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cuteandhughesy · 5 months ago

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You Are In Love | Matthew Knies

summary: john tavares' sister is the social media manager for the leafs. she loves her job and the friendships she forms with the team - but what happens when her older brother invites her new crush to live with them.

[word count] 14.2k

a/n: okay I write this like over a year ago so it’s not the best! also i originally wrote it with an original character in mind - so if you see a name instead oh y/n….no you didn’t.

🎵 your are in love by taylor swift

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"he doesn't have a place to stay, so I offered him the other spare," john's voice was grainy over your cellphone speaker but you heard his words loud and clear. "It's the right thing to do."

"yeah!" you we're kind of in...shock. "The kids will love it..." they would - you weren't lying. that doesn't change the fact that you were kind of nervous.

your brother must've been able to tell by your tone, "you okay?" he asked.

you cleared your throat. "yeah."

"he's a good kid and he's your age - you've met him right?"

you have in fact met him. you have worked for the leafs for about a year. they had needed a new social media manager and somebody to run their teams tiktok account. When john told you, he said the team wanted more fun and interactive content on their pages and recommended you.

you had the degree and the charisma so you were hired with no questions. The fans loved the style of content you were posting, and the team had a great time answering your questions and lip syncing to stupid audios.

you were introduced to the newest maple leaf only a week ago. matthew knies had answered one of your daily questions before a practice and you were totally in awe. convinced you had never seen a better looking guy your age, you immediately developed a crush on the rookie.

so yeah, "I've met him two or three times. very polite."

"yeah," john says. jace runs into your legs and you grunt out from the force of your nephew slamming into your shins.

aryne walks into the living room with baby rae in her arms, she was feeding her. "is that john? is he on his way?"

"are you on your way?" you relay his wife's question. you can hear his turn signal in the background.

"yeah, 10 minutes away."

"10 minutes," you tell your sister in law. she smiles at you, ruffling jace's hair as she passes. your nephew has climbed into your lap, playing with the string of your hoodie.

"so," you begin, "when does he move in? do I need to get the bedroom ready..or?" you tried not to make yourself seem to eager to know. your brother couldn't know about your crush on his teammate.

"no no, i'll do the room. don't worry," john says, "he'll be moving in, probably in the next few days. I'll get everything ready when I get in."

you hold in a sigh. "okay, well, i'll let you go, I've gotta wake Axton up and help out with dinner."

"okay, I'll see you all in a bit. love you guys."

"love you," you say, "Jace say bye daddy." you hold the phone up to the little boys ear and he says just what you told him to. John and you laugh and then hang up.

yourself and aryne get dinner started after axton woke from his nap. aryne and you had always gotten along great, which is lucky considering she's married into the family. you're just glad she wasn't some stuck up girl like the kind of girls you'd grown up with. she was like the sister you've never had, which is why she could tell something was on your mind.

"you're quiet," she observes, slicing her knife through the carrot sticks. "you okay?"

"yeah," you say it too cheerful and immediately cringe at yourself, eyes not leaving the potatoes you'd been peeling. "just you know, nervous about the new...roomie. it's like college all over again," you try and laugh it off but aryne raises a brow.

"why would you be nervous?"

there really wasn't a point in lying to her. not only was she like a big sister but she acted like a best friend. "aryne I'm convinced i'm in love with him. he's the most beautiful man I've ever seen." you groan, hands falling into the pile of peelings in defeat.

"oh god," she says. she puts her knife down as jace and axton run through the kitchen giggling. "boys! no running please."

"Don't tell john," you say. "It's nothing serious - just a crush!"

"You know me," aryne says, hand on her hip. "our secrets stay our secrets." she goes back to her chopping. "besides," you look towards her with raised brows, "he's a cutie, maybe you guys will -"

"enough!" you throw a peel at her.

"hey!" johns voice calls through the house, and the sound of four feet running towards him can be heard. baby rae giggles and coos in her high chair as your brother enters the kitchen.

"hey," he repeats, kissing aryne on the lips and squeezing your shoulder on his way past. "what are you two gossiping about,"

"nothing," you say, putting the potatoes in the pot as you and aryne begin boiling the soup.

—

matthew had moved in a week ago. you were right, jace and axton adored him. so did you but you didn't mention that to anybody except aryne and only after two glasses of wine.

you're sure he is actually the sweetest guy like ever. not only does he treat your nephews and niece with the most gentle care, but he has so much love and respect for your brother and sister in law for letting him stay in their home. aryne says she sees him looking at you often, but you don't believe her. matthew was just as lovely when he spoke to you at home and at work - which is weird saying 'see you at home' to two leafs now - but you digress.

It was wenesday morning practice, and you were working. it was question day, so last night around midnight when you happened to remember - you grabbed the bristol board and sharpie and wrote: 'who's your celebrity crush?'

you stood near the entrance of the rink, cup of hot tea in your hands, with the board propped up against your legs. your co - worker, maddie, was holding the work phone, ready to record the players heading onto the ice, answering the prompt as they came from the locker room.

morgan rielly came first and chuckled at the sign.

"cmon mo, give us an answer," you laughed along with him.

he hummed for a moment but settled on, "megan fox."

you and maddie were getting a lot of the same answers, megan fox or margot robbie with an odd ball thrown in every now and then.

"here we go," you laughed knowingly as mitch marner slowed down to read the sign. he dropped his head back in defeat, "can I say my fiancé?"

you groaned, "mitch no."

and then you noticed another body slow down and read the sign as well. you tried not to blush when you smelt the cologne on matthews neck, a dead giveaway that it was him.

mitch rubbed his jaw, "you guys make these too hard," mitch concludes, "you're trying to put me in the dog house."

matthew laughs and your knees get weak.

maddie scoffs, "it's not hard, you're just difficult."

"exactly," you agree.

"alright, let me see the phone," mitch grabbed the cellphone, directing it in your direction, a giggling maddie behind mitch's shoulder. "alright, kniesy , get your interview pants on."

and matthew goes along with it. you didn't think he was comfortable enough - too shy maybe but no. he held a fake microphone towards your mouth and asked "who's your celebrity crush, Ms. Y/N Tavares?"

you felt your face wanting to get hot and you internally scolded yourself. "oh you know.."

"it's not difficult," mitch mocks you and matthew laughs.

you grab the non existent microphone, which just ends up with you pulling Matthew's glove closer to your face, holding his hand in place. "oh my god, It's Dylan O'brien you freaks." matthew laughs as he looks down at you. "now let me do my job and ask you the questions."

mitch gives a laughing maddie the phone back as william nylander walks out, followed by john. your brother barley stops to look but laughs, walking away as he calls out his answer.

william ponders briefly but says, "madison beer." mitch sucks in air fast, "good one!" mitch starts to walk away, "i'll say margot robbie!"

"boring!" maddie shouts with a laugh.

matthew stands with his hand on his hips and takes a deep breath but then he just like, walks away which is...rude.

"hey," you say, "are you going to answer?"

he looks back with what looks so be a slight smirk, "I can't tell - it's a secret!" and you swear you see him wink at you, but based on maddie's reaction of turning to you all wide eyed and open mouthed - you are certain matthew knies definitely winked at you.

—

matthew was sitting on the family room couch, scrolling through his phone as you came down the stairs. at the sound of your foot steps, he looked up and towards you, a small smile overtaking his lips.

you sent him a closed mouth smile back. "hey."

"morning," matthew said. he couldn't help but notice how fresh you looked. you had just showered and gotten ready, and matthew was smitten at the smell of your strawberry honey shampoo mixed with whatever sweet fragrance you sprayed on.

"are the kids up yet?" you didn't hear them, so you knew the answer already.

"don't think so," he hums, "just us so far."

you nod in agreement. "well, I was gunna head for some tims coffee before anybody had woken up, but, I mean, did you want to come with me?"

he was up off the couch before you could finish, "yeah." he said it so casually and the way he whipped on his hat so perfectly and grabbed his keys was just....ugh.

you two made small talk until you were both seated and buckled into matthews car. he passed you the aux cord wordlessly, which was just, wow. you bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling too hard and took the cable from him, hitting shuffle on your playlist.

"so," he started, pulling out of the driveway, flicking on his signal for the passing cars on the street. "how long have you been working for the team?"

he glanced at you quickly before pulling onto the street, the gps pulled up on his phone between his (massive thighs) legs, letting him know where to go.

"probably about a year now...and maddie joined me about 3 months ago. she's great and has helped a lot." after all, what if matthew wasn't winking at you but maddie - what if all this time he's been trying to get know maddie. how humiliating would that be - god he probably doesn't even think -

"do you like it?" matthew brought you out of your depletion. the way he had said it was almost like he could read your thoughts and he was telling your brain to shut up.

matthew didn't know you were johns sister when he first met you. not until you were introduced as so. sure, you both had dark hair and the same eyes, but you were a girl and matthew was clueless so why would he assume that the girl who thought was the most beautiful woman he's ever seen was related to his new captain.

it wasn't until auston matthews said, "have you met johns sister yet?"

"I don't think so," matthew said, "was I supposed to?" he had been confused because why would johns sister be there.

"our social media girl? you know, the hot one with dark hair." auston said it so nonchalantly but matthew felt his face drop. it couldn't be.

"fuck." was all he could say because fuck was right. he was lusting over his captains sister.

"yeah, I love it actually," your answer to his question snapped matthew out of his thoughts. "everybody is so lovely, and the friendships i've gained with the guys, it's amazing...even when mitch drives me up the wall."

he could just tell by the tone of your voice that you truly loved working for them. his phone alerted him they were two minutes away from tim hortans.

"the guys like having you around," matthew says. "or at least I do anyways, It's nice."

"thanks. means a lot." you look over at him and admire his side profile. he is so handsome. the music stops and changed over to the next song. with furrowed brows, matthew glances to the screen and then smirks. "big swiftie?"

you were kinda shocked that's what he said first and didn't slander her. "yeah," you said carefully. "are you?"

he laughed, "duh."

you gave him a skeptical look as the car pulled into the entrance of the coffee shop. he glanced over and saw your face in disbelief and rolled his eyes playfully.

you laughed out in shock, "hey! you can't blame me for being skeptical."

"you're right," he surrenders one of his hands, the other using the wheel to steer them into a parking spot (which was super hot.) "what If I told you i'm in my 1989 era? would you believe me?"

he unbuckled his seatbelt and you stared at him fondly. a look that had matthews stomach doing flips. "yeah. i'd believe you."

"good." he jumped out of the car and rounded to your side to open the damn door like some gentleman and you swooned. a swiftie and opening the door? was he just full of green flags? "you're definitely in your lover era," he states, "the vibes are too strong for any other era."

you laughed. "lover is great."

and when you both made it inside and started the order, you felt like crying when matthew ordered timbits for the kids, got john and aryne a drink and asked what you wanted and then payed for it all wordlessly - you swore you were in love.

as you waited for the drinks you could feel matthews eyes looking down towards you, because hell he was tall and had no choice but to look at the top of your head. "do you always get that drink?"

you rolled your head back to look into his eyes and nodded. "yeah, you can try it if you want."

"i'll stick to my hot drink," he smirks. "hot coffee over cold all day."

you have him a perplexed look. "what?! you're wrong."

"I'm not!" he laughs, moving to grab the tray of beverages as the teen calls it out from behind the counter. "my taste it clearly superior if we're even having this conversation."

you chuckle, "sure big guy."

back in his vehicle, your music resumes from where it left off, the stunning cords of corniela street flowing through the speakers once more.

"that would be a good question for your account." Matthew starts and you raise your brows in question. "ask the boys what their favourite Taylor swift song is? I bet the fan girls will love it - mitch too."

you think it actually would be a good question and take a mental note. "I agree."

It was after a team breakfast when you chose to go around with your mini - microphone to ask the boys questions for this weeks video. the team was all dressed comfortably, which is a nice change for the feed, most of them happy and full of delicious food so it was easy to get them to comply for the video.

It was just you today, maddie had the day off so you went around with your phone in one hand, paperwork under one arm and mini mic in the other hand.

"nick, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" nick robertson looked at you with raised eyebrows. he kissed his teeth and his hands on his hips before leaning down to the microphone.

"anti - hero." you thanked him and he laughed. "was that a good answer?"

you smiled, "yes."

and you kept moving, asking any player who you laid eyes on.

"joseph, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" "love story"

"willy, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" "look what you made me do."

"mitch, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" "my fiancés is cardigan so cardigan."

"auston, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" you asked the forward, with a smirk on his lips he looked down at you.

"I don't know any." he was teasing you, obviously.

"yes you do," you laughed, "think hard."

"I am."

matthew could hear your laugh from across the room and his eyes landed upon you and auston. he was looking at you with a look that Matthew didn't like and you were laughing at what he was saying and that made him feel a bit...funny.

before he couldn't even think about what he was doing, he marched over there, abandoning his conversation with kerfoot and joining you and auston.

"hey," matthew says. "are you doing questions today?"

and just like that, you smiled that bashful smile and your cheeks got warm and matthew felt good.

"yeah!" you said, microphone swiveling towards matthew as you captured the two of them on video. "matthew, what's your favourite taylor swift song?"

he smiled and wanted to scream. you had used his question. it filled him so much joy and pride because auston may find you hot and make you laugh but you were using his questions and blushing at him.

"well, y/n," matthew started, taking the mini - microphone from your hands and bringing it to his mouth. you giggled. like an actual little girl. "my favourite taylor swift is cornelia street."

you spit thickened and you felt like you couldn't swallow. oh, you think, that's the song you had played in the car when he proposed the question. it was so...sweet.

"mines probably you belong with me," auston speaks and you have to blink hard because you forgot the goal scorer was even there.

matthew was looking at you with a look that makes you hot and bothered. you're sure now, this isn't been in your head. he was flirting.

"thanks, yeah," you take back you're microphone, "thanks. I better go ask o'rielly the same question, he looks left out."

and then you just left, matthews eyes burning into your retreating figure.

you were so screwed.

—

after that video went out, fans were absolutely loving matthew knies. and fair enough, you think. he was especially popular with the leafs female audience, and once again, you couldn't blame them.

fans wanted more matthew knies - they loved him and loved when you posted videos with him or about him. you also happened to love it too so it was a win win.

"it'll be quick!" you say quickly, "don't you want me to succeed at my job? give me content." you pass your brother the phone.

matthew laughs at your words and you smile.

"do you think you have the idea of it john?" you and already explained when to stop the audio and when to pan to who about 8 times now.

"yeah, yeah." he says. "why can't I be in the video?"

"well one, the audio is only two people," you point out, fixing your hair, "and two, the fans love matthew. you're outdated old man."

your brother laughs.

"okay, ready?" you ask matthew.

he crosses his arms and it makes his chest look even broader. "oh yeah, y/n/n, cmon now."

john doesn't catch on to the lovetseuck look you're definitely giving his teammate - thank god. probably too busy thinking over his instructions again.

"okay, john," you say.

the tiktok starts and the audio begins. you instructed him to focus on you for the first portion. you begin lip syncing to emma chamberlains met gala interview with jack harlow.

"i'll see you in there,"

video stops. you tell him to pan to matthew then, who delivers his line perfectly in your opinion.

"cant wait. love you, bye."

he chuckles when the video stops and you can't help but smile at him. you tell john that both you and matthew will be in the next shot.

"love you," you lipsync with a smile and as instructed, matthew walks out of view, and the last seconds of the video you give a shocked look to the camera - playing out the original interview clip perfectly.

matthew laughs and you and john join him. "ugh, perfect."

john gives you a high five and moves to collect his bag out of the trunk of his vehicle.

matthew joins you as you watch the tiktok over. his body is warm against your back, breathing soft and it tickles your exposed neck, making your stomach tingle.

"they'll love it," you say, "my bosses and the fans."

"how could they not?" he says, eyes looking into yours. "we killed it. you killed it, like usual."

"don't praise me matthew it turns me on." you say before you can even think of who you're talking to. what the fuck, your face drops, why did I say that? "I mean -"

matthew looks at you with a look you can't quite decipher and then he says, "good." he smirks and just leaves, grabbing his bag and walking into the players section of the arena with john. leaving you dumbfounded.

after making sure the audio was properly synced up and that everything looked okay, you posted the tiktok to the maple leafs account with the caption: when the knies/tavares household pulls up for work.

your favourite comment was one you found that said they shipped you and matthew - but you kept that information to yourself.

—

matthew couldn't help but glance at you discreetly once again. he had actually lost count of all the times he found himself admiring the side of your face, only lit up by the movie playing infront of you.

he was slightly smirking when you looked over at him, "matthew, pay attention." you scolded, pulling the blanket up to your chin and rolling towards him on your side. you weren't touching, but the heat of his body made you shiver.

"sorry," he breathes, eyes moving back to the movie.

"I can't believe you've never seen this before, It's a classic." you stated.

"I don't usually like romance movies," matthew says.

you sit up slightly, "how to loose a guy in 10 days isn't just a romance movie," matthew laughs as you try and mimic his voice, "it's funny and unique and creative and- ugh, just look-" you are distracted by Matthew McConaughey teaching Kate Hudson how to ride a motorcycle. "if I was that annoying and somebody still fell in love with me, I'd be smitten."

"you are that annoying," matthew is giving you a look when you scoff and roll your eyes at him. just then the two of you are both laughing, matthews head falling to your shoulder.

"I can't believe you," it's a whisper as it leaves your lips, eyes downcast as you look into matthews eyes. his head is still on your shoulder, looking up at you like a giant puppy dog. "i'm not annoying."

he smirks and you have to refrain from kissing him. "you're not annoying, no."

you smile triumphantly before pushing his head off you softly, to which it's his turn to scoff into the dark room. "rude."

"you love it."

"i do," matthew says back. he watches your face heat up as you try and keep focused on the tv. he's in trouble.

you had always found him attractive, but something about him helping the kids make mini pizzas had you wanting to fuck the shit out of matthew knies.

he was so gentle with the boys, and you're heart just melted everytime.

john and aryne had gone out for the night for a date - which was much needed. the leafs had an off day, which was rare, so you made your brother and his wife take the time and focus on them - with the promise you and matthew would watch the kids. well, you promised you watch the kids. you told matthew he should go out with hang with his friends but he declined. 'I'd much rather stay here with you...and the kids of course'

oh okay matthew i'll just fall more in love with you.

"wow, jace look at your pepperoni smiley face!" you're holding rae as you praise your nephew and he giggles, showing you his little teeth. "is it ready for the oven?"

"yes," jace said.

"okay, hold my hand to get down." his little palm grabbed yours and he slid off the kitchen chair.

"matthew, is axton almost done?" jace pulled on the leg of matthews sweat pants with a giggle.

matthew looked down and laughed at the kids sweet expression, "just about buddy."

you rounded the island to looked at your other nephews pizza. "wow!" you smiled and axton gave you a toothy grin.

"axton wanna show your aunt how you put the cheese on?" matthew asked him and you gave an encouraging nod when the blonde looked back up at you.

his chubby little fist grabbed a handful of shredded mozzarella and let it fall on the pizza with a laugh.

"good job baby!" you said, ruffling his hair. "is it ready to go in the oven?"

"yes," he gurgled.

"alrighty," matthew picked him up, swinging his little body out of the chair and placing his feet on the ground. "let's get these in the oven, don't touch okay guys. it's very hot."

"listen to matthew - I gotta put your sister down for bed, okay? i'll be back soon" you told them and they nodded. matthew watched your retreating figure with a grin on his face. he had put the two pizzas in the oven and sat with jace and axton in the living room. the boys were playing with toy cars and then suddenly jace bounced over onto matthews lap with a cheeky grin.

"what's up dude?"

"do you love my aunt y/n?"

"what?" matthew asked, tickling his stomach to make the boy laugh. "where'd you learn that from?"

"I learned from mommy." he said. "she says to aunt y/n that you love her."

oh, he thinks, am I that obvious about my feelings.

"i love everybody in this house. even you jacey." matthew says and jace, satisfied, leaves his lap, playing with his toys again, the only sound being the toy car wheels running on the hardwood floor and the hum of the over cooking the pizzas.

matthew thinks about you then, and how perfect you are. your smell, your smile, you're body...he needs a cold shower and a reality check.

later after you ate dinner and put the boys to sleep, you and matthew were busy in the kitchen. matthew was putting away pizza toppings and wiping down the counter top while you were elbow deep in soap suds.

you heard matthew chuckle to himself and you quirked an eyebrow, looking over his shoulder.

"what's so funny over there?"

he looked up at the sound of your voice and shook his head. "nothing, just -" he collected a handful of dirty dishes left over on the island and brought them over to the filled sink. "-earlier, jace asked me If I loved his aunt y/n."

your hands stopped scrubbing the plate you were working on, looking up towards him on your left. he was leaning his hip against the counter, arms crossed as he watched you.

"oh, god," you chuckled breathlessly. "sorry, he's just, curious."

"I don't mind, really." matthew says it quick and it makes you swallow hard. "At least he doesn't think I hate you...which is good. because I don't."

"right," you laughed, "I don't hate you either."

he looks at you all soft and you just want to grab his face with your hands, soap and all, and kiss him.

"y/n..." his arms uncross and it looks like he's about to reach out and touch you. "I've been waiting-"

the code beeps at the front door. "we're home." aryne says, smile happy and cheeks warm. stomach full of one glass of wine...or two glasses.

you try not to let your face show disappointment as matthew does the same.

"the kids go down okay?" john asks, tossing his keys on the counter.

"yeah," you clear your throat, eyes darting back to the sink. "everything is great."

"thanks again," aryne says, hugging your waist from behind. "you guys are the best."

"of course." matthew said. you glanced at him softly out of the corner of your eye, but he was already looking at you.

—

with the playoffs, it was harder to get content like you usually strive after. the boys were busy with extra practices and they were extremely focused on trying to win games - which, you know, was good.

so you got the most content with fans before the games, taking pictures and videos for the account - which was just as fun.

the guys rocked the first round and you texted matthew every night when they were in tampa, congratulating him on his goals and the teams performance: you tried not to scream of joy when he had sent back the kissing face emoji.

fast forward to a rather difficult round two. thankfully the leafs had pushed it to a game five, which was...good you suppose but still nerve wracking nonetheless.

you had been standing with aryne when it happened. often when you worked, you tried to join aryne and the kids during the warm up to capture some family content for the page. you were entertaining jace as the boys played, your eyes weren't even watching the ice or anybody but then the crowd stood in a rather negative uproar - and not the kind of disappointment when flordia scored a goal - it was different.

"oh no," aryne winced and your eyes shot up, seeing matthew laying on the ice looking rather...uncomfortable.

"what's happening?" you asked her. the trainer had reached matthew and was speaking to him with a hand on his back.

"he kinda got...slammed down. his head hit the ice."

it took a few minutes but he slowly got up, but had headed straight down to the tunnel. the game resumed but you had been too distracted by what happened to pay attention. 20 minutes passed and he still hasn't returned, which wasn't good.

"maybe you should go check on him?" aryne suggested.

you stopped biting at the skin of your thumb. "no, i'm okay." you said it quick and not even you were convinced at your own words.

aryne sighed. "y/n..."

you didn't budge.

"he doesn't have any family here besides us...I'm worried too and axton keeps asking about him - and I can see that you're stressed. go."

you took a moment but nodded in agreement, "okay, yeah," you grabbed your pass around your neck as a nervous habit, "yeah, are you okay with the kids?"

"of course," she said.

"I'll text you."

It didn't take long to reach the assessment room. that's where you found matthew and the team doctor and trainers. they turned at the sound of you entering the room and the trainer sent you a tight lip smile. the doctor was doing another test on matthew but you could tell by his eyes. something was wrong.

"is he okay?" you asked billy, the usual trainer, in a whisper.

"concussion for sure," he sighed, "even if the season keeps going, he won't be able to play."

you felt like crying for him. his nhl dream is cut short for the season. "oh." you whispered.

"y/n?" matthew asked. you tucked some hair behind your ear and moved towards him.

"hey.." you sat down in the stall next to him. billy was directed by the doctor to speak outside, giving you and matthew a moment alone. "how are you feeling?"

"like shit," he sighs, head falling back against the stall. "This sucks." you think you see his lip quiver and that makes your heart ache.

"It does," you agree, placing a hand on his knee and rubbing it soothingly.

"how come you came down here?" matthew asked, "i'll be fine."

you shake your head and look down, tears collecting in your waterline. "oh you know...the boys were wanting me to check -" you look up towards his face and he looks at you so concerned - the guy with the concussion was looking at you like he was concerned about you.

"I was so worried." you admit finally, tears welling in your eyes. "i'm just...sad for you."

"don't cry," he says softly, "I don't want you to be worried about me. I'll be okay." he tucks a piece of hair being your ear, hand trailing down your pleather jacket. "I mean, I got a killer headache but it'll go away," you gave him a look. "besides, if you worry too much you'll give yourself a stroke and then our new social media manager won't be you and then I can't flirt." he was trying to be funny.

"don't crack jokes," you try and scold him, "it's not funny." you can't help but smile though.

his fingers play with your keycard around your neck. "I feel better seeing you though. anytime I see you I automatically just feel like 100 times better."

"matthew," you whisper, "you're too concussed to be flirting like this."

"yeah, but," he grabs your cheek softly, "I mean it. y/n, I really like talking with you, and flirting with you, and hanging out with you. the other day in the kitchen...I was going to tell you but then your brother came in- I know I like you."

you smirked, "like as a friend or.."

"shut up.." he mumbled through his grin.

you kiss him, gently as you didn't want to shake his brain anymore than it's already been shook. his lips carefully move against yours in a way that feels so soft and comfortable you could cry again. matthews hand drops from your face and down your chest, forearm wrapping all the way around your waist until he's pulling you to stand, dragging you towards him, slipping his thick leg between both of yours.

he grunts out and the buzzer goes off throughout the area, signalling the end of a period. reluctantly, you pull away, hands caressing the side of his face. "did that hurt your head?"

the way you ask it so genuinely makes matthew feel like he's healed. he smirks lazily up at you, "no -i'm feeling really good."

the door clicks, signaling its being opened and you jump away from him, running a hand over your hair in attempt to look natural- and if matthew had to cover his crotch that was nobody's business.

later after a disappointing end to the game, successfully ending the leafs season, you all made it home. aryne had ordered pizza as john said he wanted something greasy - which was nice. the entire time at the table, you kept catching matthews eyes, to which he'd smirk and look away. you're positive your cheeks were permanently red for the duration of dinner.

and when you slipped your foot up matthews leg and he had to cough to cover his gasp, well, you couldn't help but smile cheekily to yourself.

you were laying in bed. glancing at the clock at the top left of your phone screen you groaned put. 1:38 a.m.

without thinking much of it, you opened your text messages.

y/n tavares

you can't tell john

his replay came almost immediately.

matthew knies

I won't

matthew knies

why are you still awake?

y/n tavares

just been thinking a lot

y/n tavares

why are you still awake. you aren't supposed to be on your phone

matthew knies

🤷. it's my hourly wake up. aryne was just in here to check on me

matthew knies

why's got you thinking so much that you can't sleep?

y/n tavares

you honestly

matthew knies

me…why?

y/n tavares

because we kissed

matthew knies

—

the next morning was quiet. everybody woke up around 9, even the kids which was nice. you all had breakfast together not long after waking, and then right around lunch, john and aryne took this kids to aryne's mom's, leaving yourself and matthew alone.

you walk down the staircase after returning from your room, pulling the hoodie you had retrieved over your shoulders. matthew was sitting at the kitchen island, twidling with his thumbs. he wasn't allowed screen time for 72 hours because of his concussion, resulting in a very uneventful morning.

you smile softly at him as he meets your gaze, a sudden nervousness washing over you. I mean, you two like totally made out the day prior, and you hadn't stopped thinking of his lips since.

matthew was the same way. not a second had gone by without thinking of you and the kiss, hell, it was all he could really do without his phone - even after the texts he shouldn't of responded to anyways - he would do anything for you.

"hey," you start and he smirks lazily at you.

"hey," matthew repeats. the two of you hadn't had a moment alone since the kiss and suddenly everything felt really real.

you tug at the sleeves of your hoodie, sitting down at the empty barstool beside him. "how are you feeling?"

"better now that you're here." he says easily, leaning in closer to you. you blush under his intense gaze, biting your lip as you watch his eyes flicker down to your mouth and up again. "how are you feeling?"

you frown slightly, "I'm fine?" you laugh.

"I mean, like, since we kissed." you don't say anything at first so matthew continues, "I like you, like, a lot and everything I said last night...I meant. but I didn't even ask you how you were feeling or if you felt the same way. I just want to check on you."

oh, you think, that's actually really sweet. "matthew I haven't stopped thinking about you since the moment we met. I've had a crush on you like this whole time," you say shyly and matthews smirk grows, "I was so nervous when john told me you were staying here because I thought if you were around me too much you would get sick of me and then you wouldn't fall hopelessly in love with me," you laugh. "but i suppose I was wrong."

"you were definitely wrong," he agrees, tucking a piece fallen hair behind your ear. he moves down your body until he's interlocking fingers with the hand you had resting on the table and he squeezes it three times. "when I first met you, I didn't even know you were johns sister."

"no?"

matthew laughs, "no! and then auston asked if I had met johns sister. he said you were the hot one."

you laugh, "auston thinks im hot?"

"hey!" matthew laughs, "too late for that. anyways - I thought there was no way that the most beautiful girl i'd ever seen was the sister of my new captain. I thought there was no way that...this would happen."

he gestures between the two of you and you smile sweetly.

"guess i'm the luckiest guy in the world, huh."

"I think we both are pretty lucky," you slide off the stool, and matthew spreads his thighs as you move to stand between them, your hands wrapping around his neck as his rest on your lower back, dangerously close to the round of your ass.

matthew smirks.

"so," you state, "with that being said - I want you. like, all the time. even when you go back home, I don't want whatever this is to end."

"I don't want it to end," he agrees, "I want to like date the shit out of you."

you giggle and matthews heart flutters. you're so beautiful, he thinks.

"so you don't have like a girlfriend at home or anything?" you're joking but you do glance at him with a serious look and matthew's face drops.

"god no," he says, rubbing a hand over your ass. "and you don't secretly want auston right?" but he's truly joking and you roll your eyes playfully.

"nah, the guy I want is right here," matthew leans in and presses his lips to yours, squeezing you tightly and pulling your body closer to his. you sigh into it, fingers running through his hair.

"i'm going to miss you when you're gone," you say against his mouth.

"i'll miss you," he says quickly, "but in the mean time, i'll make sure to get as much as you as I can."

you lean in to kiss him again until your phone beeps with a text.

"it's john," you say, "he says there leaving now. they'll be home in 30."

matthew smirks, "mhmm what could we do for 30 minutes...?"

you giggle, running up the stairs towards your room, matthew following.

"mhmm, that feels so good." your words are a breathless sigh against the darkness of matthews bedroom.

his bright eyes flicker up to meet yours, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs as he spread your legs, giving himself free range to keep pleasing you.

once matthews concussion was cleared, he headed back home for a month to visit and catch up with his family and friends. that meant leaving you and your new relationship behind. he texted you constantly, so anytime john was near, you made sure the phone wasn't accessible to him.

both you and matthew were absolutely smitten for one another.

it was his first night back from his trip back home, and seeing him again for the first time made you horny - like, immediately. but of course, you controlled yourself around your family to keep the secret a secret. and you had controlled yourself for 10 long, excruciating hours. john and aryne had gone to bed around 9 and as soon as 10 was about to hit, you snuck down to matthews room.

so here you were, with matthews mouth working wonders on your pussy - the squelching of your wetness and breathy moans were the only noteble noises in the room. "fuck, matthew, keep doing that."

he groaned against you, and it had pushed you over the edge, cumming hard all over his face and his fingers he had buried inside you.

shirtless, he crawled up over your naked body, kissing your neck up to your face until you could taste yourself on him. "fuck," he said.

you pushed him onto his back, and he smirked, watching as you climbed on top of him. you pulled his cock out of his underwear, letting it slap hard against his toned stomach. using your slick, you coated his dick before using your hand to line him against your entrance.

you sunk down, moaning loud enough so that matthew had to cover your mouth with his big hand - which obviously turned you on more.

you started rolling and bouncing on his dick fast, gripping your tits as his free hand thumbed at your clit. "fuck, i'm gunna cum soon." he told you.

you moaned, "me too."

he smirked up at you all hot and sexy, "you gotta be quiet."

you smiled breathlessly, continuing to jump on him, taking all of him inside you. between your two bodies was soaked in your juices, making the noises in the room even more intense.

matthew grabbed your hips, flipping you onto your back without leaving your warmth, where's he started to fuck you at unfathomable levels, having your mouth hang open in a silent scream.

you were almost there, the coil in your stomach was about to snap until the light in the hallway flicked on. matthew stopped his movements, his one hand covering your mouth incase any noises slipped out.

his door was locked, of course, but what if. you start to pray it's somebody just using the bathroom but matthew starts to move inside you again, giving you a smirk. fuck, you think, this is so hot.

your eyes roll back and you grip his shoulder as you cum, tightening around his length as he plummets into you. out of the corner of your eye, you can see the light flicker off just as matthew shoots his load into you, effectively bringing your attention back to him. "ugh god." he says into your neck.

how the hell were you supposed to face anybody in the house tomorrow: how the hell were you going to walk after that.

you and matthew had a habit of discreetly slipping out to get the mail. you actually did always end up getting the mail - but it was never about that. you two just wanted to spend time with one another, away from prying eyes and questioning.

matthew's body was big and warm pressed up against yours. the heat of the setting sun was relaxing, setting the tone for when matthew could finally slip his hand into yours.

you sighed, head dropping to his shoulder as you approached the community mail box, about half a block away from the house.

"you okay?" he says softly and your heart just about wants to melt.

"yeah," you lean your head back to look at him, "I just needed this." you squeeze his hand to prove a point. "I missed you when you were gone."

"I missed you too," he stopped walked and wrapped you in a hug. "like, wayyyyy too much - I think I jerked off like 5 times-"

"ew!" you screeched out a laugh. "you're gross."

the ways he's smirking all hot and his tan skin and he's bulked back up already from the weight drop at the end of the season and it's just...so good. it gets even better when he kisses you, right in the middle of the sidewalk. and you think you want to marry him.

—

"anything exciting happen over the weekend?" maddie asked you, her soft lips tugged up in a knowing smirk. unlike the rest of the world, she knew about you and matthew and the blossoming relationship.

"nope," you say, setting up the daily question sign, along with your ring light and tripod: ready to capture the team.

"right..." she says, "so no...I don't know - 6 foot 3, hot, muscular, brunette hockey players pay your vagina any visits?"

"maddie!" you scold, "you're being too loud." you look around to make sure nobody was in earshot.

"what!" she laughs in defence. "it's like i'm watching a romance novel, I need to ask the right questions."

you start recording as the players exit the dressing room and make their way to the rink, passing you both, slowing down to read an answer the question provided.

"what's your favourite movie?"

you were getting a nice range of answers, which was good. from oppenheimer to when harry met sally - the boys did not disappoint.

you felt a nudge to your ribs from maddie, which made you raise your brows and look up from the work on the laptop. she gestured towards the players tunnel so you followed her eyesight, only to land on matthew walking out.

immediately, you felt hot, smiling as you made eye contact with him.

he smiled back, coming to a stop to read the sign. he walked closer until he was standing as close as he could to you with still being in camera view. "what's your favourite movie?" he asked you.

you suddenly became shy, tucking some curled hair behind you ear. "oh, I - I don't know."

"yeah, you do." he said immediately, that cheeky smile once again on his lips.

you looked up towards him gobsmacked, you you just knew maddie was watching you two with an open mouth and heart eyes. it's the way he was looking at you: so adoringly.

"probably how to loose a guy in 10 days." you say.

"okay mine too." he tells you and then directs his eyes to the camera. "how to loose a guy in 10 days."

and there's no way you can keep that interaction in the video and post it because the way he talks to you is so...hot.

"okay," you repeat back to him.

"okay," he says back, gloved fingers gently squeezing yours behind the bristol board before leaving you to stand alone, giddy as you watch him skate.

—

"careful, you're gunna get soap in my eyes," you scold matthew as his hands scrub your scalp with shampoo.

"close them then," he tells you and you gasp out a laugh, slapping his strong wet chest with your hand. he smirks, his fingers working wonders over your head, you eyes having no choice but to close in pleasure.

the two of you were taking advantage of the empty house, john away at an event for his foundation, aryne and the kids out visiting her parents and grocery shopping. as soon as the door clicked leaving the two of you alone, matthew practically raced you to the shower, stripping and stepping into the spew of water.

"alright, rinse." he tells you, directing you around to let the warm water wash away the suds.

"your turn," you say. you're stretching trying to reach the top of his head and he laughs down at you.

"having difficulty?"

you give him a look and it makes his smile wider. "help me," you eventually whine out. he obeys, his large hands wrapping around the back of your thighs, pulling you up to wrap around his hips.

as you begin to happily wash his hair, you feel his soft lips trail down your neck, down the valley of your breasts, and moving to take your nipple into his mouth.

"matty," your head falls back.

he stops, unwrapping your legs from his waist, placing you gently back on the floor. "I love when you call me that." your hearts swells at the look on his face, continuing to beat hard as he grabs your face and kisses you.

kissing matthew was always amazing. his lips were so plump and soft, making for the perfect make out everytime. what feels likes hours pass, his lips not once leaving yours. you swear if you looked down, your fingers would be pruned.

a soft knock on the bathroom door breaks you two apart and you gasp, slapping a hand over matthews mouth. he raises his eyebrows at you, unimpressed by your slap, but you ignore him.

"hello?"

"hey," aryne says on the other side of the door, "we're back."

"okay," you say, trying to ignore the way matthews big hands we're feeling you up.

"where's matthew?" his hands stop kneading your ass and he gives you a bewildered look.

"oh, umm, I think he's in his room." you say quickly.

"okay," she says, "I'm going to go see what he's feeling for dinner."

"no!" you say too loud and way too quickly. it has aryne frowning, hesitating by the bathroom door.

"no?"

you meet matthews eyes. "yeah, no. I think he's sleeping."

"okay," aryne doesn't sound convinced and that had you worried. "alright, well, i'm sure he won't mind whatever I decide."

"tell her i'm down for tacos." matthew whispers and you shush him.

"I think he mentioned something about tacos earlier, If that helps." you tell her matthews wishes anyways which earns you a cheesy grin from the man.

"okay," aryne says, "alright, anyways, I'll see you when you're done."

"yup," you say, listening to her footsteps as she walks away from the bathroom. immediately you groan, head falling to your boyfriends chest.

later after everybody has eaten dinner, the kids have been put to bed and matthew and john went downstairs to watch their highlights and game plays, you and aryne sat on the living room couch, cuddled up in pyjamas and glasses of wine: aryne sipping her red and you trying not to chug your white.

"so," her demeanour shifts from fun conversations and discussing what funny things the kids did at their grandparents to a more serious, inquisitive tone and immediately you feel worried. "how long have you and matthew been seeing each other?"

you spit your mouthful of wine back into your glass, sitting up in the couch a little straighter. "what," you splutter out, "I am not seeing matthew- I-Why would you even think that."

her face doesn't change, still the knowing smirk on her lips. "y/n, I'm not stupid."

"aryne - matthew and I - I don't even like him that much honestly," you try to be nonchalant, sipping your spat out wine with red cheeks.

"oh," she sits up, "so in the span of what, 7 months, you've gone from being totally smitten and in love to not even liking him?"

damn, she got you there. "yup." you lie, crossing your legs.

"please," she says. "also, you two weren't slick today."

you give her a look.

"I mean, at first I didn't think anybody was in the shower with you - but then when matthew had come downstairs form his 'nap' with damp hair - and smelling like your shampoo, I knew."

you didn't know why you wanted to cry. but you did, and when aryne looked at you again she frowned. "don't cry," she says, wrapping you in her sisterly hug. "why are you upset?"

