would have it, you instantly spot a couple empty stools towards the back.

You glide across the establishment, head held high and shoulders back. Pick a seat and smooth your skirt under you to perch. The bartender comes to you instantly; you pick something sweet and fruity (delighted that it’ll match your outfit.)

It takes up until they slide it across to you — a tab opened with your card — that the insecurity starts to set in. What if no one is interested? What if Soap doesn’t show up?

You sip at your drink and pull out your phone, reading your latest book. If nothing else… at least you’re getting out? God.

“This isn’t your usual scene.”

Oh. Oh this is worse than being ignored all night and going home alone. So much worse. Just barely manage not to curse aloud as you turn to your ex.

“Justin…” you start, realize you don’t know where to go from there. “Hi.”

“It’s been a minute, huh?”

You look him up and down. Designer everything, of course, brands printed all over him. No taste, though, none of it is cohesive. You wouldn’t be caught dead at his side ever again.

“How’s your arm?”

His expression flickers, hand unconsciously going to the spot where Johnny tried to tear it off.

“Fine. Thanks.” He gives you a long look. Unfriendly. “You know people have had dogs put down for less.”

You run your tongue over your teeth, fear and anger twisting up in your stomach like hot lava. How dare he threaten your boy like that?! Wish Johnny was here now to take another chunk out of him.

“Not when people trespass on private property,” you reply coldly, eyes narrowing.

He puts his hands up, laughing awkwardly. “Well, now. I wouldn’t call it — let’s just say we’re even, yeah?”

“For that at least.”

You take another big sip of your drink. Find it empty. Make hopeful eye contact with the bartender and nod for another when they gesture questioningly. There’s a reason you love this bar.

“Right… listen, about that, luv…”

“There you are, bonnie!”

You perk up despite yourself. Says something that the creep who sexually harasses you in public is better company than your ex-fiancé. Something zings through you when you realize Soap is bigger than your Justin (hopefully in every aspect). Taller, wider, more muscular. Better jawline and prettier eyes, too.

“Tucked up back here like this,” Soap mock scolds, shouldering past Justin. You let out a little squeak as he scoops you off your barstool, hand just under your ass for a hold. “Almost didn’t see you, hen.”

“H-Hi,” you say, arms going around his neck automatically. He presses his nose to your collarbone and audibly inhales. You shiver.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he continues, voice dropping lower.

He sets you down on your stool again with a wink, then takes the stool next to yours.

“Oi, do you mind?” Justin snaps, bumped out of the way by Soap’s bulk.

“I do, actually.” The look Soap levels him is sharp, cold. Bloody killer. Instantly reminds you of all the alarm bells that normally play in your head when he’s around. “Don’t like puffed up knobs like you around my girl.”

You bite your tongue on a protest that you’re not his girl. Wouldn’t be particularly helpful right about now. You’ll correct him later.

“Your girl,” Justin scoffs. “She was mine before she was ever — hey!”

Soap’s got his fist in the front of Justin’s shirt, jerking him nearly off his feet. A few heads turn. You feel hot with embarrassment, skin prickling at so many eyes on your little trio of stupidity.

“Woah!” You yelp. “Soap!”

You grab his forearm (remind yourself not to get distracted by the muscles cording it) and lean into his line of sight. The near-murderous glint in his blue eyes softens, though there’s still an unnatural sheen to them. Something that makes the hair on the back of your head stand on end.

“Soap, let him go,” you say, quiet. “I like this bar, don’t get us kicked out… please?”

He hums, instantly drops Justin to cup his hand around the back of your neck, fingers edging into your hair. His palm feels so big and harm, a little rough with callouses. You try not to think about how easy it would be for him to manipulate your head however he wants…

“Like when you say ‘please,’ hen,” Soap purrs.

You swallow, feel your cheeks flushing as you say, “Then… you should sit down and have a drink with me. Please?”

He grins, crooked and a little mean. “Anythin’ fer you.”

He drops into his stool again like a king on his throne. You perch gingerly on your own, waving Justin away like an annoying fly. Don’t even look as he slinks off, too busy staring at Soap. Who’s… busy staring at you. As always.

“You never called,” he drawls after ordering. Whiskey, neat. The bartender sets your new drink in front of you; you start sipping to gather your thoughts and nerve. “Lucky I happened to stop in here, eh? Imagine if I’d walked past…”

You grimace a bit. A fantastic bit of luck, that. Thought you’re still not sure what type of luck.

Definitely not going to admit to him that you didn’t call on purpose, wanting plausible deniability if you did see him. As if trying to get him under your skirt by happenstance is better than calling him to do it.

“Why did you stop in here?” You ask, looking to change the subject.

“Could smell you,” he answers, eyes twinkling.

You wrinkle your nose, kick at his shin. Want to blame it on the alcohol, but you drink red wine most nights of the week. This is just… placebo and desperation.

“You’re so nasty, you know that?” You huff.

He arches his eyebrows, grins wolfishly. “Could show you how nasty I can be,” he offers.

You wrinkle your nose even as your cheeks burn. That’s exactly what you’re hoping for.

“You can’t keep talking to me like that,” you complain.

He snorts in amusement, hooking his fingers beneath your stool and tugging you closer. Until your knees are between both of his, jeans brushing against your thighs.

“Here’s the thing, darlin’,” he murmurs, low and private. “I think you like when I talk to you like that.”

You swallow audibly, hands dropping down to twist nervously in your lap.

“I think it makes your pretty pussy all wet and swollen when I get all mean like this,” he continues. You shake your head; his palm clamps down on your thigh beneath your skirt, thumb sweeping back and forth over the sensitive skin. “Think she’s fuckin’ aching fer me to make good on all my promises. And you can get all shy and sweet here, but I bet all your cunt wants is to be mounted and bred like a bitch in heat.”

And he’s right. Of course he’s fucking right. That goddamn bad guy fantasy and your shallow, needy pussy, and Soap’s stupid fucking everything.

You feel like you’re about to explode when the bartender sets his whiskey down, snapping the tension like a rubber band. Feel dizzy as you lean away, sipping desperately at your own drink in an attempt to cool off. He gives you all over maybe fifteen second before opening that sinful mouth again.

“So how about it, bonnie? Did I hit the mark?”

You feel frustrated tears pricking at your eyes. Blink and look away at your nervous hands.

“I-I don’t even know you,” you mutter. “You could be dangerous.”

“I am dangerous, baby,” he replies, “just not to you.”

You shake your head. “You’re awful.”

“Mm and you want me to do awful things to you.”

You sigh through your nose, that little logical voice blaring again. He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to use you.

(Would that be so bad, if you go in knowing it?)

A tug at your necklace startles you out of your thoughts, his finger hooked beneath the pendant. You lean in with a noise of protest, afraid he’s going to break it. Gasp as your lips brush his.

“Whatever’s goin’ on in that pretty head, let me fuck it out of you.”

You shudder, hand balanced on his thick, muscular thigh. Can feel a twitch near your thumb. Holy shit.

“I’ll be so good to you, princess,” he promises. “Let me be good to you.”

You suck in a breath. Now or never.

Well, if nothing else, maybe you’ll let Johnny eat him if he’s turns out to be a bastard.

“Prove it,” you breathe.

He guides your chin up, eyes blazing with hunger.

“Yeah?” He asks.

You blink, muster up your courage. “You heard me. Or are you back out?”

His expression goes deliciously dark. “Oh, I’ll prove it, lass. You just sit right here and I’ll get us sorted.”

His fingers slip just that last little bit up and start teasing at the lace of your panties. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to sip at your cocktail while he flags down the bartender. His nails scrape lightly across the fabric over your clit as gets your card and throws down enough cash to cover all three drinks.

When he pulls his hand away, you have to bite back a whimper.

“If you don’t get up right now, I’m haulin’ you out of here over my shoulder,” he growls in your ear.

You’re up in an instant, smoothing down your skirt. His hand stays glued to your lower back as he ushers you out to the lot. Sits you down in the passenger seat of a black pickup, barely waits for you to buckle yourself in before peeling out of the lot.

You’re about to tell him your address when you hear the clink of a belt, a zipper. Eyes wide as they drop to his pants, to him fishing a huge, hard cock out of jeans.

“C’mere,” he near snarls.

“Soap, that’s not— mph!”

The head of his cock catches on your teeth, but that only seems to spur him on, hips twitching.

“Gonna ruin that pretty makeup, your pretty hair. Gettin’ all dolled up like that for any fucking wanker to see.”

He twists his fingers in your hair and presses you down, your cheek rubbing against the shaft. He feels huge and unnaturally hot. You press your thighs together as you imagine how it’s going to feel inside of you.

“This isn’t safe,” you complain, mouth open as you gasp against the flushed skin.

He curses, tugs you up so that your lips press against the head, already dripping. Your eyes widen in the darkness, shocked and flattered that you’ve already worked him up this much.

“Not gonnae let anything happen,” he promises, “but you need to convince me not to spank this pretty ass black and blue.”

You squeal as he releases you hair just to deliver a harsh smack to one ass cheek, the sting making you clench up.

“H-hey!”

“You want me to slap that pretty pussy too? Bet I could make you cum just tapping that little clit over and over again. That what you want, slag?”

“N-no!”

“Then show me.”

You seal your mouth around the head, sucking and licking at the precum beading at the tip. Try to brace yourself, nearly gag as he hits a pothole and shoves into your throat. It’s noisy and messy, eyes watering from how thick and deep he is already, not letting you up for more than brief gasps of air.

“Fuck, that’s it baby. Work your tongue just like that…” he groans.

You lose track of everything but trying not to gag, his threat lingering with each obscene slurp and twist of your tongue. He tastes better than you expected, and the scent of him surrounds you. Musk and pine, something familiar that niggles at your cock-drunk brain. Can’t be bothered to work it out though, not when he’s tugging your hair. Not when he comes to an abrupt stop and you deepthroat him.

He yanks you off with a near-animal growl. You whine, scrambling to brace yourself and panting. Your head feels foggy. Know your panties are soaked through; shocked you’re not dripping down your leg. If you were sitting properly, you’d probably leave a wet mark on the seat.

You moan as his mouth crashes into yours, tongue sweeping inside like he owns it. He licks the taste of himself off your tongue, hands fumbling your seatbelt off, dragging you over the center console to straddle his lap.

You gasp at the sight of his rock hard, angry cock next to your pretty dress, pressed up against your stomach. Show just how deep he’ll be inside your guts.

“Fuck, look’it that,” he groans rutting against your stomach. “Oh you were made to be mine.”

You scream as he scoops you up, stepping out of the truck with you over his shoulder.

“Soap!” You shout. “Soap, put me down, my dog—”

“I’m your fuckin’ dog,” he replies.

“No, seriously, he’s protective—”

He grabs the spare out of its hiding place and shoves the door open. You brace for angry barking and growls, but hear nothing. Soap doesn’t even pause. He just kicks the door shut and storms down the hall to your room, like he knows exactly where he’s going.

He drops you onto the bed, watches your breasts bounce as you settle on the mattress. He strips off int he blink of any eyes while you’re still catching your breath.

“W-wait, wait, my—”

He flips you onto your stomach, hikes your ass up high in the air. You squirm, try to crawl away, but he slaps your ass so hard you see stars. He places his palm flat between your shoulder blades to bin you still.

“S-Soap,” you whine as he shoves your skirt up over your ass, palms a cheek. Spreads you open just to let the flesh jiggle back into place.

“Fuck,” he growls. It sounds off. Sounds deeper, rougher now.

“Just-just slow down…!”

He yanks your panties aside, plunges two thick fingers into you. You squeal, legs kicking uselessly against the mattress.

“Oh, you’re plenty ready,” he says, dark, almost to himself. “All ready to be mated and bred. All mine.”

That finally starts to break the lust-drunk haze. Open your mouth to tell him absolutely not, it’s been way to long and your need to be stretched—

He forces his entire cock into you with one brutal thrust. You scream, cry, try to flatten yourself against the bed but he won’t even let you do that, muttering about “presenting” properly. It hurts but it feels good, know that’s it’s just too much.

“Soap,” you sob, “y-you can’t— you have to… I’m-I’m gonna break.”

“Shhhh, no you’re not,” he soothes, grinding a bit deeper. Your eyes roll back, keening through your teeth. “You were made for me. You’re all for me.”

You shake your head, but he just chuckles.

“Yes, baby, yes. You let me in, you kept me. Now we belong to each other.”

“Soap, w-what are you talking about…?” you manage, fists tight in the sheets. He draws back once and slams into you, hard, mean.

Leans down so he’s rumbling directly in your ear.“‘S Johnny, hen.”

You blink, confused and overwhelmed. “W-what… n-no. No, Johnny is my….”

“Woof.”

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[jjkilll]

-—✫UNTIL THE END OF TIME | JJK✫—-

warning: this is completely fictional. this story details personal injuries infilicted upon a main charater. reader discretion is advised. please read all warnings before proceeding. 18+

— pairing | ex-fiancé/idol jungkook x y/n

— summary | six months after you two broke up, you realized life's too short to not hold each other until the end of time.

—  warning | personal injury (car accident), mentions of blood and surgery, a coma brought on by personal injury, mentions and the planning of marriage, pwp (big time), smut, reader giving jk a handjob, cum eating(?), spit(?), ass slapping (jk can't control himself)

— word count | 3.9K

— song | until the end of time - justin timberlake (this is gonna ruin the tour)

— a/n: flashback in bold, enjoy!!

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

your phone rings waking you quickly. you at up answering your phone. “i’m sorry to wake you, is this y/n l/n?” a man asks through the phone. “yes, is there something wrong?” you ask eyes barely open.

“unfortunately, yes. i’m dr. hill, your fiancée has been in an accident. will you come down and provide some extra information for me?” he asks sincerely.

“what?! is he okay? is he awake?” you sit up. “um, i think it’s best if i share this news in person.” your heart drops.

you stand quickly throwing on some clothes. “i’m coming. i’m on the way.”

you and jungkook had been broken up for six months. you broke off your engagement. he really didn’t want you to go.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

you asked him to go with you to ask your friend to be in your wedding. you planned a lunch and jungkook never showed. you watched the clock tick and the time pass and nothing but radio silence. you tuck the handwritten letters back into your bag.

you got home and jungkook was passed out on the couch. you woke him, “hey go get in bed.” he stands barely awake, and walks into the bedroom flopping down onto your bed.

you walk past him into the bathroom. “where were you?” he mumbles. “lunch with my friends.” you say simply, taking the pins out of your hair.

“until 7 pm on a thursday? what for?” he asks. you sigh continuing to take your hair down from its high ponytail style. you don’t say anything until he groans lifting himself on the bed walking over to the bathroom door and standing in the frame. “what's wrong?” he asks you cluelessly which angers you. “nothing.” you say very monotone.

“you’re mad. why are you mad?” you don’t say anything and continue looking at yourself in the mirror. “i’m not.” you say simply. “ you aren’t even looking at me.” he grabs at your waist and you pull away. “stop.” you say moving away. “can you just tell me what’s wrong? i’m too tired for this shit.” he spits and that’s your final straw. you we so upset with him, that you didn't say anything at first trying to make sure you didn't say anything you didn't mean.

“today was the day we were supposed to ask my friends to be in the wedding and you didn’t even show. i sat there like a dumbass checking the clock hoping you’d show up. you didn’t. you didn’t even call. so yea, it’s very fucking clear that you’re too tired for this shit.” you motion back and forth between the two of you.

“you know damn well that’s not what i meant. i’m sorry babe, things just got so hectic today,” he explains.

“then a text would have eased my mind,” you spoke.

“i was busy, baby. what do you want me to say? you know what i do prepping for a comeback isn't easy.”

“whatever jungkook.” you dismiss him not trying to get more upset.

“did they all say yes?” he asked sitting on the edge of the tub. “i didn’t give them the letters.” you say simply. “why not?” he asks. “because i need more time.” he raises his brow. “for?” he presses.

“to think. see if this is something i even need to do.” you spit.

“what does that mean?” he asks standing up beside you. “jungkook, you haven’t put your input in. you haven’t seen the venue. you don’t care about the colors and you can’t even show up to a fucking lunch. yes, i know how hard it is to prep for a comeback, but planning a wedding by yourself is bullshit. we haven’t had sex in four weeks. you don’t want this relationship as bad as i do.” you explained.

“i want you more than anything.” he says. “then you’d make time! you'd act like it! i don’t ask for weekly dinners, and i don’t complain when you get home at 3 am and leave at 6 am. but, this is different. this is our marriage. i can’t help but think this is what our marriage will be. i’ll just keep waiting on you to find a balance for this shit, the whole world gets everything you got and i just get your last name. i sit at home and watch you create a life without me. that’s why i need to think jungkook.” you finally turn and look at him.

your eyes brimming with tears. “baby, i’ll figure it out i promise. it won’t be like this forever.” you shake your head as your tears fall. “you don’t know that. you know know your job is ever changing. i love you, i do, and i know how much your job means to you. i would never ask you to choose me over your job, but i make time for you even in my schedule. i’m a personal assistant for an idol. I’m gone just as much as you are.” you explain tears choking you up. he pulls you close and you sob in his arms. “what's wrong with me? why can't you make time for me?”

you take a deep breath, “i can’t do this anymore.” you realize he’s crying too. “don’t say that. please don’t say that.” he begs. “i’m sorry jungkook.” you back away from him. you hate how quick he is to let you go. you twist the beautiful ring jungkook gave you months ago, off your finger. you place the ring in his palm. “please,” he looks down at you. “i’m sorry.” you say walking back into your bedroom. you walk into your closet grab clothes and shove them into a duffle. “you don’t have to go tonight. just stay.” he pleads.

“i’m sorry, baby, please. please don't leave.” he cries. you move faster sobbing, you hated hearing him cry. your chest is heavy, as you cry so hard it’s hard to breathe. he walks into the closet and hugs you tight. “please don’t leave me. i don’t want to be alone tonight. please if you want to leave i have to be okay with letting you go, but i want you, i need you to know that I'm not giving up on us. just one more night. stay with me one more night, let me know you're not giving up on me.” you cry. you want to fall apart. “okay.” you say. he hugs you and doesn’t let go. he holds you so tight and so sure. his hands are shaking as he pulls you in. you get this feeling in your gut, you need space and so does he. one night only.

he finally lets go and holds your hand. you strip yourselves of your clothes and lay in bed holding each other, both of you praying this wasn’t the last time you'd hold each other so close.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

you arrive at the hospital. “jeon jungkook.” you speak to the front desk clerk. “relationship?” she asks. “umm, he’s my-my fiance.” she types quickly as you flash your id. “room 613,” she says.

you speed to the elevator taking it up to the sixth four. you look around the floor and run up to the door. you look through the small cut-out of glass. he’s just lying there, an oxygen mask on his face. tears start to pour from your eyes.

“oh my god” you back up starting to panic. “ma’am?” a doctor calls. you turn. “i’m doctor hill. are you his fiancee?” you nod. “yes, please tell me what happened.” you beg. “unfortunately, he was on the expressway southbound, and it seems that he lost control of his motorcycle, he ran into the back of a semi. he’s helmet saved him from any brain damage, but he is having a hard time breathing on his own as he’s punctured his left lung. he hasn’t woken up since we put him under anesthesia, the surgery was a success.” he explains looking at the file in his hands.

“he’s in a coma?” you ask. he nods sincerely. “he is alive and stable, but we aren’t sure when he will come out the the coma, it could be days, maybe months.” you began to sob. “i’m so sorry.” your soul is fading, it was hard to believe. you walk back up to the glass. you stare at him and curse yourself for ever leaving his side. you open the door and walk up to him. you just look at him, and tears fall. he has a black eye and some stitches about his eyebrow.

“i’m so sorry, baby.” you sob quietly. you hold his hand and sob harder when he doesn’t do the double squeeze he’d usually do. you kiss his cheek. “i’m not going anywhere. i’ll be right here i promise.” walk to the other side lay down your purse in the chair and push it to his bedside. you sit laying your head beside him. you gripped his hand and held it tightly.

you didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep until a nurse awakes you. “i’m sorry, here’s his belongings.” she hands you a clear bag with jungkook’s stuff inside. grab the back sitting up and opening it. his jacket was covered in blood, which made your eyes brim. his wallet you noticed something poking out of it. you pulled out a small polaroid of you and him on your first date. you wore disguises and went to six flags. you’d ask another couple to take the photo after you got off the batman ride. you smile reminiscing about how much fun you both had that day.

at the bottom of the bag is a chain with a ring on it, your ring. it was covered in blood as well. you sob, the nurse turns after checking on jungkook. “i’m so sorry ma’am. is there anything i can do for you. are you hungry? coffee?” you shake your head thanking her anyway before she leaves.

you undo the chain sliding your ring off. you hold it up walking over to the sink, washing and drying it, your tears still falling. you slide the ring onto your finger, holding it close to your chest. you walk over to your chair sitting and laying next to him again. “please wake up. please.” you beg.

you wish you never left his side. this was your fault, you thought to yourself. somehow, some way you had a feeling you could've stopped this.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

it had been three weeks since the accident. you were at the hospital every day since. you called your mom to pack a bag for you with everything you needed. your boss a friend of jungkook’s understood, telling you to take how long it took for jungkook to get better.

“good morning aundra.” you speak to the nurse you have grown closer with since being there. “morning darling!” she says cutely. “i’m happy to see you in a better mood today.” she speaks. “yea dr. hill says jungkook can breathe on his own. he’s getting stronger.” you explain. “i know. you’ve got a trooper on your hands for sure.” she smiles.

a few hours later you’re on facetime with the boys telling them how much jungkook has been progressing since they saw him the first time. they sigh a sigh of relief. “he’s so strong guy. we know he’ll be back and kicking as soon as he wakes up. you nod, telling them you were going to try to sleep before the next nurse came to check on him telling them you’d talk to them later.

you lay your head on his lap looking at him. “my pretty boy. you’re so strong. you know i never understood this part of you. you take on so much and come back so strong. you are otherworldly, baby.” you kiss his hand and stand going to nap on the bench across the room. you lay down slowly drifting to sleep.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

you wake to some talking. “how long has she been here?” you hear a low familiar voice. “3 weeks. every day since the accident. this is the longest she’s slept.” you hear a female voice. you turn your eyes fluttering open. you see jungkook sitting up stuffing his mouth with food.

“jungkook!” you scream running over to him hugging him tightly and he groans. “oh im sorry! you’re just you’re awake. my god youre awake. i’m so fucking happy youre okay. jesus please you scared me half to death.” you hug him sobbing. he hold you tight. he swallows his mouthful of food. “hi baby, im sorry im just so hungry.” you giggle looking at him and pecking his lips.

“you were here this whole time?” he asks. you nod. “everyday, 24/7.” you smile. “thank you. i love you.” he looks at you pecking your lips again. he hold both your hands feeling your ring on your finger his eyes shoot down. “you put your ring back on?” you hum. “yeah… i did. i should’ve never taken it off.” he smiles.

“where were you even going?” you ask him, now you must know. he bites his sandwich and swallows before speaking, “your house. i had taken two weeks off of work, i wanted to show you i was serious. i talked to my manager, and he told me, that if i start doubling down every other day it’d speed things up for us, meaning more free time. more time for us.” you smile at him your eyes spilling with tears. he was on his way to you. you were happy he was thinking of you just as much as you were thinking of him. unfortunately, though you can't help but feel like this was your fault. you shake the thought as he grabs your hand, you interlock fingers.

“i love you so fucking much. so so fucking much jungkook.” he kisses your cheek. “i love you more baby.” he says biting his sandwich. “i heard hospital food sucks, and this could just be because i haven’t eaten in three weeks, but this sandwich is fucking amazing.” you giggle.

“oh i have to call the boys.” you speak wiping away your tears. “i talked to them earlier.” jungkook says. “how long have you been up?” you ask raising your brow. “45 minutes or so, i just didn't want to wake you. the nurse said you had barely been sleeping,” he said.

“duh! my fiancé was unconscious in a hospital bed. if someone sleeps peacefully during that, lock them up and throw away the key.” you state. he chuckles lightly.

“i like when you call me that. it feels good to hear that again.”

“what fiancé?” you ask. he nodded cutely.

“so what are the colors?” he asks all of a sudden. “colors of what?” you ask. “for the wedding. what were you thinking?” you smile and sit beside him. you quickly pull up your pinterest board showing him all your ideas. he didn’t show it but knowing you kept them, comforted him.

“white arch? it’ll clash with your dress.” he points out. “oh. oh my god, you're right! we could do green, maybe like ivy leaves?” you suggest. “i think that’ll be immaculate with my grey suit, too. yea, it’ll look amazing.” he adds.

“you already did so good without me baby.” he says. “but it’s clear that i need you. i would’ve been crying for days about that fucking arch.” he chuckles. “i’m still so stuck on flowers.” you pout. “well dr. hill says i have six weeks to recover before i can’t start schedules again. we have time.” he says. you kiss his cheek fluffing his hair.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

for the first time in six months, you walk into your shared apartment. your pictures still hanging on the wall, everything exactly where you left it.

you lay in bed next to him. he wraps his arm around you pulling you in. he kisses the top of your head. “the bed was so cold without you.” he whispers. “i’m never going anywhere ever again.” you peck his lips.

“i need you. i haven’t gotten a good rest in ages, my sleep paralysis started to act up again. just laying in the hospital room with you i slept more than i have in the last six months.” you say. “you just make me breathe better.” you express.

he pouts it hurts him to hear how badly you were struggling. “i was suffocating without you. i love my job but coming home to you made me feel like i won the lottery. i didn’t realize how much i had won until i lost it. i will not fuck it up this time. winning the lottery once is just luck, but twice is a sign.” you giggle rubbing your nose along his.

