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gothgoblinbabe · 3 months ago

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The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony (pt.2)

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fem reader, soft dom!Logan, good ol’ face sittin’, sloppy oral (m receiving), swearing, use of pet names - babydoll, sweetheart, pretty girl - teeth rottingly sweet fluff, emotional(?) sex, mild angst, i think thats it but if there’s any more pls lmk!

Read pt.1 here

Summary: part 2 is finally here! I’ll be honest i think the majority of it is smut, but if you’re not interested in reading that, you can stop at the point where you and Logan drive home from the restaurant :) <3 this is probably the most detailed nsfw thing i’ve ever written so it’s a lil’ longer than what i’d usually write for smut but I really wanted to deliver on this one.

Taglist: @deardo11 @pastelpinkflowerlife @joyfulpeanutsalad @jonesem11 @carollinnasic @likeficsinthewnd @mrs-ephemeral

Word Count: 9.5K

divider credit here and here

It had been about a month since the whole ordeal with Logan - the exchanging of fake rings, sweet nicknames and kissing in the driveway - and to everyone else, it seemed like nothing had changed.

You’d still taunt each other during training, bicker over the small things and butt heads on almost everything, but it was all accompanied by stolen kisses in empty hallways, nights on the roof spent stargazing and small, sweet moments in between. You were going to come out with it - tell the team what had been going on behind closed doors - but truthfully, you were both fearful of the possible outcomes. What if this didn’t work out? What, you’d go back to hating each other - for real this time? So you kept it hushed, intending to give the new ‘relationship’ - a word neither of you used, yet - a sort of trial run. Neither of you admitted it aloud but you knew this way, if it really wasn’t meant to be, it could save you the embarrassment of admitting you were both wrong.

As the days went on, though, it became harder for either of you to keep up the act and even more difficult to keep your secret. You came close to being caught more often, having to stutter out an excuse each time. Jean and Ororo still knew what was going on - having been the ones to greet you in the hall when you’d gotten back from that dinner party - but gave you their word that it would stay a secret. The former of the two even feigned surprise when Scott mentioned he thought he saw you nearly kiss Logan in the kitchen, insisting he must've been seeing things.

You’d been washing some dishes and handing them off to him to dry and put away, both of you alone in the kitchen after dinner.

“Hey, do you wanna come up to my room in a little bit? Maybe watch a movie?” he offered in a low voice, standing so close that your arms touched.

Neither of you had actually had the chance to be alone like that yet and the idea made your stomach erupt in butterflies.

“Hm - If I didn’t know any better, Logan,” you chuckled, “I’d think you have some ulterior motive.”

“And If I did?”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon,” he cooed, “what do you think?”

You were looking up at him, your noses inches apart as he leaned down further. One of his hands came to rest on your lower back.

“Hey, guys, have you seen my - “

Scott’s voice echoed through the kitchen and you both jumped, Logan trying to put distance between you and nearly tripping over his feet in the process. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck and you kept your eyes glued to the dishes in the sink.

“Uh,” Scott tilted his head, “have you guys…seen my phone?”

“Nope,” Logan was quick to reply, drying and putting away dishes now like it was his job.

“Um, no - sorry,” you shook your head.

“Hm…okay,” Scott mumbled, clearly suspicious of whatever it was he’d just seen. You both exchanged a look of panic when he left the room.

“That was close,” you huffed, returning to the task at hand.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “and he’s probably the last one we want to find out - Summers is a blabber mouth.”

You knew exactly what he meant. If you told Scott anything, he couldn’t keep it to himself. One time Jean had tried to plan a surprise party for your birthday and you already knew about it before she could even pick the decorations.

Jean and Ororo had thankfully kept their word, though. It was damn near torture for them to keep from shouting the truth aloud every time you got into your usual spats. The sly jokes, however, were another story.

“Will you two just kiss already?” Jean had blurted when you were pelting each other with beanbags during an outdoor game of cornhole.

Ororo wasn’t any better.

She was sitting next to you at dinner one night, Logan across from you. Everyone was chatting about their days or telling stories and she volunteered you to share.

“Anything new happening with you? You seem extra happy lately,” she was grinning.

Your eyes darted to Logan and then back to her, taking a deep inhale.

“Uh, nothin’ - nothin’ new,” you swallowed, "just happy.”

Logan was smiling to himself, his gaze focused on his dinner.

After everyone had finished dinner and vanished off to their rooms, he stopped you at the bottom of the staircase.

“Hey,” he nervously scanned the hallway while gnawing on his bottom lip, “can you meet me in the garden out back in fifteen minutes? I wanna show you somethin’.”

“Sure,” you nodded, “but the ��something’ better not be beef jerky and a picnic blanket - which, by the way, is not a date.”

He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, a contradiction to the smile tugging at his lips.

“That was one damn time - you’re still mad about that?”

“Eh - not really, but I am gonna mention it in every argument we will ever have,” you joked.

“Oh, shut up, ya’ brat.”

You giggled and he beamed at the sound, already undeniably smitten with you. He’d never been so sure of any other feeling in his life. Your serene voice, your perfect hair, the smell of your perfume, the way you walked, the way you laughed and smiled - it was all things he’d taken notice of before but chose to bury within himself, terrified of whatever it was that had given you so much power over him.

Set on trying to impress you, he’d gone around the garden that morning and picked a couple flowers out of each different plant he saw. He felt a little ridiculous - his six foot frame and two hundred pound body towering over a bed of tulips and daffodils - but he reminded himself this was for you; to see that smile on your face that could bring him to his knees. He had fallen for you and he fell fast. He didn’t know when he’d truly realized it - maybe during one of your midnight conversations or during one of the movie nights when you made yourself comfortable under his arm - but it was a feeling so intense that he’d never experienced anything like it before. He’d never had that ache in his chest, the pain of wanting someone so badly that it physically hurts; the twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought of losing you, the way the thump of his heartbeat became so much louder and faster when he caught even a glimpse of you. Weeks ago, he probably would’ve made fun of the poor sap who was acting just as he was - like a lovesick dog on your leash - but he found himself finally starting to embrace the idea that there was someone for him in the way there was for Jean and Scott or Marie and Bobby. Maybe it wasn’t all permanent - nothing ever was - but whatever connection he had developed with you was one of the only things that he thought of first thing in the morning and right before he went to bed at night.

After what felt like the longest fifteen minutes of your life, you made your way outside and to the well kept garden. You admired every variation of flower in bloom while you walked, taking in the peaceful atmosphere of the garden in the moonlight. You planted yourself in the middle of the extensive displays of flora, nervously rocking back and forth on your heels. You scanned the landscape and that’s when you spotted him.

Logan was making his way towards you and even through the darkness, you could see the bright arrangement of flowers held in his hands. Your heart felt like it swelled so much with adoration that it was going to burst. He’d done this for you, went out and handpicked every flower. Receiving so much affection from him was unusual, in a good way. Recently, he’d absentmindedly begun holding your hand in his at times, talking away while his fingers intertwined with yours like it was second nature. He’d play with your hair, kiss your cheek, embrace you from behind, even pull you onto his lap so you could nuzzle into his chest. Even when you weren’t alone, he was having trouble keeping himself off of you. He’d place a guiding hand on the small of your back or let his touch linger when your fingers brushed up against each other - small things, almost unnoticeable. It was a stark contrast to his behavior weeks before and you couldn’t have been happier.

“These are for you,” Logan held the bouquet in front of you, pointing at some of the bulbs, “a couple of ‘em might be a little bent - I may have accidentally yanked ‘em out of the ground with more force than I needed to.”

You were beaming, your hands on your cheeks in excitement and surprise. You delicately took the arrangement of flowers from him, admiring the beautiful ribbon that kept them together. Jean had helped with that, of course.

“Oh, Logan,” you pouted, “these are beautiful!”

“I wanted to give you somethin’ nice, y’know - after being such an asshole for so long,” he shoved his hands in his pockets.

You knitted your eyebrows, “you didn’t have to, you know.”

He shook his head, waving a hand dismissively, “c’mon, none of that, princess. You deserve ‘em.”

Your heart felt like it would jump out of your chest whenever he’d call you sweet names. He’d called you princess before, sure, but only to tease you. The way he said it now was affectionate, as if to say you really were a princess in his eyes. You were head over heels for him already but you held your tongue, fearful that it was far too soon to admit something like that. The last thing you wanted to do was drive him away and lose the only relationship you’d had in years that made you absolutely lovesick to the point of losing sleep.

“I wanted to, uh - I wanted to tell you something, too,” he began, resting his hands on your waist. He seemed a little nervous with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

“So, tell me,” you smiled up at him. You’d be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous yourself, picking up on his hesitation.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, standing up straight and keeping his eyes trained on yours.

“I love you.”

You only blinked in response, lips parted in surprise.

“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t - “

“I love you - I love you, too.”

It was like letting go after holding your breath for so long, a sense of relief that couldn’t compare to anything else.

A wide grin crept onto his face, one he couldn’t hold back even if he tried. Your expression mirrored his - complete adoration for one another.

He was staring down at you the same way he had during dinner that night you first kissed. You’d wondered since then what it was, what made his pupils dilate when his eyes focused on yours or why he would tuck his lip between his teeth. You knew now that it was love.

“It’s gonna be even harder now to keep this - us - a secret,” he mumbled in a low voice. He brought his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He cupped your cheek after, unable to keep his hands off you.

“Well,” you bit the inside of your cheek, “we could tell them? Tell everyone, I mean.”

“Do you think you’re ready? I mean - not that I'm not ready, but I don't want you to feel rushed into anything.”

Your knees could’ve buckled right then and there at how truly sweet he was with you. You took his words into consideration and had a realization.

“We haven’t even really figured out what we are yet. What would we tell them?”

He nodded solemnly, grazing his thumb over your cheekbone, “Yeah, you’re right.”

You hoped this would be it - this would be the moment he finally told you that you were his girlfriend, you were something - but he gave a small smile and dropped his hand from your face.

“It’s getting late, we should get back before anyone notices we’re gone.”

You simply nodded, clearing your throat to replace the exasperated sigh you were about to let out.

You followed him on the way back, mind racing for the entirety of the short walk and drowning out anything Logan was saying. You wondered if he’d ever ask you that one question at all. Maybe he’d said he loved you to keep you hanging on, wrapped around his finger. Maybe it was meant to be casual and you’d misunderstood.

But there was a bouquet of flowers in your hands. You’d fallen asleep on his chest more times than you could count, held hands at any moment you could and he did just tell you he loved you. So, maybe he did mean it.

As you snuck down the hallway to your bedroom with the arrangement of flowers, you wondered how long you’d have to keep this a secret.

Unbeknownst to you, it wouldn't be much longer.

It all came to a head when the team decided to go out to dinner together, settling on some chain restaurant. You’d coincidentally ended up next to Logan in the large booth, the both of you on the very end of the table. You were all reading from the menus and Marie piped up from across the table.

“Honey, do you wanna switch seats?”

She was talking to you. You didn't look up from the laminated paper in your hands, responding automatically without a second thought.

“Nah, I'm fine.”

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and looked at Bobby, who only shrugged. You two never sat next to each other, usually bickering so intensely that you’d be asked to shut up or leave the table.

The unusual interaction was soon forgotten when your drinks were brought over, the waitress placing them in front of each of you. She was pretty and her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Logan being on the very end made him the closest in proximity to her and you being so close meant that you could hear her hushed voice when she leaned down before she walked away.

“And here, this is for you.”

She slid a napkin onto the table, your eyes automatically drawn to the movement. There was a clear phone number written in ink, her name scribbled underneath next to a smiley face.

Everyone at the table had noticed the interaction and waited for Logan to speak after she walked away. Instead, they watched in curiosity as he silently slid the napkin under his drink, the ink bleeding immediately from the condensation on the outside of his glass.

“Okay, what's up with you?” Scott questioned from across the table.

Logan raised his eyebrows, “I don’t know, what's up with you?”

“I asked you first.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Marie chimed in then, leaning forward with her elbows on the table to interrogate him, “you always take girls’ numbers when they give ‘em to you. Why not hers?”

He shrugged, “just not interested.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Watch the language, kid.”

“Whatever, you’re so full of it!”

You pretended to be uninterested in the conversation, folding your napkin into unrecognizable shapes.

“You know what? I think you might be in love,” she giggled, “you’ve been way too happy lately. Like, absurdly happy.”

You froze in place, gwaning on your bottom lip.

It was true, though. He was waking up early, smiling more, making more jokes that weren’t at Scott’s expense - they really had never seen him so happy.

“Um,” he hesitated for a second when you stole a glance at him. He was smiling to himself already.

“I guess you could say that.”

Everyone turned to stare at him in mild disbelief, including you.

“What? I was just kidding! Oh my god, you didn’t tell us?” Marie exclaimed, “spill it!”

Jean and Ororo were smiling wide behind their hands and exchanging knowing looks.

“Well, she’s real pretty,” he started, “and she’s sweet.”

You were trying so hard to fight a smile, covering your mouth with your fist as you leaned an elbow on the table.

“I never thought i’d hear you talk about someone like that,” Marie knitted her eyebrows and stuck out her bottom lip - the kind of face you’d make when a kid confesses their first crush.

Logan rolled his eyes and scoffed, a grin stuck on his face. Marie was still asking questions, determined to not let the topic go till she knew every detail.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Logan was nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek. He looked like he was thinking of an answer.

“Uh… I don’t know. I haven’t really asked her.”

You must have been pink all the way to the tips of your ears. You brought your glass of water to your lips, hoping it would help cool your face.

“Why not?”

Marie was really not gonna let this go and you dreaded to hear the answer come out of his mouth.

Logan sighed, picking at the skin around his fingernails as a nervous habit.

“Just a little nervous, I guess. I don’t wanna screw it up.”

“A girl that makes you nervous? When do we get to meet her?”

Your eyes were stuck on the wood grain of the table, both of your hands covering half your face at this point.

“When the time is right,” he responded, taking a sip of his drink.

Ororo rolled her eyes.

You’d all finished eating a good while later and the check came. After you’d both put cash down, he mumbled under his breath with his hand shielding his mouth.

“Meet me outside in a second, okay?”

He slipped out of his seat and you watched him disappear around the corner.

No one had noticed him leave his seat, too engrossed in conversation. After a minute or two, you muttered something about using the bathroom before you left the table and swiftly made your way back to the entrance you had come in through. It was starting to rain a little, barely drizzling.

Logan was standing in the parking lot with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He beckoned you over when he saw you, taking your hand in his and leading you to a spot outside that wasn’t directly in front of the door. His nose was starting to turn pink from the cold evening air and your cheeks were doing the same.

“So,” he swallowed hard, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, “I guess it’s about time I asked you, huh?”

“Ask me what?’

You were smiling so wide that your face ached. You knew exactly what, but of course you wanted to hear him say it.

His expression mirrored yours and he let go of one of your hands so he could cup your face.

“Would you be my girl?”

It may have been a little juvenile - the teasing, the hiding, the avoidance of labeling what you had - but it had worked.

“I already am,” you told him, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He happily reciprocated, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you even closer.

If either of you had taken a second to look around you first , you would’ve spotted the rest of the team turning the corner the second you kissed him.

“No way!”

Marie’s squeal echoed through the parking lot and both of you jumped, turning towards the sound. You both stood in stunned silence, Logan’s arms still locked around your waist.

“Uh…” He was like a deer in headlights.

“I should’ve guessed,” Scott clicked his tongue, irritated that he hadn’t figured you out sooner.

“Guessed what? We’re - uh, we were just - “ Logan shot you a look, hoping you’d be able to think of something on the spot - even with his arms still locked around you. You could’ve squirmed out of his hold, made some unconvincing excuse about having something in your eye and needing his help. You almost did. Looking up at him, his features highlighted by the flood lights that illuminated the nearly empty lot and his cheeks peppered in rain drops, you had a realization. You didn’t want to lie. You didn’t feel the need to anymore. You weren’t afraid it wasn’t going to work or that you might be better off as enemies rather than lovers. Everything felt like it was finally right - as if every piece of your life finally fit into its perfect place. If you were wrong - fuck it. You’d deal with the consequences later if you had to.

“Kissing. We were kissing - we’re dating,” you sputtered out to your friends, looking back to Logan after. You almost expected him to be embarrassed, to tell you to keep your mouth shut.

But he was smiling. He was smiling wider than you’d probably ever seen. He leaned his head down to kiss your forehead affectionately, mumbling into your hair, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, huh?”

You hummed in affirmation and peeked back at everyone else.

“How? Since when? Oh my god, I need to know everything,” Marie was as giddy as could be, nearly jumping up and down.

“Since they went on that mission where they had to pretend to be married,” Ororo piped up, “they liked pretending a little too much.”

You all began walking to the two cars you came in, Logan’s arm draped around your shoulders. He was holding you so close that you were practically stepping on his boots.

“Aw,” you heard Marie whisper to Bobby from behind you, “they’re so sweet together.”

“Now that they're not trying to kill each other? Yeah,” he replied with a small laugh.

“I thought you guys hated each other,” Scott said, “what happened?

“Well,” you smiled to yourself, “he’s a good fake husband, so I figured he might make an alright boyfriend.”

You stopped when you approached the car and Logan wrapped you into a tight embrace, your face smushed against his chest. You giggled into his shirt until he finally let you go.

“How’d you guys even keep it under wraps anyway?” Scott asked.

You looked up to Logan, “Willpower?”

He chuckled, “I don’t know, really,” he rested his hands at your waist, “I guess we got lucky that you guys aren’t too bright.”

Ororo lightly smacked the back of his shoulder, rolling her eyes but holding a smile on her face.

You all piled into the cars you’d came in - you, Logan, Marie and Bobby in one and Jean, Scott and Ororo in another - and made your way home. Logan drove and you sat beside him, his hand in yours for most of the ride.

When you all got home and everyone went off to their rooms, Logan stopped you with a gentle grip on your wrist.

“Would you, um,” he looked to the floor for a moment, biting back a smile, “would you maybe want to spend the night in my room?”

You and Logan had been alone together a handful of times, but never like that - in his bedroom. The thought made your palms start to sweat. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought of it - you’d been together about a month now and every time you’d gotten the chance to make out, you usually didn’t have an opportunity to go any further. Someone would call your name, Logan’s phone would ring, you’d hear footsteps - always something to pull you apart. It was torture, knowing you could kiss him till his hands started to creep up your shirt or your hand rested on his belt buckle but never actually get to go any further.

“We don’t have to do anything but sleep,” Logan could see the hesitation in your expression, “whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I’d love to,” you replied, letting him take your hand in his and lead you down the hall.

“How about this - I'll change into pajamas in my room, you can change in yours and then come down,” he swiped his thumb over your knuckles, “is that alright?”

You almost wanted to insist you could change in his room - let him see you bare in front of him like you wanted for weeks - but you simply nodded and slipped your hand from his grasp as you walked the short distance to your room. After changing into a tank top and pajama shorts, you shuffled up to his door in your slippers and gave a small knock.

He answered in an instant, wearing sweatpants and his usual white beater. You unintentionally let out a sigh, eyes immediately scanning over his muscular torso under the thin white fabric.

Christ, he’s hot.

“Everything alright, pumpkin’?”

It didn’t help that he was so damn sweet to you.

“Huh? Uh - yeah, I just,” you stopped, realizing there wasn’t much of a need for an excuse, “I like the way you look in that.”

You boldly reached out to playfully tug the hem. He smiled and used your hand on him to pull you out of the hallway and into his room, wrapping you in his arms.

“Yeah?” He said softly, kissing your cheek and forehead before finally meeting your lips, “I like the way you look in these.”

His hand slid down to the hem of your shorts, hiking them up a little to squeeze your upper thigh.

You giggled, a blush forming across your cheeks.

“And you’re so damn cute,” he led you to his bed, laying down and patting the spot next to him, “c’mere, sweetheart.”

Still, even after all those weeks, the pet names made you feel weak in the knees.

You obeyed instantly, crawling onto the mattress and snuggling up next to him. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, steady and strong.

Logan had a mirror across the room, coincidentally angled so that, from where you were, you could both see your reflection. He was playing with your hair when he began to stare at your reflection, smiling to himself.

“What?” You interrogated, looking up at him and then back to the mirror.

“We look good together,” he admitted, “well, you look good.”

You clicked your tongue, “are you kidding? Please, girls practically throw themselves at you.”

“Well, there’s only one girl I ever really wanted to throw herself at me.”

“I think you got your wish.”

You still had that spark - the back and forth quips and competitive nature - except that it was always something sweet now.

“I love you, a lot,” he muttered into the top of your head, pulling you as close as you could lay to him with your leg slung over his thighs.

“I love you too, Logan,” you smiled into his shirt, taking in the smell of him.

His hand came to rest on your thigh, gently kneading and squeezing. You already felt your breath quicken and heart start to race again as his fingertips traced the hem of your shorts.

“Like I said,” he cooed, having picked up on your rapid heartbeat, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Staring up at him, his large hand still kneading your upper thigh, you’d decided - just like in the parking lot earlier - you’d had enough of holding back. You swiftly brought yourself further on top of him, straddling his lap with your knees on either side. You didn’t give him time to protest as you cupped his face and kissed him in a slow mess of tongues and teeth, savoring the feeling of finally having him beneath you. It wasn’t long before his hands found home on your thighs, his fingers already slotting beneath the fabric of your shorts. He then slid his hands up to squeeze your ass, pushing you even further into him while your tongue explored the inside of his mouth. When you finally pushed yourself up with your hands on his chest, he almost looked dazed.

“I wouldn’t start somethin’ you can’t finish,” he panted, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

“Oh, I think I’ll finish,” you joked, raising your eyebrows at the innuendo.

“Yeah? I know you will.”

You squealed and giggled when he flipped you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head.

“Been wantin’ to get my hands on you like this forever, you know,” he continued with a wicked smile, peppering kisses from your jaw to your collarbone, “thinkin’ about you.”

“W-What were you thinking about?” you managed to stutter out, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head when he began to lightly suck and bite at your warm skin.

“Having you here, in my bed. Getting to undress you, having your thighs ‘round my head.”

You nearly choked on your saliva at the filthy way he was mumbling against your skin and squeezing your hips.

“Me too,” was all you could say, lost in the feeling of his hands now sliding under your tank top, resting right below your tits.

“ ‘s that what you thought about?”

You can tell he wanted you to say it, let him know just how bad you wanted him.

“I thought about being in your bed, sitting on your lap,” you took a deep breath, “and having you - having you, uh…”

Your sentence trailed off, cheeks tinted pink.

“What, sweetheart? C’mon, don’t be shy. What do you want me to do, huh?”

He still knew how to tease you, even if it wasn’t out of spite anymore.

“Fuck,” you swallowed audibly, “want you to eat me out, fuck me - anything.”

You sounded desperate and you knew it. You really didn’t care, too engrossed in everything about him to even consider it.

“Really?”

Your eyes met his, filled with lust and ambition to please you any way you wanted. His lips were parted in surprise when he first heard your words, slowly turning into a devious smile.

“Please.”

That was all he needed to trail his lips down your shoulders, gently pushing the straps of your tank top down. He sat up to let you pull it off and if he wasn’t already set on worshiping you, he definitely was now.

You’d yanked the garment over your head and onto the floor, revealing your bare chest.

Logan groaned, laying you back down and almost immediately latching his lips onto the newly exposed and incredibly soft skin.

“So beautiful,” he mumbled against you as he took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue.

“Oh my god,” you huffed quietly, arching your back to push yourself even further into him.

He was trying to hold back a smug grin, switching between each breast, sucking and biting gently.

“ ‘s good, baby?”

You were lost for words, even more so when you could see the string of spit that connected his mouth to one of your tits.

“Mm-hm,” you hummed, your fingers having found their home in Logan’s hair.

You whined when he pulled his mouth from you with an audible pop.

“Words, sweetheart,” he told you, his eyes glued to yours while he licked his own spit off his lips.

“”Fuck, yes, yes -“

You were cut off by your own moan, gasping when you felt the pressure of his thigh in between yours. He slid his hands down your body to grab your ass in an attempt to grind you down on his leg.

“I like it when you make those noises for me,” he muttered into your chest, his hands still kneading your ass when he pulled you forwards.

You wanted him for so long that the reality of being with him had made you over sensitive to his touch. Even through the fabric of your panties and shorts, the feeling was intoxicating.

You were practically whining as he ground you down so hard that you were soaked all the way through your shorts and panties, the fabric of both sliding to the side.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he chuckled a little, feeling the soaked patch on his sweatpants, “all for me?”

You hummed, hands tugging at his hair, “for-for you.”

His hands came around to the front of your shorts, his fingers hooking onto the fabric.

“Can I take these off you?”

“Please,” you responded immediately, already lifting your hips off the bed so he could drag your shorts down your legs.

When he turned to throw them somewhere on the floor, he caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your chest was heaving and your hair was all over the place from rolling around in the bed. He could see that you were still looking up at him, even when he was turned away.

“I got an idea, scoot up a bit,” he told you suddenly when he turned back to face you. You moved forward on the mattress as he momentarily stood up, stripping himself of his beater. He sat behind you and arranged himself so that he was holding your back against his chest with his arms around your waist, his legs spread out so you could lay between them.

You instantly caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. Your head was leaned back on his shoulder and he planted delicate kisses down your neck.

“ ‘s that why you wanted to sit like this?” you nodded weakly in the direction of the mirror, your eyes nearly fluttering close when he slid one of his hands to rest on the inside of your thigh.

“You look real pretty, I wanna see all of you,” he explained, his middle finger grazing your cunt through your damp panties.

Your eyes were glued to your reflection - your legs spread with his hand between them and purple hickies darkening on your chest. Logan was staring at your reflection too, his mouth still working on your neck.

“Look at you, all spread out for me,” he mumbled into your ear, “so fucking gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. If he kept saying all those filthy things, it wasn't going to take long before you were coming apart in his arms.

You shivered when his fingers hooked around the wet crotch of your underwear and moved it to the side.

You could hear him swear under his breath from behind you, his fingers barely grazing your heat.

“God, Logan,” you were squirming, trying to push your hips towards his hand, “you’re gonna make me beg?”

You could see him smirk into your shoulder in the mirror, “you know what?”

He moved his hands to drag your panties off, nearly tearing them in the process.

“Yeah, I am.”

He let his head fall back to rest on the headboard, lidded eyes staring into your reflection while his hands laid still on the outside of your hips - even farther away from where you wanted him. He really wasn’t going to move an inch until he heard you beg for it, though he couldn’t help himself from digging his fingers into your soft flesh.

You groaned in frustration, “Fucking hate you.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

His lips grazed your earlobe and you wanted to roll your eyes at the smug look on his face, “Now, c’mon, baby. Beg.”

You moved your hands behind you so you could thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head.

“Fuck, please, Logan - need you.”