"because," you sniffle, "you're right. we've been seeing each other since before the summer."

aryne laughs, "I knew it."

"how?" you say into her shoulder.

"y/n, he looks at you like you created the universe - like you could do no wrong. and you look at him the exact same. I just knew."

her words give you goosebumps - did he really look at you like that?

"you can't tell john."

she pulls back from your cuddle with raised brows, "you know me, y/n/n , cmon."

the two of you cuddled on the couch in silence after that, the proposal playing quietly on the tv.

"for what it's worth," aryne says after a moment, "I think matthews amazing, and you two are most definitely perfect. It makes sense. and I would never tell him, but your brother wouldn't be mad at you - he loves matthew, and he loves you."

"I know," you hum.

and that was it. the movie was watched until you both fell asleep under the thick knitted blanket you shared, cozied up on the couch, glasses on wine now empty and sitting on the coffee table.

john and matthew came upstairs, talking amongst themselves until they stumbled into the living room, going quiet at the sight of you two cuddled on the couch in a deep sleep.

"oh gosh," john chuckles quietly, moving towards his wife. "do you mind getting y/n to bed?" he asks matthew as he gently shakes his wife awake.

"sure," matthew says.

john wakes aryne, and she groans, letting her husband drag her to bed, nothing more than a quiet goodnight passing her lips.

as they left, matthew moves towards you with a full heart. your lips puffed out as your breathed, on the verge of a soft snore. he crouched down, a hand running over your hair to wake you gently.

your eyes flutter in confusion at first, but then they spot your boyfriend and you smile. "hi."

"hi." he says with the smirk you love so damn much.

"I fell asleep," you state, letting matthew sit you up.

"I can see that," he says, pulling you to your feet.

you naw on your lip as you two begin walking to your room. "aryne knows." you tell matthew.

"knows what?" confused, he questions you.

"about us." you clarify. something flashes on matthews face that you can't decipher. you think he may be mad, but then he breaks out into a grin. "why are you grinning like that?" you can't help but smile as well.

"that means you can sleep in my room tonight," he says, dropping you to his bedroom. "john and I will be leaving for practice, and aryne won't be confused why you aren't in your own bed - because she knows."

"you're right," you whisper, admiring how excited he was. "let's go to sleep then. take me to bed."

—

october 17th

it was late when john and matthew got home from their game, party decor from matthew's 21st birthday still hanging in the kitchen, cake still on the counter.

john had nodded a goodnight at the rookie, wishing him one more happy birthday before heading up to bed to join his wife in a deep slumber.

all the lights were off, saved for the one under the microwave...and apparently the backyard light, matthew notices, the warm glow illuminating the kitchen through the glass patio doors.

making his way over, he opened the door, peeking around the corner.

you were sitting on the patio couch, bundled up in your favourite oversized hoodie, and a pair of what matthew can tell are his sweatpants.

"hey," matthew whispers and you jump slightly, hand held to your chest.

"you scared me," you laugh. he shuts the patio door softly behind him, making his way over until he was sitting next to you. "i've been waiting for you."

"here I am," he smiles, bringing you into his chest. suddenly you are grabbing a throw blanket, tossing it over the two of you to protect you from the nippy october air.

"I had all these candles lit and was gunna order your favourite food and wear that set you like under my clothes and wear one of those coats, that you know, cover it, but then," matthew loved when you rambled, "the frickin wind kept blowing the candles out, and the thai placed was closed and well I got cold so I had to change out of the coat,"

you are wearing a slight pout and matthew just chuckles sympathetically, kissing the side of your head. "that's okay."

"I wanted it to be perfect for your birthday." you concluded.

"having you next to me is perfect enough," matthew admits and you look up at him softly.

he presses a quick kiss to your lips, leaving you hot and bothered when he pulls away. he really knows how to kiss. "I have one more gift for you," you smirk and matthew raises his brows.

"I don't need anymore gifts - oh," matthew watches as you sink to your knees infront of him, unbuckling his belt. he lifts his hips to help you pull his pants down his thighs, revealing his already semi hard dick in his boxers.

matthew shivers as you reach in with your cold hand and pull his dick out, it hardening completely at your touch. he groans when your tongue licks the underside of his dick, all the way up until you reach the head. you kiss the tip softly, licking the pre - cum from his slit. "fuck baby," matthew says.

you look up at him through your lashes, a smirk on your lips and matthew thinks he could cum right then and there.

you take him into your mouth, bobbing your head as you suck him off. your hands cover the portion of his dick your mouth can't reach, the combination leaving a hot wet mess on his dick. matthew is groaning, calling out your name until he's reaching climax.

"i'm gunna cum," he says and not a moment later, he's shooting his load in your mouth. you swallow all of him, sliding off his dick with a pop.

you giggle at his relaxed face, very much pleasured out. "happy birthday," you whisper, climbing on his lap so you are straddling him.

he grabs your hips and kisses you.

"did you like your gifts?"

"I did," he chuckles, "although the hoodie you got me may have some competition with the gift I just received," you blush and throw your head back with laughter.

he brushes his lips against your exposed throat and instinctively your hips roll against his crotch looking for friction. matthew moans again.

"i'm not fucking you out here, it's cold." you decide and matthew groans with disappointment. you laugh, hitting his shoulder. "i'll fuck you inside though."

"i'm sold," he says, picking you up off his lap and setting you on the ground. you grab his hand and he says, "earlier you said you had to change out of your coat..does that mean you're still wearing lingerie underneath these sweats?"

you give him a sultry look, "guess you'll have to find out."

"you're killing me," he says, letting you drag him back inside.

matthew is a very happy birthday boy when not 5 minutes later he sees you are still clad in midnight blue lacy garments. happy 21st birthday to him.

—

you had been intently trying to finish up some work on your laptop from the comfort of your own bed before the work day ahead - key word: trying.

not only were you tired (it was almost 1 a.m.) but you were grumpy because maddie was sick, so a bunch of extra work was dumped on you and your boyfriend wouldn't stop annoying you.

matthew wasn't even doing anything that outrages, just playing with your hair and kissing your neck and he kept trying to show you funny videos on tiktok that aren't even that funny.

he tickled your side and you pushed his hand away. "you're annoying me," you say.

he doesn't buy it, so he did it again. "pay attention to me," matthew all but whines and you have to refrain from snapping at him.

he wasn't even doing anything that annoying. in fact, if it was a regular day, you would welcome everything matthew was doing with open arms, happy that your boyfriend wanted your attention. but it wasn't a normal day, the stress of the work load slowly building.

"babe, you know I want to get this done and you keep distracting me! it's annoying." your tone was sharp, a warning.

"i'm not even doing anything that bad," matthew argues like a naughty toddler, sitting up so he can look right into your eyes.

the bar of your patience has overfilled, except you don't get angry - just overwhelmed: throat tightening.

when matthew sees your eyes start to get watery, he frowns, "hey, i'm sorry." he knows you've been stressed, with like...everything and that wasn't even including the stress of having a secret relationship, which was something he was apart in. "I didn't mean to annoy you."

you sigh, sniffling. "you're not even being annoying - it's just everything is stressing me out and overwhelming me."

matthew uses his thumb to wipes your tears. "I think you should take a break for the night. we can finish tomorrow, right?"

"yeah," you huff, wiping your eyes. "I didn't mean to snap at you. are you mad at me?"

"i'm not mad at you." he laughs because your question was, well,...ridiculous. he grabbed you, pulling you down to cuddle into him. a few minutes pass of him playing with your hair in a way that didn't annoy you, pressing kisses to your hairline that has a way of fluttering your eyes, sleep on your doorstep.

your almost sleeping when matthew speaks up.

"hey," he whispers. you look up at him with gentle eyes and he pauses briefly. "you're my best friend, you know that?"

you smile. "am I?"

"yeah," he says in a sassy tone that he does that drives you up the wall but you don't even care in that moment - because you have the sweetest guy ever. "besties." he mimics a typical girly voice that you can't help but roll your eyes playfully, "besties," you agree.

he smirks all hot and you feel it all the way down to your toes. when matthew lays you down on your back and slips his big strong hand underneath your waistband - you don't protest, suddenly wide awake.

seeing the other wives and girlfriends wearing WAG jackets while you didn't and couldn't was never a nice feeling. there's nothing you wanted more than to wear Matthews name on your back - but instead, you stood with the teams phone to capture moments for the account: very much jacketless.

you were taking a video of TJ Brodie's kids watch their dad excitedly, giggling happy as their dad passed you a puck through the camera hole for you to gift to them.

you beam down at the blonde kiddies as his wife tells their kids to wave to their dad when suddenly you see a maple leaf player slam their body into the glass beside you. looking up, you make eye contact with matthew.

he smirks, and you try not to seem to excited in the arena full of fans, your friends and your brother. you roll your eyes at him, waving the phone as to tell him you're working but he just rolls his eyes playfully back at you. he does a couple warm ups in-front of you, which you record, because hey, it's good content.

he uses his stick to pick up a puck, gesturing you to open the camera hole. which, you do, of course. he puts his hand through, holding out the puck for you to take.

"why are you giving me this?" you ask him.

he shrugs, "just giving back to my fans."

you laugh sarcastically, taking the puck and shoving it in your jacket pocket. "how kind."

he winks before skating away.

unbeknownst to the two of you, john watched the interaction from the blue line as he was stretching, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. since when have the two of you...sure, you'd always been nice and civil to one another, friends even, john would say. but there was something on matthews face as he skated away from you that had johns heart strings being pulled.

inbetween periods, matthew had pulled out his phone, which he thought he did sneakily, and smiled at his screen, typing out a message. john couldn't help but think he was texting you - but, no, because he had to be imagining it. there's no way that the two of you have been building and involved in a romance - in his own house, at his work, that he didn't know about.

but then, at the end of the game, in the players tunnel we're you'd usually wait for them, john couldn't help but notice your face light up when you saw his teammate, and the way you squeezed his arm, congratulating matthew on a good game: john was pretty much convinced.

later that evening, him and aryne stood in their on suite, brushing their teeth as they two of them got ready for bed. john spit out his last bit of toothpaste and turned toward his wife.

"have you noticed that matthew and y/n have been...I don't know...extra friendly?"

aryne spit out her own toothpaste and giggled.

"what's so funny?" john asks her. "am I just going crazy? is that why you're laughing?"

"no, no," aryne reassures him, "you've just now noticed that matthew and y/n have been flirting?"

and john is taken aback for a moment and suddenly, anything you and matthew have ever done together, and they way you both speak to one another, always ending up sitting next to one another, hell, even the way you looked at each other...oh. "I guess I have noticed." he says momentarily.

"good for you." aryne rubs some expensive moisturizer on her face.

"are they like...In love?" he asks with a funny look on his face.

"I'm not sure," aryne thinks, "but they are definitely having se-"

"okay! I don't need to know." john says. the two of them make their way into their bed. that makes him think back to about a month ago, when he saw you cooking the in kitchen.

"hey," john says, eyes trained on his cellphone as he walks into the kitchen, back from morning skate.

"hi," you and aryne had said in sync. his wife hovered over the stove, cooking eggs and bacon while you stood at the island, chopping fruit.

he looked up then once he heard his daughters giggle, he smiles as he watches you pass her some fruit, the baby as happy as ever getting attention from her aunt.

but then - "is that matthews shirt?"

you looked up with wide eyes because yes, it was. "oh," you look down at yourself, "yeah, I didn't even realize."

suddenly aryne piped up, "I think i mixed up the laundry. I thought it was a sleep shirt."

if john saw the exchange the two woman gave each other, he didn't say it.

you definitely knew that was his shirt, john is sure if it now. with his arms behind his head, he breathes deep. "why haven't they said anything?"

"what do you mean?"

"like...if their dating, or in love - not just hooking up. why have they kept it a secret?"

"I don't know honey," aryne rubs a hand over his chest and he closes his eyes. "they were probably scared. I mean Matthew probably didn't want you thinking that you've gone out of your way for him, letting him stay here and he repays you by banging your sister -"

"aryne!" john says and she giggled.

"and y/n - she doesn't want to upset you."

"she could never upset me." john says immediately. "If they are dating...well, Matthews a good kid. he's the best possible guy for her - I don't want her to feel like she has to hide it from me."

"you should tell her," aryne flicks off her bedside lamp, letting the room become overcome with darkness. "they're cute - we should let them do their thing."

"yeah, i'll talk to them tomorrow."

the next morning, you and matthew had been cozied up on the couch. any opportunity that the two of you had in the early morning to be cuddly while everybody else was sleeping, you and matthew took.

matthew had been whispering something into your neck, making you squirm and giggle when footsteps were heard bounding down the stairs, making you and matthew scrambled apart just as john rounded the corner.

he had a look on his face you couldn't quite figure out - he almost looked...in pain but also uncomfortable but at the same time happy.

"hey," you start in hesitation, "what's going on."

he shifts awkwardly before moving to sit on the love seat. "you guys can like...continue whatever you were doing. like cuddling or whatever."

you are sure matthews eyes are as wide as yours. "what?" you ask, your tone of voice perfectly depicts your level of shock.

"I know you guys are...doing stuff." he gestures weirdly in between your bodies.

"oh my god." you cover your face. this is like having the birds and the bees talk with your parents - expect it's with your brother and your boyfriend is also there to hear it. "doing stuff? what?" you repeat.

"listen, I'm not mad."

you look up towards john with raised brows. "you're not?" matthew says before you can.

"no, god- " john leaves forward so his elbows rest on his knees, "matthew you are the nicest guy ever. you are great with my kids, and you'd be a great...are you guys like dating or is is strictly just -"

"dating." you say loud and quickly.

"you'd be a great boyfriend, especially to my sister." john continues.

"I didn't want you to think that, I don't know, you've gone out of your way to bring me into your home, and i've repaid you by sneaking around with your sister." matthew says sheepishly. aryne was really on the nose with that one.

"I don't think that." he says immediately and you can feel matthew sigh in relief beside you.

"and y/b, I could never be mad at you. you're an adult and i'm your brother, I don't control you, nobody does. I just wish you didn't feel the need to keep it a secret."

you wanted to cry because you really loved your family.

"I just didn't want you to treat matthew any differently."

matthew looks at you with a look of confusion. he didn't know that, he just thought you didn't want john to know - not that you were trying to protect him. "really?" he asks you.

"yeah." you whisper.

"I wouldn't of," john says. "i'll still treat you the same." john watches your face relax at his words and it fills him with a nice feeling.

"alright," john says, hitting his knees and standing up like a typical dad, "so you two can get back to cuddling or...whatever, just don't french infront of me."

matthew laughs loud beside you and your mouth drops in shock. "french? who says french. you...old man."

john laughs as he walks away, leaving you and matthew alone once more. almost immediately, matthew wraps you in a hug, pulling you down on the couch.

"this is good, right?" he asks you gently, hand gently tracing your face. his eyes are so soft that you can't help but smile.

"yeah," you say back, letting matthew kiss you gently on the lips.

the sound of four tiny feet come bounding down the stairs, making you pull apart before the kids jump onto the two of you, laughing, begging matthew to turn on Bluey before breakfast. you watch in admiration as he interacts with them, and everything feels good.

—

christmas was approaching- way too fast for you liking. this time of year was only hectic in the Tavares home - that wasn't even including the load of extra work you needed to complete for upload during the small holiday break provided by the NHL.

matthew had the 22nd off (as the team had played their last game the day before) and suggested the two of you head out to do some last minute shopping - which was a relief because in all your work stress, you've barley had time to shop for anybody besides your boyfriend - so immediately you took matthew up on the offer.

the two of you had gotten into matthews car and headed downtown to begin the much anticipated long shopping day - hoping to check off your never ending list of presents.

a few hours after your arrival, matthew had grabbed the back of your neck, directing you in the direction of a hot chocolate stand, because 'you can't christmas shop and not get a warm drink' as he claims.

matthew had pretty much gotten everything he wanted to get for the family (his and yours) as did you, which calmed you down so much compared to your hectic stressed filled past couple days.

matthew had your hand wrapped in his large one, swinging them between your bodies as you made your last walk down the strip. you both sipped your hot chocolate carefully after matthew burned his lip on his, pouting until you kissed it better (you love your big baby).

you came up upon one of your favourite market stores. they always carried to most beautiful, antique looking items and most of the time you ended up loving something in the cute shop - and this time was no exception.

you had gasped slightly, your hand squeezing matthews as a reflex. "oh my god, how amazing." you were face to face with the most beautiful winter snow globe, filled with tiny fake snowflakes and a cute little village - it was right up your alley. "oh I love it."

you could feel matthews front press against your back, hovering over your shoulder to look at the antique. "it's nice." he agrees. matthew tugged your hand, "hey, I think I see Santa if you want to go sit on his lap and ask for it for christmas."

your head snapped back at him so fast your slicked back ponytail almost wiped him in the face. "ha ha, you're so funny."

he smirked in satisfaction at his own joke and tugged you into his side, kissing your temple - ignoring the way you swatted him away, claiming he was going to mess up your makeup.

christmas morning

a bunch of tiny knocks on your and matthews bedroom door makes you groan out, eyes squinting to adjust to the dark bedroom.

a moment later the door opens, revealing the kids in their christmas pyjamas: eyes full of excitement.

"wake up aunt y/n!" jace says, jumping up onto your bed. you sit up, nudging matthew as you rest against the headboard.

"matthew," axton's little voice whispers. "it's christmas."

"hey buddy," he whispers, picking up the blond boy and sitting him on the bed between the two of you.

"santa came!" Jace said excitedly.

"did he?!" you asked, "are you going to show us?"

"yeah!" the boys cheered, they had dragged matthew out of bed and downstairs quicker than you could put your robe on. aryne was waiting by the bedroom door with a cup of coffee, made the way you love it.

"good morning." she hums.

"hi," you say, taking the mug and wrapping your hands around it as the two of you descend down the stairs and into the warmly decorated family room.

"aunt y/n look at all the presents!" the boys say, practically vibrating as they resisted the urge to tear up all the wrapping paper in that very moment.

"wow!," you say with as much enthusiasm the early morning would let you, taking a seat beside matthew who immediately wraps his arm around you, bringing your body into his own. it wasn't long before you dragged a throw blanket over the two of you, cuddling into him tightly.

"alright boys, everyone's here you can start." john says, holding onto his daughter. the kids laughed loudly as they started, and you swear you've never felt excitement or happiness the way you did when wtaching your nephews open gifts.

the four of you helped all the kids open their gifts when needed, which was often because they wanted to play with every new toy they opened (which was so darn cute).

an hour or so of present opening had passed, leaving the kids to entertain themselves with their new toys from santa, while the four of you got to exchange gifts with one another.

you tore open your gift from aryne, opening the white box to reveal a demin jacket with a bunch of leaf decals on it. you knew what it was immediately. "you didn't." you pull out the jacket to look at it fully, the back displaying exactly what you thought it would: Knies 23.

"oh my god," you laughed, "did you know?" your question was directed towards your boyfriend, who held his hands up in surrender.

"my lips are sealed." he laughed as you hit his chest playfully, letting him kiss your cheek two times quick.

you couldn't help but feel giddy inside, and you bet your bottom dollar anytime you weren't working, you'd be repping your man on your jacket for the whole world to see. "I love it, thank you honey bunny," you give your sister in law a squeeze and she hugs back just as hard.

"alright, mine next," matthew says, handing you a neatly wrapped square box. you raise your brows in suspicion and start to unwrap it. "you didn't wrap this."

you knew him too well, matthew thinks. "just open it - don't jostle it around," he scolds before laughing.

"you're insufferable," you say. you are left with a plain white box, leaving you no option but to gently open the lid and - oh my god. "matthew..." you whisper, gently taking your gift out of its protective styrofoam. "you didn't."

"what is it?" john asks, trying to peek over your shoulder as he bounced baby girl.

"oh, it's beautiful," aryne says as soon as she gets a proper look at the gift, her hand held to her chest.

matthew bought you the snow globe. "the person at the cash wrapped it for me - she insisted. she's a sweet lady," matthew says.

you knew he didn't wrap it. "yeah, beth is a sweetheart."

"of course you know her name," matthew laughs. the four of you laugh at his comment before aryne jumps up, helping one of the boys build a toy, john walking off to grab a bottle for the baby.

you're still staring at the snow globe when matthew looks down at you. he smiles involuntarily, admiring the way you looked so content and happy. "merry christmas," he whispers.

you look him in the eyes and it's just like the first time you saw him. you have the biggest crush on your boyfriend. "merry christmas."

you are so in love.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

link to playlist

#🤍⊹˚₊ cute and hughesy fic #matthew knies imagine #matthew knies smut #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey smut #nhl hockey #toronto maple leafs smut #toronto maple leafs imagine #matthew knies fanfic #matthew knies x reader #nhl blurb #hockey blurb #hockey fic #toronto maple leafs blurb

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aurorawritestoescape · 9 months ago

Text

TABLE FOR THREE

Joel Miller x f!reader x Dave York || 3,2k

Summary: you’re having a great time on your date but a man from your past interrupts it and makes it…better?

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, mfm, not specified age gap, dom/sub dynamic, infidelity (reader’s, in the past), manhandling, daddy kink, praise kink, size kink, degradation, slut shaming, m!oral, cum eating, mutual masturbation, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampie, light spanking, voyeurism, exhibitionism (they don’t get caught),mention of violence, pet names (baby, kitten, babygirl, sweetheart). Pics are for the mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: this is filthy, y’all. Big thank you to an insanely talented writer @bonezone44 for inspiring me with this post. Smooching and hugging @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and screaming about this story with me. Love you all, hope you’ll enjoy it!💖 dividers by @saradika-graphics

PT 2 WHO’S YOUR DADDY? || MASTERLIST

Your boyfriend Dave and you are having dinner in your favorite restaurant. Your regular booth is tucked in a corner, hidden from the prying eye of the other guests. You two love coming here because you can enjoy each other without being seen, thanks to the tall backrests. Now you’re laughing, kissing and Dave’s hand is resting on your upper thigh, barely covered by your short skirt. His thumb is caressing your soft skin and your mind brings you back to the night before when he was railing you while you were sucking on the thick finger and moaning like a whore.

Suddenly a man plops on the seat in front of you with a smug smile.

Joel fucking Miller.

‘Shit, shit, shit,’ you repeat in your head as your heart freezes.

“Hello, sweetheart. Knew it was you. Saw you in the window passing by.”

He motions somewhere to the right of you and you inwardly curse his sharp eye.

“Want to introduce us, baby?” Dave asks with a cold tone in his voice and throws his arm around you in a possessive gesture.

You clear your throat and say as calmly as possible while panic twists your stomach.

“It’s Joel Miller, my— ehm, old friend.”

Joel chuckles, “Well, if old friends fuck like rabbits and live together for 3 years then I guess I’m that.”

He keeps laughing as you’re boring your eyes into him.

“Joel is my ex,” you admit, highlighting the last word with an expression of disgust on your face.

“Ex?” Dave repeats, narrowing his eyes and taking in the man sitting in front of him — older than him, much older than you, a broad torso under a worn out denim shirt, a big fist resting on the table and by the look of it, the man works with his hands. Joel seems to be calm and confident, but judging by the way you tensed, the break up wasn’t pleasant.

“Would never imagine you with a guy like that, sweetheart,” Joel says with a smug smile.

“And what guy am I?” Dave’s voice is coated with steel.

“Not like me, pal. I’m a simple working man, and this one always went for sweaty dirty men like me. You’re all suited up,” his piercing eyes slide to you and he asks, “Shootin’ out of your league, sweetie?”

“Fuck you,” you bite back and Joel smirks. You wanna slap his face so much but Dave takes your chin between his fingers, turns your head to him and looks into your eyes. His gaze under the furrowed brows scares and excites you.

“I’ll handle it.”

“Ok, Dave,” you mewl with a little nod and return your eyes to your troublesome ex.

“It’s her business who she dates. And mine. I guess your relationship ended badly, and I’m sorry, but shit happens, man. Move on.”

It’s so hot how calm he is and you feel your core burn with desire.

Dave pulls you closer to him with his arm still resting on your shoulder and rubs your collar bone with his thumb. Joel’s eyes follow his movements and he rasps,

“Don’t be sorry for me, pal. I’m fine now but ya gonna get burned if you don’t drop this slut.”

“You motherfucking piece—,” you sit up ready to start a fight but Dave’s hand, that a second ago was caressing your skin, flies to your throat and he pushes you back to the seat, not squeezing your neck but holding you seated by his side.

He shushes you and you can’t help but gush.

It’s a usual thing for him to be rough with you in bed, you love the way he manhandles you, breaks you every time you fuck, little by little, making you his. But he has never shown this side of him out of the bedroom. The idea that he’s so dominant with you around people sends electricity of arousal through your body.

With widened eyes you see Joel’s lips twist in a satisfied smile and anger burns your insides with a scolding ire. Only your boyfriend’s steady voice slightly calms you down.

“Joel, you seem like a reasonable man. What would you do if some asshole interrupted your date and started calling your girlfriend a slut. What I would probably do is break his jaw and then his legs.”

Not losing his smug smile, even after hearing your boyfriend’s threat, Joel raises his hands in front of his chest and explains,

“I don’t want any problems with you— it’s Dave, right? I’m doin’ you a favor. Givin’ you advice. Keep away from this minx. She’s good to look at and great to fuck but she’ll use you and then sleep with half of your crew.”

You curse and Dave puts his palm over your mouth. It’s big and warm and you feel your panties soak more.

“Crew?”

“I work in construction. I found out this bitch had slept with half of my team. Married guys, single. She was a hungry slut and I don’t think anything changed.”

He laughs and you try to take Dave’s hand off your mouth but he grabs your wrists with his strong fingers and keeps your hands on your lap.

“Sit still and let me listen, kitten. Or daddy will be angry.”

You swallow loudly, as your nostrils flare and pussy aches. Only your eyes can move now, darting between the two men.

“I like you, Dave, you have her under your thumb. I was too soft and kind with her. And women like her don’t appreciate kindness.”

Joel’s eyes shift between you and Dave as he continues, “Don't tell me you haven’t noticed. ‘s her nature. Her needy cunt always craves a fat cock. And oh boy, she always knows how to find it.”

You growl under Dave’s palm and he tightens his grip in warning.

“Shh,” he whispers in your ear and then turns to Joel with his eyes narrowed.

“I believe you.”

You hum in protest, wriggling in Dave’s steel embrace, and he takes his hand off your mouth.

“Dave, don’t listen to him, he’s just jealous.”

Joel chuckles, shaking his head.

“You can’t deny the truth, sweetheart. I caught you with a guy’s dick in your mouth, my friend’s dick. And then I beat the truths about your affairs out of the others.”

You glance at Dave with scared eyes but he isn’t looking at you. His pensive gaze is set on Joel.

Then he turns his face to you and blood freezes in your veins.

“I did notice how you looked at the waiter just now, kitten. And that bartender. I know you gave him your number.”

You shake your head, opening your mouth to protest, but he interrupts you.

“Joel isn��t lying. I can tell.”

“He is! I didn’t …”

“Enough!”

You immediately shut your mouth, as soon as Dave slightly raises his voice. He trained you well after all.

“Fuck, good job, man. Look at her. So obedient but still a little feisty.”

Dave smirks and you see pride in his eyes when he hears your ex’s words.

“And she knows how to take cock, huh?” Joel looks at you, adjusting a bulge in his jeans.

You’re glaring at him but your mind bursts with images from your past, him pounding into you, his huge cock stretching you so deliciously and then pumping you full of his thick cum. His skilful fingers could make you explode in minutes and you’d never forget the way he ate your pussy. Dave is perfect in bed but Joel was unforgettable.

“Look at ‘er, she’s probably creamin’ right now, the way she’s starin’ at me.”

Dave smirks darkly and looks you over.

“Let’s find out.”

With that he shifts in his seat, slightly turning his big body to you, and his hand on your thigh slides up and under the hem of your skirt.

“Dave”, you breathe in sharply, widened eyes looking at him.

“Shh, baby, I’m just gonna check.”

His hand pulls your skirt up and he sees your black lacy panties. Joel grunts and leans forward placing his big hairy forearms on the table so he could see what Dave is doing.

Your boyfriend’s thick fingers slip under your panties and you blurt out,

“I’m wet because of you, Dave.”

“Is that so, kitten?” Dave asks but doesn’t look at you. His dark gaze is set on your clothed cunt as he pulls your panties to the side, exposing you to his and Joel’s eyes.

“Fuck, Dave, you’re the man,” Joel praises your boyfriend and you see hunger in the older man’s eyes. You’re so turned on right now, you know you’re dripping.

Dave tsks when he spreads your folds apart and your cunt blooms for them - your clit throbbing, skin glistening with your slick. The cold air hits your pussy and you softly moan.

“Dave, people could see,” you whine and try to close your legs but Dave’s hand stops you and you feel his lips at your temple when he says, loud enough for Joel to hear,

“Let’s ask your old friend to sit next to you and cover you from the passers-by. Will you feel more comfortable, baby?”

You glance up at Joel and though you hate his guts, you can’t deny that you want the fucker.

You nod and Joel’s lips stretch into a wide carnal grin.

He gets up and you salivate at the sight of the huge bulge in his jeans. You desperately want to see his cock, touch it, lick it, su—

Dave interrupts your thoughts, shifting to the side and pulling you with him to make room for Joel. The seat is meant for two people and when Joel plops next to you, turning to you a little, your body gets sandwiched between their huge frames. You feel so small, so helpless around the two men and your clit twitches as the arousal floods your core.

With your pussy still out in the open, you glance at Joel when he wraps his arm around your waist and fans your cheek and chest with his hot breath. The familiar scent of cigarettes, whiskey and Joel's musk hits your nose and you quietly whimper.

“Missed me, babygirl?” He’s leaning to you and you move away, pressing your body closer to Dave.

Your boyfriend reads you like a book. He knows that you’re acting skittish but it’s just a facade. You want it, you want them both.

“Baby, you did wrong by Joel. I think we need to apologize. How about we let him play with your pussy? Daddy won’t be mad, I promise.”

You look into Dave’s eyes and see that he’s not lying.

“Ok, daddy,” you purr and Joel barks a laugh.

“Told you she always wants it. Our little slut.”

You bite your lip hearing ‘our’ but Dave shakes his head.

“She’s mine, Joel, don’t forget that. But I see that she hurt you, and you have a right to punish her. Use her however you want.”

Joel throws him a nod. “That’s fair.”

With that his big calloused hand cups your pussy and slightly squeezes it. You look at Dave as he watches your ex’s hand touch you and his blown out eyes send another surge of wetness into Joel’s palm.

“I missed your sweet cunt, babygirl,” Joel whispers in your ear while his middle finger slips between your folds and he prods your soaking entrance.

“Fuck, she’s so wet, Dave. I remember how she used to soak me, her slick was fuckin’ everywhere. Wonder if she tastes the same.”

You see his finger leave your pussy as he brings it to his mouth and licks it clean.

Dave groans and you moan, watching Joel taste you.

Suddenly you feel a slap on your pulsating clit and you jerk, crying out a little too loudly. You cover your mouth with your palm, scared that the people will notice what the men are doing to you but Joel and Dave only chuckle.

“I fucked her last week in a changing room and she moaned like a little slut but now she’s all embarrassed.”

“I loved it about her. She looks so innocent but when you get her going… fuck, she jus’ loses her mind at the sight of a cock.”

You feel your cheeks burn but Dave doesn’t give you a chance to wallow in your delicious shame and inserts two thick fingers into your wet hole.

You moan his name and he kisses your cheek, before he begins sliding them in and out of you in steady rhythm, whispering obscenities in your ear,

“My little slut,” “bet people can see us”, “you don’t care, right?”, “I know you’d make us fuck you right in front of everyone”, “play with our cocks, baby, c’mon.”

When you hear his command, your hand immediately darts to his bulge and you hastily unbuckle his belt with one hand, open his dress pants and pull out his stiffening cock out of his boxers.

“Don’t forget about your friend, kitten,” Dave rasps, spreading his legs wider, and you unzip Joel’s jeans and take out his already hard manhood.

Their cocks are exposed now and standing at attention, both gorgeous, long and thick. Joel’s is a bit girthier, but you salivate looking at both of them. You can’t deny it, you have a great taste in men.

You spit on your hands and grab Dave’s member with your left hand and Joel’s with your right. They both grunt, when you start sliding your hand up and down their throbbing cocks and you revel in the sense of control they’re giving you. Their slits are leaking on your skin and you glide your palm over their fat tips, gathering their precum to make the cocks wetter.

You’re a mess yourself, the seat under you is getting slippery because of the juices seeping out of your pussy, thanks to your boyfriend’s fingers.

Joel is softly growling, watching your hand pump his cock and Dave working your cunt. “Fuck, I missed you so much, babygirl,” he admits and grabs the neckline of your top. He tugs it down exposing your naked breasts, your perked up mipples and Joel takes one between his index finger and a thumb and shakes his hand up and down. You whimper at the pain that swiftly morphs into pleasure while your tit is bouncing. Joel hunches down and takes it into his hot mouth, gently sucking on it. Your hand flies to run through his hair and your eyes flutter shut, as your climax approaches.

“Come for us, kitten. Soak my fingers,” Dave orders and Joel pushes you over the edge when his fingers find your pulsating clit and he swirls it with his pads while his mouth is still latched on your puffy nipple. Both Dave and Joel are playing with your cunt and soon you’re writhing between them, as waves of euphoria are lapping at your body. You try not to scream but it’s almost impossible, so you bite your lips till you taste blood, desperately trying to hide your ecstasy from the people in the restaurant.

When your orgasm subsides and you slump in your seat, breathing heavily, Joel’s mouth leaves your breast and their fingers part from your messy pussy.

You languidly stroke their cocks, feeling them thrum in your hands.

Dave turns your face to him and kisses you, licking into your mouth, claiming you as his in front of the other man. While your lips and tongues are caressing each other, you hear Joel almost moan from the pleasure your hand is giving him and you part from your boyfriend to whisper,

“He’s gonna come soon, daddy.”

“Want his cum, kitten?”

You nod and he smiles.

“Sit on my cock so I can fill you up. And give your mouth to Joel.”

“Yes, daddy.”

You fix your top and Dave helps you to sit on his stiff member. You both moan at the sensation but Joel curses at the absence of your hand on his ready-to-explode cock.

When you lean down, bringing your mouth to his length, the older man coos, “what a good little slut. Want my load, babygirl?” You look up at him and breathe out a sultry ‘yes’.

“C’mon, milk our cocks, kitten,” Dave commands with a light slap on your ass and you clench around him, making him grunt.

You take Joel’s manhood in your mouth and it’s like those years apart didn’t happen. The taste of his skin, the shape of his cock are so familiar you moan, thinking how much you missed it.

Dave slowly rolls his hips into you, holding your hips with his strong hands and his length slides in and out of your clenching wet hole. You feel the second climax build fast, so you move your hips up and down to make him fuck you harder.

“Man, you did wonders with her. She’s such an obedient little slut now,” Joel praises your boyfriend as their cocks are filling your body from both ends.

“It’s a work in progress, but she’ll be a good girl in no time.”

The way they talk about you like you’re not here, like you’re not pierced on their hard cocks is so delicious that after one hard thrust from Dave, you explode, unravelling on your boyfriend’s manhood as your moans are muffled by your ex’s fat length.

Your trembling body sends the men over the precipice, and Joel starts spurting his warm cum in your mouth and you drink it, hungrily slurping till the last drop. As soon as you’re done swallowing your ex’s load, Dave pulls you up by your shoulder and presses you tight to his body, wrapping his arm around your waist, the other hand splayed on your chest. You feel warmth in your core as his manhood is pulsing inside your pussy and filling you up with his big load. Joel tucks his softening cock back in his jeans, watching your boyfriend’s balls draw up and pump you full while your hole is stretched around his girth.

When Dave stops coming, he carefully lifts you up and quickly pulls back your panties. You sit back down between the men as Dave softly kisses your lips in gratitude and then orders you,

“Don’t spill a drop, baby. Want you to soak your little panties through.”

“Can I see?” Joel asks the younger man, not you, and Dave gives him a short nod.

Joel brings his hand to your pussy and pulls on the band of your underwear. He peeks inside, seeing the creamy cum coat the gusset and your puffy folds.

“You're so fuckin’ hot, babygirl. Did so good for us.” Joel mumbles in your ear and you glance up at him with a little smile. You can’t deny it, you loved this fucker.

As if reading your mind, Joel shoots you a wink and looks at Dave again.

“Was nice meeting you, Dave.” Then he takes a card out of his wallet and puts it on the table.

“If you wanna share the progress, training this one,” he nods at you, “give me a call.”

Then he gets up, adjusts his bulge and leaves the restaurant.

Thank you for reading!❤️ Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic, it motivates me to write more filth for you, lovelies!🩷🌸

Pt 2 Who’s your daddy? || Masterlist

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#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller smut #dave york #joel miller fanfiction #dave york x reader #joel miller x reader x dave york #joel miller x reader #dave york x you #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x you #the last of us #equalizer 2 #the equalizer 2 #joel miller tlou #dave york x female reader #joel smut #joel fanfiction

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httpiastri · 1 year ago

Text

this christmas – op81

ski slopes, mistletoes, and the guy you've been crushing on for years – what could be better?

genre: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers!au, smut (just one scene in the end, you can skip it if you want)

pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri

other characters: lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell & mundt, alex albon & lily muni he, pierre gasly & kika cerqueira gomes

warnings: mentions of alcohol, smut, not much more i think

word count: 13.8k (LMAO)

requested?: yes!!

author’s note: hello hello!! a lot to say about this one. first of all, thank you to @be-your-coffee-pot for this request, and i apologize for not getting to it earlier than now. for everyone’s knowledge, the request was sent in to me in august, so… yeah. i know it’s not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway <3

second of all, i feel pretty happy about some of these scenes, but some… not so much. some of the fillers have parts that i really despite, but i don’t really have time to rewrite since christmas is like 2 days away lol. also, my description of the reader’s relationship to charles is not my best work, idk why he barely even appears, and i’m also not sure why logan isn’t in this...

third of all, my red divider things make my posts disappear from the tags, so i didn’t put any in this time. it looks bad, i know, but idk how to fix it. if anyone does, please let me know. :)

and lastly: i only proofread this whole thing once yesterday, but tumblr was being a bitch and i got so frustrated that i do not have the energy to proofread it again. so please, if you happen to find any spelling or grammar mistakes, i would be very thankful if you let me know. <3

hope you all enjoy !!

december 12th, 2:11pm

oscar has always loved winter.

it started in his childhood; the holiday films he'd seen as a child, the way it always seemed to magically snow right on christmas eve really started something in him. it hadn't been common for him to get snow back home in australia when he was younger but once he moved to the england, he got to experience it quite a lot. playing, fighting and just existing in the snow was like an unfilled childhood need that stayed with him until his older years.

he loved spending christmas at home with his family, but ever since he got to experience real christmases with snow, trees and cozy darkness, he craved it more than he craved lying on the beach in his swimming trunks.

so when he was asked to come along to the swiss alps for a vacation during the winter break, he packed his bags right away. he and lando just happened to book the same flight, and they both arrived at the airport around noon, getting into a cab to take them to the accommodation together.

when they arrive outside the cottage, oscar is in shock; it is enormous. he had imagined just a tiny, cute little house – not that he was sure how seven drivers and a couple of girlfriends would fit in a "tiny" house – but he was far from right.

him and lando are the second pair to arrive, just about an hour after alex and lily, who are the self-proclaimed 'hosts' as they took care of all of the booking and planning.

"we thought that one would be lando's room," alex starts, pointing down the hallway. "since it's far away from everyone else, and i'm sure we all would prefer to actually get some sleep during the night time."

"oh, shut it..." lando mumbles, shoving his friend on his shoulder.

"this one can be yours, oscar," lily says, moving in the opposite direction and gesturing to another room. then, she points at the one right next to it. "and this one has two beds, so it's for charles and his sister."

oscar's ears perk up. "y/n is going to be here?" he speaks almost took quickly, making the other three turn to look at him.

"oh, i thought you knew..." lily has an apologetic look on her face.

"i must've forgotten," oscar answers, though he's completely sure no one told him about it. there's no way he would forget you. "don't worry, it's cool."

the hosts continue to move down the hallway, and the mclaren boys are just about to follow along when lando elbows oscar's side playfully. "it's cool?"

oscar raises an eyebrow, trying to keep calm. "what?"

"the youngest leclerc coming along?" a grin takes up lando's entire face. "it's just cool? is she cool, or-"

"goodbye, lando." oscar shakes his head, darting towards alex and lily again. he takes a few deep breaths, hoping the blush he can feel spreading across his cheeks isn't too obvious.

unfortunately, lando didn't need to see the blush to know. he has caught his teammate staring at you too many times over the season, and he is fully aware of the way oscar always is suddenly interested in the conversation whenever you're the topic of discussion.

lando knows everything. and this christmas, he's going to be the best wingman the world has ever seen.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 12:53am

it's past midnight when you and charles arrive. your flight had been delayed, and then the gps had stopped working all of a sudden. and then, charles just refused to drive any faster than 30 km/h, saying it was too dangerous. as if he didn't drive cars in ten times that speed without even flinching.

you assume the whole house is sleeping already, so you and charles both sneak in as quietly as you can. someone – lily, assumably – has left you a note on the front door, guiding you to your shared room. it all goes smoothly – until charles trips over the doorframe, dropping his bag onto the floor as he tries not to fall down. the sound rattles through the hallway and you flinch, stopping in your tracks as you hope no one's woken up. but just a second later, the door opposite yours opens and a head sticks out.

oscar.

your heart softens and your shoulders relax when your gaze meets his. your soft smile is mirrored on his face, the sleepiness evident in his droopy eyes and the way strands of his bedhead point in every direction.

he looks like he's just about to say something when charles speaks up. "sorry, man! were you asleep?"

he walks up to the australian, giving him a firm handshake and a pat on the back. oscar shakes his head. "i was up reading," his huskey accent is like music to your ears. "i thought i heard some rustling out here, and then..." he nods his head toward the suitcase on the floor.

your brother laughs as he steps back, walking into the room with the "leclerc" sign. "well, i'll let you get back to that then," he says, picking up the bag from the floor and looking back one last time. "good night."

and then, you were just two.

you and oscar stand still for a moment, just watching each other. then, he opens up his arms, welcoming you into his embrace. you step forward and drape your arms around his shoulders as his wrap around your waist, and you let out a content sigh. he's warm, comfortable, and the way he squeezes your body has your mind spinning.

"it's been a while," he says when you part from the hug, a soft grin playing on his lips.

"like a month," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest.

"a month has never felt this long before."

you're not sure when your crush on him started forming.

as someone who's always been interested in racing, even in the series your brother isn't in, you've kept up with most results and championships – including oscar's seasons in f2 and f3. after seeing oscar, the unstoppable rookie who completely crushed his season in f3, you made sure to keep an eye at him in f2 the following year. and it's easy to say that you liked what you saw. especially in jeddah.

you'd meet him occasionally around the paddock the following year, just giving him a sweet smile and a quick greeting as if it was no big deal. but you always found yourself squealing on the inside and taking deep breaths to stay calm whenever you made eye contact with him.

then came 2023 and his debut in f1. yet again, he exceeded everyone's expectations, performing better than most drivers who'd been on the grid for years. with his permanent role on the grid, he was around more – and so were you. it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to bump into each other, around the paddock or during media days or in afterparties, and now you tried not to shy away.

talking to oscar was always simple. he was easygoing, it all seemed effortless, and you felt more relaxed. before you knew it, you could chat about racing strategies and tyre management for twenty minutes before a member of the mclaren staff interrupted you, rushing oscar away somewhere. you got to know each other slowly throughout the season, though never really going further than some friendly conversations, but you felt happy knowing that you'd taken the first step towards getting closer to him.

"so..." he starts. "you've been good?"

you nod. "yeah, a lot of studying but it's been alright. you?"

"yeah."

and there it is again, that slightly awkward silence. it's natural, you haven't seen each other since that night in abu dhabi and you're both a little unsure of where you stand after it. the tension is so thick that you could cut through it with a knife, and you kind of want to escape the whole situation. but then he speaks up.

"hey, i just wanted to-"

he's interrupted by the call of your name, and when you turn around, charles is leaning against the doorframe, eyes hazy. "are you going to sleep tonight or what?" he asks, dragging a hand through his already messy hair.

you feel a weight lift off your shoulders – and at the same time, your stomach tightens in disappointment. you nod at your brother, looking back at oscar to give him a wave and a "sleep well", before joining charles in your shared room.

oscar stands still in the corridor for a moment, before sighing and slapping himself in his mind for being so awkward and messing up this opportunity. but on the other side of the door, you stand still too as you watch your brother jump onto his bed, taking a deep breath to clear your mind.

you're just thankful the room is so dark that he can't see your ever-reddening cheeks.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 10:24am

despite the never-ending pitter-patter of your heart as you went to bed last night, you could fall asleep quite quickly, seeing as you were utterly exhausted from traveling. breakfast this morning feels like you and charles have just been reunited with your childhood friends after being kidnapped for years; not like you had just gone a few weeks without seeing each other. everyone runs around hugging, chatting about how much they've missed each other and how great this trip will be.

"did you get new highlights?" kika asks you, sliding into the seat next to you by the long table as you stuff a piece of bread into your mouth. the room is a combination of a kitchen and a dining hall, with a big cooking area and a glass wall giving the dining area a beautiful view of the mountains outside. in the middle stands a long table with enough seats for all of you, filled with fresh pastries and other breakfast goods to celebrate the first day of the trip. "or is it just the light?"

"just the light," you answer, shooting her a smile as you pick up your cup of coffee.

"oh my god, i almost forgot to ask you," lily starts and places her elbows on the table, her face resting in her hands. "what happened to that guy from raya you were talking to? did you end up going out?"

oscar is sitting a few seats down the table, pretending to be immersed in a conversation with some of the other drivers about the last few races of the season, while actually just doing his best to listen in on the conversation you're having. when he hears alex's girlfriend mention raya, his ears perk up and his breath gets caught in his throat. a million thoughts instantly crash into his mind.

she's seeing someone? how could i not know this? she's on raya? is she actively looking for a partner? who is this guy they're talking about?

he coughs and tries to act normal, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling passing through his body. he soon hears the sweet sound of your wholehearted laughter, and he almost smiles instinctively at it, before he can remind himself that lando's story about las vegas isn't exactly a smiley matter. "you're not going to believe this, i have the best story," you say in-between fits of giggles. "i met up with him for some drinks, and guess what he said? that he has a foot fetish and has dreamed about me caressing his face with my feet." all of the girls squeal and explode with laughter, making some of the boys flinch and look over to see what all the commotion is about. "so, safe to say, we never met up again. and i haven't wanted to go out with anyone else from there, either. i have a feeling they're all just creeps."

"hey, don't lose hope!" kika says while elbowing your side, but her actions are too soft, forcing you to fold over as an uncomfortable feeling spreads through your body. however, a burst of laughter spills past your lips. kika immediately holds her arm back, laughing along. "crap, i'm sorry! i totally forgot how ticklish you are."

you shake your head, your hand landing on her shoulder. "no worries," you tell her. "but, i haven't lost hope. i just don't think my soulmate is lurking around on raya with the foot fetishists."

oscar feels his shoulders relax again, feeling alright with focusing back on the boys' conversation now that he knows you in fact aren't seeing anyone.

maybe he has a shot, after all. as long as he doesn't talk too much about your feet.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 14th, 3:09pm

lando thinks he's so smart.

when he tells oscar to go ask if you'd like to have some of the gingerbread cookies he's bought, it's the third time today he has forced some kind of interaction between the two of you. he is sure that the more time that the two of you spend with each other, the more likely you will be to stop pining and just confess already.

but this time, oscar glares at the brit. "why don't you ask her yourself?"

"because you know what room she's in," lando hums back, reaching into the cupboard with some groceries. "i keep getting lost, the house is too big. plus, i'm busy." he motions to the half-empty grocery bag on the counter.

oscar lets out a sigh, but nods. "how can you memorize all tracks on the calendar, but you get lost in a cabin?" he asks rhetorically, whilst turning around and making his way down the hallway towards your room.

it's not that oscar doesn't enjoy 'accidentally' being forced into talking to you; it's the extreme lack of discretion lando is showing that makes him annoyed. it makes oscar seem like he's the one coming up with silly excuses to talk to you, and he doesn't like how it makes him look. he'd rather be seen as chill, laidback, someone who doesn't force things. he doesn't want you to catch on too early and reject him.

your voice echoes a 'come in' when he knocks on the door to your bedroom, and he pushes the door open just a little to reveal you sitting on the bed, a thick blanket wrapped over your shoulders. a grin spreads across your lips when you make eye contact with him. "hi," you say, placing the book you were reading on the bedside table.

"hey," he answers, stepping inside the room. "i... lando bought some gingerbread cookies, and we were going to make some hot chocolate, and..." his voice trails off as his eyes wander down your body, taking in the christmas sweater you're wearing and the fuzzy socks covering your feet. he smiles absentmindedly at the sight, loving how cozy you seem, and wishing he was sitting right there with you, sharing the blanket.

you nod, understanding him despite his lack of words. "i'll be right there."

oscar gives you a thumbs up – one he then facepalms himself for when he's left your room – before moving towards the kitchen again. but when he walks into it, he sees something hanging from a lamp. he stops in his tracks. "no way..."

festive cookies aren't the only thing lando bought when he went to the local supermarket. he also got the ultimate tool for securing his master plan – a mistletoe.

he doesn't know how, but he's planning to make sure you and oscar meet underneath it at least once before the holidays are over. there's no way you'll both be able to avoid it all week.

of course, lando isn't the only one rooting for the two of you. most of the other drivers know too – how can they not notice the glances you share and the way you light up when someone mentions the other in a conversation? – and most of them are in on his plans. charles is probably the only one in the house who's still oblivious to your and oscar's pining, and lando thinks that he might interfere with the matchmaking if he figures something out, so the brit keeps quiet.

oscar wants to pull the mistletoe down, rip it apart and throw it in the trash, but he refrains. something inside him tells him this might actually work out in his favor – and he decides to trust his gut this time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 15th, 2:01am

sleeping can be tricky, especially when your brother is snoring loudly in a bed just a few meters away from you.

who even decided to put him and you in the same room?

when you've been tossing and turning to no avail for about an hour, you decide it's time to do something, anything, to hopefully get a little tired again. a glass of warm milk never hurt anyone, did it?

you make your way to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of milk and put it in the microwave, before turning to look through the windows.

the view of the mountains is breathtaking. there is an untouched, thick layer of snow covering the area, with new flakes still falling. the sun set long ago, but the snow makes it all seem light. the lake below you is just barely visible by now, almost completely coated in snow.

it's completely serene, and you find yourself getting lost in the scenery. however, you're shaken out of your trance when you hear steps behind you. when you turn around, your eyes find someone standing just a few meters away, barely visible in the dark.

you jump in your place and clutch your chest in shock, not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. when the person steps into the light of the little kitchen lap you had turned on, you relax instantly. "holy shit, oscar," you breathe. "you nearly scared me to death."

"i'm sorry," the australian chuckles. "i didn't know how to approach you without scaring you..."

"what even are you doing up?" you question, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter.

"i was just reading in my bed when i heard your door opening, and then footsteps, so..." he trails off when his eyes wander out towards the living room, seemingly just as taken by the sight as you were just moments ago. "i wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"well, everything is okay, so..."

there's some kind of awkwardness hanging in the air. it's not only because of the obvious uncertainty of what to say or do in this situation; it has more to do with the fact that this isn't the first time that the two of you have found yourselves this close with this much tension, all alone at night. sure, it's a lot like the night of your arrival here, but another memory springs to your mind, too.

just under a month ago, following the after-party in abu dhabi, oscar had accompanied you back to the hotel when you started getting too tipsy to keep yourself up on the dance floor. your brother had been nowhere in sight, so oscar took it upon himself to help you out, draping an arm across your waist before walking you all the way to your hotel room. and when you'd arrived in the dimly lit corridor, you'd turned up towards him to thank him, accidentally brushing your nose against his as you did. both of you had broken out in giggles, neither especially sober, but you stayed close – and when the laughter settled, you just watched each other. when his gaze had flickered between your eyes and lips, your breath hitched in your throat, the anticipation growing stronger. you had leaned in even closer, your eyes fluttering closed-

but just as your lips were about to brush his, you had been interrupted. a door a few meters away had opened and the two of you jumped apart, watching as your brother stepped out and exclaimed that he had been wondering where you ended up. oscar had wished you both a good night before hurrying off, the embarrassment of almost getting caught by his friend being too much for him to handle.

you just hoped oscar had been too drunk to remember it, because otherwise, things were bound to get quite awkward. you didn't want him to act differently around you just because you have feelings for him.

thankfully, he hasn't said or done anything to make you think he does remember it.

as you're thinking back to that night in abu dhabi, you nearly get your second heart attack when the microwave goes off with a loud beep. you scramble to turn it off and take out your milk, almost burning yourself on the hot glass in the meantime.

oscar watches you with an amused grin before he forces his gaze off you, eyes wandering over to the windows again. "quite the view, huh?"

you look over your shoulder at the blanketed mountains. "yeah, it's breathtaking," you reply, before growing quiet.

he pauses for a moment, too. "there's something magical about this place. makes everything seem simpler, quieter..."

you nod. "yeah, it does."

something about the moment makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, the awkwardness between you and oscar isn't as insurmountable as you once thought it would be. the shared quietude is comfortable, and you feel at ease. he hasn't brought up abu dhabi – he probably won't, you feel – and maybe you could both just put it behind you and focus on enjoying your trip.

when you eventually get back in your bed, it's with the same kind of pitter-patter of your heart as when you and charles arrived in the cabin a few days ago. needless to say, the glass of warm milk probably isn't going to help.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 16th, 9:02pm

the mistletoe has moved.

when you first noticed it the other day, it was hanging from a kitchen lamp. and now, it's in the doorframe leading into the living room.

you're planning on avoiding it at all costs, not wanting to slip up and accidentally get under it with the wrong person. or the right one, for that matter. the awkwardness of kissing your crush in front of friends and family would be too much to handle.

some others seem to have the exact opposite attitude towards the decoration, though. kika and pierre can be found by it about ten times per day, and alex and lily have no issues sharing a few kisses whenever they "accidentally" pass it.

no matter what, lando has a mischievous grin whenever anyone mentions it, or even walks near it.

his grin stays on when he decides to let himself be in charge of the outing you all have to the christmas tree farm nearby. the farm is too big and would take too long if everyone was going to look at every tree, so lando divides everyone into groups of two based on who they're standing next to as you walk past the gates.

what a coincidence that you're standing right next to oscar when he says this.

lando ushers the two of you off to the rows with quite tall, pre-decorated trees. "so," oscar starts as you both stop in front of a tree with white lights and ornaments hung all over it. "what do you think about this one?"

"well, it's lovely," you say, scanning it thoroughly. "but isn't the true test how well it fits into the living room?"

he nods, despite his confusion, and he shoots a curious glance your way. "and how do we determine that?"

with a playful grin, you hold up an imaginary measuring tape, pretending to size up the tree with a critical eye. "i'm trying to figure out if it fits this corner best, or..."

he follows your gaze, realizing the tease in your words. "i think maybe it's better in the other corner," he hums and points to the side as you turn a little.

"exactly."

lando never inserted himself into a group; he's too focused on watching the two of you share a lighthearted laugh at the situation. though his mistletoe back in the cabin might still have a trick or two up its metaphorical sleeve, he is already proud of his matchmaking antics.

and, he is sure you'll both crack. it is just a matter of time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 17th, 1:43pm

"i never thought skiing would be this hard," you groan as you step into a cottage, the warmth enveloping you and beginning to defrost you instantly.

oscar laughs at the exasperated tone in your voice. "this was just the kids' slope, you do remember that, right?" you stick your tongue out at him, slumping down on a bench by a table. "you just wait before you do some real skiing..."

you had never skied before today. oscar had, but he said it was too long ago and that he needed an easy start. plus, he couldn't just leave you all alone in the children's slope without an instructor.

you'd fallen over at least five times, despite the fact that the slope was practically flat. thankfully, oscar promised to buy you some hot chocolate in a cottage café to cheer you up.

when he comes back from the cashier carrying two big, steaming cups of chocolate, you've regained most of the feeling in your fingers again. the hot piece of ceramic almost burns your skin, but you think it's worth it; you need the sugar and you need it now.

"you know what the worst thing is?" you ask, bringing the cup up to your face with both hands. you start sipping on the drink and oscar glances at you with a questioning look as he slips down next to you on the bench. "carrying those goddamn skis with me. not only does it suck to actually ski, but dragging them all the way from the rental shop…"

"if it's that much of a bother, i can carry them for you."

"and carry your own too?" you scoff, watching him flinch as he burns his tongue on the drink. "you're not that strong."

he lets out a groan. "you're not even strong enough to carry your own, so you shouldn't say anything."

"i can carry them!" you protest, shooting him a glare. "i just don't want to. two very different things."

you both go silent momentarily, too busy focusing on how good it feels to no longer be frozen to the marrow. the cabin is filled with people; kids running in circles around the tables, soon to be tired again after the initial sugar shock from their afternoon snack; a group of older ladies gossiping and enjoying getting some rest just like you; and some young adults in the far corner are already busy dancing on the tables with their after-ski drinks in their hands.

"you know what? i changed my mind," you tell him, scooting away from him a little and placing your skiing boot on the bench. "these things. they're the worst."

you start to unclasp the boot, sighing in relief as you finally tug the shoe off your foot, throwing it onto the floor. you've only worn it for about an hour, but you can already feel the bruises beginning to form. you're just about to reach down to undo the other boot, too, when oscar reaches towards your foot.

your eyebrows shoot up as he takes it in his hands, pulling the foot into his lap. and then, his fingers begin to wander up and down your foot and ankle, giving you soft squeezes and pressing down on the spaces where he thinks the boot has squeezed you the most. you hold back a pleasured sound, seeing as it would sound way too inappropriate right now, but oscar subconsciously takes note of how you're getting flushed because he soon looks up at your face.

"is this okay?"

you swallow down the lump in your throat, nodding quickly. "y-yeah… just don't tickle me..."

when did things get so intimate? mere minutes ago, you couldn't think about anything other than how you were so cold your nose was going to fall off. but now, you can't stop your eyes from following his long, sleek fingers, thinking about how good they feel and imagining how good they would feel somewhere else-

"give me your other foot."

you're thankful that he interrupts your train of thought before your mind wanders too far.

compose yourself, woman.

"don't tell me you have a foot fetish, too," you tease, turning around so that you can place your other foot on the bench too. he lets out a hearty laugh, swiftly undoing your other boot before letting it drop to the ground.

"oh, shut it. do you want a massage or not?"

you shoot him pout, giving his shoulder a thankful pat before taking your cup in your hands again. you focus on the drink, watching how the steam rises and the marshmallows melt. you can't look over at him anymore, scared of your cheeks growing too red and your face giving away your feelings.

the bell by the door rings behind you, and you look towards it out of habit. and in comes alex, george, lily and carmen, laughing and chatting loudly about the black slope they just went down. oscar doesn't seem to notice, but you hastily pull your feet from his lap, sitting down properly – unfortunately making eye contact with alex as you do. he leans forward to lily, whispering something in her ear, and you watch as her eyes dart to you and a smirk grows on her lips.

shit.

the clicking of her boots against the stone floor meets your ears and oscar turns his head at the sound, suddenly realizing why you withdrew from him. "hey there," lily cheers, each of her hands landing your and oscar's shoulders. "what have you been up to?"

your eyes meet his briefly, before looking back up at lily. "just... drinking some chocolate..."

"oh, no skiing?"

"she crashed too much, i couldn't keep her out there and let her continue to embarrass me all day," oscar tells her and you shove his shoulder.

"do you mind if we join you guys?" george asks, coming around the table and not even giving you a second to think about it before he sets two cups of chocolate down on the table. the grin he's wearing only tells you one thing: alex told him already. carmen's lips show off a matching set.

"not at all..."

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 10:32am

you huff as you slump down on the living room couch, your mood not even getting brought up by watching the newly installed christmas tree in front of you. you hadn't even been out skiing that much yesterday, yet every single inch of your body aches. not only do you have big, blue bruises on both of your hips due to the many times you've fallen onto the hardly packed snow, but every muscle screams with pain as you drape a blanket over your body. needless to say, you decided to stay at home today instead of heading out with the others for another round.

"are you sure you don't wanna come along?" kika asks as she enters the room, her pretty pink sunglasses perched at the top of her nose. the pout on her lips almost makes you doubt staying in, but when you move to sit up more straight again, you know you've made the right decision.

you nod, giving her a weak smile. "yeah, sorry."

"but oscar promised to come along?"

you freeze, your cheeks growing red as you hear her words.

did she know? about your feelings for him? did the others already tell her about the incident in the cottage yesterday? did they really interpret the situation that way?

"w-what?"

"oh," she chuckles at your reaction. "i just meant that he was so bad yesterday, so i thought that seeing him fall over a couple of times would be worth the pain."

"we're gonna trick him into going down a black slope with us," says pierre who walks into the room, arms lacing around his girlfriend from behind. "we'll send some clips."

you let out a breath of relief as they leave the room. maybe they don't know. maybe your secret will stay secret for a little longer.

the group leaves in pairs or trios and you tell them all goodbye from your place underneath the many blankets. everyone has left by now except for oscar, which confounds you since the others seemed to have so many plans for him. your confusion only grows when he steps into the living room without any skiing gear on, just wearing an oversized, cozy hoodie and a pair of sweats.

"why aren't you out with the others?" you question, your eyebrows raised at him.

"well," he sighs, flopping down next to you on the couch. "i can't find my helmet." when you shoot him a doubting look, he raises his hands defensively. "what?"

"i don't believe it."

"you don't have to, but it's the truth."

"how do you even lose a helmet? it's so big?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "i assumed you were used to keeping track of where your helmet is since if you don't have your helmet with you for races, then you can't race."

"i swear i put it on the drawer by the front door like half an hour ago. i don't understand what could've happened."

you have to give it to him; he is really doing his best to cover this up. you find it pretty obvious that he just doesn't want to ski because of what the others were planning to do to him. but maybe if kika and pierre hadn't spilled their plans already, you would've believed him.

"but hey," he says, bringing you out of your thoughts. "don't feel obligated to include me in whatever you were going to do here now that you finally have the house to yourself." he pushes himself off the couch, standing up and shooting you one last smile before turning to walk away. "i'll let you have some peace."

he takes a couple of steps towards the bedrooms, but then you get the idea. "oscar." he stops in his tracks, throwing a glance back at you. "i was planning on doing some baking, and…" you shuffle slightly in your seat. "it wouldn't hurt to have an extra helping hand."

"i'm a horrible baker, though."

"and i'm the best baker ever, so i guess we cancel each other out." you stand up from your seat, keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you make your way toward the kitchen. "let's go make some mediocre cookies!"

oscar shakes his head, grinning to himself as he follows behind you. this was definitely not what he had planned, but he sure is liking the way it's going.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 8:14pm

oscar had not been kidding when he said he sucked at baking.

he put in twice the needed amount of flour, and only half of the sugar. and as if that wasn't enough, of course the mistletoe had moved to the kitchen, making the whole situation quite uncomfortable as you both had to take strange routes while navigating through the kitchen to avoid it. not even your baking skills could save the cookies.

as an apology, oscar promised to buy some fancy gingerbread cookies tonight at the christmas market you'd all planned to go to in a nearby city. he was strongly set on going through with his promise, despite how many times you told him that it was alright and that they wouldn't taste as good as homemade ones anyway.

you've all been at the market for almost two hours now, but it feels like you've only gone about ten meters. your friends, mainly lando, george and alex, are stopping at every single shop and stand, making sure to check out all products and buying at least one thing in every store, no matter how long the line to the cash register is.

"lando-" you groan at the sight of the brit running into yet another store; this time, a shop filled with christmassy outfits for dogs. "he doesn't even have a pet…"

kika is grinning next to you, shaking her head. "he told me earlier today that he wanted to buy a present for roscoe if he got the chance," she says as most of the group joins lando. "makes more sense than when he bought that screwdriver thirty minutes ago just because it was green."

"the power of 'christmas colors', apparently," you hear oscar's voice from behind you, and you turn back to meet his eyes.

"well, i'm not surprised. just disappointed. and cold, and tired of standing still."

oscar points his head to the side, up the street. "i think i saw a stand a little further up that sells cookies, maybe they have some gingerbread ones."

you nod, a small smile entering your lips. "let's go check it out, then. kika, do you wanna come-"

you're cut off by the sound of pierre calling for his girlfriend, holding up a reindeer costume and blabbering on about how it would be perfect for her cousin's dog. "sorry guys," kika says before strutting off to her boyfriend.

you both shrug before walking down the street towards the stand oscar had spotted. the sugary scent of cookies meets your nose from far away, and your mouth waters at the mere thought of the sweets. when you arrive, a sweet old lady sitting behind the stand greets you and tells you all about the different cookies she's baked. gingerbread, sugar cookies with little candy canes, snowball cookies, and various traditional swiss cookies.

"would you like to have a taste, dears?" the lady asks, pointing her hand to a plate with samples. you and oscar take a gingerbread cookie each, popping it into your mouths.

"oh yeah, this is lovely," he says, looking like he's savoring every crumb.

"much better than ours," you answer, nudging his shoulder with yours. he gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning offense.

you turn your attention back to the lady and telling her you'd love to buy a little box of cookies from her. oscar pays for them and she wraps the box in some pretty gift paper, handing it to you before you continue making your way down the street. the house walls and all trees are wrapped in christmas lights, some blinking in random colors and some with a soft glow of an elegant white. the streets are filled with people wearing santa hats, ugly christmas sweaters, and scarves so big half of their faces are covered. there's not a single frown in sight, the happiness and love so obvious you can almost see little hearts flowing above everyone's heads.

you glance into a couple of different stores as you stroll, stopping occasionally to check something out. when you reach a stand with different kinds of jewelry, something catches your eye: a golden necklace with a heart-shaped charm hanging from it. you carefully pick it up, your heart fluttering in your chest as you inspect it.

and when you look up at oscar from the necklace in your hands, he feels like the air is stolen from his lungs. your eyes are twinkling with happiness, outshining all lights in the entire christmas market. the excited smile on your lips is contagious, and suddenly, it's like the world around you has stopped and everyone else has disappeared. you're both just grinning at each other like two lovestruck fools, nothing in either of your minds other than the person in front of you. the sight of your rosy cheeks from the cold makes the butterflies in his stomach multiply by the second.

wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.

"really pretty," he finally gets out, unsure if he's talking about the necklace or the woman standing before him.

"pretty? it's gorgeous," you answer, eyes flickering back to the jewelry in your hand. "i adore it. how much is it?"

just as the guy in the booth is about to answer, you feel someone grab your free hand. "come on guys, they're closing down soon and we still have a bunch of shops to visit!" kika is pulling you along so fast you barely have time to put the necklace down.

lily notices the disappointment on your face and pats your shoulder. "we'll come back here sometime before christmas, don't worry."

lando shows you the christmas tree costume he bought as you wander down the market again, but oscar suddenly stops. "guys, i forgot my phone back at the cookie stand. keep walking, i'll catch up with you," he says, pointing behind him with his thumb and disappearing before anyone can say anything.

it's a good excuse, but you clearly see the outline of his phone in his back pocket as he hurries down the street.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 19th, 9:22pm

the days roll on with a gentle rhythm of shared glances and fleeting touches between you and oscar. unbeknownst to both of you, lando, ever the persistent wingman, continues his behind-the-scenes matchmaking efforts.

in some magical way, lando manages to get you and oscar paired up for pretty much anything. board game night? you and oscar just happen to get the exact role cards that make you teammates. time for some ornament decorating? you and oscar are the only ones who don't get a seat on the couch, having to sit on the floor together and share all your materials.

funnily enough, it never gets awkward between the two of you. even when you are left all alone, there is always something to talk about, some dumb thing lando has done that you can tease him about behind his back, or something you are curious about when it comes to his racing career so far. somehow, being with oscar started feeling comfortable, natural, unforced.

one specific night, alex comes up with the idea of playing card games, to which only a few of you are actually interested. some plan on going to bed early so they can hit the slopes first thing in the morning, while others just aren't in the mood. oscar said he would just finish wrapping some christmas presents and join you all later, and you catch yourself feeling disappointed that he's not on the couch next to you, helping you win (or taunting you to make you lose). it surprises you how much you're drawn to him, how it feels like something is missing when he isn't around, when you didn't feel this way just a few days ago.

you try to shake the feeling off, but it's still lingering even as you start playing with your friends. eventually, you excuse yourself to get a glass of water from the kitchen to take your mind off things. but-

just as you round the corner going into the kitchen, your head crashes into something hard. you shriek as you stumble, hands coming up to grab the person in front of you as you lose your balance, but a pair of hands wrap around your back, holding you up. when you look up, you're met with oscar's big brown eyes blinking down at you. "you okay there?"

you let out a relieved breath, nodding at him. "yeah, thanks to you. what were you doing coming around the corner that fast, though?"

he chuckles. "what were you doing not looking where you're going?"

"touché."

your hands are still holding on to the front of his hoodie, and you're about to let go of him and walk away when you notice something in the upper periphery of your vision. something is hanging above you. but, it can't be-

of course it is.

the mistletoe.

oscar looks up just as you do, jaw dropping slightly. "oh..."

"indeed..."

you both keep your vision pointed up, as if the mistletoe would disappear if you just keep on staring at it. oscar's hands slowly begin to slide off your back, and he's hoping you'll both just pretend like none of this ever happened. it would be the least awkward thing to do.

"maybe-" his breath hitches in his throat when you speak up. his gaze is on you again, but you're still looking at the plant. "maybe we should do it. just... for the christmas spirit, you know. i love christmas."

you don't even know what you're blabbering on about. you're trying to improvise a reason to kiss your brother's colleague that makes at least a little sense, but you're completely lost. you realize how dumb you sound, and you expect to see him staring at you like you actually are insane when you look back at him.

but what you don't know is that he thinks it's the best idea ever. he is just as into it as you are, if not more. he doesn't look at you like you're crazy; he's just dumbfounded, blinking at you as he tries to understand what's happening. did the girl he likes really just say they should kiss? because she loves christmas?

oscar gulps, but something in him gives him the courage to nod. "i mean," he starts, voice weak. "what's the harm? it's just... tradition."

"right. yeah, that's exactly what i was thinking."

the tension is higher than ever as your faces are already just inches apart. you aren't sure who should take the initiative and lean in, but before you can overthink it, you're both doing it subconsciously. your noses brush against each other briefly and a little giggle escapes past your lips, and this whole situation feels very familiar. this time, oscar can't hold back anymore, so he closes the gap and presses his mouth to yours.

the kiss is quick, not much longer than a peck, but something changes inside you. when you didn't know what it felt like to kiss oscar, you didn't think too much about it. but now that you have felt his lips on yours, you crave it.

he seems to feel the same way, because when you kiss him again, he's pressing against you instantly. your hands move from his chest to his shoulders as your lips move in sync, tilting your head to get a better angle. oscar's touch travels up and down your sides, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach when your sweater lifts.

oscar takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and you let out a hum, making him grin into the kiss. his tongue swipes between your lips before slipping into your mouth, exploring it for the first, but hopefully not last, time. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, already growing hot as his hands move down to your butt.

kissing oscar is so easy, so comfortable. it's like you've done it so many times before, like it's what you were made to do.

you're so relaxed and so focused on the kiss that you don't even hear lando's footsteps right next to you, nor his snicker from a few meters away as he picks up his phone to snap a couple of pictures. you don't even hear him strutting away to the living room, nor his loud proclamation to the group: mission complete.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 8:35am

the rest of the days leading up to christmas consist of a lot of sneaking around.

the days are filled with secretive kisses when you're sure no one is watching, fleeting pecks or longer liplocks, hurriedly parting and acting like nothing happened when you hear approaching footsteps. they're filled with soft brushes as you pass each other in hallways, little squeezes of your waist or his arm when someone is around, conveying more than anyone could guess. and they're filled with giant, knowing smiles matching on your lips, with longing gazes and sly winks across the dinner table.

now, his hand is warm in yours despite the freezing temperatures of the air. when you said you forgot your mittens in the cabin, oscar had just smiled, taking off one of his own to give it to you. and to heat your other hand, he intertwined his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as you walked.

you'd slipped out of the house before anyone else had woken up, wishing for a peaceful moment for yourselves. the two of you haven't really had time to properly talk ever since your moment under the mistletoe, and even though it wasn't outspoken, you both knew there were things to be discussed.

you're halfway around the lake when he finally touches on the subject. "so..." he starts, nudging your shoulder with his. "you like me, huh?"

you snicker. "i have for quite some time now, actually."

his hand squeezes yours. "tell me about it."

and when he asks, you tell.

you tell him about seeing him all those years ago, thinking that he was just a pretty face, a good driver, and not much else. you tell him about getting to know him more and more in the last two years and realizing that shit, he's so much more than that. you tell him about the butterflies, about the sneaky glances, about falling for him.

and then, he tells you his side.

he tells you about knowing of you from your first appearances in the f1 paddock, the curiosity in him growing for every picture of you and charles he saw. he tells you about wanting to approach you but not knowing how, not wanting to come off too strong or clingy. he tells you about how nothing has ever been more disappointing to him than charles's timing back in abu dhabi. then, he tells you about how his fingers had secretly been crossed all trip, hoping that lando's attempts to pair the two of you up wouldn't fall through.

you share giggles and smiles as you tell your stories, and it all feels so natural even though it's so new. and you think to yourself that maybe, this won't be so hard to get used to.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 5:46pm

"how are things going with oscar?"

lily's voice makes your heart skip a beat. you had just walked into the kitchen to grab a gingerbread cookie, not expecting her to be doing the dishes this late in the evening – and especially not expecting her to ask you something like that. "what do you mean?" you ask back, trying to stay composed as you strut over to the cupboard, reaching into it for the box of cookies.

"are you going to be like... boyfriend and girlfriend now?"

the box slips out of your hands and crashes to the floor before you can catch it again. did you hear her correctly? your eyebrows shoot up and your mouth hangs open as you look at her again. she scoffs.

"oh please, the two of you aren't exactly sneaky," she says, looking back into the sink. "you know, lando took pictures of you under the mistletoe. and we all saw you coming back from your little trip to the lake earlier today."

"oh my god." you cover your face with your hands, letting out a groan. "oh my god. no way."

lily laughs, washing the last few plates under the tap before placing them on the side to drain. "don't worry, we were all in on it."

"and what does that mean?!"

"lando had a plan." of course he did. "we all agreed to help him out. except charles, he's still oblivious."

"what kind of plan?"

"well, just small things here and there, really." she wipes her hands on a towel before turning around and leaning against the counter. "hiding oscar's helmet so he'd have to stay here with you instead of skiing with us. walking really slowly in the market so you'd both get so tired of us that you'd stroll off alone. and the mistletoe, but that's obvious..."

as lily spills the details of lando's plan, you feel a mix of embarrassment and surprise, along with a hint of amusement. you're suddenly very aware of the collaboration that has taken place behind the scenes, and you take a deep breath as you slowly lower your hands from your face.

"so... lando really orchestrated all of this?" you exclaim, still trying to process the fact that your friends have been actively working to bring you and oscar closer together.

lily chuckles, nodding. "yes, and he's been loving every moment of it. we all figured you two needed a little push."

you shake your head in disbelief, a smile playing on your lips despite the initial shock. "what's the endgame here? is lando secretly a matchmaker or something?"

"he wishes," she says with a smirk. "i think he just enjoys playing cupid when he can." she shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. "but hey, it worked out well, didn't it? you and oscar seem pretty cozy."

"yeah, i guess..." the mention of oscar brings a blush to your cheeks. "i just didn't expect to have a whole team of co-conspirators."

lily laughs, stepping forward to pat your shoulder. "it's all in good fun. besides, it's about time something happened between you two." you nod in agreement, smiling at her. "now, spill. how are you feeling about all of this? is he boyfriend material?"

you hesitate for a moment, contemplating your newfound dynamic with oscar. a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "yeah, maybe. we're figuring it out, i guess. it's all been... surprisingly nice."

she grins, satisfied with your response. "well, then, i'd say lando's plan was a success." she backs away, walking towards the kitchen exit. "just enjoy it, okay? and don't be too mad at us. we just wanted to see you both happy."

you nod and watch as she leaves, still processing the directed events that have led up to this moment. as you're left alone, you can't help but smile to yourself at the thought of everything that's happened – and everything that's yet to come.

suddenly, for the first time in your life, you feel thankful for something lando has done. you'll have to remember to thank him later.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 24th, 10:23pm

just a few hours ago, charles was challenged to a snowball fight with the rest of the twitch quartet. and how could he ever say no to them?

for you to fall asleep before he got back would just be stupid, because there's no way he will be able to keep quiet when he eventually he crashes into the room post-fight. so instead, you sit against the headboard of your bed, a thick blanket draped over your body and a good book in your hands as you enjoy the tranquility of the last few moments of christmas eve.

there's a soft knock on the door, one so low you could've just as well missed it. "come in," you call out, looking up from your book as the door creaks open. surprise paints your face as oscar enters the room, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of carrying out a secret mission.

in his hands, oscar holds a beautifully wrapped box, adorned with a crimson bow. "merry christmas."

"oscar, what are you up to?" you ask, laughter dancing in your eyes.

"giving you your present." he sits at your feet, holding out the present to you.

you place your book beside you on the bed, accepting the gift with a curious smile. you unwrap the present, and as you remove the lid of the box and your eyes are met with a necklace, your breath hitches in your throat.

the heart-shaped pendant is familiar – it's the exact necklace you'd eyed in the christmas market. you look up at oscar, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "i didn't forget my phone," he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. "i just really wanted to get it for you."

speechless, you delicately trace the edges of the pendant with your fingers. "oscar, i..."

"it's a christmas gift, but you can wear it whenever you want."

you hold the necklace up to him. "like now?"

he nods and takes it from you as you turn around, brushing away your hair so that he can secure the chain around your neck. when you turn back, you catch the glint of admiration in his eyes. "you look beautiful."

you hold the pendant between your thumb and pointer finger, a silent acknowledgment of the connection formed by the gift. "it's perfect, oscar. thank you." you tilt your head, smiling at him. "you're not getting your gift until tomorrow, though."

"just seeing you with this necklace is enough of a present for me. i don't need anything else."

‎‎ ‎‎‎

december 25th, 6:04pm

christmas day morning is for gift exchanges. you all sit around the tree in the living room, giving out presents and sharing the background stories behind the silly little things you've bought each other. you receive a ton of random objects that people had bought that day in the christmas market; objects they bought just to irritate you and oscar. now that you know, you find it quite funny – and seeing charles's confused face as you unwrapped a green screwdriver from lando is definitely one of your highlights of the day.

your present to oscar is, obviously, better planned than most other gifts. beneath the wrapper is a box titled "skiing survival kit" written in big, red letters. in it lies a pair of thick socks (with a note reading "to protect your feet from those horrible boots"), a bag of hot chocolate mix ("for moments when skiing feels too challenging; a little warmth to make everything better"), a bottle of peppermint-scented massaging oil ("you never know when you find yourself in need of a massage..."), and a handwritten letter about how you enjoyed your stay in the cottage much more than the actual skiing and a promise to stay in and warm his chair for him next time he's out "skiing".

then, midday rolls around. the chefs of the group, also known as the few people who don't burn everything they attempt to cook, take their time to make a good dinner. in the meantime, the rest of you prepare some games and competitions, including a trivia, a snow fort building competition, and a gingerbread house-decorating contest that ended in lando letting his competitiveness get the best of him. safe to say that no other gingerbread houses were still standing, other than lando's, meaning the brit won by default. his price: getting thrown in the snow in just his pyjamas.

and the evening? it's dedicated to a movie marathon, as per russell family traditions.

it has all been planned into the finest detail; the couch in the living room is decorated with blankets and pillows, nearly every bowl in the house is filled to the brim with snacks, and mattresses and pillows on the floor for those who don't fit on the couch. everyone was included of the vote of what movie you were going to see, though you had a feeling george had cheated when you were told the 'home alone' series won. especially since it's the one series he hasn't been able to stop talking about wanting to watch all trip.

you're settled on the edge of the couch, a blanket wrapped over your shoulders and your knees pulled up to your chest. you're laughing along with something kika has said from right next to you when you hear a beep from the kitchen, indicating that the last bag of popcorn was ready. you assumed lando would be getting up to fetch it, seeing as he was the one who insisted you needed one more bag, but when your eyes find him, he sits very contently and comfortably a few seats away. he looks back at you, eyebrows rising as you make eye contact.

"hey, you're the closest to the kitchen," he says, nodding his head in your direction. "go get them."

he isn't wrong, but he still makes no sense. "no way, norris."

he pouts. "please, be quick so we can start the movie already."

"you suck."

he sticks out his tongue at you but you've already walked off. when you return, a new bowl filled with popcorn in your arms, you aren't exactly surprised to see lando in the seat that used to be yours. you shoot him a glare, to which he answers, "i could barely see the tv from where i was sitting!"

"oh, but you think i'll be able to?" you scoff at the way he shrugs his shoulders, seemingly to say that it's now none of his business. and when you look at his old seat, you are even less surprised to see who's sitting right next to it.

oscar is looking up at you, confusion mixing into his features. he's been scrolling on his phone for the last few minutes and didn't notice when his teammate left him alone.

neither of you complain when you slip into lando's old spot, though. oscar immediately grabs the blanket in his lap and drapes it over you too. you shuffle closer to him as the movie turns on, the soft fabric of his pyjama pants brushing against yours. the bowl of popcorn is propped up on your lap, and when you reach into it to grab a handful, it touches something warm. you rip your eyes from the tv to see your hand brushing against oscar's. of course.

considering the other touches and kisses you've shared these last few days, it's not even a very intimate action. and yet, something about it leaves both of you giggling.

"so many clichés this trip, huh?" he says, eyes flickering between your hands and your face.

instead of answering, you grab his hand in yours. your fingers slip in between his easily, as they've done so many times these last few days, but you pull your hands underneath the blanket to keep them out of sight from everyone else.

it's a good movie, but it's easy for you to zone out when you feel oscar's hand squeeze yours. neither of you can really stay away from the other, inching closer as the movie progresses and stealing little cheek kisses when everyone is focused on the most exciting scenes. and when you start to grow a little tired, your head instinctively lands on his shoulder as you let out a little yawn. oscar desperately has to hold himself back from cooing at you, feeling so soft and prideful that you're leaning on him, and he settles for leaning his own head on you.

you both think you're being subtle, but everyone in the room understands what's going on. even charles, who has now been let in on what's happened between you and oscar after he walked in on lando telling alex about how cute the new couple in the house looked walking around the lake, can't take his eyes off the two of you. as your older brother, he feels like he should be doing something or saying something to protect you. he wonders what his role should be here – aren't brothers supposed to scare their sisters' boyfriends away?

but charles realizes that oscar isn't an enemy. in this moment, you look so peaceful, so content; like you've found the the long-lost puzzle piece to make you complete. how could he possibly interrupt that?

‎‎ ‎‎

december 25th, 11:28pm

charles is still fast asleep on the couch when you slip into oscar's room after the movie has ended, fingers intertwined and your laughter mixing as he pulls you along to his bed. his hands find your hips as he sits down on the edge of the bed, urging you to lower yourself onto his lap, and you happily oblige.

"look up," he says, and when you do, you're not surprised by what's hanging in the roof.

the mistletoe.

"oh," you start, looking back at him. last time you found yourself underneath the mistletoe with oscar, you had been more nervous than ever before. but this time, it isn't as scary. this time, you're able to shrug, a teasing grin forming on your lips. "i guess we should kiss, then. just for the christmas spirit, you know."

his lips are curved into a big smile. "oh, i do know." one of his hands comes up to tuck some hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in his palm. "it's because you love christmas."

you can't hold back from giggling, and neither can he, both of you leaning in to seal your lips. your first encounter underneath the mistletoe was hesitant, but it feels like that was ages ago, in another lifetime. now, with his lips pressing against yours, it feels like it's all you've known.

he's so gentle with it, his kisses delicate and tender, and your heart flutters at the feeling. his hands land on your waist as your arms wrap around his neck, scooting in even closer. when your crotch brushes against him, he involuntarily lets out a moan into your mouth, and you stop for a moment to pull away. both your eyes and his are wide as you look at each other, and oscar doesn't know what to say. his mind is racing, not sure if you thought that was awkward or too soon or-

"that's so fucking hot," you say, and he finally exhales. you kiss him again, speaking against his lips. "wanna hear more."

he has no problems letting out more sounds when you keep up your actions, your hips rolling down on him rhythmically. his hands find the hem of your sweater and slip inside, instantly roaming your sides. his cold touch tickles, and when his fingers move along your waist, you can't help but giggle against his lips. he laughs along with you, but he only does it to match you. he's dumbfounded when you part from him and you grab his wrists to make him halt.

"you're too cold," you start, a bit breathless already. "it's-"

"are you really that ticklish?" he chuckles, fingers running up and down your sides again to test you, and his heart melts when you throw your head back, laughing. "oh come on, how am i supposed to do this if i can't touch you?"

"warm your fingers next time and we should be fine."

"next time, huh?" a combination of a smirk and a grin plays on his lips. "planning ahead?"

"well, it depends on how well you perform tonight." he sticks out his tongue at your taunting tone. "just take it off already, will you?"

oscar happily obliges, pulling the material off you before reaching for his own sweater, throwing them both onto the floor. his eyes stick to your chest, to the soft, red bed bra holding up your breasts, and he feels himself growing harder instantly, because this is so much better than he'd imagined. you can't exactly complain about what your eyes are met with, either; oscar's toned chest and his broad shoulders are basically calling out for you to come and press your lips to them. or sink your teeth in them. probably both.

he gives you a few quick kisses before his hands land on your hips and he flips you both around, laying you onto the covers. his lips meet the skin below your ear, and then travel down the side of your neck. he hears your breath hitch in your throat when he finds a spot you enjoy particularly much, making sure to memorize it for the future. and when his kisses trail even further down, they meet something hard and metallic. when he leans back, he realizes that you're wearing the necklace.

he didn't notice it until now, since he was too busy being mesmerized by your breasts earlier; but now, he can't take his eyes off it. the little heart charm rests just above your actual heart, and something about seeing it makes his heart flutter. the necklace he bought for you, the one that makes you think of him and only him. it's like you're already tagged as his.

"cute," he whispers to himself, placing a long kiss right on top of the heart. he can feel your real heart beating underneath his lips, fast but not really enough, and he can't wait to make you feel like it's pounding out of your chest.

he starts placing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, his hands finding the waistband of your sweatpants.

"you okay with me taking these off?" he asks, parting from your skin to watch you nod your head. he pulls the material down your body, smiling when your underwear comes into sight. they're not a pair of lacy lingerie or victoria's secret-lookalikes, but just a regular pair of panties in a deep green color with little candy canes. his eyes flicker between your bra and your panties. "green and red, huh?"

"well, what can i say?" you smile. "i love christmas." he giggles, and so do you, as he leaves your pants somewhere on the floor before moving further down your body. when his hands near the fuzzy socks with little cartoon santas dressing your feet, you're quick to speak. "those stay on, though."

"oh, is that so?"

"gotta make sure you're not just doing this for that foot fetish you might or might not have." a laughter erupts from his chest. "i've had too much of that recently."

"well, i don't have one, so i don't mind you keeping them on." he moves up on the bed again, fingers reaching the hem of your underwear. "but i can take these off, right?"

"things would get kinda tricky otherwise, i'd say,” you tease, but oscar merely blinks up at you with raised eyebrows.

"tricky, yes. but not impossible."

you shake your head, a grin making its way onto your lips. "next time, oscar."

and there it is again. next time. the way you say it so casually, like there's no doubt in your mind that there will be another time, that you'll do all of this again.

yet again, instant boner.

your panties are off in a second, and he doesn't waste any time before pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. his hand takes care of your other thigh, thumb brushing up and down your skin, as your lips travel closer and closer to where you want him the most.

you suck in a breath when you feel his warm breath against your core. his tongue meets your clit and your eyes flutter closed, one of your hands reaching down to entangle in his hair. as his tongue draws circles around your bud, one of his hands leaves your thigh, a finger swiping along your wet folds before pushing slowly into you. you don't know which sensation to focus on, both growing stronger and pushing you closer to your limit every passing second. when he's pumped you a couple of times, he adds another finger and then another, pushing deep into you. his fingers curling inside of you makes you pull on his hair even harder, your mind growing hazy and your breaths shorter.

"o-oscar," you let out, subconsciously buckling your hips towards him in hopes of creating more friction. "i'm so clos-"

you're cut off by the combination of a moan and a whine that leaves your lips when his tongue flicking your clit speeds up. "come for me, sweetheart," he tells you, his voice sending vibrations against your core.

your legs shake around him as you completely let go, feeling the climax wash over you just moments after his order. your free arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes in your arm as you try to catch your breath. oscar continues lapping you up, helping you ride it out, also licking his fingers clean before letting his hands caress your sides soothingly. he's unsure whether his fingers are warm enough now to not tickle you, or if you're just too busy coming down from your high to even realize you should feel ticklish, but he smiles at the thought nonetheless.

"everything alright up here?" oscar asks as he moves up to your face again, one of his hands prying the arm off your face. you slowly open your eyes, your hazy gaze meeting his loving one and you can't help but to cup his face in your hands. you pull him down to your lips, lazily lacing them together. he pulls away just enough for his lips to still brush yours when he speaks. "i'll take that as a yes."

you're quick to nod, but even quicker to connect his lips with yours again, not wanting to be apart for even a second.

your hands slide down his neck and the front of his body, loving the feeling of his strong muscles under your touch. your fingers reach down to the edge of his pajama pants, and you let out a chuckle when you notice the ever-growing tent in them. "don't laugh at me," he starts, biting down on your bottom lip as a warning. "you're so hot, how could i not get this hard?"

"oh, shut it," you say, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. "just take them off, will you?"

"as you wish."

as he shuffles off the bed and pulls off his own pants, plus his boxers along with them, you take the time to reach behind you and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms and off the bed. when he reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a condom, you raise your eyebrows. "oh, so you were planning this?"

he shakes his head as he climbs on top of you again. "i was hoping, not expecting. those are two very different things." he removes the wrapper and throws it onto the table, rolling the condom onto himself. "do you need anything? or-"

"just you."

oscar presses his smile to yours, kissing you like he has no rush in the world, like he just wants to savor this moment with you. "well then," he says against your lips, nudging his dick against your entrance. "i have to give the lady what she wants, don't i?"

you can't control the whine that slips into his mouth when he pushes into you. you thought you were ready for him, but he's so big and he stretches you out so perfectly. he pauses once he's slipped entirely into you, his lips finding a spot below your ear as he allows you to get used to him. your pussy is throbbing already, still sensitive from just minutes ago, and the little involuntary clenches around him make oscar grow more and more eager.

when he finally starts moving, you drape your arms around his shoulders for stability. his thrusts are slow but deep, and yet you desperately want more of him. you hook a leg over his hip, the other following soon after, and you gasp at the way he bottoms you out completely. one of his hands comes up to squeeze your breast, thumb flicking over the nipple as his pace speeds up. the sounds you make and the way your legs squeeze him close makes him feel like he could cum anytime, but he tries to hold back because he needs to see you fall apart beneath him for the second time tonight.

"oscar..." you cry out when his free hand slides down your body, a finger coming in contact with your clit again.

"just a little more, love." his thrusts have grown sloppy and his figures on your bud aren't exactly perfect, but it's good enough for your orgasm to hit.

your back arches off the bed, your chest pressing into his as you nuzzle your face into the side of his neck to hide your moans. when your walls tighten around him, he reaches his high too, his body shaking as he rides it out. your heart is about ready to jump out of your chest when he collapses onto you, both of you trying to catch your breaths. "holy fuck," oscar starts, his breath warm on your skin. "that was amazing. you feel amazing." you try to gather energy to speak, fingers getting lost in his curls. "you taste amazing, too. better than any christmas dinner."

you give him a weak slap to his shoulder. "shush."

"it's true!" he pushes himself back a bit, mouth hanging in mock offense. "this was the best present i could've ever wished for."

"the necklace is higher on my list, though."

oscar pauses for a moment. "i'm not sure if i should feel proud or offended."

you snicker. "i was hoping for the latter," you tease, but regret it the moment oscar's hands find your waist, fingers dancing along it and tickling you yet again. the squeal you let out does nothing to halt his actions, and he doesn't even budge when you try to push him away by his shoulders. "i was kidding!"

"apologize. now."

his fingers still working their way on your skin make it almost impossible for you to speak again, but you do your best to take a deep breath. "i'm- i'm sorry! oscar- stop it!"

he finally stops, and you finally get to breathe. "i'll go get a wet towel," oscar says, pulling away from you and giving you one last glance. he almost doesn't leave the bed when he looks at you, though – he finds the sight almost too good to be true. your rosy cheeks, the dreamy smile on your lips, your hair spread out on the pillows. he's scared that if he leaves you, maybe the spell will be broken and he'll realize all of this has just been a dream. because that's just how this all feels: surreal.

but it is real, and he can't wait to have you like this in his bed again.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 26th, 12:56pm

packing up after a good trip is always a bittersweet affair. realizing that you have the real world waiting for you, your actual lives with responsibilities and obligations, and that you can't just stay in this fairytale forever – this moment was definitely not something you looked forward to.

you and charles need to get back to monaco to celebrate christmas with your other brothers and your mother, before he needs to go away for pre-season work again. you're meticulously folding up your clothes, zipping up bags and exchanging smiles as you reminisce on memories of the week.

but, things are different this time. you know that the magic of this trip isn't going to stay here – in one way or another, you'll bring some of it with you back to your real life.

oscar.

you've already made plans to meet up after new years, and even when he's busy with work, you know that you'll at least see him during every race weekend. neither of you are ever more than a flight, or a call, away, and you just can't wait to see where this all takes you.

"so... oscar, huh?" charles's voice breaks the silence, his eyes glancing in the direction of your open door that lets in the sound of oscar's voice from the living room.

"hm? what about him?" you reply, trying to hold back the smile threatening to adorn your lips when you hear his name.

charles cocks an eyebrow at you. "you and him... kind of obvious." he gazes towards your bed. "besides, your bed is made. you didn't sleep here last night."

"well, i-" you start, but charles interrupts with a knowing chuckle.

"relax, i'm not going to be a police. just..." he shows off a sweet smile. "enjoy it."

with a nod and a shared understanding, you both continue packing, an unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air. the group gathers to bid you farewell by the front door, and gratitude fills your heart as you exchange goodbyes with your friends. you grow especially soft when lando pulls you into a hug, a cheeky grin on his lips. "thank you," you whisper, giving his cheek a quick peck to really convey how much you appreciate everything he's done this holiday. he just squeezes you back, telling you not to worry about it.

finally, as you turn to say your farewell to oscar, the atmosphere shifts and the group watches with amused anticipation. "until next time," you say, your eyes holding a promise that transcends the physical distance.

"until next time," he repeats, smiling as you engulf him in a tight hug.

you pull away just enough for your ear to brush against his ear, your voice low. "charles knows, by the way."

"w-what?" his eyes widen for a moment, flickering between you and your brother – but then realization dawns. "well, in that case..."

before you can react, oscar pulls you closer again. he presses a goodbye-kiss on your lips, right there in front of everyone, and the group erupts into cheers.

and the loudest of them all? lando, of course. "if i'm not the best man at your wedding, i'll never forgive you guys."

2K notes · View notes

vinylmango · 5 months ago

Text

On our own terms

Nicholas Alexander Chavez x black!famous!reader

Description: When the paparazzi images of Nicholas out with a “mystery girl” go viral OR a continuation of part two.

Warnings: not really

Note: the last part will be published tomorrow morning! (my timezone is EST)

Parts: one two THREE four five

masterlist

———

celebriteagossip

Tagged: nicholasalexanderchavez & (y/n)

Liked by nicchavezismine, no1nacsupporter, and 16,452 others

celebriteagossip Some pictures have been sent to us of actor Nicholas Alexander Chavez out with a mystery girl while on vacation. The actor was spotted in Italy with a group of friends including the mystery girl this past month. The theory is that the woman is (y/n). This comes after the actor wrapped filming of his upcoming Netflix drama. Chavez posted about the Italy trip on his Instagram confirming he was there and so did (y/n). More to come as we uncover who the mystery woman is, but all we know is that she is one lucky lady!

user1 this is such an invasion of privacy

user2 he’s going to stop posting if this doesn’t stop. Can’t he just enjoy life and post about his gf when he’s ready?

nicchavezismine he’s so hot 😩😩😩

user3 I wonder how long they’ve been together for, they seem really comfortable together.

no1nacsupporter that definitely looks like (y/n)! I know they have mutual friends but I didn’t think they were together. Either way you shouldn’t post this kind of stuff about him, he’s obviously very private for a reason.

user4 oh yeah! Wasn’t (y/n) in Italy around the same time?

ilovecooper maybe the girl is friends with (y/n) and sof? Nicholas was part of a big group with Cooper Koch, some GH people, and a couple other random celebrities. Maybe they’re mutual friends?

View more comments…

(Y/n)ismother

Tagged: (y/n)

Liked by (y/n), (y/n)loml, aestheticblackgirls, and 700 others

(Y/n)ismother How is she real?? Every second she breathes she just reaffirms why she is mother. And if she is dating Nicholas Chavez good for them, he better treat her like the queen she is or we ride at dawn…and that goes for whoever that guy she started posting on her insta is whether it’s Nicholas or not.

(Y/n) you are so sweet omg 🫶🏽 thank you for hyping me up love

> (y/n)ismother OMG THANK YOU! You’re such a good role model for young black and brown girls 🫶🏽

User1 HOLY SHIT SHE LIKED AND COMMENTED

User2 her body is so tea. That’s what happens when you’re unproblematic and just a good person.

User3 let’s be real. Can Nicholas Chavez even handle all that?…like sir she is a goddess.

nicchavezismine he’s so much hotter than her omg

> user1 girl be so fr rn

> user2 why are you even here leaving hate when this is a page only about y/n?

> user3 real weirdo behavior 😒

> user1 and their face cards are an equal slay…obviously exponentially better than yours tho <3

(y/n)loml she is literally an angel it’s unreal

View more comments…

deuxmoi

Tagged: nicholasalexanderchavez & (y/n)

Liked by (y/n)ismother, no1nacsupporter, and 50,000 others

deuxmoi Thanks to some eagle eyed fans we are able to confirm that Nicholas Chavez and (y/n) were in Italy together. It’s unclear if they went together as a couple or just met while there. We don’t know how long they’ve been together, but keep sending in info. They are one good looking couple!

(y/n)ismother who keeps sending this stuff in?! (Y/n) is notoriously private when it comes to who she’s dating and what she puts out surrounding that. I don’t know much about Nicholas, but I can assume he’s the same way. This is so disrespectful to them! They’re people too!

user1 how do you even get that close to them without being some weirdo stalker?!

user2 they are really hot but this is such an invasion of privacy. Please just leave them be.

nicchavezismine ewww get off of him! She looks like such a slut. Who lays like that on the beach?!

> (y /n)ismother Your mother. Hope this helps 😊

user3 they look so comfortable together. I wonder how long they’ve been together

View more comments…

(y/n)

Tagged: nicholasalexanderchavez

Liked by ryandestiny, chloesevigny, (y/n)loml, and 2,123,326 others

(Y/n) Booo the internet is so lame 😒 ANYWAYS happy national boyfriend day to my best friend, travel buddy, and love of my life 🩷 I love you 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

user1 someone check on that hater account nicchavezismine lol although now he never will be 😘

> nicchavezismine never say never 🥰

>> user1 weirdo

user2 parents

user3 FINALLY

nicholasalexanderchavez i love you baby

Liked by (y/n)

nicholasalexanderchavez my gf is HOT HOT HOT 🥵🔥🙂‍↕️

> (y/n) ahh 🤭🥰🫣

>> user8 me too girl

nicholasalexanderchavez rip to (y/n)loml now I can just do it on main

> user4 (y/n)loml WAS YOU?! OMG

> user5 I hope one day I will experience love like this

sofcruz CUTIES 🥰

> user6 ngl I thought he was dating Sof for a sec

> nicholasalexanderchavez no 😟

> sofcruz 😟😵‍💫🤢 no offense btw but im strictly for my bf 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

>> user7 OOO WHO?

nicholasalexanderchavez

Tagged (y/n)

Liked by javierbardem, sofcruz, lexiloo6, and 1,765,432 others

nicholasalexanderchavez i would’ve rather said it myself instead of random insta pages…but i love you i love you i love you i love you

(Y/n) my man my man my man 🥵💗

Liked by nicholasalexanderchavez

user7 what a time to be alive 🙌🙏

cooperkoch finally I was scared I was going to be the one to accidentally say something 😅

> tomholland2013 no mate that probably would’ve been me 😂

> user1 LOL Tom 😭

user2 so when’s the wedding

user3 forget the wedding for a sec we want a tell all. Tell us the meet cute plsssss 🥺

> user4 I like the way you think

> (y/n)ismother yes pls

no1nacsupporter I’m so happy for them they look so happy and good together 😭

nicholasgalitzine yay! now everyone can see how sappy the two of you are 🤢🥴 lol jk I’m happy for you

> user5 lol are they cringy?

> nicholasalexanderchavez we aren’t sappy

> nicholasgalitzine 🤨

> nicholasalexanderchavez ok fine maybe a little

> (y/n) you love us tho

> nicholasgalitzine unfortunately true 😪😖

> sofcruz weren’t you the one to introduce them in the first place

> nicholasgalitzine I am 2/2 now 😤. Call me a matchmaker ig

>> user6 who’s the other couple? 👀 you can’t just say that and not tell us

taglist: [comment or dm to be added!]

@hockeyboysarehot @jukeboxsweethearttt

#nicholas alexander chavez #black!reader #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez x black reader #vinylmango #on our own terms smau #nicholas chavez x poc reader #nicholas chavez imagine

338 notes · View notes

captain-bubble-wrap · 11 days ago

Text

Warnings | none

Word count | 5.1k

Summary | 6 years is a long time to go without talking to someone after they hung up on you. What do you do when that person messages you out of the blue?

Tagged cuties | @quinnsbabygirl @quinnhughesandqenthusiast @ruinix

- - -

"You just don't understand it, Quinn!"

"I don't? Really? Maybe you don't understand how it works! You don't own me, you know."

"I'm not trying to, but you keep playing with me!"

You were pacing around your dorm room, phone against your ear, deep in an argument with Quinn. He was less than four months into his rookie NHL season and you were starting another year at Michigan. Things had been rough between the two of you since he had left, but now it was so much worse. Talking to him was impossible, or rather, getting him to talk to you was impossible. He rarely texted your first, and if he did, it was to tell you that he was going on the road and just wouldn't want to be on his phone.

Trying to be in his life as much as he'd let you, you tried to watch as many games as you could while balancing class and work. Tonight, Vancouver had lost to the Lightning 9-2 in Tampa and you had just called to be there for him, and it had been a fight since he answered.

"Playing with you?" He scoffed. "You don't let me breathe, Y|N! You don't trust me! I can't do this anymore. I'm over it!"

You rolled your eyes, mouth open to interject just as soon as he was done. "Why would I trust you? You keep me shut out all the time! You have no idea how shitty you are in a relationship, Quinn. Go run around with the rest of your little fan club. Find one of them to screw around with! Don't call me--"

"Hadn't planned on it," Quinn said, interrupting you before ending the call.

That had been almost six years ago.

Quinn was enjoying some time off, down in Florida, around the holidays, trying to get over a hand injury that had been plaguing him for some time. It was late in the evening when he found himself alone in the hot tub, making sure he didn't drop his phone in the steaming water while he scrolled through his Instagram. He had connected with a girl based in Vancouver a few weeks ago and was about to DM her when something else caught his eye. Someone he hadn't thought about in years; someone he hadn't realized he was even still following.

The two of you had met in college; Quinn having enrolled the year prior. You were on the university's Equestrian Team, but it had been your shared Literature class that had brought you two together. You knew nothing about hockey, but Quinn had been more than willing to explain it to you, when you learned he was a star on the team. Everything had been so fun when you were together. However, that fun soon ran out when he left the States for Vancouver. Twenty-five hundred miles apart had been the biggest strain on your relationship, but the time difference, the unknowing, and the mistrust on your part had been the final nails in the coffin.

You had been nineteen, and he was twenty. Neither of you had any business in a long-distance relationship, let alone any kind of relationship built on a fast-paced attraction and no emotional foundation. However, you had taken everything he had done personally, as he had been only the second guy you had ever dated. You just didn't know what you were doing. That was something that you had realized much later in life, and you'd be lying if you hadn't wanted to reconnect with him, if just to apologize, but too much had happened, and you felt it was too late. His posts on Instagram still dinged in on your phone and you would view them when you were curious enough, but often times you'd just clear the notifications. Those days, between the two of you, had been so long ago, and you feared he didn't remember you anyways except for maybe a black spot in his memory.

Your hockey-watching days had come to and end when your relationship had bit the bullet, but you had heard from mutual friends, who remembered Quinn and who were avid sports watchers, that he had made some significant strides in his career with the Canucks. You were happy for him, sure, but the constant reminder of you having been with him had hurt too much and you wondered if it would just be easier to unfollow him. However, you never did. It wasn't like he posted that often, anyways.

It was nearing eleven in the evening outside St. Augustine, Florida. You were getting buckets ready for the morning's feedings when you phone pinged. Anytime your phone went off that late you always made sure to check it. Your parents always told you that calls after hours were never good news. Though, when you turned on the screen, you weren't expecting to see that notification.

Who had sent you a message? Did that say Quinn Hughes had sent you a message? The message read almost like spam, but the account was verified. So, if it was really him, then why? You hadn't spoken since the breakup. In fact, the last message had been from 2019...

Quinn Hughes: Hey, Y|N. I don't know if you even want to hear from me. I thought I might see how you were doing. I hope you're well. It would be nice to hear from you. (11:11pm)

You were in shock. Quinn, after all of these years, had actually reached out? Again, you wondered, why? He had all of these years and now, of all times? You thought on it for a minute, and the only conclusion you could come to was that he was looking for someone else and noticed you were still on his list. There was no other reason for him to notice you. Sure, your Insta account was active, you had a decent following, but you weren't being sought after by any professional athletes, by any means.

Quinn, on the other hand, while he waited for you to reply, if even at all, decided to return to your photos, and pick up where he had left off. He saw your two new horses, your sponsorship with Nikovian, the purchase of the barn in St. Augustine, but what stopped him from scrolling was the gold medal you had won at the Paris Olympics last summer. He remembered going to a couple of your shows back in college, but had no idea what was going on other than you were jumping things against a stopwatch. He found himself smiling at your picture without meaning to. He was taken aback by how much had changed since the two of you had been together. He couldn't get over the massive advancements to both of your lives: he was the captain of the Canucks, and you were a gold medal Olympian.

Twenty minutes you'd leave Quinn on read before you managed to figure out what you wanted to say to him. There had been so much you had wanted to say in the past that no longer carried the same weight as it did now.

Y|N: Well, yours was definitely the last name I expected to see flash up in my notifications. (11:35pm)

Quinn Hughes: I wasn't expecting to see yours either. I figured you had blocked me. (11:36pm)

Y|N: No, I never thought about blocking you. Deleting you, sure, but even then, I didn't do it. (11:40pm)

Quinn Hughes: Well, that's good. :) (11:42pm)

What was he doing? How were you supposed to respond to what he was saying -- how he was coming off? You wanted to be bubbly and excited to talk to Quinn, but considering that the last time that you talked to him had been when he had hung up on you, it was still hard to completely let that bit go. He seemed different, however, and how would he not be? It had been years; both of you surely had changed in big ways since that argument. The thing was, was that he had hurt you -- hurt you deeper than anyone else ever had. Not to mention he had never apologized. You knew you weren't blameless either. You hadn't reached out to him at any point in time to make amends, but you never disagreed that you weren't stubborn.

Y|N: Sorry-- I really don't know what to say. (11:45pm)

Quinn Hughes: It's alright. Honestly, the fact that you replied at all means a lot. :) (11:46pm)

You weren't oblivious, you could tell how quickly he responded to you -- the eagerness. You wondered if he was laying in bed, just watching his phone for your reply, wondering if you were doing the same. There were still horse chores to be done but every time that Instagram notification went off, you checked your phone. You felt like that little nineteen-year-old again which scared you slightly.

Quinn Hughes: Hey, I just noticed the time, I'm sorry if I'm keeping you up. (11:48pm)

Y|N: Just getting feed buckets ready for the morning, you're fine. (11:55pm)

Quinn Hughes: You're still working? It's midnight! :0 (11:58pm)

Y|N: I have almost 20 horses boarded here, so it keeps me busy. I don't always work this late but my lessons ran long this afternoon. (12:01am)

You found yourself in the tack room, laying on your back on the leather sofa. There was no denying that you were tired, but Quinn had you curious -- too curious to just end the conversation and go to bed.

Quinn Hughes: Wow, 20!? That's incredible! Knowing you, I'm sure the place looks like a magazine. ;) (12:02am)

Y|N, Ha, you're not wrong. I'd say you're welcome to come visit, but Vancouver is a bit of a trip. (12:03am)

Deciding to take a risk with the open door invitation, you noticed how fast your heart had started to beat. The instant regret ramped up when the notification that Quinn was typing -- making you quickly turn off your phone's screen to avoid him getting the "read" alert as soon as it delivered.

Quinn Hughes: I'm actually not too far away. Spending a little more time down home while I deal with something. (12:03am)

Y|N: Are you alright? (12:04am)

You couldn't help yourself feeling some sort of way about him, or about asking if he was okay given how he had worded his last statement. Self-control was becoming a slippery slope.

Quinn Hughes: Yeah, for the most part. Just a tendon issue. (12:05am)

Y|N: "Just" a tendon issue? (12:05am)

Quinn Hughes: Haha, fair point. I'm listed week-to-week at the moment. It's been bothering me for some time, but lately it's gotten worse. Just trying to give me some down time to get right before the 4 Nations in February. (12:07am)

Y|N: Hockey players with hand issues doesn't sound ideal! (12:08am)

Quinn Hughes: I would assume like a horse with a foot problem, lol. ;) What's the phrase you always said? (12:10am)

Y|N: No hoof, no horse? (12:10am)

Quinn Hughes: Yeah, lol. (12:10am)

You couldn't contain your smiles. How had him remembering the stupidest little thing bring a wave of emotion over you? Falling into a spiral of what-ifs, Quinn would double-text you which would snap you out of your delusional headspace.

Quinn Hughes: Would you really want to meet up? It's been a long time. Not sure if you were being serious or just said that to be nice. (12:18am)

It had now been over an hour since Quinn had messaged you for the first time in years, but it had felt like just ten minutes had passed -- somehow those six years felt like it had only been a week ago. The Quinn Hughes whirlwind was insane.

Y|N: Yeah, I meant what I said. If you want to come by, I'd love to show you around. (12:19am)

How long had it been since you used the word "love" and "you" in the same message sent to Quinn? It felt both foreign and familiar -- the warning lights were flashing behind your eyes, but the alarms were muted.

Quinn Hughes: Are you busy tomorrow? (12:21am)

Y|N: Tomorrow as in this morning, or actually tomorrow-tomorrow? (12:21am)

Quinn Hughes: Oh, lmao, right! ;) Tomorrow as in this morning. (12:22am)

Y|N: I'm always "busy" but I can make time for you. (12:23am)

Your throat tightened after hitting send on that message. You wanted to kick yourself in the ass for coming off like there wasn't any bad blood between you. Not that it was anything terrible, and you had grown since that moment, but that didn't mean you were still hopeful to talk to him about it -- clear the air.

Quinn Hughes: What time works for you? (12:23am)

Y|N: Whenever, really. I'll be here all day. (12:24am)

Quinn Hughes: Alright, well, I'll let you get your stuff done and I'll get with you in the morning for directions? :) (12:26am)

Y|N: Work for me~ (12:26am)

Quinn Hughes: Have a good night. :) It was nice to talk to you. (12:28am)

Y|N: You too, Quinn~ <3 (12:28)

By the end of the conversation, you felt like you were floating above the cushions of the sofa. Had you really made plans to see Quinn in the morning? For a fleeting second you wondered what the hell was wrong with you. You wondered what morning-you was going to think about your decision...

- - -

Sunrise had come too early. Your late-night chat with Quinn, and feed-prep had cut into your sleep, and you could feel the repercussions that morning. Regardless of how you felt, you had a job to do and a guest due in in a few hours. Hopefully that wouldn't turn into a mistake.

Just like he had said, Quinn texted you for the directions, at a much more reasonable time than he had yesterday.

Quinn Hughes: Morning. :) (8:04am)

Y|N: It's definitely morning, yep. (8:15am)

Quinn Hughes: Did I wake you up? (8:17am)

Y|N: No, I've been up since 5:30... (8:21am)

Quinn Hughes: I shouldn't have keep messaging you last night. I'm sorry. (8:23am)

"You'll apologize about that...really?" You thought to yourself.

Y|N: You're good. I could have just stopped messaging~ (8:24am)

Quinn Hughes: Fair point! (8:29am)

Y|N: Before I get too busy, here's the directions and the passcode for the gate. (8:31am)

Quinn Hughes: Gated, huh? LOL Thanks, I'll see you in a couple hours then. (8:36am)

Y|N: Be careful (8:39am)

Quinn Hughes: :) (8:40am)

- - -

Those two hours had come a lot quicker than you thought they would have. No sooner had you DM'd Quinn for the last time, your first lesson of the day arrived, and they were late. They were supposed to have been there at nine, but hadn't show up till closer to ten. Thankfully, it wouldn't affect your afternoon timeslots, but it was going to put you still teaching when Quinn arrived. Just one of those things that couldn't be avoided.

After imputing the code into the terminal, Quinn drove up the long, shaded lane until the property opened up to him. It was expansive, with numerous green pastures, white rolling fences, and several outlying buildings. Everything was perfectly manicured and matched from one side of the property to the other. Every building was the same shade of paint, the same style of doors, and even the landscaping. It was like a real-life drag-and-drop tool had been used. He had been right: it was straight out of a magazine.

Unsure of where to park --as he hadn't thought to ask about it-- Quinn pulled up to the house and got out. He was met with something that took him back several years: the sweet smell of fresh alfalfa, and the indescribable smell of horses. It was your place, for sure.

With hands in the pockets of his joggers, Quinn decided to wander towards the larger of the barns he could see on the property. Horses in the outside turnouts knickered and trotted up to meet him along the fences as he went past. They made him smile as he petted the noses of the ones who had been curious enough to see if he had any treats or not.

"Do you have a lesson?" Asked a little voice, pulling him from the moment with the animal. She couldn't have been much older than ten and looked at him with narrowed eyes, her hands on her hips.

"I, uh...no, I don't," Quinn replied, not sure how to approach the situation, resigning his hands back to his pockets as the horse nudged his shoulder.

"Well, you shouldn't pet horses that aren't yours! You don't know how to do it right! You'll get bit!"

"Emily, that's rude. You need to apologize," said the girl's father, deeply embarrassed by his daughter's outburst. "I'm so sorry about that."

Quinn laughed softly, "It's alright. Hey, actually could you tell me where Y|N might be?"

The little girl continued to side-eye Quinn harshly. "Are you her boyfriend or something?"

"Emily," the father said, unable to refrain from rolling his eyes at his daughter's possessive attitude. "Drop it, please."

Smirking, Quinn looked down at the grass for a moment before returning them to her disapproving features, "I used to be."

"You better not have been mean to her. I'll beat you up! Miss Y|N is the best!" She balled her right hand into a tiny fist before her father took her by the arm.

"That's enough! You do not threaten anyone for any reason. Do you understand me?"

"But--"

"Do you-- understand me?"

She gave a silent nod, still eyeing Quinn suspiciously while her father confessed his deepest apologies to him, expressing that he wasn't sure what had gotten into his daughter.

"This is a first. Please, forgive us. Um, I'm sure Y|N is still in the upper arena. Just follow that path there, and you can't miss it. Again, I'm very sorry about all of this."

Quinn had to contain his want to laugh, as the father and daughter returned to their SUV, the child looking over her shoulder at Quinn one more time. If looks could have killed... With the vague directions, he followed the paved, concrete path to the east and towards a very large building. He had to decide which door to take, and hope it would be the right one and not one that would put him face to face with a twelve-hundred-pound animal that wasn't expecting him to be there. Thankfully, he had guessed the correct one, and it would open up into a posh viewing area behind glass with numerous matching leather armchairs. Quinn thought to himself about how grand this whole property was and that he wondered if he should have dressed a little nicer.

The other people in the seating area gave him similar looks like the little girl from earlier. He, however, found himself locked onto you as you rode around the arena with the girl involved in the lesson. You looked like you had in your Instagram photos, but nothing had prepared him for how you looked in person. He couldn't even remember the last time he had been next to you, but there you were. His smile deepened when you came closer to the glass, but you didn't notice him. Quinn assumed it had two-way effect which allowed parents to see their kids, but the rider or the horse would be none the wiser to the distractions on the other side.

"Do you need help with anything?" Questioned one of the women in the room once Quinn sat down. "You don't look like anyone we've seen here before. How did you get in?" Her tone was of fake interest and niceness as was her smile.

"Just waiting on Y|N," he said softly, returning his attention to you. "I have the code for the front gate." He would miss the woman looking down her nose at his two-day scruff, wild curls protruding from his hat, and the relaxed look of his clothes. He didn't fit the aesthetic of the holier-than-thou equestrian elite and he didn't care. He was there for you and that was it.

The woman and her friend would leave before the lesson had come to an end, finally letting Quinn breath a sigh of deep relief. It was like the whole room had warmed ten degrees and the air didn't feel as heavy.

Eventually both horses exited the arena, leaving Quinn unsure of what to do now. He grabbed his phone and shot you a DM, hoping you would be around your phone before too long.

Quinn Hughes: Hey, I'm here. I'm in some kind of sitting room in the arena. In case a certain blonde tells you I'm here, I'm not looking to rob the place. :( (11:04am)

It would be fifteen minutes before you saw his message.

"Oh shit!" You muttered to yourself, checking your phone after getting the lesson horse returned to its stall. Without replying, you'd rush off towards the large building, stopping to collect yourself before you opened the doors.

"Hey--," you said, seeing him turn to face you. "I'm sorry you had to wait on me."

He stood up, already with a smile on his full lips. You didn't really expect him to look a certain way; you hadn't stalked his account like he had yours. You just hadn't had the time that morning to prepare yourself, but you weren't disappointed. His style was a stark contrast against your polished riding clothes, but you didn't care. He looked so comfortable and you were jealous. There was nothing comfortable about English riding gear. Everything was tight against the skin, restrictive, and painfully hot in the Florida heat.

"It's alright, I knew you were busy. You look--," he stumbled over his words. "It's great to see you."

Unable to keep yourself from smiling, you returned the warm greeting, "It's been a minute."

- - -

"Do you still have Tater?" Quinn asked as the two of you walked slowly through the stable.

You hadn't expected him to remember, "Oh! Tater Tot? Yeah, I still have him! I think he's turned out right now. C'mon, let's see if he's out here."

Leading Quinn through one of the side doors, he'd linger behind you for a moment before returning to your side. He couldn't help admiring the view, but didn't want to come off like a creep. It was hard for him to come to terms that all of this was actually happening.

"I'm shocked you remember Tater," you added, leaning against the white fence rails after whistling for the horse's attention. It wouldn't take long for the bay horse to come trotting from the back corner of the turnout.

Quinn laughed softly to himself, "Hard to forget being bitten."

"Oh, pfft, he got more of your hoodie than actually of you! I told you not to put those treats in your pocket."

"I didn't want to hold them, though," he smirked, reliving the full memory in vivid detail. "Think he'll remember me?"

"They don't forget, just hold out your hand."

Quinn gave you a look of disapproval before it melted to a shit-eating grin, "I'm dealing with enough hand issues at the moment."

"He's not going to bite you!"

Tater stopped just short of you, obviously looking for a reward for having been pulled away from his grazing. He towered over the both of you, and Quinn seemed reluctant to approach given his past with the animal.

"You said that the first time, too!"

Looking over, you'd laugh, because Quinn looked like a little kid scared to get any closer for fear of being eaten. You'd back off the rails and take him by the arm. The eye contact between the both of you, following the physical contact, left you both blushing. Quinn would extend his arm out on his own, but your hand wouldn't drop away from his body till the horse moved forward. You should have been enjoying the sweet moment, but all you were doing was internally chiding yourself for having been so upfront and touchy. He didn't seem bothered by anything, but you were for the both of you.

Once the horse was dissatisfied that he wasn't getting anything extra, he turned away and left Quinn and yourself alone in the awkwardness.

"See, I told you that you'd fine," you forced yourself to say, watching Tater walk away instead of making eye contact with Quinn for the time being.

He chuckled, putting his hands back in his pockets, "How long do you have until your next lesson?"

You'd have to look at your phone for the time. How had nearly two hours gone by already? "Oh shoot, um-- looks like I have a half-an-hour."

"That flew, huh?"

"Yeah..."

Quinn paused for a moment, trying to find the right thing to say, "Well, thanks for letting me come by. It was great to see you, Y|N."

"Are you leaving?" You were shocked to hear him saying his goodbyes so soon. "Did I say something wrong?"

"What? No, no! I just thought you'd want me out of your hair so you could get to work."

You looked away, feeling torn between two options, "You're welcome to hang around, Quinn, unless you have other places to be."

"Are you sure? I don't want to be in your way."

Shaking your head, you'd reassure him that you didn't mind if he hung around. He was welcome to stay out in the barn, the house, or just wander the grounds. He seemed happy to be told that he didn't need to turn around and head back to the lake house so quickly. Honestly, you didn't want to him leave so soon either -- not since this was the first time you had seen him in nearly six years. However, you couldn't let yourself be too excited. You still needed to talk to him.

- - -

The rest of the day seemed to fly by. Your afternoon lessons had been on time and went off without a hitch, and after the way the morning had gone, you were thankful. Quinn, funny enough, had spent the majority of your teaching time in your living room, asleep on the couch. You were so envious of the fact that he got a nap, considering it had been his late-night messages that had kept you from getting much sleep at all. Again, five a.m. had come quickly for you. Regardless, you knew you'd feel better with him driving home if he was rested.

Your two stable hands were helping you with feedings, when your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Quinn Hughes: Do you need help with anything? I feel weird just...hanging out in your house. (4:43pm)

Y|N: We're just finishing up, you're good, but thanks. Help yourself to whatever. I shouldn't be too long. (4:45pm)

Quinn Hughes: Are you sure? (4:46pm)

Y|N: Just don't drink all of my cherry wine in the fridge! LOL (4:50pm)

Quinn Hughes: Dammit! I'll just sit here then (4:51pm)

Y|N: If you're that desperate, you can come feed your buddy Tater. (4:55pm)

Quinn Hughes: I'm good! Like I said, I've already got one bad hand! (4:55pm)

Y|N: Suit yourself! ;) (5:01pm)

Another half hour would pass before you finally dragged yourself back to the house. Quinn was still where you had left him: on the sofa, but now the television was on, and tuned to the NHLN channel. (Go figure.) You thought to yourself.

"All done?" He asked as you planted yourself on the bench by the front door. It felt so good to sit down on something other than a saddle, because your back was killing you. The sigh that escaped your lips non-verbally expressed how tired you were; even a blind man could sense it, despite your head falling back against the wall.

"Finally," you breathed out.

Quinn frowned though you wouldn't see it. It pained him to see you so exhausted just sitting there. "Are all of your days like this?"

You'd pull yourself off the wall to finally look at him as you struggled to remove your riding boots. "Pretty much. Normally, I have a little more sleep."

It wasn't your intention to punch him in the gut like you did, but he remembered the early morning conversation that had kept you from your bed. "That's my fault, sorry."

"Oh, you're fine! It happens! I told you I could have just stopped replying."

"Yeah, but--"

Your second boot would hit the floor with a thud, almost interrupting him. You could tell your feet were going to swell... "Maybe I'll sleep in in the morning, ha!"

Quinn didn't know how to respond to your sarcasm and opted to just remain quiet.

"Don't feel bad about it, honest. It happens."

"I feel like I should get out of here so you can get an early night. Maybe we could get lunch tomorrow or something?"

You glazed over his wishes of leaving early to focus on his want to come back tomorrow. "You want to drive back down tomorrow?"

He looked like a deer-in-the-headlights, "I invited myself over again, didn't I?"

"No, it wasn't that! I'm just-- shocked, that you'd want...to make the drive again."

"It's just a couple hours."

"One way," you stressed.

"It's no big deal."

His smile took your breath away, prompting your heart to run away with your words, "Why don't you just stay if you're planning to come out tomorrow, too? If-- you want that is." You prayed he didn't see your blushing cheeks through the Golden Hour sun streaming through the living room's large windows.

"Oh, I couldn't--"

"There are plenty of rooms. It's not like you'd be putting me out. But, you do what you want." You dragged yourself to your feet and shuffled past him through the living room. The words you had picked made you feel like you were trying to gaslight him into saying. Best to physically leave that conversation for a glass of wine in the kitchen. However, you wouldn't be alone for long.

Leaning against the doorframe, Quinn had followed behind you. "You're sure?"

"I'd feel bad if you fell asleep driving..."

Thankfully his nervous laughter broke whatever tension was starting to form, "Yeah, I don't want that. Thanks."

"No problem," you replied, your back to him as you grabbed a glass. "Are you as hungry as I am?"

"Starving!"

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction

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ramp-it-up · 1 month ago

Text

Peach, Part IV

Peach III | Peach V

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' best friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky because it's the right thing to do. And now he is in love. With you. He wants to move forward with you and now he's got you on his turf.

Pairing: Art Dealer/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: I love these two with my whole heart. This is turning into the slowest of burns, sorry not sorry. This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in the Bucky Barnes fic Worth the Fall and the Steve Rogers fic Peach III. We're at the second week of December, there is still so much in my head to say. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, Mutual pining, idiots in love, drinking, body parts tingling, wild wild thoughts of breeding, taking each other down in various ways, and cock riding. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

--------

On one of your many walks along the beach, you teased your cousin about being the future Mrs. Bucky Barnes, and she tried to get you to talk about Steve, explaining some of the backstory to what happened in Atlanta.

But you were intransigent.

“Look. I know how stubborn you are. And how tough you are, because you’ve had to be. But I also know how big your heart is and how worthy you are of love. You are passing up on the chance to find your one true love.”

You scoffed.

“Love? Everyone can’t be all starry eyed and head over heels like you and Bunny boy.”

She laughed and shook her head at your nickname for Bucky, who you’d grown to like a lot over the weekend.

“And Steven, disguised at Grant, just wanted to get in my panties, which he achieved.”

You looked toward the waves as you thought about how Grant got you to see fireworks that night in your apartment, and the things Steve said that he wanted to do to you the other night.

“I have no doubt that Steve Rogers wants to fuck you girl. Look at you. You are fine as fuck.”

You laughed at your cousin dressing you down and gassing you up at the same time.

“But let’s be clear. You wanted to fuck him too. You still do. I see the way you look at him.”

“Hey! I didn’t lie–”

“Ah-ah!”

She silenced you with a finger.

“I know he lied about who he was, but were you completely honest with him? Totally?”

You side eyed your cousin as you imagined strangling her. But you weren’t eleven years old anymore.

And she wasn’t wrong.

“Yes, Steve lied, but he wants to make amends. He has feelings for you.”

You gave your cousin a side eye.

“Did he tell you that? And you trust him?”

“With my life.”

She put her arm around you and pulled you close as you walked.

“Listen, I know you are guarding your heart, but I know Steve. He’s got this exterior that seems one way, but he will surprise you. He’s a really, really good guy.”

You sighed, still not there yet.

“I’m good on that, cousin.”

“Okay. I’ll tell him that you have a heart of stone and that he should move on. It’s not like there aren’t bitches lined up to suck his dick every day in the city…”

A jolt of jealousy zipped through you, but you pushed it down. You just took a deep breath and gave her an overly bright smile.

“I don’t care who slobs on his lil’ knob.”

She rolled her eyes at you.

“Riiggght, cousin. Anyway. You are still taking the endowment money right?”

You raised your eyebrow at her and nodded.

“Nothing is going to get in the way of this dream, cousin.”

She grinned back at you, almost as bright as the sun.

“That’s my girl! We gon’ have a time in New York City…”

—

Sunday morning before you drove back to Atlanta, you went to the kitchen just as Steve came back in from a run on the beach. The rest of the family was going to Church and then he, Bucky and your cousin were going to fly back to New York on the private jet.

“Hey.”

He chucked his chin up at you like you were one of his bros.

The audacity.

“Hello.”

You kept it cute as he moved around you to grab a glass to get some water from the tap. The scent of sweat, ocean air, and him wrapped around you and you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes to savor it. It was like you were lost.

You opened your eyes to find him watching you as he downed the glass in one gulp, a drop of water escaping and rolling down his chin to his neck and disappearing into the already wet collar of his tight t-shirt.

You cleared your throat as he maintained eye contact with you and wiped his lips with his thumb, and some unseen force made you watch those thick fingers that felt you up not a month before, your nipples tight and panties wet.

Damn, this man and his effect on you.

You stared as his eyes swept down your body as if he knew what you looked like naked. He had seen you dance, and felt you up over and under your clothes, but that wasn’t what the look of possession was about.

This man wanted you.

—-

Steve almost ran back outside when he saw you in the kitchen as he came in. He’s taken a run to calm the erection he had when he woke up because of you, and now, here you were, dressed almost exactly the same as when he had the opportunity to kiss you and make you cum in his arms exactly 29 days earlier.

Yes, he was keeping count.

Steve was practically speechless, yet he managed to get out a crude, ‘Hey’ and a head motion as a greeting. What was that?

He wanted close to you, to feel your skin against his lips again, to check and see if you were wet, which you were judging from your slightly open lips and blown pupils. He didn’t go near you as he got a drink however, because no matter how much he was into knife and gun play, he wasn’t going there.

Steve wanted in your heart, not just your pants.

When you closed your eyes and visibly inhaled (probably to calm your anger, he imagined), he used the opportunity to watch your chest rise and watch the sunlight play on your skin. Those beautiful eyes caused his heart to clench when you opened them and he couldn’t tear his away as he drank his water.

Which he needed at the moment. Desperately.

Unconsciously, he wiped his lips with his thumb, remembering the texture of you as he did so. You cleared your throat, snapping him out of it.

“Peach…”

He stopped, waiting for your retort. You just stood there, expectant and although he was shocked as shit, he continued.

“I want to apologize for lying to you and for allowing things to get…physical while you believed a lie.”

You watched him for what seemed like a long time, but was really only seconds.

“I accept your apology, Steve, and I believe in forgiveness, if only for myself being able to move on, but I’m not ready to forget or fully trust you.” Steve nodded.

“I get it. I’m really sorry.”

You shrugged.

“I know you were trying to help Bucky get clean for my cousin, and I love her big, so, I can’t stay mad. And it’s clear that you are ride or die for those you love.”

And then you cocked your head at him in that adorable way and his heart crumbled into the sparkly bits of honey in your eyes.

“I feel like you love my cousin. Like family. So I guess that makes us family too.”

When you gave him a small smile, he smiled back dreamily. He was a teenage boy in your presence.

“I guess you’re right.”

Steve thought of family and a vision of you as a mother had him in a chokehold. You had him raging hard and wanting to bend you over the kitchen island and breed you until his seed dripped down your legs. Instead, he moved behind it to hide his condition.

“We will have to be in contact because of the endowment, which I am taking because of my students and the fact that it’s been my dream since I was 12 years old. It was then that I started being told that I was all wrong. My ass was too big. My breasts were too bouncy. I didn’t have a ‘desirable dance body.’”

Steve’s eyes openly scanned you. He looked angry, then scoffed.

“That's ridiculous.”

“Of course it is.”

“Don't change a thing. That would be criminal.”

You paused and then gave him a slightly larger smile then.

“Believe me, I'm not planning to change myself. I’m planning on changing the world.”

Steve stared at you, astounded at your fierce courage. No one else could compare.

“I’m serious. I know that sounds grandiose, but I want to leave my mark. I started a dance company so that any body with talent can get on a stage and have a career, regardless of their shape and size. That’s why I’m accepting the endowment. We can be business partners if it means those dreams can come true.”

You were a force. Damn, that only made Steve love you more.

“Brava, Peach.”

You stared back into those baby blues and coughed, trying to clear your throat from the lump that had formed there. Your goals and dreams always made you get intense.

“Need some water?”

Steve was already reaching for another glass. His eyes went wide as you reached for his and finished off what was left in it. He almost came at the thought of your lips where his had been. Holy mother of god.

“That hit the spot, thanks.”

You licked your lips and he nearly fainted, and as you turned toward the stairs, giving him a view of your backside, and looked back at him, he almost ethered to the sky.

“See you next week, Mr. Rogers. Have a safe flight.”

—-

Steve felt frantic the entire seven days leading up to the day he’d see you again. He and Sam and Nat and Bucky had lots of work to do, but he felt like a bumbling idiot, because his perfectionism was getting in the way.

Bucky saw the barriers Steve’s mind was putting in his way and spent extra time helping him. That’s why Bucky was his brother, Steve’s only family since his mother died when he was a kid.

They worked day and night, it seemed, to be ready for the summit.

Steve managed to take a few minutes to himself each night, sketching before he slept. The images of you that came from the lead of his pencil soothing his spirit and filling his dreams. They also caused him to wake up with a stiff reminder of your feel and smell in his nostrils.

Steve Rogers couldn’t wait to see his Peach again.

—--

You kept checking the emailed itinerary on the phone as you tried to relax in business class. All of the endowment recipients were arriving in New York around the same time period in the afternoon, and you were being picked up and chauffeured to your hotel, then three hours later, to a reception at a club in the Rebirth Building.

Then, you would be left to your own devices for dinner and to turn in or turn up. Turning up with your cousin was the only option.

You decided to try and catch some zzzz’s on the plane so you wouldn’t be too tired later. You also wanted to calm your nerves. This was a big deal for your dance school, you told yourself. You weren’t nervous about seeing Steve Rogers again on his turf.

Not at all.

—---

The driver that picked you up from the airport, complete with your name on a placard, Nico, was super nice. You were surprised that your cousin was in the car. You two squealed and talked and laughed on the way, and you were in such a good mood that you didn’t pay much attention when she addressed him by his first name very familiarly. He must be a very friendly guy.

Your check-in at the 1 Hotel Brooklyn was a breeze. The concierge let you know that you checked in at the right time; you happened to be upgraded to a one bedroom suite with a view of the New York skyline and the Statue of Liberty. The king sized bed looked like a dream, so you took a nap before you got ready for the evening. You wanted to be at your best amongst the other five Endowment awardees.

—-

You walked into the bar, Bea, and you were struck at how gorgeous it was, and how masculine.

There was rich mahogany wood everywhere, and the bartop material was a dark black honed marble. There were luxurious upholstered leather chairs and booths throughout and floor to ceiling wine coolers.

You were looking around in awe as a young woman came up and handed you a name tag.

“You must be Ms. YLN. Welcome.”

You greeted her as your cousin smirked at you. She grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing wait staff.

“How…”

You gaped at her.

“All staff have been briefed on all of you. Nothing but the best this week.”

“Oh. Okay…” She giggled as you continued your inspection of the place. Steve and ‘nem had more money than you thought. A lot more. A thought crossed your mind.

“Wait. Do you work for them?”

You narrowed your eyes at your cousin as she rolled hers.

“Well, tangentially. Bucky funded our Howard Benson exhibit at the Center and so I’ve worked with Rebirth on some Harlem Renaissance initiatives around Brooklyn and the other boroughs. I’ve also een helping Bucky and the crew prepare for this week.”

“Ah. Okay.”

You took a sip of your drink and continued your perusal.

It was your cousin’s turn now.

“Listen, bitch.You’ve got to chill. No one is out to get you, especially me.”

Your cousin looked halfway angry. But she was still adorable.

“You’re so fucking cute. Love looks good on you.”

You smiled at her serenely and she shook her head at you, knowing you too well.

“Don’t give me your shit, Peach. I was there in Hilton Head. You will act like you have some sense.”

“I’m civilized, cousin. Steve and I had a talk before I left. I’m chilling.”

“You better.”

She pointed to the gathering crowd in the room.

“Now go network.”

—--

Your laugh. It gave Steve goosebumps.

He hadn’t heard your full laugh much in Atlanta, just some low, sexy chuckles, because you two hadn’t talked much. And you certainly weren’t happy when he showed up at your family’s house. But you seemed much more relaxed this evening and Steve decided that it was his favorite thing in the world.

He spotted you as soon as you walked in with your cousin and she was beautiful as always.

But you.

When you finally noticed him, you seemed surprised, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, but not angry at all. He gained hope, and stood up straight, wondering if he looked good to you because you were certainly a vision to his eyes.

The outfit you were wearing was classy, yet could not hide that body from the eyes that studied it every chance he got. Which was every time he saw you.

As you mingled, and he shmoozed, he consistently had to force his eyes away from your tempting curves, your gorgeous face, the sound of your voice. And that fucking laugh. It wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed, seeped into his soul and spread warmth.

Not to mention the effect you had on his cock.

You were a fucking vision in black wide-legged leather pants and a plain white tee that hugged your mouthwatering tits, accessorized with red pointy heels a red clutch and an off white wool trench coat. The edgy outfit was very appropriate for the art world and although you were all covered up, your body wasn’t hidden from him, only accentuated. To top it off, your normally coily hair was straightened and loosely curled, calling for his fingers to slide through the thick strands.

It’s your eyes that got to him, though, those fucking beautiful eyes that he longed to see hazy with the pleasure he was giving you. He maintained eye contact with you as he thought his lurid thoughts, and raised his drink in a salute. You smiled at him and raised your drink in response and his heart soared.

Although he wanted to be near you immediately, he decided to give you some space. He didn’t want to force anything. Well, maybe he wanted to force his thick cock into your tiny cunt.

He licked his lips, then shook his head and scowled at Bucky as he noticed Steve staring at you. But he didn’t stop.

Careful now, Steve told himself. Take it slow.

—--

You mingled and met some of your fellow recipients. They were a diverse group of people from all over the country, but most seemed type cool. There was one who latched on to you, Sharon Carter. She was a photographer from Memphis and was very chatty. She was glued to your side as you made the rounds and you weren’t too mad. She just didn’t shut up.

“How do you like your room? A double with a view of the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. And after a three hour coach flight. Fancy.”

You sipped your drink and Sharon’s sarcasm. Your mind started whirling.

“Get a load of those beautiful people right there. Those are our benefactors.”

You looked to where she was indicating and were surprised to see Steve standing with Bucky, another tall handsome man with a low cut fade, and a petite fit redhead woman. They all looked to belong on a movie poster.

But Steve.

He was leaned against the bar, arms crossed over his broad chest, perfectly tailored dark green sport coat and black wool sweater, hugging his broad shoulders and trim waist like nobody’s business. His dark slacks were hanging on for dear life to those massive thighs, and his thick dark blond hair was tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it all day. You liked his hair cut short in the back with the length on top. There was still something to grab on to.

Damn him. It should be illegal for a man to look that fucking good, especially at this hour, with you already having had two glasses of champagne.…

You caught eye contact with Steve and your world spun for a second as you connected across the room. His eyes… God, his eyes.

Those steely blues were blazing with a heat that you could feel in your pussy, somehow containing a hunger that threatened to consume you. He stood up straight, and if you didn’ know any better, you would have thought that he flexed a little as he stared at you. Your pussy thought so, but your brain thought he wouldn’t try to hurt you like that.

He did, however, raise his glass to you and you couldn’t help but respond in kind.

You turned your attention to Bucky as he started to speak, and grabbed a bottle of water from a waiter, thinking you needed a clear head when you had to actually talk to Steve and not just acknowledge him from across the room.

"Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the Rebirth Art Foundation’s annual celebration of creativity and innovation in the arts. This is a gathering to honor six extraordinary artists whose talent, vision, and hard work have earned them a place among the most promising creators of our time….”

You watched your cousin who was totally enraptured by what Bucky was saying. You got a warm feeling as you saw what true love looked like. You smirked as you saw her make her way over to him as Nat stepped up to speak. You were so happy for your fam.

“Now Bucky Barnes is a snack. Wonder if he’s taken?”

You side eyed the hussy and then pointed at your cousin, who hadn’t made it to Bucky yet.

“I think that’s his wife or something right there.”

Sharon took a sip of her drink and wrinkled her nose.

“Ha! Nice joke. But I don’t think they go together, meaning they don’t match. Get it?”

You stared daggers at her. This bitch. Then you glanced at your cousin and her man again.

“You might want to tell him that, because he looks like he’s about to take her tonsils out with his tongue.”

Sharon’s mouth dropped open to see them making out in a corner. You couldn’t help but laugh as she shrugged, then brightened when Steve gained the mic.

“Never mind him. Steve Rogers is the entire meal. I have it on good authority that his dick is big.”

You looked from her to Steve, a sinking feeling in your stomach. Were you going to catch a case in New York City over a man that was not your man?

Or was he your man?

“Good evening, and welcome. It’s an honor to have you all here as we celebrate six incredible artists who are pushing the boundaries of what’s possible in the art world and are poised to change the entire world.”

Steve looked straight at you then, and you held his gaze for that fraction of a second as he raised his eyebrow as electricity zapped between you before his eyes continued around the room.

Sharon was forgotten momentarily and you bit your lip. Whew. You had to refrain from fanning yourself as he continued.

“At Rebirth, we believe that art is more than just a medium—it’s a force that connects us, challenges us, and shapes our future. This week, I encourage you to not only take in everything around you but also to share your unique perspectives. Creation, art, and collaboration are the soul of this foundation, and I’m excited to see what bonds form this week. Congratulations once again, and let’s make something amazing together!”

“Come on, now is the time to meet them. Maybe I can make something amazing with Steve Rogers tonight.”

You let yourself be dragged over to where the four were standing as Sam was finishing his welcome and you introduced yourself to each as you tried to listen to Sharon simping.

Each person smiled warmly at you, and Bucky pulled you in for a hug, which made Sharon side eye you both, but only for a moment as her attention turned to Steve.

“Mr. Rogers, I’m Sharon Carter. You know my Aunt Peggy.”

Steve blanched.

“Peggy? Your… Aunt?”

Sharon laughed, a little shrilly to your ears.

“Yes. She’s my mother’s half sister. Born to the second wife, 18 years younger than my mom. They weren’t that close. But Peggy and I are just like sisters.”

“Oh.”

Steve looked a little trapped.

“Didn’t know that. It’s a small world.”

Peggy leaned closer to him, but you heard her stage whisper.

“Don’t worry, I won’t share the secrets she told me…”

Steve looked at her like she was crazy and then looked at you, almost in panic. You could see the anxiety in his eyes, so you decided to rescue him.

“Mr. Rogers. Hi. ”

The huskiness of your voice, the way his name sounded on your tongue. It calmed him and sent a lightning bolt of desire through him. Steve wanted to hear you call him that in a very different context.

Steve’s face changed when he looked at you. He shifted toward you, much to Sharon’s chagrin.

“My name is Y/N Y/LN, and it’s so good to finally meet you. I hope that this is the start of a great partnership.”

Steve cocked his eyebrow at you and smiled as you took his hand. You initiating touch with him was the start of his wet dreams of late. His thumb stroked your hand as he held it.

“I hope so too, Ms. Y/LN. I’ve been meaning to talk to you…”

“Please, call me Peach, Mr. Rogers.”

Nat came around and distracted Sharon as Steve put his hand on the small of your back to guide you to the side of the bar to talk. His smell enveloped you and his touch had you walking carefully, because your knees were weak.

“What did you want to talk about Mr. Rogers?”

He shook his head, his eyes dark now.

“Call me Steve, Peach, please.”

His voice was rougher, and impossibly deeper as he begged, and it sent chills straight to your pussy. You cocked your head and he in turn licked his lips.

“Why?”

“Because if you keep calling me Mr. Rogers, I–”

He stopped and your lust-addled brain filled in the gaps. Your lips parted on a soft inhale. Steve, on the other hand, inhaled sharply.

And then exhaled slowly.

“How was your flight?”

Steve thought it best to talk of the mundane, because he was half a second from bending you over the bar in front of all these people.

“It was… great. I appreciated the business class seat.”

His eyebrow shot up.

“You got upgraded? How fortunate.”

“Ummmmhmmm. So you didn’t know?”

“Promise.”

Steve’s mouth quirked up in a half smile, because he knew you didn’t trust him, but you were so cute when you were grilling him.

“And you didn’t know about the upgrade at the hotel?”

“No…”

“I have a king suite with a killer view of the city.”

Steve grinned now and you almost shielded your eyes.

“Seems you’re lucky.”

You stared into his eyes to see if he was lying, but you didn’t see anything there but feelings you didn’t want to name. But because of your history, you still didn’t trust what he said. Nevertheless, you decided to let it go. There was something else you needed to know.

“So, who’s Peggy?”

Steve grimaced.

“She’s someone I knew a long time ago. We were close. Once. But not anymore.”

You just kept looking at him.

“She’s moved on, married to a rich guy on the west coast. And I’ve moved on as well.”

You straightened up as he gazed down at you. You didn’t know why you cared so much. And you didn’t want to analyze his last sentence.

“Oh.”

Now, Steve was smiling down at you like he thought you were jealous.

Which was absurd.

And he looked as if he was happy about that ridiculous idea.

You were right.

Steve was jumping for joy on the inside at the way you reacted to hearing about Peggy. He didn’t expect to think about her, much less have to explain her to you tonight, but if it led to you realizing you had feelings for him, he was glad of Sharon’s connection. And the way she ran her mouth, although it was annoying.

“You good, Peach?”

You weren’t good. You found yourself wanting to show Steve your suite, especially the ceiling, as you rode his cock on the king sized bed so as to make him forget about any other pussy ever existing. But you must have been tweaking.

You needed to get out of there.

You turned around and went to find your cousin.

“I’m great Mr. Rogers. You have a good night.”

And Steve was left watching you walk away again.

——

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joequiinn · 3 months ago

Text

And You're Driven Like the Snow | s.h. x mall goth!reader

Summary | Just when you thought Christmas Eve couldn't get any more stressful at Starcourt, that pretty boy from Scoops Ahoy (that you did not have a crush on) walked into your shop and threw your whole night for a loop.

Prompt | You need a last minute gift, but man that sales clerk sure is cute…

Warnings & Notes | fem!reader, mostly fluff, sorta merry little meet-cute (?), mutual pining, post-S3 au in which nothing bad happens, nervous & awkward Steve, reader's appearance not described only parts of her wardrobe are referenced

Author's Note | This was an idea I had started only a couple of days before @littlexdeaths posted the Twelve Days of Promptmas list, so when I saw a prompt that fit the vibes, I made some little adjustments to the story! This is my first go at writing Steve, so I hope I've done him justice.

Recommended Listening | very merry gothmas

WC | 12.5k

[masterlist]

!!! MINORS DNI !!!

Still night, nothing for miles // A white curtain come down Kill the lights in the middle of the road // And take a, take a look around

The guy in that stupid little sailor suit should not have ever caught your eye, not for anything more than a simple laugh at his expense before moving on with your day. And yet - as you entered the mall before hours, running late and knowing that your manager would chew you out for it - you caught yourself doing a double-take, looking from his gorgeous head of hair down to the near dangerous length of his shorts.

It only lasted for perhaps a few seconds, but nonetheless you had to shake yourself from the moment, utter confusion written across your face. Why the hell had you looked for even just that second, eyeing some pretty boy who most certainly wasn’t your type at all?

Once you had entered Spencer’s Gifts through the staff door and gotten the expected scolding from your manager who was on an authority high, you’d all but forgotten about your strange lapse in judgment on your way here. And so your day carried on as usual, your week carried on as usual, and that stupid looking boy from the ice cream shop wasn’t even a blip in your mind.

Until a week or so later, when once again you spotted him from afar as the two of you entered Starcourt for your respective shifts. This time, you couldn’t help but stare a little longer, looking him up and down with an insatiable curiosity as he walked far enough ahead of you that he was most likely unaware of your presence at all.

You tried to convince yourself that you were staring this time simply to figure out why he caught your attention in the first place - it had to be because of how stupid that Scoops Ahoy uniform was, right? There was no way you were oddly charmed by how well he wore it, or how his hair looked incredibly soft, or how his absentminded expression had an endearing quality to it. Nope, you weren’t staring out of any sort of interest in him at all, it was simply some morbid sense of curiosity about someone so clearly unlike yourself.

It was the third time you were staring, however, that made you kick yourself, because on this occasion the Scoops Ahoy guy caught you.

You’d been walking quite a fair distance behind - hoping that you didn’t look like a total creep watching how his long strides carried him - when his keys fell from his hands. When he turned to pick them up, the two of you met eyes across the expanse of the empty mall; you hadn’t even realized that you stopped walking until that moment.

You were instantly flustered by his brown eyes and the curious furrow of his brow, trying in vain to look around yourself and act as if you totally weren’t staring at all. Of course, you knew even as you did it that the act wasn’t going to work; when you nervously met his eyes again, you thought perhaps you saw something like amusement there. So, panicked and not knowing what else to do, you glared harshly as if to dismiss your staring and briskly continued on towards the escalators without daring to slow or look back at him one last time.

Why you’d been so caught up in him at all was a mystery to you, and so from that point you made a conscious effort to ignore him in the hopes that eventually your intrigue would be forgotten. So, you briefly found some guy cute? Didn’t matter, especially considering that you had no intention of ever speaking to him anyway.

Most days, that stupid Scoops Ahoy guy never even crossed your mind, but when he did, it was nearly an annoyance. If ever you visited the food court for lunch, it was almost aggressive the way you ignored the ice cream parlor, acting as if it wasn’t even there. During some of your morning walks through Starcourt you tried to keep your head down, but more than once the two of you had accidentally fallen in-stride with one another, which would prompt you to practically stomp forward and act as if you didn’t know he was there at all.

Then there was one day when you were convinced that your coworker was conspiring against you, because Shelley all but dragged you down to Scoops Ahoy despite your protests. Evidently, her ice cream craving took precedence over your arguments against accompanying her.

You could feel the tension in your body and across your face as you awkwardly stood there beside Shelley, your eyes trained on the floor as if that would keep you from doing something foolish. If your coworker was aware of your rigid demeanor, she didn’t draw attention to it, far too focused on ordering the most annoyingly intricate sundae you’d ever seen.

As luck would have it, you weren’t invisible simply because you wouldn’t look at the Scoops Ahoy guy, because he turned his attention to you and asked, “Anything for you?”

You looked up with a mean expression, which was somewhat unintentional - your nerves always managed to make you seem bitchy rather than anxious, which was a win depending on who you asked. You could see the exact moment that he recognized you, his expression faltering for a brief moment; you weren’t sure if his surprise was good or bad.

Your eyes bounced around his face for a moment, flicking down towards his name tag just long enough to read that it said “Steve” in bubble letters; shit, having his name made this so much worse somehow. But you found your voice quickly - although it felt like a lifetime - giving him a blunt and mildly rude, “No.”

You could see a bit of tension between his brows at your response, but he was able to mask it quickly, putting on that false customer service smile while turning his attention back to Shelley. That interaction was damn near mortifying for you, and for weeks after you avoided the food court like a damn plague.

Then, of course, there was that one time you were cleaning up shelves near the front of Spencer’s, minding your business and trying to zone out everything around you, when you felt as if there were a pair of eyes on you. So, you looked around quizzically, up and down the wide aisles of Starcourt, when finally you spotted Steve rubber-necking from across the way just so he could stare at you. Beside him was his fellow Scoops Ahoy employee, and under other circumstances, their matching uniforms would have made the sight of them comical to you, but in this instance all you felt was confusion and nervousness.

Now it was your turn to pull a bewildered expression as a flustered look flashed across Steve’s face. He abruptly pulled his gaze away, pretending to look at the mannequins in the shop window next to him, though he practically tripped over himself in his panic.

Despite your utter confusion, something about it made you smile to yourself while turning back towards your work, though you just as quickly shook off the expression. You were not about to get giddy just because some guy was looking at you - for all you knew, his stare was a bad thing. Maybe he was just trying to remember your face so he knew which store to avoid, or maybe - an even worse thought - he was confusing you with someone else. Regardless, you kept your head down until you were finally done with your task, whisking deeper into the store the moment that you were free.

You were a pretty far cry from Steve Harrington’s usual type - the all-black wardrobe, the intricate make-up, and the wild hair of the goth scene had never been of any interest to him before. In fact, a younger, more entitled and rude Steve would have probably mocked your appearance. The only time he would spare a second glance at someone clad in black was usually because their attire was garishly off-trend, but otherwise he’d never once spared any goth chick a second glance.

That is, until that one morning when he dropped his keys and caught you staring at him.

Steve was almost certain that he’d seen you around before, though only sparingly and in his periphery; he could have been confusing you with some of the other mall goths he’d seen lurking about, but he was pretty damn confident that he recognized you specifically.

He was taken aback by the fact that you were watching him so intently, his interest only amplified by the way your expression morphed from curiosity into a glare before you briskly walked off in the direction of your respective workplace. Steve couldn’t help but watch you go, an intrigue planted in his brain as he looked you up and down, perhaps trying to commit your appearance to memory. He wondered why you seemed so focused on him, which quickly morphed into wondering about you in general.

It was almost refreshing to have someone new to be curious about, considering that chicks seemed to abruptly lose interest in Steve over the summer. It bolstered his confidence to catch you staring at him, a confidence that he didn’t realize had wavered so much.

Oftentimes, Steve would go days at a time without thinking about the goth girl who gave him pause, but every time he thought he was free of you, you’d appear again like clockwork. He’d see you in the parking lot as the two of you rushed into work, on a lunch break trying to scarf down your food so you wouldn’t be late, talking with people who were maybe coworkers or friends. And even that brief, stinted interaction when you were in line at Scoops Ahoy managed to intrigue him despite your rudeness.

Again, it was usually only in passing, but Steve was becoming increasingly aware of your presence… and increasingly aware of the fact that he found you very attractive.

He didn’t know a damn thing about you - not your name or what your voice sounded like or your interests - but Steve was beginning to enjoy those random sightings of you around Starcourt, even looking forward to them as if you were a rare lunar eclipse. Watching you walk quickly across the mall and towards the escalators became a guessing game for him, wondering which shop you worked in - though, he didn’t want to be that guy who would swing by your workplace just so he could catch a glimpse of you. He wasn’t sure what it was about you that he was so drawn to, yet he couldn’t resist looking each time you were nearby.

Robin, of course, wasn’t stupid and caught onto the fact that someone was drawing Steve’s attention every now and then, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out who. Although they’d only been friends for a few months at this point, the two of them were practically attached at the hip, so it was strange that Steve wasn’t talking about whoever this new distraction was.

Considering that he all but gave up on flirting with girls at Scoops and hadn’t been on a date in months - so far as Robin was aware - it only made this scenario all the more intriguing to her. Now, Robin was committed to figuring out who had caught Steve’s eye and why he wasn’t saying anything about it.

She finally got her answer one day as the two of them were walking through Starcourt after work, Robin insisting on stopping into a couple of stores before leaving. She noticed Steve clearly focused elsewhere, and so she tried to slyly look around, hoping she’d pinpoint the chick that had Steve’s head turning. Evidently, he must have been caught, because Steve whipped his attention around rapidly, even stumbling over his feet as he tried to play nonchalant.

So, Robin looked back while stifling her laugh, eyes scanning the crowds for anyone who could be the culprit - she was expecting it to be obvious, to see a gorgeous girl in preppy clothes with equally as generic hair and make-up. But when no one instantly stood out, it made her pause, eyes focusing in on each and every face more carefully.

Steve hadn’t realized that she stopped walking until he was a few paces ahead, looking either side of him before turning around towards his best friend. His brows furrowed with confusion as he asked what she was doing, but Robin was too focused to answer; so, he walked back towards her, trying to follow her line of sight, still feeling a touch frazzled by the fact that you’d caught him staring at you so damn openly.

It took a minute, but Robin was still coming up blank - no one looked to be Steve’s type at all. She turned her attention back to him, eyes narrowing with a scrutiny that was making him nervous all over again.

“Who were you looking at?” Robin asked. Steve’s brow rose with worry that he’d been caught before he tried to put on a false show of innocence.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit.” Robin’s expression became even more scheming, eager to play detective and uncover what Steve wasn’t telling her, “Don’t play dumb, I know you’ve been distracted by someone recently, so who is it?”

Despite it being an uphill battle, Steve still tried to feign confusion, “I haven’t been distracted by anyone.”

“You’re not as subtle as you think.” Robin smiled devilishly, looking around Starcourt again, “So, why are you afraid of just telling me?”

Steve stared dumbly at her for a moment, heart drumming nervously as if he’d committed some kind of crime. With a deep sigh, he shook his head while looking down at the ground in defeat - he figured the worst Robin could do was pick on him a little, so there was no reason to be this secretive about it.

So, Steve looked back towards Spencer’s, half hoping you wouldn’t be at the front of the store, but you were still there directly in his sight. He pointed towards you, praying that you wouldn’t happen to look back up just like you did a couple of minutes ago. Robin followed his finger, her brow knitted together when the only person who fit the bill even slightly was you, the goth chick with the “don’t talk to me” attitude.

She looked between you and Steve, back and forth enough times that it was nearly slapstick; everything she knew about Steve up to this point hadn’t prepared her for the realization that maybe goth could be his type. Is that why he hadn’t mentioned it, why he hadn’t once discussed a new crush he was maybe developing?

Once the shock of it had passed, Robin’s eyes lit up with amusement, which only made Steve sigh in preparation for the inevitable annoyance she was about to be, “How the hell do you know her?”

“I don’t know her.” Steve insisted quickly, “I just started noticing her, that’s all.”

Robin’s expression grew giddier as she bumped her shoulder into his, “Then when are you going to try to get to know her?”

“I’m not.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Why?” Robin couldn’t help but grow invested in the scenario, especially because Steve was being so resistant to it, “What’s the harm in just talking to her?”

“I don’t know if I’m even into her, let alone if she’d give me the time of day.” Steve argued as if it were the most obvious thing.

“Only way to find out is to try.” Robin sing-songed, delighting in her best friend’s torment.

“And be on the receiving end of that glare again? Yeah, no thanks.” Robin shook her head at his stubbornness, prepared to keep up her taunts, but Steve spoke again before she got the chance to, “Look, drop it, I’m not gonna talk to her.”

“But aren’t you at least a little curious? Maybe she’s your soulmate.” Robin teased as Steve began walking again, all too invested in putting as much distance between you and him as possible. She had to jog a few steps just to catch up with him again, “Come on, Steve, just go for it.”

“I’m really not as interested as you think I am.” Steve argued as Robin looked back towards Spencer’s again briefly. She hummed with doubt, clearly not convinced by the disinterested front he put up; as Steve’s best friend, she decided it was her job to just give him the little nudge he needed, she just had to figure out how and when.

As if he could tell that she was scheming, Steve raised his brows with a warning look that was far from intimidating, “Robin, don’t.”

She continued to mull things over, quite intent on her new mission, but to appease Steve, she nodded noncommittally while rolling her eyes, “Sure, whatever, I’ll drop it…”

Eventually, Thanksgiving had come and gone; with the cold weather now a mainstay in Hawkins, you stupidly mourned the fact that Steve (and god how you wish you could just forget that name) was now wearing pants instead of those little shorts. Despite your best efforts not to think about him too much, you could no longer resist letting him cross your mind from time to time.

Around that same time that the shorts were retired for the coming winter, your manager had roped you into a supervisor role that you didn’t even want; it was more thrust upon you once they began hiring seasonal staff to help with the influx of holiday customers. This meant that you were constantly swamped with tasks, overworked and underpaid as you seemed to spend every damn day at Starcourt covering shifts or counting inventory or arguing with the delivery guys over damaged shipments.

And all for a minimum wage position at some gag store like Spencer’s freaking Gifts? You decided that you may have to do some job hunting once the holidays had come to an end.

To top it all off, you were now stuck short staffed for the closing shift on Christmas Eve thanks to two employees calling out “sick;” really, you thought it was ridiculous that Starcourt was even open on the holiday, but nothing was going to stop capitalism America from catering to those last-minute, needy shoppers.

Honestly, you didn’t celebrate the holiday, so it wasn’t as if being at work was keeping you from family or friends or parties - but you really weren’t excited to deal with argumentative customers and theft and the impatient crowds of people who simply couldn’t be bothered to do their shopping any sooner. That was the kind of shit that was bound to make you rip your hair out.

But, alas, here you were, trying to keep it together as shoppers crammed into the small store, ruining displays, asking for price checks, being rude and dismissive with the kids at the registers. It was exactly the kind of chaos you were expecting, and yet somehow it was even more insufferable than you had prepared yourself for.

Considering that you were the keyholder for tonight, you tried your damnedest to keep the ship known as Spencer’s afloat - you were all too happy to get confrontational with rude customers, get your fellow employees off the registers when it was clear shit was becoming too much, ran back and forth from the stockroom to the store floor in your best effort to keep the shelves full. The stress of it all dared to turn you into an addict of some kind, because right now you could definitely use a fix of something that you couldn’t even name.

The shop was only set to be open for another half hour, and although the crowd had thinned, there were still far too many customers here for your liking - at this rate, you’d be stuck at work half the night just trying to get everyone out of here and get the store closed properly. At least the staff looked less stressed than before, at least you had the chance to breathe between shopper complaints and demands, though that did little to alleviate your frustrations.

As you were busy putting out the last few boxes of He-Man figures that had been flying off the shelf all goddamn night, you could sense someone approaching you from the corner of your eye, a question hurriedly leaving their lips before you even had a chance to greet them.

“Would it be a little vulgar if someone gave this as a gift to the person they were interested in?” Your brow furrowed as you met the eyes of a girl about your age, her freckled face cute and friendly as she held out a pillow in the shape of tits. You looked back and forth between the gag pillow and her face a few times; although you were exhausted by the day you had, something about her question dared to amuse you, as if she knew that you needed some kind of pick-me-up.

And it had almost worked, too, until you noticed the man who had followed just a step behind her; he dragged his hand down his face uncomfortably, shaking his head while hissing her name frantically beneath his breath. His posture suggested he was exacerbated - as if he didn’t want to be here or as if they’d already had this conversation or as if he was embarrassed. It then took you another split second to realize who he was, as he wasn’t wearing that familiar uniform that you’d been trying and failing to ignore for months.

It was Steve.

Your expression instantly sobered as he looked between you and the girl, his panicky, apologetic gaze making you nervous instantly. Just like you had done nearly half a dozen times since learning of Steve’s existence, you impulsively glowered at him as if to dismiss your fears, although you immediately cursed yourself for doing something so stupid.

But maybe he didn’t notice, because his attention was already on the girl instead, brows raised with surprise at her behavior, his attitude akin to that of a scolding parent tired of their kid’s shit, “Jesus, Robin, really?”

Robin shrugged defensively, although there seemed to be some kind of knowing amusement in her eyes, a twinkle of mischief, “Well, I wanted a second opinion.”

“Oh yeah, sure you did.”

You looked between the duo awkwardly, not wanting to walk away considering that you were on the clock, but so wishing to be anywhere but here right now, as you could feel your face growing warm simply because Steve was standing right here in front of you.

In a measly attempt to calm your nerves, you returned focus to the box of figures you’d been unloading just a few moments ago. Beside you, the two bickered in hushed tones, just quiet enough that you weren’t really sure what the problem was or what they were saying to one another.

You took a deep breath through your nose, pressing your lips together as you put the last Skeletor up on the shelf; you had to decide if you were going to leave them to their squabbling or try to assist them. And for whatever reason, you chose professionalism over your selfish desire to get the hell out of dodge.

“Depends on how well you know the person.” You said plainly, cutting through their spat and quieting the both of them. You picked up the now empty box while looking from one pretty face to the other, your gaze tired from the long day that you’d had, “If they’re already a friend, hopefully they’ll laugh, but some fake tits probably won’t make someone interested in you.”

Your nose scrunched as you mulled over the girl’s question again, looking down at the stupid pillow that was dangling forgotten in her hand. A silent conversation was clearly happening between Robin and Steve, if their expressive faces were anything to go on. You sighed deeply, closing your eyes for a moment to compose yourself - it was damn near closing time, and the last thing you needed was to be stressing out over the guy that you did not have a crush on. He was just nice to look at, that’s all, though having him here just a few feet in front of you made you antsy as all get-out.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” You asked dully, drawing their attention back to you; you tried not to swallow nervously under the inviting warmth of those deep brown eyes.

Although he looked about ready to say something, Robin spoke first, her tone purposeful to the point that it was suspicious, “Actually, if you don’t mind, Steve here was looking at something behind the counter; could you show it to him?”

Steve shot Robin a look that seemed to be either a threat or a plea, and you continued to look between them with doubt, uncertainty, and trepidation; your shift had already been ridiculous as it is, and whatever shenanigans were clearly going on here was the last thing you wanted to worry about. Once again, you could see some kind of conflict happening even without any words being spoken between them.

So, you sighed decisively, shaking your head a little, “I’ll meet you up at the counter whenever you’re ready.”

You ducked into the storeroom to discard your empty box, taking a moment to breathe and relax before peeking out the door to see if your walking away had prompted Steve and Robin to leave or if they were still lingering around somewhere. A muttered “fuck” passed between your lips as you saw them clearly bickering near the front entrance, as if one wanted to go and one wanted to stay. You rolled your eyes up towards the ceiling because of course this would happen to you tonight, obviously the one person you’d been mildly attracted to recently would show up at your workplace when you were at your most stressed. So damn typical.

Collecting yourself, you walked from the storeroom towards the front counter, curious if they’d actually come up to look at whatever the hell Steve was supposedly interested in; really, you were hoping they’d just give up and leave, it would certainly make your night easier. You tried your damnedest to not look back over in their direction, letting the other customers serve as a much needed distraction, ringing up their purchases and trying to shoo them out and close shop as quickly as possible.

You were starting to think that the rush to lock up the store for the night had dissuaded Steve and Robin, because you couldn’t see either of them from your vantage point at the checkout counter. And by some miracle, you didn’t have any customers in need of assistance - at least for the moment - so you let your shoulders deflate, a relieved sigh escaping you. Less than ten minutes and you’d be able to lock the doors.

But your luck had run out almost immediately, because you saw someone coming up to the counter from the corner of your eye; preparing yourself, you took a deep breath and turned, though your confidence had withered away the moment you met their eyes.

Steve approached you alone, Robin nowhere in sight, which made your nerves even worse than before. His mouth was open as if he was about to speak, but no words were coming out, looking like he was frozen beneath your gaze; you had to resist that impulsive urge to glare, though you were certain you nonetheless didn’t look terribly approachable.

He leaned stiffly against the counter, trying his best to look easy and unbothered despite clearly feeling the opposite. You simply stared for a moment, unsure of yourself, before you managed to pull it together at least briefly.

“What was it that you wanted to look at?” You asked in your monotonous customer service voice, bracing your hands on the counter as if that could keep you calm and steady.

“There wasn’t actually anything,” Steve finally found his voice as he looked nervously between your eyes. Your brow curved up curiously, though a part of you had nearly suspected that answer.

“Yeah, I figured.” Your tone came off colder than you intended, and it caused apprehension to immediately flashed across Steve’s face. Realizing your mistake, you looked around yourself before rounding the counter, walking purposefully as if you had something else you needed to be doing, though all you were really doing was trying to escape. You could feel Steve following, the crowded shelves of merchandise forcing him into nearly too close proximity behind you.

“Sometimes Robin just says things, you know, she can be funny like that.” Steve explained as your expression furrowed, wondering what his deal was. You stopped walking abruptly, causing Steve to bump right into you, ill-prepared for the sudden halt. As he quickly apologized, he steadied his hands on your shoulders for the briefest of seconds, just as suddenly snatching them away as if he’d been burned by you.

You spun around to face Steve, his body so close to yours that you practically bumped noses in the process; your eyes widened nervously, taking in his handsome face as you tried to keep yourself composed. Steve’s string of repeated “sorry”s tapered off, his mouth ajar as his eyes grew larger, too, gaze bouncing around your face rapidly.

“Well,” You started in what you hoped was a confident, disinterested tone, “we close in about five minutes… so if you plan on buying something, you should probably go check out.”

Steve nodded dumbly as he looked between your eyes before he dropped his gaze towards the ground; you realized he had absolutely no merchandise in hand, “Uh huh, yeah, I’ll do that.”

You licked your lip, taking in the pretty way his hair fell in his face and the unsure look in his eyes. For a moment, you became engrossed in him, feeling your own expression soften the longer you stared. But just as quickly, you shook yourself out of it, trying to speak with an air of finality that simply didn’t land, “I… hope you have a good holiday?”

Steve looked up at you through his lashes, though you turned quickly to continue walking away before you could get caught up in his eyes. But apparently he wasn’t ready for the conversation to end just yet, because he followed after you and continued, “Sorry, wait--”

You paused with a deep, nervous sigh, getting more and more edgy as the moments ticked by. What could this clean-cut, vanilla guy possibly want with someone like you?

You spun again, crossing your arms comfortingly in front of you while raising a brow; you realized after you’d done it that you probably looked pissed and defensive rather than nervous. When you didn’t say anything, Steve tripped over himself while trying to find his words, cheeks tinged with pink as he looked anywhere but your eyes.

“Look, I know I’m holding you up and you probably want to get home to your family or a boyfriend or something, I mean, it’s Christmas Eve, of course you’d have plans,” he started quickly, and there was something so damn charming about it that you couldn’t help the way your eyes lit up, gaze softening as you studied him; even still, your heart beat quickly inside your chest, “but I just, uh, I’ve seen you around the mall and thought I’d… introduce myself.”

Steve finally looked between your eyes again, and it appeared that your expression only made him more anxious, because he began yet another spiel, “God, that makes it sound like I just go around introducing myself to every damn person in the mall. I don’t - honestly that would be a lot of work - I mean that I wanted to talk to you specifically, you know.”

You couldn’t help the surprised grin that tugged at the corner of your mouth, absolutely taken aback by the unexpected personality behind the handsome face. Considering that you’d only ever watched Steve from afar and barely interacted with him once before, you let yourself think he was some uninteresting, dull guy. That little assumption made it so much easier to ignore the desire to stare at him, to forget about him more often than not. Now that you were so close and seeing his actual personality come through, he was, unfortunately, winning you over far too easily for your liking.

“Oh, you’re smiling, that’s good,” Steve said, his eyes growing larger as if he hadn’t planned on saying that out loud. Pushing his hair back in a fluid motion, he looked around the store while trying to take a deep breath, “You’re kinda scary, you know that?”

An unexpected laugh escaped you, your rigid posture relaxing a hair more, “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Steve held up his hands as if he were approaching a skittish animal.

“I know.” You responded without thinking; once again, your goddamn nerves were making you come across like a total bitch, “Uh, usually it makes people less interested in talking to me.”

There was something of a frenzied look in Steve’s eyes, and you realized that maybe your blunt attitude was causing him panic. His posture had grown a touch more tense than it already was, and your fear of fucking up was causing a chaos of butterflies in your chest.

But in that same moment, you remembered that you were still on the clock and desperate to close the store, your mind going back into work mode as you hissed a small “shit” beneath your breath.

“Look, I gotta close,” You started, catching the way Steve’s face fell in defeat. You quickly added in what you hoped was a more friendly tone than the one you’d been using all night, “but, uh… it was nice talking to you.”

Your expression furrowed with uncertainty, looking between Steve’s eyes as you awaited a possible acceptance or rejection to what you just said. Mirrored back to you was his own trepidation and doubt, as if he hadn’t quite understood what you said.

When he didn’t respond right away, you raised your brows questioningly, “Maybe… we’ll chat sometime?”

The question prompted Steve to nod quickly with a slightly improved look on his face, though he still seemed dumbfounded, “Yeah yeah, totally.”

You stared at each other for a long, awkward minute, neither really knowing what to say or do next. The tension between you filled your head with concern, and you were growing more and more confused the longer that you lingered.

“Well, uh… bye.” You said dumbly before awkwardly turning your back, walking deeper into the store so you could take even just a minute to calm the fuck down. You pulled a critical face at your own stupid behavior, muttering about how crudely you handled that pathetic excuse of a conversation. You tried to shake it off, knowing that you still had to get the rest of the customers moving so you could lock the damn doors, but you feared Steve would be a nagging little distraction in your mind until you finally made it back home.

Despite knowing better, you couldn’t help but look back over your shoulder apprehensively - you weren’t sure if you wanted to meet Steve’s eyes, or if you were hoping he’d already walked away. A jolt of anxiety shot up your spine when you found that he was still watching you, looking to be in deep consideration as if he was trying to make sense of that frazzling interaction. You both startled and turned away from each other at the same time, and all you could wonder is if you had fucked up enough that you’d scared Steve away.

When you finally had Spencer’s closed for the evening, you walked out in a group with your coworkers, everyone bracing themselves for the cold, teeth chattering and arms shivering. The parking lot was still littered with a couple dozen cars as you all moved together - clearly other Starcourt employees were stuck working even later than you.

You were barely listening to the eager conversation happening between the others, who were discussing their plans for the holiday; stupidly, you were still hung up on your conversation with Steve. Your day had already been stressful and shitty, so totally biffing that interaction was yet one more dumb notch in your belt. You really shouldn’t have gotten yourself worked up over it, but your nerves clearly had other plans, because now it was the only thing you could think about whether you liked it or not.

The group eventually all went their separate ways as you continued meandering to your stupid little car, not in any rush to get back home. Packed snow crunched beneath your feet as pretty flakes stuck to your face and hair; although it was cold, the night was still and the temperature almost soothing after the long day you’d had.

Unlocking your car, you carelessly tossed your bag into the passenger seat and slid behind the wheel, fumbling with the key as you tried to slot it into the ignition. But once you turned the key, all you got was a sad sputtering sound from the engine, which filled you with instantaneous dread. You paused for a moment before trying again, yet once more, the car wouldn’t start.

Really? One more goddamn thing to worry about tonight. Grumbling and huffing, you kicked the door open again and popped the hood of the car, though what you were looking for you had no idea - you knew absolutely nothing about cars, hell, you could barely put air in the tires without it becoming a whole goddamn ordeal.

With your hands braced on the lifted hood, you stared down into the old engine as if you’d miraculously figure out what needed to be done; you tried to take deep, calm breaths so that you wouldn’t freak out unnecessarily, but you could feel that impulse slowly bubbling up inside you.

To let out some of the frustration, you kicked the front bumper, your heavy boot protecting you from feeling any pain on impact. Your arms fell with defeat to your sides, because, unfortunately, simply staring at the engine did nothing to resolve the problem.

Around you, other cars left the parking lot slowly, but no one made an effort to stop and offer you assistance, not that you were really expecting any help to begin with. Headlights reflected off the glistening snowy surfaces, frost and ice crackled under tires, and you stood there like some sad, pathetic ghost of Christmas whatever-the-fuck.

“Need a hand?” A voice called from behind you, taking you by surprise, considering that you assumed the driver was simply going to pass by and ignore you. You sighed deeply to get your stress under control, because without looking you already knew exactly who it was that offered you assistance; at this rate, it was damn near ridiculous and ironic that he’d be the one to show up to your rescue.

You turned slowly to face Steve, hoping you didn’t look too pathetic as a small glare settled in your eyes. He hung out the window of his car, brow knotted with worry as he looked between you and your shitty vehicle; you leaned your rear against the front of your car, crossing your arms to protect yourself from both the cold and Steve.

“You’re not following me, are you?” You jested with little amusement, because what else were you supposed to do after the shitty day you’d had?

“Not on purpose.” Steve answered simply, pulling in next to you and putting his car in park, “Battery?”

You shrugged with a melodramatic sweep of your arms, a defeated, sad laugh escaping you, “Who fucking knows.”

There was a decisiveness to Steve’s expression as he climbed out of his vehicle and popped the hood, opening the trunk and digging out some jumper cables. The focused look on his face helped to ease you despite the way your night was going, and it very nearly made you smile through your frustrations.

“Well, let’s hope this works.” Steve said as he hooked up the cables, double checking his work along the way to make sure he didn’t blow up either engine. Eventually, he pointed towards your driver door, “See if we can get this started up.”

You nodded quickly as the two of you slid into your respective driver's seats, Steve starting his car up first; but after three attempts, your damn car still wouldn’t start, and you slumped back into the seat, groaning loudly while tugging at your hair in frustration; god, what kind of shit luck were you dealt?

Steve came up and leaned in the open door frame, eyes sympathetic as he gazed down at you; you didn’t even have the energy to be nervous about his close proximity or the gentleness of his gaze. A weak laugh escaped you as you shook your head, “As if tonight couldn't get any worse.”

You met Steve’s eyes, looking between them pitifully as the cold of the evening began to seep into your bones. He stared back sympathetically, his expression troubled by the fact that he couldn’t fix the problem for you. Despite all your earlier nerves and awkwardness around him, all you felt right now was amity between you two.

“Thanks for trying.” You sighed, resting your head back and staring absently at the ripped and tattered ceiling. You swallowed down the upset lump in your throat, “I meant what I said earlier - about wanting to chat sometime, I mean.”

A faint smile graced Steve’s lips as he glanced down at his feet a moment, meeting your eyes again kindly, “Bet you weren’t expecting it to go like this, though.”

You shook your head while closing your eyes as a smirk dared to tug at the corner of your mouth, “Not in the slightest…”

Steve wet his lips as his brow furrowed again, looking around at the parking lot that was growing emptier as the minutes ticked by. His face was contemplative for a long beat before he brought his attention back to you while taking a deep breath, “Let me give you a ride.”

You balked at the suggestion, shaking your head quickly, “You really don’t have to do that, I’ve caused you enough trouble--”

“What else am I supposed to do, leave you stranded here?” Steve interrupted, raising his brows for emphasis, waving his hand in a “follow me” motion as he stepped back. You stayed planted in your seat, watching him with uncertainty; Steve gave you another look when you didn’t follow, “Come on; gives us a chance to chat some more, right?”

You hesitated a couple moments longer, but eventually you scooped up your bag and stiffly climbed out of the car; Steve was already in the process of unhooking the cables and closing your hood. As you awkwardly stood there waiting for him to finish, he studied you from the corner of his eye, which prompted your brows to furrow as you went on the defensive.

“You better not be kidnapping me.” Your statement caused Steve to laugh and shake his head at how ridiculous that notion was; he closed the hood of his car next and rounded to the driver’s side.

“You’re scary, remember? I don’t have the balls to kidnap you.” You couldn’t help but smile gaily at his response, which seemed to please Steve, as an equally delighted look crossed his face, “Oh, another smile, good.”

You rolled your eyes, though you were nonetheless still fascinated by how nervous Steve seemed to be around you. As you stared at him for a brief moment, he chewed the inside of his cheek and made another hand gesture before ducking into his car, “Come on, it’s getting cold.”

So, you followed his lead and slid into the passenger seat, though once you closed the door it was like another wave of tension washed over you - stupid as it seemed, you found there to be something so personal about being alone in a car with someone you barely knew. Your posture grew stiff almost instantly, eyes staring straight ahead into the snowy night as Steve cranked up the heat and began a slow crawl across the parking lot.

“Where am I heading?” Steve asked while glancing over at you; you kept your eyes forward as you told him your neighborhood. For a very long minute, the two of you were silent as the strangeness of this scenario dawned on you both. Steve cleared his throat, “Sorry about earlier.”

You glanced over at him with a confused look, trying not to shrink nervously when he turned to face you, “What do you mean?”

“I was bothering you at work,” he started with a shrug, “kinda wasted your time.”

Timidly, you looked back towards him again, thankful that his eyes were back on the road, “You weren’t bothering me.”

Steve made a face as if he didn’t believe you, “Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”

You hummed in acknowledgement of your earlier attitude, forcing yourself to be a little more communicative so he couldn’t misinterpret you again, “We didn’t really get the time to talk much… and I was nervous.”

Steve laughed, an inviting sound that drew both an amused and confused look across your face. He glanced at you again, shaking his head humorously, “You, nervous? That’s not the impression I got at all.”

The corner of your mouth tugged up as your eyes looked about his face, “Then what impression did you get?”

Steve took a breath, searching for the right way to phrase this, “That you didn’t want to talk to me in the slightest.”

“Oh.” You answered dumbly; when Steve shot you another look from the corner of his eyes, you tried to find your words, “No, I did want to talk to you… just didn’t know how.”

A far too charming smile spread across his lips as he turned to you again, “Didn’t know how?”

“You’re a little scary, too.” You shrugged with a faint grin, which grew larger at the amused twinkle in Steve’s eyes; again, he laughed, a sound that you could easily get used to.

“Never been told I was scary before…” He focused on the road for a long beat, fingers lightly drumming on the steering wheel as he mulled that thought over. Evidently, it prompted another question, because he gave you another curious glance, “Why were you scared of me?”

Your brows rose as you opened your mouth, but you hesitated before any words could come out. Nerves started to drum in your chest again as you felt heat rising up your neck and into your cheeks; and with the way Steve patiently kept looking over at you, the heat became even worse, “I, uh… no reason.”

Steve’s face twisted with suspicion at your lack of an explanation, narrowed eyes shooting a critical look in your direction. Feeling the intensity of his stare, you kept your unblinking gaze on the road, watching the snow falling gently in front of you.

Steve mulled your answer over, recalling that first day he caught you staring, the time you came to Scoops, and finally your first conversation earlier this evening; of course he could suspect reasons for why you would be nervous or hesitant, but he also wasn’t stupid enough to assume anything about you either.

“Well,” he cleared his throat, drawing on all that confidence he once harbored back when he was still King Steve, when he could land any girl he set his sights on. Though that was a side of him that he hadn’t seen nearly this entire year, he figured he had to shoot his shot eventually, “I can tell you why I was scared…”

The way he trailed off made you curious, although there was something dubious about it. You looked back towards him with a knot between your brows, and now that he had your attention, Steve’s face lit up, his smile almost causing you to drop your guard.

“I’ll tell you, but then you have to tell me why you were scared.” You shook your head with an unamused laugh, knowing that when the other shoe dropped it would be something like this. Despite yourself, you grinned, still falling for Steve’s charm even when he had you backed into a metaphorical corner.

“Oh, you wanna know real bad, huh?” You teased, because really that was your only defense between Steve and the nervousness that was crawling over you again. He gave you a short nod, his expression taunting and challenging.

“I mean, the least you could do is tell me, considering that I’m giving you a ride and all…” Steve’s unexpected playfulness took you aback, causing you to gape for a moment, which only seemed to amuse him even more. You tried to relax your expression, to put up a front of disinterest, but it was far too late for that, “So?”

You rolled your eyes and smirked, even as your heart stuttered; shit, you did not want to tell Steve what you thought of him. Maybe you could come up with a convincing lie, or maybe you could just intimidate him again until he gave up. But admitting to the fact that maybe you were crushing on him, that this ordinary pretty boy was somehow winning you over? Nope, that was something you did not want to do.

And yet… why had he come to talk to you in the first place? Why did he want to introduce himself, why was he so willing to help you on Christmas Eve when he should be off somewhere with family or a partner? Your curiosity was growing by the minute.

“Fine.” The word left your mouth before you could second guess it. Steve looked at you almost in disbelief, as if he had convinced himself you wouldn’t take the bait; you stared back, hoping your eyes didn’t give away your hesitation. Despite the warmth in the car, you shivered with nerves and apprehension.

Steve swallowed while looking back towards the road, nodding faintly to himself as he considered whatever the hell was going on in his head. You waited, impatience making you fidgety as your eyes practically burnt a hole in the side of his head.

“How much further to your place?” Your expression twisted with surprise, anticipation put to an abrupt halt thanks to the whiplash that came with the question. You studied Steve for a moment before realizing that maybe he was trying to buy some time or simply avoid the subject all together. Now, you were growing evermore curious, opening and closing your mouth smally as you considered whether or not you’d play along.

“Um, five minutes up the road.” You answered, trying to shake yourself from your mild stupor. Steve simply nodded, and you couldn’t help the way you leaned towards him just a little as if you were studying a newly discovered species, “What, you scared now?”

“No.” Steve looked back at you, “Just wanna make sure I don’t miss your house.”

Your faint smile and narrowed eyes made it clear that you didn’t believe him, though he tried to remain convincing. Slumping back into your seat a little, you kept your eyes locked on Steve, studying him and looking for evidence of hesitation. Considering it was per his suggestion that you agreed to admit anything, you couldn’t help but suspect that it was nerves that got to him, regardless of what he said.

Realizing that your brief time with Steve was soon to come to a close, you frowned forlornly, gaze dropping from his face. Considering that this whole night had been a little weird, you weren’t sure why you were so disappointed that it would end, but… perhaps that was because it felt like something was only just beginning, cheesy as that sounded. A part of you felt that if shit stopped now, it wouldn’t get to start up again - whether that was true or not didn’t matter.

Your heart picked up speed in your chest as you turned your eyes back towards Steve, words spilling from your lips before you could even realize what you were saying, “Can we just drive for a bit?”

Steve’s brows rose in surprise as he looked back over at you, his lips parting as if he had a question to ask, though no words came out. Suddenly embarrassed by your silly request, you raised your hands up as if in surrender, though your tone ended up being defensive.

“I mean, only if you’ve got nothing going on. Stupid of me to ask considering it’s Christmas Eve, but I’ve got nothing to go home to so I just thought…”

You weren’t sure what you thought, that was the whole problem. The look on Steve’s face was tough to read as he considered what you said, and, feeling foolish, you melted into your seat a little as your face twisted self-consciously.

“Let’s drive.” Steve finally said with a certainty to his tone, taking you aback as he gave you a winning look, “Where to?”

You shrugged dumbly, still trying to fend off your chagrin. Steve took you in for a moment before returning his eyes to the road and driving towards an unknown destination.

Only a minute later, he broke through the silence again, “So, is no one home?”

You shook your head, though you realized he almost certainly didn’t see it, “Dad works nights.”

Steve opened his mouth to add something, but stopped to mull it over first, “My parents are out of town. No one’s waiting for me at home, either.”

Although your brows drooped down, you gave a good humored smile as you two met eyes, “Hm, and they didn’t take you?”

“They never do.” Steve smirked and rolled his eyes, though you suspected that a part of him wasn’t nearly as okay with that as he led you to believe.

For a long beat, you studied him in silence, enjoying his profile as he focused on the road; you took in the thoughtful look in his eyes, the inviting shape of his lips, the downturn of his brows. God, you shouldn’t have been feeling all these butterflies thanks to some guy you only just met, and yet they became harder to ignore the longer you stared at Steve’s pretty face.

He, too, looked towards you when he had the chance and took you in closely, making you squirm as his dark eyes trailed from your eyes to your lips, down your neck and body before jumping back up. Lucky for you, he still had to drive, otherwise you may have melted under his intense, deliberate gaze.

About a minute into the silence that settled between you two, Steve turned up the radio, just enough to have background noise but not too loud to be disruptive. Coming through the speakers was some classic Christmas song that made you cringe; as if he caught your averse reaction, Steve switched stations, though the pop rock that took its place was no relief to you. You tried to ignore the music, not wanting to be sour about something as unimportant as that.

Although you still felt tense given the quiet that was stretching out between you and Steve, there was a certain comfort in the silence; driving down an empty road, snow falling gently, and a cute boy to keep you company wasn’t half bad.

Again, you found yourself studying Steve’s features, questions and inquiries coming to mind as the minutes passed - what were his hobbies? Was he from Hawkins, or was he a transplant like you? What were his friends like? Hell, what even was his last name? So many things you could ask, and you didn’t know where to start.

Well, there was one place to start, if you were feeling a little mischievous, but even the thought of it made you anxious and antsy all over again.

“Why were you scared earlier?” You blurted out, your own brows rising in surprise; maybe you had to get a better hold of your nerves, else you might keep saying things without thinking.

Steve shot you an apprehensive glance, though he tried to mask it with a smile, “Ah, so my distraction didn’t work.”

“Not in the slightest.” You grinned even as your nerves made it appear sheepish and noncommittal, “And don’t just say it’s because of the whole goth thing.”

“Well, not the whole goth thing,” Steve teased, pleased with himself when he caught you fighting back an amused look. After a moment, though, he sighed smally, looking around at the neighborhood he was driving through; apparently knowing where he was, he took a turn with some destination inevitably in mind.

You pulled a curious face when Steve didn’t elaborate, when his face settled into a decided look; you considered asking again for fear that he was going to find a means of distracting you once more from the question. But quickly enough, Steve pulled into the lot next to a park - it’s playground covered in snow - and you started growing nervous all over again.

With the car in park, Steve finally turned his undivided attention to you, causing you to unintentionally shrink back in your seat a little; there was a sort of safety that had come with him being preoccupied by driving, but now that his eyes were locked on you, your confidence began to diminish just a bit.

The look on his face held a sincerity that took you aback, and even in the relative dark of the night you could see the unsure gleam in his eyes. He took a deep breath before admitting plainly and assuredly, “I was scared because you were cute and intimidating.”

You blinked at him a couple of times as you processed his words, though they made your heart drum loudly enough that it was damn near distracting. As the seconds ticked by and you didn’t respond, briefly stuck in a dumbfounded look, Steve’s expression slowly fell into a look of dismay.

Getting antsy, he fumbled to elaborate, “I was interested in you, is what I mean. I wanted to get to know you, maybe flirt and see if we were compatible, you know, that sort of thing.”

Stupidly, you blinked at him again, feeling heat rising in your face - fuck, he thought you were cute, too. That should’ve been a relief, so why the hell did it make you even more nervous than you were before? You forced yourself to look away from his face as your eyes got big, because shit the butterflies in your stomach were going absolutely crazy right about now.

“You… were interested in me…” You muttered like a total idiot, but at least you finally found your voice again. Gazing up at him through your lashes, the look on Steve’s face was damn near worried as if he were preparing himself for rejection. Chewing on the inside of your lip, you finally smiled, bashfully dropping your gaze even as you tried not to sound as nervous as you felt, “I thought you were cute, too. Never had the guts to talk to you, though.”

A relieved little laugh leapt from Steve’s throat, his posture relaxing as he stared at you wide-eyed, almost as if he didn’t entirely believe you. Looking back up at Steve made your face and ears grow even hotter, his excitement at your response unexpected but nonetheless encouraging, even as you picked at your nails nervously.

“Oh, thank god, that makes this so much easier,” Steve breathed out, causing you to giggle, a delighted sound that was so unlike you.

As Steve continued to stare at you with disbelief, you tried to stop fidgeting with your fingernails, tried to relax the nervous energy in your chest because yes, this should be easier like he said, yet your body’s reaction would lead one to assume you were in all-out panic mode.

“You didn’t have the guts?” Steve asked with a laugh, “You saw how nervous I was to talk to you, right?”

You rolled your eyes with a fond shake of your head, “At least you did it; I figured a pretty guy like you wouldn’t be interested in me.”

“I thought you wouldn’t be interested in me.” Steve found himself staring at your lips, the temptation to lean over and kiss you coming over him abruptly, though he tried to shove it aside and ignore it, “So, I guess maybe I should ask you out now, right?”

You nearly giggled again as you looked between his eyes with a pondering expression, “I mean, we’re already here - alone, getting to know each other…”

Steve laughed smally, his eyes taking you in, “Oh, so this is a date now?”

You raised your hands in a vague, unsure motion, a faint knot between your brow, “Could be?”

Another charming smile crossed Steve’s lips, and you were still astounded at the fact that you could make him grin and laugh so damn easily. The look on his face was sweet as his gaze swept gently over your face, looking between your eyes and your mouth like he was studying you closely; when he finally drew his attention away, it was to stare out the windshield and watch the snow fall.

“You're not what I expected,” he started as you absently began to fiddle with your nails again, “I was worried you’d be mean, or that you’d laugh at me.”

An embarrassed smile drew across your lips as you took the opportunity to enjoy his profile again, “If I didn’t like you, I would’ve been mean… and I did laugh at you, once, when I first saw those stupid shorts you used to wear.”

A chuckle leapt from Steve’s throat as he looked back at you, “Yeah, they’re kinda ridiculous, aren’t they?”

“Your entire uniform is ridiculous.” You laughed gleefully, “But I… liked it.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed teasingly, “Oh, so that’s why you were staring.”

Easily flustered, you diverted your gaze down towards your hands, focusing on the chipped nail polish that you’d been fussing with, your face growing hot yet again,“Well, I just… yeah, okay, that’s why I was staring.”

Steve leaned in close towards you, dipping his head to try and catch your eyes, “If you hadn’t been staring, I wouldn’t have noticed you.”

You glanced up through your lashes, a faint grin on your lips as you met Steve’s attentive stare, “Then I guess we’re both lucky you have nice legs.”

Steve laughed again with utter amusement, something almost like wonder alight in his eyes; you thought he may have leaned in a little bit closer, but you weren’t quite sure. He glanced down at your hands briefly, watching the way you continued to gently scratch at your nail polish before meeting your eyes.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you’re a little strange.” Your brows rose at the comment, and so Steve continued, “Well, wait, don’t get mad about that. What I’m saying is that your energy is really nervous, but you don’t come across like you’re scared at all, you know what I mean?”

You looked between Steve’s eyes, wondering how he had managed to clock you so damn easily. Your nail picking became a little more aggressive as you came to your own defense, feeling jittery as you spoke quickly, “Yeah, I know I can come across pretty bitchy when I’m nervous, it’s landed me in trouble before. I don’t always think when I speak or I don’t know when to shut up, because my head gets all messy and loud, so it’s impossible to think clearly anyway--”

“Can I kiss you?” Steve blurted out with awe in his voice, disrupting your train of thought and causing you to look back at him with large eyes. He even looked surprised at the question, as if it leapt from his mouth without warning or thought; his expression was much like your own, taken aback and confused. He quickly tried to course correct, raising his hands defensively, “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that, that was totally out of left field--”

“Yes.” Steve paused and looked as if he didn’t hear you correctly, brow furrowed while trying to read the look on your face, which was torn between sheepishness and eagerness, “I’d like it if you kissed me, actually.”

Steve, admittedly, had not anticipated your approval of the idea, especially considering how it was asked. He just got so hung up on how damn cute your rambling was that it drew him like a moth to a flame; he wasn’t thinking when the question left his mouth. Shit, you said “yes” and it made his nerves spike, heartbeat eager in his chest as he took in your features a little longer, biding his time so he could calm down.

From where he leaned over the center console, Steve moved in a little closer, looking between your eyes and lips. You mirrored this as if in a trance, body drawing towards him; when you paused, a smile graced his lips as he said firmly but quietly, “Come here.”

You felt a chill up your spine thanks to the simple yet wanton direction, Steve’s delivery of it far more enticing than he probably realized. Despite wanting to kiss him, you felt momentarily frozen as you took him in, hooded eyes becoming enraptured by his lips.

Coming back to yourself, you took a calming breath and moved in closer, and once you were but a few breaths apart, Steve carefully cupped the back of your neck, fingertips grazing through your hair. The touch made you sigh longingly, your body melting in response; a knowing smile graced Steve’s face.

There was a moment’s hesitation between you as Steve’s warm breath brushed across your lips and cheeks; you swallowed down the lump in your throat just before Steve leaned in, closing that short distance between you to capture your lips with his own.

Your body jolted at the feel of his kiss, so soft and tentative, and yet charged with your combined pining for one another. As your body relaxed despite the frantic beating of your heart, your fingertips trailed up Steve’s arm, gently grabbing at his shoulders through the fabric of his coat. His mouth was tender and explorative against yours, touch gentle on the back of your neck as he pressed forth more confidently; you met him with equal need and curiosity, your body growing eager for more as your nerves slowly dissolved away.

When Steve tried to pull back and catch his breath, your grasp became assertive, fingers tightening on his sleeve as your other hand moved to cup his cheek. You felt a small, surprised laugh in his throat, taken aback by your eagerness, though he was just as enamored by it.

He carefully gripped your jaw with both hands, pulling you back just enough for him to take in a gasp of air; you, too, took a deep breath, delighting in the way his lips grazed against yours, the way his thumb lazily trailed along your cheek.

After a beat of consideration, Steve kissed you again needily, fingertips firm along your jawline as a fire lit up inside you. Your lips grew feverish as you leaned in closer, curling your fingers in his soft locks while an eager sound rose in your throat. As you kissed him with zeal, Steve matched your desire, mouth growing urgent against yours, grip becoming increasingly possessive while his tongue trailed along your lower lip. With another hungry sigh, you opened your mouth to him, tongues swirling together impatiently, desperate for one another.

You pushed closer to Steve, though the center console pressed irritatingly into your stomach, causing a faint sound of annoyance to rumble in your chest. Wanting to be so much closer, you broke away from the kiss abruptly, though his lips chased yours, gently nipping at your jawline as goosebumps broke out across your skin.

Finding your voice, you managed to instruct breathily, “Move your seat back.”

A huff of a laugh escaped Steve as he muttered against your neck, “What?”

You gave his hair a tug, directing him to look you in your lusty eye while repeating slowly, “Move the seat.”

He looked between your eyes for a moment before your reasoning dawned on him; he nodded quickly, pulling away so he could slide the seat back, creating enough space between him and the steering wheel for you to slot into. And you did just that, gracelessly crawling over the center console, careful not to crush Steve with wayward limbs or unsteady knees.

Once situated in his lap, you laughed smally at yourself while resting your hands comfortably on either side of his neck. Steve smiled at the way you bit your lip, hands firm as they settled on your hips; his hooded eyes took you in adoringly. Impatiently, your lips crashed onto Steve’s once more, feeling his fingers flex against you, eager little sounds escaping your throat.

Hooking your arms around Steve’s neck, you kissed him yearningly, his hands creating a hot, greedy trail down your back, pressing you flush against him as if he couldn’t get enough. The movement caused your hips to roll against his, making the both of you moan into the other’s mouth from the friction. The way your lips moved together was aching and salacious, tongues explorative and hands grabby as if trying to consume each other whole.

Even as he kissed you and groped at your body lewdly, there was something undeniably tender about Steve’s touch; his lips were endlessly hungry for yours, he held you close as if fearful of letting go. It caused a knot of arousal to twist in your stomach, your body blazing and impassioned after all these months of watching him and wondering what he tasted like.

Steve’s hands roamed your body in a slow, amorous crawl, teasing down your spine and grabbing at your ass, sending an eager shiver through you as if there weren’t all these layers of clothing keeping your skin separate from one another. Your mouths became even sloppier, kisses ravenous as you breathed each other in and tasted each other’s tongues, keen moans passing between your lips to his.

Your own grip at Steve’s neck and hair was growing possessive and domineering, tugging at his locks and scratching his skin enough that he whined shamelessly. Emboldened by the heat scorching between you, your hips rolled once more, slow and deep, making Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your ass as he groaned; the sound was far too encouraging, causing a coil to tighten in your center. You moved to hold his jaw softly in either hand, breaking away from his lips hastily with a big gasp for air.

For a long beat, you stared at one another through lusty, hooded eyes, watching the way Steve licked his lip as he watched the rise and fall of your chest. His lips were so damn inviting, and you wanted to lean right back in for more, yet you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself, didn’t want to be greedy for more than you could take. Steve’s hands gently trailed up your back again, finding a comfortable resting place at your waist, where his fingers drew absentminded circles into the back of your coat.

While staring at Steve’s handsome face, an airy laugh fell from your mouth, your eyes lighting up softly; his brow furrowed in response, leaning forward to tease at your lips, nose gently bumping yours.

“What?” You could hear the grin in his whispered question, causing you to laugh again, your smile causing your lips to brush gently; the intimacy of the moment dared to give you butterflies as you nearly shivered.

You bit the inside of your cheek in an effort not to giggle again, pulling back from Steve so you could trail your thumb along his jaw and to his plush lower lip, “You got a little something…”

Steve looked as if he was about to ask you to elaborate, but the gentle way that you cleaned his lip with your thumb stalled him as a captivated sigh left his throat. He realized then what you meant, noticing the way your near-black lipstick had smudged around your mouth; he laughed, too, while trying not to moan from how much he enjoyed your sweet and careful touch. Once you were certain you’d gotten most of your lipstick off of him, you delicately held his chin as if to inspect your work.

“Is making out with you always going to be messy?” He teased, bringing a hand up to help you with a smear of lipstick that was under your nose. Your cheeks warmed as you fondly rolled your eyes, half-tempted to lean back in for another kiss as if to prove a point.

You hummed smally in your throat, “Only if it becomes a regular thing.”

Steve’s brows rose cheekily as a large smile spread across his face, “Oh, I plan for it to.”

Heat rose in your cheeks again as you bit your lip, laughing faintly while looking away from his eyes as if bashful, “Do you?”

He leaned towards you again, trying to catch your eyes with his, “Well, I’d still like to take you on a real date, so, yeah, I’m counting on this becoming a regular thing.”

Another uncharacteristic giggle left you as a swell of excitement filled your chest, “Then maybe I have to do something new with my lipstick so you’re not wearing it by the end of every date.”

Steve shook his head, hands gently sliding down your neck and to your back as he stared at your lips again, “Don’t change it, I like it too much.”

You leaned in close again, lips grazing with Steve’s as you whispered flirtatiously, “Good, because I think I like kissing you.”

Steve’s nose brushed gently against yours, his lashes tickling your skin as you felt a faint smile on his lips, “You think?”

“Might need to do a little more of it just to make sure.” You planted a teasing kiss against his lips before pulling back, which made his hands grip tight on you as if you were something coveted.

“Well,” Steve’s lips were gentle as they grazed against yours, his voice low and sweet as his fingertips trailed along your back, “should we make sure now? You’ve got me all night, if you want.”

You hummed as if you were mulling the suggestion over, hoping that you were making Steve antsy from the wait. You smiled fondly as your hands wove into his hair, tugging gently as your lips hovered just centimeters away from his; when he tried to kiss you, you pulled back tauntingly, causing a faint sound of impatience in Steve’s throat. Unable to resist the laugh that escaped you, you caved to his desire and you pressed your lips longingly to his.

Addt. Author's Note | I'm currently working on a follow-up to this oneshot because I just can't get enough of these two! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for that, please let me know, I hope to get it out soon!

Tags | @doomsdaybby @eddiernunson @k-yurieee @mediocredreams @raven-hawkins

@thecreelhouse @viviennemcgloine

#thetwelvedaysofpromptmas 🎄#thetwelvedaysofpromptmas #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things

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scarletwinterxx · 5 months ago

Text

cheeks are red like cherries in the spring - choi seungcheol imagine

hellllooooo yes back to back post😅 one thought, why is diet pepsi so cheol coded ??????? cherry???? cross gold chain???!?!?!?! LIKE OKAY MS ADDISON RAE THANK U FOR THE NEW CHEOL ANTHEM

and with that song in mind, here's a cheol scenario HAHA hope you like it!

if anyone want to be mutuals on X, i'm using the same un there😊

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"Cheol, I swear to god get the fuck out of my shirt"

"Your shirt? This is my shirt"

The audacity of this man to argue back, you thought. Who knew a big buff man like Choi Seungcheol would be like a clingy koala, the answer would be you and only you. You're the only one who gets him like this.

Your fiancé knew exactly which buttons to push and when to push them. Like right now, you told him you were catching up on some work you missed while the two of you went on a quick weekend trip but ofcourse he would find a way to be involved somehow.

So here he is, half of his body inside your(his) shirt while you sit on his lap.

You're close to getting your work done but Cheol's being difficult, littering kisses and a few playful bites here and there on your chest.

"Cheolie, please give me five minutes to finish this then I'm all yours. If you don't stop, I'm sleeping in the guest bedroom"

You feel him move out of your shirt, now he's fully facing you. One brow raised and a sulky pout already placed on his lips "You're mean"

"5 minutes or no cuddles tonight"

He scowls before helping you off his lap so he can get off the seat. "I'm setting a timer, done or not I'm coming in here" And you believe him. He's petty like you, maybe because you're both Leos.

He kisses you on the cheek before walking away, closing the door behind him.

You finish the last three emails you had to send before doing a final run through. You look at the clock to see you're cutting it close. Testing to see if Cheol will really come in the room, you wait instead of going out to the living room.

When the clock turns, you hear the door swing open. Everything happening all too fast, Seungcheol already throwing you over his shoulder before you can protest. He walks to the other room where he throws you (gently) on the bed, hands on his hips as he watch you laugh

"You're so petty" you laugh

"And you're so pretty, you know just how to drive me mad huh" he tells you, climbing over the bed until he's on top of you. He slots himself between your legs, tangling them around his hips as he rests his body on you but not fully putting all of body weight on you

"You better not have left hickies on my neck again" you poke him on the cheek

"And if I did? It's not like somebody will come and check" he retorts, then leans down to start kissing your neck again as if to prove a point.

"Cheol, seriously. I can never wear low cut now" your words differ from your actions, tilting your head to the side to give him more room. He smirks against your skin, kissing the same spot over and over again.

He pauses to look at you, eyes looking back at him with so much love and lust it goes straight through him. "You know you have a few moles like from your neck down here" he trails his finger from your neck down the valley of your chest, leaving goosebumps on it's trail.

"Do I?"

"Mhm, and you know what they say about moles? They say that's where you were kissed the most in your past life"

You smile, already seeing where this conversation is going. "Jealous?" you tease him

"Pshhh me? Yes. Actually sometimes it pisses me off thinking someone loved you this much, someone who isn't me"

"But what if it was you?"

"Then good. It should be me. I can't even fathom any other guy loving you more than I do" he tells you, ever so sure and confident of his commitment to you.

"You're cute when you're jealous"

"I'm gonna kiss you here too, over and over again so when we're reborn you get all these moles again I'll be sure it would be because of me"

You stare up at your man, imagining a universe where you're not with him is simply impossible. Pulling him down to crash his lips against yours, he reciprocates the kiss with just as much passion. Like you're the air he's breathing.

When you pull away he speaks again, "I really hope it's me in every universe"

You smile at his words, giving him a more gentle kiss this time. The two of you share a smile and few more kisses before you tell him,

"Love me like this and I'll make sure of it"

#fic #fanfic #svt imagine #svt x reader #svt #seventeen #svt x you #svt scenario #svt seungcheol #svt scoups #seungcheol imagine #seungcheol x reader #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol scenario #cheol imagine #scoups #scoups fluff #scoup imagine

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sunsburns · 3 months ago

Note

just saw your recent post!

can you write yandere dick grayson? (can be a drabble, heacanon, fic or anything i will eat it up because your writing is mwah) it's okay if you don't want to write it, just wanna say this in case you do :)) thanks for taking the time to read this!?

oh my god. (18+, voyeurism)

yandere!dick grayson has a terrible dread knawing in the pits of his stomach whenever he sees you. it comes from his gut, twisting and turning everything in its wake as it slowly crawls up, up and up into his throat, having it close up the second you look his way.

you send him soft smiles and shy waves. he crumbles into dust every single time.

but you're friends. good friends who met through a mutual friend at a bar. friends who get along well, who get brunch together once a week if life doesn't get in the way.

he's your friend and he looks out for you, keeps tabs on you, and remembers the stories you tell him, all the little details. (the chipped nail polish on your left thumb as you wave your hand around while the two of you were grabbing drinks one night. the slight twitch of your lip when you briefly mention how the guy who used to bother you at work suddenly leaves you alone.) dick likes to remember those things about you.

he likes to walk you home, to hug you before you turn around. he likes the way your body presses against his, how your arms wrap themselves around his shoulders and next, his own holding your waist closely. he thinks you fit against him perfectly.

dick only wants to make sure you get home safely, because who knows what could happen in the streets of gotham if a pretty thing like you walks alone in the dark?

there can be creeps lurking, eyeing you, following you. watching, waiting for that split second you turn around—your dress fluttering in the late breeze, the peek of your ass before you push the skirt down and hurry up the steps to your apartment building, waving at dick before stepping inside.

yeah, it would be terrible.

dick never would have considered himself a pervert, he would never call himself that. oh, but that dread that claws at him whenever you're around has him doubting himself sometimes. because how can he excuse his lingering eyes? how can he excuse the bruises on his knuckles after he beats a guy because you mentioned, barely, how he gave you a bad feeling.

well...

maybe he can brush it off because the next day you're huffing over his wounds, touching him, cleaning the crusted blood off of them, kissing the bruise.

maybe he can brush it off as taking care of you. watching you through your wide-open blinds, he can see you sleeping during those late nights on patrol. he just wants to make sure you're okay.

he just wants to make sure that there's no one hiding in the shadows of your bedroom whenever you step out of the shower, skin still wet when you toss the towel aside.

dick thought you were gorgeous. and you are. of course, other people were going to stare, but during the night, late into the after-hours, when you're alone in your bed, he makes sure that no one else can see you.

that no one else can hear the quiet sighs and moans you make when you touch yourself, how flustered you get, how your skin glows in the faint moonlight of gotham while you quiver under the sheets, lips parted and shaking, brows furrowed deeply.

dick makes mental notes of everything you do, every little detail marked to memory.

and yeah, he feels guilty. this clearly isn't how friends work, and there's probably someone getting mugged down the street that he should be helping, but staying by your window seems like a better way to spend the night.

#this is probably ass but i love it anyways to be honest #get y/n and dick back together 2024 #dick grayson #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson smut #richard grayson #nightwing x y/n #nightwing x reader #dc comics #dc comics smut #dc x reader #faye’s writing ⭑.ᐟ

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hotchfiles · 11 months ago

Note

hotch "representing the bau" hotchner x activist!reader who won't stand for bullshit

not like actual conflict cause we know hotch is a very principled guy

more like

"shit i can't shitpost about overthrowing the government anymore cause my boyfriend is the government" vibes

you have no idea how deeply i feel about this i've actually posted about this because i'm very much against all cops and he's a literal fed ! but

You met in the most conventional of ways, which makes the whole thing even funnier to the outside person. A bar. You noticed him the moment he walked in, too downright gorgeous to be ignored, you stare at him completely shamelessly and get a few shy awkward smiles in return while he sips on his first drink and talks to his companion, who you later learned was Rossi.

He will find it later on that you're not really up for games, but it takes him by surprise when you approach him, card in hand with your phone number and the red stain of your red lips on the other side. He's immediately smitten, being flirted with so openly at his age does wonders for his ego and he makes sure to text you as soon as he gets back to his apartment.

The texting back and forth goes for hours, a lot of flirting, you're much more outspoken than he is, but still you find him hilarious, you will be telling your friends he's the funny one between you two (none of them will believe you, but you like having this only to yourself as well).

You talk movies, plays, music, favorite drinks and by 2AM he asks you on a date. It’s perfect from the get go. He's flattering, compliments your choice of clothes, says he likes the lipstick (the same you used on the card he is keeping safe on his wallet), takes you to a nice restaurant.

You tell him since you made the very first move, he would have to be the one to kiss you, he argues he sent you the first text so you should be the one to do it, in the end none of you know who took the first move, you're just sure you were the one to unlock your apartment door, stumbling along with him as you two passionately kissed.

It's not common for this to happen for him, he's too much of a gentleman, sleeping with someone on the first date isn't the gentlemanly thing to do, you're not attached to those norms so even if he tried to argue, your lips glued to his neck as you worked on his belt took his mind off of it.

It's not until the next morning that he really notices your place: The types of books you had, some revolutionary art pieces and it's then he realizes he has no idea what you do for a living. Neither did he tell you he was a FBI agent. You two talked long hours and career wasn't even a topic (that may be why you caught his heart so fast).

You were a journalist, a writer, quite proficient and known for your progressive ideals and less than civil protests, so when you both realize the differences and the conflict it might bring, the first instinct was to pull away. Forget the whole thing. It was only one date after all.

It's a matter of days for the realization that being apart won't happen, your thoughts are filled with him and his voice and the way he touched you and Aaron can possibly detail every curve of your body and the way you smelled as if he was still in bed with you.

There's a mutual agreement of public discretion, you can't have your readers knowing you're falling for a fed, nor does the media needs any more reasons to write about the FBI.

His team knows though, and so does Strauss, she had to be warned of the possibility of your name popping up in some lists. She reads half of your writings after that, highlighting stuff you should not be writing about (you won't listen to her on it) and the compromise you make is to keep all of your opposition material completely professional, no tweets, no tiktoks, nothing of the sort with jokes about overthrowing the government.

"Did you... Did you just cite and use one of Stalin's books as a resource here?" He asks, he's in your bed, blue boxer shorts and white t-shirt on, completely comfortable with you already, his reading glasses sit on top of his nose like an old man and he furrows his brows, looking up at you. Aaron's interested in what you write, he truly reads whatever you hand him just to learn more about you, he's not the one to try to censure any of it.

"Well yeah... His writings are the easiest to comprehend on the topic." You shrug, not understanding the tone of his question at first.

"Honey... You can't just... Do you know how many... Forget it. Your editor will love it." His poor attempts to talk you down failing each time he looked over and saw your expectant eyes as his opinion is important to you. You smile at his defeat, taking the papers from his hand and throwing somewhere else in the room, his glasses go to the bedside table and soon you're kissing any of his worries away.

#lari writes sometimes #THIS GOT TO ME OKAY #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years ago

Text

𝐂𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘.

DAY SIX OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: slasher au (still takes place in the tlou'verse) + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, soft dark fic, horror, murder mystery

summary: bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in jackson. as the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.

word count: 10k (i don't know what happened)

warnings: dubcon at the end, knife kink, descriptive canon typical violence, blood & mild gore, grief and death, an unpleasant guy hitting on you, murder, face-sitting, throat-fucking, mutual oral sex (69), dirty talk, possessive!joel, exhibitionism (tommy watches very briefly, he also kisses you in a platonic way), sex in the woods, piv, Joel is actually quite nice if you exclude the murders, mild breeding kink, size kink, little bit of blood kink

a/n: the owl mask joel wears in this to hide who he is is inspired by @softlyspector's post about the tawny owl mug joel uses in tlou part 2 which I still get sad if I think about it for too long 😭

Bodies have been dropping dead all around you long before the outbreak.

Maybe not in the everyone-you-know-is-getting-infected-and-killing-people type of way, but more so in a death-never-felt-like-a-stranger-to-you sort of way. Yet, you still don’t know how to deal with death. Your grief is as violent as a butterfly flapping its wings; the strength of it non-existent but you never know where, or when, it’ll cause a storm.

First, it was your grade school teacher. You didn’t have a particularly strong bond with her but you did like her. You still remember how your friend's voice quaked as she gave you the news on a landline. You couldn’t believe it and had to accuse her of making a joke, even though you knew she would never joke about something like this. Then your dad took the phone from you and you just assumed your friend's mom did the same. The next week, when you went back to school and the funeral was now behind all the children in the classroom, the custodian cut the last tablecloth your teacher had used for her desk and gave a piece to each and every one of you. It was a vibrant orange cloth with daisies scattered around – ugly, but you still cherished it.

Then it was your pets, grandparents – there was also the time when your pet-crazed neighbor adopted another smaller dog while she still had two untrained, over-energized dogs, and the two twins ripped the other dog apart. You had seen the carnage. By some miracle, that small, fluffy dog named Sugar was still breathing, alive. You had held a blood bag over the dog's head, hoping that the small animal wouldn't die.

She didn’t die that day, but it sure as hell left a scar on you.

As a kid, you never seemed to quite grasp the ways of grieving. You didn’t get angry. You didn’t cry. You just. . thought about it. However, the emotions came differently when you became an adult. Now when someone close to you died, you felt it more violently, oddly enough you still fought against the tears and only cried when you were alone.

On Outbreak Day, you lost everything.

Your family, your friends—your life, now it was all about survival, but survival towards what, you didn’t know. You killed for it, fought for it. Yet every move you made felt automatic like you were wired to at least try and survive — to wait it out and not be left behind when civilization rebuilt itself once more.

You made some friends along the way and lost some friends too. You locked their faces and their memories in your heart, only unlocking the box when you were truly and utterly alone.

Then you found Jackson.

And you met Joel and Tommy Miller.

Your official title is scavenger but you much prefer to label yourself as an explorer instead.

You’ve adapted to your quite well life at Jackson. You go beyond the borders, sometimes alone and sometimes with other fellow explorers, and gather supplies or try to pinpoint other locations threats might be lurking in. You’re about to go on another trip, this one shorter than your regular one to two-week expeditions, but before heading out you decide to stop by the only bakery in Jackson named The Last Crumb—previously named The Cordyceps Crumb but Maria decided it was in bad taste. You, on the other hand, had found it funny and topical.

As you patiently wait in line, your camping bag waiting for you outside the bakery, someone bumps into you from behind, then never moves back.

You turn with a raised eyebrow, not enjoying the close proximity, “Excuse you,” you snap. The man looks at you with a hint of mischief in his eyes, you roll your eyes when you recognize the face. “Move back a beat Tucker, I’m not in the mood this morning.”

“Someone didn’t get her beauty sleep,” he grins but moves away regardless. “Want me to come with you this time? Sweet thing like you alone out there? It’s ain’t right.”

“You can barely aim. Why would I want someone that’s most likely to get me killed around me?”

“I think you’ll find my company to be plenty entertaining.”

You’re about to gag when the bell of the bakery chimes, the sharp sound echoing through the wooden walls. Your face must've shown immense signs of relief because Tucker turns around to see who you're looking at. His instant frown makes you want to laugh and chuck him between the two men you’d describe as a wolf den.

“Well, if it ain’t the Miller brothers,” Tucker tuts, attempting to give one of them a friendly pat on the shoulder. He stops midway when Joel’s gaze flits between you and him, his glare hard enough to cut diamonds.

So he ends up slapping Tommy’s shoulder instead, which isn’t the best thing since you know the younger Miller hates Tucker. But among the brothers, he’s probably the one with less probability of getting your hand bitten off.

“Mornin’ Tucker,” Tommy answers, forcing a smile.

Joel is less friendly, his words directed at you, “Is this dumbass botherin’ you again?”

“I wouldn't exactly call a greeting among friends “botherin’,” Tucker says. “We’re just catchin’ up, no need to get your panties in a bunch Miller.”

“God, you’re one word away from ruining my morning,” you hiss, glaring at the unpleasant man. “And we’re not friends.”

His brows furrow, eyes going hard with an ugly snarl accompanying them, you feel braver when Tommy and Joel are around so you hold his gaze, not flinching away.

Tommy is the one to ease the tension. He lays a hand on Tucker’s shoulder and squeezes, drawing the man’s attention away from you. “I’ll get you what you want a’right Tucker? It’s on me. Just go wait outside.”

“But—”

“Outside, Tuck,” Tommy repeats and you shudder at his tone.

Tucker’s shoulders drop, defeated, “Fine, get me a raisin bagel.”

He doesn’t wait for Tommy’s response and heads out the bakery. You finally release the breath you’ve been holding, your muscles relaxing along with the exhaled breath. Joel is by your side in the blink of an eye, his broad shoulder brushing yours providing comfort.

“You sure you’re a’right?” he asks, gently curling fingers under your chin. “The prick didn’t do anythin’?”

“Nah, nothing. He’s all bark but no bite. He asked if he wanted to join me today as if that buffoon wouldn’t get me killed.” you shrug, men being assholes was nothing new to you. You’re just glad that in Jackson it seems that there are more good apples than rotten ones. “Too bad even paradise comes with drawbacks.”

Joel snorts as Tommy cuts in, “Maria would be thrilled if she heard you calling it paradise.”

“What are you smiling at? You think you can find anywhere better?” You playfully nudge Joel with your elbow. “You know there’s nothing but hell out there.”

“I do, I just think callin’ here a paradise is a bit of a stretch is all.”

The line moves and the three of you are finally at the counter, “You’re just a grump,” you tease Joel before turning your gaze to Poppy, the barista who knows everything about everyone. “Hey there, Poppy, the usual please.”

“And a damn raisin bagel,” Tommy adds.

“Well, isn’t it my favorite trio,” Poppy grins. “I’ll get all that ready for you in a second,” she locks her blue eyes on you and leans closer, you mimic her by instinct. “By the way have you heard of Ian? He wound up dead right outside the chopping block, an axe right through his chest.”

You frown, “Good morning to you too, Poppy. Jesus Christ.”

“I’ll confess I didn’t love the guy but isn’t it worrying that there’s a killer among us?” she murmurs while stuffing the goodies in paper bags. “Be careful out there.”

“Well, if the culprit is here I think I might be safer out there,” you say and turn to Tommy. “Does Maria know?”

“Of course, she does,” when you part your lips to say more, he lifts a finger and shoots you a crooked smile. “It’s confidential.”

“Aw man, can’t you just tell us who she thinks it is?” Poppy asks, Tommy shakes his head and she lets out a dramatic sigh, “I miss my murder mystery books.”

“I’ll try to find you something while I’m out,” you say, ignoring the way your heart began to race. Jackson is still a small town, it’s jarring to think someone might be out there, looking for their next target. “Though I think we could all do with a little less murder.”

You hadn’t expected your voice to crack but your tone had betrayed you. Poppy extends you the bag of goods and a latte, as you reach out you feel Joel’s hand on your waist. His lips touch your ear. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m sure whoever it is is only goin’ after those who deserve it.”

You lock your eyes with him, blinking heavily at the weight of his words. His voice had dropped, nothing but gravel as he whispered the words into your ear. A cold sensation slithers down your spine, chilling you to your core and making your throat tighten.

His hand never leaves your waist as the three of you head out, and after a while, that chill slowly dissolves into a pleasurable warmth.

You find solace in the woods. You love Jackson, but being in the woods away from everyone and everything makes you feel comforted. The first time you went scavenging, there was a slight fear in your movements; no matter how good your aim was, any kind of infected was difficult to kill.

But now you walk with ease. There isn’t an ounce of worry in your bones. The trees rustle happily and the smell of flowers and pine fills your nostrils. You can feel your lungs rejuvenating with every breath. Trickles of orange sunlight pour from the gaps of the trees. The sun sets, meaning you need to set up camp soon.

While unpacking, you think of this morning. How Joel and Tommy stepped in when Tucker started bothering you. Honestly, you didn’t need their protection; Tucker is just one of those men who think they might have a shot if they bother you enough times. Still, it was nice to be claimed in a way, to be accepted into a family and cared for.

Your breath hitches slightly. Tommy, you see as a close friend, a brother perhaps, but Joel... Joel is another thing. Just thinking about him is enough to start a wildfire between your legs. You wish you were brave enough to do something about it, though. Whenever you two patrol together or stay awake late at night drinking, you always chicken out in the end. It doesn’t matter how his hands linger on your thighs or his eyes drop to your lips; you're just never convinced that the Joel Miller would be interested in you beyond a friend.

An unease starts to settle in the pit of your stomach. As the air grows colder with the approaching night, your skin prickles and you feel the phantom sensation of claws dragging down your back. You set the tent as quickly as you can, your eyes darting around the depths of the forest. Briefly, you bend over to adjust the ropes.

A breath warm and damp ghosts the back of your neck and you jump, gun in hand as you turn around only to find—

Nothing.

And no one.

Your heart is hammering in your chest, adrenaline pumping in your veins, a drop of sweat trickling down your forehead. You've never had a trigger finger, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to just shoot every shadow you see.

“Dammit Poppy,” you mutter, annoyed that she gave you the brutal knowledge of Ian’s death right before you were heading out. Guilt stings at your heart. Ian was an asshole for sure, and you don’t exactly feel bad that he’s gone, but still, it was an eerie thought that someone had murdered him so violently. It had to be personal.

Some part of you wishes Joel was here, or even Tucker, just another human being to tell you you’re just seeing things.

You take a deep inhale and follow it up with a long exhale. You’re fine. There’s no one here.

You give your surroundings one last suspicious look before going back to setting the tent.

No matter how hard you try you can’t shake the feeling of someone watching you amongst the shadows.

Joel hears crickets and owls. The night had always been his friend since the outbreak. He had become a violent man with an equally violent heart. He waits in the shadows, watching. Laughter and playful shouts echo from the bar, and soon the door swings open; the man he's been waiting for crawls out of the establishment, shit-faced. The drunk man shouts his farewells and staggers toward his home.

Joel follows, his mask heating up the skin that lays underneath. His fingers itch with the need to wring that asshole's neck. One by one, he had been cleaning Jackson for the better. His tendencies subdued while also doing some good. Ian was one of those people who deserved it and Joel had enjoyed the chase, the pleas, he especially enjoyed the way he tripped and cried right before he sunk the blade of the axe through Ian’s chest.

Tucker trips, making Joel want to laugh. The idiot might not even realize he’s being hunted. Joel looks around, they are far enough for the chase to begin. Tucker continues to slip and fall as he attempts to get up. Taking the opportunity, Joel walks towards him with quick steps, making sure the first thing the asshole sees is his mask.

Tucker notices him before he gets up, his hands bracing the ground, his eyes go wide, “What the fuck?”

Joel only tilts his head. He sees the trembles rolling down the other man’s body, he relishes in his fear.

“Look man, I don’t want any trouble, whoever the fuck you are so. . . scram.”

Joel’s eyes dart to his hand on the dirt, without a second thought he lifts his foot and curb stomps Tucker’s hand. Then he kicks the side of his face, an audible crunch echoing before his scream could. The man whimpers and falls back in his attempt to crawl away. He holds his jaw, blood streaming down his broken nose.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

He steps closer and watches as Tucker’s eyes bug out. He’s too drunk to properly run away or even scream. Such an easy target. He grips the other’s hair and lifts him to his feet, he can feel the strands starting to rip from his scalp one by one, Tucker’s face twisting in pain. “Your worst fuckin’ nightmare,” Joel answers eerily calm. It doesn’t matter if Tucker recognizes him. He’d be dead soon enough anyway.

“P-Please,” he begs, realizing the same thing. “I’ll do whatever you want promise. I don’t want to die.”

Joel grunts, not dignifying his pleas with an answer. Lifting his other hand, his knuckles connect to Tucker’s face with a loud crunch, body flying to the ground headfirst.

He pulls out his knife and drops down, ignoring the ache in his knees, he grabs Tucker’s arm and aligns the sharp blade against his wrist. Tucker notices, his face going pale as a ghost. “D-Don’t—”

Joel doesn’t bat an eye as blood spurts violently over his clothes and the dirt. Drops of crimson seeping into the fabric. The knife cuts through the flesh like butter, severing hand from bone. His hand clamps over Tucker’s mouth. Joel smiles as his screams bounce off of the palm of his hand.

You come back to Jackson hand empty and earlier than intended. You were too much at unease, and being so jarred wasn’t the best while scavenging for supplies alone. During your trip, you did end up scribbling something for Poppy. It wasn’t finished but you hoped she would enjoy the first draft of the first chapter. It was mostly descriptions of what you felt, a cat-and-mouse game between two people who had bumped into each other accidentally.

While heading into Jackson, you notice a crowd in the distance. You promptly get off your horse and walk with haste. You recognize Joel and Tommy easily, both brothers standing on each end of the crowd like gates keeping a herd of sheep in check. Ellie is standing right next to Joel, lifting herself on her toes to see; Joel is holding her back by gripping the cap of her hood.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

Joel turns to you, his eyebrows raising when notices it’s you and not some random person he has to ignore, “You’re back,” he says. A statement rather than a question.

“Yeah, wasn’t feeling that well,” you shrug him off. “So what happened?”

His eyes turn to steel, his jaw locking in place. Before you can ask again, he gestures for you to move up the crowd with a tilt of his head.

“Lucky,” you hear Ellie murmur as you walk ahead, gently pushing those who were looking at the sight with concern. With every step you take, the murmur of the crowd fades into the background, becoming nothing more than white noise. Maria is addressing the crowd, you think, though you're not entirely sure. The scent of blood is thick in the air, disorienting you as you get closer.

Your eyes go wide, the earth slips from beneath you but your expression remains emotionless.

It’s Tucker.

You feel as if you’re standing alone. As if you’re the only one taking in the sight of absolute horror and gore. Tucker is lying in a pile of his own blood face first, his eyes are open and lifeless, his one hand is outstretched like he’s about to crawl away.

His right hand, however, is chopped off.

It’s not even a clean-cut. The edges of his flesh are jagged and crooked, his blood-caked where his hand should be. Whoever did this cut it so it would hurt, so he would suffer tremendously.

You can’t help but gasp, covering your mouth with your right hand. You begin to shake, confusion churning in your stomach as bile coats your tongue. He’s dead. Just like Ian.

When Maria’s eyes find your own, she narrows her gaze, a small warning for you to keep it together. You can’t though. How could you? Tucker was alive and kicking a couple of days ago, just being his annoying self around Jackson.

“Calm down,” you hear Joel mutter into your ear. You shiver at the brush of his lips. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

Safe. You want to laugh. You don’t even know what that word means anymore.

Joel’s mouth moves over the shell of your ear, “He was a nuisance. Don’t feel bad now that he’s dead.”

“I didn’t want him to die,” you hiss back. “And knowing there’s a serial killer out there doesn’t exactly make me feel safe.”

Despite your half-angry tone, you find yourself leaning into Joel’s presence. Your shoulder presses into his broad chest, and without missing a beat he wraps his arms around your shaking frame. Relief comes in the form of warmth spreading along your chest, tingles forming at the tips of your fingers and toes. The voices of the crowd gradually come back but you only hear one of the many questions.

“What do you think the message means?”

Confusion crosses your face, brows furrowing as you try to make sense of it. Joel makes a choked-out sound that could’ve easily been taken as an amused chuckle.

Then your eyes drop to Tucker’s outstretched hand and his dying message written in blood.

O W L

A week had passed since Tucker’s death.

You've been thinking about both murders relentlessly, trying to piece together everything that you know so far. During this time, you're grateful for Poppy, who comes by almost every night to help you try to solve the case. That's been your sole focus for the past few weeks; you haven't been scavenging since you spooked yourself so badly that you returned early, only to find Tucker dead.

Some part of you thinks that the eeriness you felt that day was a sign of what was about to happen. It's also an odd coincidence that he ended up dead the same night he harassed you in the morning. However, there are no forensic investigators in Jackson, so it’s almost impossible to determine the exact time of death. That fact alone makes you anxious. It only means that whoever is killing everyone has nothing to worry about because even if they leave traces, who’s going to know?

In order to keep your nerves in check you end up writing a lot. You haven’t shown any of it to Poppy yet but you’re excited. You never thought writing a thriller would be the perfect way to escape the horrors of your actual life. At least in your stories, you have control.

You also visit Joel and vice versa.

Something had shifted the day he held you as you both gazed upon Tucker’s lifeless body. Maybe it was just you who felt bolder since death was once again right around the corner — or maybe Joel just felt more protective now, wanting to check on you as much as he could.

“You’re really writin’ a whole ass novel?” he asks, pouring you a glass of scotch. You still can’t get over the fact that it nearly tasted identical to the actual stuff. Jackson is truly a miracle; at least when bodies aren’t dropping left and write.

Ellie’s at a sleepover, which means you and Joel have the whole house to yourselves. With everything going on you’d expect your libido to diminish a bit but it’s as strong as ever, ready to go.

You smile as he places the glass in front of you, “Yeah,” you say, picking up the glass and heading toward the living room. “I couldn’t find Poppy anything to read and it helps me relax.”

“Relax, how?” he asks, taking a seat next to you. The couch dips with his weight, and heat crawls up from your chest to your neck when his knee brushes against yours.

“Well, it’s a horror thing. Horror slash mystery? I don’t know—whatever it is, it’s nice to have an outlet to escape what’s been happening lately.”

“So to escape brutal murders you write more brutal murders?”

You chuckle at the way his eyebrows raise, eyes going wide, “I don’t really focus that much on the gore. It’s more psychological, my sweet brute. Things don’t need to have blood to be scary.”

His grin is wide and instant, dark eyes lighting up with amusement, “What did you just call me?”

“I. . .” Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, suddenly realizing what you’d said.

“What cat got your tongue?” he teases. Joel leans closer, fingers dancing along the curve of your shoulder. You can feel the gravel in his voice. “You just called me yours, sweetheart. Does that jog your memory?”

“I also called you brute,” you quip back immediately, cheeks aflame. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Don’t it?” his palm now presses fully into your shoulder, keeping you in place in case you might run. Joel tilts his head slightly, the plush of his lips only an inch away. “I like you callin’ me that,” the pink of his tongue swipes over his bottom lip. “Say it again.”

“S-Say what?”

A small chuckle parts his lips, oddly enough it almost feels like his patience is wearing thin. He comes closer, the tip of his nose brushing yours. “That I’m yours,” he clarifies. “Been waitin’ to hear those words come from your mouth since I met you.”

“You’re mine,” you whisper against his lips, eyelids fluttering but not quite closing. With the confession, you feel the brush of Joel’s lips on yours. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth. You part for him with a moan, and taking the opportunity, he slides inside, tasting every inch of you.

His lips taste and feel like the forests you wander off to; it soothes you, calms your nerves, and has the taste of home. They’re chapped from the sun, yet soft. You can’t have enough of him, if he’d offered, you’d gladly kiss him forever.

Joel parts with a shaky breath, his chest heaving, “And you’re mine,” he groans, his eyes dark with arousal. It’s an involuntary action but your eyes drop to the front of his pants where you see the thick outline of his cock.

Your mouth goes dry, yet you manage to speak anyway, “Are words all you’ve been waiting for?” It’s bold, you’re highly aware, but you can’t help it when he’s this close. His scent suffocating, pulling you to him like a moth to a flame.

He stares at you silently. His thumb touches your bottom lip, slightly tugging it down. He’s not smiling anymore, only observing.

“No,” Joel answers slowly. He leans towards your ears, the thick hairs above his lips tickling your skin. “I’ve also been waitin’ to feel that velvet tongue on my cock, honey. And to feel how tight your throat gets when you take every inch of me.”

Joel blows a puff of air, it caresses your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He brings your hand to the front of his pants, dragging your palm up and down his length. You shudder. The heat of it seeps into your palm despite the thick fabric of his jeans, you lick your lips absentmindedly. “This is all for you sweetheart.”

“Fuck, Joel. . .” your eyes roll back when he kisses your neck, open-mouthed kisses laid upon your skin like a gift. Your nipples tighten and if you look down right now, you know you’ll see them peeking through your shirt.

He reads your thoughts, eyes moving down before meeting your gaze again. “Didn’t know you walked around without a bra, sunshine.”

“I only go braless when I’m comfortable,” you answer. Joel cups your breasts roughly, kneading the flesh, he simultaneously sucks on your neck, teeth nipping the sensitive skin. “Oh god,” the fabric of your panties grows damp and you clench your thighs together.

“Not god,” he says sharply, sinking his teeth into you. “Joel.”

“Joel,” you moan and arch your back, filling more of yourself into his palm. You squeeze his cock, relishing in the way he makes a strangled sound. “I want to suck you off, Joel.”

“Be my guest.”

You push him until he’s lying on the couch. You’re about to unbutton his jeans but he stops you.

“Turn around,” he says.

“What?”

His wide grin nearly stops your heart, “Want to taste that sweet pussy, sunshine. Strip down and take a seat.”

“On—On your face?”

“Where else?”

You’re too embarrassed to speak, tongue suddenly too big in your mouth. Quickly, and a bit clumsily, you strip down and turn before straddling his chest. You don’t need to touch yourself to know that you’re soaked.

You swallow, “I’ve never done this before.”

His hands come up to cradle your hips, urging you to move back towards his face. You feel the blunt sting of his nails.

“That’s alright,” he mutters. “I won’t let you fall if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m more worried about how I’m gonna move, or accidentally suffocating you.”

“What a noble way it would be to go.”

“Joel!” you laugh, playfully smacking his thigh. He answers by giving your hips another squeeze, you surrender and move back until you’re hovering over his face. Your hand planted firmly over his hip bones, you lower yourself. You shudder as his tongue licks a stripe between your folds. He moans into your cunt, pulling you flush against his face.

Meanwhile, you finally unzip his pants and pull his cock out, the heft of it bumping against your nose and lips. You drip at the smell of him and swear he smiles as he sucks on your aching clit, short-circuiting your brain with arousal. His cock throbs in your palm, a drop of precome glistening at the tip. Your mouth watering, you lean forward and clean him off. Another groan echoes within his chest and he thrusts forward, the tip of his cock kissing your lips.

Eyes fluttering closed, you suck on the bulbous head and force yourself to go down until he hits the back of your throat. You wrap a hand around the base, stroking where you can’t fit, and hallow your cheeks.

“Come on, sunshine. You can take me,” he rasps. “You’re mine, aren’t you? That mouth is meant to take me.”

Without waiting for an answer, Joel pushes his tongue inside, your walls clenching around the wet muscle—you let out a loud gasp and grind down, then you feel the sting of his palm against your ass, pain blossoming from where he smacked.

Your throat rattles with a moan and Joel takes the opportunity to drive forward, your eyes go wide as you feel the length of him sliding down your throat, cutting the air from your lungs.

“Oh, fuck—” he moans unabashedly, the sounds sending a pleasurable tingle down your spine despite the strain on your throat. “That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Fuck, fuck—”

Your throat tightens around him, your lungs starting to burn. His hand caresses both sides of your ass, the abrupt pain of the smack from before subduing, “Relax,” he says, swirling his tongue around your clit. “Breathe through your nose. Just a bit more. . .”

Your nails bite into his thighs as you attempt to follow instructions. You relax your throat and slowly begin to breathe from your nose. It’s still difficult, but your lungs rejoice in the minimal amount of air that comes through. You make a mess of him. Saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth and down his length.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he murmurs. “Gonna fuck that pretty throat now and make this pussy come, understood?”

Eyes tearing up, you nod. From the way your stomach convulses, you know that you’re close, your skin tight over your trembling muscles. The nod is all that Joel needs from you. Holding you in place, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself completely down your throat while flicking his tongue against your clit. You scream around him, eyes rolling back as he continues to devour you and take you apart at the same time. He licks you with fat strokes of his tongue, a hint of teeth scraping your folds here and there as he fucks your throat with shallow thrusts.

You’re limp against his broad body, allowing him to use you as he pleases while all you can do is hang on for the ride. Pleasure licks the base of your spine, a searing heat caressing your skin while Joel continues to build you up only for you to fall spectacularly. Your lips start to ache, your throat squeezing around him whenever he snaps his hips forward—

And all hell finally breaks loose.

You come undone with a devastating cry only for it to be muffled by his cock going down your throat. You gush around his tongue, soaking his facial hair and mouth, Joel is underrated, licking and sucking until you’re shaking above him, every bit of tension draining from your body.

Joel comes shortly after, his hand slides from your waist and he manages to reach out in order to hold your head down. You don’t have a choice but to swallow as he spills down your throat, thick spurts of come going down while he shudders and pushes even deeper.

There’s so much of it, cock twitching and throbbing in your mouth until your mouth sucks him dry. You’re lightheaded from the lack of air; you find that it adds to the pleasure that’s buzzing in your veins, your cunt still pulsing with the heft of him still buried in your lips.

He pulls out with a satisfied groan and you manage to scoot down so you’re straddling his chest instead of head. Joel caresses your back, the gentle repeated motion sending tingles down your spine.

“That’s was fuckin’ amazin’,” he says, voice hoarse. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” you answer sounding meek. “I think I need some water though.”

You get off, legs still shaking, but he grabs your hand, halting your movement. “Let me get it for you,” he says, sitting up.

“I’m already up,” you smile as his brows furrow with worry, the expression warming your heart. You quickly bend down to kiss him and he’s quick to lick himself into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. “I’ll be right back.”

You have no idea how you’re standing while feeling like jello but you manage to get yourself all the way to the fridge. You smile at the coolness touching your warmed skin when you open the door. Scanning the interior, you thoughtlessly rub at your throat in an attempt to soothe the ache a little. You grab the pitcher of cold water and notice a bit of apple pie left over.

“Hey, Joel?” you call out. He hums in acknowledgment. “Can I have a slice of pie?”

His humored chuckle follows through, “You can eat the whole damn thing after what you’ve done,” you smile and take the desert out. “Can you bring me a slice too?” he adds.

You smile and place the pie on the counter. The leftover is already two slices give or take so you decide to just take two forks with you instead of dirting a plate. Looking through the drawers, you try to remember which one is the cutlery drawer.

On your second try you find something else.

Something that makes your eyes go wide and heart throb painfully.

Your hands shaking, you pick up the owl mask from the drawer. The surface is smooth, and the color of it a light shade of brown just like a tawny owl. All the pleasant tingles fade away, the buzz of pleasure in your veins replaced by fear and adrenaline.

Heading back to the living room, you show the mask to Joel.

“What’s this?” you ask, your voice betraying your sudden outburst of fear.

Joel looks up, eyes flitting between you and the owl mask. He raises a brow, his confusion evident across his face. “It’s a mask, sweetheart.”

“No no, I know it’s a mask,” you answer, breathless. “But why do you have it?”

“It’s Ellie’s,” he stands up, his pants still unbuttoned but pulled up. You fight the urge to step away, fight the urge to flinch when he touches your cheek. “They were makin’ Halloween masks last year in school. I didn’t even realize we still had it.”

“Really?” you ask and he nods.

“Really,” Joel claims your lips in a chaste kiss, thumb stroking lines up and down your cheek. His hand slithers down your arm to your wrist and when he squeezes, you drop the mask. “Why?” he breathes into you. “Is this about the damn thing Tucker wrote down?”

You remain silent and he pulls away, dark eyes boring into yours.

“You need to relax, sweetheart,” he mumbles. “Why don’t you just allow yourself to enjoy this? You deserve to be happy.”

Your eyes widen with surprise, his words crashing into you, “I. . . Do I do that? Really?”

“It’s normal, darlin’,” he answers. “I’m pretty sure we all have survivor’s guilt.”

You let out a shaky exhale. He’s right. You were just feeling guilty of being alive when so many had died. Joel smiles back and traces the curve of yours with his fingers. “There’s that smile that I adore,” he guides you towards the kitchen. “Now let’s go eat some pie.”

No matter what though, you can’t help but turn back to look at the owl mask one last time as it lays lifelessly on the floor.

“So, tell me about this book you’re writin’?”

You let out a low laugh, “I already told you about it. What more do you wanna know?”

You stare at Joel’s back as he takes the lead, he’d decided to join you in your explorations ever since you told him how nervous you had gotten the last time. You had appreciated the gesture but still felt a tad anxious around him ever since you found that damn owl mask—

A branch snaps into two under your steps and he turns, extending his hand to you. With a smile you allow him to lace his fingers within yours, your stomach jumping a little as he tugs you close so the two of you are walking side by side instead.

“If memory serves me right we got distracted when you told me about it,” he says with that southern drawl of his. “So tell me again what it’s about.”

“Okay okay,” you smile, squeezing his hand twice. “It’s all a big mess now but the premise is that there’s this guy obsessed with this woman and he stalks her and no matter what she does, she always feels like there’s someone watching.”

Joel looks ahead, “Sounds familiar. Isn’t that how you felt last time you were out here?”

“Yeah, and it’s when I started writing it.”

“So do these two people know each other?” his tone drops, his fingers suddenly feeling like barbed wire within your hand. You swallow. “I mean in their regular lives, does the woman know that he’s the one stalkin’ her?”

You roll your shoulders, a weak attempt to shrug off the eeriness that you feel.

“Exactly. I think that just makes the whole thing creepier. He’s just a normal guy, even a friend, but he’s also the one among the shadows.”

“Interestin’,” he murmurs. “You think that’s happenin’ to you?”

“I don’t think there’s someone stalking me, if that’s what you’re asking,” you utter every word hastily, your pulse quickening under your skin.

His lips curl in a half smile, “That’s good,” he says. “Wouldn’t want you to be laying awake thinking about what might lingerin’ on the other side of the window.”

“I think I’m more likely to stay awake thinking about infected,” you say with a soft laugh. “But yeah, it’s all fiction. That day I probably just got scared because of what Poppy said about Ian.”

“Probably,” Joel trails off, his steps slowing. “How do you think it’s gonna end?”

“W-What?”

He stops and so does your heart. At least you think it does.

Joel faces you fully, his presence towering, he grips your shoulders and pushes you back until the air is knocked from your lungs by a tree right behind you. Your eyes go wide. He leans in, breath tickling your lips.

“How do you think your book is gonna end, sweetheart?” he asks again, eyes gleaming with something dark. “Is the guy gonna get the girl?”

“I—I don’t know.”

All you can think about is the owl mask and how it would perfectly fit his face. He cocks his head and taking a step closer, he slips a leg between your thighs. Slick gathers at your underwear—he feels the fabric dampening on his leg and grins.

“Fear turns you on doesn’t it?” he purrs. “Wicked thing.”

Relief drowns your senses. So that’s why he got all weird suddenly, he’s just teasing you. With a laugh, your head falls back against the tree trunk, “Jesus Joel, you scared the shit out of me.”

“It ain’t my fault,” he says, nipping at your chin. “You’re easy to scare.”

“Well, two brutal unsolvable murders will do that to a girl.”

Joel lets go and pulls away, smiling as he shakes his head, “What’s it gonna take for you to believe I had nothin’ to do with those? Even in death, Tucker causes nothin’ but fuckin’ trouble for me.”

“You don’t need to do anything, I’m sorry,” you pull him back, relishing in the way his strong arms wrap around your frame. “I’ll stop being such a chicken, promise. I’m still a bit jittery that’s all.”

“I forgive you,” he says against your lips, kissing you quickly before pulling you away from the thick trunk of the tree. “Now let’s find a place to settle down for the night.”

When you two return to Jackson three days later, the first thing you notice is the crowd. Your stomach drops at the familiar sight and instinctively you reach out to Joel, lacing your fingers together. He squeezes your hand two times.

The last thing you should be feeling is relief that now it’s not possible for Joel to be the one killing all those people but alas, that’s all you feel. Relief and love.

The trade fair sprawls before you. Stalls with makeshift awnings, tattered banners, and worn tarps create a patchwork quilt of colors, beneath which a diverse array of goods is proudly displayed. The air is thick with the scent of freshly baked bread, the tang of cured leather, and the earthy aroma of herbs. Laughter, chatter, and the occasional clinking of metal form a lively symphony, a chorus of life that drowns out the ever-present background hum of death and infection.

You’ve always enjoyed the time of the trade fair. People move like busy ants, weaving between the stalls. Children, their cheeks dusted with earth, dart through the crowd, their carefree laughter that should be comforting doing the opposite. Since Tina’s death— she was one of the council members— you had been sleeping at Joel’s. Neither he nor Ellie seemed to mind you staying there.

The purpose of the fair is to exchange goods – to exchange, to connect, to share stories of survival.

Your eyes scan the crowd for Joel's familiar silhouette. He and Ellie had headed out before you since you wanted a change of clothes. Just as your gaze begins to falter, a voice reaches your ears. "Hey!" It's Poppy, she waves you over.

You navigate your way through the bustling stalls until you stand before Poppy. She's leaning against a rough-hewn post, a glint of excitement in her eyes.

“Hey, Poppy,” you greet her with a smile. “I’m looking for Joel, or Ellie, have you seen either of them?”

“Well, Ellie is with Dina, hanging out,” She points to the forest that skirts the settlement. "I saw him heading that way not too long ago."

“Alright, thanks. I’ll see you later then,” Waving her off, you head after Joel.

The trees are a bit more scarce here, there’s more room between them. The forest opens up, revealing a sprawling expanse that stretches as far as the eye can see. It's a stark contrast to the dense woods you often travel to, where the trees stand like guardians, their branches interlocking in a tapestry of shadow and light. Here, the gaps between the trees create pockets of sunlight that dapple the forest floor.

However, the expanses between trees can be deceiving, and without the markers and familiarity of the well-trodden paths closer to home, it's easy to lose your way.

For some reason instead of calling out for Joel, you decide to wander aimlessly. You’re not sure why. You don’t come to this side of Jackson often enough to feel comfortable with your surroundings and shouting his name would definitely be easier than walking without aim.

Soon enough you hear faint murmuring beckoning you deeper into the forest.

Survival instincts kicking in, you slow down your steps, making sure to step onto clear dirt instead of gravel or fallen branches. Hiding behind a rather large tree trunk, you stare ahead. In the distance, you see two men: one with his back against the tree, while the other holds him by the neck, the sharp blade of his knife catching the sunlight and reflecting it directly into your eyes.

You hold your breath and your eyes go wide. You hear the thrum of your heart. It’s the killer. It has to be.

You can’t quite hear them but you can decipher the tone of begging for one's life. The man holding the knife tilts his head slightly, your mouth waters at the prospect of finally seeing the murderer's face—

It’s the mask.

The same mask you found in Joel’s home in the shape of an owl. Your stomach churns violently, bile raising to your throat as you watch on. You rub at your eyes, take deep breaths—anything you can think of that would erase the image before you.

Goosebumps raising across your skin, you shake your head. It can’t be Joel. He was with you the day Tina died and no matter how competent he was not even he could be at two places at once.

A muffled scream echoes within the forest and your eyes snap to the two men, the owl had driven his knife into the flesh and bone. He pulls it out, and the body falls. You recognize who it is; Jacob. You heard his name a couple of days ago from Ellie, he was bothering both her and Dina because they were hanging out.

He’s still alive when the killer stomps his head in, blood splattering across the leys.

You’re frozen in place. Your throat dry and tongue motionless. The killer kicks Jacob one last time for good measure and finally stops. You observe the way his shoulders drop as if a great weight had been lifted off of them, then he looks up into the sky, the golden sun highlighting his mask.

Very slowly, he lifts his hand and takes it off.

Every feeling comes rushing back, too fast and too soon. Your tongue is alive again and so is your body, the world is suddenly vibrant with life and horror. The sun continues to caress the countenance of the unmasked killer’s face, his sunkissed skin the perfect canvas to soak up the light.

Joel.

You take a step back, every thought of precaution dropping from your mind. The forest starts to spin. It spins and spins and spins until the ground slips from beneath your feet. You catch yourself at the very last second.

When you look up you see his gaze staring directly into yours.

“Fuck,” you hiss out, quickly staggering up. The last thing you see before you start running is his extended hand as he tries to reach out for you.

“Wait!”

You don’t. You do the exact opposite of that. You run. You run for your life and those in Jackson at the fair.

You run with memories loud in your mind. How Joel had listened to you, comforted you, fucked you—

Tears sting your eyes. Every part of this feels like a nightmare that you hope to wake up from anytime soon. But as the wind hits your skin, you know that every part of this is very much real. Your chest burns from how fast you’re going, your legs starting to falter underneath you.

Before you can react, an unexpected force slams into you. The impact sends shockwaves through your body as you collide with something—or is it someone?—their presence as jarring as the jolt itself. Your momentum falters, and for a fleeting moment, time seems to slow as you stumble, desperately trying to regain your balance.

Two arms grab at you and without even seeing who it is, you start to push the person away, fighting against it like a wild animal.

“Let go of me! Let go of me!”

“Hey hey hey,” you hear a familiar voice repeat. “It’s me, you’re okay,” you’re shaking all around, only when you feel his hands cradle your cheeks do you open your eyes. He smiles when he sees your eyes flicker in recognition.

“Tommy?” you whisper. He nods and without a thought you jump him, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him close. His arms coil around you in response, promising to not let go. “Oh, thank fuck it’s you.”

“What happened? Are you alright?”

“I—I am okay but—Joel—It’s Joel, Tommy he’s been the one behind all those murders. We need to warn everyone, we need to tell Maria!”

You grab his arm and tug him along toward what you assume is the right way out of the forest. He remains still. Turning around, you shoot him a confused glance. 'Tommy, we need to tell people.'

“Can’t let you do that sugar, sorry.”

“Why. . . Why not?” you let go and slowly step back, heart pounding. “Is it because he’s your brother?”

You wish that was his excuse. Some moral obligation towards Joel because he’s his brother, that you can relate to. Your heart still pounds for Joel and in your brain, you’re still desperately seeking an explanation.

But Tommy allows the silence to linger, your fear and worry quickly turning into anger.

“Fine, I’ll tell them. It’s wrong.”

It only takes a blink of an eye; you feel Tommy’s iron grip around your wrist, yanking you back into his chest. He holds you. Oddly tender for someone who had made your arm nearly fall out of its socket. You thrash within his arms, pulling and hitting his chest.

“We’re doing good,” he grunts. “You gotta see that.”

You refuse to listen, your ear narrowing on the sound of your own blood rush instead of his words. By some miracle, you manage to slip your arm out and punch him square in the chin. It was a weak punch but strong enough to startle Tommy.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart, calm the fuck down—” he tucks your arm back against your body and turns you around so your back is flush against his chest. You’re breathing raggedly, chest rising with every deep gulp of air. His lips touch your ear, his tone menacing, “I really wish you would’ve not done that.”

“Why?” you gasp. “You’re gonna kill me too?”

Silence follows, and with every passing moment sweat beads on your forehead, “It was you wasn’t it?” you continue. “You killed Tina. Joel only came along with me to calm my suspicions.”

Before Tommy can confirm your suspicions, you notice movement within the forest and your eyes are immediately drawn to the shadow coming forth.

“Smart girl,” Joel remarks with a half smile as he emerges from between the trees. There’s a splatter of red over his shirt but the knife seems to be tucked away. For now. “But you’re only half right, darlin’. I came along because I like spendin’ time with you.”

“Is that supposed to make me ignore the fact that Jacob’s body isn’t even cold yet?”

Joel curls two fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze while Tommy continues to hold you back. You shudder against him, a soft sound parts the younger Miller’s lips.

“He was a piece of shit,” Joel grunts. “He was botherin’ Ellie, callin’ her names, he deserved what he was gettin’.”

“So what, you guys are just playing hero? Killing everyone who’s causing trouble in town? There’s a system for that.”

“Honey,” he tuts, an involuntary warmth spreading within your abdomen. “The system didn’t work before the outbreak, it ain’t gonna work now either.”

“We protect our own,” Tommy says from behind you, breath fanning your neck. “We take care of it before it escalates. You have to understand that.”

“And why the hell would I understand?” you hiss, looking directly into Joel’s eyes while addressing Tommy.

Joel smiles, his lips curling slowly, “Because you’re one of us. And you like it when we protect.”

Your lips part with an exhale. He’s right, not that you still agree with them killing people, but you had enjoyed that primal protection coming from the Millers. It made you feel powerful, loved, cared for. All the things you craved deeply.

You ignore Joel and his words entirely, averting your eyes with embarrassment and shame.

“I just don’t understand why you did it, Tommy” you murmur. Tommy tenses behind you, his arms tightening around your frame, drawing the remaining oxygen from your lungs. “I understand the other’s to an extent but Tina didn’t do anything wrong.”

Joel looks towards Tommy, it was his kill after all and the older Miller had nothing to say about it.

“She was wrecking what Maria is tryin’ so hard to build,” he answers. “She’s pregnant, stress ain’t good for her or the baby.”

“Does. . . Does Maria—”

Tommy cuts you off, “No.”

Joel leans closer, mouth an inch away from yours as he parts his lips. “I killed for you,” You hate the way your body reacts to him, wanting to close the distance between you two despite how unsettled you feel. “Ian was a piece of shit, so was Tucker and Jacob. They don’t deserve your empathy, honey. And you can’t deny that you’re glad they’re gone.”

His hair is a delightful mess. Soft locks going in every direction. All you want to do is thread your fingers within and forget about all of this. Joel’s gaze is observant, dark eyes darting all over your face. You don’t know what he sees but whatever it is, he nods to Tommy for him to let you go and he does. Legs lifeless and shaking, he catches you, his warmth welcoming. He’s still tender with you. Hands delicate as they move over your arms, shifting you so you'll be facing Tommy.

Joel’s hand curls around your neck and holds your chin so you can’t look away. You can’t read Tommy’s expression. You’re not sure what he’s feeling. However, you think he looks almost relieved that you’re not fighting anymore.

You shudder as Joel drags his lips down your neck, taking deep breaths of your fear-induced scent. His hands slip under your shirt and cup both breaths, making you squeal. Your objection is short-lived when he brushes his thumbs over both nipples, awakening them with slow strokes.

Tommy’s gaze drops to your chest.

“He’s been watching you, you know,” Joel says. “When I had things to settle in town it was him who looked after you,” his voice drops, eyes observing his brother. “I think he deserves a bit of a show, don’t you think?”

The whimper you let out is enough for Tommy to meet your gaze curiously. Joel smiles into your skin and your eyes widen as he pulls out a knife—a different one from the one he used on Jacob, you realize with relief.

Your breath hitches as he slides the knife under your shirt and cuts your shirt clean from the middle, exposing you completely to his younger brother’s eyes. Sudden arousal pools between your legs and you clamp them together suddenly, the movement not unnoticed by either of them.

“You like it when my brother watches?” he asks loud enough for Tommy to hear. “You got a little crush on him too, sweetheart, hmm? Don’t worry, he’s always goin’ to be lookin’ out for you. That’s what family does after all.”

Your neck strains as Joel tilts your head suddenly, claiming your lips in a violent kiss. He doesn’t wait for you to part your lips for him and pushes his tongue into your mouth, licking the surprised sounds of pleasure right from your mouth. Your heart skips a beat. He presses the flat side of the knife against your warmed skin, the chill of metal settling in your bones.

When he parts away, a string of saliva connects you still. “You’re mine aren’t you?” Joel groans, lips moving over yours.

You nod in a daze and he smiles, “And I’m yours too,” he says.

Your eyes meet Tommy momentarily, the younger Miller’s lips twitch in a half smile. He doesn’t say a word as he closes the distance.

Tommy cradles your face tenderly, urging you to come close as he envelopes your lips with his own, taking you by surprise.

The kiss lacks the intensity compared to Joel’s. Tommy caresses your cheeks with both thumbs. You don’t even feel his tongue, it’s just a gradual movement of lips, a type of affirmation and comfort.

“You’re one of us now,” he says pressing his forehead against yours. You don’t know how to react or what to say and you end up just nodding, your hands fisting his shirt. Him, parting away from you almost feels painful but you’re not sure why. Tommy gives you a smile and Joel a nod before he leaves.

You and Joel stand like that for a while, in complete silence, bodies flushed together, knife still resting over your stomach.

“I only did what was right,” he breaks the silence. His tone isn’t one of asking for forgiveness or understanding. His arms tighten around you. “Are you afraid of me?” he whispers into your ear, the thick hairs above his lips tickling the shell of your ear.

You don’t answer him.

“You don’t need to be,” he continues. He allows you to move within his arms, you want to see his face, you need to see him to not fear for your life. You ignore the knife grazing your skin as you turn around, your bare front snug against his chest. “I’ll never hurt you. And you’re the only person in this whole damn town that can say that. You and Ellie.”

“What about Tommy?”

“Tommy’s priorities lay elsewhere.”

He doesn’t allow you to inquire further about what he means by that. All you can detect is a hint of anger that quickly dissipates when he claims your lips once more.

You’re lost in him. His tongue captures you in a way that makes you forget the blood on his clothes—on his hands. His tongue slides against your own, pressing until you’re moaning into his mouth, your knees faltering at the knife smoothing down your skin.

Before pushing you down to the ground, he takes off the shirt he cut in half completely off of you, your bra following the pile on the grass. Your breath hitches as he takes his place between your legs, his mouth devouring your neck, “Joel. . .” you moan, fisting his shirt and grinding up to feel at least a bit of friction.

A silent laugh seeps into your skin, his breath sending shivers up your spine, “Do you still feel bad for them?” he teases, laying a wet kiss between your breasts.

You don’t think much as you answer, “No.”

And as a reward, Joel closes his lips over a nipple, sucking hard until your breathing goes ragged.

“That’s my girl,” he groans, moving towards the other pebbled flesh. “You’re too good, too kind, but they don’t deserve that sweetheart.”

He hooks his fingers into your belt loops and tugs down your jeans, laving you with soft, ticklish kisses as he moves lower and lower. When you’re completely bare to him, you have the urge to cover yourself, the grass tickles your back and the wind feels colder now. Joel smiles and pulls your arms away. He lays the knife right above your stomach and your breath hitches.

“I want to taste you,” Joel says. “But not in the way you think, darlin’,” he kisses the sensitive skin right adobe your belly button, and brings the sharp edge of the knife to your skin. “I want to taste the life that pumps through your veins.”

Your eyes widen as he nicks you. It’s a small cut and blood beads at the wound instantly. He doesn’t allow it to gather enough so that’ll trickle down, he quickly presses his lips against it, your essence coating his tongue as he gives it a tender suck. You can the blood leaving your veins, a pleasant tingle echoing from the wound and spreading throughout your body. Your eyes flutter, a moan escaping your lips as he flattens his tongue against the cut and licks with board strokes.

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he rasps, pushing two fingers into you with ease. You gasp at the sudden stretch, your back arching into his touch. “So darn wet—All this for me, sunshine?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, grinding down. “Joel, please—”

You hear the sound of his belt buckle coming undone, his breath heavy in your ear, “Since you asked so nicely, sweetheart, I’m obliged.”

You feel the head of his cock brush against your entrance, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Your eyes close in anticipation and you whimper as he slowly slides inside you inch by inch. You can feel it, that intense fullness that can only come from him, taking his time to make sure it feels good. His size is intimidating but you feel yourself melting around him, eager and willing.

“That’s it. . . you’re takin’ me so well, such a tight little hole for me. Fuckin’ amazin’.”

He presses his forehead against yours, nipping at your bottom lip before thrusting, sending a wave of pleasure that makes your toes curl. You cling onto him for support as he pumps deeper and faster, hitting all the right spots. It takes neither of you long to climb the edge, ready to fall. You can feel the warmth of his breath, and his grip tightens on your hips. His pace quickens as the intensity builds, and you clench around him as he groans your name.

“Gonna come inside,” he slurs his words. “Gonna fill you up—shit—”

You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of you, his hard length contracting. As he pushes deeper into you, your insides flutter, squeezing around him. Your orgasm is ripped from you, shattering and mind-numbing. Your head spins and you cling to him, afraid that the world underneath you might slip entirely. His hot come warms you from the inside out, spilling from where his cock stretches you.

Joel remains inside until he starts to soften. He pulls out of you, leaving you feeling a longing ache deep within your core. You shudder as his come trickles down your thighs, your cunt clenching around nothing.

“Such a pretty sight,” he murmurs, entranced, as he gathers himself over his fingers and pushes it back inside you. “Try to keep as much as you can inside.” To emphasize his want for it, he slides your underwear up your legs.

You’re tied to him now. And even though you shouldn’t, you enjoy being the one near the beast. Joel helps you dress, at least helps you with what remains, and gives you his leather jacket to wear since your shirt is in ruins. Neither of you says a word as you walk back to where Jacob’s body rests. You help him bury the body, not feeling a single thing; no grief, no remorse, no sadness.

You always did have a complicated relationship with death after all.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #hauntedhoedown

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uyuuma · 1 year ago

Text

“ I HOPE YOU KNOW I'M FADED ”

drunk!gojo x exgf!reader ღ MDNI.

❥ summary. you and your toxic ex, gojo, broke up months ago. yet you find his drunk ass outside your apartment door.

❥ warnings. nsfw, female anatomy, toxic ex, manipulative gojo, dub con, dacryphilia, use of the name 'daddy', alcohol mentioned, tw: toxic relationship dynamic, etc.

❥ a/n. okok this one i thought of while i was bored at work, hope y'all enjoyyyy. i had to resubmit this post bc it got taken down bruh lets hope it doesnt happen again (title was inspired from the song 'spotlight' by lil peep; it is encouraged to listen while reading :3)

❥ wc. 3.2k

Your life has been rather drama-free ever since you broke up with Satoru Gojo.

After the constant arguments and severe manipulation that he had put you through, you decided enough was enough and you told him to essentially fuck off.

But if you were being honest with yourself, you weren't fully over him yet. In fact, life may have been drama-free but it became so boring after that. In some kind of fucked up way, you kind of missed the rollercoaster of emotions he put you through.

That's just how things are you guess, prioritizing your peace over that man was the healthier decision in the long run. You blocked his number and all of his social media as well as ghosting all of your mutuals, like Suguru and Shoko. It was a tough decision but you were tired of them asking about you and Satoru. He's done enough damage to your life already.

It's been radio silence since then, wonderful peace and quiet for two whole months. You found yourself taking up old hobbies again, exercising regularly, and even talking to other men. Life was right back on track and you were on your way to properly healing.

Unfortunately, it wasn't enough because he still knew where you lived. You didn't really bank on the fact he would come banging on your door. You believed he would just move on, since he is Satoru Gojo after all. Any woman would be head over heels for the handsome man, even if he was toxic as fuck.

But no, god dammit it all, he is still stuck on you.

Loud banging could be heard on your apartment door. It scared the living daylights out of you when you shot up from beneath your covers. You thought that there was someone trying to break in or perhaps your building manager was trying to alert you to a fire. You immediately rolled out of bed and ran to the door.

That's when you heard that cursed voice.

"Open uppppp!" the voice slurred on the other side.

You groan an exasperated "Noooooo fuckkkk!" under your breath after realizing it's your ex.

"Baby please... I know you're in thereeee" He said in a joking manner.

You open the door a crack, not unhooking the chain lock. "Go away, I told you I never wanted to see you again." You said coldly. Your voice was also a tad raspy, as you had just woken up from a deep slumber.

"Baby don't be like that, let daddy in will you?" He purred through the crack of the door. You could tell he was under the influence of something and it caused you to roll your eyes.

"Fuck no, now leave before I call the cops." You threatened as you went to shut the door.

The door came to a halt with a loud 'THUD'. Satoru grabbed the chain lock with his fist and he held it open before you could shut it. You gasp and jolt back from the audacity that this guy had.

"No no no no no, you're not listening t'me. I wanna talk to you." He said as he tried to pull the chain off the door.

You knew he had the strength to do it too and you didn't feel like replacing it so you annoyedly invited him in.

"Christ, fine but only for a bit! Do you understand me?" You said sharply, unlocking the chain.

"Anything you want, mama." He said grinning, he swiped the door open wide to let his towering frame through the doorway.

You click your tongue in irritation as you quietly close the door behind him. "What do you want, Satoru? It is 3 in the fucking morning!" You whisper yelled.

"Shhhhshhhshh" He spat out at you, putting his long finger against your lips, hushing you. "I just missed you so much, hehe." He found it amusing you were getting angry and it only triggered you more.

"Don't touch me, you're not my boyfriend anymore." You said smacking his hand away from you.

"Says who?" He asks confusedly. He tilts his head to the side.

"Says me!" You said trying not to scream too loud and wake the neighbors.

"Pshhh nah ah!" He says as he smirks. "I say we just forgive each other and move on, huh?" He proposes the idea, with full confidence.

You let out a laugh in disbelief. "Each other? You prick, you're the one that manipulated me and used me! If anything you should be begging me for forgiveness! And you can start by leaving!" Your voice was starting to get louder, but you were beyond infuriated right now.

"What are y'talking about? Don't start with this crazy shit." He said with a twinge of irritation in his voice. He slouched a lot worse than usual, his hands stuffed into the pocket of his sweats. He was wearing that stupid compression shirt that would always make your head spin when you saw it.

He also reeked of alcohol. It was safe to say that the dude was drunk. It took a lot just to get him tipsy, so for him to be this drunk it must've meant he's been at it all night.

"Look baby, I just came from Sukuna's house party and it made me realized how much I missed youuu." he said, his eyes all glossy.

Oh? So, he decided to crawl back after drinking himself silly at some house party? This guy couldn't get anymore pathetic, you thought to yourself. "You stink of booze, get out of my apartment you bum." You said pointing out the door. "I don't need you ruining my life again."

"C'mon don't be like that princess, you know the only thing I'd ever ruin is your slutty little holes." He said, smirking. He grabbed your chin with his hand and brought you close to his face. You could smell the whiskey still hot on his breath.

You were so beyond done with this. "You're repulsive, do not talk about me like that." All of the emotions you had that you've suppressed came back and all at once. You could feel that all too familiar burning in your eyes and throat.

You went silent and smoothed over your hair with your hand, trying to soothe yourself. Do not let him make you cry again. You took a few deep breaths before continuing.

"Look I know you're fucked up, but you need to call an Uber and leave immediately." You said looking up into his eyes to show how serious you were being.

He just continued to give you this cocky smirk while tuning you out. He just won't fucking listen to you.

"Ok! Well here this shit is again! You never take me seriously! It's like I'm this big fucking joke to you!" You yelled out, letting your emotions start to swell inside your chest.

Tears began to spill from your eyes as months and months of frustrations started to unravel. You looked down and brought your sleeve to wipe your tears. "Well, I won't take it anymore! I-" Suddenly you found that your breath was suddenly snatched from your lungs, after looking back up at him.

Satoru was palming his hard-on while you were sobbing. He was getting off to your tears. The fucking bastard.

"Are you─!" You were cut off by Satoru's moans.

"Fuck, you are so sexy when you get all emotional like that. God, I just want to shut you up with my cock." He said eyes fixated on your face.

"You cannot be serious right now!" You've had enough of his shit, you shoved him, trying to get him out the door.

"Oooh playin' rough with me princess?" He doesn't budge from you trying to push him. "Aww, if only you weren't so weak." He says as he wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls it up. He yanks your hand above your head and watches you squirm.

He looks thoroughly amused and cracks a smile when you fight back.

"Aw I miss this, us arguing and fighting. It always gets my blood pumping." he said, shoving you to your knees.

You tried to fight where this was inevitably going to end up, but it was no use. Satoru was just too damn strong and too damn convincing.

He hisses as he frees his dick from his sweats. It bobs up and down from the sudden release. Your eyes follow it, mesmerized with how big it was. It's been a few months since you last saw it. You had so many conflicting thoughts racing through your head as you silently knelt on the floor below him.

"Suck." He commanded, holding his tip to your lips. His precum lubricated your soft lips, making you feel sticky already.

You shook your head and used your hands to push away from it using his thighs as leverage. You didn't want to give into him, not after everything.

"No fuck- c'mon baby just open wide." He cooed out to you. Even now he was deciding everything for you. He decided you were going to suck his dick and that's what you were going to do.

It was a struggle between you pushing away and him grabbing your hair and pushing your head down onto his cock. Between his groans in anticipation and your whines in protest, he became increasingly impatient.

"No no no, shhhshhh... that's a good girl." He hiccupped. Satoru successfully got your mouth to take his tip. He grunted and tilted his head back slightly, feeling you slowly but surely take his length.

"Oh fuck, I missed your mouth so much baby." He purred as he parted your hair out of your face.

You closed your eyes in defeat as tears began sliding down your cheeks. He held your head still with one hand gripping on your pony tail and pumped himself in and out of your mouth.

"Fuuuuck, no matter where I looked I couldn't find another girl who satisfied me like you do." He started to invade your throat with his length, making your esophagus become sore and your lungs burn from the lack of air.

You choked on his cock, saliva dripping down your chin and neck, as well as down his balls. Your fingernails dug deep into his thighs, trying to either push yourself off or for leverage. One of the two, you didn't know anymore. All you knew was that little warm sensation that built between your legs. Your body was betraying you, you were supposed to hate this man, to not let him abuse you anymore. But fuck, his cock hit all the right places in your tight throat. Your eyes begin to cross as you struggle to breathe.

"Shit, you swallow me so good. Mmm, tell me you want daddy to cum down your throat." He said fucking into your mouth, your lewd slurping sounds were very pleasing to his ears.

You let out a muffled moan in response, obviously you couldn't say anything but that was enough of an answer for him.

"Oh fuck, take my load." he ordered, his abs flexing as he came. He groaned as he painted your throat white with his seed. You could feel the hot, sticky fluid make its way down your throat as you swallowed it all.

More tears fell onto your cheeks. "Hate you, 'toru." you whined out, throat still raw from his dick forcing its way in.

Satoru gave you that cocky smile again and tapped his cock against your cheek as you pouted. "Still harddd." he sang. "Wanna be a doll f'me and get on all fours?" He said wiping the spit off your chin.

You were so disappointed in yourself. This man was forcing himself back into your life and all you could do was watch as it happened. You looked up at him and see that faded look in his eyes. They say that drunk words were sober thoughts, has he been wanting to do this for two months?

Despite everything, you did exactly as he said. You turned around and lowered yourself onto all fours. Truth is, your pussy was aching for him and it had been since you guys broke up. Those men couldn't satisfy you and neither could your dildo, at least not like how Satoru can. Perhaps this whole situation was inevitable.

You pull down your panties and shamefully spread your pussy out for him, showing how you were already wet and ready for him to stretch you out.

"Aww, baby you're already soaked. I haven't even touched you down there yet." He said kneeling down to take a closer look. He took his hand to grip your ass and moved his thumb to swipe a line against your cunt.

You shuddered from the satisfaction of finally being touched where you were aching. You could hear shuffling from behind you and felt a sudden wet, warmth swipe up and down on your clit.

You gasped and clasped your hand over your mouth in response to Satoru suddenly eating you out. How polite of him to at least warm you up.

There was something so feral about the way he ate you out. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but he was sloppily sucking on your clit making your legs shake from the pleasure. He began humming and moaning as his tongue entered you, pumping in and out. His fingernails were digging into the fat of your ass as he spread your cheeks nice and wide for him.

Your arms wanted to give out from under you, but the bastard chose to fuck you on the cold hardwood flooring in the foyer. So you struggled to hold your head up, as if that would protect your dignity.

Satoru parted his mouth from your now slick folds, spit dripping all over your floors. "Mmm, baby I missed tasting you." He said, lust dripping from his voice almost as much as the saliva down his chin. He wiped the drool and slick from his mouth and gave your ass a swift 'SMACK'. You yelped out from the sudden sting.

"You ready baby? This is my favorite part." He cooed into your ear as he rutted his erection against your pussy.

"Yes 'Toru, fuck me please." You whined out. You were already gone, you just wanted the sweet release of the growing knot in your tummy. It was far too late to fight back at this point, all you could think about was him rearranging your guts.

He didn't need to hear any other words of confirmation as he aligned his throbbing cock with your dripping cunt. He pushed the tip in and let a shaky moan out along with a hiss.

"Fuck, always so tight." He groaned while thrusting just the tip in and out of your hole. His hands were still gripping your ass at this time, but he moved his left hand to grip onto your shoulder, lowering you onto his cock.

You let out such sweet moans and whimpers as he watched your pretty cunt swallow him up. He was mesmerized, trying not to cum at the very sight of it. He gave a drawn out sigh in relief from feeling your gummy walls clamp onto him.

He repositioned his large hands to have a strong grip on your waist as he started to thrust in and out of you. It was a slow rhythm at first, nice and sensual like he was trying to massage your insides.

It drove you insane, feeling him drag in and out. He had your back arched, so you folded your arms and laid on them. You scraped the floors with your nails as you felt him start to smack his hips against your ass.

"Mmm... fuck Satoru..." you mewled out, shoulder blades pushing together as your back curved in.

"M'gonna ruin your little pussy." He said making his thrusts rougher. "Gonna punish you for leaving me." He grunted out through clenched teeth. He let out a breathy moan as he leaned over you, slamming his hips flush against your ass.

You let out a sharp squeal as he jackhammered your cervix at this new angle. This squeal pleased him so much that he chuckled and said, "Keep making those cute little sounds."

He caged you beneath him by putting all of his weight on his left arm, holding his hand steadily on the floor by your head. He took his right arm and roughly took your arms from beneath your head. He pinned them both behind your back as he relentlessly pounded into you. This way he could have complete control over your body.

Your face was now met with the cold floor. Your cheek was squished and your mouth agape, drooling from the mind-melting ecstasy. You were starting to see stars, eyes not being able to focus on a single thing. Not that you could see through your tears anyways. You felt your climax approaching rapidly, pussy clenching him uncontrollably.

He started to curse under his breath as his thrusts became more shaky and messy from the pressure. You could tell he was nearing his orgasm too.

"Fuck baby, cum on my cock. Wanna feel you squeeze me." He said, his words coming out super slurred. You couldn't see his expression but you could tell from his voice that he was not only drunk but also pussy-drunk.

Your hands clenched from behind your back and your whole body seized up as you reached your limit. "F-fuck m'gonna cum daddy!" You screeched out, forgetting it was four in the morning. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you gasped. Your whole body spasmed as you felt that sweet release you had been craving for months.

"Oh shit baby-" He cut himself off as he bit down on his lip. He hunched his entire body over you and his hands flew to grip onto your hips. "M'gonna fucking fill you so deep" He whimpered as he slammed your ass tightly against his pelvis. You could feel him twitch against you as that familiar warmth invades your pussy.

His curses are much louder this time around, slurring out profanities as thick ropes of cum coat your walls.

You gave one last whine before completely collapsing under him. "Satoru..." you said softly, very much out of breath.

He was silent for a second, slowly pulling himself out of your sore, leaking hole. He took his thumb and plugged your cunt so that his precious fluids stayed inside.

You squeaked from the feeling and laid on the floor in defeat. Your whole body was spent and you felt as if you could pass out on the floor.

He stood up and lifted his sweats back up. "C'mon princess lets go back to bed." He said kneeling back down to pick you up.

"I hate you, Satoru." You said meekly. You meant it, yet you didn't at the same time.

"Love you too baby." He said picking you up, bridal style.

He carried you to your bed, slipping under the covers with you. He spooned you and rested his face in the crook of your neck.

His scent was intoxicating, cologne mixed with musk and alcohol. Fuck, you really did miss him after all.

Whatever, you'll deal with kicking him out in the morning. Or not. You weren't sure anymore as you drifted back to sleep.

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