“i missed you so much, baby.” he says. “trust me i missed you more.” you reply. “impossible.” he whispers before kissing you deeply. you hum into the kiss, the way he kissed you makes your body tingle. you nervously bury your face into his chest. “you are so cute, why so shy? it’s just me.” he smiles. “you just got that effect on me. you make me feel like a teenager, kicking my feet and daydreaming and shit.” you mumble into his chest, he giggles brightly.

“kiss me again,” you say looking up at him. he obeys quickly kissing your lips. jungkook never found the idea of sucking someone’s tongue until he met you. the way you kiss him had a tent quickly growing in his pants.

he hums. “i’m so hard for you right now.” he states pecking your lips. you lightly push him away tutting. “no physical activity for you sir. dr. hill told me it’s imperative that don’t do anything that requires too much physical activity, for your lungs. so no sex right now.” you explain. “what?! come on. i haven’t felt you in months. now i have to wait even longer?” you nod and he groans throwing his head back in frustration. suddenly an idea pops into your head.

“what if…” he hums letting you know he's listening, “ i give you a handjob?” you whisper. “be serious, babe. don’t tease me.” he whines in his last sentence.

you giggle sliding your hands down his sweats. you stroke him slowly. you quickly look up at his licking your fingers before swirling them on his tip. “oh shit. that feels good.” you continue stroking him at a steady pace. “fuck” he mutters. “i wasn’t trying to cum this soon.” he chuckles nervously. “it’s okay baby. give me your cum. i want it so bad” you say teasingly.

he moans biting his lip. you stroke him faster, “just like like that, ohh shit.” you groan. you stroke him just how he likes. he kisses you deeply as you stroke him. “you are so fucking hot.” he whispers. you kiss him again lightly tugging on his bottom lip. “i’m cumming.” he mumbles moaning as he shoots his thick load onto your hand and in his pants. you slide your hand out covered in him. you look at him licking his cum off your knuckles. he looks at you in awe. “mm” you hum lightly flashing him a smile.

“i just want pick you up and fuck you.” you giggle at his bluntness. “jungkook.” you laugh. “what? the way you were just looking at me when you licked your fingers, you know if i was in full health right now i would be fucking you so good.” you smile pecking his slips. “one week.” you said simply. “that’s how long dr. hill said.” you explain. he looks at you, “you think it’s possible to sleep for a week?” you pinch his nose with your fingers. “yea you were sleep for three. no more sleeping for you sir.” he giggles.

“let’s shower.” you say patting his cheek. “oh definitely, you just made me cum in my pants.” he starts to move but you stop him.

“i’m sorry.” you say for the millionth time. “for what?” he questions. “for not believing in you when you said you'd figure it you. i should’ve,” you say simply. you hold back the tears that are making your throat close up.

“look, i know things were difficult, but i knew that night when you stayed, you weren’t giving up on me. on us,” he corrects. “ you stayed by my side for three weeks. you brushed my hair, you talked to me, you gave me a sponge bath. you always believed in me. this accident was not your fault, i need to understand that.” you pout your eyes threatening to spill.

“nuh-uh, no more tears. it’s only up from here, my love.” you hold his close. his thumb wipes away your tears that fall. “now let’s get in the shower.” he pats your butt before moving and standing up quickly. he groans leaning back onto the bed. “woah, take it easy, baby.” he huffs. “i’m not used to be this slow.” he chuckles.

“in all due time. trust me next week you’ll feel much better,” you explain. he nods as you help him stand. “i got you, babe.” he groans standing. you walk into the bathroom and he leans against the sink. you help him take off his shirt as his shoulder is in pain. “you’d look so hot in scrubs.” he says admiring you as you help him.

“oh hush.” you giggle. you help him take of his pants, his semi hard cock spring out. you look up at him. “what?” he whines. “you’re still hard?” you tease. “yes! i just thought about how you look naked.” he spoke. you laugh. you lift your shirt off and undo your bra and your tits bounce out.

“see? and you expect me not to be hard right now?” you giggle turning around and turning the shower on. “okay you first.” he steps in letting the hot water hit his skin. “hurry up.” he rushes you. “have some patience,” you say raising your brown jokingly. you slip off your shorts and step in. your back faces jungkook as you reach for your shampoo, and suddenly a slap hits your ass. you stand quickly. “jungkook.” you warn.

“what? come on. your ass was on full display, it was the urges inside me.” you chuckle. “that wasn’t me, i didn’t want to slap your ass, but the parasites in me wanted to slap your ass.” you laugh loudly. “shut up!” you chide jokingly.

you apply soap onto a washcloth, and start washing his chest. “i wanna get married tomorrow.” he says suddenly. “what?!” you almost yell. you look at him in disbelief. “i don’t even have a dress.” you explain. “then let’s go thrift one. i realized that life is too short, and in this lifetime i need you to be my wife.” you smile, but you don’t say anything. “what if… we get married tomorrow, and we still have a wedding. we can still do it big, when we actually get married it’s just us. me and you like i will be forever.” you suggest. you smile at him. “okay.” you say. “okay like you're just doing it for me or you love the idea?” you chuckle as you realize his small panic. “i love the idea. just me and you.” you say.

“forever,” he adds.

“and ever, until the end of time.” you grin, finally everything feels good. you stand in front of your soon-to-be husband, excited for what the future holds.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

[lunaviee]

“ THAT SHOULD BE ME ” — JUSTIN BIEBER <//3

࿓⋆ tags - silly fluff !!

࿓⋆ contains - various from jjk, hq, and bllk

he hates that thing. that dirty, grimy, ball of fluff that sleeps and cuddles with you every night. that should be him in your arms, tucked into your neck and help tightly as you sleep. his eyes scan over your instagram story in envy.

“me and churro against the world!!”

it’s honestly an adorable picture, he thinks. your cheek is slightly smooshed into the plush and the necklace he bought you for your anniversary is sitting on your collarbone. there’s a cheeky little smile on your face, partially hidden by some of the fluff of the plushie.

but that’s besides the point! your captions should only consist of you and him against the world, not some sack of fuzz you bought just a few weeks ago.

he doesn’t realized he’s been zoned out for so long, thinking about the 37th way he can toss that thing in the trash. not until a notification pops up on his screen,

can you come over? i miss you 😞💔💔

in DIRE need of a hug rn🙏💗

what perfect timing!!

you better bet his ass is in your driveway in a matter of minutes.

gojo, yuji, toge, atsumu, oikawa, bokuto, hinata, tsukki, kuroo, suna, rin, nagi, shidou + your favs! (could fit with anyone really)

✮ — heyyy guysss……sorry for um being in the trenches for so long and basically lying😭🙏 ill maybe write some more if i see any requests i like but idk🙁🙁🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

[uzurimisery]

bitter frost, honey i'm coming home. / logan howlett x reader / nsfw

warnings: MDNI, angst, p in v, mention of vomit, makeup sex, death (not character), thoughts of suicidal ideation, sappy emotional sex, old man cums quick, Logan yells at reader, smoking, knotting (not a/b/o)

wc: 9k

A/N: I do not know brevity. This was only meant to be 4k max

It’s cold on the ranch now. The first frost came barrelling through, ice crystals hanging on the barbed wire fences and freezing over the troughs out in the pasture. Days on the ranch start early, often before dawn, the first rays of light peeking over the crest of the mountains, painting it pink and golden. He’d step out into the crisp morning air and go to the barn, where he’d feed the animals. The chickens were too loud if he didn’t feed them first, the two roosters crowing till he did, so they went first. After the chickens, it was time for the two horses and the cows. After three years of doing it, he moved with practiced precision. Scattering hay, pouring oats, and spreading seeds are all mindless tasks. 

Logan had to venture out on Weston, a reliable but honorary son of a bitch, with an icebreaker to free up the water for the herd. Then, he had to head into the barns and ensure they weren’t frozen. He should pull out the heated troughs, kept convincing himself he’d do it next weekend 27 weekends ago, and now it was necessary. His back ached a bit at the thought. Pulling out all the equipment and placing it was a full day's job with just himself doing it. He was getting a fucking headache just thinking about it.

It’s not that he wasn’t strong enough. He was just old. He was far too old to run a ranch independently with so little help. Each winter felt a bit long as if there was too much work. Maybe he had grown lazier, too, over the years. No more fighting and not working at Xavier’s school; he was just living on the land now. Cattle ranching. Felt like an All-American cowboy when he had on wranglers, flannel, Justin boots, and some hat he had picked up at the tractor supply store a year back. The hat had seen better days, and the ridge was beaten up and dented from all the times he’d fold it in half and tuck it into his back pocket. He didn’t bother with a jacket, be far too warm that way. 

The ranch was quiet, save for the sound of cattle and horses. Now, the yellow pasture stretches out from the start of his property line on the road to near the base of the mountains. His little private valley. At first, the quiet made him anxious, like he was waiting for another catastrophe to come and tear it apart. That he’d wake up with someone trying to kill him, and all too often, he’d close his eyes and envision all the torture he’d been through—too much pain and suffering in his life. 

The quiet also gave him too much time to think about everything he’d done. Everything he’d lost. He was a man who had known mainly suffering for all his life. Sometimes, he felt he didn’t deserve this peace, this serenity. It was dissonant. He was a fighter, a soldier, a weapon made human to kill and kill and kill again until the only color he knew was red, the only scent he smelt iron, till the collar around his neck pulled so tight it’d break it.

His hands ached, claws threatening to come out as he worked himself up, the sting of vomit on his tongue. The back of his knuckles split open like they weren’t even there, like there was no skin or muscle for the adamantine to cut through. Like it didn’t hurt every time it did.

Weston whinnied under him, tired of lazily trotting around the barn to check for coyote marks. He wanted to gallop around the outskirts of the land while Logan sniffed out any danger to the herd. Didn’t need a cattle dog when he was a glorified one.

“Yeah yeah, asshole.” His spurs dig into Weston’s sides, urging the horse into a gallop. He might as well get the morning round done now. 

The horse broke into a gallop, bouncing Logan in the saddle, wind whipping him in the face. For a moment, the noise in his head quieted. There was no constant thought of you, just what he had to do after rounds. 

As they reached the fence line, Logan scanned the horizon, senses on high alert. He knew he was never looking for just coyotes or stray animals; he was always searching for something more. A threat that might never come. Some bullshit hopped-up mutant on a vendetta or some power-hungry human looking to use him.

Now, at a canter, the two patrolled the whole property line as he took deep breaths, inhaling the cold air, trying to focus on the present. On the life he had here. Not what he had left behind. But the past is never far behind, and he had so much past to run from. It would always be near him, lurking in the shadows. The ranch could never drown it out, cover it up, and make him forget. Maybe it was just another reminder he could never truly escape who he was, no matter how hard he tried. 

“Easy now,” he murmured, pulling Weston to a stop near the far edge of the property. He could see everything from here. It was beautiful and peaceful, but all he could feel was the weight of what he was missing. 

Sometimes, he swore he smelt your perfume on the breeze.

“Let’s head back.” Weston turned around, ready to run the way back toward the barn. This routine was the only thing that kept him sane. The work. The responsibilities. Barely enough to keep him busy but not enough to keep him from sinking too far into the darkness in his thoughts. 

He’d gotten lazy the past week and fallen behind on the hay maintenance, so he’d need to buck it today. Move it all from being covered under some tarps to the hay barn. Move them all one by one. He was glad that 150 pounds felt like nothing to him in times like that. 

The chicken coop also needed a roof repair. The last storm did a number on it. Logan bought the supplies the last time he was in town. It just meant stripping the old one off, resecuring the waterproof liner, and hammering the steel roof. Maybe he’d add some more insulation next weekend in preparation for the winter. 

Today was going to be a long one.

───※ ·❆· ※───

A knock on the door echoed in the ranch house, slicing through the quiet thrum of the fridge kicking on and the TV volume on low. He wasn’t expecting company as he stopped mid-swig of his beer, brow furrowed. The neighbors knew by now to leave him the hell alone and had enough run-ins to steer clear of him unless it was an emergency. There were no ranch hands due to arrive until next Monday. 

His boots thudded with heavy steps as he rose from the couch and walked over. The tips of his claws cut through his skin, the metallic ring soft as he reached the door.

He grabbed the handle, ready for it to be blown off the hinges by someone knocking it down.

“Logan, it’s me.” That's a voice he’d recognize anywhere, unmistakable and achingly familiar. The one he longed to hear to the point it drove him crazy. The one he dreamed of every night, of all the terrible things it had said to him because of what he’d done. Heard it in his sleep and his waking hour like a fucking ghost haunting him.

“Can you open the door already? I know you’re in there.”

He blinked as he did, trying to grapple with his emotions brought to light by the reality of you standing there. 

“What?”  his voice cracked. “What are you doing here?” 

You looked so sad, a deep sorrow in your eyes—the kind that had been there when the two of you had argued the night before he left. It made him feel like he missed something crucial like you had lost a part of yourself—one that settled deep in your bones and moved in your muscles and ligaments.

“Charles told me where you were.”

His throat felt painfully tight, as if the words were squeezing his neck. He didn’t expect this- hadn’t expected you to ever ask Xavier where he was and come see him.

Neither of you moved, the door half-open as he stood blocking it.

“You ain’t supposed to be here.”  His tone was gruff. He had been smoking more since coming to the ranch, trying to dull his brain.

Your voice was steady but filled with so much sadness it made him want to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. Plead with you to transgress his sins. Go to confession and tell all his wrongdoings. “I needed to see you again.”

He looked out into the driveway, seeing nothing but emptiness.

“Did you fly over here? You don’t even have your suit on.”

“It’s fine,” you said with a shrug, “it’s dark out anyways.” 

He stared at you. The porch lights set a soft, warm glow on your skin, the panes of your face made clear. You looked beautiful, mesmerizingly so, as you stared up at him.

“You gonna let me in or not?” 

“Don’t get comfortable,” he grumbled, his tone softer now that you were closer. He opened the door wider, letting you walk past him.

He had the fire going, for which you were grateful. Flying without your suit always left you frigid afterward, especially since Logan had taken to living in the middle of nowhere nestled in the Rocky Mountains. You had always been jealous Storm didn’t have to deal with that. 

The ranch house Logan was living in was quaint. It was a three-bedroom, two-story house built in the 1880s that the previous owners renovated in recent years to feature modern amenities. The floors creaked as you walked, clearly still the original hardwood. He hadn’t done much decorating. It was clear that Charles had been the one to decorate the place for him.

He wasn’t ready to see you. Ready to talk about why he left you in the middle of the night four years ago. 

You quickly found your way into the living and dining room. Logan had left pocket doors open in these two separate rooms. Sitting on the couch, you could see through to the kitchen. A large pot was on the gas stove, the flames flickering on low. It smelled like beef stew.

Logan lingered by the entrance to the living room off of the entry space, unsure of what to do next. Watching you settle into the beat-up couch made him feel a mess of relief and anxiety. He was glad to see you were okay. Your hair was shorter, and you must have cut it after he left at some point. Grey hairs were coming through at your temples. 

“It’s, uh, good to see you.” Having his eyes on you like this made you feel small again. Like he was leaving you all over again.

Logan nodded, swallowing hard. “You too.” 

You smiled at him, and it hurt. Cut him like a thousand glass pieces over and over again. He was getting sandblasted and healing through it. 

He walked into the kitchen, trying to distance himself from you and his feelings, and stirred the stew. “I wasn’t expecting company,” he commented his back to you.

Your hands wrung together automatically, anxiety creeping up your throat. Maybe it was a mistake to come here and see him again when he had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do to you the night he left. “It’s fine, I don’t need to eat.” 

The wooden spoon clatters against the rest, and he puts it down harshly, making you wince. “Nonsense. I can hear your fucking teeth chattering from here.”

“I’m fine, really. It's just wind chill.” 

“Just take the damn food!” Logan bellowed, his hand slamming down against the counter, breathing heavily. “Just take the damn food.” 

You were silent for a moment, reeling. He’d never been like this with you before. “Okay.”

Logan closed his eyes, took a deep breath through his nose, and pushed it out of his mouth, trying to steady himself. He didn’t mean to lash out at you, to snap, but just seeing you again put him in confrontation with his past and his own feelings. It was more than he could handle. He grabbed a second bowl from the cabinet, ladling the stew between the both of them. Even after all this time, he took care to give you more potatoes than beef and half his carrots.

“Come sit at the table. Don’t want soup on the damn couch.” 

You moved quietly, always did. It unnerved him when he first met you. Your mutation lets you float more than walk and never hear any footfall when you move. He sat across from you, and you could finally get a good look at him. The years had never been kind to him, but he seemed older now than ever. The past three had been the worst of his life. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and the wrinkles on his face seemed more pronounced. 

The silence between you was thick with unspoken words, cut only by the scrapping of metal spoons against ceramic bowls. The sound echoed in the quiet house with the TV now shut off.

As you finished up your food, he looked antsy. His left leg bounced up and down, hand strumming on the table.

“Thank you for the stew.” you pipped up, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah, well, you look like you needed it. " Despite all these years, he still cared for you and loved you. It was evident to you. 

You both sat there momentarily, the silence returning but now filled with different tension. The possibility of reconciliation hurts more than anger.

“Why did you come here?” he puzzled. “After all this time, why now?”

You tapped against the bowl, inconsistent drumming on the sharp ceramic cutting against his ears. “I needed to see you.”

“Bullshit, what do you want”

“Jesus, Logan,’ you finally snapped, lightning crackling as you did. He acted like the wounded party when he was the one who had left you. “Am I not allowed to want to see you?” 

You didn’t mean for it to happen. Far past the age that your powers slipping up due to your emotions should be embarrassing. Static electricity builds up around you.

“You left,” you continued, to reel in your emotions, to keep them in check. “You left me without a word, without an explanation, and now you’re demanding an answer as to why I'm here? Do you have any idea what you did to me?” 

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling as he looked to the side. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t have this conversation with you. Not now. The night he left, you felt like he was ripping out his own heart, running from his feelings and the truth about the world around him.

It was like he was on autopilot as he stood from the table, knocking his chair off balance as he went. Like a bull in a china shop, that’s how he moved. He could hear you talking and feel the vibrations in the air, but none of the words meant anything. You were begging him to just sit down and talk to you, a pleading whine in your tone. 

But he couldn’t.

Just like the last time he saw you, he walked out the door with nothing but the clothes on his back into the night down the porch steps. 

The screen door slammed shut as you walked out after him, your body trembling with the intensity of your emotions, your hair standing on end from the static. He never told you what was wrong or why he did what he did. He just left. Tears blur your vision as your back hits the siding of the house, sinking down.

“Logan!” you yelled, calling out after him, voice breaking. “Please just talk to me!”

He didn’t turn around. His figure grew smaller, illuminated by the porch lights flickering from your lack of control. It felt like your heart was breaking again. The ache of his absence, familiar and painful, made all the more unbearable by seeing him again. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

“I’m staying here till you talk to me.” 

When he finally came back to the house, knowing all too damn well, he had to take care of the ranch, that was the first thing you told him. He didn’t like it but found it hard to argue with you and Charles. It was impossible to change Charles’ mind; he knew you were too stubborn to leave. So he let it happen. 

Letting you sleep in the guest bedroom across from his was easier. It felt like he slept better since you had shown up. Even if you woke him up in the middle of the night, the floorboards creaking in protest under your weight as you went pee around 4:15 a.m. every night.

He’d lie in his bed, now fully aware of the space in it next to him, listening to the sounds of the house. The gentle rise and fall of your breathing, the ticking of the clock downstairs, the wind outside. He would never admit it, but you being there gave him a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in years. The night terrors that plagued him endlessly seemed to ease. For the first time in a long time, he could close his eyes without fear of being swallowed up and spit out by the past. 

During the day, you had a tentative routine with him, and he woke up earlier than you did. It had only been a week since you had shown up. You had left at one point to fly back to the school and get some of your belongings. Every morning, you’d go out to the chicken coop, collect the eggs, and make breakfast. It was nothing fancy, some variation of a bread product, eggs, and a protein. Sometimes, it was pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Other times, it was steak and eggs. Today, it was omelets. 

You’d help out in other ways, too. Go out and move the steer to a different part of their sectioned-off pasture. You were faster at de-ice the troughs, flying, and whatnot, so he let you take over that job. It was hard work, and your muscles ached like they hadn’t for a long time. 

Logan had to admit it’s helpful having you on the ranch. He’s got a greenhouse and some therapy project Charles talked him into, but that’s been looking worse for wear. The weather pattern changed the past couple of weeks, and there’s been an inversion that has left the valley with no direct sunlight. All the plants inside had started to wilt and were on the path to dying, not that he cared. He’d survive without some tomatoes. Then you threw open the door, solar energy pouring out from your palms, and they’d perk right up. You had that effect on plants, hell, people too. 

Something about you, even if you didn’t have your mutation, would have made you shine as bright as the fucking sun to anyone. All wild curls and big smiles, a helping hand to those in need—just one of those people who made the world a better place by breathing. You always said you were just doing your part, but god, there was so much good, so much sweetness in you. If he took a bite, he’d even get a cavity. Seeing you wrapped up in an old wool sweater of his, bent over coaxing a plant back to life, made him feel so ashamed of himself. 

“The plants in the greenhouse look a lot better this week.” 

Some of the leaves crunched underfoot, but most of them were soggy in the mud as you walked over to the steer barn where he was working. One of the steers had a rock impacting his back hoof, and he had to get it out. Logan had just finished spraying it with salicylic acid and wrapping it as you walked in. 

“Like I said, you don’t need to be doing all that.” He grumbled, standing from the stool and leading the cow back to the enclosure. 

Where he spoke dissent and anger, you heard what he really felt. Fear. He was still that little boy in his father's manor.

“It’s not a problem.”

It hurts to be this close to him and not have him, to know that things could just be better if he were honest. 

You'd cook him dinner in the evening, sit at the old wooden table, and comment about the school. About what you’d been up to. You steered away from the elephant in the room. It was best to talk about the mundane things. Sometimes, you’d slip and tell him something more personal than you meant to. He didn’t add much to the conversation because he hadn’t been doing much since leaving you, but he’d chime in about the animals. About the fox that kept creeping around the chicken coop.

Logan still had moments of withdrawal, times when he’d just disappear from the ranch, and you wouldn’t see him till the morning. It was hard on you, a reminder of just how much had changed between the two of you. You used to come home to him after a day of teaching and collapse into his arms on the couch. He’d offer you a sip of his beer, something dark and hoppy, and you’d taste it and declare it’s gross. Logan had told you one day, he’d find a beer you liked, and he’d stock the fridge with it. The closest you’d gotten was some Mangocart IPA that he told you was meant for 17-year-olds, and you told him to go fuck himself. 

Healing wasn’t a straight path forward. And healing couldn’t start until you cut out the festering parts. You can never go backward, but you must go forward while looking at the past. 

The two of you sat on the porch tonight, twilight hues, deep indigo taking over the sky, and the stars coming out. The first night you were out here with him, you couldn’t stop staring at them. Had a whole thing about them since they charged up your mutation, but he just thought you looked gorgeous. Older but still gorgeous. 

That was another thing that scared him. You are aging. He didn’t know how long he had left to live, hell, if he could even die. Some wounds should have killed him many times over, but they never did. They never do. But he's seen you bleeding out and broken after a fight with Magneto, a laceration so severe you had to self-cauterize the wound on the spot and passed out multiple times while doing so. You were getting older, and he was staying the same. 

You were 24 when the two of you first met. Your parents were good folks, never held any bias towards mutants, and helped you learn to control your powers and keep yourself hidden from the government when they were still rounding up mutants. The only reason you got found out was because of Cerebro and Charles. With so little training, it should have scared him how strong you were back then. A few years with Charles, and you were deadly. Deadly, but a pacifist. 

The air was cold. You could see your breath as you rocked in the rocking chair he had out there. Wafts of pungent tobacco hit your nose as he lit up a cigar. He had stopped when you lived together. You looked over at him, feeling the weight of his eyes on you. As soon as your own met his, he looked back out into the night sky. The silence was heavy.

“Do you ever miss it?” you asked softly. 

“Miss what?” he drew another drag from his cigar.

“The school. The kids. The…purpose.”

“I think about the students daily. It was good work. Important work. But…” Logan trailed off, searching for the right words. What were the right words to say without telling you everything? “It got complicated.”

You nodded, understanding the unspoken part of his statement, drawing your knees to your chest. “It’s still important. And the kids still need you.” 

After all this time, you still wanted him. Despite every wrong he had done to you and all the harm he caused you. The most pathetic part of him was ready to take your kindness, love, and care and bathe in it. Draw you back into the bottomless pit of his life and ruin you like he had all the others. 

You saw him clench his jaw. A twisting wave of guilt and self-loathing ate him up. A man made to destroy and he was afraid to destroy you too.

“The kids will be fine without me.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“Well, they’ve been fine without me so far.” He shot back, but there was a hollow note in his voice. There wasn’t any gumption behind it. 

“They’ve managed, but that doesn’t mean they’re fine. You gave them something no one else could, Logan.  They relied on you, they needed you-they need you.” You corrected gently, reaching out to touch his thigh. He was always so warm.

He took another drag, blowing the smoke away from you. “They’ll move on. They’re better off without me.” 

“They didn’t move on, and they aren't okay without you.” 

Logan looked down at your hand on his thigh, his expression a mixture of pain and something else. Something so soft, buried deep beneath the layers of hardened exterior. He didn’t pull away, but you could see his temptation rising.

“I’m not me without you, Logan. Please just talk to me.” Your grip tightened, the denim rough under your fingers, and you begged him to let you in again. To tell you why he left you, why you haven't heard from him since.

He needed to keep you safe from himself.

“You should leave.” Standing from his chair, he threw open the screen door, letting it slam shut behind him as he walked over to the living room. 

You rose after him, chasing him into the house, your heart pounding in your chest. The floorboards cracked up the both of you, echoing in the house. He moved with a desperate, frantic everything. His broad shoulders tense as if he could outrun the conversation you were about to have.

“Why won’t you let me care about you!” You cried out, voice breaking, trembling with the weight of the emotions you've been holding back. He didn’t stop, didn’t turn around, but kept going, and your words spilled out like a damn bursting.  “I am begging you to let me in, to let me love you, to stop pushing me away like you do every time! You left me. In the middle of the night, you left. I woke up, and you were gone. And all I have ever asked of you is to let me love you.”

From behind, he looked like a man barely holding together as he reached the living room.

“I don’t want you to.” he ground out. Each word hurt to say, and he hated lying to you. 

“We both know that's a lie, Logan. I’m not stupid. I know you love me. Just please let me in. Why won't you let me in?” 

“Because I don’t want you to wind up fucking dead!” His voice reverberated off the walls. “Everyone and everything I have ever loved is buried six feet fucking deep, and I don’t want you to join the shithole graveyard that is my life.” 

Logan’s voice cut deep through the room, his shoulder hunched as he leaned over the back of the couch. The sob was settling in his chest as he tried to keep it at bay. He didn’t want you to see him crying. It was like he could see you now, lying in that grave, another name added to the long list of people he’d killed or gotten killed.

“You think leaving me is protecting me? You think that by pushing me away, you're saving me?” You hated being an angry crier, the tears welling in your eyes. “I’m already in this. I’ve been in this for years. You leaving didn’t save me—it fucking broke me.”

“I just,” his breath was shaky, knuckles white against the couch as the wood splintered from his grip. “I can’t lose you too.” 

You stepped closer, a hesitant hand hanging in the air a moment before it made contact. Slipping over his back, meeting your other hand in the front as you hugged him from behind. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, voice soft and thick with sadness. “I’m right here, and I’m not leaving. I’m not letting you leave this time.” 

He shook his head, tilting it backward to keep the tears from falling. “You don’t understand. I keep telling you that I’m cursed, that everyone who gets close to me, everyone that I love,” the crack in his voice hurt you, “ends up dead. And I can’t let that happen to you.” 

“You’re not cursed,” you mumbled into his back. “You’ve been through hell, but you deserve a chance at happiness and love.” 

His shoulders shook as the sob he had been holding back finally broke free. He crumples against the back of the couch, wrenching at his waist as his head meets his hands. You went down with him, following the curve of his back with your front, holding him tightly as he cried. 

“I’m here,” you cooed into his ear, your tears cresting down your cheeks. “I’m here, baby.” 

“I don’t deserve you.” he choked out between sobs. 

You tightened your hold on him, wishing that the pressure could soothe his aches and worries and make him feel whole again. That it would wash away all the suffering he’s been through and wipe it from his mind, even if you knew that pain was part of what made him him. 

“Yes, you do. You deserve love and happiness and to find that with me.” 

“I’m just going to hurt you again, like I have before.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me-”

“God dammit, I’ve killed people,” he stood up straight to face you, his voice jumping in volume, shaking you off balance. As you stumbled, he reached out, a hand on your hip to steady you. “I’ve killed so many people that it’d take them years to find all the bodies that I’ve fucking piled up in my 230 years of life. I am a fucking mess of a man who is so goddamn broken, and I don’t want to drag you down in the mess that I have made.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes darting around your face as he did. His beard was grown out, the greys now outnumbered the black, jaw trembling as he spoke. 

“And just when I think I can start to be okay without you in my life, you show up, doll, and it ruins all that progress I made, if I even fucking made any in the first place. Make me realize just how damn much I need you. And how much I am so fucking scared of losing you because I can’t take it if I do.”

You reached up, hand cupping his face against the scruff of his beard. “I know that I’ve always known the life you lived before meeting Charles, and it doesn’t scare me. What scares me is the thought of you shutting me out and living out here on your own till you die. You’re not this terrible monster you think you are. Yes, you’ve done terrible things, but you’ve also done so much good in the world. You’ve saved just as many lives as you’ve taken.”

His eyes softened, tongue darting out to wet dry lips that stuck to his teeth. 

“I can’t change who I am. I can’t be someone you deserve.” 

“I’m not asking you to change.” 

His other hand met your hip, both of them squeezing them tightly as his body shook. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t,” you promised. It was easy to promise that to him. As much as he needed you, you needed him. “You and me, we’ll get through this, and all that's to come.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. 

For a long while, he just stared at you, listening to your heartbeat, his eyes searching yours, looking for any doubt or lie in what you said. Fearful you’d sweep the rug out from under him and leave. He couldn’t find any indication of the sort. All he could see was how much you loved him, how much the distance between you had hurt, and how badly you wanted him to let you in.

Logan let out a shaky breath before pulling you into a kiss. His facial hair tickled your face as your lips met. It was intense as his lips moved against yours, his hands sliding down to your ass to pick you up and hold you. You could feel all his longing, desperation, and the despair he had been holding back. His lips were chapped from working outside, not caring for for himself like he should be, but you didn’t mind.

It sent a shiver down your spine, having him so close after so long. He was so warm against you. Your hands slid up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. Logan groaned as you did, parting his mouth enough that your tongue could meet his. 

The kiss deepened. You could taste the salt of his tears mingling with your own. His grip on your ass tightened, pulling you flush against his body like he was afraid you might disappear. His mouth moved hungrily against your own tongue, nearly forcing yours into submission as he held you close.  He felt like a man starved. 

You matched his intensity, trying to pour all your love and care into the kiss, your lips moving together in a way that felt both familiar and new. Hoping that enough of your love could spill into his cup and fill him so full it didn’t matter what spilled out his cracks. There’d be more poured in every second. A rediscovery of what the love between the two of you had been. 

The two of you have to part far sooner than he liked, your lung capacity smaller than his own. His eyes were still wet with tears as he watched you, your chest rising and falling as you gulped down the air. 

He leaned in towards you, placing a small kiss on your forehead as he rested his head against your own, moving your ass to rest against the back of the couch. You had changed your conditioner; it smelled like honey now, but no matter how fragrant it was, it couldn’t cut through the smell of you to him. You smelled like home. 

“I’m sorry, doll.” his voice was a murmur against your scalp, heavy with regret. If hammer home the point, he’d bend nail after nail into soft wood, splitting it down the middle with how much metal he’d drive into it, just how sorry he was.

“I forgive you.”

Somehow, he gripped you tighter.“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“I know you will.” you pulled away from your position tucked against his chest to look up at him. “Kiss me again?”

He compiled without hesitation, his lips finding yours so tenderly. It was slow, deliberate, a melting of his body with yours. A promise, shared understanding, a soul tie that bound the two of you together.

Pulling away, his eyes met yours, and all he could see was love. 

“You gonna take me to bed or what, big boy?” 

Logan moved quickly up the stairs, taking two of them at a time. The promise of having you again was all the incentive he needed. He missed you. The way you felt under him, the way your pussy felt against his dick. How you fluttered around him every time he angled just right, how you smelt. He'd been jacking off to the thought of you for years now, and finally getting to have you again was like a fevered dream.

It wasn’t graceful the way he swung open his door and tossed you on the bed. You bounced a few times, mattress springs creaking as you did, before propping yourself up with an eyebrow raised, questioning him. No doubt he’d never hear the end of it; could hear you nagging him now. “A spring mattress? Logan? You’re made of metal. You can't have a spring mattress. You know this.” 

You raised a finger, curling in towards yourself, beckoning him closer. He was a dog on a leash for you, moving like a well-trained animal. If they’d found you during Project K, he would have listened to every command they gave. Hell, he’d roll over right now if you told him to. 

His knees enclosed your legs as he crawled over you, dog tags slipping out from his white tank top and dangling in your face. You smelled like him. His body wash and house, mixed with your fruit conditioner. Underneath it all, he could just smell you. The salt on your skin, the heady scent of your arousal. Logan lowered himself, tucking his head into your neck, and took a deep breath, groaning at the smell of you.

“Need you logan.”

That was something he’d missed. That pitched whine in the back of your throat you got when you were all horny and needy for him. Your voice turned raspy and low, caressed his ears so smoothly, and it made him want to purr like a fucking cat. The cadence just scratched an itch in his skull, setting his nerves on fire. 

With a low growl, he cradled your face in his hands, thumbs tracing over your cheekbones, relishing the heat coming off your skin. The little bumps and scars that crossed your skin felt like home to him, a map he’d always know how to read no matter how many years passed. He leaned in, lips meeting yours, and it just felt right. It always felt right. He was stupid for trying to run from you all this time. 

Your fingers laced in his hair on the nape of his neck, fingernails scraping his scalp. He groaned low,  wanton, animalistic, your tongue meeting his own in a warm, wet dance. Logan devoured your lips, his hunger for you impossible to sate. It was messy, desperate, the way he clung to you. Grabbing your waist and lifting you closer to him, you felt like a feather to him, all soft flesh and curves against his hard angles. 

He pulled away from the kiss, moving along your jawline and neck, stubble brushing your skin, making it more sensitive than it already was. Not stopping at your neck, he continued down over your collarbones and the expanse of your chest, all the skin he could access in the v-neck you wore. His fingers tugged at the hem of your sweater, pulling it over your head. You weren’t wearing a bra, perfect fucking nipples already perking up for him.

Logan leaned forward, his lips closing around your nipple. You gasped, back arching off the bed, the cool metal of his dog tags stinging against your skin. His tongue swirled around your nipple, fingers digging in at your waist before he pulled away with a pop, your chest heaving. You always looked so beautiful coming under him, over him, beside him, any position in which your naked body was near his and your flesh met in sinful desire.

“Oh,” his voice was ragged like he had fought all his battles and wars at once. “Oh god, doll…”

Testament and faith could be read about in books and studied. The Bible could teach you of Jesus’ preaching, but true faith, true trust in the unknown, could never be read about. It had to be felt and experienced. Logan slid to his knees, pulling your hips to the edge of the bed as he went. The fabric of your leggings felt too thick, separating him from his worship. He could smell you through them, through the lace of your panties. Heady, musky, a whine rumbles through his chest as his face falls against your thigh, nose pressed against the fast of your pussy. He breathes in deep, savoring your scent, his mouth watering like he can taste you.

“Doll, please,” he begged, opening his bloodshot eyes, his voice needy. “Let me taste you?” 

“You don't have to ask, Logan,” you replied, smiling. “I’m yours, always yours.” 

Logan hooked his finger into the waistband of your legging and panties, tugging them down in one swift motion. The cold air of the room met your skin as he did, but you didn't have long to think about it as he parted your legs, and his hot breath made contact with your pussy. His mouth hovered above for a moment, just wafting in your scent, his eyes fluttering closed. 

“Fucking love the smell of this pussy.” he murmured to himself, a low growl, before he dove in, tongue parting your folds.

Wet muscle slid between you so easily before swirling around your sensitive clit, teasing it. His hot breath ghosted over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your fingers flew to his head, trying to find purchase in his hair as he went. Logan was ferocious. He went from your clit to your hole, delving inside you, trying to taste every inch of you. He grabbed your hips, tilting them upwards, making you squeal as he opened his mouth wider on you. Working himself into a frenzy, growling, the vibrations amplified by his adamantium skeleton. It rumbled through you, low and deep, like the base setting of a vibrator.

He takes a second, not quite remembering the perfect rhythm for you right away, but he gets to it quickly. Starts playing with your pussy like a fine-tuned machine the way he has you gushing in minutes. Your wetness coats his tongue, and that engine is firing.

Each stroke, each flick of his tongue on your clit brought you closer to ecstasy. The stars might power you, but he’d have you see them tonight. He devours your pussy like a man starved, primal hunger driving him. You couldn’t fight back, not that you wanted to. All that you could do was let him keep going. Let him take you to the edge. Push you past it. Over it. Your breath hitches, heart pounding in your chest so hard you feel it in your temples.

You push his head back, abdomen muscles flexing, a thick line of spit and arousal connecting Logan’s mouth to your pussy. His pupils were blown wide, eyes unfocused, hungry. A red, ruddy color spread across his cheeks. He felt hard enough to cut steel with his length, rutting against the bed. They move on their own accord, desperate for friction. There’s a growing wet spot of precum at the front of his darkening blue jeans.

“Cum for me, doll, please, I need to taste it.” That low vibration of his voice made you whine, hips bucking against him.

Logan spread his tongue flat and mercilessly kept going at your clit. Your moans grew louder, fingernails digging into his scalp as he manhandled you around like you weighed nothing. He gripped your hips tighter, tilting them further, ensuring he had better access to your pussy, before taking your clit in his mouth and sucking on it. An involuntary squeal came out of you as the added pressure made your back arch. 

The suction made your stomach drop, and your toes curl. He kept swiping his tongue side to side, little pulses of suction in time. It left you writhing and gasping. One of his hands released your hips, moving so that he could slip two fingers into your wet hole. You were so soaked he met no resistance, walls clenching around his digits as he slid them in, desperate for something to clamp down on. The pads of his fingers brush against your G-spot, and the lights of the room glow brighter as you begin to lose control. You’re so close so quickly it feels like you can’t breathe from how overstimulating it was. 

You push his head back, abdomen muscles flexing, a thick line of spit and arousal connecting Logan’s mouth to your pussy. His pupils were blown wide, eyes unfocused, hungry. A red, ruddy color spread across his cheeks. He felt hard enough to cut steel with his length, rutting against the bed. Your vision blurred, light filling your eyes, your only point of focus in the world, his mouth on your sensitive pussy.

“Taste so goddamn good,” he licked his lips, breaking the strand before diving back in. Your legs shook, thighs clamping down around his ears. You were so close, you could taste it. Logan picked up the pace, his tongue rapidly flicking over your clit, pumping his fingers in and out of your fluttering hole. 

The room was filled with sloppy, wet sounds of Logans eating you out mixed with your cries of pleasure. He presses your pussy harder against his face, moaning as he does. You clench around him, body drawing tight like a bow as your release nears, his fangs scrape on the fat of your pussy lips.  It's like you leave your body for a minute, your ears ringing and your heart pumping. Every nerve in your body is lit up.

Logan reaches up to grope at your breasts, and with a pinch of your nipple, you cum with a loud moan that startles the cows, the lightbulbs exploding as you do. Your body trembles and shakes, juices gushing onto his palette like a tall glass of iced tea after a long day of work during the summer, and his thirst is quenched, but his appetite is only hungrier. You felt like you were melting, pleasure pouring out of you.

“Fuck,” you sound winded, “I haven’t had that happen since I was 24.” Your smile shows crow's feet, crinkling comforts near the sides of your eyes as you smile, really smile at him for the first time this week.

“Getting old, kid.”

“Oh, shut up!” 

He ducks to the side to dodge the pillow you throw his way. 

“You want to keep going?” 

“With you, I don’t ever want to stop.”

His eyes go all soft at the corners, caught up in his feelings. “Promise you won’t ever have to again.” 

“Good.”

He picks you up and places you up on the center of the bed, grabbing the pillow you threw at him to place under your hips for support. His clothes come off, and his blue Wrangler jeans drop to the floor with his tank top and boxer briefs. The dog tags stay on. He knows you’ve got a thing for them.  They glint in the dim light, steel catching your eye.

Rough, calloused hands slide up your legs, starting at your ankles, and he kneels between your legs on the bed. He folds you nearly in half, hooking your knees over his shoulders, his hip meeting yours. You feel the curling wisps of his pubes tickle against the back of your thighs. Always been a hairy guy, told you it's how he was so warm all the time. It makes your stomach flutter.

Logan leans down, capturing your lips against his own in a kiss before lining up his pre-cum soaked tip with your entrance. He eases into you with a hiss, your walls squeezing him tightly. The length was never an issue, he was only about an inch and a half above average, but it was the girth that made your jaw go slack and droll pool out the sides as he fucked you. The stretch is delicious as he slides inside you.

The first inch yielded a slick gushing sound from your pussy, while the second made you gasp, and the third had your walls tighten around him, taking his and your breath away. The stretch felt so good with how fat of a cock he had. One that felt so much girthier than you’d ever imagine it to be. His cock twitched, heavy, inside you, his pulse beating in time with yous.

“Jesus, princess, you’re squeezing me so tight. Relax,” he rolled his hip about halfway in and still meeting resistance.  Relax.” It came out like a pant. Fuck you were so tighter, like a vice around him. He wanted to take it slow, cherish you, show you how much he’d been missing you, but he was an old dog, and he wouldn’t last that long with how bad you were squeezing him. 

Your hands gripped the sheets, nails cutting the threadbare cheap cotton ones he’d been using for all these years. “Too much Logan.” You could barely breathe, let alone get the words out.

“You can take it, doll, remember?” he groaned, finally sliding in, flesh meeting yours in a wet slap. Your poor little hole stretched to the max as you whimpered. “See? You can take it.” Logan emphasized each word with a thrust of his hips. 

He felt his control slipping, thrusts starting to pick up, super strength coming into play. It coiled deep in his belly as he buried himself to the hilt inside you. “Feel so fucking good. Oh fuck. You’re so perfect, perfect little pussy.”

Logan’s hands move to grab your breasts, pushing them together. He plays with your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and index finger. His pace is brutal, and the position allows him to hit that perfect spot on your gummy walls that has you seeing stars. He’s all grunts and whimpers, silver tips eclipsing the skin of his knuckles. It gets to the point he wants to go faster, the need to cum inside you far too great, and he lets go of your tits and balances himself on the bed. 

The base of his cock swelled, his knot beginning to grow. This was the part you missed the most. The way he’d stretch you out so good on his dick, only to then slip his knot inside you and stretch you even further. 

“Ain’t gonna last much longer, doll.” 

You moan, reaching down to play with your messy clit. It’s so wet between your legs it’s hard to find any purchase, and the sensitive nub slides back and forth so easily. The bed creaks, the wood floors groan, and the bed frame slams against the wall. He’s getting rougher by the second, his knot starting to press against you. 

“Give it to me, I’m ready.”

Logan thrusts forward, his knot sliding in with a satisfying pop, your words spurring him on. He pulses, cock swelling impossibly large before he cums. Thick, hot white ropes paint your insides as he stutters and groans, nearly growls, dropping to his elbows and forcing your knees to your chest. His hips don’t stop moving, still rutting up into you as you play with your clit. You just need a little bit more to push you over the edge. 

His voice is gravely in your ear as he careens over you, half squishing you with his weight. “I love you.” 

It’s the emotion of the moment that makes you cum. Tears in your eyes and love in your heart. Love is a lot like faith, blind trust in the unknown. A bishop can train his whole life, be a theologian, a scholar of the bible, know all of his god’s teachings inside out, and have less faith than a man who’s lived through hell. Putting your trust into the unknown and praying that good comes back to you. You felt like you were finally home, like that piece of yourself you’ve been missing for years is clicking back into place.

Logan didn’t know romance. He was gruff and awkward, snappy at the random way things. But he stood on the outside when you walked along the street, never let you carry anything, and opened every door for you. Never bought you flowers because he hated the local guy who sold them. But he picked them for you daily on his runs. Didn’t ever wash your laundry, but he folded every piece of clothing you owned and hung up all your shirts, all of it, just because you mentioned hating folding clothes to him once. 

He’d never be able to admit to you how much you meant to him fully. When you came into his life, he was close to ending things. There had been so many dark, endless days that only he remembered now. Horrors beyond human comprehension were his burden, shadowing his every waking moment until you came walking into his life.

There’d be a conversation in the morning that probably would rise into an argument. He’d likely storm off, and you’d be there waiting, telling him to get therapy, and this time, he would. This time, he’d go talk to a shrink about the mess in his head and sort it out for you, for himself. This time he wouldn’t fuck it up and leave you in the middle of the night. He’d have the difficult, uncomfortable conversations that activate his fight or flight. 

You were soft under him as he lifted off of you, still unable to pull out due to his knot. He rotated the two of you so you were on top, your chests pressed together as he lazily traced your spine. 

“I love you too.” 

“I love you more, sunbeam.” 

“Oh, absolutely not. You know I hate that name.”

©️ uzuzrimisery

thank you @txjis for beta reading

[cherriesformatt]

boston || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: matt takes reader home to meet his parents and he takes her ice skating for the first time where he used to play hockey

warnings: pure fluff

word count: 1,6k

a/n: Hi!! I combined two requests I hope you're okay with that! I tried my best! Ily <3 I will read proof after work!

based on:

"Hey...do you want some?" Matt asked me when he opened some kind of cookies.

We were on the plane with his brothers right behind us. It was my first time flying to Boston with them and I am going to meet his family. I was shitting my pants and felt like throwing up because we were hour from landing.

"No, thanks" I smiled at him and went back to my book.

We were flying first class and it was nice and quiet here. I am glad because I was able to read and it kept my mind from stressing out.

"You don't have to be scared, they going to love you I told you that already" Matt said and put his hand on my thigh and stroked it.

"You can't possibly know that" I closed my book and looked at him with my worried eyes.

Matt smiled at me and tucked some of my hair behind my ear. He kissed my nose which made me giggle.

"Yes, I do. Justin is chill and our parents even more. Please Marylou probably already has our picture on the wall and Jimmy will want to take you fishing and hope you will say yes because we always say no" He laughed.

I laughed too.

"Please say no because if you say yes we all will need to go" Nick's head popped out of nowhere in the middle of our seats.

It calmed me down just a little bit. But as we landed it all came back. My palms were sweaty and I was fixing my hair and hoodie every three seconds as we waited for our bags in the baggage claim. Chris made me and Matt to take a picture with "Welcome to Boston" sign. And I probably looked like I saw a ghost.

"Justin just landed too and Mom is going to be here in 20 minutes" Nick said looking at his phone.

We collected our luggage and waited on the chairs for their brother.

"It was not hard to find you...Nick you look ridiculous it is so warm outside snd you wearing fucking Uggs" I heard and my eyes followed the voice.

Justin walked up to us. He was a little shorter than his little brothers and had very similar style to Chris. I wouldn't say he looked similar to them but they only shared a mom and also I knew how Justin looked like from the pictures and videos.

They said hi to their brother and he brought so much energy and made everyone laugh. I could see how boys missed their brother a lot.

"And you must be y/n, it is nice to finally meet you. This one does not shut up about you" He embrace me with a warm hug and I smiled hugging him back.

"That would be me. Its nice to meet you too Justin" I said.

"Smart choice, this one can drive and doesn't talk too much" He joked and I laughed.

"Okay let's go...mom is here" Nick said and we went outside to look for their van.

When we found the car I tried to keep my cool. But it was just so normal to be stressed about it. I never did that before. Meet my partners parents. I never felt about anyone as I felt about Matt. He was so important to me that I just needed for his family to accept me because I knew how much his family was important to him.

We all were friends for almost two years now. Me and Matt started dating like 7 months ago but it was going on for longer than that. We were both just too scared to confess our feelings but one day our friends just couldn't stand us and they set us up with a date. And we talked and talked about feelings for hours and there we are now. I am meeting his parents.

"Hi kids! I missed you so much!" Their mom gave them a hug and a kiss and I stand next to them smiling at how adorable it was.

"Hi honey, you're even more pretty in real life... welcome! I hope the flight wasn't bad for you. Matt told me you do not like flying that much" She gave me a warm smile and hugged me too.

"Thank you Ms. Sturniolo... No, it was all great I am so happy to be here" I said and her aura just made me not stress at all anymore.

"Oh please, call me Marylou, get in, choose the best seat before they all start to fight" She laughed.

Boys put all our stuff in the trunk and got in the back so I did seat in the front with their mom. She was asking me about myself and everything else. The conversation was very easy with her. All the way home we were just talking and catching up.

When we got to their house all the brothers just walked in and straight away were met with their dog. Trev was so happy to see them. He was wiggling his tail.

"Oh.. brothers are back Trevor...look at that happy boy" Their mom smiled.

"And Matty brought you new best friend" She aded happily and I smiled and kneeled to give Trevor my hand to sniff.

"Hi buddy I heard so much about you...you're so cute...oh yes you are" I smiled when he let me pet him.

"Probably more than about me, huh?" Their dad walked out from the living room and smiled.

"Hi everyone!" He said and each of his boys hugged their dad hello.

"Good Morning.." I smiled standing up from the floor.

"Hi y/n, I'm Jimmy" He smiled at me and I shook his hand gently and he stroked my arm warmly.

"It is so nice to see you... We were waiting to meet you I am so glad you could visit with boys. " He said and I smiled even more.

"Me too..." I truly said.

"Okay... we are going to put the stuff away and rest a little bit" Matt said.

"Yes.. You guys go, sweetheart if you would ever need anything let me know... I put extra stuff in their bathroom for you and please feel like it is your house" Marylou said and I smiled.

"Thank you..." I said.

We went to Matt's room and I smiled.

"Your parents and brother are just as you said... I am sorry I was stressing out so much. And your house is just so warm and feels like family and love" I said looking at him.

"I told you... Yes, I love coming back home...nowhere feels like here and now that you are here. I have all I need" He kissed me gently and I wrapped my arms around him.

"I love you.."He said when he moved away and I smiled.

"I love you too" I said back and he smiled and kissed my nose.

He always did that and I loved it. He was so cute for that.

"Okay... I will show you whole house later, you go to the bathroom first and than we can have a nap if you want or whatever. Mom said we can eat dinner together" He said and I nodded.

I loved being in Boston. First few days we all spend together. They were showing me around but also we had family movie nights and game nights. I felt very welcomed and part of the family. Their family was everything I ever wanted for my future family.

"Where are we going?" I asked one evening when Matt told me to dress warmer and take a hat.

"Oh.. remember how you told us you never ice skated before?" Chris smiled at me.

"No way...."I said.

"Oh yes way! We kinda booked our old ice ring for the evening" Nick said and I looked at them.

"Thats so cool! I cant wait to see you guys on ice" I said.

"Thats what they said about you" Nate laughed from the back.

He was also going with us.

Once we were there boys collected all the stuff they needed from the trunk and we went in.

"Here I bought this for you. I will help you put them on" Matt said handing me a box with a smile.

"You bought me ice skates? Matt..."I said and pouted my lips.

He kissed my lips and smiled.

"I always wanted to take you and I do not who actually wanted to see you on ice more me or my brothers" He laughed.

We sat on the bench and he helped be put on the skates after he put his own.

"Ready?" He asked and I looked at rest of the group already skating on ice. They were fast. Matt reached for me with his arms.

"Okay.. but do not let them run me over” I said standing up and not letting go of Matt's arms.

"I would never" He laughed and we slowly entered the ice.

"Yes!! Go y/n!" Nick clapped his hands for me and I smiled but concentrated on keeping myself up. He was filming me.

"Slowly...move your legs like you would roller-skate, you did that before so it should be easier" Matt said.

I did as he asked me and I was able to move myself. He let go of one of my arms.

"I think I got it!" I said happily but it caused me to lose my balance and I somehow fell on my bum.

"Ah..baby are you okay?" Matt helped me up and all of them gathered around me.

"Yes... guys I like fell skating 1 mile per hour and you gathered here like I was gonna die here” I laughed.

We spent all evening on ice and I got okay to the point where Matt wasn't scared that I am going to kill myself. They were also filming for a video. I helped them with the camera and was cheering from the bleachers.

I had so much fun. Here and in general. I already knew Boston had a special place in my heart. Seeing boys how they were here with their family and friends. I knew I would always want to be back here with Matt.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: andrei got an all star weekend fic last year, so it’s only right that mat gets one this year! i literally have a million favorite pics from this weekend so i had to use them all i don’t care. i tried to hit a bunch of the main weekend highlights! i’m also aware that some of the timing and stuff is weird in the fic, but we’re just rolling with it and enjoying the vibes. 🧡💙

word count: 7k

tw: innuendo, dirty talk, protected sex, oral (m receiving), fingering (f recieving), thigh riding, extremely minimal editing

summary: all star weekend in toronto with mat is one to remember

“Who do you think will pick you?” You ask, settled comfortably in the middle of the hotel room’s mattress, wrapped warmly in the plush robe. You have the perfect spot to watch Mat at the bathroom sink while he shaves. He’s in his suit pants, but his chest is bare, giving you the opportunity to watch his back and arm muscles move as he works.

“Dunno,” he replies, slightly muffled. You can see his face in the mirror, lips tucked in and half covered in shaving cream. He lets his hand fall to the counter and turns to face you, a crooked smile on his face made even more lopsided by the shaving cream beard. “If it’s not Mo and Auston though, I’m leaving.”

You roll your eyes, knowing that your boyfriend loves Justin Bieber almost more than he loves you. “I want Nate and Cale to pick you. I want to meet Tate McRae.”

“You can meet Tate McRae even if I’m not on her team,” Mat scoffs, returning to his shaving. “When am I ever going to get a chance to be coached by Justin Bieber? Never, Squeaks! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“You’re such a dork,” you murmur affectionately, grinning at his back and tucking your face into the collar of the robe. You have to get up and start getting ready soon, but you’re too comfortable to move. Mat’ll go over to the arena earlier for media interviews and the red carpet, but you don’t have to be there, technically at all, but you want to see the draft.

Mat finishes shaving his face and wipes his cheeks off with the hand towel. “You’re not being very supportive of my dreams,” he informs you dramatically, tossing the dirty towel onto the counter and planting his hands on his hips.

You kneel up on the bed and gape at him, amping up the dramatics. “I’m spending my vacation in cold ass Toronto instead of Baha Mar because I’m supportive of your dreams,” you laugh, throwing your arms out to your sides. “Sue me if I want you to have a good celebrity captain.”

“The Biebs would be the best captain,” Mat replies, crossing over to the bed in a handful of steps, reaching out to rest his hands on your hips. His fingers play with the tie of the robe. “He played hockey and he’s a huge fan.”

“Are their colors at least the blue jersey?” You ask. “You look so good in blue.”

Mat lifts an eyebrow. “That would make you support my coaching dreams? The color blue?”

You hum, resting your hands on his shoulders, playing with the chain around his neck. “I’m very superficial,” you inform him, deadpan.

“Yeah,” Mat replies, equally deadpan, “me too.” He breaks a second later, grinning and peppering kisses all over your face, making you squeal. His fingers dig into your sides, tickling you under the robe, and you wriggle on your knees, slumping forward over his chest when you can’t take it anymore. Gasping laughter saws from your chest and you try to catch your breath, but Mat’s making it hard with his hands splayed over your back. They’re warm and slightly rough and you’re both really wearing barely any clothes, it would be so easy to drag him down onto the bed.

He seems to be telepathically picking up on your thoughts because Mat presses a kiss to your bare shoulder where the robe has slipped off and says, “I gotta finish getting ready or I’m going to be late. But when we get back after the draft, my body is yours to use.”

You pull back and grin at him. “However I want?”

“Yeah,” he snorts, “I need to conserve energy to reclaim my title tomorrow, so you have to do all the work.”

“Pillow princess,” you accuse, pouting at him.

“Just for you, babe,” Mat shoots back, cupping your chin in his hand and tilting your head back so he can really kiss you, licking into your mouth and leaving you wet and wanting when he pulls back. “Start thinking about what position you want me in.”

He winks, laughing, and heads back to the bathroom to finish getting his hair in place. You slump back down on the bed and call to his back, “I’m making sure I get two orgasms before you even get one.”

“Fine by me,” Mat calls back, hands working through his hair. “I like the way you scream my name when you’re coming on my cock.”

Your entire body flushes with heat and you press your thighs together. “Damnit,” you mutter, knowing you need to start getting ready and you definitely don’t have time for even a halfway satisfying orgasm. “For that,” you call, starting to roll off the bed so you can do your hair and makeup, “I get three orgasms before you get one.”

“You’re being so mean to your All-Star,” Mat teases, shrugging into his button down and starting to do up the buttons. You plug in your curling iron and roll your eyes at him.

“Should’ve known all the attention would go to your head,” you sigh, pretending to be burdened by him. “I’m your All-Star, Mr. Barzal, and don’t you forget it.”

His answering grin crinkles his entire face and you go to him easily when he reaches out to grab your wrist and tug you into his chest. “That’s why I’m letting you have your orgasms before I get mine,” he says cheekily, pressing a smacking kiss to your cheek and disappearing to the other side of the room for his shoes.

You huff a little, a small smile playing on your lips, and return to fixing your hair. Mat finishes getting ready, lacing up his dress shoes and pulling on his suit jacket before throwing his arms out to his sides and doing a little half-turn, asking, “so, how do I look?”

“Like my All-Star,” you beam at him, tilting your head up for a kiss. He obliges. “I like this suit a lot,” you continue, reaching for your purse and withdrawing a Sharpie. You hold it up in between your bodies and tuck it into the inside pocket of his jacket. “Just in case.”

Mat pats his hand over the pocket and kisses your forehead. “Thanks, Squeaks. Text me when you get to the arena, okay? I’ll see you after the draft.”

You nod and with one final kiss, Mat’s out the door, leaving you with some peace and quiet to get ready. You do wish that Bo or Noah had been voted in too, so you’d at least have Holly or Alexa to hang out with while you’re watching the events. Mat’s parents and Liana are getting into town tomorrow afternoon, with enough time to join you for the Skills Competition, but until then, you’re on your own.

Luckily, you run into Steph Marner outside of the arena, saving you from the awkward first day of a new school feeling where you’ll either have to sit alone or find someone you know in the arena. You know Steph a little bit from different events and you’re friendly enough, it’s not the same as having one of your girls with you, but she’s a familiar face.

“Hey, girl!” Steph greets you with a hug that you return. “Welcome to the six!”

“I really wish you were welcoming me to the Bahamas,” you laugh, falling into step next to her. The crowds are wild and you look around as you walk in, having never been to an All-Star game before this is so much fun.

She lets loose a laugh, “you and me both! It would’ve been nice to get out of the city for a bit, but what can you do?” She shrugs and you fall into small talk for a little bit, catching up on what’s been happening since you last saw each other.

By the time the draft starts, you’re pleasantly tipsy and getting into the fun. The guys are all sitting on little benches on the ice and it’s adorable watching them swing their legs like toddlers. You snap a few photos of Mat from your spot in the stands, knowing the professional photos you’ll get from the team’s social media team later will be better. The draft starts and you wait impatiently for Mat to be picked.

By the time the fourth round ends and he hasn’t been picked, you’re starting to get cranky on his behalf. And slightly anxious that he’ll be picked last, even though you know logically that won’t happen. On the ice, he keeps swinging his legs, fidgeting in place until finally Mo and Auston pick him to join Team Bieber, along with half the Maple Leafs - Mitch Marner and William Nylander included.

Steph slaps your hand in a high-five, “woohoo! Teammates!”

You laugh and cheer along with her, snapping a picture of Mat getting a hug from Justin Bieber. You immediately send it off to your group chat, adding the message: pretty sure he’s going to leave me for the biebs 😭

The girls flood the chat, but you’re too busy laughing with Steph about Mat and Mitch’s chatter on the Team Bieber bench.

“Oh my god,” you laugh. “Mat’s such a yapper. He must be talking Mitch’s ear off.”

“Please,” Steph waves her hand in the air. “Mitch can’t shut up either. They probably aren’t even listening to each other.”

As the draft continues, you tune out a little since Mat’s been picked. Eventually, you tune back in and your gaze lands on your boyfriend manspreading to an extreme degree. Muffling a laugh with your hand, you shoot him a text, knowing he won’t see it until later: spread your legs a little wider, babe, i want to feel the stretch when i straddle you 👀

The draft comes to an end and it’s a little bit of a whirlwind after that, chatting with people you haven’t seen in a bit and wandering the arena until you find Mat. Or he finds you, actually.

“Team Bieber!” He crows, barely hiding his excitement now that it’s just you in front of him.

You grin at him, squeaked laughter pushed from your lungs when he crushes you to his chest in a hug. “Happy for you, Mat!”

“Babe,” he shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear, “this is gonna be so fucking fun. He hugged me!”

“You are the biggest fangirl I’ve ever seen,” you tease, tucking yourself under his arm and wrapping your arm around his waist. “It’s adorable.”

“I know you’re making fun of me right now,” he says, “but I don’t even care. We’ve got a Bieber concert to get to.”

You shake your head and let yourself be dragged along to the concert, knowing that Mat’s going to have the time of his life listening to one of his favorite artists perform live and that you’re going to get so many videos of him singing along that will immediately be sent to Beau for blackmail material.

The concert is actually beyond fun, and by the time you get back to the hotel, Mat’s completely forgotten about his earlier determination to be a pillow princess and has you out of your sweater and jeans before you really process what’s happening. His mouth and fingers work you up to two hard and fast orgasms, leaving you sweaty and breathless in the middle of the bed.

“Fuck,” you mutter, wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing them, bending your knees to draw his cock closer to your cunt. You clit throbs and the condom-wrapped head of Mat’s cock bumps against it, making you see stars.

“One more each, okay?” Mat mutters, pushing into you slowly. You whine and clench around him, scraping your nails down his back. He hisses at the sting, but doesn’t stop until he’s seated fully inside your pussy, breathing hard. Sweat rolls down his temples, dampening his hair.

You barely last a few minutes, overly sensitive from the last two orgasms, and you come before Mat, stroking your hands over every inch of him you can reach while he pumps his hips into yours. He grunts into your neck when he comes, filling the condom and nearly crushing you with the heavy weight of his body on top of yours. The air is pushed from your lungs, Mat’s sweaty chest pressed against yours.

“Fuck,” he mumbles into your hair, “that felt good. You feel good. Could stay here forever.”

You kiss his shoulder. “I’d make some kind of innuendo about being an all star, but I think my brain is melted,” you say honestly, still wrapped around Mat like an octopus and making no effort to move.

——-

Mat’s Friday is quiet, other than an early afternoon practice for the Saturday game and the Skills Competition at night, so you have a lazy morning with him in bed. Neither of you bothered with clothes the night before, so it’s easy to get your hands on him and harder to get his hands off of you. You slip under the covers and wake him up with your mouth on his cock, sucking him off until he comes in your mouth. After he returns the favror with a slow, lingering orgasm, you shower and decide to head off to explore downtown Toronto for a bit before Mat goes to practice and you head off to the airport in the rental car to pick up Mat’s parents and sister.

“Thank god you’re here,” you give Liana a huge hug after helping everyone load their bags into the trunk. “It’s so hard being the only one around to chirp Mat to his face.”

“Please tell me you have video of the Bieber of it all,” she grins at you, a little evilly. You nod and she she pumps her fist. Nadia shakes her head.

“Don’t be mean to your brother this weekend,” she turns around in the passenger seat to face you both. Michael had insisted on driving back into the city and you weren’t about to argue - Toronto traffic rivaled New York traffic.

Liana rolls her eyes. “Mom, he needs some humbling,” she replies. “It’s good for his character

growth.”

You hide a giggle behind your hand. The Barzal sibling dynamic is one of your favorite things to witness. “I promise, Nadia,” you say, leaning forward a bit, “Mat gets so much praise. He does need a little humbling every once in a while.”

Once you’re back in the city, you drop the car and everyone’s bags off at the hotel and head over to meet Mat at the arena. He’s waiting for you all in the main lobby, looking fresh and clean and beyond adorable in his new All-Stars beanie. His smile is huge and only grows when he gives his parents hugs hello. He rubs the top of Liana’s head in a noogie that has her punching his arm, while they both laugh.

“Hi,” you smile up at him. You missed him even though it’s been less than two hours since you saw him.

“Hi,” Mat kisses you quickly before tugging the beanie off his head and unceremoniously dropping it on yours, tugging the cuff of it low over your forehead and smushing your hair. You wrinkle your nose at him and he raises an eyebrow. “It’s cold and you look cute in it.”

You lift your phone, the screen lighting up to display a handful of social media notifications and texts, “not as cute as you, according to the Twitter girlies. Apparently, you’re giving babygirl.” Your grin is shit-eating and Liana openly cracks up next to you, even as Michael and Nadia frown at each other, completely confused by the social media phrases.

Mat’s ears go pink and he nudges his hip against yours. “Shut up, let’s just go for lunch and not talk about that,” he rests his hand against your lower back and slings the other arm over Liana’s shoulder, guiding the both of you out of the arena.

“Oh no,” his sister says in a sugary-sweet tone, “we’re definitely talking about it. I have a few of my favorites bookmarked to mention…” She trails off, starting to scroll through her phone.

“Mom!” Mat whips his head around to look at Nadia. She plucks the phone from Liana’s hands and stashes it in her purse.

Michael, in order to cut off Liana’s complaint, jumps in, “Mat, tell us about Patrick Roy. How’s the change going?”

Luckily, the new coach is a topic Mat could happily chatter on about for hours, so he takes the bait and you end up having a fairly peaceful lunch before heading back to the hotel for a little relaxation before the Skills Competition. Liana comes to hang out with you and Mat, while Michael and Nadia get in a quick nap after their long flight. You put a movie on, but really the three of you end up gossiping and catching up, before Mat finally kicks you both out so he can get in a short nap too.

“Love you,” he kisses you before essentially pushing you out the door.

“Yeah, I really feel the love,” you roll your eyes, quickly pulling your coat back before Mat can close the door on it.

Liana smiles at you wryly. “I don’t know how you put up with him, but thank god for you. Let’s go get a coffee,” she says, linking arms with you as you stroll down to the elevators. You have the toque back on your head, adjusted so it’s not smashing your hair flat, and you can’t help but smile when you think about Mat putting it on your head in the first place.

“He’s surprisingly easy to love,” you laugh. “When he’s not being a drama queen.”

“Ugh,” Liana rolls her eyes affectionately, “you guys are disgusting.”

“Be nice or I’m going to decide to renovate the guest room during the week in April you’re coming to visit,” you joke.

——-

The arena is even louder and more chaotic during the Skills Competition and you’re having fun with Liana, taking pictures and getting snacks while you wait for everything to start.

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, scrolling through Instagram before the events start. The reel the team’s socials have posted of Mat picking out his skate blades has your panties immediately damp and you’re ready to demand it get taken down for your own sanity. You shift in your seat, damp fabric scraping against your wet cunt.

Liana looks over your shoulder to see what you’re looking at. “Oh gross,” she fakes a gagging noise. “He needs to put those away.”

“Or save them just for me,” you mumble, for her ears only. As much as you love Nadia and Michael, they don’t need to hear how horny you are for their son. Liana bumps your shoulder and your fingers slip over the screen.

“I’m gonna go blind, put that thirst trap away,” she frowns. “They’re going to start now.”

She’s right and Mat is the first one introduced on the ice. The four of you jump to your feet and scream for him, your heart pounding with excitement. Mat looks so stupidly happy to be on the ice, you can’t help but let out an extra loud wolf-whistle for him.

The Fastest Skater competition is up first and you won’t admit it, but you’re a little nervous for Mat to hold onto his title. You clench your hands together while William Nylander, Quinn Hughes, and Cale Makar go, crossing your fingers when their times are all over 14 seconds.

Mat’s fourth and you scream when he’s under 14 seconds, holding first until, of course, Connor McDavid unseats him. It’s annoying and a little frustrating, but you’re still beyond proud of Mat for being so close.

“Fuck that!” Liana grumbles, echoing your thoughts.

“He’s fastest skater in my heart,” you whisper back, purposely not telling her your plan to giving him a blow job at the end of the night.

One Timers is next. Honestly, you have no idea what the rules on this one are, but you just enjoy the show. Especially since Mat’s not that great in this competition in the end. You can see the scowl on his face and even Nadia laughs a little.

“He’s so hard on himself, even for fun events,” she shakes her head.

You can see him shake his head after his turn at the Passing Challenge, but honestly you’re really just focused on down damn good he looks with the backwards cap on his head. Watching Mat show off his skills is always your favorite thing. Mat takes third in this challenge and then talks to Kevin Weekes on ice and you record him while he talks, loving that crooked smile of his.

“I can’t believe he’s tied for first,” Liana shakes her head, filling in Michael and Nadia as they come back to the seats with drinks. “Think he’ll drop a couple thousand my way?”

“I’ll make sure of it,” you nudge her side. “Right after he funds my tropical vacation.”

During the musical break, you both get up to use the bathroom and stretch your legs. Your phone is vibrating with texts from the team and the girls, chirping Mat and making sure you know to pass on the messages.

Mat’s final event is Stick Handling and you keep your fingers crossed throughout the break - he’s in third overall and honestly you think he could pull off a win. Either way, you know you’re going to celebrate with him later.

“That’s my man!” You shout when Mat’s announced for second place. “Silkiest mits in the league!”

Liana and Nadia jump up to celebrate with you - Mat’s tied for first over all with one competition left.

He makes it to the next round and the three of you cheer, laughing and more than a little tipsy off of arena beers and cocktails. It’s so much more fun to cheer him on and celebrate Mat with his family.

“I always forget how good he is,” Nadia comments. “I know he’s good, but he’s having fun out there too.”

“No, he was literally off the wall excited to come back,” you tell her. “Being selected and then getting to replace Jack Hughes in the skills comp, on top of the new coach, Mat’s been in such a good mood lately.”

“He’s also whipped,” Liana teases you. You stick your tongue out at her.

“He just knows when he has to listen and turn off his hockey brain,” you shrug, talking over the music.

“Oh, Mat sucks at the shootout,” you groan, seeing what the One on One competition entails. “I just need him to not be last on this one.”

Mat picks Igor Shesterkin as his goalie and you watch him collect six points and sit in a tie for third. The New York rivalry runs strong and you can’t wait for the Stadium Series game in two weeks. You’re kind of treating the cold in Toronto as a preview of sitting out in the cold in New Jersey.

And with that, Mat’s onto the final round.

“One step closer to that cool million,” Liana grins. “You know how big of an engagement ring you could get with that…”

You choke on your sip of water and Michael claps you on the back while Nadia frowns at Liana. “No way I need or want something that big,” you manage to squeak out. “Not to be, like, basic, but I’d take a page out of Taylor Swift’s book and marry him with a paper ring.”

Your entire face feels like it’s burning red, talking about marrying Mat in front of his parents. You do, obviously, want to marry him, but it feels strange to say so in front of his parents when you’ve only met them a handful of times.

Liana’s shit-eating grin is identical to Mat’s. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she says and when you try to say anything, she shushes you and points to the ice, where the obstacle course is starting.

“Oh, he’s locked in,” Liana says and you’re all leaning forward in your seats as Mat goes through the obstacles.

“Oh god,” you groan, covering your eyes with your hands as Mat struggles with the little nets. Liana and Nadia wince at your sides. It’s like a train wreck, you can’t look away from his struggle. When they have to bring out more pucks for him, your heart sinks into your stomach.

Mat’s time in the end is awful, and you can see his disappointment on his face when he looks up at the jumbotron. He would’ve beaten McDavid if the nets hadn’t tripped him up.

“Ah, he did his best,” Michael says and you nod. It sucks that Mat didn’t place higher, but you’re so proud of him. Considering he wasn’t even chosen to be in the Skills Competition in the first place, the fact that he made it to the final round and nearly won is an incredible effort.

Mat texts you all in a group chat that you’d honestly forgotten existed, letting you know that he still has to shower and do some media availability, so he’ll meet you all back at the hotel.

Michael and Nadia decide to head to bed and you promise to let Mat know - you’ll all get together for breakfast before Mat goes to his morning skate before the game at 3. You and Liana hang out in the hotel bar until Mat joins you a little more than an hour later, spotting you immediately and wedging himself in the few inches of space left in the arm chair you’re sitting in. He squishes you to the side with his thighs, spreading them without concern. His arms wrap around your shoulders and he kisses the side of your head. “Hey, Squeaks,” he greets you, adjusting so one of your legs is draped over his and you’re as close as you could possibly be.

“Jesus,” Liana mutters. “Get a room.”

Mat squints at her, “I would love to.”

You nudge his side and murmur, “behave,” at him. All that does is encourage Mat to get in your face and kiss you hungrily. A surprised giggle is swallowed by Mat’s mouth and Liana’s disgusted scoff makes Mat smile against your lips.

“I’m going to bed,” she pushes up from her chair. “See you two in the morning. And wear a condom, I’m not ready to be an aunt.”

You and Mat choke simultaneously, Liana’s laughter echoing as she dances away. You drop your forehead to Mat’s shoulder and he shakes his head, “she really knows how to kill the mood.”

When you shift your leg though, you can feel the bulge of Mat’s cock against your thigh. “I don’t think she killed the mood that much,” you tease, curling closer to him. “Should we go upstairs and I can reward you for being the all-star of my heart?”

“Cheesy,” Mat accuses even as he’s pulling you to your feet and guiding you to the elevator bank. “I’m exhausted though, I didn’t realize how much work the obstacle course would be.”

“I’ll do all the work, don’t you worry,” you grin at him.

Less than ten minutes later you have him on his back, cunt clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, fuck,” Mat groans, fingers digging into your hips. “Baby, god, fuck feels so good.”

You lean forward, bouncing over Mat’s cock, nails digging into his chest. “Wanted to do this all day,” you gasp. “All the posts, your fucking thighs, Mat! Been soaked for you.”

He laughs underneath you, sliding one hand to play with your clit. You whine and feel your arousal leak from your body, smearing all over Mat’s pelvis. “Thought about riding my thighs, baby?” He asks, gripping your hip even tighter and helping you bounce on him.

“Every fucking day,” you admit, choking on air when Mat bucks his hips up into yours, the head of his cock smacking against your g-spot. “All-Star Mat is my favorite Mat.”

His face is red from exertion, beads of sweat rolling down his temples, but even still you can tell that your praise is getting to him, flushing his chest pink and making his rhythm over your clit stutter. You grin wickedly down at him, knowing exactly how you want to play him.

“I’m so proud of you,” you murmur sincerely, grinding down on him. “Came in and killed it, made it look easy,” you hiccup on a particularly aggressive bounce, “so fucking handsome. My all-star. Mine, mine, mine.”

“Fuuuuck” Mat drags out the curse, bending his knees and planting his feet on the mattress so he can fuck up into you roughly. “Jesus. Wanted to win ‘cause you were there.”

You whimper every time Mat’s cock hits your g-spot, nearly there, and praise him again, “always a winner. Always my winner. Love you so much.”

Mat’s cock thickens inside of you while you clench around him and you plant your hands on his stomach for leverage and to feel his muscles bunch up in the lead up to his orgasm. He groans and squeezes a handful of your ass, bucking up into you harshly. “Gonna - sorry, baby. Need to come,” he groans your name, filling the condom with a deep growl. You keep riding him through it, replacing his hand on your clit with yours so he can grip your hips and bounce you while he finishes.

“C’mon, fill me up,” you whine, chanting his name, rolling your fingers over your clit until you finish a few seconds after him, gushing around the base of his cock and his lower stomach. You slump over his chest and Mat grunts underneath you, smoothing his hands over your ass.

“God, that was fucking amazing,” he mutters into your hair, kissing your cheek. “Gotta be the all-star more often.”

You laugh and wiggle your ass over him, cunt clenching lazily around him. “I dunno, I was supposed to take care of you, but you took over there for a bit,” you mumble against his skin.

“Couldn’t help it,” he shrugs, “looked so fucking good with your tits bouncing, that gorgeous face you make when I hit as deep as possible.” He yawns a little, swallowing the last few words of his sentence.

“Shut up,” you laugh lightly, swatting at his chest while you roll off of him, sticky and sore. Mat moves to get up, but you push him back a little and wrap a hand around his hip. “I’ve got it.” You make quick work of the condom, tying a knot at the top and padding into the bathroom to get rid of it. You rinse off quickly and bring Mat back a damp washcloth to clean off his stomach, but by the time you get back into the bedroom, he’s got one arm tucked behind his head and he’s fast asleep, letting out gentle grumbling snores.

You laugh a little to yourself, shaking your head. Men.

Still, you wipe him off carefully - not that it matters, he doesn’t move at all - and climb into bed with him, after stealing a clean t-shirt from his suitcase.

Mat chokes a little on his snore and rolls over, grabbing you around the waist and hauling you close to his chest. His arm is a strong lock over your stomach and you shift, getting comfortable before falling asleep with the warm weight of Mat’s body at your back.

You wake up a little bit later, with one of Mat’s thighs wedged in between your legs, corded muscle pressed up against your cunt, making it throb. You grind experimentally over his leg and he grunts against your hair, warm breath fanning over the back of your neck and making you shiver.

“Mat?” You whisper his name quietly and his arm tightens around your waist. You trace your fingertips over the veins on his hand.

His thigh flexes against you and you gasp, warmth pooling between your legs.

“Told you to use me,” Mat mumbles sleepily, kissing behind your ear. “Go ‘head.”

His hand is splayed flat over your stomach and he pushes gently, spurring you into movement. Your hips rock lazily over his thigh, the sleepy rhythm making it hard for you to hold onto the coil of pleasure. Mat rocks his half-hard cock into your backside and you sigh softly, heat building in your blood.

“Feels good,” he sighs, helping you move over him, eyes still shut. He hikes his thigh up higher, catching your clit on his leg hair and sensing a wave of pleasure through your body.

You whine his name, burying your fingers between your legs to help coax yourself to an orgasm. “Wanna feel you,” you whisper and Mat’s hand slips between your bodies, leaving your stomach cold, so he can roughly jerk his cock a few times, tugging until he’s harder.

He pulls you back by the hip, until his cock is nestled between your thighs and you angle back against him, slipping the head of him inside your entrance. A breathy sigh escapes your lungs and Mat rocks his hips so his cock thrusts in and out of your shallowly. Between his cock and your fingers, you’re falling over the cliff of pleasure within seconds, slick covering your thighs.

“Roll over,” you rasp, legs still trembling. You’re not about to go searching in the dark for a condom, so you settle yourself in between Mat’s powerful thighs and take him into your mouth, tasting yourself on him. Both of his hands land on your head, tangling in your hair and holding you in place while you lick at him, kissing the head of his cock and hollowing your cheeks around him until he’s coming in your mouth.

Mat groans, hips bucking up into your mouth, eyes screwed shut. “Babe, christ, love that fucking mouth,” he says hoarsely, hauling you up his body when you’re done so he can kiss you sleepily.

You’re exhausted and close your eyes again, lying over Mat’s chest, his arms wrapped around your back. “You make me so stupid,” you mumble against his collarbone, asleep before you know it.

——-

Saturday is the big game day and after your middle of the night sexcapades, you and Mat oversleep so he just barely has time for breakfast with everyone before he’s off to the arena for a little morning skate and a brief stint on NHL News.

You and the Barzals decide to take in a little bit of the Fan Fest before exploring downtown Toronto before the game starts. It’s fun to spend so much time with Mat’s family and you’re looking forward for them to coming to Long Island for Easter.

The games themselves are beyond fun to watch, since the guys are all taking it seriously while still having a good time.

When Mat and Team Bieber make it to the finals, you and Liana are beside yourselves, screaming with excitement.

“Mat willed them to a win so he can spend more time with Justin,” Liana laughs and you agree.

“Honestly, I’m not convinced he wouldn’t dump me for Justin,” you snort, snapping a picture of Mat on the ice.

Team Bieber/Matthews wins the whole thing and you know it’s just a silly fun weekend, but you can’t help be so incredibly proud of Mat and his performance all weekend. He’s been so light and happy all weekend and you know it was the break he needed to reset for the second half of the season.

After he finishes with post-game media availabilities - where he apparently mentions his future kids, much to Liana and Nadia’s delight and your slight panic, one day but definitely not any time soon - he comes and meets you all for dinner. Mat’s still buzzing from adrenaline and won’t shut up about Justin Bieber as a coach.

“He was just so invested,” he says. “Really wanted to win and knew what he was talking about.”

“Who’s a better coach,” you cut in slyly, “Justin Bieber or Patrick?”

He pins you with a wry look, as his parents laugh. “Squeaks, that’s just not fair.”

“It’s also not even a competition,” Michael points out. “I would think Patrick Roy has nothing on Justin Bieber’s enthusiasm.”

You recognize your boyfriend’s father’s sarcastic joke and giggle. Everyone knows about Patrick’s enthusiastic coaching style.

“I actually can’t wait to get back to it,” Mat says, swiping a bite of your steak off your plate. “I feel really good about the back half.”

Dinner continues comfortably for another few hours, Mat soaking up time with his family while he doesn’t have to worry about practice or a game tomorrow. Eventually, you all head back to your rooms - the Barzals are flying back to Vancouver tomorrow afternoon, while you and Mat get to enjoy the day together before the team flies in before the game.

“Oh, hey, check this out,” Mat’s nearly bouncing when you get back to your hotel room, directing your attention to a huge gift bag sitting on the bed.

You raise an eyebrow, “all star game swag?”

“Even better,” Mat’s eyes are wide. “Justin gave us all some stuff from his line.”

Muffling a giggle with your hand, you poke at the gift bag. “Justin? Your new best friend?” You ask, dryly, spotting a grey hoodie at the top of the pile.

Mat nudges you with his knuckles. “Just for that, I’m not sharing my new gear,” he informs you, pulling each item out of the bag. He’s like a kid on Christmas, giddy with each piece of merch and relaying more stories about Justin behind the bench, like you haven’t heard them all already.

You indulge him, getting ready for bed as he talks, giving him a soft, affectionate smile when he finally pauses his yapping. “You are such a dork,” you murmur, squishing his cheeks between your palms and planting a quick kiss on her pursed lips. “It’s a good thing you’re so cute.”

——

Sunday is quiet, festivities over. Mat immediately pulls on his new Drew hoodie and you snag the sweats, going for comfort over fashion for your day.

“Steal that sweatshirt and send it to me,” Liana says, hugging you goodbye.

“Over my dead body,” Mat shakes his head at her. “Buy your own.”

You sling an arm around Mat’s waist and lean into him. “Oh, calm down. No one’s stealing the gifts your boyfriend gave you,” you wrinkle your nose at him in a crinkly-eyed smile.

He snaps at the waist band of your pilfered sweats and gives you a stink eye. You laugh, “I live with you! They’re going back to our shared dresser.”

“In my drawer,” Mat says and you nod, indulging him. You both know that you’re keeping the sweats.

Once Mat’s parents and Liana are off to the airport, the rest of the day is chill. You’re soaking up the time with Mat before he goes back into the grind for the back half of the season.

“Hey,” you say at dinner later, nudging his foot with yours under the table.

Mat looks up from the menu, hair a little messy, eyes still bright from the excitement of the weekend.

“I just…I’m really proud of you,” you manage to say around the little ball of emotion in your throat. You reach across the table and lace your fingers with his and Mat squeezes them gently. “This has been the best weekend and I hope you get to bring this excitement to the back half of the season.”

His grins at you, that crooked smile of his that you love so much, and says, “having you here was the second best part of the weekend.”

“Let me guess,” you deadpan, “becoming besties with Justin was the best part?”

He nods, eyes twinkling, “yep.”

“I hate you,” you snort a laugh, smiling despite yourself.

“It’s a really close second though,” Mat assures you.

With a faint sigh, you shake your head, “I see where I stand. Maybe I’ll just have to cheer for the Leafs tomorrow.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Mat rushes to say and you kick his shin lightly.

“Of course not,” you scoff. “What kind of Long Islander would I be, rooting for the enemy?”

Mat pinches your palm, “a terrible one and an awful girlfriend too.”

You hum and say nonchalantly, “you’d think two blowjobs in a weekend, plus riding you, would cement me as best girlfriend ever.”

“Make it three and I’ll marry you right now,” Mat jokes, surprising a laugh out of your chest. Your heart skips a beat in your chest at the mention of marrying Mat, even as a little joke. You want to be his forever.

“You know,” you say, voice shaking just slightly, “marriage is all about give and take.”

Mat bumps his knee against yours, grinning wickedly. “Baby, if you wanted an orgasm, all you had to do was ask,” he says, voice low so he won’t be heard in the restaurant.

Your entire body heats with lust and you brush your fingers over your lips, hiding the involuntary little smile Mat’s words elicit. “Oh,” your voice is breathless, “well, if that’s all it takes.”

“You going to ask for what you want?” Mat asks, running his thumb over the backs of your knuckles.

Leaning forward, you hum, catching the faint hint of Mat’s cologne and the hotel shampoo. You wet your lower lip and watch as Mat’s gaze tracks the tiny movement of your tongue. Quietly, you murmur just for Mat’s ears, “I want some all-star orgasms before I become a hockey widow again.”

Mat chuckles and leans forward too so he can give you a quick kiss. “I think I can make that happen,” he replies easily, leaning back in his seat. You can see from the way his body shifts that he’s spreading his legs again. You shift in your seat, feeling hot. He smirks a little at you, clearly seeing the way your body reacts to him.

Fuck, it may be a three blowjob weekend after all.

[emjayewrites]

Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton) (9/15)

SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?

INSPO: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @mauvecherie-writes @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @lovebittenbyevans @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @httpsserene @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @xoscar03 @saturnville @weetjy @pinkcatcus @lewlewlemon44 @cranberryjulce @chaoticcoffeequeen @vile-harlot @periodjosh @melanin-queen369 @destinyg237 @niahxo @purplelewlew @ffenthusiastt

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

CHAPTER 9: New Horizons

Rorie stood in front of the full-length mirror, admiring the sleek Tommy Hilfiger outfit she was wearing for the promotional photoshoot. The partnership felt like a breath of fresh air amidst the recent turmoil. She smoothed down the crisp white blouse, tucked neatly into tailored navy trousers, a look that perfectly blended sophistication with her signature laid-back style.

"You look stunning, Rorie," the photographer called out. Rorie smiled, ready to face the cameras.

This shoot in the Culver City studio was the final piece of her campaign with Tommy Hilfiger. Most of the work had been done in New York a few weeks back - a whirlwind three days of shooting on the bustling streets of Manhattan, in Central Park, and atop a skyscraper with the city skyline as a backdrop. Those images had captured the essence of the brand's urban chic aesthetic, with Rorie as the perfect embodiment of modern, dynamic womanhood.

Today's shoot was for some additional lifestyle shots - casual moments that showed off the versatility of the collection. Rorie moved through a series of poses, from lounging on a minimalist sofa to standing by floor-to-ceiling windows, the soft California light adding a warm glow to each frame.

Between shots, Rorie chatted with the styling team, discussing the collection and her excitement about the partnership. It felt good to focus on her career, to have something positive to pour her energy into after the recent drama. And speaking of it, Deja finally managed to shut her mouth and stay off of social media.

That bitch needs her ass whooped...maybe I should've let KiKi drag her.

A couple of days ago, many of her good friends, KiKi being one of them, came to her defense and even threatened to hunt Deja down and let her reap the consequences of spreading lies, but as usual, Rorie was above the nonsense, and decided against it. Unfortunately, the damage from Deja was already done, and making things worse was not ideal, especially for her lawyers. A mixture of messages, ranging from support to vitriol continued to arrive daily in her comments and DM's, so much so that she had to disable both to safeguard her mental wellbeing.

All in all, work and home life was a welcomed - and needed - distraction from all of the bullshit.

"That's a wrap!" the director called out after a few hours. Rorie let out a small sigh of relief. As much as she enjoyed modeling, it was always intense work.

As she changed back into her own clothes, her phone buzzed with a message from Lewis:

Dinner with Fred Vasseur tonight. Big news. Love you.

Rorie's heart raced. She knew what this dinner could mean - a potential move to Ferrari for Lewis. It was exciting and terrifying all at once.

Later that evening, Rorie and Lewis arrived at Spago, Wolfgang Puck's flagship restaurant in Beverly Hills. As they approached the table, Fred Vasseur and his wife, Marie-Laure, stood to greet them.

"Lewis!" Fred exclaimed, embracing Lewis warmly and kissing him on both cheeks. "And the lovely Rorie," he continued, offering her the same warm greeting.

Marie-Laure followed suit, her elegant perfume wafting as she leaned in to kiss Rorie's cheeks. "It's wonderful to see you both," she said with a genuine smile.

As they settled into their seats, the sommelier approached, and after a brief consultation, Fred ordered a bottle of Château Margaux. "To celebrate old times and new beginnings," he said with a wink.

They then perused the menu, and the conversation flowed easily, touching on everything from Lewis's recent races to Rorie's upcoming partnership with Tommy Hilfiger.

"I can't wait to see some of the campaign photos," Marie-Laure commented. "You'll bring such vitality to the brand."

Rorie's cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. "Thank you. It's been an exciting project to work on."

After their appetizers were cleared away, Fred leaned in, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "So, Lewis," he began, swirling his glass of wine. "How would you feel about wearing red in 2025?"

Lewis glanced at Rorie, who nodded encouragingly. She could see the spark of excitement in his eyes, but also a hint of hesitation.

"I've been thinking," Lewis began, his voice thoughtful. "I've been with Mercedes for so long, and Toto has been incredible. But we haven't been winning races or championships lately, and I'm not getting any younger."

Fred nodded understandingly. "We know it's a big decision, Lewis. But we believe Ferrari can give you the car to claim those additional World Driver's Championships before you retire."

Lewis leaned forward, his expression serious. "If I come to Ferrari, I want to do more than just drive. I want to implement DEI trainings, make the team more inclusive, like I did at Mercedes."

"Absolutely," Fred agreed enthusiastically. "We've been impressed by your work off the track as much as on it. Your vision aligns perfectly with where we want to take Ferrari."

Rorie watched the exchange with pride, seeing Lewis's passion for both racing and social change shine through.

"It's not just about the championships," Lewis continued. "It's about leaving a lasting impact on the sport and the team."

Marie-Laure smiled warmly. "And that's exactly why we want you, Lewis. Your influence extends far beyond the racetrack."

As the main course arrived, they delved deeper into the details - the contract terms, the vision for the future, and the potential impact Lewis could have on the team culture.

By the time dessert was served, the foundations of a deal were firmly in place. As they said their goodbyes, with promises to finalize everything in the coming weeks, Rorie felt a mix of emotions washing over her. This move would be huge for Lewis's career and his broader goals, opening up new opportunities and challenges.

The drive back to their Malibu home was quiet, the usual LA traffic surprisingly light. Lewis held Rorie's hand tightly as he navigated the nighttime streets, the city's lights twinkling around them. Despite the silence, Rorie could sense the nervous energy still bubbling within Lewis. His thumb absently traced circles on her hand, a telltale sign of his racing thoughts.

Once home, they relieved Nina and settled in the backyard, watching the waves crash against the beach in the distance. The rhythmic sound of the ocean provided a soothing backdrop to their conversation.

"It's a big change," Rorie said softly, breaking the silence.

Lewis nodded, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "It is. But it feels right, you know? A new challenge, a chance to make a real difference."

They talked about the potential move to Ferrari, the excitement and the apprehension intertwining in their words. The conversation then shifted to the ongoing situation with Deja.

"I still can't believe she did this," Lewis said, shaking his head.

Rorie sighed. "I know. And even though KiKi wants to fight Deja, she's still acting weird herself."

"What do you mean?"

"Tia told me that KiKi's back with her ex," Rorie replied hesitantly.

Lewis's brow furrowed. "Khalil?" When Rorie nodded, he let out a frustrated groan. "I thought she was done with him. What about Miles?"

Rorie leaned into Lewis's side. "Apparently, Miles was trying to move things into more serious territory, and KiKi got scared. Tia thinks it's because of her low self-esteem, and how Khalil never wanted to commit to her before."

"So she's falling back into old patterns," Lewis mused.

"Yeah. The girls and I are planning to talk to her about it. Kind of like an intervention, I guess."

Lewis chuckled softly. "Sounds intense. But necessary, probably."

Rorie nodded. "And... I think we both need to apologize to KiKi too. For placing suspicion on her. I feel so bad that we did that."

Lewis was quiet for a moment before agreeing. "You're right. We haven't been the best friends we could be." He pressed a kiss to his wife's temple. "Whatever comes next, we've got this," he murmured.

Rorie smiled, snuggling closer to him. "Together," she agreed, as the waves continued their endless dance with the shore.

The next few days went by quickly. With the Las Vegas Grand Prix approaching, Rorie found herself juggling preparations for an Almave pop-up bar during race weekend alongside her usual responsibilities. Managing multiple homes at once was proving to be a Herculean task. Their London house was undergoing renovations, with Lewis's brother Nicolas supervising the work. Her family was currently at their Colorado home, where she'd just hired a new housekeeper. The Monaco penthouse needed attention, and of course, there was their Malibu home to consider.

Rorie sighed as she thought about Luisa, their Malibu housekeeper, who'd been sick lately and rather short in their conversations. She made a mental note to send over a care package. As she juggled all these balls, along with her growing list of campaigns and ambassadorships, Rorie couldn't help but wish she were an octopus, with enough arms to handle everything at once.

"I really need to consider hiring a personal assistant," she muttered to herself as she confirmed yet another appointment.

Amidst all this, Rorie found solace in quiet moments at home with Lyric and Roscoe. Watching Lyric toddle after Roscoe, giggling with delight, Rorie felt content, which made her upcoming OB/GYN appointment all the more significant.

The day of the appointment soon arrived, and Rorie found herself in Dr. Chen's office. The waiting room was a vibrant space, with walls painted in soothing shades of blue and green. Colorful artwork adorned the walls, interspersed with framed photographs of smiling babies - all delivered by Dr. Chen herself. Soft background music and the gentle burble of a small fountain in the corner was a nice touch of calmness, and a refreshment station offered water, herbal teas, and fresh fruit, adding to the welcoming atmosphere.

In one corner, a play area was set up with soft foam mats and an array of toys. Lyric immediately gravitated towards it, joining a couple of other children in stacking blocks and rolling toy cars. Rorie and Lewis settled into the plush chairs, watching their son play.

"He's getting so big," Lewis murmured, a hint of wonder in his voice.

Rorie nodded, squeezing his hand. "Time flies, doesn't it?"

Lewis nodded, his eyes soft as he watched their son. "Do you think he's ready to be a big brother?"

Rorie considered for a moment. "I think so. He's been so gentle with younger kids at playgroup. We'll need to prepare him, though."

"Maybe we could start reading him books about being a big brother," Lewis suggested. "And involve him in setting up the nursery when the time comes."

"That's a great idea," Rorie agreed. "We should also make sure to give him extra attention, so he doesn't feel left out."

Their conversation was interrupted as a nurse in cheerful floral scrubs called their name. "Hamilton family?" she said with a warm smile.

Lewis stood, scooping up Lyric who protested leaving his new playmates. "Come on, little man," Lewis said, settling Lyric on his hip.

The nurse led them down a corridor lined with more baby photos and inspirational quotes about parenthood. "He's adorable," she commented, grinning at Lyric. "How old is he now?"

"Sixteen months," Rorie replied proudly.

"Oh, a big boy!" the nurse said, smiling at Lyric. "Are you being good to your Mommy and Daddy?"

"Say 'no'," Lewis joked, lightly pinching his son's cheek and causing the nurse to laugh.

They entered Dr. Chen's office, which was just as inviting as the waiting room. Soft, natural light filtered through gauzy curtains, and potted plants added a touch of nature to the space. The examination table was draped with a colorful, patterned cloth, making it look less clinical.

Dr. Chen greeted them warmly, her kind eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled. "How are we all doing today?" she asked, giving Lyric a little wave. As Rorie settled onto the examination table, Lewis sat nearby with Lyric on his lap. "And how have you been feeling, Rorie?"

"I've been feeling pretty good," Rorie replied. "A bit nauseous in the mornings, and I've had some weird cravings."

Dr. Chen nodded, making notes. "And you took a home pregnancy test, correct?"

"Yes, it was positive," Rorie confirmed, hope evident in her voice.

Dr. Chen began the ultrasound, and the room fell silent. Lewis held Rorie's hand tightly, his thumb tracing soothing circles on her skin. They both watched the screen intently, hope and anxiety mingling in the air.

As the minutes ticked by, Dr. Chen's brow furrowed in concentration. She moved the wand, checking different angles, her expression growing more concerned. Finally, she set down the wand with a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry," she said gently, "but I'm not detecting a heartbeat. It appears to have been a false positive."

Disbelief etched on her face. "But... I've been feeling nauseous. I've had cravings. I haven't had my period..."

Dr. Chen's voice was compassionate as she explained, "Sometimes, stress can mimic pregnancy symptoms. Given everything that's been happening in your life recently, it's possible that stress is the cause of these symptoms."

Rorie fell silent and her heart sank, tears welling up in her eyes as she processed the information. Lewis, sensing her withdrawal, spoke up. "What are our options moving forward, Dr. Chen?"

Dr. Chen's tone was gentle but optimistic as she replied, "We still have two embryos frozen from your previous IVF cycle. If you're ready, we could discuss trying IVF again."

She went on to explain the process in detail, outlining the steps, potential risks, and success rates. Throughout the explanation, she maintained a tone of gentle encouragement, emphasizing that there were still possibilities ahead.

As Dr. Chen finished speaking, she offered them a moment alone. "Take all the time you need," she said softly, before stepping out of the room.

In the quiet that followed, Lewis enveloped Rorie in a tight embrace, Lyric nestled between them. Rorie clung to him, still processing the news. As her initial shock began to subside, she looked down at Lyric, who was watching them with curious eyes. Tears began to fall freely down Rorie's cheeks, her body shaking with quiet sobs.

Lyric, sensing his mother's distress, reached out a tiny hand and placed it gently on Rorie's wet cheek. The innocent gesture of comfort broke something inside her.

"Oh, my sweet baby," Rorie whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. She pulled Lyric closer, crying into his soft curls. Between sobs, Rorie turned to Lewis. "I'm so sorry," she managed to say, her words muffled and broken.

Lewis shook his head, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "It's okay, love. It's not your fault," he said softly, wrapping his arms around both Rorie and Lyric. "Remember what Dr. Chen said? These things happen, and we still have options." He pressed a kiss to her temple, his voice steady and reassuring. "I love you, Rorie. We'll get through this together, I promise."

Rorie nodded, unable to speak through her tears but drawing comfort from Lewis's words and the warmth of her family's embrace. Lyric, not fully understanding but instinctively offering comfort, snuggled closer to his mother.

In that moment, surrounded by the love of her husband and son, Rorie felt a glimmer of hope through her grief. The path ahead was uncertain, but she wasn't walking it alone.

As they prepared to leave, Rorie found her voice again. "Maybe we should take some time to think about the IVF," she said quietly. "We have a lot going on right now."

Lewis nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Of course, love. We'll take it one day at a time."

The neon lights of Las Vegas blazed against the night sky, casting a surreal glow over the city as it prepared for its inaugural Grand Prix. Lewis stood on the balcony of his suite at the Wynn, taking in the spectacle below. The energy was electric, but Lewis felt oddly disconnected from it all.

His mind wandered to Rorie, back in Colorado with Lyric. She had been withdrawn since their visit to Dr. Chen, the false positive pregnancy test hitting her harder than either of them had anticipated. Lewis had encouraged her to sit this race weekend out, to focus on her mental health, but her absence left a palpable void.

The news had been tough on him too. He'd allowed himself to imagine their family growing, Lyric becoming a big brother. But as Dr. Chen had gently reminded them, they still had options. Two frozen embryos waited, a possibility for the future. Yet, Lewis knew the decision to try again had to be Rorie's.

Shaking off his melancholy, Lewis headed down to the lobby where his best friend, Miles, was waiting. The Vegas strip was awash with Formula 1 fever. Billboards flashed with images of drivers, including the debut of Lewis's own Fortnite skin. Rorie's Tommy Hilfiger campaign was also debuting this weekend, her face gracing billboards throughout the city.

Lewis had reluctantly attended the Almave pop-up earlier, putting on a brave face for the cameras despite his heavy heart. Now, he and Miles made their way to Delilah, the Art Deco-inspired supper club within the Wynn.

As they settled into their booth, Miles studied his friend's face. "How's Rorie doing?"

Lewis paused, his fingers tracing the rim of his water glass. "It's been tough," he admitted. "She's withdrawn, barely talking. I don't know how to reach her sometimes."

"And how are you holding up?" Miles pressed gently.

Lewis's composure cracked, tears welling in his eyes. "I'm trying to be strong for her, but man, it's hard. We wanted this so badly."

Miles reached across the table, squeezing Lewis's shoulder supportively as his friend wiped away tears.

As their meal progressed, Lewis opened up more about the pressures he was facing - the lawsuit, Rorie's father reaching out, and the potential move to Ferrari.

"He says he's going to be here this weekend, and wants to talk again," Lewis said, his voice tight with frustration. "I just… I don't know how to handle all of this."

Miles listened intently, offering words of support and gentle advice. "Have you thought about going back to therapy?" he suggested. "It sounds like you're carrying a lot, bro."

Lewis shook his head. "I can't right now. I need to be there for Rorie, for Lyric. They need me to be strong."

Miles leaned forward, his expression serious. "Lewis, listen to me. You can't pour from an empty cup. You need to take care of yourself too. Rorie would want that."

As they were leaving the restaurant, a familiar face caught Lewis's eye. Deja stood near the bar, her gaze locking onto him.

"Lewis," she called out, her voice carrying a mix of anger and hurt.

Lewis tensed, his bodyguards immediately alert. "Deja, I have nothing to say to you."

"Of course you don't," she scoffed. "But I have plenty to say. Like how you're letting Rorie play the victim when she's the one who stole you from me."

Lewis's brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"New Orleans, 2017. All-Star weekend," Deja spat. "We met at the club, danced, kissed. You promised me we'd be together! You said I was special!"

Lewis shook his head, genuinely perplexed. "I'm sorry, but I don't remember. I was partying a lot back then. If we did hook up, I apologize, but it was just that - a hookup."

Deja's face contorted with rage. "Just a hookup? You know what, Lewis? I'm glad I met with The Sun's PI. The truth is finally coming out, and I couldn't be happier. You think you can just use people and forget about them?"

"Deja, I—" Lewis started, but she cut him off.

"No, you listen! You ruined my life, and now I'm going to return the favor. You and that bitch Rorie deserve each other! I'm going to make your life miserable!"

Lewis's bodyguards stepped in, creating a barrier between them as the situation escalated. "We need to go, sir," one of them urged.

As they hustled Lewis and Miles out of the restaurant, Deja's angry shouts echoed behind them. "You're a liar, Lewis Hamilton! This is just the beginning!"

In the elevator, Lewis leaned against the wall, his jaw clenched. "I can't believe this," he muttered, then slammed his fist against the elevator wall. "Damn it!"

Miles watched his friend, concern etched on his face. "Talk to me, bro. What's going through your head?"

Lewis ran a hand over his face, frustration evident in every movement. "I'm trying to make sense of it all. All-Star weekend 2017... that was a year before I even met Rorie. Why is Deja so hung up on this?" He paced the small space of the elevator. "I mean, I partied a lot back then, sure. But promising someone we'd be together? That doesn't sound like me, even at my wildest. I'm trying to remember that weekend, but it's all a blur."

Miles shrugged his shoulders. "The bitch is crazy, bro. Don't try to rationalize delusion."

Lewis shook his head, still trying to piece together fragments of memories. "But what if there's some truth to it? What if I did something I don't remember?"

"Look," Miles said firmly, placing both hands on Lewis's shoulders to stop his pacing. "Even if something did happen - which I doubt - it was years ago. You weren't with Rorie then. You didn't do anything wrong."

The elevator dinged as they reached their floor. As the doors opened, Lewis took a deep breath, his mind still racing. "You're right. I just... I hate that this is happening now, with everything else going on."

Miles nodded sympathetically. "I know, man. But we'll figure this out. One step at a time, remember?"

"One step at a time."

As they stepped out into the hallway, Lewis felt a mix of emotions - anger at Deja's accusations, confusion about the past, and a deep longing for Rorie and the simplicity of being with his family.

-------------------------------------------------------

This was not his weekend. At all.

Lewis stared at his phone, scrolling through the TMZ article that had somehow materialized overnight. The drama with Deja at Delilah had made its way to the gossip mill, complete with blurry photos and sensationalized headlines.

His dad had left several texts and voicemails, rightfully upset about what had happened. Lewis sighed, knowing he'd have to deal with that conversation soon. But for now, he was grateful that there were no messages from Rorie. The last thing she needed was this added stress.

His Twitter notifications were exploding, a mix of support and criticism flooding his mentions:

@F1Fan2023: "Lewis, stay strong! We know the truth is on your side. #TeamLH" @GossipQueen88: "First the lawsuit, now this? What's really going on with Lewis Hamilton? 👀" @RacingEnthusiast: "Focus on the track, Lewis. Let your driving do the talking. #LasVegasGP"

As he made his way to the paddock, Lewis tried to push the social media noise out of his mind. He had a race to focus on, after all. The Las Vegas strip was alive with fans crowding the streets and celebrities flocking to the various events.

Just as Lewis thought he might be able to lose himself in the pre-race routines, he spotted a familiar figure approaching. Martin, Rorie's father, was making his way through the paddock.

"This motherfucker," Lewis muttered under his breath, bracing himself for the encounter.

"Lewis," Martin called out, his voice tentative but determined. "I need to talk to you about Rorie. She's not answering my calls again."

Lewis exhaled heavily. "Martin, now is really not a good time."

"I know about the lawsuit," Martin pressed on. "I want to help. I have resources—"

"It's not just that," Lewis cut him off, then paused. He shouldn't be saying this, but the words tumbled out anyway. "We've been trying to have another baby. We just got some tough news from our OB/GYN. Rorie's… she's struggling right now."

Martin's face fell. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?"

"Thanks, but no thanks," Lewis said, turning away.

"Lewis, wait," Martin called after him. "I know I've gone about this all wrong, but I genuinely want a relationship with Rorie and my grandson. Her half-siblings, they want to know her too."

Lewis paused, conflicting emotions battling within him. He understood the desire for family, but his priority was protecting Rorie and Lyric.

"Look, Martin," he said finally, turning back. "I hear you. But this has to be Rorie's decision. And right now, she needs space. Can you respect that?"

Martin nodded slowly, a mix of disappointment and understanding on his face. "I can. Just… tell her I'm here when she's ready?"

Lewis gave a curt nod before walking away, his mind already racing ahead to the challenges of the day. As he reached for his balaclava, his phone buzzed with a text from Julian in all caps:

CALL ME NOW.

Moving to the back of the garage for privacy, Lewis dialed Julian's number.

"Julian, what's going on?"

"Lewis, we've identified the inside source giving Deja information," Julian said, his voice tense. "It's Luisa."

"What the fuck, man?" Lewis exploded, lowering his voice as he glanced around. "This fucking weekend is cursed."

Shit, maybe I need to douse myself in holy water.

"It'll be okay, Lewis." Julian tried to calm him down. "I'm preparing to file a motion to have her arrested—"

"No, don't do that," Lewis cut in. "Luisa has two kids. We can't…"

"What do you want me to do then?" Julian asked, frustration evident in his voice. "This is serious, Lewis. She invaded your privacy."

Lewis took a deep breath. "I'll handle it after the race. For now, just… keep this under wraps, okay?"

As he ended the call, Lewis felt the weight of everything pressing down on him. Between the race, the media circus, and the family drama, this Vegas weekend was turning out to be more complicated than he could have ever imagined.

Lewis took a deep breath, trying to center himself amidst the chaos swirling around him. The garage buzzed with pre-race activity, mechanics fine-tuning the car, team members hurrying back and forth with last-minute adjustments.

He pulled on his balaclava, the familiar routine offering a small comfort. As he reached for his helmet, Toto approached, concern etched on his face.

"Lewis, are you alright?" Toto asked, his voice low. "I've heard about the... incident last night."

Lewis nodded, grateful for Toto's discretion. "I'm managing. Just focused on the race now."

Toto placed a supportive hand on Lewis's shoulder. "Remember, we're here for you. Whatever you need."

As Lewis made his way to the car, he caught sight of Fred Vasseur in the paddock. Their eyes met briefly, and Fred gave him a subtle nod of encouragement. The potential move to Ferrari suddenly felt like it belonged to a different lifetime.

Settling into the cockpit, Lewis allowed himself a moment of calm. The familiar smell of rubber and fuel, the snug fit of the seat – it all helped to ground him. Here, in this space, he was just a driver. No drama, no complications. Just him and the track.

The radio crackled to life. "Lewis, how are you feeling? Car okay?"

Bono's voice made the corners of Lewis' lips quirk into a small smile. Although the car was still shit, at least it was somewhat better than the current reality of his life.

"All good," Lewis responded, his voice steady. "Let's do this."

"Alright, mate, whenever you're ready."

He pulled out of the garage for the formation lap, revving his engine as his mind began to clear. The neon lights of Vegas, the drama with Deja, the situation with Luisa, even the heartache over the false pregnancy – it all faded into the background.

For now, there was only the race. The grip of the tires on asphalt and the thrill of pushing machine and man to their limits. As the lights went out and Lewis launched off the line, he felt a familiar surge of adrenaline.

Let's fucking go.

The crisp November air of Colorado bit at Rorie's cheeks as she stood on the balcony of their secluded home. The Rockies stretched out before her, their peaks already blanketed in snow, the evergreens dotting the landscape providing the only splashes of color against the white and gray backdrop. It was a view that usually brought her peace, but today, it felt more like a beautiful, wintry prison.

Lyric's laughter drifted from inside, where he was playing with Aaliyah. Rorie pulled her thick cardigan tighter around herself, grateful for her sister's presence; it provided a welcome distraction from the tumultuous thoughts swirling in her mind.

She glanced at her phone, notifications muted but the screen still lighting up periodically with incoming messages. The early sunset of late autumn had already painted the sky in deep purples and oranges. She knew she should check her messages, knew that Lewis was probably worried, but she couldn't bring herself to face the outside world just yet.

The news from Dr. Chen still felt raw, a constant ache in her chest. Each time she saw Lyric, bundled up in his winter clothes, a bittersweet mix of love and longing washed over her. He was growing so fast, and the thought that he might remain their only child brought a fresh wave of pain.

Rorie's eyes drifted to the mountain horizon again, where the first stars were beginning to appear in the clear, cold sky. She'd come here to find peace, to escape the pressure and drama that had been building back in L.A. But even here, in this beautiful winter sanctuary, she couldn't outrun her own thoughts.

Throughout the day, Rorie thought about her husband and his race in Vegas. When the final results came in, she felt a mix of emotions - pride in Lewis's efforts, but also disappointment at his P7 finish. Part of her felt guilty for not being there to support him, but another part was relieved to be away from the spotlight. The lawsuit, her biological father's attempts to reconnect, the constant scrutiny – it all felt overwhelming.

"Rorie?" Aaliyah's voice called from inside. "Lyric's asking for you. And it's getting cold out there!"

Taking a deep breath of the pine-scented air, Rorie turned from the view and headed back inside to the warmth of the house. As she scooped up her son, feeling his warmth through his soft sweater, she felt a small spark of hope ignite within her. Whatever challenges lay ahead, she had this – the love of her family, the strength she knew resided within her.

"Mama," Lyric babbled, patting her cheek.

"I'm here, baby," Rorie murmured, holding him close. "Mama's here."

She settled on the couch with Lyric, and Aaliyah joined them, draping a warm throw over their laps. Rorie allowed herself this moment of peace, surrounded by the love of her family and the quiet strength of the snow-covered mountains.

Rorie heard the soft murmur of voices from the kitchen. Her mother, Marian, and stepfather Greg were preparing dinner, the comforting aroma of homemade stew filling the air.

"How're you holding up, sweetie?" Aaliyah asked, settling beside them and tucking the throw around their legs.

Rorie sighed, bouncing Lyric gently on her knee. "I'm... managing. It's just a lot, you know?"

Aaliyah nodded sympathetically. "I can't even imagine. But we're all here for you, Ror. You know that, right?"

Before Rorie could respond, Marian entered the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Dinner's almost ready, girls. Rorie, honey, have you checked on Lewis?"

Rorie shook her head, a twinge of guilt passing through her. "Not yet, Mom. I just... I needed some time."

Marian sat down on the armchair across from them, her eyes filled with concern. "I understand, baby. But remember, you two are a team. Don't shut him out."

Greg appeared in the doorway, his tall frame filling the space. "Your mother's right, Rorie. And speaking of shutting people out, there were at least a dozen paparazzi camped outside our house this morning. Mrs. Weatherly said it's still a circus back there."

As much as she was nosy, Mrs. Weatherly, her parents' elderly neighbor, was still a good person and kept them updated about everything.

Rorie groaned, burying her face in Lyric's braids. "I'm so sorry you guys got dragged into this mess."

"Hey, none of that," Greg said firmly, moving to sit on the arm of Marian's chair. "We're family. Your battles are our battles."

"That's right," Marian added. "And we'll face them together, just like we always have."

Lyric, sensing the tension in the room, began to fuss. Rorie stood up, bouncing him gently. "Shh, it's okay, baby. Mama's got you."

As she paced the room, soothing Lyric, Aaliyah spoke up. "Have you thought about what you're going to do about... everything? The lawsuit, Martin trying to make contact..."

Rorie paused by the window, looking out at the snow-covered landscape. "Honestly? I don't know. It all feels so overwhelming sometimes."

"One step at a time, honey," Marian said softly. "You don't have to figure it all out at once."

Greg nodded in agreement. "And whatever you decide, we've got your back. All of us."

Rorie felt a lump form in her throat, touched by the unwavering support of her family. "Thanks, you guys. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Just then, the timer in the kitchen went off. "That'll be the cornbread," Greg said, standing up. "I'll go grab it."

As he left the room, Marian turned to Rorie. "Why don't you go freshen up before dinner? I'll take Lyric."

Rorie hesitated for a moment before handing Lyric over to her mother. As she headed upstairs, she paused at the landing, looking back at her family gathered in the living room. Despite everything, she felt a surge of gratitude.

In her room, Rorie finally picked up her phone. Several missed calls and messages from Lewis, all expressing love and concern. Taking a deep breath, she typed out a message:

I'm okay. We're okay. Call you later. Love you.

As she hit send, Rorie felt some of the weight lift from her shoulders. Rorie descended the stairs, and the rich aroma of Greg's famous cornbread filled the air, mingling with the hearty scent of the stew. The sound of Lyric's giggles echoed from the kitchen, bringing a small smile to her face.

She paused in the doorway, taking in the scene before her. Marian was at the stove, stirring the stew with one hand while balancing Lyric on her hip. Greg was carefully cutting the cornbread, while Aaliyah placed items in the dishwasher.

"There you are," Marian said, noticing Rorie. "Feel better?"

Rorie nodded, moving to take Lyric from her mother. "Yeah, I do. Thanks, Mom."

As they settled in the living room with bowls of steaming stew and plates of Greg's famous cornbread, Greg turned on the TV. The Broncos vs Vikings game was just starting.

"So, Aaliyah," Greg said between bites, "how's that new project at work going?"

As Aaliyah launched into a story about her latest architectural design, Rorie felt herself relaxing. The normalcy of family dinner and football was exactly what she needed.

Greg, ever the Eagles fan, watched the game intently despite neither team being his favorite. "You know," he said during a commercial break, "I'll watch any football game, but it's a bit more interesting now that Lewis is one of the Broncos' owners. Speaking of which, Rorie, does Lewis have any plans for trades? I've got some ideas..."

Rorie couldn't help but laugh, the first genuine chuckle she'd had in days. "Dad, you know Lewis doesn't really deal with trades and that kind of thing, right? But I'll be sure to pass along your suggestions."

Marian rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Greg, leave the poor man alone. I'm sure he's got enough on his plate without your armchair quarterback advice."

As they continued to eat and watch the game, Rorie felt a sense of normalcy wash over her. The warmth of the stew, the comfort of her family, and the familiar sounds of football commentary created a cocoon of safety, if only for a moment.

After dinner and the game, Rorie excused herself to put Lyric to bed. She carried him upstairs, and she could feel the weight of the day settling on her shoulders. In the nursery, she gently changed Lyric into his pajamas, humming softly as she did so.

"Time for sleep, my little love," she whispered, placing him in his crib. Lyric gazed up at her with heavy-lidded eyes, his tiny hand reaching out to grasp her finger.

As she tucked him in, she whispered, "Daddy did his best today, baby. We're always proud of him, aren't we?" Lyric mumbled something unintelligible in response, already drifting off to sleep. Rorie stood there for a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, finding a moment of peace in the simple act of motherhood.

With Lyric settled, Rorie retreated to her room, closing the door softly behind her. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her phone for a long moment before finally dialing Lewis's number. Her heart raced as it rang once, twice...

He picked up on the second ring. "Hey, babe," his voice was tired but warm, instantly soothing her frayed nerves.

"Hi," Rorie said softly, curling up against the headboard. "Tough race today, huh?"

Lewis sighed, and she could almost see him running a hand over his face as he often did when frustrated. "Yeah, not our best. The car just didn't have the pace we needed. Felt like I was fighting it the whole time."

"You did your best, though. That's what matters," Rorie assured him.

"Thanks, love. But that's not even the half of it. Rorie, I need to tell you something, and it's... well, it's not good."

Rorie felt her stomach tighten. "What is it?"

He proceeded to recount his encounter with Deja at Delilah, describing the heated exchange and her claims about their supposed history. Rorie listened, her free hand clenching the bedsheet as Lewis spoke.

"She was yelling about how we met in New Orleans during All-Star weekend in 2017, saying I promised her things. I swear, Rorie, I don't remember any of it. If something did happen, it was just a hookup, nothing more."

Rorie took a deep breath, trying to process this information. "I believe you, Lewis. But why is she doing this now? After all this time?"

"I don't know," Lewis admitted, frustration evident in his voice. "She seems convinced that you 'stole' me from her or something. It's crazy, Rorie. We hadn't even met in 2017."

Rorie's mind raced. "Do you think she's just looking for attention? Or is there more to it?"

"I wish I knew. But there's more, and this... this is going to be hard to hear."

Rorie braced herself. "What is it?"

"Julian called me today. He found out who's been leaking information to Deja."

"Who?" Rorie asked, dreading the answer.

"It's Luisa," Lewis said, his voice heavy.

Rorie gasped, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of her. "Our housekeeper? But why would she— How could she—"

"I don't know," Lewis cut in, his own voice tight with emotion. "I told Julian not to do anything drastic. We'll figure it out when I get back. I just can't believe someone we trusted would do this to us."

Rorie felt tears welling up in her eyes. "I trusted her with Lyric, Lewis. She's been in our home, with our son... Oh God, what if she—"

"Hey, hey," Lewis soothed, "Lyric is safe. He's there with you and your family. We'll sort this out, I promise. We'll make sure he stays safe."

Rorie nodded, even though Lewis couldn't see her, wiping away a stray tear. "You're right. He's safe. We're safe."

There was a pause before Lewis continued, "Oh, and there's one more thing. My parents are planning to come to Colorado. They want to be there for us, with everything that's going on."

Rorie felt a wave of emotion wash over her. "That's... that's really sweet of them. When are they coming?"

"They're trying to get flights for tomorrow. Is that okay? I know it's a lot with everything else..."

"No, it's perfect," Rorie said, surprising herself with how much she meant it. "I think having them here will help. Your mom always knows how to make things better."

Lewis chuckled softly. "That she does. How's Lyric doing?"

Rorie smiled, glancing at the baby monitor. "He's good. Missing his daddy, but good. He loved watching you race today. Kept pointing at the TV and saying 'Dada fast!'"

"I miss him too. Both of you. God, Rorie, I wish I was there with you right now."

"I know. Me too. But you'll be home soon, right?"

"Late tomorrow, I promise. Look, I know it's a lot to process. But we'll get through this together, okay? We always do. I love you, Rorie. You and Lyric are everything to me."

"We love you too," Rorie said, her voice thick with emotion. "Come home soon. We need you here."

"I will. Try to get some rest, okay? And Rorie?"

"Yeah?"

"We've got this. Together."

As they said their goodbyes, Rorie felt a mix of anxiety and determination. She lay back on the bed, her mind racing with everything Lewis had told her, but also feeling a glimmer of hope. Whatever came next, they would face it as a family. Rorie closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to calm herself. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, she allowed herself to find comfort in the love of her husband and the peace of knowing their son slept safely nearby.

KiKi sat in her car, parked a few blocks away from the trendy café where Deja was holding court with a group of her friends. Her fingers tapped restlessly against the steering wheel as she watched Deja through the tinted windows. It was supposed to be a casual surveillance, but the longer KiKi sat there, the more her frustration simmered.

Deja had been a thorn in Rorie’s side for too long, and KiKi had been watching her closely, waiting for the right moment to strike. She’d seen Deja run her mouth to anyone who would listen, stirring up more drama, and generally making Rorie’s life hell. KiKi’s loyalty to Rorie ran deep, and the thought of Deja continuing to cause problems made her blood boil.

When Rorie had told her not to beat Deja’s ass, KiKi had nodded, promising to stay cool. But Rorie hadn’t said anything about not finding someone else to do it, and KiKi had taken that as a green light. Enter her cousin’s boyfriend’s sister, Nyla. Nyla was a wild card, known for handling business in a way that left no room for misunderstandings. KiKi had mentioned Deja’s antics to her in passing, and Nyla had practically volunteered for the job on the spot.

As KiKi sat there, her phone buzzed with a new message. She glanced down at the screen and saw it was from Nyla, who was already on the move:

On my way. Got the address. Bitch won’t know what hit her.

KiKi smirked, feeling a sense of satisfaction. Nyla wasn’t one to play around, and KiKi trusted her to send a clear message. Deja had been playing with fire, and it was time she got burned.

KiKi’s gaze shifted back to Deja, who was laughing loudly, oblivious to the storm heading her way. The woman sitting next to KiKi in the passenger seat, a friend of Nyla’s named Tasha, shifted slightly, adjusting her oversized sunglasses as she leaned back against the seat. Tasha was cool and composed, her sharp eyes hidden behind the dark lenses. Her long braids were neatly pulled back, and she wore a leather jacket that matched her tough, no-nonsense demeanor. Tasha didn’t say much, but when she did, her words carried weight.

"She doesn’t look like much," Tasha remarked, her voice low and steady. "You sure this is the right one?"

KiKi glanced at Tasha, a hint of annoyance in her tone. "Yeah, that’s her. Don’t let the cute face fool you—she’s a snake."

Tasha nodded slowly, taking another look at Deja. "Good thing Nyla doesn’t care what she looks like. She’ll get the job done."

"Damn right," KiKi muttered, her eyes narrowing as Deja tossed her hair and flashed a bright smile at something one of her friends said. "Rorie’s been through enough, and I’m sick of this bitch thinking she can just do whatever she wants."

Tasha didn’t respond, but KiKi could feel her quiet agreement. There was a certain satisfaction in knowing that they were about to put an end to Deja’s antics, or at least slow her down. Rorie deserved peace, and if it took a little roughing up to get it, so be it.

KiKi’s phone buzzed again, this time with a simple message:

In position. Ready when you are.

KiKi grinned, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. She fired off a quick reply:

Wait for her to leave. Don’t make a scene.

"Time to move," KiKi said, sliding her phone back into her pocket and starting the car. "Nyla’s got this."

Tasha nodded, her expression unreadable behind the sunglasses. As they drove away, leaving Deja to her fate, KiKi felt a sense of grim satisfaction. She hadn’t laid a finger on Deja, just as Rorie had asked, but she’d made sure the message would be delivered loud and clear.

KiKi’s car rolled smoothly out of the parking spot as she and Tasha headed away from the café. The sense of satisfaction in her chest grew with each passing second. Deja had no idea what was coming, and that was exactly how KiKi wanted it. But as much as she enjoyed the thought of Deja getting what she deserved, there was still work to be done. Loose ends needed to be tied up, and KiKi wasn’t about to let anything trace back to her or, more importantly, Rorie.

She drove to a more secluded area on the outskirts of the city, where Nyla had said she’d meet her after handling business. The rain had picked up again, the rhythmic drumming on the car roof only adding to the tension in the air. After about fifteen minutes, KiKi pulled into an abandoned lot, the dim streetlights casting long shadows over the wet asphalt. Nyla’s car was already there, parked under a flickering light. KiKi parked next to her, and she and Tasha stepped out, the cool night air biting at their skin.

Nyla was leaning against her car, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket. Her expression was calm, almost bored, as if she’d just finished running an errand instead of beating someone up in a parking lot, but there was a hard edge in her eyes that KiKi didn’t miss.

"Is it done?" KiKi asked as she approached, her voice low.

Nyla pushed off the car and nodded. "Yeah. the bitch didn’t even see it coming. Got her right as she was about to get into her car. Didn’t take much—she folded quick."

KiKi’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. "Good. And no one saw you?"

Nyla shrugged. "Even if they did, they won’t talk. But nah, it was clean. Just me, her, and the rain. She’s probably still trying to figure out what hit her."

Tasha chuckled quietly, pulling off her sunglasses now that they were out of the public eye. "Serves her right. Think she’ll back off?"

"She better," KiKi muttered, glancing at Nyla. "But just in case, we need to make sure this doesn’t trace back to us. No loose ends."

Nyla gave a small, dismissive wave. "Don’t worry about that. I made sure she didn’t know who I was. And if she tries to go to the cops, it’ll just look like she got into some random altercation. Ain’t nobody gonna believe her."

KiKi nodded, but her mind was already working through the possibilities, the what-ifs. She wasn’t one to leave anything to chance. "We’ll need to lay low for a bit, just to be safe. If anyone asks, we were nowhere near that café today."

Nyla smirked. "You’re paranoid, but I get it. Don’t worry. I’ve got an alibi, and I’m sure you two do too. We’re good."

KiKi sighed, some of the tension easing from her shoulders. Nyla was right—they were careful, and Deja was too rattled to put the pieces together, especially with the warning Nyla had delivered. Still, KiKi wasn’t one to let her guard down easily.

"Alright," KiKi said, glancing between Nyla and Tasha. "We’ll stick to the plan. If anything comes up, we handle it, but for now, we wait and see how she reacts."

Nyla nodded, pushing her hands deeper into her pockets. "Cool. You know how to reach me if you need anything else. But trust me, she’s not gonna be a problem anymore."

KiKi offered a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Thanks, Nyla. I owe you one."

Nyla shrugged, already heading back to her car with Tasha in tow. "Just doing what needed to be done. Catch you later."

KiKi got back into her car. The drive back to her hotel was silent, the satisfaction of the evening’s events mingling with the ever-present undercurrent of caution. KiKi knew they’d sent a message, but she also knew the game wasn’t over. Deja might be down, but she wasn’t out—and KiKi would be ready if she ever tried to come back for more.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Promise You'll Call

Prompt: hi first i just want to say i love you writing so much. Do you think you could write something where luke finds out the reader’s significant other is harming them (mentally or physically)? I understand this is a rough topic but i was just going through a hard time with flashbacks. I understand if you can’t, thank you!

Word count: 7k (idk how this got to be so long)

Warnings: DV mention (in detail), blood tw

A/N: ayyyyooo, it's been forever since i've posted, but enjoy! i wanted to post, so i haven't proof read yet, so please excuse any grammatical mistakes, I'll go back and fix tomorrow :)

Luke honestly didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It just so happened that he was still in his truck, finishing up the burnt bagel he’d made in a rush this morning when you pulled into the parking garage. At first, Luke didn’t recognize that it was you in the black BMW that stopped in the middle of the garage, right behind his own truck. But when he peeked through his rearview mirror, he saw you sitting in the passenger seat, tucking a curtain of hair behind your ear. 

Luke’s stomach flipped, the same way it did every time he saw you. 

Except this time, he actually felt guilty for it, because he was pretty sure the guy driving the car was your boyfriend. Luke was new to the team in the last year, and while he’d done a pretty good job getting to know everyone at the BAU, he still hadn’t met partners or family yet. You were one of the few agents who never talked about your personal life at work. 

But even though Luke couldn’t see the man driving the car, as soon as you cracked open the passenger side door, he certainly heard him. 

Was it even considered eavesdropping if the entire parking garage could hear? 

“I’m not done talking!” The man’s voice echoed across the entire garage, causing Luke to straighten in his seat.  

“Will you lower your voice?” You snapped back in a hushed tone, before looking around the space, clearly embarrassed. 

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!”

“The whole city is going to hear you, Justin, please.”

“I don’t care if they do– get back in the fucking car!”

Something in Luke’s chest began boiling at the sound of his tone. Did he always speak to you that way? He fought back the urge to peel himself out of his truck. You were his coworker– not his girlfriend. It wasn’t his place to knock this guy down a few pegs, no matter how badly he wanted to. 

“I have nothing else to say to you right now–”

“Good, don’t talk. Fucking listen for once in your life!”

“You’re being ridiculous,” you said, voice eerily calm. It was like you were almost used to this kind of fighting– like you knew the exact steps to take to attempt de-escalating him. “I have to get to work. We’ll talk about this later.”

“If you shut that fucking door, you’re walking home. I swear to–” but the man’s voice was abruptly cut off by you shutting the door. 

Luke secretly felt proud as he watched you turn and walk away from the BMW without looking back. 

Suddenly, music blared through the speakers of the car before Luke heard tires squealing while the car drove away. Luke remained in place while he heard your footsteps fade into the distance, not wanting to embarrass you further or let you know he’d been heard the entire conversation that just played out. 

But while he gave you a moment to catch the elevator without him, Luke didn’t like the feeling that settled in his stomach. If your boyfriend acted like that in the middle of the bureaus parking garage, what the hell was he like behind closed doors?

…

You fought back tears for the entire elevator ride. Thank God no one got into the lift with you, so you at least had a moment of peace before having to pull everything together. 

Justin woke up mad– again. That had been a regular occurrence for the last year. And for the last month, he’d been convinced you were cheating on him. With zero evidence aside from a “hunch” he was apparently going on, there was no amount of convincing or location sharing or reminding him that your job came with sporadic hours that would change his mind. And things were getting worse. Each day it felt like he was angrier– more out of control. And each day you told yourself that you could handle it. You were literally trained on how to de-escalate murderers, for God’s sake. But this morning, when you woke up to not one, but four flat tires on the car you parked in the garage, you knew things were escalating again. 

As the elevator climbed, your phone suddenly pinged in your pocket. You pulled it out to read the text back from your mother. You’d reached out to her earlier, letting her know what you’d suspected– that Justin had slashed your tires so that you couldn’t take your own car to work. 

Mom: He wouldn’t do that. I know you are going through a rough patch, but Justin’s a good man. Did you reach out to that couple’s therapist I told you about?

You let out a sigh. 

Typical. 

Justin had worked at the local hospital with your father before he retired. As a world-wide renowned cardiovascular surgeon with a strong handshake and charismatic demeanor, he could do no wrong in your parent’s eyes. 

In the few instances you actually had reached out to them for support in the last year, the burden always fell back on you. What had you done to piss him off? What were you doing to mitigate the situation? You should have learned by now not to reach out to either one of them. You wouldn’t get the response you wanted. 

The elevator slowly climbed and you knew you had to pull it together. Deep breath in, deep breath out. You reached the fifth floor and stepped out of the elevator, trying to forget about everything that had just happened. 

Within an hour, a new case rolled in. You sat around the round table and listened to Emily give the rundown while Garcia clicked through slides of gruesome crime scenes she blatantly refused to even glimpse at . You tried to pay attention– to compartmentalize your home life like you had always been so good at doing. But as soon as you heard that the case was in Idaho– across the country, worry began creeping back inside of you. One of the biggest problems that Justin had was your constant travel for work. Although he was allowed to put in consistent, 16-hour days at the hospital, he got upset every time you told him where your next case was.

Which, honestly, you understood. When you took the job with the BAU, you never expected to have much of a life outside of it. You were gone more than you were home, and you knew that sort of lifestyle wasn’t for everyone. Except when you met him, Justin had known what you did for work. You didn’t lie or keep it a secret. He said he was okay with the traveling and the long hours. Until he wasn’t. 

Suddenly, there was a gentle tap on your shoulder. Every thought racing through your mind blew away and you refocused on the present moment. 

“Everything okay?” It was Luke asking. 

You looked around to realize that everyone else was packing up their belongings to board the jet. Turning to face Luke, you nodded. “Yeah, sorry. Just daydreaming, I guess.”

“Daydreaming with those crime scenes in the background?” he asked, nodding towards the gruesome picture still up on the screen. “You’ll have to teach me how to do that.”

You let out a breath of laughter. Luke hadn’t been on the team for long, but you realized within a few weeks of knowing him that he always knew how to make people laugh– no matter what was going on in the world around you. That was one of the many reasons he fit in so effortlessly with the team. 

“We can do a mindfulness class sometime,” you joked. 

He smiled, dimples popping from his dark, smooth skin. “I’d attend consistently.” 

Something fluttered in your stomach.

You just chalked it up to stress and nerves. 

…

Luke was supposed to be reviewing the case on the flight. Instead, he couldn’t stop watching you. Out of all the open seats, you chose one right across from him. You had the file open on your lap while your eyes scanned the page. Luke could tell you weren’t reading either, though, because the jet had already been airborne for almost half an hour and you hadn’t flipped the page. 

Meanwhile, Reid, who was to Luke’s right, had already read the entire file, front to back, probably three times by now. 

“Can you give me the Sparknotes version?” Luke leaned over and asked him.  

“What’s Sparknotes?” Reid asked, no hint of humor in his voice. 

Luke’s jaw fell open. “Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?”

“I don’t really think that intelligence can be measured or quantified in the way humans have tried to in the past. Technically I have an eidetic memory, which allows me to recall information with accurate precision. Meaning I’d actually have to see the information once to be able to recall it. I’ve never seen a Sparknote… or whatever you called it.”

A smirk spread across your lips, your eyes darting up to meet Luke’s. 

Luke shook his head in disbelief, offering you a small smile before turning back to Spencer. He’d been with the team nearly a year now and he still hadn’t gotten used to Reid’s demeanor. He wondered if he ever would. 

“You never had to Google the summary of a book when you were younger?”

Reid gave Luke a perplexed look. “Why would I do that if I have the book in front of me?”

“Because it’s faster.”

“I can read–”

“20 thousand words a minute,” Rossi interrupted as he walked by with an empty cup of coffee. “Yeah, we know, kid.”

He placed a free hand on Luke’s shoulder, patting it gently. “I have no idea what prompted this conversation, but trust me when I say it’s not worth it.”

Luke heard you stifle a laugh as Rossi walked past. 

…

You’d been on edge the entire plane ride. Justin never responded to your message, letting him know you’d be away for at least the next couple of days on a case. Maybe he was in the OR today, or maybe the hospital’s cell service was just spotty. 

Or maybe he really was just that mad at you. 

You knew the way he treated you was wrong. You recognized the red flags that had been staring you right in the face. But slashing your tires? Maybe your mom was right– maybe there was another explanation. Because no matter how much he yelled, or got in your face, or tried to intimidate you, you really didn’t think there was any way he could do that. 

You hated being this distracted while you worked. Emily was having to repeat instructions for you, JJ was throwing you worried glances, Spencer had asked three times now if you were okay… It was like you were the one being profiled in Idaho. 

Of course that wasn’t really the case, though. You were in Sun Valley because of a string of murdered women, each left dumped and discarded in ditches off the parkway. Each with ligature markings around their necks. Each with evidence of sexual assault. And each deserving of your undivided attention. 

You tried your best to give it to them. But in reality, when the case finally wrapped up six days after you’d arrived, you knew that everyone had picked up your slack. 

And while you were grateful to be part of a team that could pick up the slack of others, you hated that you had to utilize it. 

‘Unbelievable.’

That had been the only message you received from Justin the entire week you were away. You sent a practical novel back– trying to apologize and explain your side. Then you tried calling at least twice a day. But each time you went straight to his voicemail. Normally, space wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Except the jet was about to land back at Quantico, and you were terrified of what was next. 

Not to mention you had no ride home. 

“Hey,” a soothing voice suddenly said, stirring you from your thoughts. 

When you glanced up, you saw Luke gesturing towards the open seat across from you. 

“You mind? Everyone else is asleep.”

For a moment, you looked around the jet and noticed that Luke was right. Practically everyone was sprawled out or curled up against a window, passed out. You couldn’t blame them. It had been a rough case. If circumstances were different and you weren’t currently overthinking everything in your life, you’d probably be passed out too. 

Eventually you turned back to Luke and nodded. “You couldn't sleep?” You asked him. 

He shook his head. “Nah. I never sleep on planes. I think it’s a control-thing. I can never calm myself down enough to actually sleep.”

You frowned. “Now that you say that, I’ve never actually seen you sleep on the jet.”

“And you probably never will.” 

You grinned back. “Does that mean I’ll never get to know if Luke Alvez snores?”

“I’m afraid that information is classified,” he smirked. 

“Such a tease.”

Luke let out a low chuckle before casually leaning forward in his seat. “I did want to see if everything was okay, though.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, probably sounding too defensive. 

He shrugged. “I mean you just didn’t seem yourself this week. Not in a bad way or anything– just off.”

Shit. You knew it had been noticeable. But even still, the small part of you that was hoping it wasn’t deflated at Luke’s words. You actually debated telling him everything, which was so out of the norm for you lately. Ever since you and Justin had been having problems, you’d turned into a shell of who you used to be– you never hung out with Penn, Emily, or JJ anymore. You never had time for getting your ass kicked at chess on the jet with Reid, because you were too busy worrying if Justin was mad at you for leaving. You never joined everyone at Rossi’s evening dinners because you felt guilty for spending nights that you were home away from the house and Justin would never go with you. 

Suddenly, the harsh reality slapped you right in the face: You didn’t like who you were becoming. You didn’t like who you were when you were with Justin. The thought made you want to curl up and hide from the world– from Luke. But there was something about the way he looked at you– so earnest and intentional, like he was hanging onto every word, like he actually wanted to be someone you could trust, that felt prevented you from doing so. 

“You’re chewing on your lip,” Luke pointed out. “That’s how I always know when you’re overthinking.”

You relaxed your jaw instantly. That’s how he always knew? How often was Luke paying attention to your moods and mannerisms? The thought made something flutter in your stomach, but not in the anxious way it had been fluttering recently. This was softer– less scary. 

“Stupid profilers,” you muttered under your breath, desperate to break through whatever tension was boiling between the two of you. 

It was enough to earn a chuckle from Luke. “We are pretty annoying, aren’t we?” He sat back in his chair, cracking his knuckles casually. “You know, my last two girlfriends have broken up with me because of this job. One was serious– the last one, not so much. But still. They said it was too demanding– that I couldn’t make them a priority. I don’t know if you remember the Orlando case last fall. The one with–”

“The fourteen year old boy. We were too late to save him, but we got his sister,” you finished for him. “I remember.” Not only did you remember, but that very same case had been burned into your brain for months. 

Luke nodded. “Yeah. Well, when we got back from that case, that’s when she broke up with me. She said she was trying to deal with me being gone all the time. But if I couldn’t even be present when I was home, she was done. God, I had nightmares about that case for weeks– still do sometimes.” 

You gazed at him sympathetically. Unfortunately, his story wasn’t that out of the norm. Aside from you, everyone on the team in a relationship was already married. Once you had a solid, established relationship, most times it was doable. But the reality was, it was hard to date someone and be part of the BAU. 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. 

“Don’t be,” he waved you off. “They were right. I put my job first. And I’d like to think that the person I’m supposed to be with would understand how important this work is to me, even if each case takes a little piece from me.”

You thought about Justin– always criticizing, always making comments and remarks about how much you worked. You thought about the last few weeks and all the late nights you’d sat and done unnecessary paper at your desk just to avoid going home to him. 

“Or maybe you’d actually want to make the person you’re supposed to be with the priority,” you suggested softly without meeting Luke’s gaze.   

Luke had just been so vulnerable with you– telling you about his relationship problems like you were someone he could confide in. And the scary part was, you liked it. You liked being someone he came to with these types of things. You wished he’d do it more. 

Justin never confided in you– never let you confide in him, either. You stared intently down at your lap and wondered what it would feel like to have someone who would. 

“Justin and I– we’re having some issues.”

Finally, you dared to look up at Luke. His brown eyes looked black in the dimly lit jet, but they still glistened as he listened. “He’s just so mad at me,” you whispered, voice faltering. You’d barely said anything, but you could already feel all of the emotions you’d been masking and forcing down start to bubble towards the surface. “All the time. And I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know if I want to do anything about it.”

Luke leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees while he wound his fingers together. “I heard him when he dropped you off in the garage the other day,” Luke said honestly. Instantly, you felt heat rise to your cheeks. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I swear, I was just waiting in my car because I was early and well–”

You took a shaky breath, embarrassed beyond belief. “Anyone in the vicinity would have heard him that day.”

Luke’s voice lowered. “Does he always talk to you like that?” 

Yes, you thought. 

“No. That was just a bad morning.”

Luke nodded, but pursed his lips like he didn’t quite believe you. “I know it isn’t my place, but you don’t deserve that. I mean, fuck, no one does. But especially you.”

You smiled softly, trying to believe that he was right– that you didn’t deserve Justin’s harsh comments or anger. And on some level, you knew you didn’t. But another part of you always wondered why you didn’t try harder– why you didn’t care if he ended things or not. 

“Thanks Luke.” 

He nodded, leaning back once again. You gazed out the jet window, seeing familiar city lights in the distance. You’d be landing soon. And then it was back to whatever grim reality faced you at home.   

 “You don’t have your car today, do you?” Luke asked suddenly, stirring you from your thoughts. 

You shook your head. “Uh no. When I went to leave for work, my tires were flat.”

“All of them?” he asked, sounding shocked. 

“All of them.” 

“What’d you do, park in a pile of glass?”

“No, I think they were slashed.”

Luke’s eyes widened, a wave of concern washing over his face. “You don’t think–”

“I have no proof,” you said, knowing instantly what Luke was implying before he even said it. “But yes.”

“Jesus–”

You took a slow, steadying breath, doing your best not to fall apart in front of Luke. 

“I think your place is on my way home,” Luke said after a moment. “I can give you a ride.”

You looked up, instantly ready to decline the generous offer. Luke was good– too good. And you didn’t want to ruin whatever type of friendship was blossoming between you by being too needy right from the start. 

“Don’t even try to say no,” he spoke first. “Please let me give you a ride.”

By habit, you chewed on your lower lip. 

“Don’t overthink it,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t have offered if it was going to be an inconvenience.”

You felt guilty– you really couldn’t help it, and you weren’t used to accepting help from others. But something about Luke’s tone was so earnest, you believed him. He wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t expect you to say yes. After a moment, you nodded slowly. “Okay,” your head hung, gaze falling to your lap. “Thank you.”

The two of you spent the final minutes of the jet ride sitting quietly, gazes fixated out the window as the pilot landed you safely back in Quantico. When the lights flickered on, your other team members stirred in their seats with exhausted sighs and groans. You grabbed your go bag and followed closely behind Luke as he stepped off the plane. 

“Need anything inside?” he asked. 

You shook your head. “No, I’m good.”

With that, he adjusted the bag on his shoulder and veered towards the parking garage with you just strides behind him. 

Luke made small talk on the ride home. It was like he knew how nervous you were to see Justin and was trying to lighten the mood. You mostly just smiled and nodded in response, and felt grateful when Luke didn’t pressure you or point this out. Only when you got close enough to offer him instructions to your house did you actually utter any words. 

Then, before you knew it, Luke was putting his truck in park on the street near your house. You swallowed thickly as soon as you saw Justin’s car in the driveway and a single light still on in the house. 

The harsh reality was that you had no idea what to expect when you walked through those doors. But here… now… sitting in this truck with Luke, you felt safe. It was hard to leave that. 

But of course you had to. Luke couldn’t wait here all night. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you said softly, trying to conceal how shaky your voice sounded. 

“I don’t mean to overstep,” he said quickly. “But… I just– I mean, I don’t feel good about leaving you here.”

You shook your head quickly. Again, not wanting to feel like a burden. “I’m fine. It’ll be fine. He can be controlling and he gets angry– but he’d never hurt me or anything.”

Luke nodded, although the furrow in his brow told you he didn’t quite believe you. 

“You have my number. Promise me you’ll call if you need anything.”

You weren’t used to this kind of generosity. But before you could overthink things, you nodded earnestly, believing that you would actually call him if it came to that. If nothing else, Luke had proven how trustworthy he was in the last few hours alone. 

“Alright,” he nodded carefully as you slid out of the front seat of his truck, feet colliding with the pavement. 

“Thanks again,” you did your best to muster up a genuine smile. 

The corner of his lip tugged up slightly, but concern was still plastered over his face. “See you on Monday then.”

“Monday,” you agreed. 

With that, you closed the door– putting a literal wall between you and the only person who had made you feel safe in the last week. 

You turned towards your house, the knots in your stomach tightening with each passing moment. When you reached the front door, you turned one last time to see Luke leaned forward, eyes trained on you. Your chest softened when you realized he was waiting for you to get inside safely before driving off. Offering him one, final wave, you turned to unlock the front door. 

When you first stepped inside your house– everything looked normal. The light above the stove was on and the fridge hummed softly. You placed your duffel bag on the floor and stepped into the kitchen for some water. As you filled up a glass, you began to wonder if maybe you’d overreacted. Maybe Justin had been busy with work this week– just like you’d been. 

But your wishful thinking was short lived. 

Because the second you turned away from the faucet, you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sight of Justin– standing on the other side of the island counter. You hadn’t even heard him approach you. 

“Jesus, Justin–” you gasped, setting your glass of water down on the counter. “You scared me.”

Instead of replying, his eyes just narrowed. He looked angry– angrier than you’d ever seen him. An eerie chill crept down your spine, sending an eruption of goosebumps across your skin. 

“Where were you?” he asked, voice menacing and icy. 

“I told you– there was a case–”

His hands slammed down on the counter, causing you to take a step back as you jumped. 

“Don’t lie to me!” 

“I’m not lying–” you said quickly, trying to keep your own voice even. You knew how important it would be to remain calm. 

But despite your efforts, Justin swiped his hand across the counter, sending your cup of water colliding into the wall, where it shattered. 

You winced, unable to completely contain your shock. Because despite the yelling and the screaming, Justin had never done that before. Something inside of you told you that you had to leave… now– but you couldn’t react in time. Because before you could even turn your body to head towards the door, he was already turning the corner around the island, eliminating the only barrier between you and his violent outburst. 

“Where are you going, huh?” he challenged. “Gonna take off again?”

“I was at work, Justin– I told you that.”

He took another step closer to you, sending you a step backwards. Like a choreographed dance, you alternated steps until you heard the crunch of glass beneath your shoes. You’d reached the wall. You were cornered. 

Panic flooded through you. And suddenly, logic went out the window. You couldn’t think rationally– you couldn’t problem solve. Everything just went blank. 

“Who brought you home tonight, hm?” 

He was close enough that you could smell the alcohol melting off his breath. You lowered your head, trying to appear as submissive as you could– because what the hell else were you supposed to do?

“I saw the truck– the white one? Who the fuck was that?”

“Just someone from work,” you answered quickly. 

“Just someone from work, huh?” He took another step forward. There was practically no space between the two of you now. “Look at me when you talk.” 

You were trembling so hard, you couldn’t follow his commands as fast as he wanted. 

“I said–” he snapped harshly. Instantly, you felt fingers wrapping around your throat, forcing your head up. Justin’s hand squeezed, cutting air off. “Look at me when you talk.” 

His grip tightened. “Go ahead– say it. Tell me where you were.”

You opened your mouth, but you couldn’t even get air in your lungs, let alone formulate words. 

Justin’s eyebrow raised. For a moment, he actually looked like he was enjoying this. 

“No?” he asked. “Nothing? Are you finally done lying to me?”

You tried to inhale– but when nothing came, more panic settled in your stomach. You squirmed, needing air fast. Your hands raised to grab his forearm, desperate for him to let go. You tried to breathe again– but when air still didn’t come, you dug your nails into his skin without thinking– scratching him, hoping that would help. Except, you were so panicked, you had no concept of how hard you actually scratched him. Your nails broke through the skin– causing him to release your throat.  

“You bitch,” he hissed. Before you could even take a breath, you felt something collide with the side of your face, sending your head whipping to the side. 

Your head hung for a moment while your brain tried to comprehend what was happening. 

Justin had hit you– and there was currently something warm dripping down the side of your head. As you were hunched over, you felt something then collide with your stomach– hard. His knee maybe? You couldn’t tell–

“You let some man drive you home to my house!” he yelled, hand closing around your throat again. This time, he launched you backwards, whipping your head into the wall forcefully. “And then you come in and you fucking lie about it?” 

You grasped at his wrist– not scratching, but trying to get him to loosen his grip. You couldn’t breathe– no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t breathe. 

“Please,” you tried to say, but all that came out was a gasp. 

You attempted to look at him– hoping he could see how sincere you were being. But when you gazed up, your stomach just dropped. His eyes were menacing– black, empty. He looked like he could kill you right here and now and not care in the slightest. 

Justin’s grip tightened, you could feel each individual finger as it dug deeper into your skin, cutting off your airway– crushing your windpipe. 

You were going to die– You were going to die and there was nothing you could do to stop it. 

You dug your nails into his skin again, you flailed– you slapped with what energy you had left. But nothing was working. Your vision was blurring– dark edges starting to create a tunnel around the world. He was too strong– and you were going to die. 

Until suddenly, with no warning, Justin’s grip loosened. 

Instantly, you slid to the floor– coughing and choking as you gasped for air. 

You waited for whatever would come next– a kick to the ribs, something clattering over your head. But instead, you heard his footsteps retreating. 

You willed yourself to look up– through foggy vision clouded by tears, you saw Justin backing out of the kitchen, his eyes wide. 

“I-I–” he stammered. “I didn’t–” For a moment he paused, like he was frozen in place, before shaking his head. 

You were too focused on trying to breathe regularly again to make sense of the look of remorse seemingly on his face before he darted out of the room. 

Although he was out of your sight, you knew Justin couldn’t be far. And you knew that, despite the fact that you were sputtering and could barely breathe, you had to get out of that house. With what little strength you had left, you pushed yourself off the floor. Your back throbbed from being thrown against the wall, while a wave of dizziness overcame you. You all but staggered to where you’d dropped your bag earlier, doing a quick scan of the room before grabbing the strap and hauling it over your shoulder. 

You hurried to the front door, hand on the knob, when you paused. 

Where the hell were you supposed to go?

And then Luke’s words from earlier flashed through your mind. 

Promise me you’ll call if you need anything. 

You couldn’t– you thought. You’d already asked him for so much. But he did make you promise. And honestly, you couldn’t think of anyone in the world aside from him that you’d talk to about what had just happened. 

Suddenly, you heard movement from upstairs. 

You didn’t have time to toggle back and forth. You had to make a decision. 

Before you could second guess anything, you grabbed your phone from your pocket, pulled up Luke’s contact info, and hurried out the door. 

…

The second your name flashed across his screen, Luke knew he shouldn’t have left. Granted, he was only four minutes down the road– but he wished he had listened to his gut and just stayed. 

He slid his thumb across the screen. “Hello?”

He was met by an eerie silence.

“Hello?” he repeated. 

“Luke–” Your voice sounds so small– so choked up. “I’m sorry– I–” 

He waited a moment, hanging on to each word you spoke like it was a prayer. 

“Could you– maybe… could you come back? I’m so sorry– I–”

Luke was already turning his truck around before you could finish your choppy sentence. 

“I’m on my way,” he assured you. “Stay right there, okay?”

He was pretty sure he heard you agree before the line went dead. But regardless, Luke was back at your house in an instant. The second he put his truck in park, he was already undoing his seatbelt and launching himself out of the car. 

He had no idea what he was walking into– all he knew was that he had to get you out of there. What the hell could this asshole have said to you to have you so shaken up over the phone? 

He imagined knocking on the door– finding you tear streaked and trembling. It made his insides roar with anger before even seeing you. 

Except, when Luke turned the corner of his truck. He didn’t have to reach the front door to see you. He didn’t even have to walk across your lawn. Instead, you were hunched over on the curb, face buried in your hands while your whole body shook. 

Luke’s shoulders fell– your name tumbling from his lips as he approached you.

He had prepared for trembling– he had prepared for crying. But what he wasn’t prepared for, was seeing your face, bloodied and bruised when you looked up at him. 

He stopped dead in his tracks, everything inside of him turning to ice at the sight. 

“Where is he?” Luke managed to choke out. His voice sounded muffled and distant in his own ears. 

You let out a shaky breath before attempting to smile– like you were trying to somehow convince him that you were okay. The cut on your lip stretched as you did, making you wince. “Inside,” you whispered. 

He nodded once. As much as he didn’t want to leave you out here alone, Luke couldn’t help himself. 

“I’ll kill him,” he said through gritted teeth. And just like that, he was off– taking long strides towards the front door. He had no idea what your house looked like– no idea where he’d find that asshole lurking. All Luke knew was that he was going to pay for what he did to you. 

He had tunnel vision– the only thing in front of him was a blind, rageful desire to hurt that piece of shit as much as he had hurt you. He was narrowing in on the front door– just a few steps away… until he heard something break through the fog. 

It was you– your voice so soft and broken, calling out to him desperately. He turned around, blinders widening to see you standing on the lawn, chest heaving and tears falling down your cheeks quickly. 

“Please Luke–” you begged. “Please don’t. I want to leave. Please, can we leave?”

He paused, but only for a second before all of his anger melted away in an instant.  

He nodded, knowing right there– in that moment, that he would do absolutely anything for you at the drop of a hat. In a few quick steps, he was back at your side, hand hovering near your lower back just in case you needed extra support. 

“We can go,” he said gently, purposely keeping his voice as calm as he could. “Let’s get you in the truck.” 

After only a couple of steps, Luke noticed that you were limping. He felt a wave of tears burning behind his eyes. He was frustrated– angry. With your boyfriend, but mostly with himself. He knew he shouldn’t have left. He knew it in his gut. He should have been there– maybe if he’d stayed, he would’ve heard the yelling– he could’ve stepped in before things got this bad. 

“Can you get up, okay?” he asked as he opened the passenger door for you.

You nodded, reaching up for the handle bar. He watched as you winced– just the extension of your torso causing your breathing to increase. 

“You’re alright,” he said. “Let me help.” 

He made sure to wait for you to nod before he placed his hand against your lower back. Ever so gently, he supported your weight so that you could hoist yourself up into the front seat. 

“There you go,” he said, once you were safely tucked inside. He closed the door and turned to head to the driver’s side. Just as he did, he caught a flash of movement from the direction of your house. When he looked, he saw Justin standing on the front porch. Even from the road, Luke could see the tears glistening in his eyes. 

He felt the familiar anger from earlier resurfacing inside of him. It tightened in his chest– burned in his stomach. He envisioned himself crossing the lawn– grabbing Justin by the shirt collar– launching his fist right into his jaw. 

Luke inhaled deeply before looking back towards you. You were staring at him, crying again, your face riddled with fear. Because you knew exactly what he was imagining, and it made you afraid. 

Luke’s insides softened. 

No. 

He would not just be another man who scared you tonight. Luke wanted to be someone you felt safe with. 

Without looking back, he hurried along the front of his hood and climbed into his side of the truck. He put the truck in drive and calmly accelerated down the road– away from everything that had ever hurt you. 

…

It was only when you were in the safe confinement of Luke’s truck that you realized how bad you were shaking.  

The further you got from the house, the more the events from that evening sank into your brain. You’d seen this before with victims– once their adrenaline calmed down and they actually realized they were safe, fight or flight wasn’t protecting them anymore.

There was so much you wanted to say to Luke. But you could barely muster up the strength to breathe, let alone explain yourself. 

But you knew that you had to say something. You inhaled shakily and picked at the loose hangnail on your thumb. “Luke, I’m so sorry,” you said, breaking through the thick silence. 

He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from how hard he was holding on. He hadn’t said a word since you’d been on the road and you found yourself wondering what was going through his mind. Was he angry? Annoyed? Frustrated?   

Luke grimaced. “Please don’t apologize,” he said softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You bit your lip to keep any tears from spilling out– you’d cried enough in front of Luke for one day. “I just meant that I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

“You didn’t drag me into anything.”

Something in his tone just seemed so off– so curt. You desperately needed to make this right. 

“Is there a hotel or something on the way to your place? You don’t have to go out of your way– you can just drop me off, I don’t want to inconvenience you–”

Luke hit the breaks, his truck coming to a stop as he pulled over on the side of the road. After shifting the gear, he turned in his seat to look at you. 

“I’m not inconvenienced by you. And I’m not dropping you off at a hotel. You’re coming to my place, and I’m going to clean up your cuts, and then I’m going to make you dinner.”

“Luke–” you started to protest but he shook his head. 

“Please,” he said, voice cracking. “Please, let me do this– Otherwise… otherwise I won’t be able to forgive myself.”

Your brows furrowed. “Forgive yourself? What are you talking about?”

Luke shook his head, his dark mop of curls unruly after the long day. Slowly, he lifted his head and gazed out of the windshield, like he was deep in thought. 

“I knew something was wrong– I mean, I heard the way he spoke to you in the garage. After you told me he slashed your tires… I just knew. I knew something bad would happen when I dropped you off, but I tried to convince myself I was just being dramatic– or paranoid. But I knew– and I didn’t listen. I left you, and you got hurt. So please, let me make you dinner and give you a safe place to be tonight. It’s the least I can do.”

Your mouth hung open– whatever you thought was going on in Luke’s mind, it wasn’t that. Before you could think twice, you leaned forward in your seat and gathered his hand in yours. His warm skin touched yours– sending shockwaves through your entire body. 

“None of this was your fault,” you assured him. “In fact, you've shown me more kindness in the last few hours than I think Justin has shown me in the last year. I’m so grateful it was you who came and got me tonight, Luke.”

The words came out so easily– probably because of how true they were. 

His gaze flickered towards yours– eyes glistening with unshed tears. He spun his hand, so that your palms pressed against each other, before lacing your fingers together and squeezing gently. 

“You know I’ll never let him hurt you again, right?” he asked. 

His words sent chills down your spine. You did know, but you weren't sure if you were ready to admit that or not. So instead, you changed the subject.

"Are we almost to your house?"

Luke shrugged. "Not really- I'm closer to Stafford, probably thirty five minutes."

You frowned. "Stafford? That's the opposite direction. I thought you said my place was on your way home."

A smirk crept across Luke's face. "That might've been a tiny lie."

"Luke!" you exclaimed.

He let out a laugh. "What? I knew you wouldn't have gotten in the car otherwise. Am I wrong?"

You let out a huff of air, hating the fact that he was right.

As he put the truck in drive and continued down the road, you squeezed his hand back.

[vanteguccir]

matt/chris facetiming their gf every night when they aren’t together

no bc Chris is all I can think about with this concept 😭

do you know that call Peter and MJ do on Spider Man NWH before going to sleep? that's Chris and you!!!

every time he sees something that reminds him of you (a pretty sunset, a cute café, or even a funny sign) he makes sure to call you, whether by voice or video, to share the moment with you

he also can't stop talking about you to his Matt and Nick (and Justin), constantly telling them stories about you and how much he loves and misses you 😭

throughout the day, he would send you countless texts, sharing everything from what he's doing to random thoughts that pop into his head

at night, when he's getting ready for bed or already tucked in, he would always make a point to call you by video, which would last for hours as he yaps nonstop, sharing every detail of his day and listening to you talk about yours

even when you fall asleep during the call (bc you would FOR SURE, his voice is calming to you, and the sensation of having him there with you makes you black out) he feels a sense of super happiness and comfort just knowing you're there too

he keeps the call going, falling asleep himself with the sound of your soft breathing on the other end, and waking up to the sight of you still on the screen, even if you're not awake yet, makes him feel giddy and ready to take on another day away from you, counting the days until he's finally back to you!!

[laurenairay]

Halloween pranks - S. Jarvis

Summary: helping Seth Jarvis pull off a jump scare prank on the team was worth more than you could ever imagine.

The first of my Autumn & Halloween blurbs! There was no-one else I wanted to write this one for either – Jarvy was perfect. Inspired by the Justin Williams scare prank of 2018.

Word Count: 1.1k words

Tagging: @starshine-hockey-girl, @misshoneyimhome, @lam-ila, @kurlyteuvo, @tonyspep

@cixrosie

~

“Are the cameras all set up?”

“Yes Jarvy.”

“And no-one’s let anything slip?”

“No Jarvy.”

“This isn’t going to be a stupid failure?”

You smiled fondly at the man standing next to you, and shook your head. “No, it’s going to go well, I promise.”

“Are you sure?”

The hesitance in his voice made you look at him properly, and your heart broke a little at the uncertainty in his face. It felt so unnatural on someone like Seth, who was usually so full of confidence and charisma, and the last thing you wanted was for him to feel this way when he’d put in so much effort.

Right at the beginning of the season, on media day, Seth had asked the social media team if he could do a jump scare prank on the team for Halloween. As the new intern, it had fallen to you to help him plan and co-ordinate, and you’d felt yourself growing inexplicably fond of the cheerful ball of energy. Today was going to be a hit, not just for the team but also for your place on it, but the most important thing was that Seth had fun. That’s all your truly wanted.

So for him to be doubting himself like this? You couldn’t stand it.

“I feel it in my bones, Jarvy. Really. This is going to be so much fun,” you said, as reassuring as you could.

He let out a shaky breath but nodded, your words seeming to steel him.

“Yeah, you’re right. We’ve put in way too much hard work planning this for it not to go well. Right? Yeah, it will. I can’t wait to see the guys’ faces.”

“That’s the spirit,” you grinned.

The way he grinned back at you made your stomach fill with traitorous butterflies, and it was all you could do to look away to compose yourself. You missed the way he grinned widened ever so slightly.

“Heads up, Aho and Teräväinen have just pulled in!”

Oh damn, go time.

“Ready?” you asked.

“Let’s do this,” Seth nodded, eyes glittering with mischief.

You walked over to your hiding spot behind a 7ft banner tucked into a corner, ipad open to the feeds from all the cameras you’d set up and clicked record. Seth looked over to you for confirmation and you gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up. He just cackled and picked up the rubber clown mask he’d chosen to wear, pulling it over his head, and grabbed the fake chainsaw he’d somehow procured, and carefully climbed into the laundry basket you’d placed in the players entrance lobby.

The cameras would capture three different angles, and you could only hope for the golden content that this would hopefully produce for your first big assignment on the team. You tried to control your smile at the sound of footsteps, taking a quick glance down at the ipad for confirmation before looking back up properly to watch the prank unfold.

It was go time.

Sebastian and Teuvo came strolling in, calm as anything, and it wasn’t until they were right next to the laundry basket that Seth jumped up with an unholy roar, waving the plastic chainsaw in the air. Both of his teammates shrieked louder than you ever thought possible, Seth immediately cracking up and leaning backwards against the wall.

“You’re a dead man Jarvy!”

Of course they knew it was him. Who else would it be?

“That was so good right? Did we get everything?”

You popped your head out from behind the banner hiding you, waving at Sebastian and Teuvo, who just groaned as you nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah it was perfect, Jarvy. You were great.”

“Fuck yeah!”

You just giggled as his enthusiasm, glancing down at your ipad to wait for more cars to pull in.

KK and Neci were next – both Jesperi and Martin jumped, Martin almost losing his coffee and Jesperi dropping his phone.

After that came Svech and Pyotr – Andrei shouted and stumbled right into Pyotr, nearly knocking him over, a chorus of curse words coming from both of them.

Staalsy was next – you almost felt bad when Jordan tripped over his own feet and had to brace himself on the wall, but Seth’s delighted laughter was worth it.

Finally, with just enough time before Seth needed to head to practice himself, Freddie walked in. And as Seth jumped up with the loudest roar of all, the goalie didn’t even flinch. He just kept walking in a straight line past Seth like he wasn’t even there, making Seth burst out in laughter as he took his mask off.

“Goalies, man. Can’t get them all,” he grinned.

What a perfect ending. You stopped the recording on your ipad, making sure the video files were stored, before walking out from your hiding place. The grin on Seth’s face was worth the ache in your feet from standing still in one spot for so long, and he eagerly jogged over to your side.

“That was so much fun! Thank you!”

He threw his arms around you in a hug before you could respond, making you squeal with laughter as he spun you round in a circle.

“You’re welcome, you mad man,” you giggled when he set you back on your feet.

“How long will it take you to edit all the footage, do you think?” he asked, grinning.

“Hm, maybe a week? And then I have to get my boss to approve it all, make sure I’ve got all the stuff in it that I need to, including that little intro clip we filmed the other day, and then it’s just got to wait until Halloween week to go out on socials,” you explained.

“Can you send me the links as soon as they go out?”

“What?”

“Like, if I give you my phone number, can you send them to me?” he asked hopefully.

He wanted your phone number?

No, it was for work, purely professional.

“Of course, here, let me…”

You dug your phone out of your back pocket and opened up the new contact page, passing it over to Seth. He quickly typed in his number before handing the phone back, and you couldn’t help but smile at the hockey stick emoji and clown emoji he put next to his name. As if you wouldn’t know who he was in your phone.

“And, you know, if you have anything else you need my help with then you can text me too. For socials,” he said, rushing the last two words.

There was a shyness in his tone that took you by surprise.

Oh.

Oh.

“If you have any other ideas you want to run past me, then you can text me too. You know, for socials,” you said, smiling innocently.

He looked a little stunned for a second before his hopeful smile slid into something a little sharper.

“I’m sure I can work something out.”

Be still your beating heart.

“Talk to you later?” you grinned.

“Count on it.”

[jennaispunk]

Someone Like You

Summary: A vacation you didn’t want to take turns into something you never expected.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.3 k

Tags/Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, allusions to smut, shitty ex-boyfriend (not Marcus), brief mention of infidelity (again, not Marcus. He would never), meet cute, instant attraction, Marcus being Marcus (aka perfect), reader is shorter than Marcus and has hair that can be tucked behind her ear but no physical description is given

A/N: I wrote this for @whocaresstillthelouvre follower challenge (I hope you enjoy this Mallory!!). The moodboard was dream vacation with Marcus. This moodboard is gorgeous and I am so in love with it. I’m sorry I held onto this for so long. I went at the idea of a “dream vacation” a little differently. This was the idea that immediately came to mind when I saw this moodboard. This is for all my Marcus girlies (gn). Marcus deserved so much better and this is my (lame) attempt at a fix-it fic for Marcus. Thank you @clawdee for the beta read. The title is taken from a Van Morrison song.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

You didn’t even want to go on this stupid trip. You’d planned it with Justin, and it was supposed to be a romantic getaway…until you caught him in bed with his ex-girlfriend, the one he called crazy and told you he wasn’t talking to anymore.

Your friends had convinced you to go on the trip anyway. "Fuck him!" they said. "Go on this trip and have the time of your life." Since the trip was paid for already, and you couldn’t get a refund, you reluctantly packed your bags.

The plane ride to Miami was peaceful. The older married couple sitting next to you was celebrating their 45th wedding anniversary. They showed you pictures of their grandkids, and you smiled politely. They were the goal…one that was looking increasingly out of reach.

You dropped your bags in your hotel room with a loud thud. You fell onto the bed and let yourself sink into the soft comforter. The sun shone brightly into the room, warming your skin, and you slipped into a peaceful afternoon nap.

Most of that night was spent sitting on the balcony listening to the ocean crash against the shore and feeling sorry for yourself. How did you not see the signs that Justin was cheating on you? They were there, you just chose not to see them. Every time that little voice in the back your mind started to chirp, you ignored it and told yourself it was just your insecurities. Looking back now, you should have listened. Hindsight is always 20/20.

You woke up the next morning with a renewed determination. You were done thinking about the past, it was time to live in the present. Today was going to be different. Today, you were going to go the beach and soak up all the glorious South Florida sun you could handle. You were going to let the ocean breeze carry all your worries away. This vacation was meant to be enjoyed and that’s exactly what you were going to do.

In your cutest bikini (bought specifically for this trip) and cover-up, you confidently strolled across the hotel lobby. It might be considered modest by Miami standards, but it showed off your assets. A small smile played on your lips as you remembered how sexy you felt the first time you put on the hot pink fabric. All around you were happy couples, holding hands and stealing kisses. Your resolve to not wallow in your sadness faltered just a bit as you made your way to the door, but you held your chin higher. You weren’t going to think about Justin anymore.

“Excuse me…”

You jumped as someone touched your shoulder and wheeled around to see a handsome man looking down at you. If you had to guess, he looked to be around your age. The style of his chestnut brown hair screamed young professional, and his mocha eyes were the kind you could get lost in.

“I think you dropped this.”

His large hand held a hotel key card toward you between thick fingers. Your brow furrowed and you patted the pockets of your cover up only to realize that your room key was missing.

You smiled at him and the heat rushed to your cheeks. Your carelessness struck again. How did you not realize you dropped your key?

“Thanks. It was sweet of you to track me down.”

The smile he shot back at you almost made you melt. It was so genuine, and the way the corners of his eyes wrinkled made you weak in the knees. Your eyes darted over his shoulder, half expecting his wife or girlfriend to be standing behind him, waiting. He was alone, and you smiled just a bit wider.

“It’s no problem.” His soft voice carried to your ears like a sweet melody. “You’re probably going to need this later.”

Your soft laugh was met with a nervous chuckle of his own. His soulful eyes studied you like a work of art but somehow it didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. He wasn’t looking at you like other men do.

“I’m sorry, where are my manners? I’m Marcus.”

He extended a hand toward you, and you froze for a moment. You couldn’t even remember the last time a man introduced himself to you this way outside of a professional setting, and you found yourself intrigued by this stranger.

You offered your name in return and placed your hand in his. His skin was rougher than his appearance suggested, and the warmth radiated right through you.

“So, Marcus, does your wife or girlfriend know that you go around saving strange women from being locked out of their hotel rooms in your spare time?”

His laugh came from his belly, like you told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. It was warm and genuine. Suddenly, you had butterflies in your stomach.

“Actually, I’m not married or even seeing anyone right now.”

Your brow raised and those butterflies intensified. How in the world was this man still single?

Stop! This isn’t what you were here for. The last thing you needed was to get mixed up with anyone while you were here. The purpose of this trip was to stop thinking about your ex, not lust after a handsome stranger.

“Well, there’s a beach chair out there calling my name.” Your eyes darted toward the door and then back to him.

“It was nice to meet you, Marcus. Enjoy your vacation.”

You turned to leave without giving him a chance to respond. It was better to walk away now, before you did something you’d regret later.

Marcus watched you walk away, rubbing his chin as he huffed softly. He certainly hadn’t expected to meet anyone on this trip, but maybe it was fate.

You told yourself that you’d never see Marcus again, that it was just a fluke meeting, a fleeting moment in time that was never meant to be anything. You didn’t believe in fate or destiny. That was for other people.

It seemed that fate was trying to prove its very existence to you, because the very next morning at breakfast you ran into Marcus once again.

“How was the beach?” Marcus asked with that heart stopping smile. “You didn’t get sunburned, did you?”

Your cheeks felt warm as he looked you over. How could such a simple question get you flustered?

“Nope. I got the perfect amount of sun.”

The two of you chatted for a few minutes before your phone buzzed in your pocket.

“Sorry, but I gotta go or I’ll be late for my massage.”

His hand jutted out to stop you as you turned to leave.

“This is going to sound crazy, but would you have dinner with me tonight? There’s this amazing restaurant overlooking Biscayne Bay.”

You bit your bottom lip as you considered his proposal. What would be the harm in having dinner with him? Why shouldn’t you have fun while you’re here? You needed a distraction and Marcus certainly fit the bill.

“Dinner sounds nice.”

His body visibly relaxed when you agreed, and you could have sworn you heard him sigh.

“Great. I’ll meet you in the lobby at seven?”

“Seven it is.” You responded and headed off to your massage.

That was the moment that everything changed, although you didn’t know it at the time. You’d spent every night with Marcus since then and the more you learned about him, the harder you fell for him. The two of you lived closer than you thought, he was in DC and you were in Baltimore. You scoffed when he told you that he was an FBI agent with the art theft division, but he showed you his badge and swore you to secrecy under penalty of death. He winked and laughed, and you were sure he’d stolen your heart then and there.

He was here on a case and decided to stay an extra week to use up his vacation time. He was a total foodie, he talked at length about the amazing restaurants in DC. Every detail you learned about each other just made the attraction grow.

The week practically flew by as your time was occupied by Marcus. He took you to the institute of Contemporary Art and Pérez Art Museum and watched you with a smile as you marveled at the art, and he explained the finer details. The way he spoke about the art had you completely captivated.

On your second to last night in Miami, he took you to a bar with a live band. You couldn’t believe your eyes when he jumped up on stage with the band and they played one of your favorite songs.

You couldn’t stop smiling as you watched him on stage. The image before you didn’t jive with the mild-mannered, soft-spoken man you’d spent the last few days with, but it intrigued you all the more.

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

The smile was still plastered to your face. He looked so carefree up there on the stage.

“It was definitely worth it to see you smile like that, Sunny.”

He wasn’t going to tell you that he’d cashed in a favor from the lead singer. He wanted you to think it was totally random.

After leaving the club, he took you for a moonlight walk on the beach. The night sky was crystal clear. A thousand stars dotted the sky, like a painting created for just the two of you.

During a brief moment of silence between you, he took your hand and laced your fingers together. It all felt so perfect, too good to be true. You never thought that you would meet someone like him.

He suddenly stopped walking and tugged your hand. His heart hammered in his chest as he looked down at you. After everything that happened with Teresa, he wasn’t looking for anyone. She had broken his heart, and he wasn’t sure if he was even ready to try again. Looking at you now, with the ocean breeze in your hair and the moonlight illuminating your skin, he knew he couldn’t walk away.

“Everything okay?” You asked

He smiled at you and looked down at the sand before looking back up.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do all week.”

Before you could say anything, he closed the distance between you and gently cupped your cheek. He gazed into your eyes, almost hesitant before he leaned in and softly pressed his lips to yours.

You tensed for the briefest of moments, you didn’t expect him to kiss you, but you were glad he did. You kissed him back, slightly parting your lips to let his tongue in your mouth. It couldn’t have been any more romantic: the moonlight, the soft swish of the waves upon the shore, and the most perfect man you’d ever met holding you in his arms.

As you packed your suitcase to head to the airport, you couldn’t help but think about the last few nights. You got lost in the memories of the way he made you come on his fingers before he made you come on his cock, how he intertwined his fingers with yours as he pinned your hands to the mattress, the way he talked you through your second orgasm: That’s it, sweet girl…just like that…so beautiful. He even held you afterwards, something Justin never did.

It really was like a dream come true. This vacation was wonderfully unexpected, and you didn’t want it to end. You didn’t want to go back to the real world, back to your job and your old life….not when you’ve had a taste of what could be.

Marcus paced the hotel lobby waiting for you to check out. After Theresa, he’d almost sworn off love completely, then he’d met you and he was smitten. He knew that this could work, he would be kicking himself later if he didn’t try.

You smiled as his sweet face came into view. Your heart clenched in your chest. Was this this last time you would see him? You couldn’t let that happen. This couldn’t be the end.

“This week turned out better than I expected.” you said with a soft laugh.

You wanted to say more. You wanted to tell him that this had probably been the best week of your life, but you held your tongue. You didn’t want to ruin the moment.

He took your hands in his, smiling as caressed the back your hand with his thumb. His mocha eyes took in every inch of you, committing it to memory until he saw you again. It was now or never. He was going to tell you that he didn’t want this to be the end, the two of you could make this work. A short train ride was no big deal, and you could see each other often. All he knew was that he couldn’t just let you go.

The way he said your name made your heart stop. It sounded so beautiful rolling off his tongue, just like when he had you in bed.

Your lips pressed softly against his, swallowing his next words. You didn’t need anymore words. You just wanted to keep the magic alive for a few more moments before reality came crashing down.

The hum of the car engine behind you broke the spell. It was over, your Uber was waiting to take you to the airport and back to your life. You shoved a piece of paper into his hand and smiled as your eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

“If you’re ever in Baltimore, give me a call.”

He chuckled softly as he watched you walk away and get into your ride. As you drove away, he looked down at the small piece of paper in his palm. There was no way in hell he was going to let you get away. He’d be calling you sooner than you thought.