“Need me how?”

He really was an asshole.

“Need your hands - need your fingers, please,” you groaned.

“I don’t know, you think you’ve been a good girl? Think you deserve it?”

You would’ve been pissed at him had he not turned you on beyond belief. You gave in, becoming putty in his arms.

“ ‘m good - been good for you,” you whined, using one of your hands on his to try and move it between your legs, “please.”

He sighed, returning his hand back to the hot skin of your inner thigh, “Shit, need me that bad? Huh, pretty girl?”

You were so worked up you could have cried from his teasing. You nodded eagerly, attempting to clamp your thighs together to force his hand to at least graze your cunt that was dripping onto his sheets.

He clicked his tongue and used his strong hands on the inside of your thighs to spread your legs again, “Gotta keep ‘em open for me, sweetheart.”

He dragged two of his fingers between your folds, messily toying with you. You gasped, gripping his arm and inadvertently leaving imprints from your fingernails.

“So fucking wet,” he huffed, gaze glued to the reflection of your spread legs in the mirror, “Pretty pussy’s all mine.”

You were already whimpering and moaning from the slightest touch.

“ ‘s yours - fuck, I‘m-I’m yours,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed.

He hummed in agreement, his fingers prodding at your entrance.

“Please, please, please,” you whined, trying to push your hips forward.

“I think you’ve been real good, angel,” he was slipping his fingers further into you at an agonizingly slow pace, “think you deserve it.”

You were whining and whimpering so loud that you were sure someone had to have heard you by now. You couldn’t help the noises slipping from your mouth, feeling like you’d black out just from the sight of Logan’s fingers slipping between your swollen lips and into your cunt.

When he finally thrusted his fingers into you all the way down to his knuckles, you brought a hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle what you knew would be a pornographically loud moan.

He clicked his tongue, grabbing at your wrist to tug your hand away.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he panted into your ear, curling his fingers inside you, “wanna hear you - want everyone to know who’s makin’ you feel good like this.”

His thumb started to draw circles around your clit in rhythm with the movement of his fingers and you could feel the pressure in your stomach starting to build.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his jaw hung open while he watched his fingers disappear inside you over and over again with ease, “takin’ my fingers so well. I think you’d take somethin’ else real well, too.”

The intent of his words nearly drove you over the edge, your mind unable to stop conjuring up images of what it would be like when he finally did fill you like you’d wanted him to.

“Logan, Logan, I’m -,” you groaned, so close to finally coming on his fingers.

Until he slipped them out of you and pulled his hand away completely.

You choked out a sob, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration.

“I’m gonna let you finish, don’t worry,” he promised. You watched him suck his fingers clean before he used his arm around you to rearrange you both so that he was laying on his back and you were facing him with your legs straddling his torso. You could feel his erection poking at your ass and you licked your lips when you imagined being able to take him in your mouth, letting him fuck your throat to the point that your chin and the base of his cock were coated in your drool.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Logan’s voice brought you out of thought and you let him guide your legs up until your knees were on either side of your head.

You looked down at him in curiosity, not yet understanding what it was he wanted to do.

Noticing your expression, he wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull your dripping pussy closer to his mouth.

“I’m gonna let you finish, baby, but it’s gotta be on my mouth. Sit.”

“You…” you hesitated for a second, feeling your face redden, “you want me to sit on your face? What if I crush you? Or suffocate you?’’

He chuckled at your concern, lovingly caressing your thighs, “You won’t, trust me. It’ll feel good, I promise. Besides, If you did suffocate me? I don’t think I’d wanna go any other way.”

You laughed nervously and let him pull you down further, sinking onto his face. His tongue swiped up your folds and you gripped the headboard so you wouldn’t fall forward.

“Jesus, Logan,” you gasped, your other hand gripping his hair, “feels so fucking good.”

“Uh-huh, told you, princess. Jus’ lemme take care of you,” he mumbled into your pussy, eating you like he was starved. He moved his head back and forth and up and down to lick every inch of you he could.

“I think I would’ve - ah, would’ve said somethin’ to you much sooner if I knew you could do this,” you joked a little, your small chuckle turning into a gasp when he slipped his tongue even further down so he was inside you. He hummed into you, his nose nudging against your clit. You began to grind your hips back and forth over his mouth, drunk off the way he moved his tongue.

“Atta girl,” he grunted, “use me, c’mon.”

His hairy arms were hooked around your thighs like a vice, to the point that you couldn’t lift your hips even if you wanted to. When his eyes weren’t trained on you above him, they were squeezed shut in an attempt to savor every second his tongue was in your pussy. He was pulling your thighs forward every time you rocked yourself back and forth, desperate to feel you come on - in - his mouth.

You could already feel the pressure building in your stomach. The obscene wet noises coming from his mouth messily eating your cunt didn’t do much to ease it, either. Your eyes rolled back and you continued to ride his face, mouth hung open in ecstasy. Logan could tell you were close just from how sloppy your movements had become.

“Gonna come for me already, honey?”

You hated how hot it was when he teased you, mocked your desperation.

“Fuck, yeah,” you groaned, your hips rolling forward.

“Lemme see it, pretty girl, come for me.”

You gasped at the filth spilling from his lips into you. It was more than enough to finally make the tension snap in your lower stomach, still rocking your hips over his mouth while you whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer.

Logan was practically growling into your cunt, feeling your muscles contract around his prodding tongue. He was trying to catch anything that possibly came from your release. You tasted good, but when you finished? Even fucking better.

“Lo-Logan, too much, s’ too much,” you tried to protest as he kept your thighs locked around his face, still lapping at you without slowing his pace. He hummed in response and finally let you go when he was sure he’d licked you clean.

You lifted your hips and moved to sit beside him on your heels, almost in pain at the loss of physical contact. When you finally got to see his face, his lips were red and raw, his chin and even the side of his cheeks coated in your slick. You watched in awe as he wiped his cheek, bringing his hand up to his mouth after to lick it clean.

“Taste fucking amazing,” he assured you, keeping his eyes on yours when he sucked on one of his fingers.

You caught sight of his obvious and rather large erection and your mouth began to water. Once again, you were lost in the thought of how good it would be to feel the weight of his cock in your mouth.

“You alright, baby?”

“Yeah, I - um,” you sighed, leaning forward on your hands, “can I - can I have it in my mouth? Just for a little bit?”

Your hand rested on his hip, fingers grazing the waistband of his sweatpants, dangerously close.

“Shit,” he huffed, his cock twitching from the anticipation, “you wanna?”

You nodded eagerly, pulling his pants and boxers down his thighs when he lifted his hips.

“Hey,” he tenderly stopped your hand as you reached to touch him, “I’m tellin’ you now, girl - you can suck it ‘cause you asked so nicely but I’m not comin’ unless it’s in you.”

He let go of your wrist and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, continuing to speak.

“I can fill your throat another time, yeah?”

You were speechless, lidded eyes switching from his face to his swollen cock and back again. You nodded in agreement.

You guessed Logan would be big - he was generally a large guy - but you could feel the drool gathering in your mouth when his cock sprung out of his boxers to hit his stomach. He was fucking huge. You might’ve been nervous if you weren’t so eager to fit him into your mouth. You finally leaned down to wrap a hand around the base of his cock, softly licking at his leaking tip.

Logan threaded your hair between his fingers, gathering as much as he could to form a makeshift ponytail that was held together by his fist.

“Like seein’ your pretty face. You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”

His words only spurred you on and you gathered as much saliva as possible so you could spit onto his cock. When you did, you started to stroke him in a slow rhythm that had him rocking his hips towards your hand already. His mouth hung open and his eyes were glued to your movements, watching you work your hand up and down. Your spit coated your hand and his cock to the point that it was dripping down his balls.

The moment you finally closed your mouth around him, he was practically a mess.

You took him as deep as you could, relaxing your throat and steadily breathing. You gagged as his tip hit the back of your throat and he groaned. He watched your head bob up and down while you simultaneously stroked whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth. He huffed out your name in between cursing under his breath. His gaze caught the mirror he’d nearly forgotten about and he could’ve came just from the sight of your mouth drooling around him.

“So good, baby,” he sighed, licking his lips, “you look so pretty suckin’ my cock.”

You reveled in the praises spilling from his lips. Chasing more, you used your hand that wasn’t around him to cup his balls and massage gently. He actually whimpered and you could feel Logan’s legs start to shake a bit.

“Alright, enough - ,” he grunted, using his grip on your hair to pull your mouth from him and push your hand away.

You almost looked hurt, pouting while looking between him and his glistening cock. Truthfully, you liked the taste of him. Loved it, really, so much so that you had to hold back from diving right back into position. Just the idea had you clenching your thighs together when you thought of it. When your mouth was already on him? You were so wet again that it was starting to smear across your inner thighs.

“Sorry, doll,” he apologized while swiping fallen strands of hair from your face, “too close.”

It felt exhilarating being able to turn big, bad, scary Wolverine into a whimpering mess after only a couple minutes in your mouth.

“I’m gonna come in you,” he reiterated, “gonna make you mine.”

You just about melted into putty from his words.

“ ‘m yours, ‘v been yours.”

Your voice was desperate and you crawled onto him, straddling his hips. Your bare cunt slid against the base of his cock and his hips jerked up.

“Fuck,” he panted, “you wanna know somethin’? Been thinking about this for so long, even when I thought you hated me - I couldn’t help it.”

“Me too,” you replied, hands on his chest to steady yourself, “even when I thought you hated me. Used to think - to think about jus’ getting you alone.”

“Yeah?” He teased, one of his hands coming down to align his cock with your entrance, “what did you think about doing when you got me alone, hm?”

“I - ah, f-fuck,” you tried to speak, stuttering when he started to slip himself in as slowly as possible, “letting you fuck me, having - having your fingers in me.”

“So, is it as good as you imagined?”

“Mm,” you tried to respond and only whined from the pressure of Logan pushing you down further onto his cock and stretching you out, “better, it’s better.”

“You think you can take all of it, sweetheart?”

“I need it, please, please, Logan - need you.”

You could rarely recognize your own voice, strained and desperate.

“Only ‘cause you begged so nice.”

In one hard thrust, he pushed your hips down onto his.

Your jaw hung open and your eyes rolled back into your head. You’d never felt so fucking full before, like he reached every inch of where you wanted him.

“Fucking - Christ, Logan, you - ah,” your sentence was cut off when he began to grind up into you, using his grip on your hips to keep you steady and gently help guide you up and down.

“Hm? What, baby?”

When you sat back down on him, he used an iron grip to keep you where you were, pushing himself as far into you as he possibly could. The friction on your clit made your pussy twitch and he definitely felt it, pulling you back and forth a little bit.

Again, you couldn’t speak - too distracted by the indescribable feeling of having him sheathed completely inside you. Your eyes started to water, tears forming from the overwhelming pleasure in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck me,” you nearly sobbed, leaning forward to bury your face in his neck, “please, please.”

He finally let you lift your hips up and down again and you were a whining fucking mess. Logan could see over your shoulder into the mirror and he marveled at the white ring you left around the base of his cock every time you lifted your hips. You were messy, exactly how he wanted you - he’d probably lick you clean after, if you’d let him.

You were rambling into his neck, panting, “so fucking - you’re so big, oh my god, need you all - ah - all the time.”

He was smirking to himself, smug from how he was able to fuck you to the point that you were just letting go completely - telling him every thought that popped into your mind while you were still on top of him. You worked yourself up to a steady rhythm and he indulged in the image of your tits bouncing above him when you sat up.

“So good, honey - takin’ me so well, like you were made for me,” he groaned. His eyes never left yours.

“ ‘m made for - for you,” you slurred, rolling your hips.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s this pussy belong to, huh? Tell me.”

“Yours, I - it’s yours, Logan.”

Your thighs started to ache pretty quickly, your pace faltering as he kept steadily drilling up into you.

“Are you sore, baby? You wanna switch?”

His voice was so soft in comparison to how he was speaking moments earlier through gritted teeth. You nodded and let him lay you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead, both cheeks, the tip of your nose and finally, your lips. You were absolutely giddy from the sickly sweet moments you shared inbetween the times where he was fucking you so hard you were out of breath.

Your ankles locked behind Logan’s back to pull him into you while he tried to guide himself with his hand. He slipped back in effortlessly and ground his hips forward, pinning you down to the mattress. One of his arms was snaked around your back to hold you closer and the other was holding your wrists together above your head.

His hips rolled forward and he hit a spot inside of you that made the fire in the pit of your stomach rise.

You choked out a sob and tried to squirm in an attempt to free your wrists, but you both knew there was no way you’d wiggle out of his grip unless he let you. To no surprise, a man made of mostly metal was almost impossibly strong when he pinned you down with his hands and hips.

“I gotcha’.” he panted, so close that your noses brushed together when he thrust forward, “you’re not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

As if you’d want to move from your spot underneath him.

Your eyes caught the shining metal of the dog tags hanging from his neck, swinging back and forth over your chest when he moved. When you looked back up to his face, his eyes were boring into yours. His face was flushed and his mouth hung open, sweat accumulating on his brow. He looked fucking gorgeous. You were going to tell him so, try to lean up to kiss him, but he spoke again before you could.

“I’m in love with you - ‘m so in love with you, you know that?”

The pace of his thrusts quickened and you could’ve cried at the sincerity had he not been drilling into you so hard that you could barely open your eyes.

“I - I’m, ah - in love with - with you, too,” you choked out between gasps.

“So pretty,” he muttered, finally letting go of your wrists so he could hold your chin to force you to keep your eyes on him, “i’m so fucking lucky.”

It was all too much - the sincere adoration in his voice combined with the filthy way he was snapping his hips into yours - and you could feel the knot in your lower stomach start to come undone.

“Logan, fuck, I’m -,” you tried to tell him you were close, but his thrusts were knocking the wind out of you.

“God, please - c’mon, c’mon,” he was pleading through gritted teeth, trying with everything in him to hold back from coming before you did. His hand slipped between your bodies so he could draw tight circles around your clit and your eyes squeezed shut in ecstacy.

You were chanting his name after a couple more strokes, tears rolling down the side of your face while he pounded you through your orgasm. You were practically seeing stars, your legs shaking around his waist.

He could feel your muscles contract around him and his movements became sloppy. He was grunting with every roll of his hips, muttering praises under his breath.

So fucking pretty

Look so beautiful like this

So perfect

He was spilling into you seconds later, animalistically groaning into your ear. His hips slowed to a halt, his arms still wrapped around you. You were both shiny and sticky with sweat, panting with flushed faces. When he pulled his face from your ear, he was beaming like an idiot, already drowsy.

“Was that good, baby?”

He was still out of breath, using one arm to weakly hold himself above you while he stroked your hair.

“Are you serious? More than good,” you chuckled, “amazing.”

He tenderly kissed your forehead and rolled beside you, immediately wrapping you in his arms.

“Don’t we have to clean up?” you asked, eyes already starting to flutter closed.

“Mhm,” he hummed, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck, “can do it later - wanna cuddle.”

You grinned wide, amused by how damn cute he was. You simply hummed in agreement, resting your hand over his.

“Logan?”

“Mm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

A/N: I had to close my laptop and walk away a a couple time while writing this so I hope it drives you as insane as it did me! I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

If you enjoyed, thank you for reading and pls like/reblog!! <3 and thank u sm for the love on part 1!

#wolverine #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine fic #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett fic #logan howlet smut #logan howlett smut #logan wolverine #wolverine smut #smut

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eveninggstar · 4 months ago

Text

victory lap ⊹ ࣪ ˖

lando norris x rival!Mercedes!reader

26.08.24

୨ৎLando proposes a bet that if he gets pole and wins from pole in Zandvoort then he gets to not use a condom next time you and him have sex.

୨ৎ back one page ୨ৎ back two pages

smut

unprotected p in v sex, kinda bratty reader, lando smacks readers ass twice, sex on the floor, lando is controlling but in a good way, probs more

ngl this is prob the best smut ive ever written so far lol kinda like this one bc i love lando two wins!!! Also this is pretty long i dont know how many words

The tension between you and Lando had been building up for years. The two of you were rivals on the track, always pushing each other to the limit, but beneath that fierce competition lay something neither of you could ignore—an undeniable sexual tension that everyone seemed to notice. The paddock was rife with rumours, and even your respective teams had exchanged knowing glances whenever the two of you were around each other.

It all came to a head one balmy summer evening at Zandvoort. The Dutch Grand Prix was notorious for its challenging circuit and passionate fans, and both of you were ready to put on a show.

You were lounging in your driver room, going over your strategy for the weekend when Lando sauntered in, a cocky grin plastered on his face. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his McLaren race suit unzipped just enough to give a glimpse of his undershirt. He was clearly up to something.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice dripping with that signature mix of charm and mischief. “How confident are you feeling about this weekend?”

You looked up from your notes, meeting his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Confident enough to wipe that smug look off your face, Norris. Why do you ask?”

Lando chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking over to you. “Well, I was thinking... How about we make things a little more interesting this weekend?”

Your curiosity was piqued. “Oh? And what exactly did you have in mind?”

He leaned in close, his arms draped around your shoulder and his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Let’s make a bet. If I get pole position and win from pole, then the next time we have sex i don't wear a condom." He stayed silent for a few seconds, then leaning his face closer to your ear so his nose flattened, "Let me finish inside of you, baby."

A shiver ran down your spine at his bold proposition. You knew Lando liked to push boundaries, but this was a whole new level. Still, you weren’t one to back down from a challenge, especially not from him.

“And what do I get if you don’t?” you asked, your voice steady despite the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

“If I don’t win from pole, you get to call the shots next time,” Lando replied, his eyes darkening with the unspoken promises laced in his words.

You leaned back in your chair, pretending to consider it, even though you already knew your answer. “Alright, Norris. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Saturday came around, and the atmosphere at Zandvoort was electric. The roar of the crowd, the smell of burning rubber, and the thrill of competition all combined to create an intoxicating environment. Qualifying was intense, with both you and Lando pushing your cars to the absolute limit.

“Lando Norris takes pole position!” the announcer’s voice boomed across the circuit.

You clenched your fists, a mix of frustration and anticipation bubbling within you. Lando had done it—step one of the bet was complete. But there was still the race to come, and you were determined to give him a run for his money.

Race day dawned bright and clear, the sun shining down on the packed grandstands. You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you strapped into your Mercedes, your focus narrowing down to the task at hand. The lights went out, and the race began with a flurry of motion.

Lando held his position at the front, but you were right on his tail, refusing to give him an inch. Lap after lap, you pressed him, looking for any opportunity to overtake, but he defended fiercely, his car perfectly placed at every turn. The tension between you both was palpable, each of you pushing the other to the brink.

As the race neared its conclusion, you realized that Lando was going to pull it off. He had driven impeccably, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t find a way past him. At this point you were nowhere near him. He had a 20 second lead and had lapped over half the grid.

Your heart sank as the reality of the situation set in. Lando had won the bet. As you pulled into the pit lane, you saw him celebrating with his team, his face lit up with triumph. But when he caught your eye, his smile turned into something more—something darker, filled with desire.

Later that evening, after all the interviews and celebrations, you found yourself in Lando’s motorhome. The air between you crackled with anticipation as he closed the door behind him, shutting out the world.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and rough, “I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed winning a race this much.”

You swallowed hard, your body already responding to the heat in his gaze. “You got lucky, Norris.”

He smirked, stepping closer until you were backed up against the wall. “I think we both know it wasn’t just luck, Y/N. Now, are you ready to pay up?”

Your breath hitched as he pressed his body against yours, his hands sliding up your sides. You could feel his heart pounding in time with your own, the intensity between you both reaching a fever pitch.

“You won fair and square,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Lando’s eyes darkened, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. It was fierce, filled with all the pent-up desire that had been simmering between you for so long. His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.

Lando didn't waste anytime before he urged you backwards towards the sofa. Your mouths slotted together and his hands groped and explored your body, going from your chest to your thighs. His hands manoeuvred the remains of your race suit to the floor, only leaving you in your fireproofs. With the reduced barrier, he could easily press against you causing you to let out many gasps and a few tugs to his hair.

Pulling away slightly, you mumbled into his mouth, “Lan, hurry up.”

He paused, eyes scattering over your features. His face was no longer the happy winner everyone outside saw. He was now drunk with a lust filled haze. He lifted himself up off of you slightly, bringing a hand to your face and caressing it with the utmost care. His breath felt warm against your face, causing your eyes to flutter shut. The calmness you were experiencing was cut short by the strong grip Lando had on your face, squeezing your cheeks and puckering your lips.

"You're the one needing to be faster." He practically growled, looking deep into your eyes. "Remind me who came first." He paused, awaiting your answer. "Who won the bet?" His voice sent shivers down your spine.

"You," you mumbled, then began to smile as his hand drifted to your neck. He returned the smile and slowly moved his face to the underside on your jaw. He kissed it sweetly, then tightened his grip.

"Louder, baby." He commanded, his words dark but mixed with the feather light kisses sent your head into another dimension.

"You!" You spoke up, earning a nip to your neck. He then came back to your face to then deepen the kiss you had earlier.

He moved your lower body so he could fit more comfortably between your legs. Your hands desperately gripped at his damp hair, needing to hold anything to ground yourself.

You felt the hand around your neck slowly trail down the length of your body before settling at your groin. Your legs attempted to close shut, although his waist was preventing you from doing that. He began to work at your clothed clit, his thumb easily circling over the smooth fabric.

"Uh-" your voice cut off as he pressed on the dampening fabric harder.

"There you go, you're speeding up. Getting wet so quickly," He spoke condescendingly as he nuzzled his nose in your cheek. "Why cant you be like this on track?" He began to mouth at your neck, causing you to let out a breathy moan. As much as you hated Lando's cockiness, god was it hot.

“Shush.” You moaned, an audible show of your composure.

You could barely speak, Lando's thumb never faltering on your soaking clit. His body was overwhelming you, and you started to squirm. However, that same thumb stopped giving pleasure. Before you could protest, he was hastily ripping your fireproofs off. This left you bare and flushed below him. Your chest heaving up and down as his eyes scanned over our body.

He leaned up to nip at your ear, surely leaving a mark this time, as you expelled a breath of pleasure as his fingers worked their way into your slit.

Your words were lost on you, wanting to ask when he was going to get to the real reason of your bet. But in all honestly, you didn't care if he would carry on pleasuring you. However, you did want his fingers to enter you, to leave you wanting more of a stretch for days after.

His fingers left your aching cunt, leaving it to pulsate rhythmically. You reached out to hold his hand, an iron bruising grip you're sure of it. His race suit clad crotch bumped against your bare one, giving a shock of unexpected pleasure.

"Lan!" you practically yelled, your squeal bouncing off of the surrounding walls.

He shushed you, then ordered you to not touch yourself. He slowly slinked up off of the sofa, eyes solely focused of your slightly twitching body. The rest of his race suit joined yours on the floor, in addition to his fireproofs.

His cock sprung free, the tip beat red and dripping at the sight of you. Lando stood proud for what felt like forever. His left thumb was stroking his lip as he shook his head in the opposite direction. That's when he uttered-

"Get on the floor."

You submissive sex haze briefly broke, thinking you heard him wrong.

"The floor?" You pushed your body up, looking at him like he just asked you to get on the floor like an animal. Oh wait-

"I won the bet, baby." He smirked, eyes still raking over your nude body. "Floor, there's not enough space on the sofa for us."

With a sigh and a reluctant nod, you melted your way off of the sofa. You knew the position he wanted you in, he rarely fucked you when not in it. You laid on the floor for a few seconds, collecting yourself. Lando saw you laying there, not having you be a pillow princess he ordered you to-

"Flip around, ass up. I know!" You rolled your eyes, then did it. What you didn't expect was a harsh smack to your ass. You let out a mixture of a moan and a sound on pain.

"Enough of the bratty attitude," He smacked your ass lighter this time then gripping the plump, reddening flesh.

Finally, you thought, the head of his cock began to notch at your entrance. His fingers had intertwined with the nodded strands of your hair and he pulled up as his dick pushed into your cunt in a swift motion.

You both let out a groan of pleasure. Lando held himself there, letting you and himself adjust to the jaw dropping pleasure. This was the first time the pair of you were having sex without a condom, and god did it already feel a million times better. The pair of you had to focus to not cum straight away.

No words were needed between the four walls of you sex filled haven, as Lando thrusted into you. His palms splayed on your hips controlled your movements as his relentlessly bullied his cock further and further into you. You hands struggled to hold onto something, eventually finding solace in Lando's fireproofs.

His name was chanted like a prayer from you, in return you got delicious sounding moans and groans from behind you. You were sure his face didn't look all that different to yours in the moment. Pleasure filled, and only focused on the other.

His repetitive ruts and the bruising grip on your hips rendered you speechless. You wanted to say keep going, feels so good. But that was the problem, since the pleasure was that unbelievable you couldn't say. The loud sounds of sex echoed as your skin slapped in a fast tempo, each smack more pleasureful than the last.

Lando leaned closer to you, chest flat of you back. At every thrust you could feel the tense of his abs and the perspiration drip onto your equally sweaty skin. He began to mouth at your neck, settling for small thrusts whilst he was buried at the hilt. One on his hands slithered away from your hips and found solace on your breast.

His hot breath spread across your neck and down your spine as you shivered. His moans had turned to grunts and pants.

"Like it when you can feel me this good?" He grinned into your hair, leaving small kisses in his wake. "Like it when your this full?"

You wanted to nod, only giving a weak, stuttered head movement. The remaining hand on your hip drifted to your swollen clit. He helped ease you to completion.

"Aren't you glad I got pole." He teased you. "That I won. You wouldn't feel this good if I didn't."

You whimpered at his words, too turned on to be annoyed that he won and you didn't. But yeah, you were happy he won. He doesn't have to know that though.

You wanted to tease him, give him payback to what you were feeling, what you always felt with him, however none of that would be happening. He knew you like he knew the tracks the pair of you frequented, and knew that you were actual putty in his hands this very moment.

He picked up his pace, resulting you to let out loud moans and sexual noises of the like. The speed of his thrusts felt as if his dick was going to come out, luckily it didn't and you got the full pleasure.

His fingers at your clit sped up, he sensed how close you were solely on how your body tensed up.

"Come on, you can cum for me. I know you can-"

His hand came up as fast as his reflexes allowed, as you came. He slowly reduced the pleasure he was giving to your clit and eventually reached his own high. Your neck vibrated at the animalistic groan he let out into it.

Needless to say, the pair of you would be having more bets like this.

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

taglist: (comment if you wanna be added)

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #mclaren f1 #mclaren #fem!reader #f1 #lando smut #lando norris smut #f1 smut #mercedesdriver!reader #rivals au #rival smut

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waayoutofline · 3 months ago

Text

Like Seeing A Ghost.

Marvel Masterlist

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Prompt: Married life and family core.

Summary: Your teenage daughter changed styles, and you cant help but be remained of a certain someone.

Warnings: None. Just love and fluff.

WORD COUNT: 1489

AN: I wrote this under the wonderful influence of sleep depravation. I just corrected it grammatically. It’s the first time I have written a family related prompt, so sorry but it’ll probably be a bit cringey :´). YDN stands for: Your daughters name btw—

It was a quiet day in the Maximoff household, a rare sense of calm settling over the space. Humming softly, you switched off the vacuum and put it away, satisfied with the tidiness of the room. The peaceful silence was soon interrupted by the doorbell, drawing your attention with mild curiosity. “I’ve got it!” you called, making your way to the door. You didn’t need to check the peephole, you already knew who it was. “Darling, finally! Your mother is almost finished with—oh dear gods.”

You froze as your 16-year-old daughter stepped inside. Taking in her appearance, your eyes widened in surprise. She shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, clearly bracing herself for the reaction that didn’t come as quickly as she expected.

Gone were her typical morning clothes, replaced by a more alternative look. She wore an oversized black t-shirt featuring an old rock band, her arms covered in fishnet sleeves, fingers adorned with silver rings and chains. Her makeup, though still a work-in-progress, was heavy with black eyeliner and smudged dark red eyeshadow. A silver cross dangled from her freshly pierced ear. She completed the outfit with a mid-length skirt and red Converse sneakers. If it weren’t for her eyes—the same color as yours—you might not have recognized her at first. But even then, the look wasn’t unfamiliar. She resembled someone else you knew all too well.

“It’s… it’s—” you began, voice faltering. Your daughter braced herself even more, her posture defiant, though you could see flickers of uncertainty in her expression. That defiant stance finally broke your composure.

“It’s like seeing a ghost! Oh, my beautiful girl,” you exclaimed, bursting into delighted laughter. “It’s like going back in time. Wanda come here please!” you called out, grinning at the uncanny resemblance.

Your heart swelled with nostalgia and amusement. You never thought you’d see such a familiar look on your own child, yet here she was, carrying a piece of the past into the present.

“What is it, love? Is it Y/D/N? I made her favorite,” Wanda called, wiping her hands with a kitchen towel before stopping abruptly. “Oh wow. This is… definitely a surprise.”

Your daughter, tired of the mixed reactions from both of you, crossed her arms defensively. “Before you say anything—no, I didn’t get any piercings or tattoos. But this is how I want to dress from now on. And if you have any issues with it, then…”

Your eyes softened at the sight of her defiance fading into vulnerability. You glanced at Wanda, who nodded. “Honey, you don’t owe us any explanations,” she said gently.

“I… don’t?” Y/D/N repeated, tentatively. You took a step forward, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Of course not. You know your mom and I want you to discover who you are. All we care about is that you don’t hurt yourself in the process. Why would you think we’d be upset?”

Your daughter’s shoulders relaxed as the tension eased. “A… friend of mine dresses like this, and her parents didn’t take it well. They told her if she didn’t dress ‘normal,’ they’d send her to some creepy summer camp.”

Wanda frowned. “Well, they’re idiots.” Your daughter smiled at that. “They are! Like your mom said, we’ll never judge you for who you are. All we want is for you to be safe and happy.”

With that, she smiled and pulled you both into a hug. “Thanks for being such cool parents.” You exchanged a glance with Wanda and hugged her back.

“I mean… if we weren’t, we’d be total hypocrites.” Your daughter tilted her head in curiosity, prompting a laugh from you as you moved toward the living room.

Wanda scoffed. “Oh, don’t you dare, Y/N,” she warned playfully, following close behind, already anticipating your next move. Before she could stop you, you pulled out the family photo album. Your daughter plopped down next to you on the couch, while Wanda took her place on the armrest, wearing a mock pout.

Flipping through the pages, you found what you were looking for. “Why haven’t I seen this before?” Y/D/N asked, eyes wide with interest.

“These are from years before you were born,” you explained softly, turning the album’s pages with care. “Most were taken when your mother and I first met. We kept them hidden… because she was a little shy about them.”

Wanda playfully nudged your arm, her smile a little bashful. “Do you really have to show them? I’d like for our daughter to still respect me, you know.”

You grinned, glancing at your daughter. “Of course, I do! I mean, just look at her. You two are practically twins—it’s adorable.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, though her blush deepened. “You’re having too much fun with this.”

As you flipped another page, your daughter gasped, eyes widening in disbelief. Wanda’s face turned a deep shade of red as she quickly covered her face with her hands, her embarrassment palpable. You, however, couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face. “Mom, why didn’t you tell me you were so cool?” Y/D/N exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over as she snatched the album from you, flipping through the pictures like a child on Christmas morning.

“What do you mean “were”?” Wanda huffed in mock offense. “I’m still cool!”

A brief silence followed, punctuated only by Wanda’s playful exasperation. You reached out, squeezing her hand, the warmth of her skin grounding both of you. The resemblance between mother and daughter was striking, as if time had folded in on itself. “That picture,” you said, pointing to a particular one, “was taken around the time I first met your mom. She was this emo, tough, and incredibly intimidating girl—” You started dramatically, glancing at Wanda, who shot you a half-hearted glare.

“Okay, okay, no need to humiliate me further,” Wanda cut in, trying to maintain some shred of dignity.

“Humiliate?” You softened your voice, your eyes meeting hers. “That was the version of you I fell in love with.” You turned another page, your tone warm and nostalgic. “I mean, the whole ‘bad girl’ thing really worked for me.”

“Mom, gross!” Y/D/N laughed, wrinkling her nose in mock disgust.

You nudged her playfully. “Oh, hush. What I’m trying to say is… I fell in love with that Wanda, and every version after her.”

With each page you turned, years passed in the photographs. Different styles, changing haircuts, moments of growth captured in still images. But one thing remained constant—your love.

“…and the next,” you continued quietly. “Because that’s what love is. It’s not about how someone dresses or looks. It’s about loving them for who they are, through every version, and with how they express themselves to the world.”

You closed the album gently and reached for your daughter’s hands, holding them tenderly. “That’s why no matter how you choose to present yourself, it will never change how we feel about you. You are our daughter, and we will always love you—no matter what.” Y/D/N smiled, her eyes bright with relief and understanding. Wanda, still blushing from your words, looked at both of you with so much love that it was almost overwhelming. A sudden thought crossed her mind, her lips curving into a small, playful smile.

“You know,” Wanda began, her voice light, “if you’re interested, I still have some of those clothes.”

Your daughter’s eyes lit up. “No way.”

“Oh yes, way. Why don’t you start by heading up to the attic? I’ll join you in a sec.”

In an instant, your daughter gave Wanda a quick, excited hug before practically running towards the stairs. You and Wanda exchanged a glance, bursting into quiet laughter. As you stood up, Wanda caught you by the waist, pulling you close, her eyes filled with nothing but love. For a moment, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you. She leaned in and kissed you, slow and tender.

“Mama! Do you still have that red jacket?” your daughter called from upstairs, breaking the moment. Wanda sighed, chuckling under her breath as she pulled away.

“I do!” Wanda called back, her voice filled with affection. “In fact, that jacket I stole from Auntie Nat!”

Another excited shriek echoed down the stairs, and you both shared a fond look.

“I better go before she tears down the attic,” Wanda said with a small smile, taking a step back.

You nodded, watching her as she began to leave, but she paused at the doorway and turned back, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Hey,” she whispered, “I am cool, right?”

A full, hearty laugh escaped you, the sound filling the room with warmth. “Yeah, Wanda. You’re the coolest.”

Wanda grinned, the playful tension melting away as she disappeared up the stairs, leaving you with a heart full of love and a smile that lingered long after she was gone.

#wanda maximoff #mcu #fluff #wanda x reader #blurb #wanda maximoff x reader #future AU #one shot

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nhlclover · 3 months ago

Text

TREACHEROUS LUKE HUGHES

pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: this slope is treacherous, this path is reckless. this slope is treacherous and you like it.

warnings: loosely based on 'treacherous' by taylor swift, childhood friends to lovers, heated make out, luke & reader being awkward a little bit, appearances from jack, quinn, mark, and ethan

word count: 5.06k

notes: literally the longest thing i've ever written omg but i hope you guys enjoy!!

The summer sun blazed down on the lake house, casting bright rays onto the water and the worn-down wooden dock, where you and Luke sat side by side, your fingers inches apart but never touching. The shimmering lake stretched out before you, a mirror reflecting the clear blue sky and the occasional ripple from a passing boat. It was the familiar scene of your summers, but this summer felt different — more charged, more intense.

You and Luke had always been inseparable since childhood. The backyard games, the bike races down the hill, the late-night chats under the stars—those moments had forged a bond that felt unbreakable. But beneath the surface of that easy camaraderie, there had always been something more—a secret, unspoken longing that neither of you had dared to voice. As you both grew older, the simple crushes you had harboured blossomed into something more profound, but you both chose to keep those feelings hidden, afraid of ruining the one relationship that had always been your rock.

This summer, as you and Luke reunited at the lake house, the tension between you was palpable. The familiar comfort of your shared experiences was now tinged with a new, almost unbearable intensity. Every look you exchanged seemed to linger longer than usual, every touch felt more significant. The boundary between friendship and something more had become increasingly blurred, and it was becoming harder to ignore.

One morning, as you were in the kitchen making breakfast, Luke appeared in the doorway. His presence was as familiar as the morning sun, but today, there was something different in his eyes—an earnestness that made your heart race.

“Hey, wanna go on a boat ride with me?” he asked, his voice casual but with an undertone that you couldn’t quite place.

You glanced up from your toast, meeting his gaze. “Yeah, sure,” you replied, a slight smile tugging at your lips as you finished buttering your piece of toast. “Quinn and Jack coming?”

“No, no,” he said shaking his head, a small smile tugging on his lips. “Just me ‘n you.”

The simplicity of his offer was almost too loaded to process. You could feel the heat of the sun on your skin and the way the space between you seemed to shrink. You nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

“Y-yeah sounds good,” you say. “Just let me finish breakfast and then I’ll go get ready.”

“Of course, take your time,” Luke said, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned and left the kitchen. You finished your breakfast in a daze, your mind racing with thoughts about the boat ride.

After breakfast, you quickly changed into your swimsuit, grabbing a hoodie from the pile of clothing that accumulated on the armchair in the corner of your room. You examined it quickly, realizing it was one of Luke’s Michigan hoodies that you had borrowed earlier in the week during a bonfire.

You found Luke waiting at the dock, the boat bobbing gently in the water. “Ready?” he asked, his voice steady as he helped you onto the boat.

“Yeah,” you replied, settling into one of the seats. The boat ride started out in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the hum of the engine and the lapping of water against the hull. As the boat moved further out onto the lake, Luke kept glancing at you, his eyes flicking from the water to your face as if he were trying to gauge your mood.

It wasn’t until you approached the tiny, rocky island, that you realized where Luke was taking you. It was the small island you’d found when just after Luke had gotten his boater’s licence. It had become your own little private oasis that the two of you would visit just to relax, using the privacy of the space to talk about whatever had been bothering you or whatever was on your mind.

Luke put the boat in neutral, allowing it to slowly float up to the rocky shore. He hopped out, steadying it before the bottom would scrape, then turned to you. "Hand me the anchor."

You obliged, tossing the towels to him first, then reaching for the small anchor. As you handed it over, Luke teased, “Not too heavy for you?”

You rolled your eyes behind your shades. “It’s like 13 pounds, Luke. Fuck off.”

He snorted, taking it from your hands and lodging it on a nearby rock. “Here, take my hand so you don’t fall on your face.” Luke said, extending his hand to help you down onto the shore.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, though Luke couldn’t see that behind your shades. You grabbed his hand, feeling the heat of the sun still clinging to his skin. As you hopped down, your foot slipped on the wet surface, and for a split second, you thought you were about to fall face-first into the water.

But Luke’s grip tightened, his other hand reaching out to catch you by the waist, steadying you before you could stumble any further. “Don’t worry, I got you,” he murmured, his voice soft, yet steady.

Your heart skipped a beat, and as you stood there for a moment, pressed against him, you could feel the tension thick between you. “Thanks,” you breathed out, stepping back once you found your balance, though the warmth of his hand lingered.

You moved to the towels Luke had tossed onto the sun-warmed rocks moments ago, straightening one out and lying on it, putting your arm over your eyes. Luke lingered by the boat a moment longer, watching you, his heart still pounding. He took a deep breath and sat beside you, staring out at the water, wondering how much longer he could pretend nothing had changed.

You sat in silence, the birds cawing in the air and the splashing water providing a nice background noise. Luke glanced over at your body lying just a foot away from him, your tanned skin glistening under the beating Michigan sun. Luke couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He felt dirty for staring at you like this; staring at your chest that was just barely covered by a teal bikini, rising and falling rhythmically as you breathed. Your stack of gold necklaces rested on your clavicle and Luke couldn’t fight off the thoughts about marking your collarbone with lovebites.

“I missed this,” you said suddenly, Luke snapping his head forward to focus on the water that lapped steadily against the shore.

He swallowed hard, trying to shake the heat that consumed him — not just from the sun, but from the way his mind was racing. “Missed what?”

“This,” you replied with a soft smile, lifting a hand to gesture around. “The lake, the sun, the quiet… just being here. It feels like nothing else matters for a while, you know?”

Luke let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He dared to glance over at you again, this time his eyes landing on your head — your eyes were still covered by your arm, but he had the perfect view of your plump lips, as well as the way the sunlight caught in your hair, making it shine like it was woven with gold.

Luke shifted uncomfortably, forcing his eyes to the water once again, trying to ignore the fire burning inside him. He wanted to say something — anything — to break the silence, but his mind was a mess, tangled with everything he’d been holding back for so long.

“I get that,” he finally managed, his voice quiet. “Feels like… everything else just disappears out here.”

You nodded, still lying back with your arm draped over your eyes. “Yeah, exactly. No distractions. Just us.”

The simplicity of your words hit him harder than he expected. “Just us.” Luke bit the inside of his cheek, knowing full well how dangerous those two words felt right now. He was suddenly acutely aware of how close you were — the soft rise and fall of your chest, the small space between your bodies.

You sat up, stretching your arms over your head, the movement catching Luke’s attention again. You glanced at him, your eyes hidden behind sunglasses but the tension was palpable. “You okay?”

Luke nodded a little too quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?” You tilted your head, watching him curiously.

Luke’s eyes involuntarily traced your face, landing on your lips a moment longer. Your breath hitched, the air between you charged with something unspoken but very real. “Yeah… really good.”

And just like that, the distance between you vanished.

It happened fast, almost like you both decided at the same moment. One second you were staring at him, heart racing, and the next his lips were on yours, the kiss electric and urgent. You didn’t know who moved first, and you didn’t care.

All the years of restraint, of not crossing the line, melted away as your lips moved together. Your hands found Luke’s curls, tugging on them slightly which elicited a groan from him. You moved onto his lap, no longer oblivious to the physical toll you had taken on Luke. His hands hesitated at first, but then they slid down your sides, his touch searing. He traced down your ribcage, onto your waist, then finally settled on your ass.

The kiss deepened, both of you getting lost in the moment as the years of pent-up tension finally released in waves. You tugged on his roots, causing him to squeeze your ass tightly, a low grumbling coming from his throat. Your fingers untangled from his brown locks, tracing down Luke’s shoulders and onto his torso, feeling the curves of his abs under your fingertips. Luke shivered beneath you despite the burning sun that shone down.

You finally pulled back, the both of you gasping for air, your chests rising and falling rapidly. Your gaze dropped to his slightly swollen lips, then to his bare chest glistening in the sunlight. The intensity of the moment suddenly caught up to you — his hands still gripping your ass, his body warm and hard beneath yours. You realized the position you were in, straddling him, looking dishevelled as one of your bikini straps had slipped down your shoulder, exposing a deep tan line.

Luke’s eyes followed the movement, his pupils blown wide as he swallowed hard. The weight of everything you two had held back over the years came crashing down on him. His grip on your waist loosened, his hands hovering as he was unsure of what to do next. You felt the tension in the air shift, both of you realizing you’d crossed a line that you couldn’t un-cross, no matter how badly the two of you have wanted to all along.

“Oh, God,” you whispered, your eyes wide as you pulled back slightly. “What did we just do?”

Luke ran a hand through his hair, looking as freaked out as you felt. His cheeks were flushed, though you couldn’t tell if it was from the kiss or the heat. “I don’t know. I—” He looked down, then back at you. “Does this change everything?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your mind racing with all the implications of what just happened. “I…we should head back.”

You swung your leg back over Luke, standing up and quickly walking back towards the boat. You grabbed your hoodie and threw it on despite the heat, feeling like you needed to cover yourself, needing something to hide behind. Luke sat there for a moment longer, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched you retreat. He ran his hands over his face, trying to make sense of what happened, but the feeling of your body pressed against his lingered too heavily. His mind was a mess of excitement and confusion, with lingering sentiments of regret as he couldn’t help but feel that everything was screwed now. Luke stood up quickly, jogging to catch up to you, but the air between you was thick and awkward now.

The boat ride back to the lake house was silent, and the roar of the motor made it easy for neither of them to face the reality of the situation. You sat in the front hold, knees tucked to your chest, staring out at the water as it splashed against the sides of the boat, stray droplets hitting your skin. Luke sat in the driver's seat, gripping the wheel a little too tightly, sneaking glances at you every few seconds.

As the lake house came into view, you stood up quickly, ready to jump out as soon as you were close enough to the dock. Your heart was still racing, no longer from excitement, but from the overwhelming sense of reality that had come crashing down. All the unspoken tension, all the nights you spent wondering if this would ever happen, it had—too fast, too soon. You didn’t know how to face it, how to face Luke.

The second the boat docked, you jumped out onto the wooden pier, barely pausing to steady yourself. You grabbed the rope, helping Luke quickly tie up the boat, before starting up the dock towards the house.

Luke hopped out, following you closely. “Wait, can we talk for a sec?” he called after you, his voice shaky, filled with desperation.

But you were already halfway to the house, your footsteps quickening. “I…I need a minute, Luke,” you replied without turning around, feeling your chest tighten with the weight of everything.

Luke stood there for a moment, watching you disappear inside. His shoulders slumped in defeat as he ran a hand through his hair again, frustrated with himself. He knew that something had changed between you before this but now this was something that was going to be impossible to ignore.

Inside the house, you hurried up the stairs to your room, closing the door softly behind you before sinking onto the edge of the bed. Your heart was still pounding, not from the brisk walk you’d just done to escape Luke, but instead as you replayed the kiss in your head — how natural it had felt, how long you had waited for it, and yet how terrifying it was now that it had happened. You buried your face in your hands, trying to slow the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

As the sun set over the lake, the tension between you and Luke didn’t go unnoticed by the others at dinner. You didn’t sit in your normal spots next to each other, instead sitting at opposite ends of the table, avoiding eye contact, and only speaking when necessary. You kept in conversation with Mark, bringing up just about anything you could think of to avoid interacting with Luke. The energy felt heavy, and no one could ignore how different things seemed between you two.

After dinner, it didn’t take long for the others in the house to confront you and Luke about what had happened that afternoon. Luke found himself outside on the back porch with Quinn and Jack, while you were cornered inside playing pool with Mark and Ethan.

Quinn and Jack watched as their little brother swirled his glass over and over, the sound of the liquid sloshing and the crickets chirping being the only sounds around them. Quinn leaned back in his chair, studying his brother carefully. His bottom lip was bright red from how hard Luke had been chewing on it, his eyes unfocused on the glass in his hand. Luke, uncharacteristically, hadn’t said anything in about 10 minutes. Normally he’d find a way to get his two cents in during every conversation, but his silence was overwhelming

“Alright, what’s going on? You and y/n have been acting weird all evening.” Quinn finally asked, honestly a bit weirded out by his brother’s behaviour.

Jack chimed in, less tactful than Quinn. “Yeah, man, did something happen on the boat? You’ve both been all… tense since you came back.”

Luke snapped his eyes off his cup, and onto his brothers whose eyes were burrowing into him. He hesitated, running a hand through his messy curls, his heart still racing from earlier. He couldn’t seem to get it to slow down. “I, uh… I made a move.” Luke admitted quietly. “I kissed her, I mean… We, uh, kissed.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jack, who smiled and nodded in approval at his brother. “Finally,” he grinned. “So… was it everything you’ve ever hoped for? Did it live up to your fantasies that you’ve been dreaming of since you were fifteen?”

Luke knew Jack was poking fun at him, but as he replayed the kiss in his head, he realized it was. “It was… intense,” Luke said, choosing his words carefully. “We were chatting and then I just kissed her. Her lips… it felt like there was nothing around us when I kissed her. But…”

Luke trailed off, sinking back into his chair as the events that immediately followed replayed in his head.

“But what?” Jack probed.

Luke sighed, feeling the weight of his doubts. “After we pulled apart, I freaked out. All I could think was that I’d just ruined everything between us. I like her a lot… but I didn’t think she felt the same. And… and now I’m worried our friendship is done.”

Quinn let out a little sigh, a small smile tugging on his lips at his little brother. “Look, if it came to that point, that the two of you got close enough to make out, then it means she probably feels the same way,” Quinn said, leaning forward in his chair. “You’re not going to ruin what you two have. I promise that your friendship is strong enough to survive this.”

Jack, more relaxed, shrugged. "Yeah, you clearly like each other. Just talk to her."

Inside, the sound of pool balls clacking loudly filled the air, and no conversation was exchanged between the three of them. Mark and Ethan exchanged silent looks that were traced with unspoken words, urging the other to break the ice and ask you about what had transpired on the boat. Finally, Ethan gave in to Mark’s coaxing stares.

“So uh,” Ethan started, drawing your eyes onto him. “You gonna tell us what the fuck happened on the boat?”

Your fingers stilled on the pool cue, hesitating as you glanced between him and Mark, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Your heart thudded uncomfortably in your chest. Mark and Ethan’s eyes bore into you, expecting answers you didn’t even have for yourself. The tension from earlier had followed you inside, wrapping around your chest like a vice.

You straightened up, brushing a hand through your hair as you tried to collect your thoughts. “I… I kissed him,” you admitted, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you. “Or maybe he kissed me. I don’t know… it just happened.” You let out a sigh, biting your bottom lip.

Mark raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly. “Okay, you kissed, big fucking whoop,” he said, taking a step forward. “Explain to me, then, why are you both acting like someone just died?”

Ethan snorted, leaning his cue against the table. "Yeah, seriously. It’s not like anyone’s surprised. You’ve had this thing between you for… what? Years?"

But to you, it felt like something had. Not a person, but something sacred between you and Luke—something that had been built carefully over years of knowing one another. You had always skirted the edges of something more, but you’d never let yourselves tip over. Until today. And now everything felt fragile like the ground beneath your feet was unstable.

“It’s not that simple. Luke and I… I mean we’ve always been friends. We never crossed that line, even when it felt like we were close. And now… I don’t know. I feel like I messed it all up.”

Ethan scoffed. “Messed it up? You didn’t mess anything up. You guys finally did something that everyone’s been telling you to do for ages. Hell, it’s about time.”

Mark chimed in, his tone a bit more understanding. “Listen, I know it’s scary now that you think your friendship’s changed, but from what I’ve seen, I don’t think anything’s ruined. I think this is something you’ve both wanted for a while. You’ve always liked each other, even if you both pretended not to.”

You looked down, fingers tapping nervously against the side of the pool table. “What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” you whispered, voicing the fear that had been gnawing at you since the moment you left the boat. “I mean, I… I basically jumped on him. What if I made things awkward for him?”

Mark rolled his eyes, walking over to stand beside you. “Trust me, if Luke had a problem with it, he would’ve said something by now. You didn’t force anything. From what it sounds like, he was just as into it as you were.”

Ethan nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Don’t overthink it. He’s probably freaking out just as much as you are. Just talk to him.”

You sighed, knowing deep down that they were right, but the anxiety still clawed at your insides. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” you admitted quietly. “We’ve been close for so long… if this messes things up, I don’t know how I’ll deal with it.”

Ethan couldn’t help but roll his eyes. No matter how many times they reassured you that your friendship wouldn’t be ruined, it was clear that your anxieties were getting the best of you. “You won’t ruin anything. I’ve seen how Luke looks at you. That guy is all in, even if he doesn’t realize it yet.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling on it anxiously. As their words sunk in, you couldn’t help but glance toward the back door, where you knew Luke was with his brothers. The thought of confronting him, of actually talking about what had happened, still terrified you. But deep down, you knew it was the only way to move forward.

Mark and Ethan’s advice echoed in your mind: Talk to him. It was scary, but you couldn’t deny the spark that had ignited between you and Luke. Maybe, just maybe, there was something more waiting for you both on the other side of this conversation.

After the conversation wound down, you couldn't help but feel the lingering tension between you and Luke. Even though Mark and Ethan’s reassurances helped ease some of your worries, the knot of uncertainty in your chest remained. It gnawed at you, the same question echoing over and over in your mind: What if this changes everything?

As the house settled into its quiet evening rhythm and the sounds of conversations faded into the background, your thoughts were still consumed by that kiss — how everything had felt so right in the moment, yet so terrifying in its aftermath. You and Luke had always danced around the possibility of something more, but now that it had finally happened, the reality of it weighed heavy on you.

Later that night, sleep refused to come, your mind running wild with the events of the day. You lay there in the quiet of your room, replaying the kiss over and over again. Every brush of Luke’s lips against yours, every touch of his hands, the way his breath had quickened as he held you close. The intensity of it all made your heart race, but so did the fear that followed.

You glanced at the clock: it was well past midnight, but sleep was the last thing on your mind. Instead, your thoughts turned to the advice Mark and Ethan had given you. Talk to him, they said. But what if talking only made things worse? What if everything fell apart? Yet, despite the fear gnawing at you, one truth remained clear: you couldn’t ignore this. You couldn’t pretend the kiss hadn’t happened or that it hadn’t meant anything. You needed to talk to Luke.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed back the covers and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, your heart pounding as you quietly made your way to the door. The moment you turned the handle and pulled it open, you froze.

Luke stood there, his hand raised as if he was about to knock, his blue eyes wide in surprise. “Oh!” you gasped.

“I was just coming to talk to you,” he said, his voice soft and uncertain. “Can I come in?”

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in. The air between you felt heavy with anticipation, and as Luke entered, the awkward tension that had been present all evening seemed to follow. You both sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a small but noticeable distance between each other. The silence was deafening as you each tried to find the right words to start.

“So…” you started, breaking the tension. “About earlier.”

“Yeah,” Luke muttered, glancing at you before looking down again. “That was… intense.”

You let out a small laugh, though it was more out of nerves than humour. “Yeah. It was.”

Luke rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he was struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry I freaked out. I didn’t mean for it to… you know, get weird.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, it wasn’t just you. I was freaking out too. I mean, we’ve been friends for so long, and I didn’t know if this would… ruin that.”

Luke’s eyes finally met yours, and there was something vulnerable in his gaze. “I thought the same thing. But… I think we’re making this more complicated than it needs to be.”

You fought a smile that was grappling to show, needing to hear Luke say it. “What do you mean?”

Luke swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I want us to be more than friends. I’ve wanted it for a long time, but I didn’t think you felt the same. But after today…” He trailed off, his words hanging in the air.

“I do,” you whispered. “I’ve felt the same way for a while. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Relief washed over Luke’s face, and a small smile tugged at his lips. A matching smile formed on your lips as you thought for a moment. “How do we move forward? Like… as more than friends,” you asked.

“I think we just stay the same,” Luke shrugged. “Except now I can call you my girlfriend, and I can kiss you, and we can have sex.”

You laughed, feeling some of the tension melt away. “Is that all?”

“Yeah,” Luke replied with a grin, leaning closer. “Is that okay with you?”

Your breath hitched as the space between you shrank. “Yeah. It’s more than okay.”

Without another word, Luke leaned in, and this time, when your lips met, there was no hesitation. All the years of restraint, of not crossing the line, melted away as your hands found his curls, tugging them gently. A low groan escaped him as you moved into his lap, feeling the heat between you intensify. His hands slid down your body, resting on your waist before moving lower, gripping you as he pulled you closer. You could feel every inch of him beneath you, the warmth of his skin against yours. The world outside faded away, and all that mattered was the two of you, finally letting go of everything you’d been holding back.

The weight of the uncertainty that had been sitting between you all evening lifted, replaced by a dizzying sense of relief and excitement. Luke's hands gripped your hips firmly, grounding you in the moment. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, fast and erratic, matching the wild rhythm of your own. The connection between you had always been there, simmering beneath the surface, but now it was tangible, electric, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

Luke’s lips moved against yours with a sense of urgency, wanting to taste every bit of you. His hands slid up your sides, fingers brushing your skin under your shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You let out a soft sigh against his lips.

Pulling back slightly, you caught your breath as you both took a moment to come back to reality. Luke’s hands stayed on your waist, his thumbs gently brushing your skin, as if he didn’t want to let go.

“I can’t believe we waited this long,” Luke whispered, his breath warm against your lips.

You laughed softly, reaching up to his curls and gently running a hand through them. “I know, it feels kind of crazy, right?”

He chuckled, a low sound that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. “We’re idiots. Could’ve saved ourselves a lot of trouble.”

You smiled, scanning his eyes. There was something different in them now—no more hesitation, no more uncertainty. Just Luke, as you had always known him, but also something more. “Better late than never, though,” you teased softly.

Luke's hands moved up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing gently across your cheeks. “You know, I meant what I said earlier,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted this for a long time. I just didn’t think you’d ever want me like that.”

You blinked, feeling your heart squeeze at his vulnerability. “Luke, I’ve always wanted you,” you admitted quietly, your voice shaking just slightly. “I just… I was scared.”

His gaze softened, and he leaned forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I get it. I was scared too. But I’m not scared anymore.”

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth flood your chest at his words. “Me either,” you whispered, brushing your fingers through his curls. “I’m not scared anymore.”

The moment cooled down, and you both slipped into a comfortable silence, basking in the newfound closeness. You moved up the bed and under the covers, wrapping yourselves in each other’s arms. The steady rise and fall of Luke’s chest and the soft sound of crickets outside lulled you into a sense of peace. With his hand gently tracing up and down your side, you nodded off, feeling the weight of all the years and uncertainty melt away, leaving only the warmth of the present.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #jack hughes #new jersey devils #umich #taylor swift #red #`✦ˑ ✒️ 𓂃⊹ my works

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dunnerlars · 5 months ago

Text

always attract - matthew tkachuk

pairing: matthew tkachuk x fem!reader summary: matthew mistakenly tells your brother that you're his date to his wedding. word count: 5.7k warnings: none? i don't think a/n: this is my fic for @sc0tters for the #the summer fic exchange 2k24 hosted by the wonderful @wyattjohnston! i haven't written in forever so this was fun to dive into- and it's not beta'd because i'm terrified to ask someone to look it over so all mistakes are my own 😅

—

Matthew 🐀: I know its 5am for you but i think fucked up

Matthew 🐀: Will you be my date to your brothers wedding

The text has you blinking rapidly as you check the time, your phone bright in the dark of the room. Why the fuck is he up right now? Squinting, you see it’s just past 5am and groan, falling back into bed and wondering what the fuck Matthew’s even talking about. It takes a second for you to put everything together, mind failing to keep up with the words date, wedding, and brother.

Me: Sorry what??? What are you talking about

Matthew 🐀: we’re at connor’s bach party and leon asked if i had a date yet and i might’ve told connor you were going to be my date

Me: It’s 5AM

Matthew 🐀: i know we’re heading back to the hotel now but Please b my date

Me: What did connor say?

You huff and roll over, sitting up to turn the light on your nightstand on. Matthew hadn’t responded back yet and you quick to type:

Me: Is he pissed??

Matthew 🐀: its hard to tell w him you know? So what do you say? Date? To the wedding? pleaseeeeeeee

Suddenly a knot forms in your stomach at the thought and despite it not being your fault you feel guilty for Connor thinking you were hiding something from him. Matthew is your friend….He wouldn’t be the worst date. Might as well get something out of it.

Me: What’s in it for me?

Matthew 🐀: literally whatever

Having a favor from Matthew could come in handy at some point, you think. And it could be worth all of this fucking nonsense he’s putting you through at now 5:22am.

Me: Fine, but you owe me a no-barred favor. I can ask for whatever, whenever I want no matter what.

You pause-

Me: How did this even happen?

Matthew 🐀: i’ll explain tomorrow and we can figure out details!!! Thnks babe 😘

Rolling your eyes, you set your phone back down on the nightstand and sigh. It’s almost too much to think about how quickly Connor and Matthew had become close over the last couple of weeks. You’d thought for sure there would be some residual hate from the Panthers Cup win but then Matthew had invited Connor out to his day with the Cup and it was love at first bro hug or whatever excuse they used. And despite the invites going out months ago, Connor had finagled an invite for Matthew and now here you were.

Ever since your move to southern Florida last year, your growing friendship with Matthew had always bugged Connor so it was funny to you now, seeing the tables turned.

The vibration of your phone breaks you from your thoughts and you prepare yourself for another text from Matthew only to be surprised to see it’s a text from your brother.

Connor 👼🏻: So Tkachuk huh?

Deciding it was far too early to deal with this anymore, you turn the phone over and will yourself back to sleep.

—

It’s the next day when Matthew requests to FaceTime you, your phone ringing with a video call as you step outside to your backyard and get settled on a patio chair.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Matthew greets, his grin the most endearingly annoying thing about him.

“You don’t have to use lines on me, Matthew. I’ve already said yes,” you remind him, eyebrows raised as you try your best to glare at him. You take stock of his surroundings and frown. “Are you back in St. Louis already?”

“Yeah, I had a charity thing scheduled with my dad for tonight so I flew back late yesterday.”

“Oh.. Hope you’re not too hungover.”

He shrugs and regroups, sliding his sunglasses up into his curls. “I’m alright. So-,” he starts but you cut him off.

“I need you to explain to me what happened last night before we figure out everything else.” It’s something you’ve tried to piece together and you still haven’t texted Connor back, afraid you might break Matthew’s cover.

“Alright, that’s fair,” he nods, “We were walking back from a bar and Leon asked if I had a date to the wedding, since it was short notice that I was going. And the way he asked- it just really bugged me. Like his tone? I dunno. It just rubbed me wrong. And the guys were making shitty comments. Whatever.”

You know the tone Matthew’s referring to, grateful you’ve never been on the receiving end. Leon was a hard one to crack and it’d taken you at least a year to wear him down. Nodding at him to continue, he shifts his eyes and you can tell he’s embarrassed.

“So obviously I told them I had a date and they stopped and it was fine- until your brother pulled me back from the group and asked who I was bringing, so he could tell Lauren, and I panicked and said you,” he mumbles the next part, your ears straining to pick up the words, “And I might've mentioned we’ve been dating.”

You pause, wondering if Matthew just said what you think he did and yeah- he did. He at least has the nerve to look sheepish, apologetic. “Dating? Are you… What? Matthew!”

“Look, I was on the spot okay! And drunk! And it’s not like it’s out of the question. You’re one of my best friends. My mom loves you, I swear you talk to my sister more than I do. I can go on,” he shoots you a pleading look.

“Well when you put it that way, sure. I guess.”

“You guess? You know I’m right.”

Sighing, you nod. “Fine. Whatever. Did you give him any details? I can’t imagine Connor didn’t have a million questions, I tell him everything.”

“What do you mean everything?”

“Matthew, that’s not the point. Did he question you at all?”

“No. Just patted me on the shoulder and we caught up with everyone else.”

“Huh.”

That’s…. Weird. And out of character for your brother, who’s nosy as fuck when it comes to your personal life. Maybe he already thinks it’s all a lie. Or is just actually super pissed, which isn’t any better. Would this even be worth it? How often would a favor from Mattew come in handy? Okay, actually pretty handy. He’s got money, connections. Could be good to have for things you don’t wanna ask Connor for… Ugh.

Glancing up, you catch Matthew waiting for you to say something and his curls catch the back light of the St. Louis sun from behind him, casting an almost halo glow around his head. His eyes are bright, sunglasses still tucked up on the top of his head. Two front teeth catching his bottom lip and biting and God, he’s pretty.

Maybe this wasn’t the worst idea. What could go wrong?

“Alright, let’s figure this out…”

—

It’s hours later when you finally work up the nerve to call Connor, lying in bed after a long day. Since he hadn’t questioned Matthew for details, it was easy enough to make up a backstory for you and Matthew: it’s only been a couple of months, things aren’t serious but they’re fun and easy and you both like each other enough that it’s exclusive. Which was all real except that when you hung out, it just wasn’t a date. Because you weren’t dating. Nope.

The call finally connects, sure you were almost going to get his voicemail, and Connor greets you with, “Thanks for letting me know you’re alive.”

It’s easy to tell by the tone of his voice, short, quick and void of any emotion, that he’s disappointed because it’s the voice you know he uses when he loses a game he felt they should’ve won.

“You’re mad.”

“And why am I mad?”

“Because-”

“Because I found out you’ve been secretly dating Tkachuk behind my back, from him? Why did I have to find out from him and not you, my own sister? Was this going on throughout our entire Cup series? Or has it been longer?”

Fuck.

“Matthew lying to me is- It’s whatever. You’re my sister. Why didn’t you tell me? What about telling me made you straight up lie when I’ve asked you about your trips up to wherever the fuck the Panthers play? Or when he’s down there with you?”

Fort Lauderdale your mind supplies but you know it won’t do any good to say so.

“You always made it seem like it was just buddies when you told me you were meeting with him for lunch or whatever, someone that reminded you of home, but I guess that’s what made it so easy, huh?” The heat in Connor’s voice has petered out, like he’s figuring it all out and he sighs. “Fuck. I’m sorry. This is probably why you didn’t want to say anything to me.”

“It really was just friends, Con. I promise,” you tell him. “Then… I dunno. Things just got more real. I didn’t want to see anyone else and he didn’t either. It’s only been a couple of months, I swear.”

“So, through the series, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Connor lets out a long breath, like he’s deciding his next words carefully. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me. I get it. It wasn’t the best reaction.”

“No shit,” you laugh.

“But you’re coming to the wedding together?” You hear someone shout in the background and grin when you recognize Lauren’s voice. “Lauren wants to know if she should switch your escort down the aisle to Chucky.”

“I mean,” you pause, thinking. It would be nice to know who was walking down with you, one of Lauren’s second cousins or something was supposed to be your escort but having Matthew on your arm would be nice. “Yeah, sure. As long as it doesn’t fuck anything up on her end.”

Connor grunts, “As if Lauren would let anything fuck that day up. It’s fine. Let Chucky know for us, yeah? She’s making the calls already.”

“Alright. Thanks, Con. And tell Lauren thank you too.”

“Will do. Love ya, kiddo. Sorry I freaked out.”

You roll your eyes. Brothers.

“Love you too. I’ll text you once I talk to him.”

Lauren and Connor both shouted their goodbyes as you hung up.

Me: So you’re gonna be my escort down the aisle next week in the wedding 🙂

Matthew 🐀: Fuck you

Me: You wish

Matthew 🐀: well yeah

Of course he didn’t mean it like that- Matthew always down for a joke, and you calm your racing heart, gulping down some water.

So now you not only have a fake boyfriend but also said (fake) boyfriend was going to walk you down the aisle at your brother’s wedding. In a week. Great.

—

You fly into St. Louis. The plan was to meet up with Matthew on the Saturday before the wedding and then you’d fly up to Toronto and drive up to Muskoka together on Wednesday. Trying to keep up appearances, Matthew had said. Thankfully the flight from Miami to Missouri wasn’t too terrible, even if the lady that was sat next to you had a perfume on that made you nauseous.

Matthew had texted you that he was idling on the curb, waiting, and once you had your bags, you headed outside into the muggy heat. The loud honk of a horn coming from a giant black SUV startles you and Matthew rolls down the window with a laugh, “Come on, they’re gonna make me move again.”

It was tempting to make him squirm but you caught the eye of one of the traffic guards and scurry forward, dumping your bags into the backseat before jumping into the passenger’s side.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he grins, turning on his blinker before merging onto the road. “Seatbelt please.”

The quietness of the truck surprises you as you buckle your seatbelt, having expected some kind of rap music or sports podcast to be playing through the speakers. Or at least that’s what he normally was listening to when you’d meet up in Miami, and he’d pick you up at your apartment. The silence was comfortable though, the quiet hum of the AC and the tapping of Matthew’s fingers against the steering wheel filling the cab. His posture was relaxed, slouched in the driver’s seat.

Matthew swats lightly at your thigh, pulling your attention away from the window, “You should let Connor know you’re here.”

Digging through your bag, you search for your phone and fire off a quick text to the group chat with your brother and parents that you’d made it safely to St. Louis and were with Matthew, heading back to his house.

“So, how was the flight?”

Well it was fine in the sense that nothing went wrong and there weren’t any screaming babies and you managed to fall asleep since you’d been up at the ass crack of dawn to make sure you got to the airport in time but- Well. Your dreams had been filled with flashes of Matthew’s smile and his laugh and how he always managed to make you feel better after a bad day at work and he’d called just to say he was bored and was wondering what you were doing and, and and-.

Where was this even coming from?

You obviously couldn’t say all of that so you shrug, “It was okay. The lady next to me must’ve bathed in perfume because I almost gagged but I pulled a mask on and managed to fall asleep against the window.”

Matthew whistles in sympathy, “God that’s always the worst.”

Nodding, you chew on your bottom lip and turn to face him in your seat and get a good look at him. “You look nice.”

And he did. There was something different about him and you weren’t sure if it was the glowing tan that covered his neck and arms, the blonde that was starting to weave its way into the curls that sat neatly on his head, or just the ease at which he was holding himself but he looked different. Maybe part of it was the fact that the last time you’d seen Matthew in person was right after the Panthers victory and he’d been dog tired and worn out, bushy beard and clothes hanging off his frame. This Matthew was refreshed and had a Stanley Cup under his belt, carefree and like nothing could bring him down.

Matthew glances at you quickly, a sly smile overtaking his face. “Yeah? Well, gotta look good for my girlfriend ya know? Figured I’d shower, at the very least.”

Wait.

“Your parents don’t think we’re dating, right?”

Matthew’s quick to shake his head with a honking laugh, “Nah, I explained to them what happened. My mom’s excited to see you again though. And Taryn.”

“Not your dad?”

Pulling off the highway, he chuckles and shrugs. “Big Walt’s not home. He’s on some golf trip for the week.”

It’s hard not to let your relief show. Keith wasn’t your favorite person and taking him out of the equation of this short trip was a small victory you were willing to celebrate. To yourself.

“Cool cool cool.”

“It’s okay that you don’t like him,” Matthew assures you as he pulls up to what you can only assume is his parents home. It wasn’t familiar to you in the way Matthew’s St. Louis home was becoming from all of the play-by-play videos he’s sent during his off time, describing the day he’s had while grabbing his mail, or going for a walk around the neighborhood while telling you about the latest update on Brady’s incoming baby or what he was going to have for dinner.

“I don’t like how he treats you,” you remind him, voice quiet.

It was no secret to Matthew how you felt about his father. You couldn’t even begin to count how many times you’d heard Keith put him down through solo interviews or in passing comments from Matthew or even Tayrn, when she’d call to tell you about another argument the two of them had that she’d overheard.

Matthew nods, grimacing. “Well, we don’t have to deal with him while we’re here. Come on, let’s head in before my mom wonders why we’re sitting out here instead.”

The rest of the day was uneventful. You and Taryn hang out in the backyard with White Claws while she tells you horror stories from her last semester at college and Matthew flits in and out, helping his mom with dinner while also trying to get the juicy gossip. It was comfortable, even if the St. Louis air was sticky with humidity and dinner went by quickly and soon enough, you were back in Matthew’s car heading to his place.

“Well this is nice. Not as nice as the one in Florida but- nice,” you whistle, taking in the coziness of Matthew’s home. There was an overstuffed couch in the center of the living room, a coffee table littered with sports magazines, and further back you could see the kitchen with deep brown cabinets and hardwood floors to match. “Very cozy.”

“Yeah, my mom took care of most of it during the season. I just sent a bunch of pictures of things for her to copy,” Matthew shrugs, nodding up the stairs. “Uh, guest rooms are up there. You tired?”

“Really fucking tired.”

“Come on then, up we go.”

Matthew led the way up the stairs, carrying your suitcase. The temptation to smack his ass was a hard one to quell but you just barely managed when you hit the landing.

“So,” he points to the left. “That room I use as an office but it’s got an en suite. Bed’s kinda small though.” Pointing to the right, he glances at you before speaking. “That one’s closest to my room. Bigger bed. No bathroom though.”

“Well obviously I’m taking the bigger bed.” You nudge his arm with yours, taking the suitcase and heading towards the room. “So, plans for tomorrow: Taryn said something about getting lunch? I don’t know if you’re invited. Also you’ve gotta take me to that bakery here you’ve been talking about for months so I can judge the almond croissant you’ve deemed better than the ones from True Loaf. Which are the best. Obviously.”

As you dig through your suitcase in search of pajamas, you glance up to see Matthew leaning against the doorway with a weird smile on his face as he looks at you. “You good?”

“Yeah, just-,” he pauses, crossing his arms over his chest. “Glad to have you here. It’s been a while.”

“Happy to be here. Boyfriend.” You shoot him a wide grin, hoping it covers up the clear nervousness you’re feeling now that you’re settling in. Sleeping in his house.

Matthew snorts, shaking his head. “See you in the morning.”

—

The rest of your time in St. Louis was kind of great, all things considered. Matthew was an attentive host and Taryn and Chantal were eager to fill your time- from gossiping about the league, to things you needed to check out the next time you were in town. And Chantal had made you promise that you would- come back, that is, on your last night in St. Louis with the four of you crowded around the table in the backyard of Matthew’s house, sharing a bottle of wine and embarrassing stories.

You’d had to double, and triple check, with Matthew to make sure his mom or sister didn’t think the two of you were actually dating, especially when promises were being made to come back.

He’d just shrugged and said, “They just like you. I like you. Jeez, do people not tell you they like you?”

You were kind of bummed to be leaving as you packed your bag the morning of the flight up to Toronto, Matthew’s obnoxious singing ringing loudly throughout the house. After combing through the room a third time, you deemed it free and clear of your belongings and headed down the stairs, rolling your suitcase next to Matthew’s and chuckled at the sight before you as you turned towards the kitchen.

Singing horribly out of tune with Dancing Queen blasting on his phone’s speaker, was Matthew dancing like an idiot around the island in the center of his kitchen, eyes closed and belting the lyrics.

“Matthew.”

The live concert comes to an end, Matthew scrambling to pause the music. “Sorry,” he replies, ears tinged red in embarrassment.

“Hey no complaints from me, but Taryn’s gonna be here in a minute,” you remind him, the fond smile on your face giving away far too much.

Matthew pockets his phone, nodding. He holds your gaze for a second before asking, “Come here?”

As soon as you’re a couple of steps away, Matthew pulls you into his chest and you go with a surprised oof.

“Thank you. For doing this.”

You turn your head into his chest, ear pressed against where his heart was and find comfort in the timed beating while you nod. “You’re welcome,” you mumble, turning your chin up and glancing at him.

Your gazes lock, his blue eyes searching yours. For what, you’re unsure but he seems to find the answers he’s looking for a short minute later, because he gives you another squeeze and steps back, letting out a breath.

“I’ll grab the bags if you can shut the lights off?”

You’re already on it as Matthew walks away, flipping the switch in the kitchen and checking the backdoor to make sure it’s locked. The living room lights are next, and you meet him at the front door, catching Taryn’s car parked on the curb waiting.

The drive to the airport is short, the early morning hours more forgiving with traffic and after giving Taryn a quick hug and a promise to text her when you both landed, you stepped away to give her and Matthew some privacy while dropping your bags at the kiosk outside.

“Ready?” He asks, as you both wave goodbye to Taryn as she pulls away from the curb.

“Let’s do this.”

The flight is smooth for how short it is, 2 hours passing by quickly. Arriving in Toronto is a nightmare, as usual, and Matthew spends over 30 minutes at the rental car desk trying to figure out where your reservation went. Eventually it gets sorted out and you’re on the road, tucked into the passenger seat of a sports car that you didn’t ask for.

“If I fall asleep, don’t get mad at me please,” you yawn, pulling your feet up under you to get comfortable and leaning on the center console.

“Want me to turn the radio down?” Matthew doesn’t wait for your answer, his hand going for the volume knob but you stop him, your fingers wrapping around his wrist.

“No, it’s good. I know it helps keep you awake.” Pulling your hand away from his slowly you tuck it underneath your head and nudge your forehead against his arm. “Thank you for driving, by the way.”

“Happy to, honestly. Driving helps me clear my head,” he tells you, glancing down and shooting you a grin.

You’re tempted to ask what’s going on with him- he’s been acting a little out of character since this morning but sense that he’s not ready to talk about it, so you just hum in acknowledgement and turn into your arms, willing for sleep to find you.

Thankfully you manage to fall asleep on the ride up, a small 2 hour nap doing the trick because you wake up feeling rested.

The cottages were set on the lake in Muskoka where everyone would be staying for the wedding and you and Matthew were set to share one with your parents with Connor and Lauren next door in the one they own and spend his off season in.

Your mom and dad are sat on the front porch in a set of rocking chairs as Matthew pulls up and you’re quick to jump out of the car once it stops, calling out to them as they wave to you in greeting while he grabs the bags out of the trunk, “Long time, no see!”

Once hellos and introductions are done, with your dad and Matthew bonding what feels like instantly and your mom hugs you so hard you almost can’t breathe, the four of you make the small trek over to Connor and Lauren’s for dinner after dropping your bags off.

Dinner is comfortable, Matthew sat on your right with his arm draped across the back of your chair the whole time. Connor doesn’t give you two any weird looks and you count it as a win as you settle down for the night, avoiding talking about the fact that there’s only one bed in the room while you both brush your teeth.

“I forget how involved these things are,” Matthew says, leaning against the counter watching while you finish washing your face.

“Weddings? Yeah, I mean. I think this is a little different, though,” you laugh, pat drying your face. “Lauren’s dialed everything up to a thousand for it.”

Matthew nods, thinking about it. “I’ve noticed,” he finally answers with, nudging you out of the bathroom.

“And there was one bed,” you dramatically announce, sweeping your arms around the room and Matthew honest to god giggles which causes you to start giggling, both of you falling into a heap on the bed, trying to catch your breath.

Clearing his throat, Matthew grunts, “We’re adults, we can share a bed. Right?” His head turns towards yours and you swallow, realizing how close the two of you are.

If you scooted an inch closer, you’d be able to tilt your head up and press your lips to his and- No.

“Right,” you finally manage to mumble out.

The air is stilted while you both turn down the bed, shuffling under the covers once the light is out and you make sure to stay tucked to your side of the bed, legs curled under you and knees almost hanging off the bed.

This was going to be a long weekend.

—

From morning yoga to late night barbecues, swimming and then rehearsals, you were exhausted. Not to mention keeping up appearances with Matthew: hand holding, arms wrapped around waists, and too many forehead kisses to count were wearing on you. It was starting to feel real and thinking about what was to come when the weekend was over and you’d go your separate ways was overwhelming.

If you were being completely honest with yourself, which was hard enough, was that the last week or so with Matthew had been nothing short of amazing. You didn’t date, really ever. It was hard enough being Connor McDavid’s sister and trying to figure out if someone actually wanted to be with you vs. wanting to know your brother and the perks it comes with but, with Matthew that didn’t exist. You didn’t have to question why he wanted to be around, and while yes, you know each other because of Connor, you were friends in your own right.

The morning of the wedding came quickly, finally managing to get a solid amount of sleep and it was easy to figure out why when you accounted for the fact Matthew’s chest was beneath your cheek when you woke up. So far you’d both managed to keep separate throughout the night, at least as far as you could tell since he was up before you most mornings so this was surprising.

Matthew shifts beneath you and you peer up as he blinks his eyes open, gaze catching yours. “Sorry,” you mumble, about to roll away when he catches you by the waist to hold you tight to him.

He groans deep in his chest as he stretches out and settles back against the pillows, content with a smile. “Mmm, don’t apologize. This is nice,” he tells you, thumb rubbing against the bare skin of your arm.

You hum in agreement before catching the time on the alarm clock opposite of you and sigh. “It is, but I’ve gotta get up. Bridesmaids duties call and if I’m late, Lauren will murder me and I’ve been having a nice time so I’d like to not ruin that.”

“I have too,” Matthew agrees, “I was nervous at first but it’s been kind of- fun? And having you around hasn’t been too terrible either.”

You pinch him in the side at that and he squawks, shuffling away. “Alright, alright. Damn,” he laughs, jumping out of bed. “I ruined the mood, I get it.”

A knock sounds on the door, your mother’s voice ringing out on the other side. “Sweetie, Lauren just called to make sure you’re awake. We’ve gotta head over soon.”

“I’ll be down in five,” you call back, throwing the covers off and shooting Matthew a glare.

His hands come up in surrender and you laugh, closing the bathroom door behind you.

You don’t have to do much before leaving, since the ladies are getting ready over at Connor and Lauren’s cottage and the guys are coming here. Washing up and grabbing your bag, you blow a sarcastic kiss to Matthew on your way out and he rolls his eyes and catches it before you leave and your mother just laughs, teasing you for how cute the both of you are.

The wedding is beautiful, as expected. The guest list is full of people who you’ve known most of your life, who have supported Connor throughout his career, and you’re immensely proud of the person he’s become.

You stand at the altar among Lauren’s best friends and watch your brother get married, near tears, seeing how happy he is. How happy they both are- you’re gaining a sister in her and it’s all kinds of crazy magical, how everything’s come together and that includes having Matthew as your date because he’s been kind of the best.

Once dinner is done, the cake is cut and the happy couple has come through and been announced and their first dance out of the way, the dance floor opens up and everyone lets loose. The DJ is fun and plays throwback after throwback and Matthew keeps close to you, offering to refill your drink or ask if you need a break when slow songs come on. Eventually you do, toeing off your shoes and hiding them under your chair before slumping into the table.

“I am pooped,” you whine, blowing your hair out of your face and groaning into your arms.

“It’s a little early to be tapping out, babe,” Matthew chuckles, finishing off his beer.

“God, I know. Lauren will kill me if I leave early,” you glance around the dance floor for her and see Celeste behind her, arms wrapped around each other's necks and you smile. “Are you having fun? I’m not keeping you from anything? I know the guys are around here somewhere.”

Matthew’s quick to shake his head, nudging his knee with yours. “Nope, nowhere else I wanna be.” He licks his lips and you track the movement, mesmerized. “And yeah, lots of fun. You’re not too bad of a date.”

You snort, “Thanks. Really appreciate that.”

A few songs later and a discussion of the rest of your summer plans gone, you both join the dance floor again when a slow song hits. Matthew’s hands slide low on your waist and your hands clasp behind his neck, swaying to the beat. The music is soft and you can hear the nighttime noises from the woods behind you, the lapping of the lake against the dock that’s not too far away. It’s calming and Matthew pulls you a little closer, your head just close enough to rest against his chest.

“Have you thought about the favor you want when this is all done?” He wonders, keeping his voice low so only you can hear.

Honestly you’d forgotten all about the deal you’d made- it wasn’t exactly a hardship to play fake girlfriend to Matthew because it wasn’t all that different to how you normally interacted with him. But now that you’re thinking about it, maybe there was something you wanted. More time.

You tell him honestly, “Yeah. Later though,” and tuck your face back into his chest and will for the moment to never end.

—

It does come to an end. The wedding dies down a couple of hours later, Connor and Lauren waving everyone off and thanking the guests for coming. You and Matthew are both sober enough to make the small trek back to the cottage next door and he holds your hand the entire way back, using the excuse of not wanting to lose you in the dark. It’s tempting to call him on it but you don’t want him to let go either.

Your parents are already settled in bed when you both tiptoe up the stairs and you sigh in relief when you’re finally back in the bedroom, closing the door and immediately chucking your heels across the room.

Settling in for the last night, you turn over and feel brave, scooting closer to Matthew in the dark.

“I don’t think I wanna fly back to Miami tomorrow,” you whisper, heart hammering. “I’ve still got the next week off and I was going to use it to catch up on some things around my apartment but I just. Don’t want to. You’re going back to St. Louis right?”

Matthew turns on his side to face you and you feel warmth spreading through your chest at the way he’s taking you in- like you’re something special, something to be taken care of.

“Yeah, I was planning on it,” he tells you. “What are you thinking?”

“That I’m ready to cash in my favor.”

“Alright, hit me. What’ve you got?”

The look Matthew’s giving you is encouraging and you suddenly feel brave and steadily say, “Go somewhere with me.”

Matthew reaches across the short distance and his hand catches yours, twining your fingers together and asks, “Where are we going?”

#my writing #the summer fic exchange 2k24 #matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fanfic #matthew tkachuk fic #nhl #nhl fic #hockey fic #nhl imagine

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elryuse · 5 months ago

Text

The Story Of, How A Cafe Worker Wins The Heart Of A Superstar

Wonyoung X Male Reader

Tags : Idol Wonyoung, Cafe Worker Male Reader, Fell in love at first sight, Kiss, Strangers to Lover, Fluff, Full of emotion

The cafe bell chimed a familiar melody as the door swung open, announcing the arrival of a new customer. Busy with wiping down a table, I momentarily glanced up, my breath catching in my throat. A girl, shrouded in a white bucket hat and a mask, stood awkwardly by the entrance.

"Hi there! Welcome to Sunray Cafe," I greeted warmly, my usual chipper self shining through. "What can I get you today?"

The girl, her eyes sparkling even beneath the mask, approached the counter. "Can I get a large Americano, please? With no sugar, and maybe less ice?" Her voice was soft, melodic, like a gentle stream tinkling over smooth pebbles.

"Absolutely! Coming right up!" I punched in her order on the register, a thrill shooting through me. Today was definitely turning out interesting. As I busied myself brewing her coffee, I stole another glance at her. There was a certain aura about her, an ethereal quality that made her stand out even amongst the usual cafe crowd.

"Here you go," I announced, placing the steaming cup on the counter. "One large Americano, no sugar, less ice. Just the way you like it, I presume?"

A hint of a smile played on her lips, barely visible beneath the mask. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

The silence stretched for a moment, filled with an unspoken awkwardness. I yearned to strike up a conversation, to get to know the girl behind the mask, but something held me back. Perhaps it was the air of mystery surrounding her, or maybe just a touch of shyness on my part.

She settled down at a corner table, the clinking of her spoon against the ceramic mug the only sound for a while. I watched her from afar, mesmerized by the way her gloved fingers cradled the cup, how her eyes sparkled with an unseen emotion as she sipped her coffee.

As the cafe slowly filled with the afternoon crowd, I found myself drawn to her table again and again. Each time, our eyes would meet for a brief moment, a silent exchange that sent a flutter to my heart. Who was this girl? What was her story? I couldn't help but wonder.

Days turned into weeks, and the cafe slowly became synonymous with Wonyoung's presence. Every afternoon, like clockwork, she'd walk in, a vision in white with her signature Americano order. Each time, a wave of exhilaration would wash over me. We'd fallen into a comfortable routine – our exchanges started with greetings, then brief conversations about the weather or the latest K-Pop releases.

One sunny afternoon, as I placed her usual cup on the counter, I mustered up the courage to ask, "The Americano with no sugar, less ice – is that your favorite, or just a habit?"

A soft laugh, like wind chimes on a summer breeze, escaped her lips. "A bit of both, I guess. But honestly, it's more about the company now." Her words sent a jolt of joy through me. Was she implying...?

"Really? You like coming here just for the company?" I couldn't help the hopeful lilt in my voice.

She met my gaze, her eyes sparkling with an emotion I couldn't decipher. "The coffee's not bad either," she admitted with a playful smile. "But yes, the company is definitely a perk."

Emboldened by her words, I took a chance. "Actually, my name is Y/n," I blurted out, feeling a bit flustered. "W-what about you? I keep seeing the name 'Won' written on your cup."

A hint of surprise flickered in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a soft smile. "Won is fine," she replied, her voice barely a whisper.

As she turned to leave, I blurted out, "Wait!" She paused, her back to me. "Can I, uh... walk you home?" My cheeks burned with a blush, but I held her gaze.

To my surprise, she didn't refuse. Instead, she turned around, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Sure," she said simply. "That sounds nice."

As we walked side by side, the setting sun casting an orange glow on our path, I felt a lightness in my step, a joy that resonated deep within me. We talked about everything and nothing – our dreams, our favorite foods, the stray cat that frequented the back alley of the cafe. It felt effortless, comfortable, like we'd known each other for years.

When we reached her doorstep, the air crackled with a nervous energy. "Today was nice, Y/n," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Would you like to do it again sometime?" I asked, hope flickering in my chest.

A genuine smile bloomed on her face, as radiant as the sun that had just dipped below the horizon. "I'd like that," she replied, taking out her phone. "Here, put your number in."

As I entered my contact information, her phone vibrated. Glancing at the screen, I noticed she saved my number under the name "Sunray Cafe." A pang of disappointment shot through me, a silent acknowledgement of the distance between our worlds.

But then, she added a single emoji – a bright yellow sun – beside my name. The small gesture sent a warmth blooming in my chest, a promise of sunshine and happiness to come. "I'll call you, Won," I said, my voice filled with newfound determination. "And I'll make you happy, I promise."

She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "We'll see about that, Sunray Cafe." With a final wave, she disappeared into her apartment building, leaving me with a heart full of hope and the promise of a future filled with sunshine, coffee, and maybe, just maybe, a love story blooming amidst the aromatic warmth of the cafe.

The following afternoon, butterflies danced a frenetic jig in my stomach as Won walked into the cafe. Today, I had a surprise planned. Mustering up all my courage, I approached her as she placed her usual order.

"Hey, Won," I greeted, my voice a touch shaky. "So, I was wondering..." I hesitated, searching for the right words. "Would you like to go out on a date with me sometime?"

Her eyes widened beneath the mask, a flicker of surprise giving way to a hesitant smile. "A date?" she echoed, her voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah," I blurted out, my cheeks burning. "Just to, you know, hang out outside of the cafe."

To my utter delight, she didn't say no. In fact, a hint of a blush seemed to color her cheeks, hidden beneath the white mask. "I'd... I'd like that," she replied softly.

We set a date for the weekend, and the anticipation gnawed at me for days. Finally, the day arrived, and I found myself waiting for her at a park, a bouquet of sunflowers – her favorite – clutched nervously in my hand.

When she arrived, my breath hitched. Even in casual clothes and the ever-present mask, she looked radiant. Today, however, there was a certain spring in her step, a shy smile playing on her lips.

"Hey," I said, extending the flowers towards her.

Her smile widened as she accepted the bouquet. "Thank you, Y/n. These are beautiful."

The afternoon unfolded like a dream. We strolled through the park, the scent of summer flowers filling the air. We talked about everything and nothing – our dreams, our favorite movies, the stray cat that frequented the back alley of the cafe. Her laughter, a melody tinkling in the summer breeze, sent shivers down my spine. There was a comfortable ease about our conversation, a sense of connection that transcended the barrier of the mask.

Later, we decided to catch a movie. As we sat shoulder-to-shoulder in the dimly lit cinema, a thrill coursed through me. Stealing a glance at her, I noticed her eyes glued to the screen, tears glistening in them during a particularly emotional scene. In that moment, I felt a surge of protectiveness towards her, a desire to shield her from any harm.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the city, I suggested a final stop – Sunray Cafe. The familiarity of the place brought a smile to both our faces.

"Welcome back," I said, ushering her in.

The cafe was bustling with customers, but a corner table by the window was miraculously free. I settled Won into the seat, her eyes sparkling as she took in the familiar surroundings.

"This place feels different somehow," she remarked, tilting her head.

"Because you're here with me," I replied impulsively, my cheeks burning with a blush.

She met my gaze for a long moment, a blush creeping up her neck despite the mask. Then, she smiled, a shy, sweet smile that sent my heart into overdrive.

"I'm glad I am," she whispered.

I ordered her usual Americano, this time with a hint of caramel syrup, hoping to surprise her. As I placed the cup on the table, I blurted out, "There's something I've been wanting to ask you."

She looked up, her eyes curious. "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, I said, "Won, would you ever consider taking off your mask?"

A flicker of vulnerability crossed her features, a silent plea in her eyes. Then, she shook her head gently. "Not yet, Y/n. Maybe someday."

Disappointment tugged at my heart, but seeing the unspoken emotions in her eyes, I understood. This wasn't the right time to push her.

Taking her hand in mine, I squeezed it gently. "Okay," I said softly. "Whenever you're ready."

A warm smile bloomed on her face, chasing away the shadows in her eyes. "Thank you, Y/n. For understanding."

We spent the rest of the evening talking, sipping our coffee, and simply enjoying each other's company. As we walked out of the cafe hand-in-hand, the night sky ablaze with stars, I knew this was just the beginning of something special. The mask might have hidden her face, but it couldn't hide the connection we shared, a connection forged over cups of coffee, shared dreams, and stolen glances under the summer sun.

The next day, A sudden jolt of electricity shot through me as the cafe door chimed, announcing a new arrival. But it wasn't just any customer. It was Won, but this time, there was another man by her side.

He was tall and impeccably dressed, but his aura was cold, his expression unreadable. He held himself stiffly, a stark contrast to Won's usual radiant presence. Even with the mask on, I could sense the tension radiating from her, a silent plea for help I couldn't quite understand.

The man approached the counter, his voice devoid of warmth. "Black coffee, hot. No sugar, and a side of rock sugar."

The odd combination sent a shiver down my spine, but I nodded curtly, professionalism overriding my growing unease. As I brewed the coffee, I stole a glance at Won. Her eyes darted around the cafe nervously, avoiding mine altogether.

When I placed the order on the counter, the man picked up the cup and took a long sip. His face contorted in disgust. He then reached for the rock sugar, a single, unrefined cube, and popped it into his mouth before taking another sip of the coffee. He grimaced again, then let out a heavy sigh.

"Looks like the merger will have to be expedited," he said to Won, his voice laced with a coldness that sent chills down my spine. "Your father called. He needs a faster turnaround on the debt settlement."

Won's mask seemed to shrink around her face, her shoulders slumping in defeat. But amidst the fear in her eyes, there was a flicker of defiance. "Marriage?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The man nodded curtly. "That's what your father wants. Apparently, a public display of unity will appease the investors."

A suffocating silence descended upon us. The man seemed oblivious to the turmoil brewing within Won, his gaze fixed on his now lukewarm coffee. But I knew something was terribly wrong. This marriage, this entire situation, felt forced, a business deal masquerading as love.

The man finally set down his cup, his gaze snapping towards Won. "Who is he?" he demanded, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "The one you truly care about."

The air crackled with tension, the question hanging heavy in the air. My heart pounded in my chest, a drumbeat against my ribs. Won's eyes met mine for a fleeting moment, a silent plea for understanding, for help. And in that shared look, everything hung in the balance.

Unable to bear the suffocating tension any longer, I took a deep breath and approached their table, my voice firm but calm. "Excuse me," I said, forcing a smile, "but could you please keep it down? There are other customers here trying to enjoy their coffee."

The cold man's icy gaze snapped towards me, his expression hardening further. He took a slow, deliberate sip of his coffee, the clink of the cup against the saucer the only sound for a moment.

"A lowlife like you wouldn't understand professionalism," he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "Perhaps you haven't noticed, but I could easily buy this entire cafe and kick you out on the street."

A surge of anger flared within me, but I fought it down. This wasn't about me. It was about Won, about the fear and helplessness etched on her face.

"Professionalism isn't about money," I countered, my voice steady despite the tremor in my heart. "It's about respect. Respect for your partner, respect for others around you."

The man scoffed, a humorless sound. "Partners? Don't make me laugh. This is a business arrangement, nothing more." His gaze flickered to Won, his voice softening a touch. "Isn't that right, darling?"

Won remained silent, her eyes downcast. My heart ached for her, for the unspoken words trapped behind the mask.

The man seemed to take her silence as agreement. He flashed a cold smile in my direction, his parting words laced with a veiled threat. "Consider yourself warned, kid. Don't get in the way of things you don't understand. I won't let her be taken that easily." With that, he rose from his seat, leaving Won and me alone in a tense silence.

As the cafe door chimed shut behind him, the weight of his words settled heavily upon us. Won's shoulders slumped further, and for a moment, I thought she might crumble. But then, she lifted her head, a flicker of determination replacing the fear in her eyes.

"Y/n," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "We need to talk."

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden surge of hope that bloomed in my chest. This wasn't just fear in her eyes anymore – it was a spark, a defiance against the future that had been thrust upon her.

Before I could respond, she surprised me by reaching out. Her gloved hand cupped my cheek, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through me. My breath hitched as she leaned in closer, the mask a barrier between us yet somehow insignificant in the face of the raw emotion in her eyes.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper against my lips. "For everything."

Then, in a move that stole my breath away, she leaned forward and kissed me. It wasn't the soft, sweet kiss I'd dreamt of. It was a fleeting touch, a soft brush of cotton from her white mask against mine, yet it held a universe of unspoken emotions. The taste of coffee and something uniquely hers lingered on the fabric as she pulled away, a blush creeping up her cheeks despite the mask.

"I... I need to go," she stammered, her voice flustered. "But this isn't over. Not by a long shot."

With that, she turned and hurried out of the cafe, leaving me standing there in a daze. My hand flew to my lips, the warmth of her touch still tingling on my skin. The kiss was a promise, a declaration whispered against the storm brewing in her life.

Hope, a fragile thing, blossomed in my chest. Won might be trapped, but she wasn't defeated. And neither was I. We had each other, a connection forged over stolen glances and shared dreams. Together, we would find a way. The road ahead might be difficult, but with the faint memory of her touch and the soft brush of cotton from her mask against my lips, I knew I wouldn't face it alone.

A year had crawled by, each day a monotonous echo of the last. The cafe, once a haven for stolen glances and whispered dreams, now felt hollow without Won's presence. I wiped down the counter with a practiced efficiency, a ghost of a smile clinging to my lips. The memory of our date – the sunflowers, the movie, the shared coffee – played on repeat in my mind, a bittersweet reminder of a happiness that felt like a lifetime ago.

Just as I was about to flick off the neon "Open" sign, a soft rapping sound startled me. A figure stood hesitantly on the other side of the glass door, the setting sun casting a golden glow around them. My heart lurched in my chest – could it be…?

With trembling hands, I unlocked the door. A wave of relief washed over me as I saw Won, her ever-present white mask the only thing obscuring her face. But this time, there was a different glint in her eyes, a mix of determination and something else – nervousness?

Before I could even formulate a greeting, she was in my arms, clinging to me like a lifeline. "Y/n," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry."

Tears welled up in my eyes, spilling over as I held her close. "Won," I croaked, my voice hoarse. "I thought… I thought I lost you."

She pulled back slightly, cupping my face in her gloved hands. Her eyes, filled with a newfound fire, held my gaze. "Never," she whispered fiercely. "That awful man… It turned out he was a corrupt business owner. My dad cut ties with him, but it caused a huge fight with my parents. In the end, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to choose my own path."

A smile, hesitant but genuine, bloomed on her face as she slowly began to untie the straps of her mask. My breath hitched in my throat. For all this time, the girl who filled my days with sunshine had been Jang Wonyoung, the K-Pop idol I adored.

As the mask fell away, revealing the breathtaking beauty I'd only glimpsed in dreams, a blush flooded my cheeks. Her eyes, sparkling with mischief, met mine. "Now you know why I always hid behind the mask, huh?"

A nervous laugh escaped my lips. "If anyone saw you in this cafe, the whole place would explode!"

We both burst into laughter, the tension dissolving into a comfortable warmth that felt like coming home. Wonyoung cupped my cheeks once again, her touch sending shivers down my spine. "It took me a whole year, Sunray Cafe," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "But I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere."

A surge of joy filled me as I leaned in, closing the distance between us. Our kiss was tender, a promise whispered on the wind. "I'm all yours, Wonyoung," I murmured against her lips.

The future stretched before us, uncertain yet filled with possibilities. We had a fight on our hands, the challenge of keeping our love a secret amidst the glare of the spotlight. But together, with the shared warmth of a stolen kiss and a year of yearning, we were ready to face anything. The cafe, once a symbol of lonely longing, was now bathed in the golden glow of a new dawn, the start of a beautiful love story between a barista and his superstar.

The End

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sandwhitches · 5 months ago

Note

hii! can i have a cherry popsicle abt suna confessing to the reader but he’s super nervous?? thanks so much! feel free to request smth from me if you’d like to do a little exchange:)

a/n: u must be a mind reader because i’ve LITERALLY been working on this exact prompt omg!!! it’s longer than a drabble (lowkey really long so i just formatted it like a fic☠️) because i already had most of it written when u requested so enjoy :3!! also u BET im gonna send u a request yay!!!

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐟𝐭. 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨)

desc: suna is an idiot and seeks the help of an unlikely (and annoying, in his humble opinion) ally to help him confess to you

content: fem. reader, language, suna’s little sister guest star!!!!! (i love that he canonically has a little sister; she’s like middle school age in this ughhhh suna as a big brother makes me want to combust), suna pining for you like a big stupid idiot

wc: 1.5k

this is a part of my summer writing event!!! please feel free to send some requests my way :3

Suna Rintaro knows two things for certain: firstly, he’s absolutely in love with you, and secondly, he hasn’t a clue what to do about it. It was easier for him to come to terms with the latter, seeing as he’d spent most of his teenage years rolling his eyes at mushy displays of affection and taking the piss out of his friends who seemed to have traded all necessary brain function in exchange for falling in love.

To him, falling in love this early on in life was as worthless and cheap as the chocolate he watched be gifted every Valentines Day; eventually, they’ll eat what they like and throw what they don’t in the trash, he’s seen it done countless times before, and he’d be stupid to let something like that happen to him.

Still, here he is, knee-deep and sinking even deeper as the moments go by, he thinks falling in love might be like being pushed into quicksand. As odd as it is for him to admit it to himself, he doesn’t mind it at all.

There’s a certain giddiness that can’t be awarded any time other than when you talk to him. He spends the rest of the afternoon and evening thinking about your conversations, wondering if he said something wrong, thinking of all the ways he could have prolonged the exchange, and smiling fondly when he remembers he managed to make you laugh three times (a new record for him).

“What’s with that face?” Atsumu had interrupted Suna during one of the breaks at volleyball practice, his idiotic grin on full display in Rintaro’s face. Had he really been smiling just from thinking about you?

Suna had mumbled something that sounded like an awkward mixture of shut up and fuck off, quick to storm away in hopes that Atsumu didn’t catch the violent reddening of his cheeks. This is not good, he thinks, love can’t really be this hard to ignore, can it?

He’s put up a hard battle against this exact scenario, and he’s afraid you might have unknowingly thrown a wrench right into his fine tuned machine of a brain. If this really was a battle, he’s fine raising a white flag in order to get to make you laugh more often, for the slight possibility of getting to know if your lips really feel as soft as they appear, and the hope that one day he might forget all about what it was like not to be entirely in love with you.

This is the nail in the coffin, his final surrender. Being in love really must make people stupid, because he’s nervously tugging his collar as he knocks on his younger sister's door. She chirps a surprised “Come in!” and Rintaro struggles to actually reach for the door, consumed with the reality of the fact that this really is where he’s ended up in his life. Great.

His sister gives him an incredulous look when she realizes it had been him who knocked, eyeing him suspiciously, “What do you want?” She mumbles in confusion, setting her pencil down. Suna parts his lips, mouth running dry, then sighs loudly, shaking his head.

“What is it?” She inquires, sudden agitation laced in her tone. Rintaro looks at the ground, too embarrassed to see the inevitable shift in her expression when he asks, “What’s the right way to ask out a girl?”

A silence follows that isn’t long enough in Suna’s opinion, quickly cut off by a loud bark of laughter, “No way! You’re asking me for advice?”

Here’s another thing Suna Rintaro knew for certain, there’s no word that describes the extent in which his younger sister is the bane of his existence.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Suna mutters self-consciously. This probably was a bad idea in theory, but as much as it pains him to admit it, this is his last resort. He knows next to nothing about how to be normal about talking to you, let alone confess; something is better than nothing in this situation, and he swears to himself that he will make sure he never has to ask his sister for advice like this again.

Love, when it comes to you, has to be a one and done thing. He’s sincerely praying to whoever is watching over him that he never has to feel the terror of confessing to anyone else again. It just has to be you.

That’s why he’s here, standing about as stiff as a marble statue as he pushes a shaky finger to your doorbell, drawing his hand back swiftly as if it burned him. In a spurt of unexplainable confidence, Suna had asked if you wanted to hang out on Saturday, conveniently leaving out the part where he desperately wished for it to be more than just a hang out.

Earlier that morning, he’d been so close to chickening out that his sister, of all people, angrily dragged him to the nearest grocery store with a scowl.

“Don’t get her roses, it’s way too soon for that kind of flower!” She snapped, swatting Suna’s hand away from the bouquet.

“Daisies? Seriously? Are you a serious?”

It would be an utter lie if Suna did not admit that he had no idea what his sister was talking about. If love really is this complex, maybe he’s not the right person for it. Still, he finds himself lingering on the face you make when you laugh, the way you’re the first person that he never got sick of texting into the early hours of the morning, and how you’re the only person that could ever make him reconsider that puppy love and crushes might mean something more than he’d given them credit for.

After all, the way he felt for you is what people call love, isn’t it?

Suna grips the assorted bouquet of colorful flowers that his sister had deemed good enough, listening to the sound of your front door clicking open. He’s doomed, this is a bad idea, and yet it’s the only thing he wants to do.

How’d you get to be so beautiful? Suna wonders that a lot, in fact, it makes him angry that you’d just waltzed into his life like you did. It’s absolutely unfair, he was a dead man before he could even put up a fight. Falling in love with you was unavoidable from the beginning, but he seems to be just okay with that.

“Oh!” Your eyes go wide, nonplussed by the bouquet in his hands, “Flowers for me?” You snicker, your laughter is probably the worst thing that could possibly happen right now, it makes everything ten times harder to do.

“Yeah, um-” Rintaro sputters, nervously darting his eyes around for the answer to your question. He knew the answer. You knew the answer.

Hastily, he holds it out for you to take, which you do without hesitation, “What’s the occasion?”

Suna Rintaro knows two more things for certain: firstly, he’ll die if he doesn’t tell you how he feels, and secondly, you’re smart enough to have already surmised exactly what the occasion is.

Everything his sister told him, advisories of “That’s too creepy!” and “Don’t be so blunt about it!” all fly to the back of his mind in exchange for the only things he can really manage to say.

“Well,” Suna starts, cringing at the way his voice cracks, he knows this is about to be the world’s worst confession.

“I, um, I got these for you because I think you’re really pretty,” you watch in bewilderment as his cheeks gradually saturate into a bright red, “but, that’s not just it!” Suna blurts, “You’re also really smart, and funny, and you’re probably the only person I could sit and talk to for hours without getting annoyed by-” Now, Suna is blatantly breaking the third piece of advice his sister had given him, don’t ramble.

“And, I really look forward to talking to you, even if it’s about boring stuff, I still want to hear you talk all day. Which, saying that out loud is really embarrassing for me, but, not because I’m embarrassed of you, I’m just embarrassed that I’m so-”

“Suna-” you interrupt, the cellophane wrap of the bouquet you held crackles as you lower it to see him better. You watch, partially in amusement, while the boy across from you struggles to comprehend everything he just said.

Suna is done for when it comes to you, this was priorly understood, so why is it so hard to put it into words if it’s all he ever thinks about? “I like you a lot…is that okay?” He finally sighs, pale green eyes flickering up to search for a silent answer in the faltering of your expression.

��That’s okay.” You nod, dumbfounded by the sudden declaration, each word was spoken with more confidence than anything you’ve ever heard him say before.

“Cool.” Suna nods dumbly.

“Cool.”

#suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro #suna haikyuu #suna rintarou #haikyuu x reader #suna fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #suna rintaro haikyuu #☀️.summer event 2k24 #🍓.suna

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huuuuughes · 5 months ago

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First Time Feeling - Mat Barzal x Reader

Pairing: Mat Barzal x Fem!Reader

Word count: 6.4k

Warnings: so much fluff, did i go overboard? maybe lol

A/N: this was my first time participating in a fic exchange and i honestly had so much fun. this is for the summer fic exchange 2k24 hosted by the lovely @wyattjohnston. it is written for the also fantastic @ahockeywrites! i am your friendly neighborhood exchange writer. i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it!

also i used google translate for the french. pls dont come for me if its not right im doing my best

It’s that time of year, when hockey pauses and every hockey player you know has a wedding because they scarcely get to have them in season. Growing up a coach's daughter, you were not unfamiliar with NHL weddings, and it meant your best friends were other kids from the organization your dad was in at the time. Now that you were getting to be that age it meant everyone you knew was having weddings.

Except you.

You were the one single person remaining in the bridal party for your best friend. Everyone did their best to try and include you without making it feel like third wheeling but sometimes it felt like that anyway. It wasn’t like they could help it and you were always happy for them. Weddings just seemed to rub salt in a wound now. Being alone scared you more than a lot of things. Which is why you were taking this bachelorette weekend to let loose and have fun. At least more than you usually let yourself. Your ability to do shots at a fast pace and without hesitation got you to that buzzed feeling a little too quickly.

But everyone was having fun. The band that was playing for the bar was insanely good and every song kept making you wanna dance. You managed to drag a few of your friends out onto the dance floor with you and it was the first time you felt free in a very long time.

“We’re gonna go get a drink, do you want something?!” Hannah attempts to yell over the volume of the music.

“YEAH, just water is good! Thanks!” You didn’t want to leave the dance floor- you were having a really good time. You let the music be your happy place for the moment, forgetting any problem you had before coming in the door. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed a trio of men looking at you. And then you have to do a double take, because you’d just seen those same 3 men at the previous bar, and the one before that…

Moving to a different spot on the dance floor didn’t seem to help. Hannah still wasn’t back from the bar and you were starting to think that these creeps were trying to form some kind of blockade. It was unsettling, but your usual fears were blurred by the alcohol that was currently coursing through your veins. You had forgotten there was a reason you didn’t like to drink that often. Then there was a tap on your shoulder, and as you turned around one of them was right there.

“You wanna dance sweetheart?” He screamed in your ear.

“No thanks! Just waiting for a friend!”

“I don’t see that friend anywhere right now, why don’t you want to dance?” Attempting to get closer to you, he moved forward causing you to back up into a stranger. Another one of his friends, you discovered, once you saw the first one smirk like there was some kind of inside joke that you weren’t in on.

“I said no.”

“That’s not what that outfit says.”

“Get away from me you fucking creep.” Your voice was firm, attempting to just go back to having fun. You closed your eyes, trying to let the music flow through you again. When you opened them there was yet another man coming at you, but this one didn’t feel threatening. He looked familiar, like you had maybe seen him before in passing. You couldn’t place it sober, and you definitely couldn’t in the current state you were in. He was making a beeline for you, pushing the first creep out of his way and almost onto the ground.

“Holy shit babe, there you are!You, my love, are too drunk! Time to go home!” Before you knew it he was reaching for your waist and your feet were no longer touching the ground. He throws you over his shoulder like you were nothing but a paper weight. Instead of the panic you should have felt, you relaxed over him. You didn’t fight the motion, it felt good to just stop for a moment. But then you realized that you really didn’t know who this was either and you just let a strange man pick you up and carry you out of the dance floor area.

“UM YEA HI, WHO ARE YOU?” You attempted to yell at him but the music was still loud. He either didn’t hear you or chose not to respond because you didn’t receive a response.

“Excuse me! Sir! I demand to know who you are please!”

Still nothing from him. He was like a big brick wall.

“JUST BECAUSE I'M SMALL DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN JUST MAN HANDLE ME.”

But then you were on the ground again. It had felt like years before he set you down again but when he did you were once again reunited with your friends. You finally had a chance to get a good look at the stranger who carried you. He was definitely over six feet tall, and was honestly the hottest man you’d ever seen in your life. His eyes were a soft brown color that you could almost drown in. His hair was also brown, and fell in different directions all over his head. The expression on his face was a neutral one, but you felt drawn to him.

“Girl holy shit, why didn’t you tell us those creeps were still following you?!”

“Stop shouting at him babe, you are FINE!”

“You guys failed to mention your friend was such a chatterbox when she’s intoxicated.” The man laughed, but you could barely focus on anything with the way the world seemed to be swaying about.

“Thanks so much Mat, for rescuing our friend. She’s kind of key to the wedding festivities this weekend.”

“No problem. I hope your night gets better from here. Tell Coach I said hi. Maybe I’ll see you this weekend ladies.” He winked, like he knew he was going to but was just saying that to be clever. He looked like he felt accomplished about your frustrated state. As if he found it cute or endearing that you were so small yet had so much anger.

“You know she’s single Mat!” One of your friends interjected. And with that the handsome stranger who now had a name walked off and out of the bar, and you wondered who his friends were. You watched as a smile broke out on his face again, as if he was thinking hard about the proposition just said to him.

“Have a safe night ladies.” He lifted his head in a nod and you watched him walk out of the bar and out of your sight.

Everyone in your group had also decided that they had enough for the night and you booked it back to your hotel. The wedding was in 2 days, and the rehearsal dinner is tomorrow evening. Tonight was the last night to let loose and perhaps you had come too loose.

The next morning…

Your head was pounding. Opening your eyes was a no go, the light too painful to look at. It was like your entire head was pulsing. Liquor should definitely not be mixed with any other type of alcohol, you thought.

“WAKEY WAKEY BITCH, UP AND AT EM!” The bride came into your room, clearly more ready to tackle the day than you were.

“Oh my god Hannah. STOP YELLING. My head is killing me…” you groaned.

“Oh I know, I was there too, bestie. I’ve brought Tylenol and water, and there’s breakfast in my room. Oh and here’s some sunglasses. Those might help for a bit.” She thrust all of the items in your arms and helped you sit up without dying.

“Come on, we have a bridal party meeting, maid of honor!”

You loved Hannah, you really did, but if she didn’t lower her volume you thought your head might explode. After a quick shower, some meds, and an outfit change you were ready for the bridal party meeting there was to be had. When you walked into the room it was a mixture of excitement and groaning. All of the bridesmaids looked like they’d been through it, but the groomsmen were relaxed. The groom had his party a few weeks ago, just in case any shenanigans ensued.

“There she is!”

That voice. You knew that voice…God why did you know that voice?

You almost dropped the plate of food in your hands. When you turned around the shock of who it was rendered you speechless. It was the man who carried you across the bar last night. The man you thought you’d never see again after that embarrassing spectacle you’d caused. The memory was slowly coming back to you, and you really, really hoped there wasn’t video evidence.

“Good to see you survived your journey home.” He smirked.

“Wait! Do you know Mat?!” Clutterbuck asked. You knew Cal from your dad’s years in the league. You knew most of the people in the room, but Mat had been a pretty private guy. You didn’t really know much about him other than he was damn good at hockey and had pretty nice eyes. Since you only knew him in passing, you had never heard him talk much and drunk, you definitely did not recognize him. You felt like the blood had entirely drained from your face all you could think of was how quickly you could get out of that room.

“Apparently I do.” Your eyes tried to stay fixed on the ground as the meeting got started. It was basically just going over who was going to walk down the aisle with who and what everyone’s entrances would be for the reception.

“So, you’ll be with Mat. You guys good with that?” You locked eyes with your best friend. You knew exactly what she was doing. She was trying to play matchmaker without even asking you first. How would she even know if he was your type?

“I mean I-,” You stammered.

“Yeah, it sounds great to me.”

Finally you had to look at him. Of course he would say that, maybe he was in on it, you were being tortured by all of your friends. You had to begin lining up to practice, making sure you didn’t fall flat on your face and embarrass the bride. They all knew him, there was definitely an underlying motive. You had a feeling it was because they didn’t want everyone to pair up and you were left by yourself. It was a nice gesture, but being filled in would have felt nice so you did not in fact have a strange man picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder in a bar.

Being the maid of honor, you were last in the order to go. You waited patiently in the back of the line, the only one who was not linked in arms with their partner. Mat offered his arm to you, attempting to show some good will.

“You gonna take it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“No.”

“Listen, I’m sorry about last night. Your friends told me to come get you by whatever means necessary so that is what I did.”

“So you decided the only way was to pick me up with no warning? Who taught you to do that?” You threw your arms up in the air almost in defeat, you didn’t know what to make of what he did. You may have been drunk but you were never going to forget looking down at the ground when being carried across the room.

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you.” He shrugged and still somehow managed to look smug. He knows what he’s doing, and he definitely thought that he was being charming by doing so.

“I want you to tell me why you did that! All you had to do was grab my hand and lead me away!” You’d had enough of his games. You were going to get some answers before the night was over and done with.

“They all seem to know you, but I don’t. Why is that?” You had turned to face him, staring him down in order to get him to crack. It was almost your turn. You’d run into a slight issue when the bride decided she wanted to switch up the order of things before the honors of maid of honor and best man. All this meant was more time to get him to crack, which if he had known any better, would not take you very long. His resolve was weakening, and quickly.

“I’ve been around. You just haven’t noticed me.”

“I think I would have noticed you.” It would be hard to miss someone as pretty as he was. Did you really just admit that? Your dad hadn’t been with the Islanders for several years, but you still knew who most of the team was. Based on what you had managed to Google on the walk from the meeting to the present rehearsal location was that he was a pretty damn good hockey player.

“I don’t think so sweetheart. Your friends have told me all about you too, you know.”

“Oh yeah? What did they tell you?” You were almost angry but didn’t know why.

“Well for starters they just want you to be happy. They know you haven’t been happy for a little while now.” He smiled at you, and you tried not to melt in response. The way your body reacted so physically to him when all he did was smile was not something that you could ignore.

“And what else?” You prompted.

“My last relationship was some time ago, and let’s just say it didn’t end that well. They’ve noticed I haven’t been happy either.”

“You look happy to me.”

“Looks can be deceiving. The cameras and the media pick up only what they want to see.” This time he didn’t meet your eye. Which told you everything you needed to know. You would never understand how strangers and the media thought they knew someone just by what you see them do as an athlete. As if they don’t have personal lives or things that are important to them. Your suspicions were confirmed, but not in the way you thought. Of course your friends wanted to set you up with someone. Not to be funny or to try and make a joke, but they hated to see you so unhappy. Things were starting to make a little more sense.

“So you knew their motives?” You asked, feeling bad about how you had sort of gone at him without knowing why. You couldn’t undo the years of crappy guys that you had to deal with in the past, but now you could learn to give Mat a better chance.

“Partially. I knew they wanted to set me up with someone, but I don’t enjoy the anxiety of blind dates. They didn’t want me to say anything to you- they wanted to protect you. Based on your reaction I’m guessing you don’t enjoy surprises either.”

“Correct. So what would you like to do about this?” You asked, hopeful.

“I think we should see where the weekend takes us, and go from there. How’s that sound?”

You hoped that he couldn’t see the blush starting to appear in your cheeks. Your friends did this on purpose. They wouldn’t just set you up with some hockey player they didn’t know or trust, they knew he had to be vetted first. They also knew that you wouldn’t just take being set up with someone due to your stubbornness, so this was the only way they knew how to get to you.

“I’d like that.” His smile was infectious and you could feel yourself reciprocating.

Once the rehearsal dinner was figured out, the rest of the evening seemed to go as planned. Most importantly, the bride was happy. You noticed Mat across the room, smiling at you. You were alone at the bar, and watched him excuse himself from the conversation he was having to walk your direction.

“You wanna get out of here?” It was almost a whisper, so only you could hear it. You looked around the room to make sure that your absence wouldn’t be noticed.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You took the hand that he offered you and followed him out of the room. His car was already waiting, the perks of having the wedding on Long Island was a lot of the wedding guests already lived in the area.

“I feel like a teenager sneaking out when I’m not supposed to!” He held the door open for you as you slid in, and he climbed into the driver’s seat, “Where are you taking me sir?”

The sun was starting to set, making the sky an orangish pink color. It was like all of the colors of the sky melting together, painting a beautiful scene that no camera could ever do justice. He reached over and grabbed your hand as he began to drive. It looked like he was going nowhere in particular, and he squeezed your hand gently. You appreciated a first move when you saw one, it took the anxiety out of the way and you instantly felt more relaxed around him.

“There’s somewhere I want to show you. It’s not that far from here, is that okay?” You nodded. According to maps, the destination was only a few miles away. It was almost dark out, but not quite. The sun rested quietly in the sky, hovering just above the skyline ready to disappear. Mat still held your hand in his, gently squeezing every so often as if to reassure you of something but you weren’t quite sure what yet. When you arrived at your destination, there wasn’t another car to be seen. The only sound came from a distance, and then you looked around.

“Where are we?” You asked.

“Crescent Beach. I used to come here a lot when I first came to New York. The city can be overwhelming sometimes, but out here you can actually hear yourself think. The sunset’s here are something to behold, I’ve heard.” He held out his hand for you to take, and led you on to the beach. He had already grabbed two blankets from his trunk. You laughed a little bit, you always kept blankets and towels in the back of your car just in case too.

“It looks like we’re just in time for sunset.” Mat laid down one of the blankets on the sand. You were close enough to the water to be able to smell it, but not close enough that the tide could touch you. He placed the other blanket over the two of you, sitting down beside you after you got comfortable.

“The sky looks beautiful right now. I would have never thought a sunset in Long Island could look like this!” You closed your eyes for a second, taking in the smell of the ocean and the sound of the waves. It was the peace you were looking for during the wedding weekend.

“New York can be beautiful when it wants to be. You just have to know where to look.”

“I like to think that whenever there is a sunset this beautiful, it’s just someone you lost saying hello. Like a little wave from the sky, you know?” You asked him. He nodded, looking out across the horizon. “Tell me about you Mat.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Why did our friends want to set you up with someone?” You were curious.

“I’d been on and off with someone for a long time. It was unhealthy for me, and for anyone to be around me. Let’s just say I wasn’t always the most pleasant person. I want to start a family one day. With as much as players can move around, my home is with a person. Not a place or anything like that, if that makes any sense at all.”

“I was the same way with my dad. We moved around every few years, it felt like I could never really put down roots in one place.”

“What’s your favorite color?” He asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

“What does my favorite color have to do with anything?”

“It says a lot about a person to me.”

“You’re a little strange, has anyone ever told you that?” You both laughed, his was infectious.

“Just answer the question!”

You tell him your favorite color, smiling.

“Don’t you want to know what mine is?” He asked.

“Tell me.”

“It’s blue.”

“Like Islanders blue?”

“Any blue, but right now, blue like the ocean.” The breeze started to blow hard, quickly reminding you that you were in fact in New York, not a beach somewhere tropical. Mat was good at making you feel like you were somewhere else but in a good way.

“Tell me something else about you Mr. Barzal.”

“Is this 20 questions or something?”

“It is now!” You playfully smacked his thigh, you were so close together it wouldn’t take much for you to lean in and kiss him.

“Tes yeux sont les plus beaux que j'ai jamais vus.” You could tell he was speaking French just from the way he changed his accent. Since when could this beautiful man speak french?!

“You can speak french?”

“A hobby of mine, you could say.” From the way the words flowed out of his mouth, you knew it wasn’t just a hobby.

“What did you say?” You turned to look at him, slightly shorter so that you had to look up to look at each other. Everything else seemed to disappear behind him. There could have been roars of people around you, but you wouldn’t have been able to hear them. It was true what they said, when you found the right person it was like everything else melted away.

“I said you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.” You couldn’t even attempt to hide the blush you could feel forming in your cheeks.

“Is that how you get all the ladies?” You managed to speak finally, after gaining your composure again. But your voice was quiet, like you didn’t want to know the answer.

“Tu es le seul que je veux.” His forehead came to rest against yours. You could feel his hot breath against your face, lighting the nerves in your body on fire.

“Tell me what you said.” You breathed out, trying to catch your breath as if it had been taken from you.

“You are the only one I want.”

“Okay.” You didn’t know why you were saying it. But he seemed to know why, and crashed his lips against yours. His hand came up to cup the back of your head, bringing you as close to him as you could get. The ocean breeze no longer seemed to matter as you began exploring each other’s bodies. He pulls you onto his lap, wrapping the blanket around you in one fluid motion. His lips tasted slightly of whiskey and chocolate, inviting and warm. Warmth blossomed in your chest, like you wanted to be engulfed in each other. You could feel his hands wanting to go under your shirt, and you nodded into the kiss to let him know that it was okay.

You pulled back just for a moment to catch your breath, but not letting your forehead leave his. You were breathing hard against each other as one, in sync already after the slightest touch. His eyes told you everything you needed to know, and you felt safe in his arms. Mat placed his hands on either side of your face, allowing you to feel just how much the moment meant to him. To him, he was holding his world in his hands and now he never wanted to let you go. His next kiss felt like fireworks, and now you knew what it felt like when people said they never wanted something to end. A kiss like the two of your lives depended on it, and you wanted to get lost in him. His kisses were soft at first and increased in intensity every time you drew back for a breath. You wanted more, you wanted all of him.

He breathed your name, realizing that it was in fact now dark outside. The only light came from the street lights in the parking lot and the small flashlight Mat had brought from his car. He brought you in for a hug against him, tucking your head into the nape of his neck. You fit there perfectly, and the smell of his cologne engulfed all of your senses.

“We should probably head back to the hotel.” He whispered, but didn’t make any moves to let go of you.

“Maybe…”

“That doesn’t mean we have to be alone tonight.” He squeezed you, the reassurance washing over you. You nod, and get up off the ground. Mat shakes off the blankets, trying to get rid of as much sand as possible. But you knew that there would be sand all over you for days, in places you never think sand would end up. He got you settled in the car, placing the supplies back where he got them from. Once back in the car, he took your hand once more and you drove quietly back to the hotel.

“Where do we go from here?” You asked.

“I like you.” Another hand squeeze. You didn’t know what to say back to him, too afraid that anything would scare him off just like the other guys you’d dated. “You don’t have to say it back yet, I just didn’t want this night to end without telling you that. When I know I want something, I won’t stop until I can have it. If you’ll let me, that is.”

“What about tonight?” He didn’t answer you, but that was okay. It was unspoken, hanging in the air like a cloud, but you knew you weren’t going to be alone that night. Or the rest of the weekend, if Mat had anything to say about it. Arriving back at the hotel, Mat handed his keys off to the valet and led you inside.

“Is there anything you need to get from your room?” He asked once in the elevator.

“Not that I can think of.”

“Good.” Once the elevator doors opened to his floor, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder once again. But this time you were more than okay with it. He had to set you down in order to open his room, but picked you up again once you were inside. He laid you down on the freshly laundered bed, throwing your shoes across the room and his along with them. You crawled under the covers together, and all he did was hold you. There were the occasional make out sessions throughout the night, but nothing more. He told you about his childhood and growing up playing hockey, and you told him about the life of being a coach's daughter.

He told you about the way he likes his eggs cooked, his pregame rituals, and all the movies he liked to watch. You talked about anything and everything that came to mind, eventually falling asleep in his arms. When you woke up it didn’t feel strange, it felt like you were supposed to be there. The morning after was always an awkward moment, falling over your words and trying to sneak out without the other person noticing. There was no sneaking out this time, instead you woke up with a kiss from Mat being planted on the top of your head.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He whispered, kissing around your neck and cheeks as much as he could.

“It’s wedding day today.” You smiled, you were excited to get your best friend in the world down the aisle. In helping her find her happiness, you had also managed to find some of yours.

“I’m guessing you have to go soon?” He asked, looking down at you.

“Well I am the maid of honor you know, I think someone will notice if I’m not there.”

“But what if I told you I just wanted to hold you all day instead?” He smirked. The hold that this man already had over you..

“What if I told you, that starting tomorrow you never had to let go of me again?” He sat up quickly and looked down at you.

“You mean it?”

“Well I don’t just spend the night with anyone, Mathew. I think our friends might just be right…” You smiled, he came down to kiss you so fast you didn’t even know what hit you. Was it crazy to rush into something so fast? Maybe. But did it feel right? Absolutely. You’d read all the romance novels of quick relationships, always telling yourself it wasn’t actually like that. Those were just fairy tales you could read about, nothing like that would ever happen in real life.

It took a little more convincing for him to actually let you get out of bed and go to the bridal suite where everyone was getting ready. Of course he had to be with the grooms party, but somehow it never took guys quite as long to get ready.

“Are you sure you have to go right now?” He asked once he pulled away from you. You didn’t want to get out of the nice comfy bed with a pretty man laying in it but duty called.

“Yessss, do you think you’ll be able to survive without me for a few hours?” You started to throw off the covers, but he pulled you back in.

“No, I don’t actually. I might just lay here and cry all day!” You laughed, knowing that both the bride and groom would come for him but let him pretend.

“You’ll be fine, I promise. If you let me go, I’ll let you grab my butt when we dance later.”

“DEAL!” One more quick kiss, and you were finally able to get up. One wave goodbye as you opened the door to leave, and you were off. You had to stop by your own room to get your dress and makeup, and then it was off to the bridal suite. You were surprisingly one of the first ones to arrive, and were able to eat a little bit of breakfast for once. Everyone in the bridal party got to choose their own dress as long as it was within the color palette, and yours was your favorite shade of blue. It fits you in all of the right places, just the way that it should. The bride paid for everyone’s hair to be done, and once everyone was all finished getting ready it was time to take pictures of the bridal party. The photographer seemed to be on her A-game, and for once things were running on time in your life. Anthony already gone to take his place

Finally you got to have a moment just you and your best friend on her big day. The day both of you had talked about since you were kids, the one that you spent planning on pinterest for hours without even a thought of someone in the picture.

“Hannah… you look stunning! I hope today is everything you ever dreamed it would be. I can’t wait to see the look on Anthony’s face when he sees you today. I’ll still beat him up if he ever hurts you though. Are you ready?”

“Have I told you I love you yet today?”

“I love you too girl. Let’s get you married!” Each bridesmaid had their groomsman, and you took your place at the end. Mat walked around the corner and paused when he saw you, stopping him dead in his tracks.

“You like something you see sir?” He offered up his arm for you to take once he made his way to you.

“Tu es le seul que je veux.” He repeated his words from last night, kissing your cheek.

“Me too.” You’d learn how to say it in french, one day at least.

Of course there wasn’t a dry eye in the house after the ceremony. After all of the guests made their way to the reception hall and the rest of the wedding party photos were taken, the evening seemed to go rather smoothly. You may or may not have felt Mat’s hand graze across your butt a few times during pictures, but you kindly reminded him that he wasn’t allowed to feel your butt until you got to dance. He acted like you were torturing him though, depriving him of a dream.

You wanted to get your wedding mingling out of the way first, so that you could enjoy the night with who you wanted. It did not go without notice that Mat’s eyes were following you around the room in a very flirty kind of way. You hadn’t felt like this in a really long time, like you could relax because you were finally comfortable with someone.

“Hey bestie, how is your night going?” Hannah found her way over to you, and more of your friends noticed. You recognized what was happening, they wanted to get all of the dirty details about you and Mat. Of course their plan was successful, but you were also a proud individual. All of them were smiling a little too big at you, asking without actually asking.

“I know what you’re trying to do here!” You accused her.

“Don’t waste time woman, we wanna know! How’s it going with Mat?” Hannah asked.

“I saw you going into his room last night!”

“We know you two snuck off last night, don’t even lie.”

“Where did he take you! Was it romantic?”

“One question at a time!” You were only one person after all, “It’s still very new, we just met this weekend.”

“That smile doesn’t lie sweetie.” You were a bad liar and they knew it.

“Okay fine. Yes we snuck off last night, yes I was in his room but we didn’t do anything but talk and make out, he took me to a beach, and yes it was romantic! Now if you don’t mind, I promised my man a dance and that he could touch my butt. I always keep my promises!”

“YOUR MAN?”

You ran before they could question you further, right towards Mat, who held his arms open for you. Hiding things was never your strong suit, so you two had decided to not even bother.

“They look like you just told them the world is going to end tonight, what happened?” He asked, bringing you into his arms for all the world to see. Clearly he was ready to make everyone aware you were an item, and you weren’t going to object.

“I called you my man, and then immediately walked away.” You smiled up at him.

“Oh you did?”

“Yes sir.”

“I guess that does leave us with the big question.”

“What question?”

“What are we going to do with us? Did this weekend make you want to see me again?” Great opportunities rarely presented themselves at your doorstep. Mat had treated you better in the last 24 hours than a lot of people and you already knew your loved ones approved. It felt right, your gut always had a good feeling about these things. It would always be fun to tell the grandkids you met at a wedding, you’d tell them the part about the bar when they were old enough.

“I said you were my man, did I not?”

“Well you did keep me waiting ma’am, that’s a criminal offense. I’m not sure if I’m your man yet.” He said through a smile.

“Oh is that so?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Nah I’m just fuckin with you, I’ve been dying to kiss you all night.” He brought his hands up to cup either side of your face, and kissed you in a way that shouldn’t be in the middle of your best friends wedding reception.

“You don’t want to touch my butt?” You ask when you finally pull apart.

“Of course I do, but if I touch your butt right now we would be leaving this party within the next few minutes and I believe we both have important things to do.” He whispered in your ear, giving him a look. A look that said I know you want to take my clothes off right now, so I’m going to do my best to tease you. After pulling away, Mat offered you his hand for the dance you had promised.

Standing in the middle of the dance floor with him, while looking at your surroundings and seeing how happy your best friend was, kind of hit you like a sack of bricks. A few years ago if someone had told you this was where your life would end up, you’d have called them crazy. You felt him kiss your forehead as you danced, and you felt yourself melt into him a little. You had no defenses against him, your walls suddenly disappeared when he was near. If he was out of your sight, suddenly the world wasn’t as clear anymore. Maybe summer wasn’t just a time for flings, because this one felt different. Who would have thought just one summer weekend could be so life changing.

........

Half a summer and one year later…

You couldn’t believe you were standing where you were. Summer was starting to become your favorite season. The only thing that brought you back down to earth was the squeeze you felt on your hand from your new husband. The look of reassurance on his face told you all that you needed to know, that he loved you and that you’d be fine. Crowds weren’t always your thing, even if it was your own wedding.

“You ready?”

He knew the timing of your entrance better than anyone, and you could hear Tito start to speak from the other side of the door. The doors opened, blinding you with light. You felt one last squeeze, and then your brain managed to get your feet to start moving again.

“My friends, it is my honor and great pleasure to introduce to you for the very first time… MR. AND MRS. MATHEW BARZAL!”

#hockey #nhl #summer fic exchange 2k24 #new york islanders #mat barzal #mathew barzal #isles #mat barzal x reader #fluff #danielle writes #mat barzal x reader fluff #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine #nhl imagine

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iamnotoriginalphil · 4 months ago

Text

Story Book Romance (Larissa Weems x f!Reader)

Synopsis: As the owner of a bookstore in Jericho, you've gotten rather good at giving recommendations to your customers. There's only one woman you desperately want to give one to.

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: discussions of discrimination, like one swear word

AN: It's been a hot minute since I've written for Larissa so please be kind. I'm a bit rusty. I hope it's still good.

The first time you’d walked into your shop, you’d fallen in love. It had been an empty space, but you had been able to see exactly what it would become. Inch by inch you built it up into your dream.

All these years later, your bookshop was thriving.

You hadn’t been sure about settling down in Jericho. The town was picturesque and it had a deep sense of history, but you weren’t sure if there was a market for a bookshop. You’d only meant to be passing through. Still, the space had called to you so you’d created a safe haven for yourself.

The large window at the front let in sunlight to warm the room, catching the motes of dust as they spun in the air. Shelves pushed against the walls and freestanding, creating mazes of books for customers to get lost in. Potted and hanging plants bringing some life to the space. The air smelt of ink and paper and stories, the scent you’d grown up with, comforting you even on the darkest of nights.

You hadn’t expected to be so embraced by the community. Perhaps you should have. The quaint town ran at a more leisurely pace than the city, giving the time for browsing stacks upon stacks of books, taking time to read a book on a warm summer afternoon. You’d grown to have the reputation to be able to recommend the perfect book to anyone.

The first time she’d walked into your shop, you hadn’t thought much of it. The bell had rang out, sweet in the quiet atmosphere of the shop. One more customer, one more story, the joy of helping someone discover something they might love. You’re turned the corner and immediately been struck dumb.

She was glorious. It was the first word that had come to your mind when you’d laid eyes on her. Tall, statuesque, elegant. Incredibly beautiful. Red lips had pulled up into a pleasant smile upon seeing you, blue eyes sweeping over your shop with a twinkle lighting her up from the inside out. Silver hair swept up, showing the long line of her neck only made you want to feel her pulse under your lips. The body hugging dress was unfair, leaving you feeling frumpy in your jeans and cardigan.

“Do you need any help?” you’d managed to stutter out, pushing past the sheer awe you felt looking at her.

She hadn’t, her voice smooth and lovely when she’d answered. Her accent made your mouth grow dry and your knees turn to jelly. So you’d turned on your heels and disappeared back into the safety of your stacks. You were lost, and it wasn’t to your own imagination this time.

Despite not being very helpful, she’d continued to come back, slowly exploring your store with each visit.

One such day in early fall, you could be found reshelving in the lull between customers. It had been a busy morning, a group of tourists having swept through for you to clean up after. You were humming to yourself, lingering over each book, doing your best not to let your thoughts linger on the beautiful woman that kept visiting your shop.

Over the last few months she’d come in at least once a week. You’d felt her presence like electricity on the air each time. She’d linger, browsing longer and longer before picking a book and bringing it to the counter to be rung up. Each time she’d offered you a smile, a comment, the brush of her gloved fingers in the exchange. It set your heart racing.

But she’d never asked for a recommendation before. You longed to give her one, to see if the woman you’d built in your head was anything like reality.

The bell above the door rang out. You ignored it, knowing you’d be found eventually if you were needed. Stretching up onto your tiptoes, you pushed a book back into place. Unlike the shelves along the walls, this one didn’t have a rolling ladder for you. Instead, stepstools were scattered throughout, waiting to be of some use to the poor person wanting to reach the top shelf.

A small meow caught your attention.

“I know, Moppet. It is a travesty.”

Your kitten, a calico you’d rescued off the street, had taken to shouting her opinion at you whenever the chance presented itself. In true bookshop fashion, you’d thought a cat would only add to the atmosphere. Unfortunately, yours just seemed to want to complain to anyone that would listen.

Another meow.

“Have you considered using your words?” you asked, scooping her up, “you’re always so quiet, Moppet.”

Her claws sunk in as she clambered onto your shoulder, balancing precariously. You bent your head towards her, letting her bump her own head against your cheek. She rubbed against you, her little purring making you smile.

“Is that the newest employee?”

You startled, your hand coming up to keep from jostling Moppet as you turned. She was standing at the end of the stack, those blue eyes sparkling as they peered at you. Your cheeks heated and you felt frozen on the spot. Approaching, a smile stretched over her red painted lips as she looked at your little kitten.

“This is Moppet,” you said as if that was the obvious answer to the question.

She held her finger out and the little traitor rubbed against it, her purring increasing. She gave her a gentle scratch behind the ear. Those blue eyes met yours and you flushed, entranced under her gaze. The scent of her perfume, something floral and expensive, wrapped around you, turning your head hazy.

“Moppet?” she asked.

“I spent my childhood lost in Beatrix Potter,” you replied.

“And you dismissed Mittens and Tom as names?” she asked.

“She’s much more a Moppet,” you said.

Her tiny paw came out, swiping at her hand, batting her finger away.

“No, Moppet,” you scolded, “we treat people with respect.”

“It’s alright,” she said, taking a reserved stepped back.

“If I don’t teach her now, she’ll be uncontrollable in her adolescence,” you said.

“Yes, teenagers can be difficult,” she agreed.

Moppet gently nudged at your cheek again, stealing your attention. You manoeuvred her from your shoulder, back into your arms. She meowed loudly, her claws digging into your cardigan, getting caught as she struggled. You were patient as you untangled her, listening to her ongoing commentary.

“Can I help you with something today?” you asked the woman when you finally got Moppet free.

You popped her down on the floor. She turned, looking up at you with a grumpy noise, before sauntering off into a more interesting part of the bookshop. Straightening, you forced a smile on your face as you looked up into the face of the towering woman.

“I’ve heard you’re rather good at giving recommendations,” she said into your expectant silence, “I find myself in need of something new. Ideally not about teenagers.”

You considered her a moment, eyes sweeping over her form. It would be so easy to assume she would want something along the lines of a classic, or perhaps poetry. You tilted your head, considering what she’d bought before, where she sometimes lingered in the shop, the references she sometimes dropped.

“I have just the thing,” you said.

You walked off, glancing over your shoulder to find her following you on silent feet. No wonder she kept managing to sneak up on you. She was like a ghost. You thought it wouldn’t be such a horrifying thing to be haunted by her.

Stopping in front of a packed shelf, your eyes roamed over it, searching out the title you wanted. Pushing up onto tiptoes, you tugged one down. You held it for a moment before passing it over to her. Her eyes stayed on you for a moment before they dragged down to the book now in her hands.

“Rebecca?” she asked.

“If you haven’t already read it,” you replied, “I think you’ll quite like it.”

“I’m sure I’ll find it wonderful,” she said with a smile for you.

She returned about a week after, finding you staring up at a tall shelf, hands on your hips, less than pleased. A small face was peeking over the edge, green eyes and whiskers looking surprisingly smug for a feline face.

“No, you can’t stay up there,” you said.

A small disinterested meow.

“I know you like it up there, Moppet, but it’s not safe,” you said in reply.

A long yawn showed you the contempt she felt towards you. You sighed, doing your best not to get frustrated. You could go and find a ladder, but then you might lose her again. She’d wander off and enjoy the game of hide and seek she was forcing you into you.

“You appear to be in a bit of a predicament.”

“She’s playing with me, the little troublemaker,” you said, not bothering to turn around. The bell had been warning enough.

“Do you want some help?” your mystery woman asked.

“Would you mind? You might have an actual chance of reaching her,” you said.

She stepped up to your shoulder, waiting for you to get off the step stool. You watched her ascend, trying not to ogle her like a creep but not quite managing it. Shapely calves led up to the curve of her hips, making your mouth grow dry as you gazed upon her.

“Come on, little one,” she murmured.

A small yowl came from the shadows atop the shelf. She muttered under her breath and then a displease face was dragged over the edge. In gentle arms, she carried your troublemaker back down to you. Her bare fingers were gently stroking along her spine, her gloves not present for the first time since you’d seen her.

“Safe and sound,” she said, looking to you with a wide smile.

“Thanks,” you said.

You took the kitten back from her, ignoring the grumpy look she gave you as you took her from her comfortable lounging position in the woman’s arms. Your hand brushed over hers, soft skin warm against yours. Your heart flipped over itself at the feeling.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you said to Moppet, “I warned you.”

Her claws dug in to your forearm as she tried to rearrange herself into a more comfortable position. She rolled until her stomach was facing you, green eyes staring at you unblinking. You scratched her tummy, waiting for her to clamp onto your skin.

“She does seem to enjoy getting into trouble, doesn’t she,” the woman said, snatching your attention back.

“You should have seen her last night. She got into the bath after I’d drained it, then shouted until I came to investigate and made me think she was stuck, then just calmly hopped out and wandered off like I was being ridiculous,” you said, “she likes making me worry.”

“But she’s rather sweet,” she said, stepping into your personal space to offer more pats to your cat.

“Oh, the sweetest. She can get away with anything,” you agreed.

The two of you took a moment to stare into the yawning face of Moppet. She really had stolen your heart. When you looked back to her, she was smiling down at your cat, eyes sparkling, looking just as under her spell as you were.

“Sorry to hijack your browsing,” you said, that sense of shame from taking her attention for yourself burning in your bloodstream.

“I was actually looking for you,” she said, not realising the pulse of pleasure that gave you, “I’m in need of another recommendation. You did so wonderfully last time.”

You’d never thought of yourself as someone who enjoyed being praised but on her lips it sounded so good. You wanted to keep giving her reason to bestow more upon you.

“I know just the thing.”

You didn’t have to go far to get the book you were thinking of. Juggling the cat in your arms with the book you crouched to find, you managed to drop a kiss on the top of her head before releasing her to find more trouble to get in. Standing, you passed the book over to her, purposefully brushing your fingers against hers.

“I know it’s been made into a movie, but the book offers up something more,” you said.

“I’m unfamiliar with the movie,” she said.

“Not a fan of Tom Hiddleston?”

She raised an eyebrow at you and you tried your best not to read too much into it. It would be so easy to read too much into it. Maybe it wouldn’t be too much, if the way she was looking at you spoke to something more.

“Well, anyway,” you said, turning away from her to keep from doing something silly, “I hope it pleases you.”

“I’m sure it will,” she said.

When she turned away from the counter a few minutes later, a couple of your regulars stepped past her, giving her a wide berth. Trying not to show how strange you found their behaviour, you busied yourself straightening the display next to the counter.

“They shouldn’t let them around the rest of us,” one of the women said, uncaring of you listening in.

“They should be left up in that school to rot,” the other said, “they’re a danger to us all.”

“Outcasts have no business bringing their trouble to us,” the first said, before turning to you, “don’t you agree?”

You realised they were talking about your favourite customer. Who must be a teacher from Nevermore. Making her an outcast.

“I’ve never had any issue with them,” you replied evenly.

They both sniffed, turning away from you. You weren’t about to openly insult a portion of your customer base. That would clear out your shop quick smart.

You hadn’t realised she’s still been there to hear your response until the next week when she returned. Moppet was curled up in her basket by the window and you were going around watering the plants while you had a moment of peace. It was quiet in the shop, nothing but the soft sounds of music playing over the speakers and you moving through the stacks.

The bell above the front door rang and you smiled to yourself. You waited a few moments before turning, finding her watching you with an unreadable expression on her face at the end of the stack. You placed the watering can down, turning an expectant look on her. Only then the silence continued to stretch.

“You’ve returned,” you said when it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything.

“I have,” she said.

“Did you enjoy Crimson Peak?” you asked.

“It was certainly atmospheric,” she replied.

“I suppose you’re looking for another recommendation?” you asked.

“I am,” she said.

“Nothing set in a boarding school right?”

You laughed. She didn’t. The moment stretched on and on, settling into an uncomfortable silence.

“Sorry,” you muttered.

“I’m unused to people choosing to side with us in this town,” she said, her expression still unreadable to you.

“You heard that conversation,” you said. It wasn’t a question. You didn’t need to ask. It was obvious she had.

“If you’d rather, I can return to buying my books online,” she said.

“Why?” you asked, so taken aback by the turn the conversation had taken.

“I understand that normies are wary around outcasts,” she said, “this town has been… there have been issues between the school and the town.”

“I don’t want you to stop shopping here,” you said.

“You don’t care I’m from Nevermore?” she asked.

“Even teachers have to buy books. Why would your place of work matter?” you replied, shooting her a smile to let her know that of course it didn’t matter to you.

“I suppose it doesn’t,” she replied slowly, “although, in the name of honesty, I’m the principal, not a teacher.”

So this was Larissa Weems. You’d heard whispers of her around town, but hadn’t thought you’d met the woman yourself. Keeping away from some of the larger town gatherings had left her more of a machiavellian figure looming over the town from her place in the school.

Turns out, the rumours were completely overblown and they’d hidden the goddess you’d been finding yourself enchanted by more and more with ever encounter.

“Even better,” you said, “so, a new book recommendation?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

You graced her with a wide smile. You’d been thinking about it all week, the next book you’d recommend her. It was a bit of a risk, but you wanted to gauge her reaction to it.

“How familiar are you with early vampire fiction?” you asked, leading her off to your classics section.

“I’ve dabbled in Dracula,” she replied evenly.

“Anything else?”

“I’m afraid not,” she said and you found yourself pressing your lips together to keep from smiling too widely.

“I’ll be interested to hear your thoughts on this one,” you said, “especially since I’ve never met a vampire before. It’s probably completely inaccurate but writers take all kinds of liberties.”

She hummed but didn’t give you much more than that. You paused in front of the right shelf, a shiver of apprehension going through you. It might be a bad idea, giving her the book you were thinking of.

You reached up on tip toes, your fingers just brushing the spine of the book you wanted. You glanced to the side, looking for one of your trust step stools. A warm presence stepped up to your shoulder and you felt your cheeks heat as she reached up, over your head, pulling down the book you’d tried to grasp. She was so close, practically caging you against the shelves. She paused a moment, that intense gaze sweeping down to you. The moment spun out like sugar, delicate and sweet, leaving you breathless.

“Was the the one you were looking for?” she asked, voice soft, almost intimate.

“Yeah.” You nodded your head, “that’s the one.”

She took a step back, the book clutched in her hand. Glancing down, her eyebrows drew together and you wanted to know what she was thinking so desperately it was like a physical weight sitting on your chest.

“Carmilla?” she asked, looking back to you.

“One of the original vampire stories,” you said, “I know it’s not the longest but-“

“No, that will do nicely. I have a rather busy week coming up,” she said.

“I’m glad to help,” you said.

She lingered another moment and you weren’t sure what to say to her. The shop was quiet and it felt as if you were inhabiting a bubble of time with her that was seperate from the rest of reality.

“I’m unused to being shown such kindness from people like you,” she said.

“Bookshop owners?” you asked, “cat moms?”

Her smile was indulgent. It made your heart do a backflip and you realised maybe you could spend forever in that aisle with her.

“You can’t help how you’re born,” you said.

“Not everyone is as kind as you,” she said, looking down, refusing to meet your eye.

“They’re idiots,” you said, “your teenagers are no more a danger to us than Derrick who keeps setting fires.”

“I don’t scare you?” she asked, looking at you from under lowered lashes.

She did, but not in the way she was thinking. Just in the normal way that a beautiful woman giving you the time of day scared you. But you figured saying that out loud would be more embarrassing than you could handle at that time.

“No,” you said.

“Not even a little bit?” she asked.

“You’ve been nothing but pleasant to me so unless you’re about to threaten me, I think we’re good,” you said.

She took a step towards you and without thought you took one back. Your spine hit the shelves behind you and your mouth fell open as she crowded you against it. Her perfume surrounded you, her warmth curling around you, leaving you a mess as you stared up into her face. Her lips pulled up into a smirk, temptation never looking better.

“You don’t feel the least bit intimidated?” she whispered.

Her hand rested on the shelf by your head, effectively keeping you caged. Your heart beat hard in your chest and you were sure she could hear it. Her smirk deepened and you found yourself without words. You shook your head. There was no feeling of intimidation, but by god was there something. Something hot and throbbing and desperate.

Cold air hit you and it took a moment for you to realise she’d backed off, leaving you leaning on the shelves while you tried to get your knees to work again. Her face had returned to the unreadable expression and you weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself. You tugged on your cardigan, wrapping it around your body like armour to save your vulnerable heart. You were worried it was on display for her, easy to see exactly how you were feeling.

“Did you want anything else?” you asked, not realising how it might sound until her eyebrow rose. Your cheeks heated and you looked down at your feet, your weight shifting from foot to foot.

“I think that’s all for today,” she answered, kindly not mentioning any of your odd behaviour from the last few minutes.

“I’ll just, uh, ring you up then,” you said, cheeks aflame, not able to look at her.

If you did, you might get lost in the thought of how close she’d been, the brush of her body so close, the feeling of her surrounding you. It would be too much for your poor heart, leaving it to beat right out of your chest. You did your best to ignore it as she paid and left your store for the overcast sky outside.

You didn’t see her again for a few weeks after that. The unhelpful voice in the back your head told you it was because she was completely disgusted by you. Between your behaviour and the recommendation you’d given, it wouldn’t have shocked you if you’d driven her from your store entirely. It left you in a funk, one deep enough for your usual customers to take note.

The free teas and baked goods from the Weathervane were appreciated throughout the days as you waited with bated breath to see if she’d come back.

It was on a day, weeks later, the night closing in on you as Halloween approached, once you’d given up all hope on seeing her again that the bell above your door jingled, a cold wind nipping at the heels of your customer. The lamps had been lit, a soft glow giving life to your store against the encroaching darkness. You sighed to yourself, wanting to lock up and wander upstairs, curling under a blanket with a book in hand to forget how quickly you ruined something that had been filled with such hope.

“I was worried you would be closed already.”

That voice, familiar, haunting your dreams, sweet enough to make your heart trip over itself. You spun, almost stumbling over your own feet, desperate to lay eyes on her and make sure it wasn’t an awful hallucination sent to torture you. Larissa stood in front of the counter, her smile slipping as your wide eyes met hers.

“I didn’t think you were coming back,” you said.

“I’ve been… busy,” she replied.

There was a weariness to her you hadn’t seen before, like a weight had settled on her shoulders and she hadn’t yet grown accustomed to it. Your hands pressed into the cool wood of the counter, fingers splayed as you tried to remain cool. And yet your heart was racing.

“Is everything okay?” you asked.

“Yes,” she replied, “just the usual difficulties of being responsible for a school full of teenagers.”

“I don’t know how you do it,” you said.

“With an iron fist.”

Her weary smile lit you up from the inside out. You circled the counter, placing yourself firmly on the same side as her, wanting to be closer. Her eyes followed every step, brightening the closer you drew.

“I was just about to close up,” you said.

She wilted before your very eyes.

“My apologies. I’ll leave,” she said.

“No!” Your voice came out too loud, “I just meant, I could lock up and I could make you some tea. If you wanted. Not that I’m suggesting that that is something you want. But in case it is, I could.”

She chuckled, throaty and low, and a shiver went through your body. Your rambling was hardly the cool suave exterior you’d wanted her to see but you couldn’t help yourself. Around her you seemed to lose all sense of chill and instead turned into a mess of a person.

“I’d love that,” she said.

“Oh.” You perked up, “uh, wait here. I’ll go… close up shop.”

You left her there as you made your way to the front door. Flipping the sign and turning the lock, you looked out on the darkened street. The weather had turned, dark clouds rolling in, covering the moon until there was nothing but darkness pressing in against the window. You shivered, glad you weren’t out in the weather.

She was where you’d left her, inspecting the display of bookmarks you had on the counter. A woman in town made them, beautiful beaded monstrosities to keep your page. Her fingers idly played with one, purple beads contrasting with her pale skin.

“I’ll throw that in for free with your next purchase,” you said, “I have to reward my loyal customers.”

She offered you a small smile, letting the bookmark go.

“That’s very kind of you,” she said.

“Shall we have that tea?”

You led her over to the two armchairs set up for customers to sit in. The antique lamp was on, giving a warm circle of light.

“Um, I’m just going to go boil the water. Do you have a preference on tea type? Peppermint?” you asked.

“Peppermint sounds lovely,” she said.

You took the time for the water to boil in the backroom to try and calm down. It was normal. It was a cup of tea. Nothing to get worked up over. Just the woman you’d been enamoured with taking time out of her day to share a cup of tea with you. There was no need to make it into any more than it was.

You could be cool.

She was sitting in one of the armchairs, elegant in a way you’d never managed. You tried to keep the tremor from your hand as you passed over the cup. Her fingers brushed yours, gloveless again despite the chill of outside. Not that it was cold in your shop. You always made sure it was comfortable inside your four walls.

“What did you think of the book?” you asked as you settled in your own chair, legs curling up underneath you.

“It was certainly an interested read,” she said.

“Did you not like it?” you asked.

She looked at you a moment, those eyes seeing more than you wanted them to. You looked down into your cup, not wanting her to see how much the answer meant to you.

“I did. I found the relationship written between an outcast and a normie fascinating,” she said, slow, careful, as if putting a lot of thought into each word, “but then, I suppose given the time period, a relationship between two women could have been just as shocking.”

“I think it was ahead of its time,” you said.

“What makes you say that?” she asked.

“Because neither of those things matter.”

The way she was looking at you had any more words dying on your lips. It wasn’t that you’d surprised her, more that you’d confirmed something for her. Like you’d shown her a piece of the puzzle she knew you held. Like you were exactly who she thought you were.

“You really believe that, don’t you?” she asked, but you weren’t sure it was actually a question.

“Of course,” you replied.

She nodded, taking a sip from her cup. You followed suit, not sure what to fill the silence with.

“I was curious about your reasoning for suggesting this book to me,” she said when it became clear you had nothing else to say.

“I suppose… I wanted to see your reaction to it,” you admitted.

You looked up at her from under your lowered lashes, hoping to be able to read her expression this time. A look passed over her face, one that spoke of surprise mixed with smugness, not something you were used to seeing.

“I see,” she said.

“Do you?” you asked.

“I think I do,” she replied, “you wanted to see how I’d respond to a sapphic love story between an outcast and a normie.”

A spike of hope went through your heart.

“And how do you respond?” you asked.

“Rather favourably.”

Your fingers convulsively curled around the mug in your hand, the warmth from the ceramic seeping into your bones. Something in her gaze sparked fire in your veins and you felt breathless. She placed her cup down, the noise louder than it shouldn’t have been in the space.

“The first time I walked into this quaint little store, I thought you were the most precious thing in here,” she said, “it’s what kept me coming back. Although, I must say, there is something in the atmosphere of this place that evokes comfort.”

“I thought you were glorious,” you said, not considering the words before they left your lips.

“You did?” Her entire face lit up.

You nodded, teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

Just as she opened her mouth to say something else, a loud bang came from the front of your shop. You jumped, hot liquid spilling over the skin of your hand. You hissed, placing the mug down before you could properly burn yourself.

She was there in an instant, reaching out for your hand, her fingers soft as they brushed over your skin. You tried to suppress a shiver. She tugged on your hand until you’d risen to your feet, hand closer to her face as she bent over it.

“I’m okay,” you said, “it was more the shock than anything else.”

“You’re not hurt?” Those blue eyes were so close.

“No.” You shook your head.

Her hand didn’t leave yours, the feel of her skin against yours making your head hazy. Even from so close up, she was still easily the most beautiful woman you’d seen and you yearned to close the small distance. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip again and you saw her gaze drag down to it. Your breath caught, the moment suspended in time as you waited to see what she would do.

“May I…”

The rest of her question never materialised. She was still watching your mouth and so you made the decision for her. Pushing up onto your tiptoes, your fingers tightening around hers, you pressed your lips to hers. She made a small noise and before you could pull away her other arm had curled around your waist, keeping you close to her.

You moaned into her mouth as she kissed you back more insistently. You curled your arms around her neck, your body flush with hers. The fire in your veins was igniting, lighting you up from the inside, threatening to burn you up. Her tongue swept into your mouth, her hands on your body leaving you a trembling mess.

Her hands found their way under your cardigan, palms warm through the thin material of your shirt. You couldn’t get close enough, wanting to feel every inch of her. She groaned into your mouth when you nipped at her lower lip.

A displease meow broke through the haze as something soft brushed against your ankle. You jerked back before chuckling at the indignant face glaring up at you. Moppet was making her feelings known in the only way she knew how.

“Sorry,” you said to her, “it’s getting close to someone’s dinner time.”

She chuckled and there was a sense of fondness in it that had your heart tripping over itself. Her fingers came up, brushing over the apple of your cheek before giving a soft tug on the end of your hair.

“I think your chaperone has the right idea. It’s gotten later than I intended and I’m sure I’m needed back at Nevermore,” she said.

You didn’t bother to hide your disappointment. She chuckled again, leaning forward to press her lips to yours in a chaste kiss. Her thumb ran along your lower lip, coming away stained red from where her lipstick had smudged against your skin. You nipped at the pad of her thumb as she drew it back, earning another smile from her.

“I’ll walk you out,” you said.

“Such chivalry,” she said and you were beginning to recognise when she was teasing.

You led her mack to the front door, flicking the lock to release her into the wind and the darkness. You wrinkled your nose at the large tree branch that had landed outside your door. She lingered, right on the threshold, and you found yourself gazing upon her.

“Tonight has been lovely,” she said.

“It has,” you agreed.

Her fingers under your chin, lifting for just a moment before she stepped out into the street. Your fingers clutched at the doorframe, knuckles aching with the cold and the tension.

“Wait.” She paused, turning to look at you over her shoulder, “you didn’t get a new book.”

“I suppose I’ll just have to come back tomorrow, then,” she said before striding away into the night.

Moppet meowed by your feet again. You sighed, closing the door and locking it against the encroaching night. Crouching, you lifted her into your arms, giving her a scratch behind the ear.

“I know, Moppet,” you said when she gave another little meow, “I’m so fucked.”

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems imagine

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takes1 · 7 months ago

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p.2 bratty tsukishima x manager!reader enemies to lovers

warnings. nsfw. m!masturbation at the end. midterms mentioned. minors DNI content. misinterpretation of emotions. tsukki not knowing how to handle a crush. enemies to lovers. or maybe enemies with benefits, i haven't decided yet. manager!reader. tsukki being so incredibly horny. tsukki not understanding facial expressions. sexual frustration. male masturbation + implied previous. kiyoko being a friend. yachi being a friend. 1.7k words notes. 3 more parts planned! ask to be added to the taglist if you don't want to miss one! links. PART ONE HERE. PART THREE . PART FOUR. FINAL PART. masterlist for mha. my ao3. masterlist for haikyuu

Despite your iced latte being mostly just water by now, you still sucked it down in desperation to get every ounce of caffeine you could. Midterms were just around the corner and one of your most difficult classes involved writing a 10-page scientific paper.

You had the whole semester to do it, so the dread you felt now was the amalgamation of months' worth of opportunity that you could've and should've used to work on it.

Thankfully, you didn't have to churn the majority of this thing out alone.

"What the hell does ameliorate mean." Kiyoko asked, though her soft frustration was starting to sound more like a statement now.

Yachi took every opportunity she could to stop doing her work, including this one. For her, there was less pressure to do perfectly on her finals since she had another two years to get those top marks.

She scanned her laptop screen for a moment, lips perched on the lid of her strawberry refresher: "Ameliorate means... To... make something bad or unsatisfactory better."

Kiyoko muttered something about how it still didn't make sense. Of course it wouldn't- she was taking an organic chemistry course.

The plan as it stood now was to rot in this spot all day until hunger moved you, so you all made an event out of it by putting on something cute, grabbing some coffees and pastries from a cafe nearby, and settling into this local library.

It wasn't planned, but you all simultaneously chose to wear skirts and cute summer tops. The mutual reaction of humor helped ease the pain of having to study all day. Suffering together was preferable to suffering alone.

The chance finally came again to stretch your legs and find another vaguely relevant reference to add to your bibliography.

With a rewarding, careful stretch, you rose out of your chair and took your time walking up and down the aisles to find something to support the fifth theory you'd written about so far.

Midterms were one stressor, but you weren't afforded the privilege of having tunnel vision over it.

Qualifiers were just around the corner, and you had the Tokyo training camp to prepare a load of equipment and personnel logs for.

As you selected a thick novel from a shelf above your head, you let out a small sigh.

The front matter described a concept you could start to look into and fluff up to your liking for the paper. Your mind fell back to the team, and how you wanted to do well on these exams so you'd have less to worry about going to Tokyo.

The side of your face was growing warm, probably from the East-facing window to your left, so you raised the back of a cold hand to cool yourself down.

You were just deciding to take this book back when, in the process of dropping your hand, you caught a blur of blond hair and glasses in the corner of your eye.

Your stomach jolted, heart starting to race, and an uncontrollable surprise took over your features.

Tsukishima was sitting, leaned over a table on his elbows, his head twisted all the way to the side to look at you over his shoulder.

You quickly looked back to the shelf and sucked in a breath. God, that must've looked so lame- you regretted every millisecond of that reaction and prayed he wouldn't ever bring it up.

He hated you. You didn't want anything to do with him. There was no pleasant exchange to get out of saying hello, or even acknowledging each other. It's not like you were friends.

Why was he even here? You started to get worried, but realized that he did ride the same train back with you after practice in the evenings.

Now you were really remembering. He got off one stop before yours and always moved to create the most space possible between you. You usually didn't see him again until he got off. Even then, you didn't care enough to look for him anymore.

You glanced back to him, expecting to now have to speak to him after you'd exchanged a mutual acknowledgment of each other's presence.

He was staring. But... that wasn't exactly the right word for it.

He was distracted. You wondered if he knew who you were, because you'd never seen him stare at you for more than a few seconds.

His brow wasn't pinched like usual. It was relaxed- in fact, everything about him was relaxed. The way his head was held in his hand, the loose grasp on his pencil, the subtle part of his lips. The lazy, yet measured scan of his eyes.

There was a reddish tint at the tips of his ears and highest points of his cheeks. It was astoundingly easy to notice, since he was so fair-skinned.

A strong chill ran up your spine when he finally made eye contact with you. Even then, it took a glance down to the book clasped against your chest, then back up for him to really notice your gaze and stiffen right up.

That new side of him vanished in an instant. It was replaced with a brief, stone-cold glower before he turned back to his own midterm work.

On the stiff walk back to your table, you smoothed your skirt out and pulled on the edge a bit before sitting back down.

It took a minute of silent sitting to even begin to unpack what you felt.

"Do I look stupid?"

Yachi instantly piped up, "Of course not! You're very pretty!"

"You really shouldn't waste your breath asking," Kiyoko glanced up at you.

It was brief but it rested your immediate insecurities.

"Why?" Yachi, once again, wanted nothing more than to just hang out and talk.

Another surge of chills. It was sickening.

You put your head in your hands, elbows on the table. "Mm-mm, it's just-..." You thought to tell them, but held back at the last second, "I dunno."

Another big sigh and you were back to typing to take your mind off of it. You'd have plenty of time to see what this spun into once you were free from this academic prison. It was too confusing right now.

Kiyoko didn't read into it, but Yachi lingered until 1) it was obvious you simply didn't want to disclose and 2) an abnormally tall boy from school walked past your table. She watched him watch you on his way towards the exit.

Her eyes narrowed with keen intuition.

the keen intuition in question:

Kei felt himself practically melt against the closed door of his bedroom. Breathless from a difficult and quick walk home, he fumbled with the tie of his sweatpants and the lock on the door concurrently.

"Finally," He sighed with a desperate laugh, "Fuck..."

His bag hit the floor with a sharp and careless thump. He stepped over it and fell onto his back on his mattress, a long arm stretched toward his side table for some lotion.

It was useless trying to study after that. Library or home, it didn't matter unless he could fuck this one out.

This time he didn't have to stalk your Instagram to spark his imagination; it was already running rampant with filthy ideas of what he'd do to you in that short skirt.

An ignored, aching erection sprang out of his waistband as he pushed it down and out of the way.

Light grey sweatpants had (for the first time in his life) ended up being a shit idea. All he could worry about on the 20 minute walk back was if anyone could see the tip of his cock tucked up just under his shirt.

Every shirt was too short. Every pair of pants was too big in the middle.

His slippery hand was beautiful relief. He was quick to get himself lubricated, and quicker to pump in slow, twisting motions to the image of you reaching, reaching, reaching up to that book on your tippy toes.

All the worry in his tight brow washed away in crashing waves of steady-growing pleasure.

Soon he didn't care about the harrowing journey home, the threat of midterms, nor the growing dread of that training camp.

It was just you.

It felt like fate that he got the only chance anyone might ever have to see the curve of your ass just under the hem of your skirt. You were able to get that book all too quickly.

If everything were different, he would've gotten it for you. You would've thanked him, kissed him on the cheek- he would've pulled you in for a heated, raunchy kiss with a hand palming you closer. He would've savored the view of you spread on the table for him -homework long forgotten- and his massive hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. It was a library, after all.

He seethed and stalled for a moment--, "a-ahh- Mm..."

His cock twitched hard with the need to cum, but he stopped just soon enough.

An oversized hand was holding the base; he looked at his other dry one, then closed his eyes in an eager but fruitless attempt to visualize just how they'd look on your thighs. Fuck, anywhere at this point.

Just one touch, that's all he wanted. He never let himself get close enough to even consider it, but my god, the internal struggle he made to stay away was commendable.

His tight, lightly sweaty stomach flexed with effort as he slowed down again.

You were so quick to switch up when it came to him. He could tell he had a special place in your heart, the way your lips pursed into a small frown and your eyes narrowed when he tested you.

It was out-of-this-world cute from his vantage point. A smile might just kill him.

"Mmm, fu-ck," He croaked, mind circling back to today.

His chest swelled with a shaky inhale- he smirked at the thought of you finding out about his terrible secret, how you would punish him for his unprofessional behavior. You were so pretty when you got mad.

The breath caught in his throat. He wasn't even thinking about the skirt when he finally came all over his stomach. Just that pretty face of yours did it for him.

taglist:

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14thgalerie · 1 year ago

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path to you

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: war of hearts by ruelle

• word count: 7.3k

• genre: angst, fluff every now and then

— not proofread, i wrote this on a whim the other night and only finished last night.

Theodore Nott stood amidst the crowd of returning students aboard the Hogwarts Express, his heart heavy with a blend of emotions. His eyes were ablaze, lit with determination in search of that one familiar figure with locks he spent nights running his fingers through. However, as the last call to board the train echoed through the station, his hope was diminished when there was still no sign of you.

In truth, he knew it was futile right from the moment the both of you had left Hogwarts. The incident— if that was what he would even call it for that— was the moment that Voldemort had truly begun making his appearance known to the students of Hogwarts.

He was no innocent bystander to this, the mark that burns on his right arm is a constant, painful reminder of that. His father had mercilessly subjected him through the initiation process, appointing him watch of Draco to ensure he would follow the Dark Lord’s order just as others had been compelled to do.

However, in the brief moment that he knew your eyes had latched on to an exposed skin of his sleeved arm, a fear struck him, unlike the familiar one that had long been instilled by his father. He decided that he would rather weather the searing pain that seemed to burn deeper for every day that Dumbledore roamed the grounds than prove he was no trustworthy person to you now. He would ignore the ache that pried into his very soul as you steer a conversation away as he picks you up from your friends.

Despite this, in the dark and dreary summer, he is left terribly alone with only thoughts of you entangled in his mind. The old days of sunshine only remain in memory, as he supposes is a communal thing for all of you as Voldemort continued to infiltrate and pollute the magical world with his influence.

Theodore had written you a myriad of letters over the many days, his heart engraved with every droplet of ink that marks the parchment.

I miss you.

I beg of you to tell me that I’m not as forgettable as your silence otherwise makes me feel.

But every owl that returned carried nothing but itself. No words from you. Not a single one even from your friends, a choice he made in desperation, regardless of the consequences if his father found out he had been in contact with one of you.

He knew that they knew where you were, even if it might not be the entirety of it. If there was one thing he truly regretted before, it would be his cowardice. His fear runs deep in the thick crimson inside of him that dictated his every move. Though he shares a strong companionship with Mattheo and the others, Theo remains in awe of the camaraderie that you have with your friends at this time.

Driven purely by the need to be a catalyst; to make an end of this war.

With the sudden void torn into his at your disappearance, Theo found his heart crystallising once again, trying to preserve what little warmth is left by you.

Praying to a god he doesn’t believe in, begging that there will never come a day that he won’t know your last words.

You exhale slowly.

The morning had barely started, and the sun was still but a ray in the dim sky. You tug the blanket over your face, blinking once, twice. The stream below the knife-like hill they had taken camp in, continued its hum.

It has been roughly three months since the start of the school year started, and four months since you have made the decision to accompany Harry, Hermione, and Ron in the hunt for Horcruxes. Four, lengthy months since you’ve last exchanged words with Theo, afraid that you would let this mission slip, Merlin knows he knows you better than you did.

If circumstances were different and he was not tied by that horrific mark, maybe he would be even with you. But reality is unforgiving and you are left in sorrow for the easy times you’ve taken advantage of.

There were times it felt ghastly to keep certain things to yourself, for so long it had been you and Theo, sharing the deepest truths. Then in a snap of a finger, it seemed most of what came out of you were lies, all in the name of protecting your friends. But it was paramount to be cautious nowadays, even if Theo was careful and dedicated to keeping crucial information, you couldn’t shake off the fear that Voldemort may attempt to pry on his mind.

Harry, with all his strength, is no exception to Voldemort’s manipulation of the mind. What more of Theo?

You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if everything came crumbling down the moment Voldemort sought Theo’s memories.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but feel the urge to apparate for even just a moment. Just a minute. You found it difficult to get rid of the nagging feeling that he now despised you for doing this, for running away and leaving him, despite the promise you made only a year ago. It was a constant tug-of-war of the heart and the mind, most days leaving you drained in addition to the physical exhaustion.

I miss you.

I hate this uncertain silence that does nothing but bring you forth.

“Y/N? Are you awake?” You hear a voice call out.

You snap yourself out of your thought

“What time is it?” You mumble. Hermione’s sharp ears are used to your morning voice by now. “It’s already 8 in the morning, Y/N. Get up.”

“Goddess!” You shot up, “Why didn’t you wake me up earlier, my shift was supposed to be an hour ago.”

With one less person in your team, as Ron left in his fury, the rest of you had to take shorter rests now.

“It’s fine, I couldn’t sleep anyway,” Hermione reassures her. You stand and make your way down to the table where a cup of steaming tea is left for you. “Are you alright?” You ask.

She merely hums in question but makes no indication that she will answer. Instead, she walks out of the tent to sit on one of the rocks nearby.

“He will be fine, mione.” You say, following her. “Ron has been through so much in the past, I think by this time, he would be able to get by on his own.”

You pull her into a side embrace, holding her close without saying anything as she rests limply underneath your arm. She needed it. Sacrificing the risk of her parents forever forgetting that Hermione was their daughter had taken a heavy toll on your friend. Leaving them in the house she deemed her sanctuary from the destruction, the madness that reigned outside.

With Ron having left the three of you. Although you weren’t as close with the redhead, you knew he had been Hermione’s shoulder— ever since forever. You understood how she felt or even a spectre of it, for you, too, had left someone behind.

Someone that you could only beg the gods remains breathing and unsullied by the encroaching darkness that seemed to follow him.

“And what about you?” Hermione whispered softly, the tears that lined her cheeks dry now. “What do you mean?”

“Nott.” Hearing the name instantly formed a small, melancholic smile on your face.

“I’m your best friend, Y/N. You can stop pretending to be the shield for us now, Harry and I will be here for you. You can cry.”

Your gaze remains fixed on the sight before you. Atop the hill, the pale gold ball of sunlight emerges and bathes the cold stone in warmth. Reminiscent of the days before the Triwizard Cup, before Cedric died. It all seemed so far away now.

“I’ve exhausted all the tears from me already, Hermione. I miss him terribly. I may just crumble beneath his feet the very moment that I see him again.”

“It’s difficult what you had to do. I can’t even begin to decipher it. The both of you had consistently defied, and will likely continue to do so, every misconception that the others had of you back when you were still friends."

“I hate how there was not a scintilla of hesitation and doubt in me when I had to keep so many things from him when I had to lie to him.” You croak out, voice barely above a whisper.

“You did so because you knew that in the end, it wasn't just for the best of the wizarding world that you deliberately did all of that, it’s all for him. You did it because you wanted to keep him safe from that vile, bald head.”

You nod. It's true. Ever since you found out about the abuse that Theo’s father inflicted upon him, you knew that there would come a day when he would pay the price for it. Knowing that he couldn’t escape him before he turned 17, the only solace you can provide is your unwavering companion.

It only weighed on you heavily that Theo would have to endure it all alone again so that you could work to permanently sever the ties between him and his malevolent father..

“We’re kids.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over, and you clenched your fists in frustration. At Voldemort, at Theo’s father, at your parents who left you all alone, at the lost innocence of your childhood.

“We’re supposed to be ripping our hair off for NEWTS, preparing for life after we leave Hogwarts, dancing and drinking our teenage years away. Why did we have to make all these choices? The storybooks on my shelf speak nothing of this.”

Then, her gaze unwavering firmly set on you as she sat up straight. “We’re doing this so that Voldemort, or any wizard that dares follow his steps, may never inflict the kind of pain on anyone else, the way he did to us and our parents.”

Heart heavy with foreboding and unease, Theodore stands among the students of Hogwarts in the dimly lit Great Hall. The room, devoid of its warm glow and chatter, was bathed in eerie silence where Snape, now the headmaster of Hogwarts, had summoned every student. From the tense shoulders of the man, Theo could only surmise that it was something important. It was rare to see Snape truly bothered.

“Many of you are surely wondering why I have summoned you here at this hour. It came to my attention that earlier this evening... Harry Potter was sighted in Hogsmeade.”

A murmured thrill fills the Hall. Theodore’s eyes widened, as he waited for a sign. If Harry Potter was nearby, it could only mean that you were too.

Snape continues, raising his voice a tad bit to quell the noise. “Should anyone — student or staff — attempt to aid Mr. Potter, that person will be punished in a manner consistent with the severity of their transgression. Rest assured: So long as I am Headmaster at Hogwarts, Harry Potter will never again step foot in this castle.”

Theo only hears the latter of what he said, mind distracted by the idea that you could be in the castle. His feet itched to run out and find you himself. Not an ounce of care for what the man in front is saying.

“Now then. If anyone here has knowledge of Mr. Potter’s movements this evening... I invite them to step forward now.”

However, the sound of footsteps catches his attention in the dead silence, and the younger Slytherin students near him exchange glances with each other. Then a figure appears from the shadows at the back of the hall. Someone that brought forth a sigh of a blend of relief and disbelief from Theo. An action that the younger him would probably scoff at.

“I think I can help you out with that…” Harry exclaims, “It appears that, even with all your thorough defensive measures, you might have a security problem, Headmaster”

The students all stare in utter perplexity, each wondering when and how the bespectacled boy had entered the castle. A vacuous question really for Harry has proven countless times that he is, in several ways, a gifted person who is filled with more courage and resolve than anyone in this room. Even Theodore, who’s good friends with Draco, can admit that fact.

The sight of Harry struck a spark of hope in a place that had grown increasingly bleak since the death of Dumbledore— Diggory’s death if you will. But the spectacle wasn’t yet done there when the doors of the Great Hall swung open, revealing the members of the Order. Their arrival further sets a ripple among the unexpecting students, though from the looks of Harry’s friends, it seems that they were the ones to aid them.

His gaze shifts to watch as one by one, they line up in a defensive pose behind Harry. He Recognizing a few familiar faces like the Weasleys, Hermione, Lovegood, Professor Lupin, Fleaur from Beauxbatons, and even some members of the Ministry.

“How dare you stand where he stood.“ Harry shouts. “Tell them the truth of that night’”

Theodore’s breath catches in his throat. The air becomes suffocating at the reminder of those times, days that still hunt him and the others. He takes slow inhales and exhales to calm himself, knowing that now is not the right time and place.

Snape with his eyes like shards of ice, faced Harry Potter. Theodore watches as he moves as if to retrieve his wand, but before he can do so, McGonagall comes forward and sends a blast in Snape’s direction. Snape pivots and barely rebounds the spell in defence,

Chaos ensues as the rest of the staff leaps forward with their wands out. A short but intense exchange erupted in the middle of the room, making the students shuffle to the side to avoid being hit by the spells and curses that flashed through the air like crackling lightning.

Snape, ever the formidable wizard despite his attitude, held his ground with a stoic determination. But Theo couldn’t help but notice how his old professor merely deflected the curses thrown upon him and never cast his own. It piqued his curiosity knowing that he was a master of the dark arts, prominent in the way lectures were replaced by dark arts in his headship.

In the end, Snape yielded, a moment that sent shockwaves to many.

“A coward, that man.” Professor McGonagall proclaims, before turning to Harry. “Mr. Potter, do you mind telling me what you’re doing here, which, I trust you realise, is an act of complete lunacy?”

Harry replies by simply telling her that he is a Gryffindor which comes to no surprise to the woman. McGonagall then turns to the rest of the students, calling them to settle down after the whole debacle.

Just then, Harry suddenly winces, pressing his palms to his temple, before a rumble rings throughout the Hall. A dark cloud swarming in the Enchanted Ceiling, imminent that the beginning of the war will begin any time now. It is the screams and face of pain that confirms it.

A familiar voice to Theodore sounds off in a deathly whisper in his head. And by the looks of everyone, it was the same for them.

“I know that many of you want to fight. Some of you may even think this is wise. But this is folly. Give me Harry Potter. Do this and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded.“

With that, the whispers recede followed by the dark clouds evaporating into thin air. For a moment, silence ensues. Pansy’s screechy voice scratches in his right ear from where she stands beside him.

“Harry’s right there! Somebody grab him!” Yet nobody gives her a second thought. Everyone’s attention shifts instead to Filch who loudly enters through the Hall, screaming that everyone’s out of bed. The man made Theo chuckle inwardly, making a tiny smirk form on his lips.

“They are supposed to be out of bed, you blithering idiot!” McGonagall tells him off. “Oh right, sorry.”

“Now, as you’re already here, I’d like you to lead the rest of Slytherin House from the Hall to the dungeons.” She adds on before Filch can leave.

Theodore’s thoughts returned, as they always did in the past months, to the one question that haunts the very corners of his mind: Where are you? In this whole happening, his eyes had been moving back and forth towards the group that stood near the large double doors. Trying to catch a glimpse of you in between the still figures. But as you had tortured him, you were still nowhere to be seen and he began to question if you had truly disappeared and left him questions unanswered.

As they were being ushered out of the Hall, he, like many others, was vacillating between insisting upon fighting for Hogwarts or to keep their loyalty to their Slytherin roots. But really, the prevailing choice for him is neither of those. He desperately wants to run towards Hermione and just ask her of your whereabouts.

But before he could approach a decision, Hermione made it for him. He jolts when a hand grasps his forearm, taking him by surprise.

“Nott.” Hermione begins before he cuts her off. “Where is she?”

It must’ve come off louder than he intended to from the way she jumped and the stares from the clutter of students from all directions. But he couldn’t care less, and it seemed that the girl in front of him had just now remembered when he didn't offer an apology.

“Well, it’s nice to see you’re not much different.” She sarcastically says. “Granger. Hermione. I frankly don’t have the time for this and I doubt that you do too, so I beg you to answer me now.”

Theodore’s impatience taking over him, he could not endure another moment without having you within his sight. It was a bit of an uncharacteristic burst of urgency for him and he knew it, but you were different. You, who holds all of his vulnerable entirety in your hands.

“She’s somewhere in the castle, searching for one of the remaining Horcruxes in the castle,” Hermione explains. “Y/N had suggested that we split and she began the search while we had to ward off Snape. We will be doing the same thing now, so if you have any idea of Ravenclaw’s lost diadem location, then that’s where you’ll find her.”

With a simple nod and a meek expression of gratitude, he runs off to a place where he begs must hold such a priceless object. It would be somewhere close by but nowhere that it can be easily found.

In the corner of his eyes, Theo caught a glimpse of Harry sprinting towards a distant hallway before rounding a corner. Knowing that by now he must have an idea of where it is, Theo makes a sprint for it. He cautiously peers around the hallway where he sees a door materialising in front of Harry.

Before he can approach Harry to accompany him inside the Room of Requirement, he sees the unmistakable form of his two friends, Draco and Blaise, along with Goyle, discreetly following Harry inside. He muttered frustrated curses under his breath, knowing that those three would make trouble.

He enters through the door, where he makes a dash along the stockpile of objects that seemingly never seems to lessen with every step he takes. A sigh of relief escaped his lips, but still a lingering tension persisted, as he saw Harry’s figure running.

“Potter!” He calls out to the boy, casting aside any lingering apprehension he once held for the boy. “Did you find it?”

Harry halts in his run, taking a moment to catch his breath before responding to Theo. In truth, he wasn’t surprised that Theo was here with him, but rather, more so that you weren’t the object of his first question to him.

“I think so, the sound keeps getting louder.” He answers.

“It should be somewhere near now.” He continues. “Let’s go then.”

Theo quietly takes his place beside Harry as they weave their way through the maze of ancient objects and furniture. They continue until Harry stops, causing Theo to freeze in his step.

There you stood, a presence that seemed to penetrate his very being. The only person who plagued his thoughts, you had woven yourself into every conscious moment and every corner of his mind.

Now that you were a mere five steps away from him, he couldn’t conjure the nerve to move forward, feeling himself paralyzed.

Was it the fear that held him back? The nagging thought that this might be just another dream of his? He couldn’t grapple at an answer, but by the length of your hair that now sits at your shoulders, he would like to believe that maybe this was indeed you. This was you, and before he realised it, he was all but standing still.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips as you nearly lose your footing, feeling a heavy weight press to your back. The sensation of those familiar long arms enveloping you in a tight embrace sent your heart racing, the shock of it sending a rush of emotions through you.

For a fleeting moment, it felt that your body had become one with the ground, immobilised by the torrent of emotions surging through you. But then when the realisation finally sinks into you, the tension that seemed to course through you suddenly dissolves and you willingly surrender yourself to the warmth of his embrace.

You turn, your hands tracing a graceful path across his back. It had been far too long, and you couldn’t imagine being apart from him for such an extended period ever again.

The background fades into obscurity. Harry was forgotten, a distant blur that moved with the others. Your eyes filled with relief and that soft, affectionate expression that he adored. All he could see was you, the person he had yearned for and feared losing in the world you both live in.

Theo’s defences crumbled, and he finally surrendered to the weight of his emotions. He couldn’t find a part of him that would care if others saw him right now. Tears flowed freely down his flushed cheeks, like a torrential downpour.

“I’m here. Theo, I’m back with you.” Your arms held him, gently rocking him as you tried to soothe his nerves.

“Never leave me alone again.” He choked on the words, his voice raw and rugged with pain. “I beg you.”

“I won’t be going anywhere, I promise. I’m sorry for having to leave so suddenly.” You whispered, your voice filled with genuine remorse. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of movement behind some cabinets— a flash of white.

“But we’ll have to talk later.” You continued, turning your focus back to Theo. “We need to get rid of this Horcrux.”

“Horcrux?” He asks, pulling back from the crook of your neck. “Hermione mentioned that when I asked about you.”

“It’s one of the many things that Voldemort has done to ensure his immortality.” You explained, your tone carrying a sense of urgency. “But if we get rid of it, we’re one step closer to finally banishing him for good.”

He opens his mouth to say something but before he can, he is interrupted by Draco, with Blaise and Goyle, stepping into view. “Well, well, what brings you here, Potter? And Theo, what are you doing with them?”

Your gaze shifts back at Harry who had only realised that you had some other company. “I could ask you the same.” You retort.

Theo, however, pays his friend no mind. Instead, he leans to your ear, his voice a hushed whisper. “We should get that thing while Draco is still preoccupied with Harry.”

You could make a run for it; it seemed that Draco didn’t care for your purpose inside the room. Rather busy demanding your friend for his wand back, the very one you had accidentally brought back with you from the Malfoy Manor.

“- its allegiance is to me now. If you want it, you’ll have to win it back. Perhaps even kill me…” You hear Harry proclaim. You silently curse your friend for his recklessness, tired of his cavalier attitude with his life simply because he’s braved the risk of death before. You kept your eyes trained on Draco, knowing that despite his hesitation before, he might act on it now.

His wand hand twitches.

Brow conflicted.

Uneasy eyes settling somewhere behind you. You look behind to see a silhouette of a girl with a wand pointed in your direction, before you can see who it is, a ball of scarlet light emerges and briefly lights up her face and hits Draco’s hand.

“Avada Kedavra!” You were pulled back by Theo, landing on the ground with his body catching the fall. You watch as the spell ricochets and sends the diadem, which was sitting peacefully in its encasement on the table, flying away.

You spring to your feet, a burst of adrenaline propelling you forward to catch the item before it vanishes on you in this labyrinth. