#that look up at Nate in the last gif

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

"Nate, look, if there's nothing embarrassing for him to find on you, it makes you look like you're not for real."

Leverage S04E03 The 15 Minute Job.

[kinascum]

TAG! - M. STURNIOLO

SYNOPSIS: What happens when your brother's best friend pushes your boundaries in a thrilling encounter?

CONTENTS: nls!reader, explicit sexual content, strong language, power dynamics, degradation, chasing? primal? idk, no actual piv, oral (male), semi-public, humiliation.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

pt2 (chris)

You sit around the kitchen table of the cozy cabin, the glow of the moonlight spilling in through the windows, casting shadows across the well-worn Monopoly board. The laughter and banter of the evening's game slowly die down as the last few hotel properties are snatched up, and the bank is declared bankrupt. Your brother Nate, and his best friends, grin at each other, the competitive spirit still lingering in the air. It's late, and the yawns start to take over, signaling the end of the night.

The cabin's wooden floorboards creak as everyone heads to their designated sleeping areas. The fireplace crackles, casting a warm, flickering light across the room. You settle into your bed, but the excitement of the day keeps sleep at bay. The rustling of blankets and muffled snores from your brother's room reminds you that you're not the only one who remains restless.

The whispers of the night beckon you and you find yourself tiptoeing to the bedroom door. You peek into the hallway, noticing a sliver of light seeping out from under Matt's door. Curiosity piqued, you ease the door open to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, staring at the floor. "Can't sleep either?" he asks, looking up and catching your gaze.

"Yeah, it's like my brain won't shut up," you admit, stepping into the room. "Wanna go outside for some fresh air?"

Matt nods, a glint in his eye. "How about we play a game to pass the time?"

Intrigued, you follow him out into the cool night, the crunch of gravel underfoot. The moon casts a silver path down to the lake, where the water laps gently against the shore. The air is alive with the scent of pine and the distant sound of an owl's hoot.

"Okay, I'll chase you," he says with a smirk, "and if I catch you, I win."

You laugh, thinking it's just a way to burn off some energy. "What do I get if I win?"

"We'll see," he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ready or not, here I come!"

And with that, he's off, his sneakers pounding the ground as he sprints towards you. You squeal, the thrill of the chase igniting your senses. As you dart away from him, the night air feels alive with electricity, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the kind of thrill you live for, the kind that makes you feel alive.

The game starts innocently enough, the two of you weg through the trees, laughing and panting. But as the minutes tick by, the adrenaline turns into something else. Something you've felt simmering between you for a while now, something you've been too scared to acknowledge. The wind carries the scent of him, a tantalizing mix of aftershave and pure masculine energy. Your skin tingles with anticipation, and you start to feel the heat building deep within you.

Matt's breath is hot on your neck as he catches up, his strong hands grabbing you around the waist. You gasp, feeling his solid body pressed against yours, the game turning into something much more primal. You can feel the heat of his body overcome yours, and it sends a shockwave through your core. This isn't just a game anymore; it's a dance of desire that you're both eager to explore.

He whispers in your ear, his voice thick with lust, "I win."

With a firm grip, he spins you around and pushes you to your knees. You look up at him, a mix of fear and excitement swirling in your eyes. He's serious. The gravity of the moment hits you like a ton of bricks, but you don't resist. You want this. You've wanted this for a long time.

He unbuckles his belt, the metal clinking in the stillness of the night, and unzips his pants, pulling out his hard cock. "You know how this goes," he murmurs, stroking himself, watching you with a hungry gaze. "You're gonna let me use that pretty little throat?"

Your heart races as you lean in, your mouth watering despite the fear. You wrap your lips around him, and he groans, his hand tangling in your hair. He's not gentle, pushing deeper into your mouth, his grip tightening with every moan. The taste of him fills your senses, a mix of salt and earth, and you can't help but feel a twinge of excitement. This isn't how you thought this night would go, but the way he's looking at you, the way he's holding you, it's like he's claiming you, and it turns you on more than you ever thought possible.

You try to keep up, but he's too much for you. You gag, and he laughs, a dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "Look at you," he says, "such a good little slut, take it." Spit trails down your chin, and your eyes water, but you don't stop. You can't. The thrill of it all is too intense.

"I bet Nate never knew what a whore you are," he murmurs, his voice low aging. "Letting me fuck your mouth out here like some cheap hooker." His words are like a slap in the face, but they only serve to make you wetter. Your eyes narrow as your brows chisel in, but you're his, and you're letting him do this to you. It's a power play, and you're both acutely aware of it.

"Oh, you're mad?" He laughs. The sound of branches underfoot in the distance makes your heart leap. "Better hurry up," he says, his eyes glinting with excitement, "or Chris might find you like this and want a taste" The thought sends a jolt of fear and arousal through you. "Oh, but you'd love that, being used by both your brother's best friends?" Your mind races. What would Nate think if he found you like this? What would Nick do? The possibility of getting caught only adds to the thrill.

Matt's hand moves to your chin, holding it in a firm grip as he fucks your mouth harder, faster. "Take it, baby," he growls, his hips bucking against your face. "You like it, huh?" You nod, unable to speak with his cock lodged in your throat, you mumble around his shaft. You do love it. The degradation, the power he has over you in this moment, it's intoxicating.

Finally, with a grunt, he pulls out, coming all over your face and chest. You collapse back onto the ground, gasping for air, your heart racing and your eyes like storms behind shed tears. He wipes his dick off your shirt, smiling down at you like he's just conquered the world. "You've always been mine, don’t get mad now," he says, his voice full of satisfaction. He leans down, his hand on your jaw suddenly pulls away and the sing on your face is accompanied by the hot spit thrown at you. "Mine to use whenever I want."

The night air is thick with the scent of sex and sweat, and you can't help but feel a little bit used. But you don't care. You're his, and that's all that matters. The tension between you is palpable, the line between friendship and something darker is now irrevocably blurred. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, tasting him on your lips, and wonder if this is the start of something new.

As you both catch your breath, the sound of footsteps grows louder. Panic flares in your chest. "we have to get back." You stumble to your feet, your legs wobbly from the intense experience. Matt chuckles, tucking himself back into his pants.

Together, you sneak back towards the cabin, your heart pounding in your ears. As you enter the cabin, you see the light from Nate's room is now off. Did he hear you? Did he know what was happening outside?

You slip into your bed, your body still humming with desire, your mind racing with thoughts of what's to come. The lines between friendship and lust have been crossed, and there's no going back.

tags! @sturnstvs @gxldenlush @immattsslut @slut4chriss @stasiesturn @jetaimevous @solarsturniolo @watercolorskyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @meowira @secretagentspy @shadowthesim @baileysturns

love, paz<3

[kissyrafe]

nye party blurb i forgot to post... whoops!

cw: smut, fem!reader, rough sex, teasing, spit play, unprotected p in v sex, both are under the influence so.. non-con..? i was watching euphoria and took inspo from nate 'n cassie in s2e1, (not proofread!!!)

you sat on the curb of a gas station, eating a donut as you self-wallowed on new year's eve, terrific. you stared at the ground, thinking of how the fuck you were going to get home when a pair of shoes appeared next to you. "'sup y/n," a deep male voice said, a familiar one. you look up at them with a frown as rafe nods his head, handing you an already opened beer. "need somethin' to wash that down?" you extend your hand, grabbing the bottle. you hold it up to your face, trying to examine it, though it was difficult considering you were already wasted. one more drink wouldn't hurt. "hi, thanks." your voice is muffled by the food in your mouth as you take a sip from the bottle, swallowing the remnants of your snack. "what are you doin' tonight?" rafe asked casually, but you stare at him questioningly for a second, sensing that he wanted something. you and rafe cameron do not 'casually talk'. matter of fact, you don't even remember the last time he even looked at you. so for him to now be offering you beer and asking questions, this was weird. "i was s'posed to go to this party with my friend, but we got into this big fight." you let out a quiet sigh, your eyes wandering at the damp ground again. "so now i'm here." rafe studied you. he saw your drunk and forlorn behavior and he knew he couldn't just leave you here. he clenched his jaw, digging into the pocket of his pants and grabbing his keys. "why don't i give you a ride?"

the roaring music from outside the bathroom trumped your sweet moans as rafe's fingers lodged down your throat as he thrusts into you, saliva coating them up to his rough knuckles. your head thumped against the wooden door with every push of his hips. trying to get support, your hands find their way to his broad shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. rafe kissed and licked every inch of your collarbone and neck, fluttering subtle hickey's on you that you wouldn't notice until later. "what a slut," rafe whispered in your ear, taunting you. " y' can't help yourself, can you?" he took his fingers out, bringing them down to your clit. he pressed them down on your already soaking cunt, rubbing it in circles at a gruelingly slow pace. you threw your head back, unable to give a coherent response. "answer me." you nodded your head, your moans cutting off with every thrust rafe gave. "m-mhm!" he looked down, seeing you take all of his length as he smiled. he grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look down at it too. "see how good you take me, baby? yeah, makes you feel good, doesn't it?" his sexual and playful banter took you over the edge as you felt the pleasure from both rafe's cock and fingers hit you. your hold on his shoulders tightened, your orgasm approaching soon. "g'na cum for me?" he asked, feeling his also coming. you bit your lip, trying to suppress your noises as you came. it hit so overwhelmingly hard as rafe pushed his cock into your cunt a few more times, his hips stuttering and releasing inside of you. rafe could feel your release and spit on his fingers as he looked at you, bringing his hand up again and putting them in his mouth.

"don't tell my sister about us."

[reflectingiridescent]

The Grand Complication Job

Oh my GOD where do I even begin. This episode was SUCH A GIFT IN GENERAL AND ALSO TO ME PERSONALLY. We've got references to The Inside Job, The Rashomon Job, The Girls Night Out Job, The ACTUAL PILOT, The Runway Job, The Maltese Falcon Job, and that's just me pulling from my first watch.

Also peep Tara "I'll do it but only if you pay me" Cole turning down thanks for the first time EVER and only taking an itty bitty watch as payment.

The fact that it's a very clear-cut 5-person con using Tara and Astrid instead of Eliot/Hardison/Harry. The fact that they USE TARA AS THE ELIOT BECAUSE THAT IS A DISTINCT PART OF HER SKILLSET and we always forget that because she was brought in originally as a temporary replacement for Sophie.

Tara's extremely calm and measured approach to everything. The reference to her previous work with governments and coding. The Russian border.

I HAVE QUESTIONS ABOUT HER GIVING SOPHIE PARENTING ADVICE? DID TARA GET A FOUND FAMILY? WHAT'S GOING ON THERE?

The glow up from her questioning the way Nate and the team did things to just doing them herself.

Parker: You're my wild card.

Parker seamlessly stepping into the role of leader which we all know and love. Sophie seamlessly stepping into the role of distraction so that the team can work. Astrid was kind of being taught here.

The team's ability to turn on a dime and Tara knowing exactly who to defer to and who to call. It's just so good. There is so much trust there.

"Aww, I'd've killed you too, babe."

Tara calling Breanna "hun" and "kid". Breanna acting very lesbian about meeting Tara. The in-episode upgrade to WINGMAN.

How the entire theme of the episode was an inversion of The Inside Job, where there it was two "dads" fighting to get Parker out while she was kind of coordinating her own thing. And this time it's two "daughters" fighting to get Sophie out while Sophie was just like lmaooo just wait until my kids get here.

The big spot of affirmation for Astrid and Parker from Sophie, and how Sophie considers herself to be one of Astrid's weaknesses 💔

Tara & Astrid mirroring that bit that Eliot and Hardison always used to pull! Mind you, they have JUST MET. I do like the idea that Sophie tells Tara so much detail about her team in passing that Tara can work with them if possible, but it also again drives home how much Sophie trusts Tara.

THE REFERENCE TO THE RASHOMON JOB BECAUSE ASTRID DID NOT NOTICE TARA.

Honestly still dying at how the bad guys have so much information on this team and didn't look at who Sophie was having lunch WITH. Sophie and Tara are the definition of DL.

I honestly don't know if Tara, the last time we saw her, would have verbally admitted how much she cares for Sophie in the way that she did this episode. She was so cagey back then. They both were. Warms my heart at how happy she seems and how wholeheartedly she stepped into the way that this team runs.

And I will actually take this growth and elevation of Tara over like, yeah, I know, the gay stuff a lot of us want to see between her and Sophie because like, I don't think any episode of the show has ever hit on how transcendent, rare, and deeply trusting it is for grifters like Tara and Sophie to have remained friends and confidantes for so long. No episode of the show before has ever really put this much emphasis onto the relationship between these two. Tara's always going to be there for Sophie. PERIOD.

We get foreshadowing of Tara's presence with the way that Parker and Astrid were acting on the roof.

Very slight reference to Sophie thinking the way Parker does in the s1 finale with Tara looking at that cable on the roof.

TARA DOES NOT UNDERSTAND PARKER AT ALL BUT SHE RESPECTS HER AND UNDERSTANDS HER AND HER LASER QUIRKS ENOUGH.

We even get the dance nod to Tara's iconic dance scene in s4!!! But no actual dancing which is fine.

Obsessed with how Tara stayed for drinks this time, even though I'm convinced that the only reason why she left with that one guy in s4 is because Sophie was obviously having serious issues with Nate and Tara was not about to stick around for that (never mind that Leverage was not going to pay Jeri Ryan for a whole extra episode).

Like even the styling is super consistent! Tara with all that silver bling around her neck.

We also get Tara driving which she did a lot in the OG series.

The Let Them Eat Cake function was sooo funny and I love how the entire episode is about how women can also be toxic and how they use that toxicity.

We also get Tara with a clothes rack which is a nod to that one fashion episode.

TARA COLE FOREVER AUNT OF THE LEVERAGE FOUND FAMILY!!!

[cassiesc0rner]

Impurities II

Synopsis: You’re the new girl at East Highland High, your only goal is to get through school. Until you come across Nate Jacobs

Genre: slightly suggestive, fluff, slight angst

Pairing: Nate x fem!reader

Warnings: manipulation, lying, dark themes, let me know if I missed something

Song rec: saint - dpr ian | in my feelings- ldr

WC: +7k

Other parts: previous part, next part,

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this part as much as the last one :3 I’d love to make some other parts including smut because I kinda like where this story is going so tell me if you guys would be down to read that!! ᥫ᭡

The next days weren’t that eventful. You went to school with Nate, you went to the mall with Nate, and you sometimes even waited for Nate until he was done with his football training.

The next week started out pretty smooth too. You got ready for school on Monday, before Nate picked you up, and you two drove to school and you went to your classes. Everything was going well.

Everything, except for lunch break.

The bell rang and you quickly stuffed your things into your bag, knowing that Nate was probably on his way to the cafeteria already.

You exited the room and walked towards the cafeteria, when someone suddenly stepped in front of you "We need to talk."

You looked up from the floor and found none other than Maddy. She had her arms crossed and looked at you with her usual confident stare.

You remembered what Nate told you about her, that you should stay away from her and that she's a liar, a cheater and simply a horrible person.

But you still couldn't be mean to her or ignore her. "About what?" You asked nervously. She rolled her eyes subtly "What do you think?" She answered.

Fair point.

"Listen, Nate and I aren't together if that's what you want to talk about. And even if we were, it’s not like we owe you any explanation." You didn't know where that surge of confidence came from. Maybe because she started getting on your nerves?

As if her constant stares weren't enough, she had to approach you now too? And she had the nerve to be annoyed when you simply asked what she wanted to talk about.

"Okay, I don't know what the fuck he told you, but it's probably not true." Maddy retorted "I just wanted to warn you, because you seem like a nice person."

You couldn't lie, you were curious about her point of view. You didn't want to betray your only friend, but it wouldn't hurt to listen to her explanation. It’s not like you'd believe her anyway.

"Warn me from what? I'm totally fine and Nate has been nothing but nice to me so far." Maddy scoffed, God, you’re so oblivious "So far, yeah that probably describes it perfectly. Did you ever do anything against his will?"

You thought for a moment Did I? "I take that as a no." Maddy answered for you "Nate only likes you because you do what he says. And," She looked you up and down "because you also wear what he wants you to wear. Seems like he didn't change at all."

You scoffed in disbelief "Nate has done so much for me, and he never forced me to wear this. He also never hurt me-." "Yet." She interrupted "It's only a matter of time until he does."

You stayed silent, not sure what to say to that "Nate loves control and he loves it even more when he has control over someone. He's fucking sick in the head, completely deranged!"

You didn't want to believe Maddy. There's no way Nate actually was like that, you knew him you spent so much time with him. Sure, he did have a short temper sometimes, but he never intentionally treated you badly.

And you knew that she treated him badly and not the other way around. How could she lie to you like that? Did she want you to drop him?

You weren't even his girlfriend and yet she went to such lengths to get back at him.

She's even worse than I thought.

"I know you probably don't want to believe me right now, because he seems like your only true friend and he did all these things for you. But all those things he does for you, are just another way for him to feel good about himself in some sick and twisted way."

What the fuck is wrong with her?

"Why would he buy all these things for you? Why would he make you change your style if he only wants to be your friend?"

She had a point, it might seem strange from the outside, but you knew that Nate only did that for you. He only gave you advice and compliments, and honestly? You felt way better about yourself compared to before.

"I appreciate your concern but it's really not like that, okay? I've known Nate for some time now, and if he would be as ‘deranged’ as you claim he is, I would've noticed by now, don't you think?" You responded as friendly as you could.

Maddy scoffed in return "Don't you think he's able to hide that? Of course he’s not violent towards you, you're like his new obsession. What would he do without you?" Maddy asked sarcastically.

"Maddy!" Nate's angry voice echoed through the hallway, making both of you flinch in surprise.

Maddy was scared, she knew what he was capable of, but she tried to keep her cool as he approached you two. "I told you to stay away from her, didn't I?" he said, his tone harsher than usual as he stared you down.

The hallway was almost empty, since most of the students were in the cafeteria already, but the ones that weren't, eyed the three of you. And it made you even more nervous.

You swallowed before nodding "I-I'm sorry-" "I talked to her first," Maddy interrupted. "someone had to warn her. Before you destroy her life as well."

That fucking bitch

She just couldn't keep her mouth shut, and it was pissing him off more and more. But Nate couldn't let his façade falter, especially not in front of you.

"You're insane... You always act like the victim, Maddy. You're so fucking desperate for attention that you involve innocent people."

You were so confused, first Maddy confronts you out of nowhere and then he appeared all of a sudden. And the other students were still staring as well.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? You-" "Just like back then, when you fucked that guy in front of everyone. Did you enjoy the attention? Did you enjoy humiliating me like that?" Maddy's eyes widened as she scoffed, she couldn’t believe Nate was putting on this show in front of everyone "Don't even try to compare that to the stuff that you did, Nate."

Nate chuckled drily in response. "I love how you don't even deny it. Or how you lied about that guy taking advantage of you while you were drunk." He took a step closer to her "Don't ever talk to her again, do you hear me? If I see you fucking talking to her one more time, it's over for you."

Nate threatened as Maddy's eyes widened ever so slightly. Nate grabbed your hand and almost dragged you after him as he walked towards the cafeteria.

You stumbled along as he took big steps, you didn't dare to speak, you weren’t even sure what to say. Once you reached the table, Nate sat down pulling you along with him.

You looked straight ahead, too afraid to look into his eyes. Nate sighed "Y/n... Look at me." You slowly moved your gaze towards him. He looked worried, as if he had lost you, the anger from earlier seemingly gone.

But only on the outside.

On the inside he was fuming, wishing he had choked Maddy harder back at the carnival.

"I'm sorry for being angry back there... I just know how much shit Maddy talks, and I don't want you to worry about anything just because she needed attention again."

You nodded slowly "I'm sorry, yeah?" he repeated as he softly stroked your cheek with his large hand. You melted into his touch as you smiled and nodded once again. "I shouldn't have talked to her in the first place."

Nate smiled softly. He adored you so much, Maddy would always fight with him when he got angry, but you? You didn't, you simply accepted his apology and told him it's fine, accepting that he's the way he is.

"Yeah but it's not your fault. You're just nice to the wrong people sometimes." He reassured you once again.

Nate was still incredibly pissed at Maddy but seeing you smile and lean into his touch made him feel so much better. It was insane how good he felt when he was with you, how easily you trusted him.

Nate needed to keep you close to him, he couldn't afford to lose you and he 100% meant what he said to Maddy.

He'd destroy her if she ever tries something stupid again.

"So, what's the special occasion?" You chuckled as you walked into the fancy restaurant Nate had picked out for the evening.

He told you to wear something pretty because you'd go out tonight. Needless to say, your mom was not impressed.

All she heard was 'Nate' and 'going out once it's dark outside' and she was immediately alarmed. Telling you to send her a text at least every hour.

She wasn't that displeased with your outfit this time though. You wore a midi dress with floral patterns and a v-neckline, combined with black flats and a necklace with a heart shaped pendant.

Nate definitely had plans for tonight.

It's been a month since you first met, and he decided that it would be the perfect day to finally ask you to be his.

This had to be the first time Nate was genuinely nervous to ask a girl out.

He was sure that you liked him too, but you never made any advances towards him. The only thing he did notice however, was your sour expression whenever some of the cheerleaders, or any girl for that matter, would talk to him.

He could tell that you got jealous, maybe even compared yourself to them, completely unaware of the fact that Nate only had eyes for you.

"Well, I'll tell you after we ate. Let's get inside first." He smiled as he took in your outfit once more while you walked inside the fancy restaurant. You didn't dare to move from Nate's side, too nervous once you saw how huge the restaurant was on the inside.

Nate greeted the receptionist and talked to him for a moment before he lead you to a beautifully decorated table for two.

Before you could even grab your chair, Nate was quick to pull it out for you to sit on. God, he's so attentive..

You smiled as you sat down "Thank you, sir." you said jokingly. Nate smiled as he responded "You're very welcome."

Once he sat down he passed you one of the two menu cards, before taking the other one himself. "By the way, I'm paying tonight so don't worry and order whatever you want alright?" he smiled warmly as he placed his hand on top of yours.

You looked up from the menu and locked eyes with Nate, ready to protest "Nate-" he shook his head immediately "Listen, it was my idea to take you here, and like I said, today is a special day and I wanna pay for it. So please let me, yeah?"

You sighed, knowing it's useless to protest anyways "Alright.." Nate chuckled, finding your pouty expression absolutely cute. You shyly looked down onto the table before you continued to speak "Can you... help me pick something out?"

He loved it so much when you gave him control, loved you so much.

"Of course, ba-" he cleared his throat, before taking the menu and looking for something nice, hoping you didn't notice that he almost called you 'baby'.

"Alright.. how about this?" He asked as he pointed onto something on the menu. You nodded, sure that you couldn't go wrong with pasta "I trust you. I bet you go here often."

Nate pretended to think for a moment. "Hmm not that often, I think I went here like twice. I really only go here on special occasions but so far I wasn't disappointed."

Another lie.

He visited the restaurant often, his parents sometimes ordered food there as well. He had plenty of chances to test out how good their quality was. And since today would be important, he had to make sure everything was perfect.

Once the two of you finished your food, Nate was quick to call a waitress over. The waitress came over to your table, a smile on her face as she asked "Would you like to pay with cash or card?" Nate opened his wallet, before he pulled out his card "Card, please."

The waitress got her device out of her pocket and set it up before Nate quickly swiped his card over the display. It was such a simple task and yet he made it look so attractive.

Before the waitress could leave, Nate quickly pulled a fifty dollar bill out of his wallet and gave it to her. Your eyes widened as you realized that that was his tip "T-thank you, sir.." The waitress stuttered.

Nate usually doesn't tip that generously, he couldn't care less to be honest, but he wanted to impress you as much as he possibly could.

The two of you got up, and walked towards the exit of the restaurant, leaving the fancy place. "So, would you mind letting me in on your plan?" You asked as you walked towards his car.

Nate grinned sheepishly "Impatient, aren't we?" You jokingly rolled your eyes in response "Keep in mind that I have to be home in a bit." You reminded him as you walked ahead of him.

Nate suddenly grabbed your hand and spun you around, resulting in you stumbling into his chest. You looked up at him before taking a step back, your hand still in his "Don't worry your pretty little head, I already took care of that." Nate proudly announced.

You were beyond confused at this point. "Huh? What do you mean?" Nate chuckled at your confused expression. "I talked to your dad the other day when I was at yours. Told him that you'd 'be at a party' at my place today. He agreed and told me you could sleep at mine and that he'd talk to your mom about it."

You blinked up at Nate, surprised that he lied to your dad just so you could sleep at his. It had to be serious if he'd go that far "Wow... I... really?"

To be honest, it didn't go exactly like that, because he barely even listened to Nate, which obviously made him furious. He genuinely just wanted to club him with the nearest object.

He didn't understand how anyone could be so uninterested in his own family, especially you. Sure, he was happy that your dad agreed to let you sleep at his place, but he didn't even care about the reason, he just wanted to go back to doing whatever the fuck was more important, on his phone.

Your dad just came from work at that time, but Nate's pretty sure that he's always like this, simply from the stories he's heard from you.

"W-wait.. I didn't even pack things for that.. And you’re sure my dad just agreed like that?" Nate nodded "Yeah he did, and it's no problem I'll find something for you to sleep in, don't worry." Nate reasoned.

He couldn't wait for you to be in his clothes, in his bed, snuggled against him under his blanket. Fuck, he couldn't wait until he could finally wrap his arms around you and hold you close to him that you can't leave him.

Nate thought about sleeping next to you so often. He obviously also thought about sleeping with you and it felt like a dream each time.

He’d treat you like the goddess that you are.

Nate already made it his goal to make you cum as many times as possible before you pass out, and he'd do anything just to hear you moan his name. Just the thought alone had him throbbing in his pants.

"Nate?"

Shit, he had to control himself and prevent his problem from growing. "Yeah? Sorry, I got lost in thoughts." You chuckled at his flustered response and expression. You didn't know how people could be scared of him, not when he was this cute.

"You're so cute sometimes." Nate didn't expect you to say that. He's been called many things so far but that was new. And he definitely would’ve prefered any other compliment.

In his opinion, 'cute' was something you'd say to your girlfriend, or maybe a baby or your pet but not to a guy like him.

He swallowed his pride and put on a smile "You're definitely cuter." He said as he leaned down, his face almost directly in front of yours.

You gulped before laughing nervously, your eyes wandering around in an attempt to avoid his intense gaze. Nate smirked before walking past you "C'mon let's go." He said as he opened the car door for you.

The ride was pretty quiet, mostly because you still tried to figure out what Nate could've possibly planned.

You were sure that it wasn't his birthday today, since you've talked about birthdays before.

Nate parked his car and the two of you walked towards what appeared to be a park, with a white gazebo in the middle. Now you were genuinely starting to worry.

It was starting to get dark already, the sun almost gone as the two of you were in a seemingly empty park, heading towards a gazebo.

Nate could sense your hesitation in the way you walked a bit slower and looked around, observing your environment. "We're almost done I promise." Was all he said as he entered the fancy gazebo, sitting down on the bench inside.

You followed him inside, looking at him like a lost puppy. Nate smiled warmly as he patted the free spot next to him on the bench. You sighed nervously before finally sitting down, your gaze locked onto Nate.

He was really happy that you could finally look at him without hesitation, unlike the first time he met you. You got so much more comfortable around him in general.

He cleared his throat before he started talking "Alright, so.. I bet you're wondering what's going on." You nodded eagerly "Let me ask you something," He said as he fully turned towards you "Do you know what happened one month ago, exactly on this day?"

You looked into his eyes trying to search for hints, but found none. You tried to think back, repeating the date over and over again in your head but to no avail. You shook your head in response, a small pout on your lips.

Nate chuckled "One month ago was the first time we met each other, do you remember?" He asked carefully, and your eyes lit up afterwards, remembering how kind he was from the beginning. "Of course I remember, you really saved me, I thought I was just destined to stay alone forever until I met you." You smiled as you thought of all the great memories you and Nate had so far.

Nate felt relieved that you felt that way, and not like he was the reason barely anyone dared to talk to you. Which he obviously was, with the way he glared at anyone who even dared to look at you in the hallways.

"I'm glad you think so, y/n. And I've been think about this, and about you for a long time." You tilted your head to the side as you waited for him to continue "I really really like you, y/n. Not in a way.. a friend should like another friend."

Your smile dropped as you finally understood what was going on. The fancy dinner, the fancy gazebo, him mentioning the first time you met. No, there's no way, he wouldn't- "I love you, y/n. I know this might be sudden right now, but I just had to tell you today. The date was perfect and I... I'm tired of hiding this from you."

Nate despised how vulnerable he was in front of you right now, but he also knew that he might be more successful this way, that him showing some emotions would result in you saying yes.

"I know that you haven't been in a relationship yet and I promise I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do. We can take things slow."

You suddenly felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest. Nate was asking you to be his girlfriend..

He planned all of this to ask you to be his girlfriend.

You did not expect that. You weren't sure what you were expecting but this wasn't on your list. "Nate I... I don't know what to say..." Was all you managed to whisper as you averted your gaze.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel something for him, and the fact that he put so much effort into asking you out also touched you, but you were so scared of losing him, you needed him whether you wanted to admit it or not. You couldn't even imagine living without him from now on so why did you hesitate?

Nate stayed quiet as well, before reaching for your hand, in an attempt to get you to look at him "Y/n, I get it, you probably didn't expect me to say all that, but I genuinely mean it." You slowly raised your head and looked into his eyes once again.

The look he gave you was filled with sincerity and love and you wanted to hug him and tell him that everything is gonna be fine, that you're his "You know that I might not be here for long... I couldn't live with the fact that I have to leave you behind. What if you'll feel like you're wasting your time with me?"

Nate quickly shook his head "I'll never think like that, and I already told you that I'll find a solution if that should happen." Nates grip on your hand tightened before he added "Just tell me what you want right now. Without thinking of things that might or might not happen."

You sighed "I want to be with you, I just... really didn't think you'd actually want someone like me to be your girlfriend, so I never considered it.." Nate frowned.

'Someone like you’? What did you mean by that? Nate was sure that there was no one better than you, that you were the perfect choice for him.

"There's nothing wrong with you, and I'll tell you that over and over again if I have to. You're everything I want, I don't need someone else I only need you, I already told you that before." He replied, searching for your eyes once again.

You suddenly remembered that day you went over to his place and his brother showed up. When you sat on the sofa with him and he told you that you were everything he needed. So he really meant it like that.

You looked at him, a sad smile on your face "I need you too, no one has ever been able to make me feel so loved and important... Not even my parents... I can’t imagine going back to that… I mean, I was miserable before I met you." Nate tried to hide his smirk when he heard that.

He absolutely loved how dependent you were on him, he knew you'd need him eventually.

He softly placed his hand on your cheek, hoping you'd melt into his touch like you did back when he first did it in the cafeteria.

And you didn't disappoint him.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of his touch in the chilly breeze. "Please.. Give me a chance to prove you I'll treat you good." Nate softly pleaded.

You opened your eyes, looking at him "I'd never doubt that, Nate.. I'm just really worried I-" Nate sighed before retrieving his hand, and you hated it, hated how cold you felt again.

"It's about what Maddy told you, isn't it?" Nate asked, his tone rougher than before. You quickly shook your head "No! Oh my god of course not. I know that she's lying." You scooted closer to Nate, your hands finding his this time.

"I trust you.. Only you."

Nate looked at you, a small frown still evident on his features. He kept quiet, hoping that it'll give you the final push to say yes.

You sighed as you thought for a moment. You liked him too, so why not give him a chance? You'll probably never be this lucky again. This is what you wanted, what you dreamed of.

You deserved some happiness for once. And you were sure he'd make you happy, just like he already did. And you'd do your best to make him happy as well.

"Nate, I'd love to be your girlfriend."

Nate almost jumped off the bench. You finally said yes, you were finally officially his. His eyes immediately lit up and he pulled you into probably the tightest hug you've ever had.

Nate sighed in relief, everything worked just like he wanted it to. No one would take you away from him now.

That was probably his biggest fear, that some guy would make a move on you and steal you from him. And it would've been so unfair too, because he was the one who turned you into his obedient pretty girl.

In his eyes, no one deserved you more than he did.

"I promise you won't regret it, yeah?" He mumbled into your neck before raising his head ever so slightly to press a kiss to your cheek.

You giggled as you tried to process the fact that Nate Jacobs was now your boyfriend. Once Nate let go of you, you noticed how cold it had gotten, and you shivered slightly.

Nate frowned "Are you cold? We can go home if you want to." He offered. "That might be a good idea. Only if you want to though."

Nate appreciated that you still let him decide, even though you were cold already.

He chuckled before standing up "C'mere." He said as he extended his arm. You stood up and walked towards him and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, before the two of you walked to his car.

Nate knew that he had to introduce you to his parents and he absolutely hated it. He knew that if he simply told you to go upstairs, you might think he doesn't want you to meet them.

You were quick to misinterpret things negatively sometimes and he didn't want you to worry about his parents not liking you or something.

You once asked him, when you came over for the fifth time why you haven’t seen his parents yet. And he told you he only invites you over when he's alone, because they’re weird. He quickly made sure to tell you that he just simply 'dislikes' his whole family to put it nicely.

Once he parked the car, he turned towards you and placed his hand on your thigh to grab your attention. You looked up at him with your beautiful eyes and he could've kissed you right then and there but he wasn't sure if that would've been too soon for you.

"Listen, my parents are probably home right now... Just a heads up, they might want to meet you. Are you okay with that?" He asked softly.

You felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest.

You've never seen them before, except on the family picture on the wall at the staircase. You had no idea what you had to expect. "I'm kinda scared to be honest.." You replied nervously. "What if they don't like me?"

Nate scoffed before shaking his head "Don't worry, they only hated Maddy, because she was really rude and she called my mother a cunt." Your eyes widened in shock "She did what?" You asked in disbelief.

Nate nodded as he looked outside the window "I told you, she was intense..." You scoffed in response "Yeah definitely, did she even contribute anything good to the relationship?" You asked genuinely curious.

Nate thought for a moment, did she?

"Well not really, but I don't care anymore. I have you now. You could never disappoint me the way she did, so don’t worry." He responded with a smile before undoing his and your seatbelt.

Once the two of you got out of the car and Nate locked the doors, he took your hand in his and walked towards the entrance.

He was kind of nervous as well since his dad could be unpredictable. But Nate already told his mom that he might bring you home today and she was thrilled to meet you.

He sighed before unlocking the door and walking inside with you. He just hoped Aaron wasn't at home or at least not downstairs this time.

You started taking your shoes off as quietly as possible, hoping that they wouldn't hear or notice you. Nate also took his shoes off before you walked the living room together.

His mom sat on the sofa with a glass of wine. As soon as she noticed the two of you, she placed her glass down on the coffee table and walked over to the two of you with a friendly grin.

"Hello sweetie, you must be y/n." She exclaimed before hugging you subtly. She then took a small step back and looked at you.

"Yes.. It's so nice to meet you.." You said as you tried to smile at her and maintain eye contact. You knew it would've been rude to not look at her, but you were still pretty nervous.

Then she looked you up and down, which made you even more insecure "Wow... gorgeous and polite, seems like Nate finally found the right one." Nate rolled his eyes before taking your hand back in his "Alright mom, we'll be upstairs then." He announced.

"Oh already? But-" "Yeah it's been a pretty rough week, we'll talk tomorrow." He interrupted before almost dragging you along with him towards the stairs "Again, it was nice meeting you Mrs. Jacobs."

You quickly added before following him "Likewise, Honey!" You truly loved how sweet she was. Your mom barely called you Honey, or Sweetie. She only used your name when she called for you.

Just as Nate thought he finally had you to himself, he heard the front door unlock.

He debated on whether he should turn around or not, before deciding against it and simply walking upstairs in front of you. Until he heard the person speak

"Aren't you gonna introduce me to your new girlfriend Nate?" It was Cal.

Nate was surprised when he entered the living room earlier and saw that his Mom seemed to be alone. But he was glad and hoped it'd stay that way.

But sadly it didn’t.

Nate sighed as he looked at you not sure whether to tell you to go ahead to his room or actually allow his asshole dad to introduce himself.

He noticed how Cal moved towards the stairs before he looked at you "I'm Cal, pleasure to meet you." He said before extending his hand.

You shook it, trying to mimic his firm grip but failing miserably. "I'm Y/n.." You almost whispered as you avoided his piercing gaze. You then retreated your hand before adding "a-also pleased to meet you."

You couldn't tell why but you felt the atmosphere shift in a way. It was.. eerily quiet. And you knew that there was something going on between Nate and his Dad. Simply by the way they stared at each other, and the way Nate talked about him sometimes.

"Alright, we're gonna go upstairs then." Nate said drily before gesturing for you to walk ahead. You quickly walked up the stairs, happy that you'd be alone with him soon again.

You didn't mind talking to his mom, but his dad scared the shit out of you. There was just something so dark about him. You wouldn't want to be alone with him.

Once Nate finally closed the door behind you two, you sighed out of relief. "Sorry about him, he really knows how to make people uncomfortable.." Nate grumbled when he saw the relief on your face.

"It wasn't that bad." You lied as you chuckled nervously. "You don't have to lie to me. I saw how nervous you got when you shook his hand." Nate responded before plopping down on his bed and sighing.

Why couldn’t he just move out and live with you? All alone somewhere secluded where he has you to himself, far away from his and your family.

"This is exactly why I didn't want you to meet my parents." He reasoned. You walked towards him, and lied down beside him before placing your head on his firm chest "Don't worry it.. really wasn't that bad. I think your mom is really nice."

Yeah totally

Nate closed his eyes as he enjoyed the weight of your head on his chest. He could’ve stayed like this forever.

Until your phone vibrated in your bag.

You groaned before getting up and rummaging through your bag until you found it.

It was your mom, great… You totally forgot to text her during the entire time.

6 new messages

mom: Hey, when are you gonna come home? 5:45 pm

mom: Just talked to your dad.. Are you really going to sleep at his place?? 5:58 pm

mom: Are you okay? 6:20 pm

mom: If you want me to pick you up you can call me 6:49 pm

mom: hellooo? 7:02 pm

mom: please text me back when you see this I’m worried 7:15 pm

“Holy shit…” You scoffed. “What? Is it your mom?” You nodded before walking back to bed and showing him your chat.

Nates eyes widened in both amazement and terror. “Jesus, she’s so controlling.” You nodded while you quickly texted her back.

You had to give her Nate’s address some time ago, when you went over to his place more frequently. You were sure she’d actually get in her car and come over if you wouldn’t reply to her.

you: I’m fine everything is okay! stop worrying so much 7:17 pm

Nate got up from his bed and headed towards his closet, grabbing a basic tee and some shorts before he handed them over to you “Here you can wear this, I hope it’s fine.”

You nodded and smiled at him “Of course, thank you.” He smiled back at you for a moment “I’ll go to the bathroom, yeah?” He said before heading towards his bathroom.

You decided to get dressed while he’s gone, slipping out of your dress, folding it as best as you could and placing it neatly next to his bed. Then you put on his shirt, which was in fact long enough to cover your thighs, and his shorts.

You sat back on Nate’s bed until he came back from his bathroom. Despite being in his room so many times before, you never slept at his place. Because you’re mother was against it of course.

But you had to admit it was smart of Nate to lie to your dad about having a party, and saying that many people were gonna sleep at his, and you wouldn’t be alone with him.

You wondered if Nate had to lie to his parents like that too.

His mom was way more understanding than yours was, so probably not. And she seemed so kind too, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that Maddy insulted her like that.

You wished you would’ve moved here earlier, simply because you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a lot going on that you didn’t know of.

Like the Cassie situation for example.

You knew almost nothing about her, and it kinda scared you, because Nate mentioned that she was insane and extremely obsessed with him.

You didn’t even know what she looked like, so how were you supposed to stay out of her way?

You were certain that it would just be a question of time until she’d approach you as well. And you were also pretty sure that she won’t be as nice or as rational as Maddy was.

Sure, Maddy said all these bad things out of spite and because she hated her ex boyfriend. But Cassie? What if she’s still in love with him and finds out that you two are dating?

Nate entered the room again, taking in the sight of you in his clothes as you sat leaned against his bed frame staring ahead with wide eyes.

You looked so adorable and so… distracted for some reason. Nate walked up to you, pulling you out of your thoughts. “What’s on your mind?” He asked as he stood in front of you.

The way you craned your head up to look at him, made him feel things he shouldn’t feel. Especially since your head was at eye level with his crotch.

He tried to focus on whatever you were going to tell him nonetheless “I’m just… worried. You told me about Cassie being obsessed with you and… what if she finds out I’m your girlfriend?”

Nate sighed. Because you had a point, but he really didn’t want to think of her or talk about her anymore. He was already glad that she barely went to school after their break up, and that he could keep you far away from her.

“You don’t have to worry about her, I told you I’ll protect you. Cassie is crazy but she’s harmless, except for yelling she can’t do much.” He tried to reassure you.

You looked down as you fiddled with the hem of Nate’s shirt.

You already were an anxious person, so the fact that your boyfriend only dated crazy people in the past, wasn’t exactly helpful.

“I feel safe with you… but we’re not always together at school, and I… don’t have any friends.” That’s when you realized just how alone you actually were without Nate.

You had no friends at all, now that Nate wasn’t your friend anymore but your boyfriend. It was sad, really. But what you didn’t seem to realize was that it wasn’t your fault at all.

It was Nate’s.

He was convinced you didn’t need anyone but him, even if that meant you’d have no friends. What would you need them for anyway when you had him?

Nate frowned “But you’re not alone either, you have me. Or… am I not enough?” He frowned. You immediately shook your head “No, of course you’re enough. You’re more than enough, that’s not what I meant.”

Nate smiled in response before you added “I just see all these girls walk through school with their friends and.. it makes me feel sad because I don’t have any friends I can talk to or walk through school with.. I sometimes feel like I’m getting on your nerves because I talk to you so much.”

Nate scoffed as he walked towards the TV "C'mon you could never annoy me." He assured you as he turned the TV on. Then he turned off the main light and plopped down next to you before turning on the bedside lamp.

When you didn't respond to him, he added "I understand that you want to have friends at school, but most of the girls at school are... awful. They're fake, and really mean and all they care about is boys and sex."

You really wanted to believe him but there’s just no way every single girl was like that. And Nate also couldn’t possibly know every single girl at school.

Nate looked at you and it was almost as if he could read your thoughts, because he knew you didn’t quite believe him.

And it irritated him.

You always believed him everything so why were you questioning him now?

He quickly changed the topic in an attempt to put a stop to your thoughts. “I still can’t believe you’re mine by the way...” He said as he softly intertwined his fingers with yours, smiling at you.

And it worked like a charm.

You smiled shyly as you avoided his somewhat intense gaze. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to him looking at you like that.

Nate decided to take it a step further, stroking your cheek with his other hand until you slowly looked back at him.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked quietly, almost as if he was scared you’d say no.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to kiss you, but you literally never kissed anyone before and you were scared that Nate would laugh at you.

“Um… yeah just… please don’t laugh at me.” you chuckled. Nate smirked “Don’t worry, I won’t. We’ll take it slow, yeah?” He said as he scooted closer.

He let go of your hand and moved it to your left cheek instead, cupping it gently as he pulled your face closer. He leaned in until his lips finally touched yours.

The feeling was foreign but you enjoyed it nonetheless. His lips were so soft as they moved against your own. You tried to mimic his movements as your brows furrowed in concentration.

Nate slowly broke the kiss as he searched your face for any sign of discomfort “How did it feel?” He asked as his eyes were glued to your lips. “It felt.. really good.” You responded quietly.

“Can we try again?” You asked as you fiddled with you shirt again.

Fuck, why were you so cute?

“Sure, of course.” Nate responded “You can touch me too, you know?” He added as he took your right hand and placed it on his shoulder. “Oh, okay..” You smiled before leaning in again.

Nate pressed his lips against yours once again. He could tell you were more eager this time when you leaned in first. You tilted your head slightly, like you had seen on TV several times, and it already felt more natural and deeper than the first kiss.

You felt incredibly excited with how close Nate was to you right now, and you also had this warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

It was almost like your body worked on its own. Your hand slid from his shoulder to his neck as you closed your eyes, and your lips finally seemed to move more in sync.

Nates hand moved to your waist in an attempt to pull you even closer, while your unoccupied hand moved to his cheek.

He pressed kiss after kiss onto your lips making sure to take his time with you, some kisses lasting longer than others.

You were the first one to break the kiss this time, since you were running out of breath. “Wow.. that was amazing.” You chuckled as you slowly removed your hands from Nate.

He smirked at you, clearly happy that you enjoyed kissing him, because he felt the same way. He was definitely glad that you didn’t straddle his lap though, because then you probably would’ve felt just how happy he truly was.

“Wanna do it again?”

✎ Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this part as well. If you have any questions/feedback please let me know ♡

- Cassandra

[sturnioz]

shy!reader runs into cherry at a frat party.

you found yourself running later than usual for the frat party.

typically, friday evenings were a simple routine; you would heard straight to the frat house after classes—maybe stopping at your apartment for a few minutes to grab what you need—but this time, you got really caught up.

after class, your professor had called you aside. he looked serious, but you knew you weren't in trouble—your track record in his class was immaculate. he only wanted to discuss your progress and upcoming assignments, sharing a few insights about what was going to happen.

then, once the small meeting was over and you hurried back to your apartment in hopes to grab a few things, your phone buzzed—a call from your parents. you would never decline a call from them, and you'll drop everything for your family, so you didn't really mind catching up with them and talking about home... even if the call lasted longer than you anticipated.

but once your parents hung up, and you were ready to leave, bee had came bursting into your room, needing help with something. you couldn't bring yourself to say no; so you set aside your plans of leaving and stayed with her, helping her with whatever she needed until you were both ready to go.

now, as you walk up to the front door with bee, you stick by her side, taking in the amount of people spilling into the garden and crowding the hallway leading inside the frat house, following her as she confidently leads the way.

as you step inside, you smile politely at the familiar faces of students who greet bee—her always being the more social one, flitting from one person to another while you quietly observe, happy to just linger in the background.

bee leads you both into the living-room, where you usually expect to find chris man-spreading across the couch dealing his products, but to your surprise, he's absent. instead, your gaze lands on kitty, matt, and nate who are gathered together.

bee bounces giddily towards nate, who greets her with a boyish grin and sweeps her into his arms, lifting her off the ground in a warm in brace as she giggles. you can't help but smile at their interaction before shuffling closer to kitty and matt, who both welcome you with friendly nods.

"where's chris?" you ask softly, glancing around in hopes to catch a glimpse of him.

"dealin' somewhere," matt murmurs, leaning forward toward the table, one hand securely wrapped around kitty—ensuring she doesn't slip from his lap—while the other reaches for a can of soda, holding it out to you. "here, got you somethin' while we were waitin' f'you."

"thank you," you reply politely, reaching for the soda, but then you feel the weight of your bag in your hands, and you smile sheepishly. "actually.. can you keep it safe for me please?"

"sure, kid."

with that, you carefully manoeuvre through the crowd, your heart racing a little as you navigate through the sea of bodies alone, making your way towards the staircase. you brush past a few frat brothers, their drunken grins wide and welcoming as they greet you—some give light pats and gentle strokes to the top of your head, others press sloppy kisses to your forehead, making your face heat up as you smile shyly in response, which made your face feel hot.

as you continue walking, the crowd begins to thin out the more you make your way to your designated floor, heading towards the door at the far end of the hallway that belongs to chris. you notice his door beginning to open, and your heart lifts at the thought of him coming through.

but as the door swings wider, your smile falters. instead of chris, it's cherry who steps out of his bedroom, her thumb rubbing across her painted red lips, seemingly touching up her makeup.

the sight sends a wave of confusion and odd disappointment sweeping over you, and your steps come to a slow halt, the strap of your bag tightening between your fingers as you blink repeatedly, trying to process what you're witnessing.

cherry catches your eye, and her expression shifts as she notices you standing there—leaving both of you in a silence that gnaws at your insides.

you haven't seen cherry in person for a long while. the last time you caught a glimpse of her was in a photo on chris' instagram; taken at the frat formal. the sight of her pressed up against him flashes through your mind, and an uncomfortable twist coils in your stomach.

why was she in chris' room? why does her makeup look smudged? why is she fixing it? did something happen in there? a thousand question races through your mind and you take a small step back, craving some distance to collect your swirling thoughts. the air feels thick with unspoken tension, and you bite down on your plush bottom lip, wrestling with your feelings before you swallow them down.

"hello." you greet her first, mustering the courage to break the awful silence, your voice a little unsteady.

"bun," she replies, and you wince slightly at the sound of your nickname on her lips. it feels jarring and harsh, lacking the warmth it usually carries when spoken by others. even chris' way of saying it seems to brighten the word, but from her, it falls flat... almost mocking.

"excuse me," you whisper this time as you try to step past her and into chris' room, and she takes a slow step to the side, but her gaze remains locked onto yours—her eyes burning with an intensity that makes you want to turn around and go back downstairs.

"not that it's any of your business, because it's really not," cherry suddenly speaks up just as your hand brushes against the doorknob. you lift your head, looking at her with wide eyes, wondering what she's going to say. "but i didn't go with chris to the frat formal. i went because i'm a sorority girl—the sorority was invited too."

you knew that she hadn't gone with him; chris had told you that he went alone. but you didn't know she was a sorority girl, it catches you off guard a little. that was new to you. the suddenness of her confession leaves you feeling a bit disoriented, and you find your eyebrows knitting together softly.

"i.. i never said anything about—"

"i know you didn't say anything, but your whole sudden disappearance act after the formal—the whole 'radio silence' thing—that was the talk of both houses," cherry states, crossing her arms over her chest. "i was just smart enough to put two and two together and figure out why."

you immediately feel a rush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks, and a knot forms in your stomach at the thought of being the main subject of gossip. the ifea of everyone discussing you, speculating about your life, makes you skin crawl.

you didn't like that.

you didn't like that at all.

"i.. i didn't mean to make it such a big deal," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing anxiety tightening around your chest. "and i didn't know everyone would talk about it..."

"of course they would. you're chris' current hookup. everyone is curious about you."

the label stings a lot more than you expected, and you can feel your pulse in your ears. you shift your weight awkwardly, fidgeting with the strap of your bag as the other hand loosens on the doorknob.

"you're going to be talked about, whether you like it or not," cherry continues, tilting her head to the side, her red hair falling perfectly over her shoulder and framing her face as she smirks at you. "especially because you're so different from the rest of us."

the moment the words leave her lips, you go completely silent, a chill running down your spine. you're very aware that chris has slept with multiple people before you, people that are not as quiet and shy are you are, but hearing her say it out loud makes you feel weird—so out of place and vulnerable.

you want to respond, to say something—anything—but you're just standing there, staring at her, your mouth slightly agape. cherry's smirks widens as she notices your silence, and you wish you could just disappear, to phase through the walls and escape this situation.

"yeah..." cherry drawls as she begins to walk backward, taking her leave. "thought so."

divider credits. @issysh3ll

© STURNIOZ

[theemporium]

[4.4k] upon meeting their captain's new girlfriend, some of the devils are convinced there is something supernatural about her. others aren't. jack deems it his job to prove it.

[find other fright night specials here]

.

“She is hiding something.”

Jonas watched the way Jack slumped onto the couch, wiggling his way between himself and Timo. He also watched the way Timo took a long sip from his beer, pretending like he hadn’t heard what Jack just said despite the boy staring at him expectantly. 

“Who’s hiding something?” Jonas asked, despite knowing he would regret even opening his mouth. Which was confirmed even more when Jack’s head snapped around, a glint in his eyes that made Jonas a little uncomfortable.

“Cap’s new girl.” 

Jonas blinked before raising brows. “You mean the girl we just met for the first time half an hour ago?” 

“Yes, her,” Jack confirmed with a nod, frowning. “Geez, you think Nico would two time someone? God, Siegs, he’s a Capricorn, not a monster.” 

Jonas’ nose scrunched. “I have not drunk enough for you to start talking nonsense. Where’s Luke, I need a translator.”

Jack jabbed his side with his obscenely pointy elbows in response.

“Ouch,” Jonas hissed. 

“But I’m telling you,” Jack insisted, leaning back against the couch. “She’s weird.” 

“Dude,” Dawson muttered from the armchair beside them. “Not cool.” 

“You literally don’t know her,” Jonas pointed out. “And you’re also the last person to call someone weird.”

“Not like bad weird,” Jack huffed. “Just…suspicious weird.” 

Timo groaned. “Someone make him stop.”

“Suspicious weird?” Nate repeated, his brows raised like he was thoroughly amused by the whole conversation. “Suspicious how?” 

Jack lifted his chin. “Suspicious in the supernatural way.” 

Nate let out a boisterous laugh in response.

“Jack,” Jonas sighed deeply, pressing his fingers against his temples like it would rid him of the thumping pain that had nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with the boy next to him. “What in loving fuck are you talking about?”

“Ignore him,” Luke piped up as he appeared from thin air, moving around the gangle of stretched out legs before settling down on the armrest of Dawson’s armchair. “He’s been watching loads of Vampire Diaries right now. He is delusional.” 

“It’s a seasonal show,” Jack grumbled.

“It’s giving you stupid ideas,” Timo retorted. “What, you think Cap is shacking it up with some vampire chick?”

“Well, nobody said vampire. I haven’t narrowed it down yet. Feels rude to assume, you know?” Jack said. “But she’s something.”

“She’s Nico’s girlfriend,” Jonas stated bluntly. “And this is probably why he waited so long to introduce her to us. Because you’re insane.”

“Or because she knows we will find out what she’s hiding,” Jack insisted, his eyes narrowed at the scene across the room. 

Jonas turned his head to catch a glimpse of what Jack was looking at, just to find Nico tucked away in the corner of the room with one arm around you. He kept you plastered to his side, a fond smile on his lips and a look of pure adoration in his eyes as he listened to you whisper something to him. It was a sweet sight, and very lacking in the supernatural aspect. 

“On the very slim chance she is,” Nate started. 

Jonas groaned. “Don’t encourage him.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” Nate finished, his eyes fixed on Jack’s pondering expression.

“Well,” Jack shrugged. “I’m his A. I gotta make sure he’s safe.” 

“He’s a big boy, he can handle himself,” Timo waved him off.

“Not if she’s a siren. I’ve seen what those things can do—”

“In a TV show made over a decade ago.”

“Shut up, Luke.”

…

All in all, no one had given much thought into Jack’s insane theory. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, there had been a few more interactions between you and the team but Jonas had assumed Jack had realised how delusional he was being and dropped it. That was his mistake for thinking Jack was anything close to self aware. But in Jonas’ humble opinion, every interaction with you had been completely normal and completely human.

And Jack had seemed to think so too until the Devils Family Skate Day came up. 

“Big day, huh?” Nate teased as he walked into the locker room, giving Nico a playful nudge as he walked past his stall. 

Nico lifted his head, brows furrowing together a little but he smiled nonetheless. “I mean, yeah, I guess.” 

Nate raised his brows. “Wow, Cap, pretty sure you are meant to be a bit more hyped about your girl meeting your family for the first time. Your folks flew over, didn’t they?” 

“Well, yeah,” Nico smiled but shrugged his shoulders. “But uh, they aren’t meeting her today.” 

Jonas paused what he was doing, somewhat surprised. “She isn’t coming today?”

Nico shook his head but Jack opened his mouth before he could say anything. 

“What? How come? I thought you two were serious now,” Jack questioned, a weird glint in his eyes that Jonas didn’t like the look of at all. “You know, she hasn’t been to any games either, has she? Is she not a hockey fan?” 

“Stop interrogating,” Jonas grumbled. 

“No, she is but,” Nico paused, waving his hand like the motion meant something. “She’s not feeling great today so she is staying home.” 

“She’s sick?” Jack asked. 

“Probably Nico’s cooking,” Timo snorted.  

“She just feels a bit…uh, what’s the word…sensitive?” Nico answered, his brows furrowed together like he was thinking hard about his response. “She’ll be better for the dinner at Pally’s house though, don’t worry.” 

Jack’s face lit up. “The dinner at Pally’s?” 

Nico shot him a weird look. “Yes, Jack, the one you know about too because you’re in the group chat.”

Jack didn’t seem fazed. “The one on Thursday?” 

“Yes?” 

“Thursday night?”

“Is there a joke I’m missing?” Nico retorted but nodded. “Yes, the one on Thursday night. It’s nothing contagious, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not,” Jack responded, absolutely gleeful. 

But Nico decided not to question it further—because he was a smart man—and instead continued to gear up before he made his way out onto the ice, stepping up as captain to be the first one on the ice for the cameras.

It took less than thirty seconds after Nico walked out before Jack broke.

“I fucking knew it!” 

Heads turned in the locker room, a mix of confused and baffled faces staring at the boy but it was Jonas who sighed deeply and took one for the team, instead of ignoring Jack like his conscience was telling him to do. 

“Knew what?” 

“She’s a vampire!” 

Jonas blinked. “Excuse me?” 

“Cap’s girl!” Jack insisted, almost giddy in his seat. “She’s a vampire!”

“I thought you didn’t want to make any assumptions,” Jonas deadpanned. 

“Well, I’ve assumed now and my assumption is right,” Jack replied, a little snotty when he did. “She’s a vampire. It’s so obvious.”

“I am gonna regret asking this but,” Jonas paused, taking a deep breath like he was preparing himself. “How is it obvious?” 

Jack shot him a look. “Dude.”

Jonas raised his brows in response. 

“We never see her during the day,” Jack stated, as if that made his way of thinking any clearer to Jonas. 

“Oh shit,” Nate murmured, nodding. “Hughesy has a point.”

“No, he does not. Stop encouraging this,” Jonas sighed before turning back to Jack. “What the fuck are you on about?” 

“How many times have we met her?” Jack questioned, that odd glint in his eyes shining brighter than before. It was very disconcerting. 

“Uh, like five?” 

“Uh huh,” Jack nodded, grinning. “And what’s the common denominator with each of those meetings?” 

Jonas didn’t bother to hide his surprise. “You know what denominator means?” 

“Shut up and answer the question.” 

Jonas huffed. “I don’t know, you were watching her like a creep?” 

“Observing in the name of science,” Jack corrected before leaning over to smack Jonas’ arm. “Dude, we only ever saw her at night. We have never met her during the day. Nico has only brought her for dinners.” 

Jonas blinked. “So that makes her a vampire?” 

“Nico said so himself!” Jack exclaimed. “He said she was feeling sensitive!” 

“You feel sensitive after one rum and coke,” Nate countered. 

“Low blow, Bas.” 

“This is ridiculous,” Jonas grumbled, shifting his attention back to lacing his skates and getting the rest of his gear on before one of the media staff came in to yell at them, “She isn’t a vampire, Jack. Drop it.”

“I’m gonna prove it.”

“Please don’t.”

“Just wait and see, Siegs.”

…

Jack’s first attempt at proving that his assumption was correct actually happened at Pally’s dinner that Thursday. 

It was a laidback get-together, something to keep team morale high with not as much effort, considering hitting restaurants around Jersey wouldn’t be the most relaxing or lowkey environment most of the team desired on their off days. Every once in a while, one of the older guys with the bigger houses offered their place up and everyone brought something for the table. 

Jonas made the mistake of assuming Luke would keep his older brother in line. 

Because Luke did not, in fact, keep his brother in line. If anything, half of the team were encouraging his snooping and theorising. Well, mostly Nate who kept sending Jack bullshit articles that Jonas was pretty sure were just Twilight fan websites. 

“Ready to eat dirt?”

Jonas frowned. “Don’t tell me that’s what you brought with you, Pally’s kids are eating with us.” 

“I—” Jack sighed, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t bring dirt, Jonas. It’s an expression. I’m asking if you are ready to accept that you are wrong.”

“Is this about the vampire thing?” Jonas questioned.

“Glad to know you think there are multiple options of things I can prove you wrong on,” Jack retorted, grinning boyishly. “Listen, this is foolproof. Trust me.”

Jonas did not trust him a single bit. 

He also made the mistake of taking his eyes off Jack for longer than thirty seconds—to have a very nice conversation with Pally’s wife about the lasagna dish she made—when he realised the boy was heading straight towards where you and Nico were sitting on one of the couches in the living room. 

“Oh fuck,” Jonas muttered, his feet already moving in that direction.

“You guys have to try this, it’s my mother’s recipe,” Jack announced as soon as he was in front of you both, extending the plate towards you and ripping the foil off the plate. 

Nico blinked. “Garlic bread?” 

“Yup,” Jack answered happily, popping the ‘p’ a little more because he was obnoxious like that.

“It looks like garlic bread from the store,” Jonas commented, standing by Jack’s side with his hand on his elbow, like he was ready to yank the boy away.

“Rude,” Jack sniffled. “It’s been passed down in my family for years.” 

Somewhere from the other couch, Luke snorted loudly. 

“Try a bit,” Jack insisted, pushing the plate closer towards you. “It’ll taste great with the lasagna. Promise.” 

You looked at the plate of garlic bread with weary eyes before flashing an apologetic smile. “I’ll have to pass this time round, sorry.” 

Jack downright beamed in response. “Is that so?” 

“Don’t want to eat anything too heavy,” you explained, lifting your plate to show the few appetisers you had nibbled on. “You’ll have to bring it to the next dinner though, it smells great.” 

“I am sure it does,” Jack grinned, not getting a chance to say much more before Jonas took pity on himself and Nico’s discombobulated face, dragging the younger boy away from everyone else. 

“Garlic? Really?” Jonas deadpanned once they were far enough away.

“Two-zero, team vampire,” Jack said smugly, picking up a piece of garlic bread and taking a large bite from it. “Just admit I’m right.”

“You need help.” 

…

The next attempt happened a week later. 

You had finally managed to make it to a game—a late game, much to Jack’s delight—and the excitement was clear on Nico’s face. Along with the hint of nerves. But the boys were more focused on the shock of seeing Nico walking into the locker room in a fucking turtleneck. 

“What?”

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Jesper managed to ask, considering the rest of the guys were staring at their captain like he had grown another head.

“It’s stylish,” Nico huffed, rolling his eyes as he ran his fingers along the collar of his turtleneck. “Thought I’d switch it up from the shirt and ties.” 

Timo raised his brows in amusement. “Did your missus get it for you?” 

“Why does that matter? I wanted to wear it,” Nico retorted.

Jack smacked Jonas’ thigh to gain his attention. “Aha!” 

Jonas turned his head. “Aha?” 

“Aha!” Jack repeated, keeping his voice low as he watched Nico from the other side of the locker room. “You know why he’s really wearing it, right?” 

“Because he is whipped?” Nate supplied from the other stall beside Jonas.

“Well, maybe,” Jack murmured, shrugging his shoulders. “Or maybe because he is hiding something.” 

“You need to get a hobby,” Jonas grumbled. 

“Like what?” Nate questioned.

“A bite mark,” Jack whispered with wide eyes.

“Shit, you think she’s making Cap one of her own?” Nate murmured, letting out a breath of disbelief. 

“Or she is feeding from him,” Jack added.

“You both need to get a hobby,” Jonas decided, shoving both of them back to get ready for warmups. 

For what it’s worth, none of them manage to catch a proper glimpse of Nico’s neck before they leave the locker room or even after the game.

…

During a small break between games where the boys were in Jersey for longer than three days, Nico had invited the whole team over for a housewarming party in his new place—the one he was sharing with you.

Jonas had mostly forgotten about the vampire nonsense because Jack hadn’t brought it up in the last few weeks, most of the boys far more focused on the games as they approached the end of the year. They wanted the best chances running into the new year and into playoffs, they wanted to utilise these games whilst their bodies didn’t feel too wrecked and tired. 

It was his own mistake for assuming the season would preoccupy the boy enough to forget it completely.

“Just a heads up, you should probably babysit Jack tonight.”

Jonas’ shoulders tensed slightly as he turned to look at Dawson with a frown. “Why? What is he planning?”

Dawson just flashed him a sheepish smile, shrugging before he quickly went to hide in the corner where Luke and Simon were sitting. 

Jonas let out a deep sigh, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling like some higher being would explain how in loving fuck he managed to be the one to babysit Jack’s vampire shenanigans before he pushed himself off the couch he was sitting on. He gripped the beer bottle in his hand, wondering if it would be worth grabbing another bottle before he started his hunt.

All things considered, it didn’t take long to find Jack considering the apartment itself wasn’t very big. For a second, Jonas thought maybe Dawson was trying to wind him up (it would not be the first time Luke had put the boy up to it). Until he saw Jack thrusting a gift bag towards you.

“Here we go,” Jonas grumbled.

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” you said with a smile, looking so genuinely surprised and touched by Jack’s thoughtfulness.

“It’s just a little something,” Jack shrugged. “Living with a hockey player and all that sweaty gear can be gross sometimes, I thought a candle would be something acceptable and useful.”

Jonas frowned at his wording.

“Oh,” you let out a noise of surprise as you pulled the candle from the bag, blinking a few times too many. “That’s really sweet of you. I’ll just go put this somewhere for safekeeping.”

“Nonsense!” Jack grinned as he reached into the bag, pulling out a box of matches. “We can light it now.”

You let out a slightly nervous laugh. “There’s really no need—” 

“Plus there’s a high chance someone will set their clothes on fire if we have an open flame,” Jonas jumped in, pausing for a moment before he frowned. “Again.”

“You could barely notice,” Jack scoffed.

“Jesper had no pants for the rest of the night,” Jonas retorted before flashing you a smile. “You should probably hide the matches too.”

“On it,” you said with a smile, rushing out the room like you couldn’t leave fast enough.

Jonas shifted his attention to the younger boy. “Really?”

“Vampires hate fire,” Jack explained with a casual shrug. “She’s just proving that I’m right.” 

“You are proving shit,” Jonas grumbled in response, shaking his head. “Stop scaring the poor girl before she gets a restraining order on you.”

“You know I’m right!” 

“I literally can’t think of something I disagree with more.” 

…

Jack Hughes was determined to prove that his captain was dating a vampire. 

He wasn’t like…anti-supernatural or anything like that. He just couldn’t quite seem to understand how some of his other teammates (or well, mostly Jonas) couldn’t see the obvious signs. He didn’t understand how those signs could be so easily ignored. 

Jack wasn’t against vampires by any means, but he watched enough movies and shows to know that not all of them were friendly. He just wanted to make sure you were one of the good ones. Surely, Jonas could see that. 

But instead, Jack found himself trying to prove you were a vampire to Jonas rather than figure out if you were one of the good ones.

In Jack’s humble opinion, the daylight coincidences, the garlic bread situation, the turtleneck fiasco and the candle incident were more than enough to prove his point. There were too many instances where the clues pointed to the obvious for Jack to ignore. 

Jonas seemed to think otherwise. 

And if he was being honest, Jack was tired of the constant doubt. If Jonas wanted proof, then Jack was going to give him proof he couldn’t deny with one of the most well-known facts about vampires. 

They do not show up in photographs. 

It was an old legend, possibly a myth, but one that Jack was banking on being true just to shove it in Jonas’ face—for purely selfish reasons. He had even gone as far as buying an old polaroid camera, gripping the device in his hands as he wandered around Curtis’ house, hoping to find the couple for a quick photo. 

It was New Years, the house was full of people Jack both knew and had never met before in his life and he was thoroughly buzzed from the countless glasses of champagne that had been shoved in his hands since he walked through the door. 

So obviously he was in the perfect condition to expose a vampire. 

Jack stumbled his way up the stairs, muttering a soft ‘fuck’ under his breath when he almost dropped the camera. The music was a little more muffled upstairs, the party a distant thought as he began walking around in hopes of finding you and Nico. 

He was passing by one of the guest rooms when he heard muffled voices and quickly skidded to a stop. He pressed his ear against the door, only to pause when he saw it was slightly ajar. And against his better judgement, he found himself peaking through the small crack. 

Nico was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head hanging as he seemed far more interested in the carpet than anything else. You were stood between his legs, your lips turned downwards as you let out a sigh. 

“C’mon, say it again.” 

“I don’t wanna.” 

“Nico,” you said in a pointed voice, running your hands through his hair before tugging his head back. You tilted your head, watching him closely before he spoke. “Say it again.” 

“I’m your boyfriend and you love me,” Nico murmured.

You raised your brows. “Say it like you mean it.”

Nico huffed out a small laugh but his eyes didn’t look away from you. “I’m your boyfriend and you love me.”

“Atta boy,” you grinned in response. 

However, the moment was ruined by the sound of Jack dropping the camera. Both of your heads snapped around and Jack’s feet didn’t seem to catch the memo to move before he landed flat on his ass, surrounded by pieces of his camera that were completely shattered. 

“Jack?”

Jack let out a shriek, lifting his hands over his head whilst the words tumbled past his drunken lips before he could stop himself. “Please don’t suck my blood!” 

You stood in the doorway, staring at the boy with a confused frown. “What?” 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t see you compel him! Don’t eat me!” Jack continued to ramble, his eyes clenched shut like he was waiting for a hit he knew was already coming, like he was prepared for it.

Nico shifted to stand behind you, also frowning down at Jack. “Compel what?” 

Jack slowly blinked his eyes open to find you both staring down at him with mixed expressions of amusement and concern. He gulped, his logic and common sense thrown out the window in his inebriated state. 

“Uh, her,” Jack stated dumbly as he glanced at you. “She compelled you.”

You blinked. “I what?” 

“Because you’re a vampire,” Jack said, a little bolder than before. 

Your lips parted. “I’m a what?” 

“Jack,” Nico sighed, all captainy and authoritative in a way that made Jack squirm a little in his seat, like he disappointed someone he shouldn’t have. “Why would you think my girlfriend is a vampire?” 

“Because it was obvious!” Jack insisted, scrambling to finally stand up—with the help of Nico reaching out to balance him when he began to sway. 

Nico, who now looked more amused than disappointed, only raised his brows in response. “And how was it obvious?” 

“We never saw her during the day!” Jack blurted out. “It was always at dinners or other night events. Never during the day.”

“Jack,” you said in a soft voice. “I work during the day. I don’t get off until six, and that’s on early days.” 

“Oh,” Jack murmured with a frown. “What about the garlic?”

“You mean the day you tried to shove store bought garlic bread in our faces?” Nico mused, shaking his head. “I told you she wasn’t feeling well. The garlic bread was too heavy, it would’ve upset her stomach.”

“And I’d rather not puke all over my boyfriend’s teammate’s house the first time I’m invited,” you added with a snort.

“The turtleneck?” Jack questioned.

“Like I said, a fashion choice,” Nico huffed, but his cheeks burned a little as he quickly pressed a kiss to your forehead. “And I loved the turtleneck, baby. One of my favourite outfits.”

You snorted in response. 

“What about the candle?” Jack insisted, his brows furrowing together. “You were so against me lighting it!” 

“Because I’m just sensitive to most smells,” you explained with a sheepish smile. “Most candles give me a headache but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings because it was very thoughtful.”

“Oh,” Jack repeated, feeling stupid for what felt like the millionth time in the last few minutes.

“It’s sweet that you were so concerned about Nico dating a vampire that you did all of this,” you added, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze. “Even if you did just wreck your camera.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack murmured, his cheeks burning hot and pink. 

“Anything else you wanna get off your chest?” Nico questioned, watching as the boy blushed even more—if that was even possible.

“Maybe don’t mention this to Jonas?” 

Nico’s lips twitched. “My lips are sealed.” 

“Okay, good,” Jack nodded, swallowing harshly. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to go either sober up or get even more drunk.” 

You snorted in response.

“Sorry once again,” Jack added with a sheepish smile.

You waved him off. “Water under the bridge, Hughes.” 

This was definitely something Jonas would never let him forget when he found out.

…

“Be honest: was that your attempt of causing a distraction so I would forget why we came up here?” 

Nico couldn’t help but let out a laugh as he turned his head to look at you, smiling fondly when he found you already grinning back at him. He shook his head, winding his arms around your waist to tug you closer once he was sure Jack had disappeared back downstairs where the party was.

“You think I had anything to do with that?” Nico teased. “Please, I would know better.”

Your nose scrunched up a little. “I mean, a vampire? Come on!” 

“You would make the cutest vampire ever,” Nico said, laughing when you pinched his hip in retaliation. “Kidding, baby, I would never think you were one of those bloodsuckers.” 

“Damn right,” you huffed before your gaze softened. “Seriously though, before all the Jack stuff, you know it’s true, right? I love you and nothing will change that.” 

“Even your parents prefer your ex-boyfriend over a ‘measly human’?” Nico questioned, trying and failing to keep his voice lighthearted and playful as he repeated your parents’ hurtful words.

“Nico, baby,” you lifted your hands to cup his face, your voice honest and genuine as you spoke. “You’re it for me. I don’t care what anyone says, whether it's my parents being disapproving of me dating a human or your teammates thinking I’m a vampire. I want to be with you, no matter what. It’s you and me, Hischier.” 

Nico didn’t even bother to bite back the grin taking over his face as he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours and letting the tension slip away from his shoulders. “You and me,” he murmured between kisses. 

“Even if I was a bloodsucker?” You teased, something in your chest tightening at the way he smiled against your lips.

“Even then,” Nico mused before pulling away, a completely fond expression on his face. “Lucky for me, my girlfriend is way too pretty to be a bloodsucker.” 

You raised your brows. “Buttering me up, Hishcier?” 

“Just stating the truth,” Nico shrugged, still smiling down at you. “I always thought the werewolves were way cooler when Jack made me watch Twilight.” 

You snorted, shaking your head. “I’m much cooler than those wolves.” 

“Much cuter too,” Nico added, pressing his lips to the crown of your head and beaming when your eyes flashed yellow in response, something like a pleased purr leaving your lips when he pulled you closer.

.

[dreamersworldduh]

HAPPILY EVER AFTER?

• NATE JACOBS x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — Y/N and Nate had finally laid their feelings bare—no more games, no more second-guessing. What started as tension and unresolved emotion had finally unraveled into something real, something honest. Tonight was their first official date, the beginning of something they both hoped would last. What they didn't expect, however, was how quickly that night would shift from simple romance to something far deeper. A night filled with undeniable passion, yes—but also the quiet beginning of a future neither of them saw coming.

Well, maybe not Y/N. Nate? He might've known all along.

WARNING! 18+ MDNI. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing.

WORDS! 16.2k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! Here, we are with the conclusion of HIS AWAKENING series. A bit of a long winded journey but one full of passion, love, fear, acceptance and more emotions Nate Jacobs discovered. Also the ending is sort of my Euphoria S3 hypothesis but more on that later. I’m considering a series following this one—with our lovely couple experiencing adulthood and living together alongside the hardships, of course. Let me know! Enjoy your reading✨🫶🏽

PREVIOUS PART! MY HEART BELONGS TO YOU

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, motionless, his hands resting loosely at his sides as he took in the reflection staring back at him. The dorm room around him was quiet, the soft hum of the air vent barely noticeable over the buzz of nerves in his chest. His breath came slow and deliberate, but his heart was beating with a steady kind of anticipation that he couldn't quite ignore.

The suit he wore wasn't just any suit—it was the suit. A deep, charcoal gray that caught the light with just a hint of sheen, tailored to perfection in all the right places. The jacket hugged his shoulders with clean, crisp lines, the sleeves stopping just shy of his wrists, revealing the slim edge of a white shirt cuff. The lapels framed his chest, giving him a sharp, elegant silhouette, while the fabric tapered at his waist, accentuating the lines of his body with precise, deliberate structure.

It was the kind of suit that made him stand up straighter. Made him feel a little more grounded, a little more seen. The kind of outfit that made a statement—not loud, not flashy, but confident. Intentional.

Y/N adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, then smoothed the front of his jacket, his fingers trembling just slightly. He wasn't usually like this before a date. But then again, this wasn't just any date.

It was Nate.

And that changed everything.

This was their first official night out together. No hiding, no tension disguised as casual conversation, no pretending it didn't mean something. Nate had promised a proper date, and Y/N had held him to it—every sarcastic reminder and raised eyebrow pushing Nate toward something real. And Nate, to his surprise and quiet delight, had risen to the challenge.

A real plan. A real place. A night that, for once, didn't feel like something uncertain and fragile, but like the start of something.

Y/N glanced down at his shoes—polished to a subtle shine—then back at his reflection. His hair was styled just the way he liked it, not too neat, not too messy. He looked... good. Sharp.

But underneath the clean lines and perfect fit, he felt exposed in a different way. Vulnerable. Hopeful.

He caught his own eyes in the mirror and gave himself a quiet, amused smile. "Okay," he murmured under his breath. "Don't let him make you melt in the first five minutes."

Still, he knew—deep in his chest, beneath all the sarcasm and teasing bravado—that Nate wouldn't need five minutes. One look, one compliment in that low, gravelly voice, one of those rare, sincere smiles, and Y/N would be gone.

He inhaled, squared his shoulders, and gave himself one final once-over. This was it. The beginning of them, not in secret, not in silence—but out in the open.

And damn it—he was ready.

The soft creak of the dorm room door pulled Y/N's attention from the mirror. He turned just as the door eased open—and there was Nate, framed in the doorway like he belonged in the center of a movie scene.

He stood tall in a sleek black suit that clung to his broad frame like it was custom-made, the dark fabric crisp and clean, accentuating the hard lines of his shoulders and the long stretch of his legs. A fitted white shirt peeked out from beneath the jacket, the top button undone in that perfectly careless way that screamed effortless cool. In one hand, he held a small bouquet of flowers—simple, understated, but thoughtful. Pale roses and white ranunculus with hints of soft green leaves, elegant and quietly beautiful.

Y/N couldn't help the way his lips curled into a smile at the sight. "Wow," he said, eyes sweeping from the top of Nate's head to the polished black shoes below. "Look at you, trying."

Nate rolled his eyes, but there was a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he stepped inside, holding out the flowers. "For the record, I've always known how to dress. I just don't bother unless it's worth it."

Y/N took the bouquet, brushing a finger gently across one of the petals before glancing back up at Nate. "And I'm worth it?"

Nate leaned in slightly, his voice low and rough. "You're the only one who's ever been."

It was unfair how quickly those words made Y/N's chest warm. He turned toward the desk to find a cup for the flowers, trying to play it cool even as his smile lingered. "You know," he said casually, "you could've just changed in here. It is our room."

Nate let out a snort, pulling at the sleeve of his jacket as he moved deeper into the room. "Yeah, and if I'd stripped down in front of you, we wouldn't be making that reservation tonight."

Y/N froze for half a second before turning slowly to face him again, raising an eyebrow. "Wow," he said, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. "So little faith in your own self-control."

Nate's grin widened, his tongue flicking across his bottom lip—still healing from the fight but somehow making the expression even more infuriatingly charming. "Oh, I have plenty of self-control," he said, closing the space between them. "But not when it comes to you looking like that."

Y/N's breath caught just a little, heat rising up the back of his neck. He gestured to Nate's chest. "You're the one who came in here looking like you stepped out of a magazine spread. That's not playing fair."

Nate's eyes lingered on him for a long beat, and Y/N felt it—felt the weight of his gaze travel from his jaw to the slope of his shoulders, to the perfectly tailored fit of his suit.

"We're both not playing fair," Nate murmured, voice like a low hum between them.

And Y/N—biting back a grin, heart beating just a little faster—couldn't help but think that this night was already off to the perfect start.

THE ride to the restaurant was smooth and quiet, the soft hum of the engine and the faint rhythm of a jazz playlist playing from the speakers of the Uber Black giving the moment a subtle air of luxury. Y/N sat back against the plush leather seat, the city lights flickering through the tinted windows, casting fleeting golds and blues across his suit.

Nate sat beside him, every bit the picture of composure—broad shoulders relaxed, one hand resting casually on his thigh while the other held the edge of the seat, close enough that their arms brushed with every bump in the road. He looked calm, but there was something simmering beneath the surface. Something focused. Intent.

From the moment they stepped into the car, Nate had slipped effortlessly into gentleman mode—and damn if Y/N wasn't enjoying every second of it.

He had opened the door for him without being asked, hand resting gently on Y/N's back as he helped him into the car like they were already halfway through some old-fashioned romance movie. But nothing about it felt performative. It wasn't for show. Nate wasn't trying to impress anyone else. He was just being present.

Every now and then, Nate would glance over at him—subtle, but lingering—like he couldn't quite believe this was real. Like he was still trying to memorize the way Y/N looked tonight, the way the fabric of his suit curved along his body, the slight curl of his smile as he gazed out the window.

"You okay?" Nate asked at one point, his voice low and smooth, breaking the comfortable silence.

Y/N turned his head, meeting his eyes with a faint smirk. "Better than okay."

Nate's lips twitched into something between a grin and a sigh, his hand shifting slightly so that his fingers barely grazed Y/N's. Just a brush, a whisper of touch—but it said everything.

They pulled up to the restaurant a few minutes later, the car slowing to a stop in front of an upscale place tucked between glowing high-rises. Warm, ambient light spilled from the tall windows, the buzz of laughter and clinking glasses drifting out as the host held the door for them.

Nate was out first, circling around to open the door for Y/N again, extending his hand. Y/N raised an eyebrow but didn't hesitate to take it. Nate's palm was warm against his own, fingers curling gently, grounding.

Inside, the restaurant was intimate and softly lit, with dark wood floors, candles flickering in glass holders, and quiet acoustic music playing in the background. The maître d' greeted them politely, already expecting them, and led them to a private corner table where the world felt like it narrowed down to just them.

As they sat, Nate pulled out Y/N's chair, still riding that line between old-school charm and quiet sincerity.

Y/N leaned back once they were settled, his eyes scanning Nate across the flickering candlelight. "Okay," he murmured, voice low and a little amused. "I'll admit it—you're pulling this off better than I thought you would."

Nate arched an eyebrow, but there was a flicker of pride behind his smirk. "Told you I could do the whole 'proper date' thing."

Y/N sipped from his water, letting his foot brush deliberately against Nate's under the table. "Yeah, well. Night's not over yet."

Nate leaned in slightly, eyes gleaming. "Not even close."

And with that, Y/N knew—whatever came next, whatever surprises Nate still had in store, this night was just getting started.

DINNER unfolded like a scene from a movie—low candlelight flickering between them, the soft hum of conversation and clinking glass filling the intimate atmosphere of the restaurant. The food was rich and indulgent, every bite worth savoring, but the real indulgence was the company.

Y/N and Nate sat across from each other in a private corner booth, their knees brushing occasionally beneath the table. Conversation flowed easily between them—light teasing, shared laughter, the casual kind of comfort that only came when you knew someone beyond the surface.

They traded stories from their childhoods over plates of seared steak and roasted vegetables. Y/N found himself animated as he launched into an impassioned rant about an old high school English teacher who took himself way too seriously—complete with dramatic impressions and exaggerated eye rolls. Nate laughed, a real laugh that softened the edges of his otherwise guarded expression, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made Y/N's chest flutter.

But eventually, the energy between them shifted—not in a bad way, just... deeper.

Y/N leaned forward, his voice quieter now. "Alright, your turn. Tell me something about you."

Nate hesitated for half a second, his fork pausing mid-air, before he set it down and sat back in his chair. He exhaled, the kind of breath that signaled he was sorting through which version of the truth he was willing to share.

"I've got a brother," he started, his voice even but laced with something dry. "We're close in that 'we'll-never-say-it-out-loud' kind of way. I call him Asshole. He calls me worse."

Y/N chuckled under his breath. "Sounds healthy."

Nate smirked faintly, nodding. "It works for us."

He went quiet for a moment, running his thumb along the rim of his glass. "My mom and I... we're okay. She's good with advice. She listens, even if she doesn't always get it. But she's closer to my brother than she is to me. I think she sees herself in him more."

There was no bitterness in the way Nate said it—just a kind of quiet acceptance that came from years of noticing but never confronting it.

Y/N tilted his head slightly, watching him carefully. "Still... sounds like she tries."

"She does," Nate admitted. "When things get bad, she's the one I talk to. Doesn't always have the answers, but she helps me make sense of it. Calms me down."

It was when the subject turned to his dad that Nate shifted again. The air around him changed—his jaw tightening slightly, shoulders pulling in. He stared down at his plate, silent for several seconds before speaking.

"My dad..." he began, voice low, barely audible over the soft clatter of dishes around them. "He's... complicated."

Y/N didn't speak. Just waited.

Nate sighed, finally lifting his eyes to meet Y/N's. "He's never been good at... showing anything other than criticism. Growing up, I'd have a great game and he'd still find something wrong. My throwing arm. My focus. My leadership. He'd compare me to other players—ones who 'took it more seriously,' who were 'natural leaders.' Guys he thought deserved the spot more than I did."

He looked down again, his expression unreadable. "I spent years trying to be what he wanted. Trying to meet whatever impossible standard he set. Just to get a 'good job' or a nod."

Y/N reached across the table slowly, his fingers brushing over Nate's wrist. He didn't say anything right away—he didn't have to. The warmth of the gesture, the quiet patience in his eyes, said enough.

Nate didn't pull away.

He let Y/N hold that space with him, let the silence settle in, let it comfort rather than press down.

"I'm sorry," Y/N said softly, his voice full of something gentle, sincere. "You didn't deserve that. None of it."

Nate's gaze flickered to him, something vulnerable in his eyes. For a moment, he didn't speak. Just nodded once, slowly, like the words were still sinking in.

"Thanks," he murmured, the edge of his mouth tugging upward. "For listening."

Y/N squeezed his wrist once before letting go. "Always."

And in that moment, across the candlelight and quiet music, something settled between them—not a promise, not yet. But something solid. Something true.

As the plates were cleared and their drinks refreshed, the conversation between Y/N and Nate began to drift into quieter, more reflective territory. The atmosphere of the restaurant had grown even more intimate as the night wore on—most of the dinner rush had come and gone, leaving behind a hushed calm. Candlelight flickered gently on the linen tablecloth, casting soft shadows across Nate's face as he leaned forward, swirling the last of his drink in his glass.

Y/N sat back in his seat, one leg crossed over the other, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of his water glass. There was a pause in the conversation—not uncomfortable, but thoughtful. It was the kind of silence that invited something deeper, something that reached past the surface-level flirting and shared laughter of the earlier part of the evening.

"So," Y/N said, his tone curious but open, "what happens after this?"

Nate looked up. "After what?"

"After college," Y/N clarified, gesturing lightly between the two of them. "After football. After the routines and practices and school schedules. What then?"

It wasn't meant to be a heavy question, but the weight of it settled between them all the same.

Nate blinked, then looked down at his hands for a beat. "Honestly?" he said, voice quieter now. "I've been trying not to think too hard about it. Football's always been the plan. It's what my dad's been pushing for since before I even understood the game. But..." He shrugged, exhaling slowly. "There's no guarantee. One injury, one bad season, and that's it. You're done."

Y/N nodded slowly, resting his chin on his hand. "So what's Plan B?"

Nate chuckled under his breath, but there wasn't much humor in it. "That's the part I haven't figured out yet. I mean, I could coach. Maybe. I like being around the game. I get how it works, how people work within it. But I don't know if I'd be happy doing it for the rest of my life."

He leaned back in his chair, the candlelight casting golden lines along his jaw. "There's a part of me that just... wants something different. Something quieter. Something that doesn't involve living under a microscope or having to live up to someone else's standards."

Y/N watched him carefully, nodding. "That makes sense. After all the pressure you've been under, it'd be nice to just live for you for once."

Nate looked at him then—really looked at him—and for a moment, the noise of the restaurant seemed to fall away. "What about you?" he asked. "What do you want after this?"

Y/N paused, thinking. "I used to have this really specific idea of where I'd be by now. Career lined up. City picked. Life mapped out by the time I was twenty-five. But lately..." He laughed softly, more to himself than anything. "Lately, I've been realizing it's okay not to have it all figured out yet. I still want something meaningful. Maybe writing, maybe working in media, maybe something I haven't even considered yet. But whatever it is—I just want it to feel mine. You know?"

Nate nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah. I get that."

They were quiet for a moment again, but this silence was warmer, more settled.

Then Y/N added, a little more cautiously, "And... I guess I'd like someone to share it with. Not just for the big things, but the in-between stuff. The boring days. Grocery shopping. Late-night takeout and bad movies."

Nate's lips quirked into a smile. "That sounds pretty damn good."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth curving up. "You saying you see yourself there?"

Nate didn't flinch. "Yeah," he said without hesitation. "If I'm lucky, I'll still have you there too."

Y/N felt the words sink into him like warm sunlight. No pressure, no grand declarations this time—just honesty.

And somehow, that was more meaningful than anything else.

NATE slid his black card across the leather-bound bill folder without a second thought, exchanging a quiet word with the server as Y/N watched him from across the table. There was something almost surreal about it—how composed, how present Nate looked in this moment. No posturing, no calculating glances, no undercurrent of aggression disguised as confidence. Just Nate, in a dark suit that hugged his frame too perfectly for it to be casual, calmly settling the tab for the best meal they'd shared together yet.

When they stepped out into the cool evening air, the night wrapped around them like silk. The sidewalks glistened faintly from an earlier drizzle, streetlights casting golden reflections against the pavement. Nate walked beside Y/N in easy silence, their hands brushing occasionally but not quite clasping—like the intimacy was already understood, no longer something they had to prove.

It was a quiet moment, one that gave Y/N time to think, to let the buzz of dinner and candlelight fade into something softer.

"You know," Y/N said, glancing sideways at Nate with a faint smile, "when I first met you, I knew exactly what kind of guy you were."

Nate looked over at him, brow arching slightly. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." Y/N's voice was even, but there was a sharp edge beneath the words. "You were that guy—macho, angry, always looking for a fight. The golden boy quarterback who thought the world owed him something just for showing up."

Nate's smirk faded into something more thoughtful as Y/N continued, his tone calm but unflinching.

"Pride and ambition so unchecked it was practically eating you alive. You wanted control. Power. Respect. But only on your terms—terms shaped by every toxic, outdated idea of what a 'man' should be. You shoved your feelings down, lashed out at people who challenged you, and wore that ego like armor."

Nate's jaw tensed, but he didn't interrupt.

"And honestly?" Y/N went on, eyes forward now. "You were the embodiment of white privilege. The kind of guy who—because of how you look, where you come from, what you represent—could get away with almost anything. Hell, did get away with everything. You had the face, the name, the performance to make everyone else look the other way."

The silence that followed was heavy but not hostile. Nate took it in.

"But," Y/N added, softer this time, "then you met me."

That made Nate glance over again, brow furrowing—not defensive, but curious. Listening.

Y/N finally met his eyes. "The sassy, smart-mouthed track star who didn't give a damn how many touchdowns you scored or how many people you'd intimidated into silence. I wasn't impressed. And I didn't back down."

Nate's mouth twitched. "No, you didn't."

"And that's when you started to change," Y/N continued, his voice a little quieter, but resolute. "Maybe not all at once, but piece by piece. Like something inside you finally got sick of pretending. Of performing. Of hurting everyone else just to prove you weren't broken."

They stopped at the corner, waiting for the light to change, and Nate looked at him—not as the confident, arrogant player Y/N had once pegged him to be, but as someone still learning. Someone trying.

Y/N stepped a little closer, bumping their shoulders together. "You're still rough around the edges, Jacobs. Don't get cocky. But you're not the same guy I met."

A beat passed.

Nate's voice, when it came, was low but honest. "I don't want to be."

The light turned green.

And the two of them crossed together—step for step, stride for stride.

To Y/N, the night had gone better than expected—way better. Nate had been attentive, sincere, even charming. It was a side of him Y/N rarely saw in public, one that made it harder to remember the angry, tightly wound version of him that used to dominate every interaction.

"So," Y/N said, glancing over at him, "we heading back to the dorm?"

Nate smirked, lips twitching into something smug and a little secretive. "Actually... no."

Y/N raised a brow. "No?"

Nate looked ahead, then back at him, the corner of his mouth curving up. "I got us a hotel room for the night."

Y/N blinked, taken aback—not because it was too forward, not even because it was unexpected, but because it was Nate. This was the guy who once flinched at emotional vulnerability, who bristled at soft moments like they were weaknesses.

And now here he was. Planning ahead. Making space. Thinking about them.

Y/N couldn't help the slow, amused grin that spread across his face. "You really went all out tonight, huh?" he teased, nudging Nate's arm with his shoulder. "Dinner, a suit, flowers, and now a hotel? Damn. Nate Jacobs, are you secretly a sap?"

Nate scoffed, but the tips of his ears turned pink under the streetlight, betraying him. "Don't push it."

Y/N laughed, stepping in front of him for a moment, blocking his path just enough to get his full attention. "No, no—I mean it. This is like, dangerously close to 'romantic movie boyfriend' behavior."

Nate opened his mouth, probably to deny it, to make some sarcastic remark, but Y/N didn't give him the chance.

He leaned in and kissed him.

It wasn't rushed. It wasn't teasing. It was soft, slow, intentional. A kiss full of gratitude, of appreciation, of the quiet awe that came with realizing someone had actually shown up for you—not just with gestures, but with their whole damn heart.

Nate melted into it almost immediately, his hand finding the curve of Y/N's back, steady and warm.

When they pulled apart, Nate was smiling—really smiling, the kind that reached his eyes and softened every line of his face.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, smug now. "You like being a sap for me."

Nate gave a half-hearted eye roll, still grinning. "Shut up."

But he didn't deny it.

And that said everything.

THE soft click of the hotel room door shutting behind them was followed by a quiet hum of luxury—dim lighting, plush carpet, and the subtle scent of something expensive lingering in the air. Y/N stepped in first, his eyes immediately landing on the large, king-sized bed that dominated the center of the room, draped in crisp white linens and a mountain of perfectly arranged pillows.

"Damn," Y/N murmured, dragging his gaze over the bed like it was calling his name. "This is so much better than our lumpy dorm mattresses."

Before Nate could get a word in, Y/N was already moving. He kicked off his shoes, letting them land haphazardly near the door, shrugged off his jacket with a practiced twist of his shoulders, and tossed it onto the nearby armchair. Then, without hesitation, he launched himself onto the bed with a dramatic flop, arms spread wide as the comforter and pillows shifted around him.

"Ohhh," he groaned, face half-buried in the soft bedding. "Okay, I'm never leaving." He peeked one eye open, grinning. "You can just go ahead and cancel my tuition. This is my life now."

Behind him, Nate laughed. That deep, low, real laugh that Y/N loved, the one that only came out when Nate forgot to be guarded.

"You're such a drama queen," Nate said, pulling off his suit jacket with far more care. He walked over to the small wardrobe and hung it up with the kind of methodical attention that was so him, then began rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, exposing the sharp lines of his forearms.

Y/N propped himself up on his elbows, watching with open interest as Nate made his way toward the bed. When Nate reached the edge and looked down at him, there was that look—the one Y/N had come to recognize over the past few weeks. Amused, a little exasperated, and completely, undeniably smitten.

Y/N grinned up at him, his tone playful. "Well? What are you waiting for? You're not seriously gonna let me enjoy this all by myself, boyfriend."

Nate raised an eyebrow, lips twitching with amusement, but said nothing. Instead, he brought his hands to the top button of his shirt, slowly—deliberately—undoing it. Then the next. And the next. His eyes never left Y/N's as he worked, letting the fabric pull open to reveal the smooth, lean lines of his chest beneath.

"Oh, so that's the game we're playing," Y/N murmured, smirking.

Nate gave a slow, teasing shrug as he slipped the shirt off his shoulders and let it fall onto the nearby chair. "Thought I'd give you a little show."

He paused then, fingers resting at his belt buckle, a glint of something darker—playful, confident—in his eyes. "Wanna help me with this?" he asked, voice low and rough around the edges.

Y/N didn't move for a second, just stared up at him with a mixture of amusement and interest.

Then, slowly, with an exaggerated sigh and a devilish grin, he reached forward and patted Nate's thigh.

"Well," he said, voice coy, "since you asked so nicely..."

And just like that, the night took on a new kind of warmth—one that had nothing to do with the hotel lighting and everything to do with them, finally letting themselves sink into something that felt natural, earned, and real.

Y/N reached up from the bed, fingers hooking at Nate's belt buckle with slow precision. His touch was confident, but not hurried—there was a sense of ease between them now, a comfort that had grown naturally from the night's events. He began to undo the belt, the cool metal of the buckle clicking softly under his fingers.

But then he paused, something flickering across his face—mischief. A sudden spark of an idea that made the corners of his mouth twitch into a slow, knowing smile.

Nate noticed immediately. His eyes narrowed slightly, more curious than suspicious. "What?" he asked, though his voice had already dropped a little lower, as if he could feel the shift in the air.

Y/N didn't answer right away. Instead, he slid off the bed in one fluid motion, the soft thud of his knees against the plush carpet barely audible in the quiet of the hotel room. He looked up at Nate from below, that smile still playing at his lips as he settled on his knees in front of him.

Nate's breath caught, his hands instinctively flexing at his sides.

Y/N reached for the belt again, this time with a slower, more deliberate grace. He undid the buckle with practiced fingers, the leather sliding free with a soft whisper. Then came the button of Nate's slacks—undone with a light pop, and the slow, purposeful draw of the zipper being pulled down, the sound unusually loud in the quiet, intimate space between them.

He glanced up through his lashes, catching the way Nate's expression shifted—his jaw tightening just slightly, his eyes darker now, heat blooming behind them.

"You're full of surprises tonight," Nate murmured, his voice low and rough, barely above a whisper.

Y/N's smirk deepened. "You started it," he said simply, his hands resting lightly at Nate's hips, like he was waiting for permission to go further—or maybe just enjoying the way Nate was barely keeping himself still.

The moment stretched, thick with tension and unspoken meaning.

Whatever happened next, it wasn't just about lust or impulse.

It was about trust. About comfort. About them.

And neither of them was in a hurry.

Y/N's touch was reverent, patient. His fingers moved with a quiet precision, curling beneath the waistband of Nate's slacks as though he was peeling away something sacred. The fabric whispered against Nate's skin, gliding over the sharp lines of his hips, past the firm muscles of his thighs, and down to his ankles where they pooled in soft folds around his feet. The room was silent save for the faint rustle of fabric, the air humming with a stillness that felt like the inhale before a storm.

Nate shifted, stepping out of the pants with a silent grace, each movement deliberate, like he didn't want to startle the moment. His hands remained at his sides, clenched only slightly, betraying the tension humming through him. It wasn't nerves—it was anticipation, tightly coiled and quietly trembling.

Y/N didn't rush. He took his time, letting his hands roam upward in a slow, teasing ascent along the backs of Nate's legs. His fingertips trailed like heat across bare skin, the ghost of a touch more felt than seen. When he reached the waistband of Nate's boxers, he paused—his thumbs hooking gently under the edge, his gaze lifting.

Their eyes met.

Nate's stare was steady, but there was a storm behind it—something raw, something waiting to break. Y/N searched his face for a beat, then began to tug the boxers down with an exhale, slow and intentional. The cotton slid over sculpted hips, past his thighs, until they too joined the discarded slacks at his feet.

Nate stood before him now—bare, exposed, and breathtaking. His dick was hard and proud, a testament to the desire crackling between them like live current, but Y/N didn't move. Not yet. He remained kneeling, letting the moment settle like gravity between them.

His eyes roamed upward, from the strength in Nate's legs, over the sharp planes of his abdomen, to the rise and fall of his chest. Every inch of him was inked in shadow and lamplight, beautiful in a way that felt almost unreal. When Y/N's gaze finally reached Nate's face, it lingered—and Nate was already watching him.

Nate's breath came slow and uneven now, lips parted like he was on the edge of a word he couldn't say. His shoulders were tense, but not from discomfort. No—this was something different. He bit down softly on his bottom lip, not from shyness, but to keep himself from letting the need slip too soon, too fast.

There was something unspoken in his eyes—something Y/N felt down to his bones. Trust. Surrender. A quiet invitation that said, I'm yours. I'm letting you see all of me. Not just this—but me.

The soft hush of the room seemed to amplify everything: the subtle creak of the floor beneath Y/N's knees, the steady thrum of blood in Nate's ears, and the thick anticipation curling low in his stomach.

Y/N looked up at him through his lashes, gaze simmering with something deeper than lust—focused, present, and brimming with a teasing kind of devotion. It wasn't just about getting Nate off—it was the way he intended to do it. Slow. Purposeful. Like he knew exactly what power he held kneeling there, and was ready to wield it with devastating precision.

Nate couldn't help the low hum that escaped him, part groan, part awe. The image burned into his memory like something carved in gold—Y/N's hands resting lightly on his thighs, his mouth so close, the heat of his breath ghosting against sensitive skin.

A slow, crooked smile tugged at Nate's lips as he reached down, fingers threading through Y/N's hair—soft, thick, familiar beneath his touch. He stroked once, twice, letting his fingers linger before gently curling them against Y/N's scalp in a quiet, possessive motion. His other hand hovered near his side for a beat, then moved to guide Y/N forward with careful pressure—an unspoken invitation, not a command.

Nate's dick continue to stand hard and ready, flushed with arousal, and when Y/N's lips inched closer, a sharp breath escaped from Nate's lungs. His hand in Y/N's hair tightened just slightly, grounding himself in the warmth, the anticipation, the trust layered in every moment between them.

His voice dropped to a low rasp, barely above a whisper. "Go on, baby..."

And in that moment, every fiber of Nate's being pulsed with need—not just for the pleasure, but for him. For Y/N. The one on his knees, eyes full of intent, ready to give not just his mouth—but all of his focus, all of his fire.

Y/N didn't rush—he never did. There was a rhythm to his movements, a kind of patient artistry that made everything feel deliberate, intimate, like he was crafting pleasure one breath at a time. His lips wrapped around Nate's dick with practiced ease, warm and wet and just the right amount of pressure. He eased forward slowly, taking more of Nate in with each pass, the motion smooth and fluid, like a tide pulling in and letting go.

Nate's hand stayed tangled in Y/N's hair, not forceful, just there—anchoring himself to the sensation unraveling him from the inside out. His head tipped back slightly, a low sound rumbling from his throat as he felt Y/N settle into a steady, controlled rhythm.

It wasn't just skill—it was intention.

Y/N used his mouth like he knew exactly what Nate needed before Nate could even ask for it. His tongue traced patterns along the underside, slow and sensual, before he pulled back with a wet pop, only to sink down again—just a little deeper, a little slower, lips sealed around him like a promise.

Nate looked down, eyes dark with heat, watching the way Y/N moved—effortless and focused, like this wasn't just about getting him off. No, this was about giving, about showing just how well he knew Nate's body. How well he knew what made him gasp, what made his hips twitch forward ever so slightly, what made that sharp breath catch in his lungs like he couldn't quite take it.

There was something devastating in the way Y/N looked up at him while working his mouth around his dick, eyes locked on Nate's face like he wanted to watch every reaction. His lips were slick, glistening, stretched wide—but there was nothing desperate about it. Just controlled, sultry focus that made Nate's thighs tense.

He groaned, deep and broken. "You always know what you're doing to me..."

And it was true.

Y/N had a way with his mouth that Nate knew all too well—had memorized, even. Those lips were soft, wicked, and impossibly precise. Every bob of his head, every swirl of his tongue, was crafted to unravel Nate one breath, one pulse at a time. It wasn't rushed. It wasn't frantic. It was calculated, seductive, maddening in the most perfect way.

Nate's fingers tightened just slightly in Y/N's hair, a silent plea for more, and Y/N responded with a deeper stroke, the wet sound of it obscene in the quiet of the room.

And just like that, Nate knew—he wasn't going to last long. Not with Y/N's mouth on him. Not with those eyes, that patience, that quiet, devastating skill.

Not when he was being worshipped like this.

Y/N pulled back with a slow, deliberate ease, his lips releasing Nate's dick with a wet, audible pop that echoed in the charged silence between them. A thin string of spit stretched from the tip to his mouth, clinging for a beat before dripping onto his chin, glistening in the low light. His breath was warm and unhurried, chest rising with steady control despite the fire simmering beneath his skin.

His lips were swollen, slick, and curved into a knowing smile—lazy, teasing, like he knew exactly what he was doing to Nate. And he did.

Without breaking eye contact, Y/N wrapped his fingers around the base of Nate's dick—firm, steady, possessive. His grip was confident but not harsh, his thumb dragging slowly along the underside as he began to stroke. The rhythm was slow—almost agonizing in its precision. He wasn't trying to rush Nate to the edge. No. He was savoring it. Drawing it out.

Y/N's eyes flicked up to meet Nate's, and what Nate saw there made his stomach clench.

Heat.

Challenge.

Devotion.

And something else—that quiet, wicked spark that lived in Y/N when he was in control, when he was focused. Nate's jaw tightened, his breath hitching as he watched Y/N's hand work him with a rhythm that felt custom-fit to his body.

"You look good like this," Y/N murmured, voice low, laced with heat and amusement.

Nate could barely respond. His entire body was pulsing with want, his muscles taut with restraint. The sight of Y/N—lips wet, chin glistening, hand working him with maddening grace—was almost too much. He could feel the pleasure building again, slow and steady, like a fuse steadily burning toward detonation.

And Y/N just kept smiling.

Smiling like he had all the time in the world to make Nate come undone—one stroke, one glance, one smirk at a time.

Nate's pulse thundered in his ears, his body strung tight with arousal, but even through the heat flooding his veins, he held onto control. Y/N knew how easily Nate could fall apart—how sensitive he was when touched just right, how quickly those soft gasps would turn to moans when pleasure hit hard and fast. But tonight wasn't meant to end quickly. No, tonight was a slow burn. And Nate had a storm of sinful intentions that he planned to unleash across every inch of Y/N's body before the night was through.

His eyes flicked down to the sight of Y/N still on his knees—lips slick, pupils blown wide, his expression a perfect blend of mischief and surrender. God, Nate loved seeing him like that, worshipful and confident all at once. But he wasn't about to let that be the end of it.

With a sudden, fluid motion, Nate reached down and grasped Y/N firmly by the arms, pulling him up in one seamless motion. Their bodies collided—chest to chest, heat meeting heat—as Nate's hand slid to the back of Y/N's neck and pulled him into a kiss that was anything but gentle.

It was hunger, pure and unfiltered.

Mouths crashed together, lips parting with ease as tongues tangled in a rhythm that left no room for doubt—Nate wasn't just kissing him; he was claiming him. The taste of him, the way he melted into the kiss, only fueled the fire raging under Nate's skin.

Nate's fingers fumbled with the buttons of Y/N's shirt, tearing them open one by one, revealing the smooth expanse of warm skin underneath. He didn't bother taking it off cleanly. Instead, he shoved the fabric off Y/N's shoulders, letting it slide down his arms, baring him inch by inch.

The shirt dropped to the floor like a forgotten whisper as Nate's lips left Y/N's mouth and found their way to his neck.

He didn't hold back.

He dragged his lips along the curve of Y/N's throat, teeth grazing just enough to tease before he latched on and sucked hard, leaving the first of many hickies blooming against flushed skin. Y/N gasped at the contact, fingers digging into Nate's waist, his breath hitching with every mark Nate made.

Nate smirked against his skin, dragging his mouth lower, trailing kisses down to his collarbone before moving back up to press another bruise behind Y/N's ear. Each hickey was deliberate—a brand, a warning, a memory.

His lips grazed tender spots he knew by heart—behind the ear, just under the jaw, the place where neck met shoulder—each kiss a mix of softness and claiming pressure. His teeth followed in places, nipping just hard enough to make Y/N shiver, and when a low moan escaped from Y/N's throat, it only fueled the hunger roaring beneath Nate's skin.

As his mouth moved, Nate's hands followed suit, sliding down the smooth planes of Y/N's torso with purpose. One hand found the metal teeth of Y/N's zipper and slowly pulled it down, the sound harsh in the silence of the room, almost obscene. The pressure eased, and Nate wasted no time in pushing the pants down, fingers curling into the waistband and dragging the fabric over Y/N's hips.

The trousers slipped easily past Y/N's thighs, gliding down his legs until they pooled at his feet in a forgotten heap. Nate's hands returned, now touching with more urgency—one sliding around to palm the swell of Y/N's ass, squeezing firmly, possessively. His grip was hot, rough with want, fingers digging into soft flesh like he was claiming territory he already knew was his.

His other hand moved forward, fingers grazing over the front of Y/N's boxers, where the fabric strained over his arousal. Nate let out a low, satisfied hum, his palm pressing against the obvious outline of Y/N's dick. He rubbed slow, deliberate strokes over the sensitive length, feeling how hard and eager he was through the thin cotton.

"You're already this hard for me?" Nate murmured into Y/N's skin, his voice low and full of dark amusement, lips brushing against the newest hickey blooming on his neck.

Y/N's breath hitched, hips twitching forward into Nate's touch instinctively, a quiet gasp breaking free from his lips. And Nate drank in every reaction—every subtle shift in Y/N's body, every breathless sound—as if it were his favorite song playing just for him.

Nate's thumb dragged along the tip through the boxers, applying just enough pressure to make Y/N moan again, louder this time.

The fabric was damp now—proof of how much Y/N wanted him.

And Nate had every intention of making him beg as his hand moved in a slow, torturous rhythm over the front of Y/N's boxers with practiced ease. The thin fabric did nothing to dull the sensation—if anything, it heightened it, making every pass of Nate's fingers feel hotter, heavier. Y/N's breath had grown shallow, his body pressing forward, hips subtly rocking into the pressure, seeking more.

But Nate didn't give more—at least not yet.

Instead, he leaned in, lips brushing the shell of Y/N's ear as he whispered, voice smooth and laced with wicked amusement.

"So sensitive already," he murmured, letting his thumb circle right over the head through the fabric. "You're aching for me, aren't you? I can feel it."

Y/N let out a shaky breath, hands curling slightly against Nate's chest as a low groan escaped him. Nate smirked, letting his teeth graze the edge of Y/N's jaw before pulling back just enough to look him over—shirtless, flushed, lips parted in anticipation. Absolutely stunning.

But this wasn't just about teasing.

Not tonight.

Tonight was about something deeper—heat, yes, but wrapped in care, in connection, in the slow-burning intimacy of being truly seen.

Nate's expression softened, the teasing glint in his eyes giving way to something warmer. He dropped his gaze and slid his fingers beneath the waistband of Y/N's boxers. Slowly, reverently, he eased them down, his knuckles brushing against Y/N's dick as he freed it from the soft cotton. It bounced free, thick and already leaking, the head flushed a deep shade of red.

Nate exhaled through his nose, almost like he was grounding himself at the sight.

"Beautiful," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

The boxers fell the rest of the way to the floor, leaving Y/N fully exposed, and before he could even react, Nate's hands slid down, cupping the curve of his ass with both palms. He squeezed firmly—possessive and grounding—then pulled Y/N flush against him in one fluid motion, their skin colliding with a soft slap of heat meeting heat.

Y/N's dick pressed against Nate's abdomen, leaving a smear of precum in its wake, and Nate relished the sensation—the warmth, the weight of him, the way their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces long meant to align.

He pressed his forehead to Y/N's, their breaths mingling, hands still holding him close.

"No more barriers," Nate whispered, voice low and full of promise. "Just us."

Nate's lips found Y/N's again, the kiss slow and deep, full of warmth and want—a quiet promise wrapped in heat. His hands held Y/N's face gently at first, thumbs brushing his jaw as their mouths moved together with practiced rhythm. There was no urgency, just intensity, like Nate wanted to savor every second their lips touched.

Without breaking the kiss, Nate began to guide him backward, one hand sliding down Y/N's chest, fingers dragging lightly across heated skin. He nudged him gently toward the bed, their bodies moving as one, until the backs of Y/N's legs met the edge of the mattress.

Nate broke the kiss just long enough to whisper, "Lie back for me."

Y/N obeyed without hesitation, sinking onto the bed with a soft exhale, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. His hair splayed out across the pillows, and the warm, low lighting painted golden highlights across his bare skin. He looked flushed and stunning, completely at ease beneath Nate's gaze.

Nate followed immediately, climbing on top of him in a slow, fluid motion, like a panther stalking its prey—but this wasn't about conquest. It was reverence. Devotion. Desire wrapped in affection.

He started with a kiss just above Y/N's navel, lips parting against warm skin. Then another, just below the curve of his ribs. He trailed upward with purpose, kissing a slow, sensual path across the dip of Y/N's stomach, to his sternum, to the center of his chest. Each kiss lingered, lips warm and open, tongue occasionally flicking out to taste as Nate moved higher.

His hands roamed as his mouth did—one splayed across Y/N's side, fingers tracing along his ribs, the other dragging down his thigh, grounding them both in the closeness of skin-on-skin.

Y/N's breath hitched with every kiss, every stroke of Nate's mouth. He arched slightly, instinctively, offering more of himself as Nate made his way up his body.

Then Nate reached his neck.

He kissed along the curve slowly, lips brushing the sensitive skin beneath his ear, then down to the hollow of his throat. One kiss turned into two... then three. His mouth opened slightly, and he sucked gently at a spot just below the jaw, pulling a low moan from Y/N's lips.

"You taste so good," Nate murmured against his skin, his voice thick, almost dazed with hunger.

Y/N's hands found Nate's back, fingers digging in lightly as if to hold him closer, to anchor himself in the pleasure.

And Nate continued his worship—mouth, hands, body pressed fully to Y/N's now—letting every kiss say what words never could.

Nate then leaned over Y/N, the heat between their bodies humming like a live current. The air in the room was thick with anticipation, every breath shared between them drawing deeper, heavier, more electric. His eyes never left Y/N's face—flushed, lips parted, eyes dark and waiting. There was no mistaking the trust there. The want. The silent plea: I'm yours. Take your time, but don't hold back.

With a breath through his nose, Nate brought his hand to his mouth, his gaze never wavering. He slipped two fingers between his lips, coating them thoroughly with saliva, his tongue curling around them, slow and deliberate. It wasn't just about readiness—it was about intent. Preparation as a form of care, of promise. And the way Y/N's breath hitched at the sight made a thrill run down Nate's spine.

When his fingers were slick, he pulled them free, dragging them slowly past Y/N's hip and down between his thighs. Y/N shifted instinctively, spreading his legs further, opening himself up with a quiet vulnerability that made Nate's chest ache.

Nate's hand was gentle as it reached him, the pads of his fingers brushing lightly over the sensitive skin around Y/N's entrance. He didn't push in right away—he took his time, circling the rim with slow, teasing passes, watching the way Y/N's body twitched under the attention.

"You okay?" Nate murmured, voice low, rough with restraint.

Y/N nodded, a breathy, "Yes," slipping past his lips, already trembling with need.

At that, Nate gently pressed one finger inside, his pace unhurried, letting Y/N's body adjust to the intrusion. The tight heat of it made his breath falter for just a moment, but he focused—this was about Y/N, about preparing him the way he deserved.

Once his first finger was buried to the knuckle, he moved with care, curling slightly, then withdrawing just a bit before pushing in again. His other hand rested on Y/N's thigh, grounding them both, thumb drawing soft circles into his skin.

Then, after a moment, Nate eased the second finger in beside the first.

Y/N gasped, his back arching slightly at the stretch, but Nate stilled, offering him time, whispering soft encouragements against his skin.

"That's it... you're doing so good for me."

He began to move then, fingers sliding in a slow, deliberate rhythm—scissoring gently, stretching him open bit by bit. The wet sounds between them were subtle but unmistakable, and every time Nate brushed against that spot deep inside, Y/N's breath would stutter, his hands fisting in the sheets.

Nate watched it all unfold—the way Y/N's thighs trembled, the way his mouth fell open in helpless pleasure—and he knew, without a doubt, that the night was just beginning.

He reached forward, hands wrapping firmly but gently around Y/N's ankles, lifting and spreading them apart with care. He guided Y/N's legs upward, bending them slightly as he held them in place, exposing everything to him. Y/N looked back at him through half-lidded eyes, breath shallow, chest rising and falling with growing anticipation.

Nate's dick throbbed, already flushed and slick, the head glistening with precum. He guided it down with one hand, brushing it against the cleft of Y/N's ass before settling it at the entrance—already open, stretched, warm and glistening from the prep.

The pink tip met Y/N's hole with a teasing nudge, and both of them let out quiet, involuntary breaths at the contact.

Nate leaned in slightly, adjusting his grip on Y/N's legs as he whispered, "You ready?"

Y/N nodded, voice soft, breathy. "Yes... please."

That was all Nate needed.

He pressed forward, slow and controlled, letting the head of his dick breach Y/N's entrance with practiced ease. The heat of it wrapped around him immediately, tight but yielding, welcoming him in inch by inch. Y/N's body opened for him like it was meant to—slick and ready, no resistance, just the wet slide of Nate easing deeper inside.

A groan rumbled from Nate's chest as he sank in further, his fingers tightening slightly around Y/N's ankles. The feeling was intoxicating—Y/N was so warm, so tight, the way his body clung to every inch made Nate's head fall forward briefly, eyes fluttering shut to focus on the overwhelming sensation.

Y/N moaned softly beneath him, lips parted, his back arching just enough to shift the angle and let Nate slide in deeper. The sound only made Nate's pulse pound harder in his ears.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity drawn out in heartbeats and shallow breaths, Nate bottomed out—his hips flush against Y/N's, buried to the hilt. He paused there, breathing hard, taking it all in—the warmth, the closeness, the intimacy of being joined like this.

Y/N looked up at him, eyes glassy, mouth curved in a lazy, satisfied smile. "Perfect," he whispered, voice hoarse.

Nate leaned in, kissed the inside of his ankle, and murmured, "We're just getting started."

He held still for just a moment longer, letting them both feel the full weight of it—of him. His hands remained steady around Y/N's ankles, keeping his legs open and spread as he drank in the view beneath him. Y/N was breathtaking like this—completely bare, flushed from head to toe, chest rising and falling with soft, eager breaths, lips slightly parted in anticipation.

Then, slowly, Nate began to move.

His hips pulled back, just enough for the thick slide of his dick to drag along every inch of Y/N's stretched heat, and then he pushed forward again—sharply, with purpose, but never rough. It was a sensual rhythm, a deep, grounded thrust that had Y/N gasping softly, his fingers gripping at the sheets, eyes fluttering shut.

Nate set a deliberate pace—measured, focused. He wasn't chasing release. He was savoring this. Savoring him.

The room filled with the soft, rhythmic sound of skin meeting skin, the wet heat between them singing with each deep push. Nate's thrusts weren't rushed or frantic—they were intimate, sensual, meant to make Y/N feel every inch of him. Every slow retreat, every smooth return, every angle carefully aimed to make Y/N shudder beneath him.

"God... you feel so good," Nate breathed, voice rough and low, full of reverence and something deeper—something that felt like the start of something real.

Y/N looked up at him, eyes hazy, lips trembling with a quiet moan as he whispered back, "So do you... Nate..."

That single sound—his name on Y/N's lips—made Nate's heart thrum in his chest. He leaned forward, shifting his grip from Y/N's ankles to the bend of his knees, folding him gently as he pressed their bodies closer together, never breaking the steady rhythm of his hips.

Tonight was special.

Their first date—hours earlier—had been perfect. Laughter over dinner, soft looks exchanged beneath city lights, hands brushing together until they finally linked. And now, here they were, tangled together, connected in every way. Nate didn't want to rush any part of this. Not the way Y/N sighed his name. Not the way his body welcomed him so willingly. Not the way their souls seemed to align with every shared breath.

So he thrust with care—deep, slow, sensual strokes that made Y/N gasp and squirm and melt beneath him. Each push forward was a promise.

I want more of this. More of you. This isn't the end of the night—it's just the beginning.

And as Nate bent down to press a kiss to Y/N's lips—gentle, slow, but burning with intensity—he whispered, "First date or not... I'm not letting you go."

His thrusts remained steady, deliberate—each one rolling through Y/N's body like a wave of heat. The tension between them was thick, electric, humming with that delicate balance of restraint and rising need. Nate was in no rush. He was building something—moment by moment, breath by breath—letting Y/N feel the full weight of his presence with every slow, sensual drive of his hips.

Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, a harmony of breath and skin and want.

But then something shifted in Nate's eyes.

A flicker of deeper hunger. Of closeness not yet close enough.

Without a word, he adjusted his posture, his hands sliding away from Y/N's knees—fingers trailing along flushed skin until they found the dip of his waist. His grip tightened, firm but full of care, fingers pressing into the warm flesh of Y/N's hips as he pulled him forward in one fluid, controlled motion.

The effect was immediate.

Y/N gasped as his body was drawn flush against Nate's, Nate's dick plunging deeper, reaching places inside him that made his back arch and his hands claw helplessly at the sheets beneath them.

Nate groaned low and sharp at the sensation—the tight heat of Y/N's body taking him in so completely, so perfectly, it nearly shattered his focus. His thumbs dug into the hollows of Y/N's hips, holding him there, keeping him exactly where he wanted him—close, stretched, trembling.

"Just like that..." Nate murmured, breath brushing across Y/N's thigh as his thrusts deepened, each one slow and strong, driving into him with a sensual power that left Y/N panting. "You feel incredible."

He rolled his hips again, dragging his dick almost all the way out before sinking back in—deeper now, thicker, filling every inch of Y/N's body with practiced ease. The wet sounds between them were soft but lewd, mingling with the quiet creak of the bed and Y/N's broken moans.

Y/N's legs wrapped instinctively around Nate's waist, trying to anchor himself, to pull him even closer. Nate's hands remained firm, guiding his body with each thrust, his fingers digging in just enough to mark the moment on his skin.

Every move was deliberate. Every stroke meant to say: I'm here. I'm with you. And I'm not stopping until you fall apart in my arms.

And in that moment—full of heat, connection, and deep affection—Nate's grip tightened just slightly as he pulled Y/N in again, dick buried to the hilt, and whispered against his skin,

"I want you to remember this... every inch of it."

The pleasure between them was no longer a low hum; it had become a steady current pulsing through every point of contact. Y/N's body rocked beneath him, supple and open, breath catching with every deeper thrust.

Then Nate leaned down, closing the space between them, and captured Y/N's lips in a kiss that was equal parts heat and tenderness. Their mouths collided—wet, open, breathless. Nate's lips moved over Y/N's with urgency now, not rough, but hungry, like he needed to taste him just as badly as he needed to feel him.

The kiss was messy in the best way, mouths parting only to draw in quick, shallow breaths before reconnecting again. Nate swallowed every moan Y/N gave him, every broken gasp that slipped through the seam of his lips each time Nate's dick drove a little deeper, a little harder, right into that spot that made Y/N tremble beneath him.

Nate groaned lowly into Y/N's mouth, the sound vibrating against Y/N's lips, and the way his body tightened in response was everything. His hands slid from Y/N's waist up his sides, then back down again—touching, gripping, grounding them both as his hips began to thrust faster, more insistent now, but still intimate.

Their kisses turned into panting exchanges between moans—hot breaths mingling, lips brushing, then colliding again.

Y/N's fingers tangled in the short hair at the nape of Nate's neck, holding him there, needing that kiss just as much as the rhythm of his body moving inside him.

Nate broke away only briefly to whisper against Y/N's lips, his voice ragged with heat, "You sound so fucking good... every time I push into you."

Y/N moaned again, head tipping back slightly as Nate thrust harder, deeper, the angle just right to drag a cry from his throat.

Nate chased it—with his hips, with his mouth, with everything he had.

And with every kiss and every thrust, it became more than just pleasure—it was something raw, something consuming.

It was them.

Nate's rhythm deepened into something urgent—something primal. The slow, sensual pacing from earlier had transformed into harder, more powerful thrusts, each one hitting deeper, sharper, as his need to push Y/N closer to the edge took over. The sound of their bodies colliding filled the room in rhythmic bursts—wet, heavy, and unmistakably raw. The slap of skin on skin echoed off the walls, a lewd symphony of movement and mounting pleasure.

Sweat clung to Nate's skin, his muscles flexing with every snap of his hips, but his focus never wavered from Y/N—flushed, panting, writhing beneath him. Every gasp, every moan that spilled from Y/N's mouth only pushed Nate further, igniting the fire that blazed in his gut.

He shifted slightly, angling his body just enough to press even deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside Y/N with unrelenting consistency. Y/N's fingers twisted in the sheets, knuckles white, mouth open in a string of broken sounds that barely formed words.

Then Nate's hand slid between them, slick and sure, wrapping around Y/N's dick with practiced ease.

His palm was hot, fingers stroking in tandem with the rhythm of his thrusts—tight, fast, just the right amount of pressure. The dual stimulation made Y/N arch off the mattress, a desperate cry tearing from his throat as his eyes fluttered shut.

"That's it," Nate growled, his breath ragged as he leaned over him, hips slamming forward with more power. "Let go for me... come for me..."

Y/N's body was trembling, teetering on the edge, his dick leaking freely into Nate's hand, thighs quivering around Nate's waist.

Nate's own climax was building fast now—the coil tightening low in his spine, the burn in his legs, the desperate pulse of his dick as it drove deeper and deeper. Every thrust was a chase, a promise. His grip on Y/N's dick pumped faster, matching the pace of his hips.

The slap of skin meeting skin filled the air, mixing with the gasps, moans, and the steady creak of the bed beneath them. The whole room felt drenched in heat and breath and tension, building to that one inevitable explosion they were both racing toward.

And Nate wasn't letting go until Y/N shattered first—until he felt Y/N's body clamp down around him, pulling him over the edge with him.

Suddenly, Y/N's breath caught in his throat, his entire body going rigid as a powerful wave of heat surged through him. His dick twitched violently in Nate's grip—once, twice—before thick ropes of hot release spilled out, painting Nate's hand and Y/N's own stomach in slick, glistening strands. The pleasure hit him in full force, dragging a moan from his chest that echoed through the room, raw and broken.

His thighs trembled as his body arched off the bed, every nerve lit up, his mind momentarily blank with the sheer intensity of his climax. His walls clenched tightly around Nate's dick as the aftershocks rippled through him, milking every inch with pulsing contractions that nearly made Nate lose control right then and there.

Nate's eyes dropped to the sight—Y/N panting, spent, flushed and utterly wrecked beneath him, and his own hand slick and glistening with Y/N's release. He groaned low, his jaw flexing with restraint, and without pausing in his steady, powerful thrusts, he brought that hand up between them.

He stared at it for a brief moment—Y/N's cum glistening across his fingers—before he wrapped his lips around them, one by one, tongue curling between each digit as he sucked the evidence of Y/N's climax off with slow, deliberate motions. His eyes never left Y/N's face while he did it, gaze smoldering with heat and satisfaction.

"You taste just as fucking good as you feel," Nate rasped, voice low and frayed with arousal.

Still driving into him with steady, punishing thrusts, Nate used his now-clean hand to grab Y/N's hip again, anchoring himself as he chased his own release. The tight clutch of Y/N's body around him, still fluttering from orgasm, only pushed him closer.

His thrusts became erratic, hips jerking forward harder, deeper, fueled by the sounds of Y/N's breathless moans and the memory of his taste still lingering on Nate's tongue.

And as the heat at the base of his spine exploded into blinding pleasure, Nate knew—he wasn't just coming apart inside Y/N.

He was falling, completely.

Nate's pace faltered for just a moment—his hips stuttering as the heat coiling in his lower abdomen finally surged forward, threatening to overtake him. He groaned, low and guttural, his entire body tightening as the climax crested fast and hard. The way Y/N's body still clenched around him, hot and slick from release, only drove him faster toward the edge.

"Fuck—Y/N," he hissed through gritted teeth, pulling back in one swift motion.

His dick slipped free with a wet sound, flushed and pulsing, and he wrapped his hand around the base just in time. A second later, he came—hot, thick spurts spilling out in heavy waves across Y/N's stomach, streaking across flushed skin in glistening ropes. His breath came in sharp gasps, hips jerking with each pulse as he released all over Y/N's trembling body.

He hovered there for a moment, breathing hard, his chest heaving with the aftershocks as he watched the way his seed marked Y/N—on his belly, his skin slick with sweat and release, looking utterly wrecked and beautiful beneath him.

But Nate wasn't finished.

Once the tremors in his muscles settled and his breath began to even out, he lowered himself again—slow and intentional, like gravity was drawing him back to Y/N. His fingers trailed lightly across Y/N's abdomen, tracing through the warm mess he'd left behind. Without hesitation, he brought those same fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a low, appreciative hum, eyes locked on Y/N's the entire time.

The taste, the intimacy, the act—it was raw, deeply sensual. Intimate in a way that wasn't just about sex. It was about closeness. Comfort. Trust.

Then Nate leaned in, catching Y/N's jaw with one hand, and kissed him—deep, slow, and messy. His tongue parted Y/N's lips easily, sharing the taste of their bodies, the heat of the moment, everything they'd just poured into each other. The kiss was lazy but lingering, a slow drag of mouths pressed together in the afterglow of something that felt a hell of a lot like love in its earliest, hungriest form.

"You're perfect," Nate murmured against Y/N's lips, still tasting him.

And in that moment, with their bodies spent and tangled, nothing else mattered.

THE hotel room had fallen into a deep, comforting stillness—the kind of quiet that only came after passion had given way to peace. The energy that had once crackled between them like a live wire now pulsed gently, muted and warm, blanketing the space in something that felt far more intimate than lust. The echoes of earlier moans and whispered names still lingered in the air, but they'd softened now, replaced by the steady rhythm of two people simply being—together, vulnerable, real.

Moonlight filtered in through the sheer curtains, casting a cool, silvery wash over tangled sheets and bare skin. The soft hum of the city below was distant and blurred, like background music to a moment that no longer belonged to the outside world. In here, everything was slower. Softer. More sacred.

They were sprawled in the center of the bed, limbs entwined in the kind of closeness that didn't require movement or words. The sheets were twisted around their legs, pillows scattered and forgotten. Skin pressed to skin—warm, bare, breathing in sync.

Y/N lay curled against Nate's chest, his cheek resting just over Nate's heart, where the steady beat grounded him like an anchor. His fingers traced lazy, mindless shapes across Nate's stomach—lines, circles, nothing with purpose except the act of touch. Of knowing Nate was real. Still here. Still his.

Nate had one arm cradled around Y/N's back, his hand stroking along the slope of his shoulder in slow, soothing motions. The other arm was bent behind his head, but his attention wasn't drifting. He was fully present, eyes lowered to Y/N, watching the way his lashes fluttered now and then. The way his lips parted when he sighed, like something sat just behind his breath, waiting to be spoken.

And Nate knew that look. He knew Y/N's silences better than anyone.

So he didn't ask. He didn't rush.

He just waited.

Until finally, Y/N stirred. He shifted slightly, head tilting up so he could see Nate's face—bathed in moonlight and softened by the aftermath of everything they'd shared. His usual edge, that quiet confidence that framed his every move, had melted into something quieter. Something tender.

Y/N studied him for a moment, like he was gathering the courage to crack open a door he'd kept closed for too long.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said, "I never said it back."

Nate blinked, lifting his head from the pillow, brow furrowed—not with confusion, but with the kind of tension that came from knowing exactly what was coming and needing to hear it anyway.

"Said what?" His voice was soft, coaxing, careful.

Y/N's eyes didn't waver. They held Nate's with full vulnerability, nothing hidden, no guards left standing.

"That I love you."

The words hung in the space between them like a held breath—quiet, unscripted, but alive with meaning. They didn't need music, didn't need candles or the perfect timing. They were perfect, because they were true.

Nate stared at him for a long moment. Not in disbelief—he'd known. He'd felt it in the way Y/N kissed him, the way he looked at him when he thought Nate wasn't paying attention, the way he gave himself without hesitation even when his heart was full of questions.

But hearing it—really hearing it—was something else entirely.

A slow, tender smile broke across Nate's face. Not smug. Not cocky. Just full. Full of relief. Of joy. Of something deep and reverent.

He brought his hand up from Y/N's shoulder, cradling the back of his head and pulling him closer, holding him like something precious.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear that," he whispered, his lips brushing Y/N's temple.

Y/N smiled into Nate's chest, nuzzling closer, his voice small but content. "I think I did. I just... needed to be sure."

Nate leaned back just enough to look into his eyes, his thumb brushing along Y/N's cheek. "You're sure now?"

The teasing note in his voice was gentle, affectionate—just a spark of playfulness between the weight of truth.

Y/N nodded, his gaze unwavering. "Yeah," he said, voice firm, clear, steady. "I'm sure."

And with that, Nate exhaled—a long, slow breath that seemed to release everything he'd been holding inside.

"Good," he said softly, pulling Y/N against him again. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

The words weren't grand. They didn't need to be.

They were everything.

And as they lay there, chest to chest, hearts beating in time beneath the silver wash of moonlight, the world outside faded into silence. No noise. No rush. Just two souls finally settled into place—wrapped in warmth, surrounded by stillness, and grounded by the kind of love that didn't need to be chased anymore. It had already been found.

FIVE years later, the world around them had shifted—new cities, new routines, new pressures—but Nate and Y/N remained unmistakably, stubbornly them. The sharp banter, the relentless teasing, the dramatic debates over who actually started the laundry but never finished it—all of it had endured. The difference now? That chaos existed within something lasting. Something they had built brick by brick, through sweat, sacrifice, and the kind of love that doesn't waver when the real world presses in.

Their relationship had ripened into something steady, rich with the quiet depth that time brings. The kind of bond forged not just in kisses and soft touches, but in choosing each other—over and over—on the days when life was loud, when tempers flared, or when exhaustion settled into their bones. They had learned how to bend without breaking, how to speak in silences, how to apologize with a look and forgive with a touch.

After graduation, they'd closed the chapter on dorm rooms and late-night campus strolls, trading them in for a cozy apartment nestled on the fourth floor of an old brick building in the heart of the city. It wasn't fancy—no doorman, no pristine granite countertops—but it was them. The exposed brick walls were scattered with framed photos from their college years, game nights with friends, and polaroids of them brushing their teeth together, half-asleep. The large windows welcomed in soft morning light that bathed their mismatched furniture in gold. And the scent—part Nate's warm cologne, part Y/N's vanilla-amber candles—had, over time, become the smell of home.

Y/N had gone pro—not just a rising star on the track, but a name that fans now chanted in stadiums across the country. His days started early, filled with grueling workouts and relentless travel schedules. But no matter how far he flew or how many medals he brought home, he always returned to Nate with tired eyes and a content heart. There was never a moment too small for them—a shared takeout dinner on the couch, brushing their teeth side by side, curled up watching reruns with feet tangled beneath throw blankets.

Nate had made it into the league, too. Drafted to a team that didn't just want his arm—they wanted his mind, his drive, his fire. He'd become a cornerstone on the field, not just for his performance but for the kind of leadership that demanded respect. He still had that signature edge, the one that first made him electric—but it had been softened by love. By Y/N. He was still intense, still passionate, but now he was grounded. No longer just playing to win, but playing for something more—for the life they'd created, the future they were building.

They supported each other like clockwork. Nate brought home flowers on Y/N's recovery days—sunflowers when he was happy, tulips when he wasn't saying much. He never made a big deal of it, just placed them in the chipped vase on the kitchen table and kissed Y/N's cheek like it was any other Tuesday. Y/N, in turn, left notes in Nate's gear bag—ridiculous puns, inside jokes, or scrawled confessions of how proud he was. Nate pretended to groan about them in the locker room, but he kept every single one folded in the bottom drawer of his nightstand.

Their home was lived in and loved through—medals on the mantle, cleats by the door, half-solved crossword puzzles on the coffee table. A slightly lopsided bookshelf—assembled during one of Nate's I got this weekends—leaned a little too far left but never fell, much like their love.

And no matter how fast the world spun—no matter the away games, endorsement deals, media pressure, or long-haul flights—they always found their way back to each other. To that apartment. To that bed with the faded sheets. To the kind of love that made Sunday mornings sacred—waking late, limbs tangled, coffee forgotten on the nightstand as they stayed wrapped in each other just a little longer.

They still fought. Still flirted like it was the first night. Still laughed until one of them snorted. They were older now, wiser in some ways, but still wild about each other.

They hadn't changed much.

But they had grown into something extraordinary.

And five years later, they were still, irrevocably, in love.

THE locker room was alive with noise—booming voices, the clatter of cleats against tile, showers hissing open in the background, and the ever-present stench of sweat, turf, and testosterone. It was the kind of chaos only a professional football team could generate after an intense practice—bruises half-forgotten, adrenaline still thrumming, teammates laughing too loudly about fumbled plays and near tackles that had turned into unexpected highlights.

Towels were tossed like missiles across the room. Jokes were shouted from one end to the other. Someone had queued up music from a portable speaker, the bass heavy enough to rattle the metal lockers.

But Nate Jacobs was in his own world.

He sat at his cubby near the back wall, stripped halfway out of his uniform, methodically peeling off the soaked fabric of his jersey and shoulder pads with the ease of habit. His muscular frame glistened with a post-practice sheen, his skin flushed from exertion, veins prominent down his forearms and neck. Every movement was deliberate—no wasted energy, no rush. His breathing had slowed, and though his body was fatigued, his expression was relaxed. Grounded.

This was not the Nate Jacobs of five years ago—the one who let pressure wrap around his spine like barbed wire, the one who snapped first and thought later, who mistook rage for resolve.

This Nate was quieter. Not soft—he was still fire when the game called for it—but he'd learned how to wield that fire differently. With purpose. With control.

His jaw, once always tight with tension, now relaxed with a subtle curve. His brows didn't knit together like they used to. His hair—shorter now, neatly edged with curls just beginning to reform around his temples—still held the faint dampness from where his helmet had pressed it flat. Y/N called it his "good boy" haircut. Said it made him look like a reformed heartthrob who finally paid off his student loans and started therapy. Nate had rolled his eyes at the time, but the memory made him smirk now.

He reached into his locker, brushing past the usual post-practice clutter: a towel slung over a protein bar he hadn't touched, a pair of joggers, half-drunk water bottle, neatly stacked gear. At the very back, nestled between his backup cleats and a roll of wrist tape, sat his phone.

It lit up the second his fingers grazed the screen.

There it was.

Y/N's face filled the lock screen—his lips exaggerated into an obnoxious pout, hoodie draped around his shoulders, hair messily fluffed up like he'd just rolled out of bed. The image was ridiculous and endearing, taken in a flash of morning light that made his skin glow and his eyes sparkle even beneath the theatrics. It had started as a joke selfie. But Nate had never changed it.

Because every time he looked at it, his chest tugged in that quiet, aching way it always did when it came to Y/N.

He unlocked the phone.

A text sat waiting at the top of his notifications.

Y/N: Don't forget, babe—dinner's on me tonight. You just show up hungry and pretty.

Nate huffed a soft laugh through his nose, thumb tapping the screen to reply.

Nate: Always.

But before he could close it, another message buzzed in.

Mom: Reminder: pick up your brother tomorrow for dinner tomorrow. Don't make me text Y/N to make sure it happens.

He groaned, rolling his eyes—but with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He sent a quick reply, "We got it. Don't worry." Then shoved the phone back into his locker.

Around him, the team was still loud—someone was trying to argue that they hadn't technically stepped out of bounds, another guy was recounting his impossible catch like it belonged in the Hall of Fame. The music kept thumping.

But for Nate, it all dimmed into background static.

Because in his mind, he was already gone from here.

He was already walking through the front door of their apartment, greeted by the smell of something warm on the stove. Already kicking off his shoes while Y/N hummed off-key in the kitchen, arms waving in chaotic rhythm to whatever music he had playing. Already imagining the soft press of a kiss, the sound of Y/N's voice teasing him for being late, the heat of two bodies curling on the couch after dinner—tangled in each other, sharing silence that didn't need to be filled.

This life—their life—wasn't always perfect. It was messy, loud, full of stubbornness and laughter and late-night grocery runs. But it was real. Built with hands that had once only known how to push people away, now creating something worth holding onto.

And as Nate leaned back against the cool metal of his locker, muscles sore, hair damp, heart full—he knew one thing with absolute certainty:

He wouldn't trade it for anything.

THE front door creaked open with a low groan, the hinges announcing Nate's return like an old companion. A beat later, the familiar clink of his keys landing in the shallow ceramic bowl by the entryway echoed through the quiet apartment. It was a sound Y/N had grown to love—one that said he's home, no matter how late it was or how long the day had dragged on.

Nate's path through the apartment was a breadcrumb trail of exhaustion. His cleats were the first to go, kicked off just inside the door. His gym bag came next, thudding softly to the floor near the hallway. Then his jacket, half-draped over the back of a chair, the sleeves still warm from his body heat. Every discarded item was a silent testament to the grueling practice he'd just survived—his way of peeling off the day piece by piece until only the man remained beneath the armor of sweat and routine.

His body ached—thighs burning from endless sprint drills, shoulders sore from too many tackles, fingers bruised from one-too-many helmet grips—but it didn't matter. None of it did. Because the moment he stepped through that door, he wasn't the quarterback anymore.

He was just Nate.

And more importantly, he was home.

The scent of something warm and savory teased at the edges of his senses, pulling him forward like a thread. Garlic. Maybe thyme. Something rich and bubbling. It wrapped around him like a blanket, easing the stiffness from his bones better than any ice bath ever could. He followed it straight to the kitchen, drawn by more than just hunger.

There he was.

Y/N stood at the stove, barefoot, wearing one of Nate's old college T-shirts—the faded navy one with the cracked logo and the stretched-out collar that hung just a little too wide around the shoulders. It swam on him in the most perfect way, clinging to his back, barely covering the curve of his thighs. He was humming—terribly off-key, as always—completely unbothered, spoon in hand as he tasted whatever simmered in the pan with a soft, pleased hum.

Nate's stomach growled loudly in protest, but he barely noticed. He was too busy watching him.

"Greedy," he muttered under his breath, a tired smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Y/N didn't turn, but his response came immediately, tone full of teasing edge. "If you were home on time, you might've had first dibs."

Nate rolled his eyes—but he wasn't interested in the food. Not yet.

The distance between them evaporated in a few long strides. He came up behind Y/N and wrapped his arms around him without hesitation, sliding his hands beneath the oversized shirt to rest against warm skin. He pressed his chest firmly into Y/N's back, his face tucking into the crook of his neck with a deep, contented sigh. The contact was immediate, grounding. The heat of him bled through their skin like they were two halves snapping back into place.

Y/N froze for a fraction of a second, then let out a soft, knowing laugh. "You're disgusting," he said, even as he leaned back into the embrace without hesitation, spoon still in hand.

"Yeah," Nate murmured, voice muffled against his shoulder, "but I missed you."

And he meant it.

Not just in the casual, throwaway way people toss around after a long day—but with the weight of someone who'd spent hours pushing his body to the brink, aching for this exact moment. The kind of missing that clung to his chest and softened his spine the second Y/N was within reach.

Y/N turned his head, just enough to catch Nate's face in the corner of his vision. His hair was damp, curling at the edges, plastered to his forehead. His eyes were half-closed, features slack with that rare kind of quiet Nate only ever showed here. With him.

Y/N's teasing faded into something softer. "I missed you too."

Nate's arms tightened, just a little—like if he could press their bodies closer, he'd never have to leave again. His breath was warm against Y/N's neck, his hands splayed possessively across his stomach. Everything about him screamed exhaustion, but underneath it was something fierce. Devoted.

They stood there in silence, swaying slightly in the glow of the under-cabinet lights, the room smelling of roasted garlic and something baking in the oven. The world was still loud outside—coaches and deadlines and blinding stadium lights—but in here, it was just the rhythm of shared space, the quiet pulse of love wrapped in domestic stillness.

Because love, as they'd both come to learn, wasn't just grand gestures or perfect timing.

It was sweaty jerseys clinging to sore muscles. It was missed dinners and back hugs. It was laughing over bad singing and kissing someone who smelled like turf and body wash and home.

And it was always, always worth it.

Nate let out a groan in protest as Y/N peeled out of his arms, the warmth of his body slipping away too soon for his liking. His forehead dropped briefly to Y/N's shoulder, a dramatic sigh puffing against the fabric of his shirt. Still, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, amused by how quickly Y/N was trying to squirm out of the clinginess he'd clearly missed.

"Come on," Y/N said, shooting him a playful look over his shoulder as he nudged him lightly in the ribs. "You smell like a locker room and a grudge. Go shower before I lose my appetite entirely."

Nate rolled his eyes, reluctant but amused, his arms still looped around Y/N's waist like they were magnetized there. "Only if you join me," he said, voice low and teasing, a familiar spark flashing through the exhaustion in his eyes.

Y/N huffed a short laugh, shaking his head as he tried to duck out of Nate's hold. "You always say that like I'm the one who needs convincing." He turned back toward the stove, but not without tossing a glance over his shoulder. "Fine. Go warm the water. I'll be there once I make sure you don't burn down dinner."

That earned a small, smug grin from Nate, who he leaned down, cupping Y/N's jaw gently with one hand and pressing a kiss to his lips. It wasn't rushed or hungry—just slow, tender, full. A kiss that carried the weight of a long day and the comfort of coming home. It lingered for a moment longer than necessary, until Y/N sighed softly against his mouth.

Then, with one final brush of his thumb across Y/N's cheek, Nate turned and headed down the hallway, already tugging his sweat-dampened shirt over his head, revealing the broad stretch of his back as he disappeared around the corner. The sound of the bathroom door creaking open was followed shortly by the rush of running water, muted but steady, like another quiet heartbeat in the apartment.

Y/N watched him go with a fond shake of his head, a quiet smile tugging at his lips as he turned back to the stove. He lowered the heat beneath the pan and gave its contents a stir, the aroma of garlic, rosemary, and seared meat wrapping around him like the softest blanket.

The apartment was full of warmth—physical and emotional.

From the simmering dinner on the stove to the faint sound of water running in the bathroom, from Nate's footsteps padding down the hall to the knowledge that this was their life now. A shared rhythm. A house full of softness and sarcasm, of long days and quiet nights, of missed moments that always found their way back to each other.

He didn't say it aloud, but as he leaned on the counter and took in the familiar scent of home and the quiet comfort of being wanted, Y/N knew—this was everything he'd ever hoped for.

Y/N moved slowly down the hallway, the soft pads of his bare feet sinking into the familiar rug beneath him, still warm from the lights left on in the apartment. The aroma of dinner still lingered in the air—garlic, rosemary, something distinctly home. The sound of running water drifted faintly from the bathroom, the steam beginning to seep into the hall like a gentle beckoning.

He was headed toward the bedroom, ready to join Nate in the shower, but something made him pause halfway down the corridor.

The gallery wall.

It was subtle, tucked along the inner hallway just before the bedroom. Not grand or overly decorated—just a series of framed snapshots arranged in an uneven but personal rhythm. And even though he passed them every day, tonight they tugged at him with quiet insistence.

He stopped.

His eyes roamed over the photos, fingers grazing one of the wooden frames, and for a moment, the sounds of the apartment faded into the background.

There they were—versions of him and Nate from the last five years.

One photo showed them in their college graduation gowns, caps crooked, Nate's tie half-loosened, Y/N sticking his tongue out while Nate tried to pretend he wasn't smiling.

Another: a candid from their first apartment, Y/N curled on the couch with a book, and Nate fast asleep beside him, mouth slightly open, a bowl of popcorn balanced precariously on his chest.

There was one from Nate's first pro game—Y/N in the stands, screaming with a face painted in his team colors, caught mid-cheer while Nate stood in the background, sweaty and grinning, reaching up to wave to the stands. That moment had been a blur, but somehow, the camera caught everything.

Then came a photo from a quieter moment: the two of them on a trip upstate, wrapped in scarves, leaning against a wooden fence with mist-covered hills behind them. Nate's chin was resting on Y/N's shoulder, and both of them were smiling like they had nothing else in the world to worry about.

Y/N's chest swelled.

Every frame told a story—not just of time passing, but of growth. Of how far they'd come, from the tension-filled standoffs of early college days to the easy domestic rhythm they now lived in.

He lingered there for a moment longer, lips curling into a soft, private smile.

In the bathroom, he could hear the shower running still, the faint thud of something hitting the tile—probably Nate knocking over a bottle in his usual chaos.

Shaking his head fondly, Y/N finally pushed off the wall, continuing his walk down the hallway, toward the bedroom, toward the man waiting for him.

But as he passed the final photo—one of them on the couch, tangled together in sweats, smiling like the world had finally made sense—he whispered under his breath, "Yeah. We've done okay."

Just as Y/N reached for the bathroom door, warm steam curling out from beneath the frame, a knock echoed through the apartment. He paused mid-step, brows furrowing. It was late—too late for visitors, and they weren't expecting anyone.

Another knock followed, firm but not aggressive.

With a soft sigh, Y/N turned on his heel and made his way back through the hallway, padding barefoot across the hardwood floor to the front door. He glanced through the peephole, his brows knitting together tighter as he took in the sight of a woman with long blonde hair, holding the hand of a young boy who couldn't have been more than six.

Confused, Y/N unlocked the door and pulled it open cautiously. The woman's face was familiar in a way that made something uneasy settle in his gut.

"Hi," she said, voice delicate, uncertain. Her eyes flicked up to meet his. "I'm looking for Nate Jacobs."

Y/N blinked, taking in her features—blonde, wide-eyed, nervous—and then looked down at the boy beside her. He had Nate's eyes. That same sharp jawline forming, the same messy dark brown hair. The resemblance was unmistakable.

"I'm Cassie," the woman added, swallowing hard. "Cassie Howard."

Y/N's heart skipped. He knew that name. Nate had mentioned her in passing once or twice—old history, he'd called it. Drama long buried under years of silence.

Y/N stepped back, stunned but composed enough to call out down the hallway. "Nate! You've got... someone at the door."

From the bathroom, Nate's voice called out, teasing and unaware. "They better be delivering champagne or you better be naked!"

Y/N didn't respond. He just kept his eyes on the woman and the boy.

Then came the sound of wet footsteps slapping against tile, the distant hum of the shower cutting off. A towel rustled. A door opened.

Moments later, Nate rounded the corner, shirtless, a towel slung low around his waist. The grin on his face faded the second he saw who stood in the doorway.

"...Cassie?" His voice was low, shocked. "What the hell—how did you even—" He glanced at the kid, his words faltering, unraveling.

Cassie's eyes softened. "Your mom. She told me where to find you." She reached down and gently squeezed the boy's hand. "And I wouldn't have come if it wasn't important."

Y/N stood off to the side now, his heart pounding, trying to piece together the math, the silence, the way Nate was staring at the boy like he'd seen a ghost.

Cassie took a deep breath. "I thought it was time you met your son."

The words hit the room like a thunderclap.

Nate's expression went blank, his towel-clad form suddenly very still. "My... what?"

Y/N felt the air leave his lungs. He looked at the boy again, really looked, and the resemblance slammed into him all at once.

The same eyes. Same mouth. Even the way the kid stood—defiant, guarded, familiar.

Cassie looked between them, her voice barely a whisper now. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how else to do this. But he's yours, Nate. And he's asking questions. And I just... I thought you should know."

Nate couldn't speak.

Y/N stepped back, his hand finding the edge of the wall for balance as the weight of the moment crushed down around him. The dinner. The laughter. The promise of a quiet night in each other's arms.

Gone.

So much for a happy ending.

[etherealily]

𝕊𝕀ℕ // ​🇳​​🇦​​🇹​​🇪​ ​🇯​​🇦​​🇨​​🇴​​🇧​​🇸​

My other Nate fics. If you have the time.

No one seemed to like the cliffhanger, so here's a draft that I converted into a bonus chapter.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. NSFW. Drugs. Contains brief explicit content. MDNI for this part alone. Closest thing to sm*t I've ever written (and will write).

Part 1 : Whiplash Part 2 : 9 Lives Part 3 : Blessed Part 4 : Shards Part 5 : Eighteen

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

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Nate had never been more pissed in his life. Ever. You'd blatantly disobeyed him. Well, not technically. No technically, you hadn't been told anything, but he'd have figured you weren't so dense as to go and visit Shane motherfucking Crestin in the motherfucking ER !

Honestly. It's like you had one braincell and all it told you was to piss him off.

And fuck him. He definitely saw that in your eyes the last time.

Or was that the molly?

Probably the molly.

But whatever. The fact was, you wanted to fuck him, and he wanted to fuck you, and he had no idea why you wanted him out of your life if that was the case. Wasn't that fate? Two people want something so bad, they should end up doing it, no? Not going and visiting the reason they couldn't do it in the ER.

Yeah, he decided.

Yes. They. Should.

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He'd figured you would avoid him like the plague, anyway. So he didn't care if it reached you or not that he was helping McKay host a party. So imagine his surprise when, after about two months of no contact, you showed up at his party.

"Whoa."

You frowned. "Excuse me?'

"What happened to 'get the fuck out of my life, Nate?' What, were you just full of it?"

"Dude. If me being here bothers you that much, I'll just fucking leav-"

"Jeez, don't be a baby, short stuff.", he cooed, patting your head before slinging an arm around you. "C'mon, let's do shots."

"Hey, whoa, whoa, none of this friendliness."

He rolled his eyes, removing his hand from you. "Fine. C'mon. I missed you."

And the problem was, he did. He actually fucking missed you. Which was the weirdest thing to happen to him since... well, birth. It wasn't anything in particular, it wasn't even the fact that you were easy on the eyes.

He, like a fucking simp, just liked you being around him.

With as much trepidation as a sycophant scorned by his master, he gently, reverently, offered you a shot. "For old times' sake?"

You rolled your eyes, taking it from him. "For old times' sake? Like, the time you got me drunk at school?'

He smiled, his hand slowly back around your shoulder as he tugged you closer, kissing your temple. "We could always go back, y'know?", he murmured next to your ear. "Get high on the bleachers again."

"No."

"C'mon, we haven't hung out in two months. Ditch these fakes. I'm the fun one, anyway."

Jesus.

He took a long drag of his vape, the smoke bombarding your face. He proferred it to you and frowned when you declined. "Why not?"

"I don't vape."

"Are you one of those bitches that says 'smoke a real cigarette'?"

"No, I don't smoke at all."

He rolled his eyes. "We're going to the bleachers."

It was weird, to say the least, the air between you two back at the bleachers. You sat, looking up at the sky, the grass, anywhere but his eyes, and he sat with his head on your lap.

Silence covered the two of you until he sighed. "Can we just pick up where we left off?"

"And where was that?"

"With me almost eating you out."

You scoffed. You wouldn't have done that if you thought he was being serious. You wouldn't have done that if you were entirely sober. But you didn't and you weren't, so you scoffed. "Right. Yeah. Sure."

"I'm not joking. You're making this harder than it needs to be. There isn't any ulterior motive, this is just... boy meets girl. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy-"

"Debatable.", you muttered, but he ignored it.

"-Boy wants to fuck girl, girl wants to fuck boy, boy fucks girl. Why are you adding shit? Do you want drama? Is that what this is? Because we could do drama. I could do drama like you've never fucking seen before!"

In Nate speak, that meant he had a big dick and he wanted you to know.

"Look. It's just too complicated. You've- there's too much-"

"Forget it all. 'Kay? Just you and me.", he replied immediately, sitting up.

"Because you quote-unquote 'love' me."

"Exactly that." His lips found yours, and surprisingly, this time, you actually had a spine and pulled away.

"What the FUCK?"

Huffing, he rolled his eyes and stroked your cheek as he shifted and knelt down. "Can we skip the part where you scream 'what the fuck, what the fuck' and push me away and get to the part where you admit you want me? I've had a long day."

Seeing him down there did nothing to make you feel safer.

"Nate-"

"Jesus fuck, Y/N, please, just, for the love of god-", he muttered, as if you were being an inconvenience at the moment and not him, the asshat on his knees. "Would you just relax?"

"Look, Y/N. I love you.", he said, and his hands slowly slid up to the hem of your shirt, his thumb rubbing the skin right under it. "Let me show you."

"You don't love me. Stop saying that."

"Fine, then. I want you. And stop telling me you don't want me, like it's a mortal sin or something.", he warned, gripping the backs of your thighs.

Sadly, you couldn't entirely blame this on the molly this time.

It definitely contributed to the decision, but mostly to the fact that it made every single touch of his explode with a robust... flavour that you couldn't replicate even if you tried.

He smiled up at you so softly you'd think he was on his knees to propose. But no. Instead of opening up a little box, he opened the fly to your pants.

"Can you look at me, please?"

You sighed, looking down. "What?"

"You really don't look like you're against this. I'd even go so far as to say you want me, but you're too much of a pussy to admit it."

You did want him. BUT. You were against this. Because it was wrong. But you were letting him kiss up your thighs, bite at your lower abdomen.

Meaning it was the world according to Nate and it both infuriated you and turned you on.

FUCK.

Hums came from both your mouth and his, and before you knew it, your fingers felt nothing but the locks of his hair, pulling so hard there was no way he wasn't in pain. And he must have been, because gently, so seamlessly, he trailed his hand up to yours, removing it from his hair and interlocking it with his own.

But he didn't pause. His tongue continued doing... well, whatever the hell it was doing that made you want to stab the Earth for being able to produce Nate Jacobs as well as praise it for... well, being able to produce Nate Jacobs.

"You're a virgin?", he asked, breathless, raising a brow in incredulity.

You'd be lying if you said your brain even registered his question - registered anything but his tongue and lips.

"Are you a virgin?"

"Why? Don't tell me this is still a test to see if I'm easy or not-"

"It's not.", he assured, reaching up slowly, and then kissing your cheek of all fucking places. One of his hands trailed back down and into you while the other one immediately closed your mouth, though you had no idea why. It was a fucking desolate high school football field. No one was going to hear anyway.

He grinned, pressing his forehead against yours as he added another finger, curling them as he worked into you. "Shh, shh, shh.", he murmured, after probably feeling the results of you trying not to lose your shit beneath his palm.

"See? We go great together."

You screamed. But it didn't quite carry.

He frowned in confusion for a moment when you made a muffled noise and then muttered an 'ah' as he gently removed his palm from your mouth.

"That's not..."

"Hm? That's not what?"

You could have killed yourself right there, because he smirked is what he did. He smirked when you couldn't finish (and barely even start) your sentences.

"That's not even remotely..."

You were stalling. That was clear. Why? You didn't know. There was no logical reason. He was already fucking inside you, there was no point in backing out of this now.

But there was reason to hesitate.

He sighed, licking his lips and shaking his head in disappointment, brushing hair from your face. "Hey."

"What?"

"If you don't fuck me right now, I will lose my shit. I will cut myself. I will play Russian Roulette again. That work for you?"

Oh, this sick, sick, sick, SICK motherfucker.

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Why you did it? Question for the ages.

You should've said no. You should've gone home. You didn't go home, though, not even after the fact. You probably should have.

Instead, you found yourself back at Fezco's store. Not voluntarily, either, it just seemed your car was as drained as you were, and you forgot to fill it back up.

"Rue?", you called out into what you imagined to be an abyss. Her voice appeared like light at the end of a tunnel. "Hey."

"You high?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I need someone to pick me up."

"Maddy's not free?"

"I didn't check."

"Well.", she groaned, shifting around, clearly in some sort of drug-induced discomfort, "You should. I don't wanna kill you, y'know, you mean so fucking much to me."

The sarcasm in her voice was mildly hurtful, but hey. At least she cared enough not to kill you.

More than Nate had ever cared.

"Okay."

So, of course, you called Cassie. Because no fucking way were you calling Maddy to come pick you up from the store owned by the local dealer, which was suspiciously close to the party thrown by her ex.

The car ride with her was smooth and lovely and peaceful. Because she was smooth and lovely and peaceful.

"You think your car will be safe, out there, all night?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I told Fez. He knows what to do."

"Y/N, I... I've noticed you've been off, like, the last term or so."

You did not need her therapy session right now.

"Nah, I'm fine."

"You're not.", she chuckled, nervously, shaking her head as she slowed down at the red light. "You seem on edge. I think it's cause of him."

"Him?" WHAT? How the fuck did this ditz know?

"Yeah. Like, I don't know, maybe you're in love with him, and you think it's, like... forbidden, because he's a bad influence or something, but you just kinda look... strung out. Like there's a huge secret you're keeping."

She was supposed to be clueless about what was going on around her. Isn't that the thing they say about hot blondes?

"Love? In love? With who?"

"Fezco, of course. I get it, he's a dealer, but he's also hot, and I guess, let's face it, he's quite nice for a criminal."

Oh, thank god. The dumb blonde theory stands.

"I'm not in love with Fez."

"Then why are you so... off?"

"I...", you sighed, deciding to stick to the truth as much as safely possible. "I got in with some bad people during spring break."

The look of concern on her face made you want to apologize and buy her whatever she wanted, or maybe even confess to every fucking sinful thought you'd ever had.

"What? Oh, my god, what? Like, hard drugs and shit?"

"More like guns and shit."

"Y/N, WHAT?!"

"Yeah, it was fucked up, but I'm out of it now, though, so you don't have to worry, okay, Cass? I'm peachy. I'm great, honest! Hey, it's turning amber."

She frowned, turning back to the road in front of her. "You sure?"

You'd never been more grateful for Nate throwing the lamp to your right rather than your left.

You'd never been more grateful for Nate giving you a hickey on your right rather than your left.

You nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, though."

"So. Did you... you went to his party, right? Did you see him? Did you guys talk?"

It took you a moment to figure out that she was talking about her ex.

"McKay? Yeah. Yeah."

"How is he? Did he mention me?"

"He's, um... he's doing fine, I guess. He looks like he misses you, but you know him. He probably won't tell me."

"I just... maybe we... I just want to, um... fix things."

"You should."

"You think?"

You nodded. What the fuck else could you do to distract her from the fact that if she took one look down, she'd see Nate blowing up your phone? "Yeah, you guys were great together."

You instantly cringed. Because that was what Nate had said about you and him. "See? We go great together."'

"I don't know if I want him back, or what. What do you think?"

That I just fucked Nate Jacobs. And that the molly was only half of it. That I'm going to kill myself.

"I think... I think you broke up for a reason, Cass."

She nodded, and the rest of the car ride went in pleasant silence.

Then she dropped you home.

And Rue was waiting for you.

════════════════════ ⋆🚩⋆ ════════════════════

"You're pissing me off. What is this, blackmail?'

"Yeah. It is. I saw you two in the bleachers, and if you tell people I'm not sober, I'll let it slip that you let Nate Jacobs inside you."

Keep your calm. If you show even a tiny sign of accepting that she was right, you're dead meat. "It was a psych project. He had just finished a practice, so we sat there and finished some work."

"With tequila?"

Silence. Okay. She was not talking about tonight. She was talking about the gun-night. This was salvageable.

"Funnily enough, Y/N, according to what Lexi told me, there's been no 'psych assignment-slash-project.'"

"Rue-"

"So you've not only been lying to all of us, you've been betraying Maddy. And you've done Jules so wrong.'

"Look, you don't even know-"

"Then tell me."

So you did. You told her about the Instagram story, you told her about the Russian roulette, hell, you even told her about the dinner and the scar. What you didn't tell her about was the sex. The mind-blowing guilt-inducing sex.

"But I saw you kiss him on the bleachers."

"I was drunk, Rue. I'd have let the fucking janitor kiss me."

"Look, Y/N, those are my terms."

"You're asking me to lie to everyone about your health, your wellbeing! We're all looking out for you, Rue! Y'can't just blackmail me into not doing right by you."

"As nice as that is, the fact still stands that you fucked Nate."

FUCK!

"Rue, please-"

"He doesn't even fucking want you. He wants to get back at Maddy, and you're too fucked out to see it!"

"Rue, you're crossing the li-"

"I bet that fucking him was the only thing you've been doing this whole time. What, did you fuck him when Maddy was with him?"

Rue laughed after you slapped her and that definitely told you she was so high she couldn't even feel it. "C'mon. Grow up.", she scoffed, tucking hair behind your ear. "Girl code's not important anymore, is it? We're all eighteen - adults - now."

WHY must everyone always do that with your hair? So fucking condescendingly, too?!

"Rue, I didn't fuck Nate Jacobs."

"Then why is he blowing up your phone? Yeah, you think I didn't notice the name on your screen?"

"He blows up my phone because he's a psycho- I told you about the Russian Roulette thing and the gun and the slit wris-"

"Yeah, but you said you asked him to leave you alone and he did. Why would he break no contact? What could've happened?"

"Rue, I am not going to help you fake sobriety in front of your family- I- Rue, what is that?"

She frowned, looking down and following your line of sight. Her bag. The front zip. A needle. She looked back up, deadpan. "Fent."

"RUE! YOU CAN'T EXPECT ME T-"

"Look, Y/N, I like you, I do. There's no reason for you to worry, okay? If you could be quiet, your life will go on as it always does. No reputation loss, no guilt, no embarrassment."

"This will kill you! I can't do that to you, Rue, please!"

"But you can do Nate Jacobs?"

You were genuinely about to strangle this fucking trapper cunt.

"Think about it."

What, had she gotten lessons in blackmail from him?

════════════════════ ⋆🚩⋆ ════════════════════

That night, you were too fucking exhausted to even question why Nate was knocking at your window. You just opened it for him. You just let him kiss you. You just let him tuck your hair behind your fucking ear.

"I have a question."

"What?"

"Did you visit Shane in the hospital?"

Okay. No way he could have found out about that. You didn't tell a single fucking soul.

"Huh?"

"I beat him up for you. 'Cause he was saying you fucked when you didn't.", he said, his voice oddly calm for a man betrayed.

"I didn't ask you to!"`

"Please.", he scoffed, clapping sarcastically. "Biggest cop-out of the century."

"I didn't!"

"He was calling you a slut, basically. As if you'd just give it up to anyone." What, like he knew you that well?

"Hundreds of people say hundreds of shit about me every fucking day! What am I, supposed to set you on them?"

"You could."

You scoffed.

"I'm being serious. You could say "'sic 'em' " and I'd beat them to a bloody pulp.", he informed, brushing hair over your ear again. "Say it. Tell me someone to beat up. I'll do it. No matter who it is."

"Nate. I didn't ask you to do any of this. I asked you to leave me alone, and you did the opposite!"

"You're acting like I showed up, fucked you, and then just left!"

He clenched his jaw, his grip on the piece of hair he just pushed behind your ear, now shifting to the rest of your hair. "No, cunt. I said 'I love you'. Or did you conveniently forget that?"

Oh. Right. THAT.

"What? You're suddenly acting like a pussy, baby, what's up with that? Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't remember. Don't be a pussy. C'mon, tell me. Oh, yeah, wait a minute, you can't."

"You didn't mean that. You wanted to get what you wanted, so you-"

"You think I say shit like 'I love you' lightly? You think I throw that word around?" Yes, he did, but you didn't need to know that. He decided to deploy the trauma card.

"You've seen what my parents are like. You think I'd abuse the words 'I love you'?"

"I guess not-"

"Yeah. EXACTLY."

Ooh, you were putty in his hands and he almost got a semi because of it.

"Look, okay, fine, Nate, that- that was out of pocket, but you can't expect me to-"

"But I do. I have never lied to you. Have I? I've blackmailed you and threatened you and, fuck, yeah, I've stuck a goddamn gun down your throat, but when have I ever lied?"

"So you're saying you 'love' me and I have to just accept it."

"I'm saying I love you, and you have to just believe it.'

And god help you, you somehow did.

"Rue's blackmailing me."

He mock-gasped. "You're cheating on me, then."

You couldn't help the chuckle that left your lips. Him being so calm in the face of danger should make him look foolish in your eyes, not admirable.

And the molly excuse was being held up by string the breadth of dental floss, honestly.

"Does she use firearms as well? Did you think about me the whole time?" He was clearly trying to make you laugh, and it was working.

He kissed your forehead. "What did she blackmail you for?"

"For or about?"

"Both."

"For : keeping her relapse a secret from everyone. About : the gun-night at the bleachers."

"Okay, so the choice is clear."

"What?"

Nate Jacobs had scared you when he'd said he loved you and when he'd said he'd kill himself for you, but he'd never scared you as much as he did with what he said next.

"We just sit back and watch that bitch OD."

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

you never knew how much i really liked you - s. crosby

summary: 'In truth, it wasn’t nothing – it was never nothing with Sid. It was always something, and usually it hurt. The timings; what wasn’t said; the history. There was more to the two of you than what even Nate and Taylor knew of – not even when they seemed to stop breathing when you admitted what it could be.'

warnings: sid x f!reader (ex-hockey player), swearing, miscommunication trope, mentions of the consumption of alcohol, bonus point if you spot the unintentional olivia rodrigo lyric, mentions of food aversion (in relation to illness & hints at anxiety), passing mentions of someone potentially having alcohol poisoning, confrontation

< a/n: the ending is abrupt but i can't be arsed changing it! sorry! ALSO: IT'S PENS PRE-SEASON DAY!! >

word count: 13k

 There was a chair, this time. They’d never been a chair there before, ever. You’d been to this house and you’d sat on the end of the deck with your feet hanging over the edge countless times in the last decade or so, but there had never been a chair there before, at least not one that didn’t have to be dragged from inside and unfolded. 

It didn’t particularly strike you as odd or anything, but it did stop you in your tracks at the top of the deck, and you did try to see if you could see him through the windows of his house, but it was early so the sun only reflected against the glass panes, completely blocking your view. But you’d seen his car in the driveway, and you knew he’d be up – probably eating his breakfast or in the gym already.

You gripped your book a little tighter, making your way towards the end of the pontoon and assessing the chair with your own eyes. You almost laughed at the blanket draped across the back of it, but it didn’t stop you from picking it up and covering yourself with it after you got settled.

It was a lovely morning, it always was here, and it was partly why you loved arriving earlier: there was something about the crispness of the sun in the morning and the rawness of the view. It wasn’t one you could ever imagine getting tired of. The water was gorgeous, the trees were gorgeous, the sky was gorgeous, the birds were gorgeous. As usual, it took you a while to work yourself up to actually pick up your book and tear your attention away from the view.

It was a muffled bark that finally did it, your fingers absent-mindedly playing with the pages of the book, and you turned to peer around the side of the chair, a golden labrador bounding down the pontoon, tongue lolling out and ears flapping as she did. You grinned, sitting forward in the chair and anticipating Sam to stop right in front of you, her tail wagging ferociously as you scratched behind her ears.

“Good morning to you, too.” You muttered, clenching your jaw and stroking her fur as she collapsed to lay at your feet, her belly exposed for you to scratch, “Where’s Sid?” At the mention of his name, Sam’s ears perked up and she barked, her head turning to something behind you, “Is he walking down now?” You didn’t turn around, instead focusing your attention entirely on the pup in front of you – until the pair of footsteps echoing against the wood became too noticeable to ignore.

The sun was still blinding from reflecting off the patio doors, but the silhouette of Sid was nearly impossible to ignore, more so when he was effortlessly carrying another chair in one arm and a travel flask with two cups balanced on the lid in the other.

You shielded your eyes with your hand, about to get up to help him in some way, but he shook his head adamantly, “I got it. Here.” He passed you the mug with the cups, and you sat silently, watching him unfold the chair (it looked a lot less comfortable than the one he’d set out for you, though you didn’t comment on it) and settled himself in.

“Morning.” You greeted, passing him one cup before unscrewing the lid and sniffing.

“Morning.” He replied, grinning, “It’s decaf, by the way.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, “Thank you.”

“‘Course.”

“Are you sure you wanna put this in your body this early?” You asked, taking his cup from him and pouring out the steaming coffee. It warmed your hands nicely through the plastic, and you snuck a look at him out of the corner of your eye. He was sitting comfortably, a little lower than you because of the height of his chair, and he was watching you carefully, completely unashamed at having been caught in the act. His grin did seem to melt into one more bashful, and he looked out across the water, blinking in the light.

“I feel like I’m gonna need it to get through today.” He answered, gently taking his cup from your hand, fingertips brushing delicately against yours.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be pretty hectic.” You agreed, placing the flask on the floor, giving Sam a quick pat before sipping on your own coffee, your book tucked under your chair. You had a feeling you weren’t going to get much reading done now anyway, not when Sid had decided to join you.

You both leaned back in your chairs, the blanket tucked around your waist, and nothing was said for around ten minutes. Nothing needed to be said. Even Sam seemed to get that message; she was curled up at both your feet, her head turned in the direction of the water. Every so often she’d perk up, maybe when a bird flew overhead or when she heard something in the woodland, but she’d always end up placing her head back down on the wooden beams, bathing in the sun.

“This is always my favourite week of the entire year.” You admitted a little shyly. It wasn’t something you were afraid of saying out loud, per se, but you’d known Sid for years. He was the one that started the week-long camp for the kids in Cole Harbour, and for some reason admitting that it was his creation that you always looked forward to the most was a little daunting.

He didn’t seem to think so, but he couldn’t quite keep the shock off his face when he registered what it was you’d said.

“It is?” 

You nodded, “Is that sad? I feel like it is.”

He shook his head, “Nah, it’s not sad at all.”

If it had been anyone else that had admitted that, Sid might have teased a little – or if you’d said something else altogether, but almost as soon as you’d thrown those words out there he felt a twinge of empathy for you. To have played hockey with each other most of your youth…you’d obviously stopped playing against and with boys at a certain age because of the regulations, but you’d managed to secure a spot on a local girl’s team and eventually you’d gone on to play at college. And by the time graduation came around, you had your degree, sure, but there was no women’s hockey league to play for, not one you could live comfortably off anyway.

Sid had often tried to put himself in your shoes…it killed him every time, like getting stabbed in the chest. Only, when you said that, the knife twisted and was pulled out, and he swore his heart broke a little. To have the skill and the talent to play professionally, but no league to play in was his worst nightmare.

To not have hockey, to him, was to not live and breathe. If he didn’t have hockey, he couldn’t even imagine what he’d be doing right now.

You just hummed, clearly not believing him, and he inhaled sharply, resisting the urge to give you a reassuring touch. He was about to say something, but you turned to look at him sharply, an odd expression on your face.

“What?” He found himself asking, taking a self-conscious sip of the coffee to hide his face.

Your eyes narrowed, and a small smile curled at your lips, “Aren’t you gonna make a comment about ‘wow, you must really miss me, huh?’, or–”

“I don’t sound like that.” He shook his head, managing a tight smile. You were trying to cover a wound that had scarred over the years by switching the subject, but Sid could only muster a forced laugh and a curious glance in your direction, “Did you miss me, though?”

There was a brief moment where he thought you’d play his question off and pretend you hadn’t heard him, and in that brief moment there were a few things that happened to him: his heart seemed to pound and drop to his feet at the same time; he realised that if you didn’t miss him he wasn’t quite sure what else to do, and regret. The regret was anticipatory, though, of you ignoring him.

And it also seemed to dissolve completely when you answered: “Yeah. Not as much as I used to, though.”

Sid swallowed, picking at his navy joggers. Instead of regret, it was guilt that ate away at him – for something he couldn’t even control.

“What do you mean?” His mouth felt dry, and his grip on the cup tightened.

You turned to look at him, shrugging hopelessly, “That first year without you was just a lot to adjust to, that’s all.”

“It was?”

Something on your face seemed to flicker; your brows twitched downwards and any trace of happiness that was previously written on your face was suddenly no longer visible. Your head tilted, and you stuttered, clearly not quite knowing what to say or where to start.

“I…” You trailed off, and Sid felt the beginnings of dread begin to creep up his stomach and settle there like a pebble, “Yeah. You didn’t know that?”

He shook his head, jaw clenching. You looked inexplicably sad at his reply, and turned to fix your eyes on the water in front of you, a sip of scalding coffee seemingly hinting at wanting to end the conversation.

But Sid wasn’t quite done, not yet. His first year in the NHL: he remembered it pretty clearly, and he also remembered that neither of you were that good at keeping in touch with each other. You were on the other side of the country in California for college, and he was mainly in Pittsburgh, but nearly everywhere. Moving out of Nova Scotia was a big thing for both of you, but having lived next door to each other for your entire childhood and having played on the same team as little kids? That first year was difficult.

“Did something happen?” He asked, voice a little frailer than he’d liked to have conveyed – so much so that even Sam’s ears seemed to prick at the slight twinge in pitch.

You shook your head, sighing deeply, “I just kind of had the sense that I was never gonna see you again those first few months, that’s all. I psyched myself out…it’s fine now, though.”

***

“Is Sid okay?” Taylor sidled up to you on the edge of the group of kids listening intently to the man in question, skates scratching to a stop as she murmured the question in your ear.

You felt your brows pinch, your gloved hands resting on the top of your stick hiding your mouth as you turned to her, “As far as I’m aware.”

He looked okay from where you were standing: the very picture of effortless leadership as he explained the next game to the group of kids all staring up at him intently, some with dropped jaws and some with frowns of concentration etched on their features. They were all wearing monochrome jerseys and the overhead lights were reflecting off their helmets. Not a single one wasn’t watching Sid talk.

His voice wasn’t wavering, and he was giving the kids his entire attention – devoted as usual to his sport…so?

“Why?” You raised a brow, looking at Taylor out of the corner of your eye.

Her mouth was pulled down at the corners, and she shrugged offhandedly, “I dunno, he just seems a bit off today.”

Yeah, okay. You turned your attention back to him, trying to commit every little motion of his hand to memory, intently keeping an eye out for any trembling or straying of his attention. It must have been another fifteen seconds before you sighed, turning back to Taylor, who was regarding you with an air of amusement, a sly smile hiding on her face.

“What?” You asked, feeling as though she was looking right through you.

“Nothing.” Then, after a pause, “Did he drive you over here?” 

You hummed, nodding, but your mind was stuck replaying and analysing what she’d previously said, “What did you mean by ‘off’?”

“What’s up with Sid?” 

Your heart thundered in shock, not having anticipated Nate to shuffle over to your other shoulder. His voice in your ear was jarring, but still as soft as yours and Taylor’s had been, not wanting to disrupt the talk at the front of the group.

“What do you mean?”

“Three guesses.” 

You and Taylor spoke up at the same time, and when you turned to look at her she was glaring at you rather pointedly, and Nate whistled lowly in your ear, a deep laugh shaking his ribs.

“No way, what did you say to him?” Nate asked, half-giggling, and you sighed, getting slightly infuriated by the lack of real answers and use of cryptic mutters that had you no closer to figuring out exactly just what they were on about.

A part of you was losing your cool a bit because you liked to think you knew Sid pretty well; in fact, you did know him pretty well. It was why you couldn’t possibly fathom another two minutes in the presence of these two without getting an answer, because he’d been like this since…

Oh.

Nate’s laughter immediately halted, and Taylor leaned forward, the two of them sharing a cautious look at the way you seemed to wince.

“What?” They chorused, the combination of their voices causing a few heads to turn in your direction, and you ducked your head, adjusting your skates as an excuse not to draw even more attention to yourself.

After a nudge in the elbow, you lifted your head up. 

There was no way that was what was causing him to be more distracted than usual. It wasn’t even a big deal or anything, and it certainly wasn’t a secret – you thought he knew, that wasn’t your fault. And it wasn’t like he’d actually done anything all those years ago, either. That first year was almost radio silence on both ends, and you were honestly glad that wasn’t the case now.

But, still? No way.

“It’s not much, I don’t even think it could be what I’m thinking anyway.” You shook your head, watching him.

“What’re you thinking?” Taylor whispered, the lip of her cap catching you in the cheek with how close she’d shuffled.

You recoiled slightly, “It’s genuinely nothing. He just apparently didn’t know that I missed him the first year.” Your voice trailed off weakly, “Nothing.”

In truth, it wasn’t nothing – it was never nothing with Sid. It was always something, and usually it hurt. The timings; what wasn’t said; the history. There was more to the two of you than what even Nate and Taylor knew of – not even when they seemed to stop breathing when you admitted what it could be.

There were weeks and months and years where you didn’t talk much, mostly due to the distance and the clashing of schedules, but there was a lull that you’d both managed to keep from everyone else, and if you were being honest, now that you were thinking about it…that and with your earlier admission on top of it…

Maybe it was your fault.

“What did he say?” Taylor said, shaking you out of your own head. You blinked, apparently still looking at Sid.

There was something grave and more serious in her features that hadn’t been there earlier, and when you shot a look at Nate, he was wearing an almost identical expression: his brows were furrowed together and his mouth was pulled in a tight line, altogether looking uncharacteristically morbid.

You felt your pulse quicken in foreboding, “He asked if anything happened and then we got in the car.”

“Nothing else?” 

You inhaled, blinking twice, “Should there have been?”

***

The car ride back to your house was silent. Eerily so. Your body was exhausted and your brain was still playing the soundtrack of pucks smacking against posts, sticks and boards in your head, along with the joyous yells of the kids. That was why you loved it so much – not just the ice time and the familiarity of having a stick in your hands and a puck at your feet – but for the look on their faces when they looked up from the ice to see a grinning Sidney Crosby or Nathan MacKinnon singing them praises.

It made you wonder how many of them would eventually go on to play college hockey or even make it to the professional leagues.

You stifled a grin, your hand over your mouth as you turned to look out of the passenger window.

The only thing that broke through to you was the motion of the driver when his head turned to watch you briefly before returning back to the road. That simple movement had the smile melting off your face. 

You’d never been particularly nervous around Sid – and on the few occasions you had been, all it had taken was a fifteen minute conversation with him and it all dissipated – but this time was different. Not only was what Taylor had told you swirling around your mind, but the tension in the car was palpable, at least in your opinion.

Sid hadn’t said much, just kept his jaw clenched and his eyes focused on the road. Since this morning, it was probably the only glaringly obvious symptom that something wasn’t quite right, or something was playing on his mind.

It didn’t take much for you to box your own miseries and turn to him. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye first: the strong jaw, the full lips, the prominent nose, the dark eyes and darker hair. He really was quite breathtaking. The hands on the steering wheel, the rippling forearms each time he had to turn the wheel. It wasn’t something you were immune to at all: in fact, since the age of about fourteen you’d been hyper aware of the fact that Sid was stunning – and it wasn’t just in his looks, either. His work ethic, concentration, determination, kindness, generosity. He was the insurmountable sum of all of those qualities, and you were a damn fool if you didn’t recognise the fact that you’d been a tiny bit in love with him all your life.

And because of that, you knew him well. Not as well as some people might initially assume, but well enough.

“You okay?” You asked, earning nothing but a nod and a tight-lipped smile.

“Yeah, why?”

You shrugged, “You’re just quiet.”

“I’m tired, that’s all.”

You nodded, looking to your lap. He’d be tired the entire week, that was always how this went. But he’d get by and he’d manage and he’d recover like he wasn’t tired: he still kept smiling, still showed enthusiasm, and maybe he’d gotten used to it over the years, because you could have sworn each time he organised this he was less and less tired.

“You sleeping okay?” 

He nodded, running a hand from his wrist to scratch under his sleeve, and you followed the motion unconsciously with your eyes, “More than. You?”

You shrugged, pulling an unsure face, “The usual.”

He snuck another glance at you out of the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to the road ahead, “What about you, are you okay?” He echoed your own question back to you, and maybe if it wasn’t for the genuine thin film of concern to his voice, you’d have brushed it off with an answer and a huff of laughter. Instead, though, you parrotted his words back to him, nailing the equal part-suspicion and amusement.

“Yeah, why?” 

“You’re hilarious.” He shot back drily, shaking his head.

“Hey, can you drop me off at my parents’ house please, I need to collect something. I’ll literally be five minutes.”

It was Taylor’s voice in your head that kept bashing about, repeating words and flashing images – Nate was thrown in there too from that earlier conversation you’d all had when Sid was oblivious, and it didn’t let up, not even when you pushed the key into your childhood home and shut the door behind you.

The house was pretty quiet, the sound of the door shutting echoing down the hallway. The TV was flashing in the living room, and you could hear voices, from both the news anchors and your parents talking over it. Only then did Taylor’s words quieten. 

“Who is it?” A voice yelled out just as you’d scraped your shoes off your feet, and the smile that bloomed on your face was almost instantaneous.

“Your favourite child!”

There was a brief pause, and you stopped in the hallway, waiting until he replied.

“That doesn’t sound like Sid.”

You pulled a face, snatching a pair of socks from the staircase before entering the living room, pelting the ball at your Dad’s head, the soft cotton smacking him straight in the nose. He was sitting in his PJs: plaid bottoms and a crumpled top, with slippers and no socks on his feet. When the socks collided with his face, that smirk was still there, even as he lobbed them back at you with surprising force to say he didn’t have a lot of arm room.

“Nice to see you, too.” You rolled your eyes, smiling at your Mom, who’d since gotten up off the sofa to peer through the blinds.

“What’re you doing?” Your Dad asked, turning his attention to his wife, and before she’d even answered you knew what she was going to say.

“Sid’s outside in the car.” You said, shrugging when they both turned to you with equal appal written all over their faces.

“Get him in here.” Your Mom grinned, knocking on the window and motioning for the man himself to come inside.

You just rolled your eyes, “I’m just gonna go get something from upstairs.” Your words fell on deaf ears, however, because almost as soon as you’d taken initiative and left the room, the front door was shutting and Sid was standing, smiling, at the door, still decked out in camp kit and looking every bit as nervous as the first time he’d ever met your family. And then he seemed to spot you walking towards him, your parents in front of you, and he let out that telltale breath, his shoulders and face relaxing fractionally.

He’d explained it to you before, about how he still feels awkward meeting people’s parents, no matter how long he’s known them, and you never seem to remember that until you see it with your own eyes: I don’t know, it’s weird, but if I see, say you, someone I know, it kinda gets me out of my head a bit. I don’t know why.

“Come in, come in – oh, she’s just picking something up–”

You immediately turned on the stairs, one hand still clutching the bannister tightly, to look upon a pair of eyes that practically gleamed ‘don’t leave me here’. The rest of his face was pretty neutral, a polite smile as your parents chatted his ears off, the both of them making their way back into the house, and there was a split second where they weren’t looking at either of you.

For some reason, instead of laughing at his misfortune, you inhaled quickly, leaning over the bannister, “Wait, I need Sid’s help with something.” 

Everyone seemed to freeze. Even despite the mental pleading he’d been doing, Sid couldn’t help it when his lips parted in shock, kind of like he couldn’t help it when his brows knitted together. Your mom stopped talking about how nice it was to see Sid again, and looked up at you too. It looked as though she was about to say something, but with the guilty, rather hurried smile on your face she clamped her mouth shut, nodding. Your dad hadn’t stopped walking, but even from the other room the rather loud ‘mutter’ of, “Is that what we’re calling it, now?” 

Needless to say, both yours and Sid’s cheeks were still a little bit pink by the time you’d walked into your old bedroom.

“What’re you looking for?” He asked, desperate to get his mind out of that gutter, and flopped on your still-made bed, picking up the penguin teddy he’d brought home after his draft. He’d bought it in one of the stores in the airport in Toronto on his way back home, and you’d never had the heart to even move it out of this house: it belonged here.

“Do you remember that video camera I used to have?” You pulled open the first contender: the bedside table drawer. There were loose cables, hair ties, various joint support bands…but no sign of the camera.

“Yeah.” Came the reply from near your head, and you blinked, not expecting him to be so close. He’d rolled onto his front, his face smushed into your pillow, and he made no attempt to pretend as though he hadn’t been watching you rifle through your drawers – at least not if that cheeky grin didn’t automatically make its way onto his face.

You pushed his forehead back, stopping your mild attack when he screamed before dissolving into giggles severely reminiscent of when he was younger. It was so incredibly infectious, so incredibly nostalgic that all you could do was crouch, an unconscious open-mouthed smile on your face.

“Why are you laughing?” You slammed the drawer shut, heaving yourself off the floor and over to your old desk. There were still some notebooks scattered across the surface, pens in the stand. The cupboard and shelves were almost full, and it was only as you started to pull everything out, looking inside baskets and boxes that Sid could be bothered to speak again.

“Because I’m pretty sure we had this exact conversation when we were twenty.”

“We did?”

“Yeah.” He punctuated it with a sigh, a despondent one, and you looked at him over your shoulder. He was sitting up now, his hands clamped around his ankles, a thoughtful look on his face.

The ‘twenty’ year with Sid had been very weird, and you never really figured out why. The nineteenth was almost non-existent, the twenty-first good, but it was tinged by what happened at the end of his season (not the winning the Stanley Cup for the first time, but the other thing), which made your twenty-second awkward, and the twenty-third was almost like a reset. You never really realised how much you’d both changed until you got to relearn each other as adults. 

He was eyeing the corner of your room you tried to avoid looking at. 

“So why are you looking for the camera?” He asked, voice sounding far-away. He was still staring at the trophy corner, and you turned your attention back to rifling through old relics in the hunt, gladly looking anywhere but that shrine.

“If I told you Taylor would murder me in my sleep.”

He groaned, “I told her not to do anything for my birthday.” 

“It’s nothing big, I think she just wants photos from when we were younger.”

“We?”

You shrugged, missing the slight catch in his voice, “Well, you, but there’s loads of photos of you on my camera, I think she just wants a look. I always forget how young she was when we left.” You sighed, slamming the cupboard door on your desk shut, before standing in the middle of your room, hands on your hips, “I don’t know where else I could have put it.”

He didn’t say anything, but the creaky springs of your mattress groaned under his hands as he pushed himself up off your bed, before walking straight passed you and into the forbidden corner.

There was a clinking sound of metal, and you whirled on your heel, watching him carefully rifle through the trophies, photo frames, certificates and medals all hung and displayed neatly, before spinning around on his heel, holding the camera in his hand with a knowing look on his face.

***

Saying you were nervous was a bit of an understatement considering what it was you were about to do. The camera’s SD card was safely tucked into your laptop, but you’d been staring at the folder on the homescreen for ten minutes, and you were sure you hadn’t felt this nervous since your driving test. Your hands were clammy, your heart was racing and your brain was loud.

You’d lied to Sid earlier – well, partially. Taylor had wanted to look at some photos, and you had every intention on bringing the camera in to the rink tomorrow so you could giggle at the contents in your breaks, but there was something else she’d also said, something that got your brain working, and you hadn’t been able to think about anything else since. 

You inhaled shakily, before double-clicking the yellow folder, the seconds where the mouse loaded into a swirl of blue almost knocking your soul out of your body from the sheer anxiety of it all. You hoped you were wrong, but a small part of you hoped Taylor had been right. If she had, it’d make so much sense as to what happened when you were eighteen-nineteen, but if she was right? You weren’t entirely sure what you were going to do.

The screen flooded with images…school corridors, ice rinks, soccer fields, bedrooms, cars, bars, Rimouski, until–

Fuck.

You froze, eyes fixated on the one photo that had caught your eye. It was someone’s back garden, you couldn’t remember who exactly, but you remembered being there. It was dark, string lights and strobe lights hung across the verandah and neon streaks flickered from between plants. 

You’d drunk so much that night but you could still remember handing your camera off to some of your classmates – it must have been graduation – and everyone had been drinking, that much you could tell from the quality of the photos, and this one in particular wasn’t any different. It was a blurred photo of someone celebrating a beer pong game, their arms raised over their head and their mouth open in some kind of celebratory roar, but it wasn’t that that caught your attention.

It was the shadowy figures of two teenagers sitting on the stools towards one side of the garden, a makeshift table pressed against the wall. They were sitting close together, knees slotted between each other, and faces mere inches apart. Both were wearing grins, even despite being mid-kiss.

Shadowy, yet so unmistakably you and Sid.

***

“You okay?”

You blinked, the staff room coming back to you. The fluorescent lights glared along the surface of the table you’d picked, your lunch tray sitting untouched in front of you, and there was a general buzz about the place. It was lunchtime, and you’d opted out of kid-duty – partly because you were on the brink of giving yourself a headache and mostly just because you couldn’t really focus on much without immediately thinking about Sid – which meant sitting at a table in a quiet room by yourself just for a breather.

Only, a rather determined, hazel-eyed man seemed to have other ideas if the tray plopped down opposite you was anything to go by. He collapsed against the chair with a sigh, hands picking up his knife and fork with practised ease, and he hadn’t even given you a chance to answer his question before he was pausing, eyeing you with mild concern. His eyebrows knitted together and he ducked his head to try to get a closer read on you.

“Yeah.” You nodded, swallowing, almost nervous.

This thing had happened all those years ago and he’d never brought it up. Yet, that still didn’t explain why he’d then…he was confusing, in the present tense. 

His mouth turned downwards for a brief moment and he shook his head in disbelief, “You disappeared ten minutes ago and you haven’t touched your food.”

You just shrugged, managing a tight smile, “Not very hungry.”

It wasn’t a lie, per se, but it was the honest truth when your stomach rolled just as he put a forkful of food in his own mouth. It revolted you to such an extent you pushed your own tray further away and turned to sit sideways on your chair, all just so you wouldn’t have to look at him eat.

He froze, his fork stilling, “Are you…I can take the food away if you want?” 

You shook your head, closing your eyes, “No, it’s fine.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and your hand found its way into the pocket of your tracksuit bottoms, fingers finding the smooth plastic of the USB stick you’d copied the photos for Taylor on. You had a plan, see. You wanted to kind of broach the topic of the graduation party with Sid, mainly just to test him for a reaction without outrightly admitting anything, and you figured – despite your current situation – that now was…appropriate.

“Do you know where Taylor is?” You asked, keeping your eyes screwed shut.

“No, why?” His answer came all too quickly, a hint of nosiness creeping into his tone. You could imagine the slight raise of one eyebrow and the thinly veiled look of ‘why the heck are you wanting my sister?’ expression on his face. You’d seen it many times before, and it never ceased to amuse.

“I have that USB of photos to give her and I haven’t seen her all morning, I was just wondering if you knew where she was?”

He would, of course. If one thing was ever going to be guaranteed about Sidney Crosby, it was the protective ‘eye’ he kept on Taylor.

“She’s in the canteen. Did you find any good’ens on there?”

“Yeah, actually.” You peeled your eyes open, ensuring to keep them fixated on his face instead of the sickly pile of food on his plate, “Do you remember that graduation party?”

He chewed thoughtfully, his jaw slowing as he nodded his head cautiously, “Yeah.” He said, dragging the word out, and there was a prick of pink on his cheeks, as though he’d suddenly come under a severe amount of stress.

He was getting a little uncomfortable.

“There’s a photo of…Jack, I think it is? Is that right?” He nodded, “He clearly won a game of beer pong or something because there’s a couple of blurry photos of him celebrating and if you look really closely you can see us in the background. It must have been towards the end of the night or something because I looked like I was falling everywhere.”

He nodded, humming interestedly, “What were we doing?”

You felt your mouth part, almost shocked at the sudden ease rolling off his shoulders. It was as though he’d prepared himself to deny, deny, deny this for his entire life, and purely because you were feeling like shit and like a shit, you shrugged, “Couldn’t really…make it out, I don’t know. I can’t remember what happened that night anyway, I drank way too much.”

He nodded once more, shrugging, “Yeah, I remember having to hold your hair back and almost dialling for an ambulance because I was pretty sure you had alcohol poisoning.”

You nodded, staging a faux look of confusion, “Did anything happen that night? You were really weird for a couple of days after.”

There was a pause – a brief one, maybe a quarter of a second, and he looked straight at you, jaw frozen mid-chew and for a moment you thought he’d picked up on something and you were found out. Then he blinked, and with the way he was acting: sitting up straighter, almost hesitating saying something, you thought maybe he was about to tell the truth.

“No.” He pulled a face, “Nothing happened that I can remember.”

***

It turned out the aversion to food was part of a larger issue, a result most likely of possibly contracting a bug from one of the kids – or maybe you were just horrendously unlucky, because you spent the rest of the night in the bathroom, and were so unwell the next morning you had to cancel helping out at Sid’s camp.

He’d sent a string of texts and a few unanswered phone calls, but you didn’t really have the energy to answer them – not when you were feeling so weird around him. You’d thought, prior to finding out about the photos and what had actually happened (bless Taylor’s oblivious nosiness when Nate had asked about you guys before – Sid had actually admitted to the whole graduation thing to the blonde, and that was Taylor’s knowledge of the entire thing), that you and Sid had maintained a pretty honest friendship, but apparently not? You wouldn’t have been so put off by the whole thing if he hadn’t pulled that same stunt later down the line, either.

There was definitely a pattern, and he definitely had a pattern and it seemed to just be deny, deny, deny at all cost.

And you weren’t entirely sure when this had happened, but you’d come to the realisation that you were sick of pretending like the two of you hadn’t been dancing that line for years. What you’d thought was seven years of denial was actually ten. This thing had been going on since you were kids, and each time something had happened you’d get weird around each other and when you tried to talk about it he’d make some excuse.

If it wasn’t a big deal why did it always have such a big impact on the two of you?

That entire thought process was what you’d been unable to escape from nearly all day. No amount of episodes of TV shows or films could distract your brain from that little spiel, it was like having a grating voice go on and on in your ear and you weren’t quite sure how to proceed, what to do to distract yourself.

Your kettle clicked off, and you sniffed, reaching out to grab the handle, the steam from the boiling water offering some kind of relief from the pressure in your sinuses.

You really were ill, but not nearly as ill as you’d made out to be to Sid. In truth you just needed a break, mostly from him, which felt horrendous to admit considering your ‘break’ from that man consisted of an entire NHL season, and your days spent in each other’s company were severely limited anyway.

But there was something in you that knew if you saw his face you wouldn’t be able to hold back saying or doing something.

Taylor knew what was really going on, and if you knew Taylor like you thought you did that probably meant Nate knew, but you know Nate well enough now to guess he wouldn’t go blabbing to Sid about something that’s not his business. The blonde likes his gossip, but he knows when to stay out of certain situations.

You liked Nate.

You inhaled, the hot water turning a bright-yellow from the teabag you’d placed in the mug (a lemon and ginger one you’d managed to snag from a local store a few days ago), and it was just as you’d threaded your fingers through the mug handle that there was a knock at your door.

You froze, brain a little slow to understand you should be moving to answer it, when a voice could be heard through the frosted glass panes.

The mug seemed to slam against the countertop of its own going, not loud enough for the intruder to hear it but loud enough to satisfy your irritation at who it was.

Think of the devil and he shall indeed appear.

He quieted down for a few seconds and you ducked from where you were standing, knowing if he made his way around to the back of the house where your kitchen window was he wouldn’t be able to see you crouched behind the counter.

And then your phone started ringing. It didn’t exactly take a genius to know who it was and the eye roll came almost automatically.

He could be so dramatic sometimes.

It must have taken barely ten seconds for him to stop ringing, and you held your breath, desperately trying to figure out if he’d moved away and given up; your knees and hips were seizing, you could feel them begin to lock from not having moved nearly all day, and you winced, hand reaching up to grip the countertop.

If you were lucky he wouldn’t be looking—

“I can see your hand and your tea.” His muffled voice deadpanned and you sighed defeated, pulling yourself up.

He was standing in your backyard, his phone in his hand and a rather disappointed look on his face as he stared straight at you through the window. 

You had to give him credit where it was due: the man could certainly kick up a fuss and coax you out of hiding.

Granted, you weren’t allocated a set amount of time to even begin to make it look like you were really holed up in bed. If you had, the TV downstairs would be off, as would the lights, and there wouldn’t be an easily visible makeshift blanket bed on the couch. All he’d really had to do was walk along your drive to peer through the front window, and then walk straight down the side of your house to the back gate.

You’d kept it unlocked for the last couple of days because you hadn’t been in much to accept parcels, and you’d never gotten round to locking it again.

Of course you’d come to regret that immediately.

The back door lock clicked open as you twisted the key, and you didn’t spare him a glance, instead making a beeline for the half-made tea. For one, you knew watching him walk through the door with his current sulk on was only going to encourage him to start talking about it, and you absolutely weren’t about to give him that satisfaction. You also really wanted that tea, it was probably the only thing standing between you getting better for the camp and the weird sickness you’d managed to contract.

Your immune system was shit.

He cleared his throat, and you lifted your eyes lazily in his direction, taking out the tea bag and leaving it to drain, “Hi.”

Your voice was scratchy and rough, and the reaction it elicited from the man in front of you: brows raised, mouth dropping open, sprung a rather odd thought to the forefront of your mind: “Did you not believe me when I said I was sick?” You managed, laughing awkwardly and inhaling the vapour from your mug, watching him closely.

He shrugged, pulling off his jacket and hanging it up on the hooks. There was a spare hook, one not used for your own stuff: a plethora of raincoats, boots, kitchen aprons…and Sid’s jacket. 

“I did believe you. Kind of.” He admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning back against the kitchen counter, “I thought you were maybe avoiding me, though.”

You blinked, keeping your face neutral, actively trying not to scoff at him or narrow your eyes in his direction, “I am avoiding you; I’m not about to give whatever this is to you, am I?” You asked softly, cradling the mug of tea under your chin, feeling the irritation begin to swirl under your skin already.

You shifted uncomfortably, and Sid watched your eyes dart to a chair pressed up against the wall with longing. He knew there was something up, something not linked to being sick – he’d felt it in the car earlier and you were practically drenched in tension yesterday. It was difficult to ignore, and judging from the way you’d been seeking out Taylor recently he had a feeling it might have been something to do with him.

What, though, he had no idea.

“Well,” he inhaled, mouth flattening into a straight line. His chest seemed to ache suddenly when you nodded, an almost sarcastic grin on your lips, purposefully avoiding looking in his direction, and he’d known you long enough by now to know when you wanted him out of the house. Now it was no different, “Thank you, I appreciate the thought.”

An uncomfortable silence.

He wanted to scream.

“I best be going.” He hurried out, the words almost getting tangled in his mouth, and before he could cause himself more harm by looking at you and the action not being reciprocated, he turned his back and reached automatically for the coat he’d literally just hung up.

Sid had never been a cryer – he didn’t class himself as an emotional guy, which was why he was so shocked at the sudden burning of his eyes and the tightness in his throat. Fuck, he couldn’t cry here. One, because it’s embarrassing, and two: he had no clue why he was upset to this extent.

He’d managed to put his arms through his sleeves, just about to start zipping it up after a quick glance at the sky outside when you suddenly spoke, voice somehow even rougher than before.

“What reason would I be avoiding you for?”

Sid froze, swallowing nervously. It didn’t take a genius, even in that exact moment, to dissect the words you’d chosen to come to the conclusion that you’d picked them carefully. Not ‘what made you think I was avoiding you?’ which would certainly have been easier for him to answer, but he had a feeling you knew that. 

It was pretty obvious from the avoidance at lunch yesterday and the weird behaviour in the car the day before that, and then the cold shoulder and lack of interest in conversation now, that something was wrong. The signs were pretty subtle, though, he had to give you that.

He turned slowly, fingers detaching from his zipper. You were now sitting at the chair against the wall, knees tucked up to your chin, the hot mug of tea still clasped in your hands. Your eyes were a little red, probably due to exhaustion, and your hair had been twisted to sit across one shoulder, attention faced solely and rather intensely on him.

“Uhm–” he cleared his throat, blinking quickly to rid of the shining moisture in his eyes. He could feel his heart racing against his sternum, and he wondered briefly if you could hear it from across the room, “I don’t know.” He muttered sadly, eyes flicking to his shoes.

Camp had been great today, as it usually was, but he always found himself scanning the ice for your familiar face. 

You nodded, sighing with disappointment, and Sid felt himself deflate. His fingers tapped against his thigh seven, eight times before he inhaled, throwing the words out in the open before he lost the courage to do so.

“What’s going on with you?” He was about three seconds away from stamping his foot; he was so desperate to know the answer. It was childish and it was stupid, but it meant something to him when you shrugged, eyes suddenly misty.

He knew what you were going to say before you even said it, but he kept quiet anyway.

“Nothing.” You sounded as wrecked as he felt, a hint of sheer resignation in your voice. It was so uncharacteristic of you: to Sid it was as if you’d not only given up on whatever it was that was bothering you but you’d given up on hiding that something was ever wrong in the first place.

It was a victory, no matter how small.

“Come on.” He took a step closer, quite literally on the verge of begging, “Really? That’s all you’ve got?”

Silence.

“I know you. Better than anyone–”

The expression on your face changed immediately, and it felt as though you’d socked him in the chest. You didn’t believe him.

You didn’t believe him.

“I want to know you better than anyone else does.” He sighed, hands pressing against his temples before he dropped them back to his sides, not quite registering what his words meant. They’d flown out of his mouth before he even heard them in his brain, and even when he’d spoken them out loud it felt surreal. He wasn’t sure what was what with all the blood rushing in his ears.

It was because of that, trapped inside himself and his own mind that he failed to register the look on your face.

“Even still,” he continued, plopping himself down on the chair on the other side of the table from you, hands knitted together on the tabletop. He was leaning right across the table but you haven't moved an inch, “This…This, you being quiet, withdrawn, skipping a day of camp – I know you’re sick and everything, but that’s never stopped you before, not when it comes to hockey.” He paused, taking a breath, “What’s going on?”

You took a sip of tea, ignoring the scalding sensation against your tongue in favour of stalling. If you didn’t say anything now, then you probably never would. In fact, if he hadn’t said what he’d just said, clearly without thinking about the meaning of the damn words, you knew you wouldn’t even be considering telling him at all. But where there was doubt…

“Why did you never mention what happened at the graduation party?”

You heard him stop breathing. There was no reason to look at him to see it when you could practically hear the hitch in his chest and the lack of air. When you did look at him his cheeks had paled and his mouth was opening and shutting, shoulders stuck in a shrug as though you’d genuinely caught him off-guard.

You could ask him that question without it meaning anything – it could just as easily be read as ‘huh, funny that you never mentioned it before’ than as ‘you kind of denied me the truth of why we’re so weird because everything that’s ever happened between us since that night has been a direct result of whatever fucked-up miscommunication gig we’ve got going on here’.

“How did you find out?” He breathed, a deep crease between his brows. Now that he’d had time to recover, he looked more concerned – angry, even – than sheepish.

You shrugged, “Those photos I got for Taylor? We’re in the background of ‘em.”

He nodded slowly, mouth pressed in a straight line. This time it was him that couldn’t look at you, probably just to gather his thoughts. You could tell his mind was racing, eyes zipping back and forth against the grain of the table.

You could feel your heart banging in your chest, the speed of it almost stinging. The anticipation was debilitating, and it took everything in you not to spit out question after question, because he was taking ages to say something and it was driving you crazy. Your fingers were tapping against your mug, a sharp exhale blowing the vapour around.

It was maybe that that had him looking up, head tilted backwards slightly, a thumb teasing at his lip. It was probably the first time you’d seen him lost for words.

“You really don’t remember it?” He muttered, brown eyes wide and clear, shiny in the last rays of sun poking through the back windows.

You shook your head, “I told you I didn’t remember.”

“I thought you were…I thought that was your way of letting me down gently.” 

You huffed a disbelieving laugh, staring at him, half-expecting him to take those words back and say he was kidding, but he never did. He just continued to look at you, that damn crease between his brows, eyes glassy and playing with his bottom lip like he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was still wearing his coat.

He never spoke.

“Why would I reject you?”

His hand fell from his mouth, landing with a soft thud on the table as he smiled, in such a self-deprecating fashion that you couldn’t help recoiling from him.

“Why wouldn’t you? I was moving to Pittsburgh, you were going to LA. We would have barely seen each other, and you deserved better than that. You still do. I mean, you know how much of a mess we were that year anyway, right?” He rambled, brows knitted together and mouth hung open. His elbows were resting on the edge of the table, hands palms-up towards the ceiling. He’d asked it like it was a rhetorical question but he was looking at you so intently you had to swallow your mouthful of tea and start talking.

Your mind had been running away with you, spitting counter-arguments for nearly everything he said, but it seemed to keep wanting to come back to the fact that he so clearly just assumed you’d reject him. 

“Did it not occur to you that maybe we were such a mess because of what happened?”

“I thought you didn't remember?”

“I didn’t, but it didn’t take a genius to know you weren’t bothered about keeping in contact with me. I wrote you emails and I got one-word answers – maybe even a full sentence if I was lucky; I called but you either didn’t answer or you cut it short because you had to go to practice. You never called back. On my birthday, the first one away from my family, you never called. I didn’t get anything from you when I got a card from your parents without your name signed because they’d just assumed you’d have written one yourself. For about nine months, the most I heard or saw of you was through the TV.” You inhaled sharply, a sudden burning sensation behind your eyes. That first year was honestly pretty awful for you when it came to Sid. What you’d told him on his decking a few days ago had been true, every single word of it. You’d agonised over every single possible thing that could have happened to change it, and for some reason the realisation of why he’d done what he’d done hit you rather emotionally, “You did all of that because you didn’t believe me when I said I never remembered what happened, didn’t you?”

His hands fell to the table, his expression softening into one of sheer guilt, “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, “I really…I didn’t know, I thought it was what you wanted.”

You huffed a bitter laugh, suddenly cold, and right as though it had been scripted, rain began to splatter against the window panes, the sky now an overcast, stormy grey, “When have I ever pretended I wanted something if I really wanted the opposite?”

He swallowed, his throat bobbing up and down, “Never.”

You nodded, satisfied with his answer, and took a rather angry sip of tea, ignoring the uncomfortable burn. There was still so much you wanted to know, so many questions you wanted answers to, but at that moment: looking through the window of the back door to see nothing but dark skies and heavy sheets of rain battering your house, there was only one thing that you could really think of.

“While we’re here,” you started, voice lowering almost as though you were anticipating hearing something you weren’t going to like, “Can we talk about your first Cup win?”

Your fingers were back to tapping anxiously against the porcelain of your mug, and the heavy silence broken only by the rustle of his rain jacket was enough of an answer to let you know how this was going to go.

He inhaled, and you risked a glance at him across the table. His eyes were open, but barely, and it looked as though this conversation, or the last few minutes at least, had exhausted him. He suddenly had bags under his eyes, and his eyelids were heavy. He wasn’t smiling but he nodded anyway, face pale and hands beginning to tremble slightly. 

Sid wasn’t one to ever really get emotional about anything. You’d only seen him cry a few times in person, but nearly every single one of those occasions was for something good: a Cup win, a house-warming party in the pantry after he’d moved into his new-build, saying goodbye to his parents at the airport. 

This was entirely different, though. It wouldn’t entirely shock you if he walked back out of your door with a few grey hairs.

“Do you want something to drink or eat?” You eyed his pale cheeks and trembling hands wearily.

He seemed to think about it for a few seconds, before inhaling and casting a quick glance at your cupboards, “Yeah, I’ll get it though, you’re sick.” And then, almost as if something else had occurred to him when he went to push himself up off the chair, he turned back briefly, “You’d tell me when you want me to leave, right?”

The barest of smiles appeared on your face, and you nodded, “Yeah.”

“Good.”

You watched him manoeuvre through your kitchen, flicking the kettle on and reaching to take a mug out from one of your cupboards, as well as taking a tea bag out of the little box you kept them in and shaking the dust out of it, the bag landing in the mug with a soft plop. He turned back when the kettle was still boiling, hands crossed over his chest and standing against the countertop right in front of you.

There was something on his mind, you could tell. There was a high probability that it was something relating to this Cup Incident, but there was something almost impatient about the way he kept shooting an angry glance at the kettle, as though it wasn’t boiling fast enough for his liking, that had you perhaps thinking there was something else playing on his mind.

“What?” You asked, swallowed anxiously.

His head snapped in your direction, eyes wide with alarm and his mouth opened and closed a few times, thoroughly confused, “I didn’t say anything.”

“I know, but you want to.”

He closed his mouth just as the kettle clicked, and there was a brief moment where he turned his back to pour the water into his cup, but before you could even say ‘hockey’ he’d spun on his heel to face you again, “I just…We’re gonna be okay after this, right? I don’t want you to not be in my life, I don’t want to not be in your life.” He sighed, “I don’t want this to break us.”

Us. 

Us.

It echoed in your mind, and despite agreeing with almost everything he said, all you could offer by way of reassurance was a sad shrug, “I don’t want that either.”

He nodded, before finishing off his tea and grabbing a protein bar from one of your drawers and sitting back down at the table, shedding his coat and laying it neatly over the back of the chair.

Neither of you said anything for a good minute. It might have been because Sid was munching on that protein bar, but you really wanted to put the matter off for as long as possible just in case what he said did become true. Prolonging a possible heartbreak – an entire era, person and a piece of your identity – from ever occurring, even if it was only hindered a few more minutes.

It seemed, though, he took the liberty of deciding exactly when to start talking.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “this is about the second kiss, isn’t it? My Cup day.” His tone was firm, but there was a hint of sombreness hidden somewhere.

“Yeah.” You whispered, looking down at your mug. Your knees were still tucked to your chin, and technically Sid was sitting to your left, you still choosing to sit on the chair sideways and face the window instead. You were spending an awful lot of time staring at him though.

You spun, feet hitting the floor and mug clinking on the surface of the table. 

“I’m gonna ask a few questions and I just want you to answer honestly, okay?” You asked, inhaling a deep breath and choosing to ignore the thundering heart rate.

He nodded, leaning forwards in his chair in anticipation.

“We were both pretty drunk, yeah?”

“Correct.”

“Nobody saw, correct?”

“Correct.” He was starting to smile.

“I leant in first,” you started, voice shakier than you’d intended, and despite moving so you could see him without giving yourself a neck cramp, you found it almost impossible to be able to look at him. You’d kept some of this hidden from yourself, locked away in a bottle somewhere in the floorboards of your mind – completely inaccessible, even to yourself. To bare them aloud for the very person who shared the secret was nothing short of absolutely terrifying, “but then I stopped, right?”

You couldn’t tell if he was hesitating or if he was struggling to remember the event that had been burned in your mind for so many years, yet you still couldn’t look at him. Not even when his fingers slowly inched into your line of sight, seeking to touch your own hand still wrapped around your mug.

You didn’t move. It might dissuade him from touching you – you hoped it would because you weren’t entirely sure if you’d be able to admit all of this to him if he did.

“Yeah.” His voice was low, and his fingers dropped on top of the table, tapping silently.

“Then you…made the move.” You struggled not to cringe at your wording of it, eyes screwing shut before peeking open again, just in time to hear him answer. You hadn’t asked it as a question, but he took the hint anyway.

“I did.” 

You paused, thinking. There weren’t many times you’d had to ask for unadulterated honesty when it came to Sid: most of the time he gave it to you anyway, but when it came to this kind of topic – you, it seemed, especially in the more romantic sense than simply lifelong friendship – he always kept his cards to his chest, never really revealed anything too damning.

But you’d asked for his honesty, and the least you could do was reciprocate that. It wouldn’t hurt to also milk it a little.

“I wanted to kiss you.” Want to kiss him, “Did you want to kiss me?” Your voice was higher than you’d like it to be, still a little hesitant and unsure. It somehow all felt unnatural, like scaling a foreign terrain for the first time. You couldn’t quite find your feed, where you could or couldn’t stand that would be safe and efficient.

You risked a quick glance at him. And oddly found you couldn’t quite look away. He still had that one hand almost outstretched towards you on the table, but his other was wrapped safely around his mug, still billowing vapour. His cheeks had flushed since he’d had something to eat, but it was his eyes that you couldn’t peel yourself away from.

He was looking at you, right at you, with something you’d never seen before. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but it was soft without being too gentle, firm without being angry or aggressive. The corners of his mouth were downturned in a sort of sad, melancholic smile, too, and you’d never seen him look at anything else like that – anyone else – apart from when he’d be getting ready to serve a big milestone on the ice.

You’d seen it when he’d put on a gameday suit for his 500th game, you’d seen it when he’d clocked the family in the box at his 1000th game. It was appreciation, gratitude. There was a third answer lurking in the back of your mind, but you refused to acknowledge it for the sake of not getting ahead of yourself.

One question at a time, one answer at a time, only look at the facts.

“Yeah.” The answer flew out of his mouth barely even half a second after you’d looked at him, and he broke into a cheeky grin, quickly ducking his head to his chest to calm himself.

He inhaled, eyes closing briefly before turning back to you with a straight face, and this time it was you breathing an amused laugh.

“Yeah, I wanted to kiss you.” He repeated, nodding for you to continue.

There was one question left. The reminder of it was enough to melt any previous traces of a smile off your face, and instead your mouth twisted at the corner, pulse humming in your head with dread.

“Why did you blow me off the next day when I said we needed to talk?”

His eyes focused on something behind you, and his mouth flattened in a line, self-deprecating and devoid of any true emotion, “I saw it going two ways: you were gonna reject me, or we were gonna do something about it. The way I saw it, I thought you’d already rejected me way back when – I know now that’s not the case – so I wasn’t really scared of that. The thought of it stung but…”

You frowned, “You were scared of me not rejecting you?”

He nodded, “I could never have asked you to sacrifice your entire life just to make me happy. You had a career, a house you’d just bought, friends, you were close to your family. I wasn’t gonna make you choose between all of that and – and just me, was I?”

Your face seemed to crumple sympathetically before you could even control anything. Everything he’d just admitted was nothing short of a testament to his character and who he was, no matter how…you wanted to say he was selfish for choosing for you, and a small part of you believed that, but he was also right. You had everything he’d just listed, and it would have been upsetting to move away if things progressed further and ‘got serious’, but it wasn’t like you would have been completely isolated, either.

He spends a good portion of his time in Pittsburgh, that’s true, but he spends his entire off-season at home in Cole Harbour. An entire four to five months, almost half a year.

You shook your head, hands unclasping from your mug to rest at your temples, “Okay…I kind of get where you’re coming from, but did it ever occur to you how much you had to sacrifice to get to where you are?” 

He blinked.

“You’ve earned the right to be selfish, especially when it comes to me. I mean, sure, I have a life here, I love it, but I never wanted to stay here. That was never my plan. I wanted to play hockey as a career, I wanted to travel and experience things, but that wasn’t what happened. I’m constantly missing a life I never even got to taste and I guess…I guess I’m kind of miserable because of it? I’m grateful for what I’ve got, but it won’t ever equate to what I wanted for myself. I love hockey, I love this camp, but I love seeing you just as much, I always have. It meant something to me.” You hesitated, “You mean something to me.”

You searched his face for a reaction, and it might have taken a few seconds for what you were saying to sink in, because his eyes suddenly went glassy and his jaw clenched. He couldn’t look at you for a while, and he kept sniffing.

You hoped more than anything he wasn’t actively catching your cold whilst you waited for him to say something.

And then: “I mean, for what it’s worth, you mean everything to me–”

“It’s not a competition.”

***

You were lost.

Or, at least, from Sid’s perspective you were: he was standing near the boards on the ice, keeping a close eye on the kids playing the shooting drill he’d set up for them, and he truly was watching them…he just couldn’t exactly help it when his eyes would wander curiously and scour the rest of the ice, practically desperate to drink you in. Wherever you were. He couldn’t see you, and it was getting to that point in the day where he wasn’t sure if that meant you’d left the ice to supervise the locker rooms and talk to parents or if he just wasn’t looking properly (again: he had to watch a bunch of kids with knives screwed to their feet).

See, it had been three days since you’d both sat in your kitchen and mulled things over, uprooting what you both thought to have happened when you were younger and twisting everything into a more truthful, honest version (he admittedly spent the rest of the day in bed; he was so emotionally drained he actually forgot to feed Sam until she started barking relentlessly at him) of events. 

Did he know where you stood with each other now? Not entirely, but he knew you were both thinking about it. That was a shock and a half to have uncovered on a Wednesday evening.

Did he know what he planned to do within the next few weeks? Kind of.

Had you actually seen or spoken to each other since that day? Not apart from group settings: you’d taken another day off to recover from that little bug you’d caught – of which Sid had managed to avoid catching – and the past two days including this one were full of nothing but red cheeks and a peculiar affinity to wrestle a smile off both your faces if you even so much as looked at each other. 

It was a pretty big switch-around from last week, but he welcomed it with…well, he’d honestly never been happier or more excited to be on the edge of starting something with you. He’d thought about it often before, mostly as a weapon to torture himself with when he was already upset over something, remind him of another failure – only that one had been personal and about his life, not anything to do with hockey. It always used to sting more.

He sighed, “Hey, Ryan, try gripping the stick a bit lower, you’ll get more control on your shot next time, ‘kay? Yeah, just like that! Poppy stop poking people in the face with the stick please, I know you find it funny when it gets stuck but it could poke someone’s eye out.” The culprit in question sadly dropped her stick to the ice, and Sid didn’t even have to be near her to know her bottom lip was sticking out in a pout “Thank you.”

It was as Evie pushed forward on her skates with a puck at her feet that something whacked Sid softly on the bum with enough power to send him trailing forwards slightly, but he didn’t take his eyes off the girl in front of him, who sent a powerful slap shot towards the goalie, and the puck couldn’t even be seen until a ding! echoed in the back of the net. Sid huffed a laugh, “Wow, Evie, that was incredible! Keep it up.”

She flashed him an awkward thumbs up, the gloves interfering with the action, and Sid mirrored it before finally turning his attention to a rather beloved blonde. Nate’s brows were halfway up his forehead, mouth contorted like he’d also just breathed a quiet ‘woah’ under his breath, and when he registered Sid was even looking at him, his face melted into one that had become rather synonymous with another person in his life. Nate always smirked when he was about to bring you up to Sid. There were a few occasions where he’d read the room and approached the topic with a bit more consideration, but it appeared this time was no different to usual.

“Kind of reminds me of a certain someone when they were that age, huh?” 

Sid clenched his jaw, trying not to give away just how true that statement really was, before muttering a quick, “You’re too young to have known what she was like at that age.”

Nate made a sound that came from the back of his throat, a short huff of laughter passing his lips, “Dude, you’re so easy to read.”

Sid shook his head, “Next!” Another kid skated forward, and both professionals watched as the goalie caught the puck safely in their glove before chucking it across the ice in their general direction.

“Hey, if you want to skate around for a bit, I can watch this drill.” Nate said, intercepting the puck and adding it to the small pile that had slowly been accumulating next to the boards.

Sid frowned, a crease forming between his brows, “Why?” He drawled, rather suspicious of the sudden generosity.

He had a feeling he knew what it was about, but he wasn’t going to speak ahead of himself and make matters worse – Nate already had enough teasing material when it came to his silent pining.

“It’s pretty obvious you’re distracted and it’s been killing me and Taylor watching you. She’s over there,” Nate lifted his stick, pointing to the opposite side of the rink, where Sid could only just now make out the back of your head. He had no idea what had caught your attention so much as to have your back facing the ice– “There’s a little kid on the other side of the glass with a mini-stick. She’s been pulling faces for the past five minutes, and I just thought I’d warn you before you…y’know–”

“Nate, what the eff?” Sid hissed, watching wearily for any kids overhearing. 

“I’m just kidding. Kind of.” He grinned, “Go say what you need to say and then come back.”

Sid rolled his eyes, but still patted Nate gently as he skated by, “Thanks.”

Nate just shook his head, waving him off, and Sid took that as his signal to skate away, ignoring the undoubtedly humorous glance Taylor was giving him. It was bad enough that they’d noticed what he was doing at all, let alone to have it pointed out right to his face. 

He pushed loose pucks out of the way, skating right around several different drills before crashing into the boards right next to you, his face pressed against the glass to see…three different dribbling toddlers staring up at you both. One had an armful of teddies, the other was wearing a Pens PJ set and the final one was holding a mini stick, the ball left forgotten behind them.

You didn’t even need to turn your head from where you’d leant it against the glass to know who it was that had rather abruptly pulled up beside you. Not only was the side of his face in your peripheral vision enough, but the faces of the parents sitting in the seats were enough to go by. Everyone seemed to sit straighter, smiles a little bit wider at the sight of their local boy interacting with a small herd of toddlers who obviously had no idea who he was.

Except…the kid with the mini stick dropped his fingers from his mouth, stick lazily pointing in Sid’s direction, and even through the glass you could make out the vague words of "Siddie Cosby!” and the excited smile on his face.

Sid waved, spinning the cap on his head the other way around so he could also press his forehead to the glass, and you laughed softly, breath fogging up the panes for a brief moment. The sound had him tilting his head slightly so he could look at you.

He wasn’t sure if he was smiling before he’d turned – he had to have been, though, surely? – but he felt himself smile, if not more than he had been. It was unconscious, like a reflex made worse because you were just so infectious to him.

“Hi.” You muttered lowly, catching him out of the corner of your eye. You didn’t turn your face away from those kids, still pulling funny faces no matter how demanding of your attention he was. You could look at him all you liked later, but for these kids, their moment was this moment.

At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. Really, you just felt a little too shy looking at him with all those people watching from the stands.

“Hi.” He grinned, also turning his attention back to the kids. The one with the hockey stick suddenly banged on the screen right in front of him, and even despite his quick reflexes, he couldn’t help jumping at the sudden noise in such close proximity.

The kid just giggled, and when Sid cast his eyes to the seats, heart racing in his chest, some of the parents were trying to hide their own laughs behind their hands. 

He almost forgot he had an audience.

His tongue darted out nervously to wet his bottom lip, and he felt you look at him rather than saw you do it, “Are you coming to my birthday party tonight?”

There was a brief silence between you both, and you struggled to hold in a laugh as Sid registered what it was that he’d just said. His eyes closed and he leant his forehead against the glass, sighing hard enough to fog it up.

“Yes.” You answered, tone full of amusement. 

His eyes opened and he twisted his head, still resting against the glass, “Can I pick you up at five?”

You blinked.

His party starts at seven.

It was probably the easiest yes of your entire life.

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

"You better know what you're doing."

Leverage S02E01 The Beantown Bailout Job.

[loverboysturn]

ꕀ no matter how mad you are with each other, you and soulmate!chris will always fall back into each other.

au masterlist here ⋮ taglist here

you’re not speaking to chris.

he’s still blocked on instagram, his number is still blocked too, and yet somehow, the moment you step foot into the party with your best friend tonight, your eyes still manage to find his almost instantly, just like they always do, without either of you even having to search far for each other.

you’re still angry with him after the fight that you had last night in his jeep when he had dropped you home. it was another one of those arguments between you and chris that you’d had hundreds of times before over the many years of being together but not together, one where you can’t even really remember now what it had actually started over, but he had a slight attitude with you for no reason so you gave him the exact same energy back but then things spiralled and you ended up in a heated exchange of words, and the last thing you really remember is leaving the car holding back tears before slamming his stupid infamous car door shut so hard that the whole car shook.

you’d barely made it inside the house before you’d blocked him on everything.

and truthfully, you’re still mad at him but that doesn’t stop the way your heart flutters rapidly when you see him tonight. he’s wearing one of your favourite outfits on him, leaning against the counter in the corner of the room with matt by his side, both of them deep in conversation with nate stood in front of them, or at least chris is now pretending to be. his fingers are brushing against his lips, something that you know he only ever does when he’s distracted, and if you know him like you think you do, and god, do you know him well, he stopped listening to his best friend the second that you walked in.

butterflies still erupt inside your stomach because yes, you’re mad at him but you’re also madly in love with him which is a feeling that never goes away when it comes to your feelings for chris.

you glance away from him for a few seconds to greet a friend you bump into as she pulls you in for a hug, promising her that you’ll catch up with her at some point tonight and when you look back over to chris, he’s still staring at you like he never looked away once and then all of a sudden he’s moving, walking away from his brother and nate who is still yapping to them, but chris is making his way over to you with complete tunnel vision like nobody or nothing else in the room matters.

he steps in front of you, standing not too close to you but still close enough that you can smell the residue of fresh cigarette smoke lingering on him combined with a mix of his signature aftershave that you love so much. he’s the first out of the two of you to break the silence, just like always.

“you slammed my car door so hard it nearly fuckin’ came off,” he says, a smirk appearing on his face as his arms snake around your waist pulling you into him without him even having to think about it, “still mad at me, my pretty birdie?”

you almost hate how easily your body leans into his, but it just happens so naturally and comfortably for you.

“depends,” you mumble, rolling your eyes at him but still looping your arms around his neck. “are you going to act like a dick with an attitude all night tonight too?”

he laughs, leaning his forehead against yours. “can’t make any promises, sweet girl.”

the thing about those fights with chris, the petty, stupid ones, was that there’s never a big dramatic apology needed. you just need a little bit of time and space from each other to cool off and breathe, and then the second that you’re anywhere near each other, you’re instantly melting into each other again, in the same way that you always do.

“gonna unblock me on instagram now?” he teases, whispering in your ear. “saw that lil’ selfie you posted on your story tonight in your dress, watched it on nick’s phone.” his breath hot on your neck, “watched it a few times, actually.”

you lean in, pressing a gentle peck to his lips then you shake your head, a smirk tugging at your lips slightly.

“might keep you blocked and make you suffer juuust a little bit longer.” you giggle, pecking him again slower this time as you find yourself tangling your fingers through his hair. he lets out a quiet laugh, before he’s pulling you in for a another kiss, one that’s deeper and more intense.

from across the room your friends catch sight of the two of you all tangled up in each other once again, kissing and whispering in each other’s ears like you hadn’t been ranting and raving to them all, all day about how annoyed you were with each other.

because they know, they know that no matter what happens between the two of you, you will always find your way back to each other.

you always do, and you always will.

🖤 ꒰ taglist: @sturniqlo @ellssturn @mi-co-uk @oopsiedaisydeer @thewizardfall @alwaysiconick @mattspillowprincess ꒱

[withwritersblock]

The Day I Knew I Needed You

~The Day I Knew I Needed You by Marloe~ Author's Note: requested! This was fun to write :) Summary: Nate falls in love with his new neighbor. Warnings: reader is a single mom, so if that's not your cup of tea... Word count: 5,340 Nathan Mackinnon x fm!reader

It was a new chapter in her life. A chapter where she was fully independent. She’s spent the last five years still living with her parents, after having her son at eighteen. She finally found a job that paid well enough to branch out on her own.

Her son, Evan, was so excited to have his own bedroom. He had many plans to decorate it with as much Spider-Man stuff as possible. 

She rounded the corner towards her apartment with a box in her hand. Evan began to bolt away from her.

“Evan!” She called out, swiftly dropping the box by the door before chasing after him. Evan was standing in front of a blonde man who was kneeling down on Evan’s level. 

“I like your shirt,” she overheard the man say. Evan was wearing an Avalanche shirt that her brother, Tyler, bought him.

“You’re Nathan Mackinnon,” she heard Evan say from the distance. 

“That’s right,” she heard him say while laughing. 

“Evan, honey, you cannot run off like that,” Y/N let out urgently, “I’m so sorry,” she told the man, who happened to actually be Nathan Mackinnon. 

“Oh shit,” she mumbled. Her cheeks ran hot as she was suddenly aware of the sweatpants and tank top covering her frame. Her heart slammed against her chest.

Shifting his gaze towards Y/N. His entire body froze. She was beautiful. More than beautiful. He’s never seen anyone so effortlessly pretty. The smile on her lips was enough for him to fall to his knees. He swallowed harshly, his skin ran hot as he scanned her frame. He cleared his throat before he chewed on his bottom lip for a second.

He smiled as he stood up. “Strong kid, he nearly knocked me down,” he said jokingly. She let out a nervous laugh as she waved her hand towards Evan.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“Oh don’t be, he’s all good. Did you guys just move in?” He asked as he crossed his arms over his chest. She nodded, looking back towards the apartment door with a box in front of it. “That’s awesome, it’s a great building.” he shoved his hands into his pockets for a moment before he stepped towards her. 

“I’m Nate but it seems like you guys already knew that,” he offered as he pointed to Evan’s shirt. Y/N let out another nervous laugh. Suddenly, Evan was squeezing against Y/N’s side, nerovusly. 

“I’m Y/N and this is Evan,” she said as she ran her hand up and down Evan’s small back. 

He swallowed harshly, a small smile forming on his lips. “Nice to meet you guys,” he let out softly. “My apartment is that one, if you guys ever need anything,” he explained as he pointed to the apartment with 5G on it. She nodded.

“Thank you,” she said with a toothy grin to her lips. “Good luck tonight,” she offered. He smirked as a laugh left his lips.

“Will you be watching?” he asked as he began walking backwards away from them. 

“If I can get my TV to work then definitely,” she expressed as she began guiding her and Evan towards their new apartment. He smirked as he gave them a thumbs up before he darted towards the elevator. She dropped her gaze towards the floor for a second before meeting Evan’s gaze. 

“That was Nathan Mackinnon,” Evan whispered. Y/N tossed her head back laughing. 

“Come on, kid,” she mumbled as she guided him towards their new apartment. She walked back up towards the door, taking the keys from her pocket. Quickly, she put the key into the door and unlocked it. She pushed it open, letting Even run wild into the new space.

Leaning down, she took a hold of the box and bumped into the door as she stepped inside. “Go find your room,” she called out. He didn’t hesitate as he started down the hallway that led to it. Carefully, she placed the box next to all of the other boxes. It was her final one. She rested her hands onto her hips while staring into the sea of boxes. 

She had no idea where to start. Everything was scattered and she only had two pieces of furniture that didn’t come with the apartment. Her own mattress and Evan’s. But most of her furniture will be delivered tomorrow. Which meant she needed to start unpacking at least some of the things she could.

~~~

It had been a few days since she first moved into the apartment, things were starting to finally get together. Evan was loving having his own room and Y/N was feeling the same way. It was finally starting to feel normal. She brushed her hair away from her face as she slipped out of the apartment. 

Keeping her gaze down, she was staring at the text message from her mother. Instead of paying attention to where she was going, she bumped directly into some. Lifting her gaze up, she saw Nate in front of her. His frame was covered in a dark blue suit.

“I’m sorry,” she let out urgently. He held his hands out towards her, hesitantly taking a hold of her arms. 

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly. His eyes widened as he had a small smile on his lips. 

“Yes, I’m sorry. I need to pay attention to where I’m going,” she said jokingly. He pulled his arms back to his side. Their eyes connected for a few seconds before he replied. He raised his hand up and dragged it across his crooked nose.

Clearing his throat, “How are you guys settling in?” he asked while crossing his arms over his chest.

“Really well, almost done with everything,” she expressed as she pointed towards the elevator. He nodded as they began to walk side by side down the hallway. “Great game the other night,” she mumbled.

He chuckled while meeting her eye briefly. “We lost,”

“It went into overtime,” she said encouragingly. He tilted his head from side to side before he pressed the elevator button as he leaned back. 

Their eyes connected again as he had a small smile on his lips. Squinting her eyes slightly, she fought off a smile forming on her lips. He took a fast inhale of breath as he shut his eyes for a few seconds.

“This might seem a little–can I take you out sometime?” he asked. 

The question felt awkward on his lips. He was not accustomed to asking girls out after two conversations. He liked to be friends first before even thinking about making a move. But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He couldn’t blink without seeing her beautiful smile. 

A wide grin formed on her lips at the thought. She hasn’t gone on a date in years, felt her heart flutter at the idea of being with someone again. Her smile faltered as she took a deep breath. Every ounce of joy that she had at the idea slipped her mind. 

“Nate, I have a son,” she said in her rejection.

The elevator doors opened and they both stepped inside. “I met him, he’s pretty cool,” Nate said softly. They spun around, watching the doors close in front of them.

“I don’t date anymore,” she mumbled before taking a deep breath.

“Because you have a son?” he questioned, turning his head to the side. She met his eye. His lips curled upward as their eyes remained connected. She hummed as her gaze dipped down towards his lips.

“But I appreciate the offer,” she let out softly. He hummed as he watched her trail her gaze back up to his eyes. He pressed his lips together while pulling his phone from his pocket. 

“Well if you or Evan ever need anything…” he trailed off as he handed her his phone. She met his eye again, squinting her eyes slightly. Her cheeks flushed as she saw the subtle smirk on his lips. 

The elevator doors pulled open, revealing the lobby. He took his phone back, glancing down towards the contact she created. He began walking out first, he quickly spun around. He began walking backwards, “Oh and by the way, the offer still stands for whenever you decide you’re ready to date again,”

She stood still, feeling the elevator doors close behind her. She pursed her lips forward as she watched him tilt his head back. He grinned widely before he spun around and started walking faster out of the building.

She let out a nervous laugh as she felt her phone vibrating in her hand. Looking down, she saw that her mother was calling her. Without hesistaiton, she brought the phone towards her ear. “Hey Mom, I’m leaving the apartment now. I’m sorry,” she muttered as she took faster steps out of the hotel lobby. 

“Oh no rush, honey, I am having grandbaby withdrawals. We are having dinner and going to watch the Avs game. Do you want to stick around?” her mom asked. Y/N’s eyes widened as she felt her heart pound against her chest. 

An image of Nate’s perfect smile flashed in her mind. Rolling her eyes, she began walking towards the parking garage that was directly next door to the apartment building. 

“Yeah, we’ll stick around. I know we’re missing you guys too,” she expressed cheerfully. 

It didn’t take long for her to drive to her parents house. The entire drive her mind kept wandering towards Nate. How perfect the suit fit his frame and how bright his eyes looked with the dark blue suit. She pulled into the long driveway and instantly climbed out. She jogged up the driveway towards the garage door.

Raising her hand up, she quickly typed in the code. She stepped inside and jogged towards the door that led to the rest of the house. “Hello!” she sing-songed as she entered the house.

“Mom!” Evan called out running towards her. She let out a breathy laugh as she happily took the dramatic hug from her son.

“Hey honey, how was work?” her mom called out. 

“It was a good day,” she said as she pointed towards the couch. Evan bolted and jumped onto the couch. She walked towards the kitchen, where her mother was making all of them dinner. 

“Is there a reason my grandson believes Nathan Mackinnon lives with you guys?” her mother questioned while laughing. “Evan has not stopped talking about it,” 

Y/N’s lips parted as she felt a smile form on her lips. Clearing her throat, she quickly wiped the smile right off. “Turns out Nathan Mackinnon lives a few apartments away from us,” she expressed. Her mother spun around, her mouth completely fell open. Y/N tried to hide the smirk forming to her lips but her mother could read her like a book.

“Have you spoken to the Avs star player?” she asked teasingly before stirring the comically large pot on the stove. 

“A few times,” Y/N mumbled. “He offered to help us if we ever needed anything.” she explained further, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh really?” her mother questioned. She hummed as a reply. “Seems like a charmer,” 

“We barely spoke, Mom,” she offered. Her mom nodded dramatically. “I promise,” she expressed while dramatically taking large steps backwards away from her mom.

~~~

It was past ten at night, normally she would already be in bed. But she kept staring at the new contact name in her phone. She shouldn’t press the call button because why would the star of the Colorado Avalanche want to hang out with someone who had a kid. Let alone want to go on a date with someone who had one. 

There were a few seconds where she was trying to decide if it would be a mistake to invite him over. But slowly, she pressed the call button and brought it towards her ear. She was half expecting him to send her straight to voicemail or let it ring and ring. 

Instead it rang for a few seconds, “Howdy neighbor,” he said teasingly.

A sudden laugh fell from her lips, “I feel like I should hang up now that you said that,” she shot back through laughter.

“What can I do for you, Y/N?” he asked in a sing-song way. 

She took a hesitant breath, feeling her chest tighten in the process. “Do you want to come over and watch a movie or something?” she asked while shutting her eyes. He smirked as he nodded, as if she could see him. 

Widening his eyes, he began to stand up from his seat on the couch. “I definitely would like to do that,” he expressed cheerfully. 

“You can just walk in,” she said softly, “Don’t want to wake Evan up by the doorbell,” she explained while awkwardly shifting with a blanket covering her lap. 

“I’ll be super quiet,” he whispered into the phone before hanging up. A smirk began to toy to her lips as his voice sent a shock to her frame.  She tilted her head back against the top of the couch. Slowly, she watched her front door get pushed open, she saw Nate peek his head into the house. His eyes were wide as their eyes connected. “Is it safe?” he asked in a hushed tone.

She threw the blanket off of her as she stood up from the couch. “It’s safe,” she mumbled softly as she crossed her arms over her chest. He slipped inside, letting the door shut quietly behind him. 

“Hi,” she said as she met his light eyes. She watched as a tight lip smile formed to his lips as he awkwardly shifted from one foot to the other. “Thought you would be asleep,” she said softly as she looked over his features. He dragged his tongue across his bottom lip as he took a few steps towards her.

“I should be but couldn’t sleep anyway,” he mumbled as he watched her body straighten. She nodded slowly as she wandered towards the couch. She faced away from him as she sat down. Nate cleared his throat as he kicked off his shoes and rested them near the door. “What are we watching?” he asked as he mimicked jogging towards her but barely moved forward.

She tossed her head bak and laughed as she collected the blanket over her lap. She took a hold of the blanket that was dangled over the top of the couch. Carefully she tossed it towards him and he flinched as he covered it over his lap.

“I’ve got no ideas,” she expressed softly. He smirked as his eyes squinted slightly. 

“You just wanted an excuse to see me, didn’t you?” he asked teasingly. She shrugged while brushing her hair away from her face. “I’ve got a few ideas, give me the remote,” he let out as he held his hand towards her. 

She happily handed it towards him as she kept her gaze on him, admiring every small detail on his face. The way his lips were slightly curled upward at every moment. The way his cheeks were flushed slightly. She admired the way his nose was crooked, she was certain she remembered the exact play that caused it to be like that. 

Her eyes widened slightly as she looked back towards the TV screen. Nate was scrolling through the huge list of action movies, she expected nothing less. 

~~~

It had been two months since she first moved into her apartment. Evan was adjusting well and so was Y/N. Nate was at her apartment nearly every night he could. They would text during the day and she would ask him to come over after Evan was asleep. For a while, it was nice to have a friend that didn’t have anything to do with playdates. 

He was fun and made her laugh for most of the night. It seemed like every night they would get progressively closer and closer together. Each night, they would watch a couple movies; switching who’s turn it was to pick them.

She was handling the remote, scrolling through Netflix trying to decide what they should watch. “You and Evan should come to the game this weekend,” he offered as he turned his phone screen off and dropped it face down onto the couch. She tilted her head to the side dramatically. Their eyes met, a smirk toying to Nate’s lips.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled. Nate’s bottom lip fell into a dramatic pout. She rolled her eyes playfully. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she continued while looking over his features. 

“Why not? I’ll get you guys seats in a secluded place, no one has to know that I got them for you guys,” he explained as he inched closer to her.

“He’s never been to a game in person and my dad has been wanting to take him to his first one,” she explained, trying to find any excuse. She couldn’t fully wrap her head around why she didn’t want them to go. It felt intimate, weirdly. Intimate.

“Bring your parents, your brother, bring everyone.” he begged. He took a hold of her arm, pulling her towards him teasingly. She stared towards him suspiciously while taking in a deep breath.

“Fine,” she drew out the word as she leaned forward to take a hold of her phone.

“Yes! How many tickets should I get?” he asked excitedly, pulling his own phone from his pocket.

“Five please,” she let out somewhat defeatedly. She began to type a message to her family group chat letting them know of the updated weekend plans. He was urgently texting his connections to get some seats in the lower bowl. Close to the glass, but not super close to distract him. 

Quickly, he held up his phone towards her to show that he bought the tickets. His lips fell into a pout as she saw the price of the tickets. “Jesus, Nate! You didn’t have to pay that much. Oh my god!” she let out urgently as she reached towards him. They were only a few inches apart. Quickly, she took a hold of his phone and brought it closer towards her face.

“I get two free ones, these are for the other three,” he said as he shrugged slightly as if the payment was nothing. 

“It’s that much for three tickets!? Holy shit people must love you,” she said as she handed the phone back towards him. He rolled his eyes playfully.

“I don’t make the prices,” he mumbled as he tilted his head back against the top of the couch. “You are still okay with coming right?” he asked, his eyes widened as he scanned her features. He dragged his tongue over his bottom lip as he watched her smile softly. 

“I’ll think about it,” she mumbled as she slid closer to him. “I haven’t been to an Avs game since before you were on the roster,” she said, letting out a dramatic sigh. 

His mouth fell open as he began to steal some of the blanket into his hands while looking deeply into her eyes. “That’s like seven years,” he let out. She nodded dramatically while humming. “I have to say I’m a little offended,” Their shoulders bumped as he spoke.

“I’ve always planned on going to games, but then I don’t know if you know, I had a son,” she said teasingly. 

“Who’s an Avs fan, might I remind you,” he teased again as their eyes met. “He knew my face and my name; and you were robbing him of the best–”

“Oh my god,” she interrupted him by leaning her head against his shoulder. She let out a breathy laugh. “I agreed already didn’t I?” she let out quietly. 

He pressed his lips together as she slowly lifted her head up, looking into his eyes. “Can I ask you something?” he asked suddenly. She nodded as she leaned back slightly. “You don’t have to answer,” he continued.

“Just ask, Nate,” she let out softly as she scanned his hesitant features. 

He swallowed harshly, “Where’s his dad? You and Evan never talk about him,” he questioned, suddenly avoiding her gaze. She clenched her jaw for a second as she took a deep breath.

“We dated all through high school. He was the star football player with like a million D1 scholarships. When he found out I was pregnant senior year, he broke up with me and pretended the pregnancy never existed. So when Evan was born, I did everything in my power to be the best mom. I mean my parents and brother also did so much for me and him. It didn’t matter that his dad wasn’t there,”

“Sounds like you guys are way better off without him,” he offered, looking into her eyes. She nodded softly as she felt her heart jump into her throat. 

“It helped that he barely played in college and didn’t make it big,” she said with a dry laugh leaving his lips.

“Serves him right,” Nate said teasingly.

“Yeah, I thought so,” she mumbled as she continued to look in his eyes. “But Evan’s incredible without him,” she expressed softly. 

“You are too,” Nate mumbled. The corner of her lips curled upward as she fought off a smile. Looking into his eyes, she felt her heart start to slam against her chest. “Put on a cheesy rom-com,” he offered as he pointed towards the TV. A nervous laugh fell from her lips as she took another hold of the remote and started scrolling through the TV again.

He forced his gaze back towards the TV, feeling his cheeks pink up in the process. 

~~~

The game ended with a 3-2 victory for the Avs. Nate ended up getting a point on each goal. Evan was enjoying every minute. He was jumping up and down at every goal. Dancing to every song that played and enjoying himself a giant container of popcorn. 

Her family wouldn’t stop asking questions about why Nathan Mackinnon bought them tickets. Asking about how close the two of them have gotten. She didn’t know what to say. She had nothing to say for a while. All she said was that they were friends. That’s all.

They were in the process of leaving the stands when her mom took a hold of her arm. “Can Evan stay the night at our house tonight?” her mom asked, a small smile on her lips. She squinted her eyes slightly as she looked over her mom’s features. “I miss my grandson, he’s told me you haven’t given him any ice cream in weeks!” 

Y/N rolled her eyes as she tossed her head back, “He just had like a thousand pieces of popcorn,” she explained as her eyes landed on her little boy walking side by side with her dad. She let out a dramatic huff of air, “But yeah, he can. But please, make sure he goes to bed soon. It’s already late,”

“We’ll see. Grandma’s house isn’t his house anymore.” she explained while skipping slightly. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. 

“Nate!” she heard Evan shout. Lifting her head up, she saw Nate walking towards them. Her eyes widened as her heart jumped into her throat. Evan bolted towards Nate. Nate knealed down and waited for Evan to give him a hug. Evan wrapped his arms around Nate’s neck. Nate returned the hug as a laugh fell from his lips.

She smiled softly as she met Nate’s gaze. Evan pulled away and started talking excitedly towards Nate. Nate was nodding along, laughing and joking with Evan. 

After a few seconds, Nate stood up as Evan took a hold of his hand. “This is Nate!” he expressed as he dragged Nate towards her parents. Nate was only looking towards Y/N as he approached the group.

“How did you guys like the seats?” he asked as Evan let go of Nate’s hand. He jumped up and down as he walked towards her brother. Her dad’s eyes widened as he looked towards Nate and then back towards Y/N.

“Still cannot believe it, thank you, kid!” her dad said as he held out his hand for Nate. He instantly shook his hand.

“Of course, no one should go seven years without going to an Avs game,” he said teasingly. Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically as she fought off a smirk. 

“We’ve tried dragging her to games but she wouldn’t budge,” Tyler offered as he dramatically wrapped his arm around Y/N. He raised his eyebrows teasingly, “But the Dog swoops in and she all of a sudden wants to come to a game,” 

“Ty,” she scolded barely above a whisper.

“I told her I was a little offended that ever since I joined, she hasn’t come to a game,” Nate explained as he continued to look into Y/N’s eye. 

“Trust me, we were offended too,” her mother teased. “Well, we should be heading home.” her mom said as she met Y/N’s gaze for a second.

“I was gonna drive Y/N home but since you two live in the same building, why don’t you give her a ride,” Tyler said as he delicately pusehd Y/N away from him. Nate dropped his head while laughing.

“I was gonna offer anyway,” he let out before he raised his hand up and dragged his hand across his chin.

“Evan, come here,” she said as she watched him bolt away from her father. She knealed down in front of him. “You’re gonna stay with grandma and grandpa tonight, okay?” she explained softly. 

“Really?!” he asked while jumping up and down slightly. She nodded while smiling softly. “Thanks Mom!” he shouted as he ran back towards her dad. 

She rolled her eyes playfully as her family said their goodbyes. She shoved her hands into her pockets as she watched her family walk away from them. Her parents were holding hands with Evan. Every few seconds, they helped him jump into the air.

Nate walked closer towards her, standing side by side. “Thank you for this,” she mumbled as she met his eye. 

“Any time,” he mumbled back as his cheeks were flushed red. She smiled softly as she took a few steps forward.

“Come on,” she mumbled as she spun around to maintain his gaze. He chuckled softly as he followed after her.

The drive back to their apartment complex was full of chatter from Nate. He was talking about the game, in grave detail. If he didn’t talk about it now, it would all disappear and he wouldn’t remember a second of the game. He asked her about Evan, asked about how he enjoyed the game. 

She told him that every time Nate touched the puck, Evan shouted that Nate lived near them. It was adorable. 

Nate pulled into his parking spot, instantly putting the car into park. He shifted his body towards her, looking into her eyes. “So how was the game, really?” he asked as he unbuckled his seatbelt. She followed in pursuit.

“Definitely a lot better than the last game I went to,” she let out as she leaned her head back against the headrest. 

“Yeah?”

She hummed as a reply. He cleared his throat before he started climbing out of the car. She nodded as she began to follow in pursuit. 

Nate quickly rounded the corner and waited for her to walk side by side with him. Instead she began walking ahead of him. He scanned her frame as he shook his head slightly. “Y/N,” he mumbled. 

She spun around on her heels meeting his gaze. He stood still as he looked over her features, his breathing was slightly unstead. His lips parted for a second before he clamped his lips shut. 

“Nate?” she questioned while tilting her head to the side. A breathy laugh left her lips as she looked into his gaze. He took a few steps towards her while taking a deep breath.

“We’ve got movies to watch,” he offered as they started walking towards the elevator to take them to their floor. 

He took a hold of her arm, pulling her towards him. A gasp left her lips before he leaned down and kissed her urgently. She hesitantly rested her hands onto his arms as she began to kiss him back. He looped his arms around her waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

After a few seconds she pulled back. “Nate,” she mumbled.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he tilted his head back as he scanned her features. She shook her head as she leaned towards him, kissing him urgently. She ran her hand across the base of his neck as she parted her lips allowing him to deepen the kiss. “Should we head upstairs?” he mumbled against her lips.

“Please,” she mumbled as she pecked his lips. He smirked as he began walking ahead of her. He took a hold of her hand and began leading her towards the elevator. 

~five years later~

Nate was sitting on the couch, staring at the ring box in his hand. It was a diamond ring that Y/N’s sister-in-law helped him pick out. Tyler, Nate, and Tyler’s wife went ring shopping several weeks back. It took several weeks to decide if it was the right one. But her sister-in-law swore it was perfect.

He was trying to decide when was the best time to do it. But it didn’t matter until he got Evan’s permission. Clenching his jaw, he took a deep breath. Tilting his head back, he looked towards the clock on the wall. Y/N would be home in an hour. 

“Evan! Can you come here please?” Nate leaned back as he shoved the ring box into his pocket. Nate heard muffled yelling from upstairs but it was soon met with loud footsteps climbing down the steps. He stood up as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Evan walked through the hallway towards the living room.

Nate kept his hands in his pockets as he watched Evan stare towards Nate expectantly. “What’s going on?” he asked softly. He looked towards the kitchen then towards the giant clock on the wall.

“Let’s go sit,” he offered as he pointed towards the couch. Evan nodded slowly as he followed after Nate’s footsteps. Nate sat on the couch, leaning forward. His hands stayed in his pocket, his grip tightened around the box. Evan sat down directly next to Nate. 

“Nate, you’re scaring me,” he mumbled.

“Sorry,” he let out while laughing. “I’m just nervous,” he muttered. Evan furrowed his eyebrows harshly while crossing his arms over his chest. Nate took a deep breath as he pulled the ring box out of his pocket. He flipped the box open and showed Evan the ring. Evan’s mouth fell open as a gasp left his lips.

“No shit,” Evan mumbled.

“Dude,” Nate let out while shaking his head. Nate tried to stop himself from laughing but the way the word fell from his lips nearly made him laugh loudly. 

“Sorry,” he let out as he leaned closer towards the ring.

“Before I asked your mom, I wanted to see if you were okay with it,” Nate explained as he handed the ring box towards him. Evan took a hold of it and brought it towards his face. He was examining every single tiny detail of the ring. Nate took a deep breath, “Can I marry your mom?” he asked softly.

Evan giggled softly, “It’s about time,” he offered as he shut the ring box. He handed it towards Nate again. Nate tossed his head back while rolling his eyes. 

“Are you sure?” Nate asked softly as he met Evan’s eyes. 

“I don’t know anything different. Do I have to wear a suit at the wedding?” Evan asked as he stood up from the couch. Nate smiled widely as he watched his kid dance awkwardly in front of him. 

[bumblesimagines]

what's a kiss between friends?

you don't treat anyone else like this. just me.

- Maddy Perez

you don't treat anyone else like this. just me.

what's a kiss between friends?

Pronouns: they/them/theirs, gender neutral!reader

You watched Maddy fiddle with the speakers from the comfort of your bed, one cheap beer can in hand while the other kept your head propped up. She grinned when the music finally began flowing from them and tapped on her phone screen a few times until a Kali Uchis song began playing. Maddy spun on her heel to face you, her hair flying from one shoulder to the next with her movements, and she began to sing along to the song. 

"I just wanna get high with my lover Veo una muñeca cuando miro en el espejo Kiss, kiss"

You chuckled and pushed yourself up to lean back against the headboard, eyes trailing after her as she danced along to the song, swaying her hips and using her half-empty beer can as a microphone. You nodded along to the beat, unable to resist the smile spreading on your lips while Maddy continued her performance. She moved onto the end of the end after setting her can aside, kneeling at the edge, and continuing to sing along with a wide smile.

"But I know a place we can escape Find out how it feels to let go of everything, be free When you're here with me"

Better to see Maddy loose and carefree than agitated over Nate or her parents. She seemed fully in her element, laughter occasionally escaping her and the smile never leaving her face. She leaned down, crawling toward you with a mischievous grin and stealing the can right from your hand once close enough. She flopped onto her back and drank the last remaining drops of beer before setting it on the nightstand and tilting her head toward you, resuming her singing and dramatically resting her hand over her chest. You stayed silent, keeping your teasing at bay for the night. She needed a good time after what Cassie had done to her.

"There's nothing like peace of mind And you take the time to make sure that I'm okay I know I can put stress on your brain"

Maddy trailed off toward the end of the lyrics, her lips pressing together and pursing lightly as she stared up at you. You quirked a questioning brow at her and reached out to brush raven-colored strands out of her face. She swatted lightly at your hand and mimicked your position, curling her arm around her pillow and tilting her head. 

"What is it, Maddy?" You prodded, shifting to lay more on your side and look at her better. She ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back and fully out of her face, her eyes still lingering on yours. 

"You ever thought about, like..." She trailed off, the tip of her acrylic nail scratching lightly against her jaw. "Kissing?" 

"I had my first kiss years ago, Mads, and you did too."

"That's not what I mean, asshole," She huffed lightly, lightly pushing your temple with two fingers and rolling her eyes dramatically. Her hands moved to the ends of her hair, combing through it thoughtfully. "I mean, like... us." 

Us. It almost sounded like it had a double meaning, as if it meant something more than friendship. You'd known Maddy quite literally your whole life, practically since the womb. Your mother had fallen pregnant around the same time as Mrs. Perez, and as a result, they'd often exchange tips or simply talk about how life had changed for them. It'd almost been fated, really, to become best friends with the girl across the street. You'd seen it all: her rise in popularity, the cheerleading practices, her circle of friends growing, the turbulent relationship with Nate Jacobs. the anger, the sadness. The very definition of ride or die.

"What's a kiss between friends?" She lifted her brows at you, but you knew her too well to miss the hint of nerves. The way her fingers combed through her hair, the slightly pursed lips, the way her eyes slipped away every so often. It would've been a shock to the girls if they learned nothing had ever happened between you and Maddy. They joked about it often, and you were fairly certain they believed Maddy turned to you whenever something went wrong with Nate. She did, of course she did, but not in the way they thought of. 

"Friends." You repeated airily, your finger drawing shapes on the sheets. "You know, you don't treat anyone else like this. Just me. Everyone else thinks you're always acting like this cool girl when you're just a dork."

"A dork?" Maddy scoffed softly, the ends of her lips curling upward. "The fuck you mean, a dork?"

With a soft snort, you leaned forward, planting your lips against her in a swift peck. Her typically colored lips were clean and soft, with only the taste of cherry chapstick. Maddy made a soft noise of surprise, her body growing motionless, but by the time the surprise had faded, you'd already pulled away, slumping back into the pillows and listening to a new song fill the room.

[cassiesc0rner]

Impurities VIII

Synopsis: You're the new girl at East Highland High, your only goal is to get through school. Until you come across Nate Jacobs

Genre: angst

Pairing: Nate x fem!reader

Warnings: manipulation, jealousy, (homophobia?), lying,

Song rec: Hush - The Marias | Caged Muse - Lilithzplug | listen before I go - billie eilish |

WC: +6,9k

Other parts: previous part, next part

A/N: This might be my saddest part and things are getting crazy but I hope you’ll still enjoy it nonetheless :)

Holy shit

That was all you could think once you woke up the next day. To say that you felt tired would be an understatement. You felt like you got run over by a truck.

Your head hurt—no, scratch that, your whole body hurt, you were tired, and for a moment, you totally forgot what happened the day prior. But once you took in your surroundings—the oversized bed, and Nate's cologne, you remembered it. Every. Single. Thing.

You pulled the blanket over your head, feeling like the room was way brighter than usual. You stayed like this until you heard the door of Nate's room. Your head peaked up under the blanket, and you looked at Nate who stood in front of his bed.

"Good morning, princess." He said as he smirked. He was wondering when you'd wake up, given that it was 1 PM already. "Morning.." You mumbled, before pulling the blanket back over your head.

Nate chuckled as he strolled over "How are you feeling?" he asked, despite knowing you're probably hungover. "I'm never gonna drink this much again.." You groaned, your voice muffled by the blanket.

Nate cooed as he sat down next to your legs. "I'm sorry," he said, running his hand over the blanket where your leg was "I should've kept a better eye on what you drink." he apologized, successfully masking his true intentions.

Nate had no regrets at all, last night had gone better than he could've imagined. Seeing you give in to him, endure his rough side and actually liking it, was everything he ever wanted.

"You hungry?" he asked, changing the subject. You groaned "Starving." you mumbled into the blanket.

"Good, I'll get us something to eat." he declared standing up and stretching, his shirt riding up just enough to distract you momentarily. "There's a glass of water for you on the bedside table. I'll be right back." He announced with a smirk.

You were surprised by Nate's sudden mood shift, but you were sure it was because of your rather exciting night together.

You took the chance to freshen up while Nate went to get breakfast. Once you took all your strength together to get out of bed, you took one of his shirts and walked towards his bathroom.

When you looked into the mirror however, your eyes widened and your heart dropped.

Your throat was littered in red and purple hickeys.

You remembered how Nate's mouth was constantly on your neck last night, of course this had to be the outcome. You weren't sure how to feel other than utter panic, because there's no way your parents wouldn't notice.

You sighed before stepping into the shower, deciding that it made no sense to worry about it now done there wasn't much you could do.

After you got out of the shower and dried your hair, you put on Nate's tee and made your way over to his bed. Luckily your headache wasn't as present anymore and you were just tired.

You plopped down on his bed and scrolled through your phone as you waited for Nate to return. You saw pictures from the party yesterday, which some of the students posted.

You decided to text Max, in order to thank him for everything. You felt bad for him because he had to clean up everything alone, since you left earlier with Nate.

You: Heyy just wanted to say thank you again for helping me and trusting us with your place! 02:42pm

You waited a moment after sending the text, feeling a little better now that you thanked him. You wouldn't have been able to plan this huge party without him, and you wanted him to know that you didn't take it for granted.

But as you continued to scroll through social media, you suddenly remembered Nate's words before the two of you left the party. They echoed in your head, loud and clear, "You're not gonna talk to him again, you understand?"

You sighed. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the fact that you were finally sober again, but something about that warning unsettled you more now than before. Yesterday you were way too drunk to notice how weird he was behaving, brushing it off as him just being his overprotective self.

But now you weren't so sure.

You glanced down at your phone as Max's reply popped up almost instantly.

Max: No worries, I'm glad everything went smoothly :) 02:43 pm

You smiled faintly, but you still had an unsettling feeling in your stomach—which could've also been a result from the drinks you had, but you were sure it was something else.

Fear.

You couldn't get past what happened when he found out that you and Max were texting, and meeting up without him. You'd rather not risk it happening again.

You put your phone down, and allowed your head to sink into the pillow as your mind went back to the previous night. Each memory seemed so vivid, the way Nate had pushed you past your limits, the way you finally felt less insecure.

The sound of his footsteps ripped you out of your thoughts. You quickly sat up as you waited for him to open the door. Suddenly, you felt anxious as his words rang in your ears over and over again.

The door swung open, and Nate stood in the doorway, smirking at you as he put the bag of take out on his desk. "Miss me, princess?" he asked cockily as he took in your expression.

You nodded before leaning back against the headboard. "Yup, but now you're back." You chuckled, hoping Nate didn't notice how nervous you were.

But he did, of course he did.

He had enough time to analyze your behaviour, and he knew that something was off. You were acting way too relaxed again, almost as if it was forced. "Yeah," he said slowly as he looked at you "what's with you?"

"What? Nothing." you shrugged, Nate's gaze flickered to the phone in your hand just as you locked it.

Now his smirk faded. You wouldn't do the same mistake twice, right? "Y/n," He started as he took a step towards the bed "Was someone texting you?" you shook your head "No, I was just about to text my mom when I'd be home. You know her, always asking me where I am and if I'm okay." You chuckled as you averted your gaze towards your phone.

He didn't buy it one bit. "Then why did you just lock your phone?" He pressed, crossing his arms as he stared you down and when you took too long to respond he continued "Don't lie to me, baby. You're terrible at it."

You groaned, still seemingly looking everywhere but him "Nate why is it so important to you? I was literally about to text my mom!" you defended yourself. But Nate completely ignored it "Unlock your phone."

Your eyes went wide "Nate, you can't be serious right now.. let’s not do this again." But Nate only continued to stare at you. "Unlock it." Your heart raced, as you gripped the phone tighter.

"Nate.. please." you whispered softly, as the memories of the previous fight came back. And for a second he seemed taken aback, questioning himself if he was overreacting.

You just couldn't help it, the thought of reliving that day made you shudder and the way he yelled ‘Stop fucking lying, Y/n!’ was probably engraved into your mind, just like the pressure of his grip on your arms as he shoved you against the wall of his room.

Or the way you suddenly couldn't breathe anymore.

And now, as you watched him inch closer to the bed, you swore it would happen all over again. "Why are you making such a big deal out of this?" You asked, trying to sound as calm as possible "I promise, it's nothing you have to worry about."

Nate let out a humorous laugh "Then why were you acting so fucking suspicious?" he asked as he reached the bed "And also," he continued, as he furrowed his brows "wasn't that also what you said, when I asked you why you met up with Max?"

"Jesus, Nate, I'm not even acting suspicious!" you groaned in frustration. "Yes, you are!" He shot back, "Locking your phone when I ask you what's wrong, avoiding eye contact? Just stop wasting time and–"

You put your phone beside you, as you sat up straight "Nate, please!" you pleaded again, "Why do you have to pick a fight over this right now? Just because I apparently texted someone?" Nate frowned, taken aback by your sudden outburst.

"I mean, seriously?" You continued, the words rushing out of your mouth before you could stop them "When are you going to stop being so insecure and just love me, without constantly suspecting I'm cheating on you?"

The room went quiet.

Nate flinched, as if you had slapped him. For a moment he just stared at you, processing what you had just accused him of.

And then something shifted, his jaw clenched and he seemed eerily calm.

Fuck.

"Insecure?" He repeated, his voice even lower than usual. The silence afterwards made your chest tighten, somehow this was even worst than him yelling at you.

Because right now, you had no idea what was going on inside his head.

You swallowed hard as he stared at you, almost like he was staring right through you, his expression unreadable. For a moment it seemed like he didn't breathe with how motionless he was.

"What did you just say to me?" He asked, his tone calm. You shifted uncomfortably as you tried not to lose it. "I–I didn't mean it like–" But Nate was already shaking his head, his mouth stretching into a mocking smile. "Nah, you meant it."

He stepped closer to you, slowly, almost as if he didn't want you to notice. "You think I'm insecure?" he repeated, like he was trying to make sense of your statement. Then he chuckled bitterly, almost mockingly as he reached the side of the bed, causing you to inhale sharply as you scooted away.

"Tell me something," he said, taking a step closer as his eyes were locked on you "if I'm so fucking insecure... then why do you look so scared of me right now?"

Your breath hitched as he leaned in closer. You opened your mouth but nothing came out, while Nate was watching you predatory, waiting for you to say something.

"You know what I think?" he continued quietly, leaning in just slightly. "I think you know you fucked up. And now you're trying to make me the bad guy, so you don't have to feel guilty about it."

"Nate..." you whispered. He tilted his head slightly, studying you. "Who was it, hm? Who were you texting?" His voice stayed low, almost gentle, like he was asking about the weather. But you could feel the threat lurking underneath it.

"I—I told you, it was nothing," you stammered once again, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. Nate's smirk faded, his eyes narrowing just slightly. You sighed, knowing you didn't stand a chance against him. "I was texting Max..."

Nate chuckled drily "Max.. really? Why am I not surprised.." he responded sarcastically. "I just thanked him for yesterday, nothing else." You explained, as your hand shakily worked to unlock the phone.

Once you did, Nate took the phone from your hand before his eyes scanned the text messages between you two. His jaw tensed for a moment, but other than that his expression was void of any emotion, causing you to fear he might be even more angry.

"That's it?" he asked, his eyes still glued to your phone.

"Yes, I–I only texted him because I wanted to thank him for the party yesterday. I felt bad because we left so early and he had to clean everything up himself, and–"

"I didn't ask for a speech," he cut you off, his tone less cold. "I believe you." he continued, a faint smile making its way onto his face. You sighed in relief "You do?" you asked once again.

He nodded "Yeah, I do." he stated, his gaze intense as he just stared at you for a moment. Then he tossed your phone back on the bed "But let's be clear about something." he sighed as he leaned in closer.

"You're not talking to him again. Got it?"

His tone left no place for any arguments, so you just nodded "Okay.." you swallowed harshly when Nate's gaze didn't falter "Say it." he demanded.

"I.. I won't talk to him again." You complied quietly. Nate watched you for a moment longer, before a triumphant smile appeared on his face.

"Good girl." he praised, his hand stroking your bare thigh, and for a moment you forgot how possessive and scary he was just mere moments ago. "See? That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

You forced a smile and nodded, still feeling slightly uneasy. Nate on the other hand seemed perfectly at ease, as if the entire argument didn't even happen.

"You hungry?" He asked casually, before he walked back towards his desk where the take out rested. You simply nodded slowly "Yeah.." Nate smiled for a split second before he opened the bag.

You were left staring at his back, completely confused. Was he actually mad just now, or was he just acting like he was to get his way? He was so angry just mere moments ago, what happened?

You decided to just let it go, glad your fight was over. You were more than sure that you could relax the rest of the day, at least until you'd get home.

Or so you thought.

After you two were done eating, Nate had pressed a kiss onto your lips before he disappeared into the bathroom to take a shower.

You were watching TV as you waited for him to come back, the thoughts of your previous argument slowly resurfacing. You just couldn't get past how his mood shifted so many times.

Suddenly you sensed a faint vibration. Thinking it was your phone, you reached for it, but the vibration continued.

It was Nate's phone.

You still heard the sound of the shower running, so you decided to reach for his phone and take a look at who was calling him.

Not because you were particularly curious or anything, you just thought that it might've been his parents and maybe it was something important.

But it was just a random number, no caller ID or anything. Maybe it was just a scam call, but something inside you, told you to answer the call.

You could still hang up, right?

You slid your thumb over the screen to accept the call, but decided to remain silent as you held the phone to your ear.

"Hello.. Nate? Oh my god.. I can't believe you finally picked up."

You froze as you took in the sound of a female voice. It was a voice you didn't recognize and it frightened you for a second. Nate didn't have any sister, and he barely talks to any girls from school.

Cassie?

Just as you were about to say something, she continued to speak "Listen I–I know that this is pretty late, but I just needed to talk to you, about everything that happened."

Your grip on the phone tightened. "I want to apologize for how things went.. I didn't know Lexi would put stuff like this into her play."

Your eyes widened, totally confused at what was going on. Which play? Why was she apologizing for someone else's play?

"I.. You know that I always stood by your side. I literally dropped everything for you, no one's gonna love you the way I love you! Even after everything Maddy told me about you.. About those dickpics on your phone."

You nearly gasped, your mouth agape in both confusion and realization.

You were listening to none other than Cassie.

Did Nate actually have dickpics on his phone? Does that mean.. he sent dickpics to other girls while he was with Maddy?

No, there's no way, he already told you how crazy Cassie was. Not to mention, that Nate was not the type to cheat on his girlfriend– she was the one who cheated.

But why were you still listening to her?

"I mean.. you're not into that.. right? Or is that why you broke up with me? B-Because you realized you're into boys?"

That's when it clicked and your face started to form into a scowl. Those dickpics weren't his own, they belonged to other guys.

You started to feel dizzy, the urge to hang up was immense, feeling overwhelmed with the situation. But you felt like you'd miss out on a lot of information if you'd hang up now.

Why would she say stuff like this? She's so sure that she's talking to Nate, there's no reason for her to lie.

"God, what am I even saying, I'm sure Maddy just lied about that. Is.. Is that why you choked her at the carnival? I–I get it, okay? I mean, I know you hate when I bring up Maddy, and we talked about this before, but I just– I want you to know that I don't blame you. She was pushing you and you just snapped."

What the actual fuck?

You stopped breathing for a moment, unable to believe what you just heard. He choked Maddy, at the carnival, because his anger got the best of him?You felt like you were about to throw up.

"I always did what you wanted me to do, I even dressed the way you wanted me to, I–I did everything just so you'd like me, so.. what did I do wrong?"

Your hand was trembling as you tried to comprehend everything that she just threw at you. There was no way that she was telling the truth. She sounded just as crazy as Nate described her.

But why did you still believe her?

Did he tell her how to dress? Was that why he bought you all those outfits? You had so many questions, but you couldn't ask anyone. You were just about to hang up when Cassie sighed, ready to continue her rambling.

"I just.. I can't let you go, not after everything we've been through. I need to know if you.. ever felt the same way about me? I.. saw you with her.. with that new girl..." her voice cracked slightly.

"I saw you holding hands. I didn't think she would be your type but.. I guess all she has to do is listen to you the way I did, right?"

You were surprised by how sudden her mood seemed to switch from desperate to bitter in the span of mere seconds. But other than that you were beyond disturbed with everything you just found out.

You felt like everything you knew about Nate was a façade he put on to gain your trust. But why would he go through so much trouble just to have you as his girlfriend?

Cassie was right, it was odd that he picked you. You weren't popular, you didn't dress to his liking and you two didn't even know each other.

"Nate please.. please say something, anything. Yell at me if you want to I.. I just wanna hear your voice."

Your eyes fluttered shut in an attempt to calm down. Then you slowly removed the phone from your ear and hung up.

You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs, you wanted to cry because you were so shaken. When you heard the shower turn off you quickly put his phone back onto the bed. Almost like you felt disgusted to hold it.

You stood up and started to put on your own clothes again. Quickly tossing his shirt onto his bed and picking up your bra.

But you weren't quick enough to get fully dressed when Nate emerged from the bathroom, only a towel around his waist.

He smirked when he saw you in only your bra and panties. "Hm, what do we have here?" He teased as he took another step closer.

To his dismay however you took two back, your dress clutched tightly in your hand as you glared at him. "Drive me home." You demanded sternly. Nate's smirk fell as he inspected your body language.

Something was definitely off.

"What?" He asked softly, but the question was directed towards himself more than you.

"I want you to drive me home." You repeated as you turned away from his gaze and stepped into your dress.

Nate swallowed harshly, his mind racing with all the possible things you could be mad about. He had to find out quickly before it was too late. Nate slowly approached you as you adjusted your dress, your mind racing with thoughts as well.

He placed his hand on your shoulder, causing you to flinch. A frown crept onto Nate's face as he looked around his room.

He was trying to see if anything was out of place, despite knowing that there was nothing you could've possibly seen to get you this disturbed.

"I still have to talk to my parents and everything and it's getting late." Once you fixed your dress, you turned around to walk past Nate. But he had other plans, he grabbed your arm and swung you back almost against his damp chest.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked as he leaned in closer, the scent of his expensive shower gel intoxicating you as you blinked up at him. "I already told you.." you trailed off as he leaned in even closer.

You swallowed harshly before you removed your arm from his grip, and walked towards the door "Are you gonna drive me home or do I have to take the bus?" you asked, your tone serious.

Nate clenched his jaw before he nodded "Yeah.. sure, I'll drive you."

The ride to your place was quiet. Nate occasionally tried to make conversation, complaining about the driving skills of some of the drivers.

But you only replied with short answers, which only infuriated him further. You nervously tapped your thigh as your gaze was fixated on the scenery outside, and the sun which was about to set.

Once he stopped in front of your house, you thanked him and unbuckled your seat belt. Nate squinted his eyes at you as he inspected your strange behaviour.

Usually you'd kiss him goodbye, with a smile on your lips. But that smile was nowhere to be found and Nate finally decided he had enough.

"I'll see you tomorrow." you said softly, as your hand reached for the door handle

Click.

The sound of the lock echoed through the silence and you immediately froze. You slowly turned back towards Nate, who's fingers were casually tapping against the steering wheel.

He looked straight ahead, almost like he didn't just lock you in his car with him. You weren't sure what to say, you knew deep down that he wouldn't let you go unless you told him what was wrong.

And of course he wouldn't let you go until he successfully convinced you that you're worried about nothing.

Nate's dry chuckle broke the silence and interrupted your thoughts momentarily, his gaze still directed to the front "Y/n.." he started. You gulped in return, waiting for him to continue.

"Are you gonna tell me what's up? Because I'll stay in this car with you until you do." he added, before he slowly shifted in his seat to turn towards you.

You simply glared at him, even more anxious now that you knew what Nate did to Maddy when she pissed him off. "Are you gonna hurt me if I don't tell you? If I don't do as you say?" You replied as you took all your courage together.

Nate's jaw clenched before he snickered "What the fuck are you on about? Have I ever hurt you?" he asked, his tone bitter as he unbuckled as well now.

Your gaze flickered towards his hand, feeling even more frightened now that he was less restrained. "Is that a serious question?" you responded, trying to sound as calm as you could.

"Yes, it is. Because if I remember correctly I never fucking hurt you." You sighed when he continued "Was there anything I haven't done for you? Literally anything?"

You furrowed your brows "That's totally besides the point." you defended yourself "Okay, then answer my other question, when have I ever hurt you?" he asked again.

"Remember when we fought about Max for the first time?" You reminded him, to which he sighed "Jesus Christ, why is it always Max?" he scoffed before he added "Is this still about our argument earlier?"

You shook your head "No, you literally asked me when you hurt me and I was about to explain it to you, before you started putting words into my mouth." Nate sighed, his hand gripping the steering wheel.

He despised the way you were talking to him.

It was so out of touch with how you usually talked to him. And the fact that he wasn't even sure what got you this worked up, made him even more angry.

He exhaled sharply through his nose before shaking his head, as if he was trying to hold himself back.

"This wasn't me hurting you," He muttered, his voice even lower "This was me trying to protect you from guys who only want to fuck you. I mean, you have no idea how the boys talk in the locker room, and trust me, Max is one of them."

You blinked in response "You slammed me against the wall, Nate. Do you really think that was necessary?" He turned towards you again, debating on what to say without pushing you further away.

"And I already apologized for that, didn't I?" When you didn't respond, he continued "I didn't realize that I went too far, I was scared because I didn't want to go through the same thing I went through with Maddy."

Maddy.. Is that why he choked her at the carnival?

"I just wanna know what happened while I was in the shower. Did anyone talk to you? Was it Max?" He asked, his tone less harsh and more concerned.

You shook your head, before you looked out the window, wanting nothing more than to get out of his car as soon as possible "I answered your phone." you finally admitted, your tone calm.

Nate's jaw clenched tightly as a million thoughts ran through his head, was his dad calling him and said something weird? Maybe it wasn't even his dad, and one of his stupid teammates?

He nodded encouragingly waiting for you to continue. "It.. kept ringing... and I just thought it might be something important and you were in the sho–" Nate cut you off "I'm not mad that you picked up, Y/n, you don't have to justify your decision."

You nodded in response "It was Cassie." you finally explained. You made sure to look at him as you did, to gauge his reaction.

But to your dismay, he only sighed and shook his head. Then he suddenly chuckled drily. "Seriously? You talk to fucking Cassie for once and you instantly think I'm a monster, is that it?"

When you didn’t respond immediately he continued “This is exactly why I didn’t want you to talk to her when you offered it last week. You believe everything people tell you.”

It was your turn to sigh now "No Nate, I just don't understand a lot of things.. I feel like you're hiding so many things from me while I'm an open book to you." you frowned.

"Cassie's absolutely insane, if you couldn't tell by now, do you really believe what she says about me?" Nate asked in disbelief.

He knew damn well what she told you about him. That he's an aggressive asshole, or that he'll drop you eventually, he was aware of the fact that she'd say anything to make you dislike him, to ruin your relationship.

"She told me about the carnival."

Nate's face remained unreadable, but you could've sworn you saw his eyes twitch for a moment, as if he was nervous. But he quickly masked it with a scoff "Oh and you believe her? You really think I would try to strangle Maddy?"

You remained silent, before you squinted your eyes at him "I never mentioned that she told me that."

Fucking hell.

There it was again, that subtle twitch. "Well, you didn't have to, I know what she tells people." He explained, before swallowing harshly.

Why did you make him so fucking nervous all of a sudden? He was supposed to have everything under control.

You sighed, knowing that he had a point, but he wasn't as calm and collected as he usually was and that made the whole situation really suspicious.

"I mean.. she thought she was talking to you, Nate. I didn’t respond to anything she said.” you answered, your tone laced with frustration.

“And what about.. about the nudes on your phone?" Nate glared at you "Which nudes?" he asked, even more confused now. "Cassie mentioned some dickpics you had on your phone."

Nate shook his head and chuckled again, before you continued "You know, it's totally fine if you're bi or anything, it doesn't matter but–" he interrupted you, slamming the steering wheel as his breathing grew heavier.

"I'm not fucking gay, Y/n, Jesus Christ!" he raised his voice, causing you to flinch. Then why was he so defensive? "The fact that you actually fucking believe anything that comes out of her mouth is insane."

He didn't deny having the pictures on his phone. And judging by his outburst you weren't wrong "Then why did you have those pictures on your phone?" you pressed, wanting to know more.

"Maddy thought it was funny to.. mess with my phone. She put those dickpics onto my phone to mess with me, okay?" he explained, but his words seemed rushed, like he wanted to defend himself even more.

You didn't respond right away, watching him for a moment before you asked the next question that pushed him. "And you just.. kept them?"

His jaw clenched as he turned towards you "You're making it sound like I wanted them there. Do you think I sit around looking at–" he cut himself off, inhaling sharply.

His hand lifted from the steering wheel before it dragged down his face, as if he wanted to wipe the frustration away. "Y/n, I'm not into that shit alright?" He continued, his voice more quiet.

The way he said it 'not into that shit' made your stomach twist uncomfortably. You frowned, sitting up straighter "You mean.. guys?" you asked as your brows furrowed.

For a moment silence set in as you waited for him to answer. "I didn't mean it like that." He scoffed, shaking his head "Yeah, you did." you nodded in response.

His fingers tapped against his thigh, the familiar smug smirk visible on his face. "Look, I'm not gonna feel bad for not being into dudes, sorry if that offends you."

You scoffed "It's not about being into guys, Nate. It's the way you acted like it's disgusting or something." you explained, sighing heavily afterwards.

His smirk faded, because yes, a big part of him did find it disgusting and his thoughts were a mess regarding that topic. But he couldn't let you in on that yet.

"I didn't say that, okay? Sorry if it sounded like that. I'm just starting to get pissed off because this is so absurd." he said, as looked straight ahead again for a moment.

"I mean, did you seriously believe I'm into guys?" he asked, his voice sounding almost amused, before he turned towards you again for what he was about to say next. "After the way I fucked you last night?"

You averted your gaze, caught off guard as your breath caught in your throat. "Or what? Was I pretending back then?" You shifted in your seat as the memories flashed before your eyes "No, that's not what I–"

"And I asked you to be my girlfriend, did you forget that?" his eyes narrowed, watching you intently as his hand moved towards your thigh.

You didn't want to admit it, but he made sense you couldn't deny that. So why did you still feel so.. unsure?

Nate noticed the way the wheels were turning in your head, and he loved it. He was so fucking good at this– twisting your words until you weren't even sure why you were even arguing anymore.

"I didn't forget.." you quietly responded, your gaze falling to your lap. "Do you see what I mean now, how this doesn't make any sense?"

You sighed as you nodded slowly. "And also, I didn't wanna tell you this because I didn't want you to think I'm weird, but.. Cassie and Maddy were best friends."

Your eyes widened as you remembered that Max told you that back in his car. But you obviously couldn't tell Nate. "Oh.. who did you date first?" you asked, despite knowing the answer.

"Maddy, so tell me, do you really think Cassie would've dated me afterwards if she knew I choked Maddy?" You shook your head, agreeing that this was absolutely absurd.

Nate smiled softly, as his thumb stroked over your thigh. "Cassie is a liar, even if she acted as if she wasn't aware that you were the one on the phone, she probably was when you weren't responding."

God, you felt so stupid. Why did you believe some random girl who you didn't even know over your boyfriend? He did so much for you and even if he had a short temper sometimes, he wouldn't do something like that.

"I'm sorry.. I'm so stupid." you sighed, closing your eyes as you leaned against the headrest. "No you're not, you're just too naive and believe people too quickly." he reassured you.

"You could've just told me what happened right away, and we wouldn't have had this argument." you nodded again, placing your hand over his on your thigh.

"I'm so sorry," you apologized again, this time leaning in to hug Nate "I love you and I shouldn't have doubted you like this.. not after everything you've done for me." you mumbled into his neck.

Nate wrapped his arms around you, stroking your back softly "It's fine, baby. I'm not angry, I just don't wanna lose you." he reassured you, sighing in relief before he added "From now on no secrets anymore, yeah?".

You hummed in agreement "No more secrets." you smiled softly, before releasing him again "I'll go inside now, I still have to talk to my parents." you groaned.

Nate nodded, pressing the button to unlock the door again. Then he leaned in towards you, grabbing your chin before kissing you deeply. You kissed him back, your hand resting on his cheek.

When you broke the kiss and smiled at him, he smirked "Text me later, I'm curious about what they want from you this time." You nodded before saying goodbye and getting out of his car.

You waved at him as he drove off, before you made your way into your home.

As soon as Nate was out of sight, his jaw clenched again. He was furious– not at you, but at Cassie. What the fuck was she thinking? Why did she even mention all those things?

He had to talk to her and tell her to stay the fuck away from both of you. Now that everything he was scared would happen did happen and she had nothing to blackmail him with, he could finally cut her off for real this time.

And he wouldn't be nice about it.

As you entered your home you sighed, trying to calm down from the intense argument back at his place and his car. But then you remembered that you still had to deal with whatever your parents had to say.

You decided to deal with it right away instead of postponing it any further, and made your way into the living room.

You were met with the sight of your parents who were currently watching TV. When they saw you, your dad sat up straight before he turned the TV off "Y/n, you're back." he said with an apologetic smile.

Your mom also smiled at you, but her smile seemed almost condescending. "How was the party?" she asked as she crossed her arms "It was really good." you answered, before sitting down on the armchair.

"Well, now that you're here we can finally talk." She added, before glancing at your dad. "Your father got a new job offer.” You swallowed harshly as your heart seemingly stopped for a second.

You were well aware of what that meant.

It wasn’t the first time you heard that sentence, but right now it carried way more weight than ever before.

Your gaze wandered from your mother to your father, who was sighing “You can’t be serious.” you muttered, your voice lower than usually.

“Y/n, it’s a really good opportunity. I’d get the same amount of money and less hours. I’d finally be able to spend more time with you.” he softly explained, causing you to scoff “Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that?”

You crossed your arms as you fought back tears, your mind wandering to all the moments you had with Nate, completely unaware of the guilt clearly visible on your dad’s face.

“I know it hasn’t been perfect,” he admitted as he moved forward, placing his elbows on his knees “But I’m trying to make up for lost time. Time I spent working for us” he emphasized.

“So moving again is your way of fixing things?” you asked shakily, more than frustrated by how unfair your parents were treating you.

“This is about Nate, isn’t it?” Your mother suddenly interjected “You never complained this much before when we moved.” You froze as your gaze was fixed on her.

“I–that’s not true!” you protested, your brows furrowing in anger. She shrugged as if this wasn’t a big deal “It’s obvious, you’re attached to him because he’s your first boyfriend.” you squinted your eyes at her.

“But trust me, Nate isn’t the right one for you. You’re young, you’ll meet someone else, someone better.” Her words angered you even more, and you struggled to stay calm.

How could they do this to you, now that you finally found friends and a boyfriend who loved you so much? You scoffed before getting up “You might think you know him, but you have no idea how fucking ridiculous all of this is!”

Your mothers face turned into a scowl as she gave you a disapproving look “Language..” she scolded, before continuing “You’ll get over it, trust me.. even if it’ll be hard at first.”

You felt like everything you and Nate worked for was crumbling apart. You knew you were powerless regarding the decision of your parents, but you wished they’d let you have a say in this as well.

Your father jumped in in an attempt to reason with you “I’m sorry, I really wish it would work out here but it just doesn’t.. I realized how burnt out I am currently. And with the new work it’ll all get better. And I’m sure you’ll meet new people.”

You did feel bad for him, but it just felt like this realization should’ve come earlier, since he’s been this absent ever since you were a child. You simply nodded, tears stinging your eyes as you glared at him.

“Where are we gonna move, and when..?” You asked shakily “Urbandale.. it’s a city in Ottawa.” your mother replied, causing your eyes to widen “We’re moving to Canada?” you asked in disbelief.

Your father nodded “I have an appointment there next week, to check out the area and our new place. I’m sure it’ll be just as nice and calm as this neighborhood.” You blinked at your dad, unable to say anything.

“If everything goes according to plan, we’ll be able to move there next month.” You bit your lip nervously, trying to distract yourself from the tears that were threatening to spill.

“I’ll go now.” you answered sharply before you exited the living room. As soon as you went towards your room the tears started running down your cheeks.

You closed the door behind you, breathing heavily as the words kept repeating in your head. You couldn’t believe that they were actually serious, totally rejecting your feelings.

You quickly wiped your tears away and pulled out your phone, shakily swiping across the screen as you searched for Nate’s contact.

You knew that he was probably still in his car and maybe he’d pick you up again. Your parents might be against it but they couldn’t stop you.

You sighed one last time before you pressed the call button. It rang a few seconds before he finally picked up. “Hey, is everything okay?”

That sentence alone made you sob, stopping you from answering right away. “Baby.. what’s wrong?” he asked again, his tone concerned.

“C-can you pick me up again? I.. can’t sleep here tonight..” you shakily responded as you moved away from the door, running your hand through your hair in frustration.

“I’m on my way, give me five minutes.” he instantly assured you before hanging up and turning around at the next crossroad, not even minding the traffic laws as he sped back towards your place.

He knew that something huge must’ve happened for you to actually call him, and ask him to pick you up. He cursed your parents for making you feel this way, his jaw tensing as he tried to stay calm.

✎ Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, feel free to give me feedback!! :♡

- Cassandra

Taglist:

@lilyrachelcassidy, @endless----love, @sophsss867, @jennnsthings, @digitalpup444, @vividfleur, @tsofo26, @lunalvrsblog, @sunshinedaisy21, @carley12041, @cc13723things, @amortentiaaaa, @wtrpxrks, @b4mbiette, @dumbasscorn

[divinedelusional]

feels so good to be needed

nate archibald x fem reader

a/n: first smut for natie! hope you like it guys, requested by my fave lulu xoxo

warnings: smut, mdni!!! 18+, oral (m receiving), female masturbation, praise kink, slightly sub Nate (he's just our needy boo) and dom reader

You and Nate were in a bind. Golden couple of Upper East Side's most prestigious high schools couldn't reach an agreement. The thing was that Nate got sick and for the first day he wouldn't let you stay in his room for more than 10 minutes, panicked that you'd catch something.

"Nate, cold is not some deadly sickness, you know that?" you chuckled. You were sitting on his desk, watching him from a distance he required from you.

"Of course I know, but do you want to look like I do on our trip to France?" Nate gestured to his bed, where layed a bunch of used tissues, new box of them opened, thermometr and empty packet of aspirin he just dissolved in water and was about to drink.

He had a point, but still you hated to see your boyfriend like this and not being able to help.

You sighed and picked up your purse.

"You're lucky that we don't live together yet, and that school is for two more days. Otherwise you wouldn't get rid of me today that easily".

Nate rolled his eyes.

"I love you" he said.

"False, you'd let me kiss you if you loved me" you stuck your tounge at him.

"No, y/n not today" he said and as universe took his side, it hit him with a fit of coughing.

"Okay, okay" you gave up. "But I'll see you tomorrow. Drink your aspirin and go to sleep" you pointed your finger at him.

"Yes, mom" he said to which you rolled you eyes this time.

Luckily Nate was getting better. Next day he slept half the day and you brought him chicken noodle soup for late lunch. Even though the fever was wearing off he still wouldn't let you close to him. You left him essential oils to put in diffuser or to steam in the shower.

"Lavender is not first choice for stuffy nose, but it will help you sleep for sure" you told him when he jumped to bed after taking a shower. He almost immediately closed his eyes, sinking into the plushy pillows. You dripped the sheets around the pillows with lavender oil and stood next to the bed watching your boyfriend. He mumbled a thank you and in his tired state he didn't even protest when you kissed his forehead. He fell asleep almost right after, a smile appeared on his face after feeling your lips on his skin.

Next day he woke up, feeling so much better cold wise. His nose wasn't stuffed anymore and he wasn't shivering when he untagled himself from warm duvet. Smell of essential oil was lingering in his bedroom so was your kiss that you planted on his forehead last night.

Nate was really missing you. You and your touch mostly. He saw you yesterday, but he didn't kiss you for 3 days. And always when the worst symptoms disappeared he started to get needy. He was aware that he was the one who told you not to kiss him or get to close, but that was for your own good. Now it was almost noon and he still felt good, at least his state didn't get worse. No fever, no stuffy nose, nothing. Just a little headache and ache and longing for you.

It really was his lucky day, because you just texted him that you're gonna come visit him earlier, due to canceled biology class. Biggest grin appeared on his face as he was texting you back. He ran down to the kitchen asking the help to pick up some fresh fruits to have as snacks and then went back upstairs, to change the bedsheets and take out fresh blankets. He hoped that you wouldn't tease him about not letting you close to him and you would cuddle with him while watching a movie or something. After half an hour he decided that everything looks decent, bed was made as comfortable as it could get, trays with fresh fruits and croissaints were put on his desk. Suddenly his headache reminded of itself and he decided to lay down. He must have dozed off and heard a quiet knock on a door, which was enough to wake him up.

"Come in!" he called, voice slightly hoarse.

Door opened and he saw your smiling face.

"Hi bubba, how are you feeling?" you asked, coming up to his side, putting a hand on his forehead to check temperature.

"Better, much better in fact" he said, lifting his head up and putting a chaste kiss to your wrist.

"Oh I see you've changed your mind about staying apart, hm?" you teased, caressing his cheek with your knuckles.

"You know that I can't stay apart from you too long" he whispered leaning into your touch.

"Good, because neither can I" you said and sat beside him, putting your bag on the floor. You were quick to close the distance between you and Nate. You kissed hesitantly at first and then he slid his tounge into your mouth, exploring it in very slow pace, but you liked it that way. He put one hand on your waist, pulling you closer. Your kiss begin to get desperate and when you pulled away for air, Nate whined into your mouth, chasing it. He kissed you again and the neediness that was lingering before, was now fully expressed. He panted when you pulled away.

"You missed us, huh?" you grinned.

"Oh you have no idea" Nate rasped. "You know how I get after...oh shit" you straddled his legs and began to kiss down his throat. "I couldn't wait for you to come over today, I need you so bad" he lifted his hips, to get closer. You were moving you hips back and forth now on his lap and the bulge was starting to form in his boxers. You were needy for him too. You waited patiently for him to get better, as you knew he was going to be like this. And you knew perfectly what to do to make him feel better.

"My poor baby, that cold was a torture for you, you're so needy"

"Yes, I am, oh so bad"

"Yes, yes I know, but I don't want you to lift a finger okay, Natie? I know exactly what you need, I'm gonna take such good care of you baby" you said hopping of his lap. "You just relax and let me to everything okay? Can you do that for me, Natie?" you cooed.

Nate nooded, as you leaned down to undress his bottom half. He kicked of his sweats of his ankles, moaning when you palmed his bulge through his boxers. You looked at his face as you massaged his cloathed balls. That always added an extra kick to his pleasure.

"Oh, oh y/n, please..."

"Please what honey? What dou you need? Do we have the same thing in mind?" you asked when you were taking his boxers off.

"I'-I think so" he panted "You're gonna suck me off"

"That's right, make space for me"

You laid down between his legs, you rested your head on his thigh while you were still playing with his balls.

"Baby please, I need this, put me in your mouth, please"

"You know I can never say no to you" you smiled at him and moved your face to his dick, you mouth inches away from it.

"Hi" you whispered softly "Such a pretty thing" you felt an ache in your pussy and your mouth filled with saliva. You opened it, taking your boyfriend's dick into your mouth. You took him fully in just one go. You stayed like that for a second, enjoying a feeling of having your mouth full with his cock. You hollowed your cheeks and began bobbing your head up and down in slow movements.

Nate had his head pressed into the pillows as he felt the hotness of your velvety walls around him. Fuck, he loved it so much. He was weak for you always, but even weaker today. He already was thinking how to last longer not to make this end so quickly. Sighes and small moans were leaving his mouth as you continued with your slow pace. He thought he was going to want you go faster, but he enjoyed this tempo and was feeling like he was in heaven. Pleasure was building in him slowly, but oh so amazingly. Very carefully you started to go faster, twisting your head slightly from left to right. Somehow you managed to take even more of him into your mouth and he began to pant, his breath quickend.

"What are you fucking doing to me, baby, shit" he opened his eyes and lifted his head off the pillows a little bit and did all in his power not to cum in the spot. The sight of you, taking him fully with your eyes closed, pleasure written all over your face, you were enjoying this as much as he did. You didn't know that he was watching you and while your left hand was playing with his balls your right went to your clit. Nate couldn't take this. He fell on the pillows and burried both of his hands in your hair, making a make shift ponytail with one.

"You're doing so fucking great for me y/n, no one fucks me like you do, baby"

You moaned around him, vibrations only adding to extreme delight he was experiencing under your touch.

"Fuck me faster, make us both cum, oh shit yes, just like that"

You were now moving the fastest you could, his dick hitting the back of your throat. His moans increased in volume, becoming whines. He always sounded so pretty, his moans always turning you on more. You were drawing tight circles on your clit, matching it with a speed you were fucking Nate with.

"Yesss, just like that, don't stop, don't fucking stop" he chanted. His abs flexed and cock twitched. He was almost there, so were you. You sucked with extra pressure, your throat tight around him.

"Baby, I'm not gonna last, oh my god, I'm fucking coming, yesss" with a loud groan he came, your mouth filled with his hot cum. The coil in your belly snaped as you where sucking him dry, fucking him through his orgasm.

Nate was panting heavily, staring onto the celling.

"Soo, how do you feel now?" you asked with a grin and he only smiled.

"You know how"

You chuckled.

"I don't fucking know how you do that, but holy shit"

"I just love you and your dick, baby" you responed with a tone like you'd state that the sky is blue and grass green. Nate laughed and twirled the strand of your hair.

"Thank you"

"Anything for my baby" you said and started kissing his abs. Then you climed up and laid your head down on his chest. You were laying in a comfortable silence under a thin sheet.

"Hey what's in that bag you brought?"

"Oh it's our favourite wraps, you know that place in Village"

"That's great, I got us fresh fruits, thought you'd like that"

"Yes honey, we need our vitamins, especially you, we can make fruit salads after we have wraps"

Nate kissed you and you stayed like that, kissing in a warm embrace. You climed on top of your boyfriend once again.

"It's great we have all this food, you know, we'll be hungry after" you said grabbing his semi hard cock in your hand.

Your boyfriend smirked. "Yeah, hungry after what?"

"My favourite dessert" you smiled innocently "You know I like to have it before lunch"

"Hit the jackpot with you" Nate said when you made your way down. You gave couple licks to his tip and then you were spreading cum all over his dick with your thumb.

"Mhm" you nodded, not lifting your face up. "So did I"

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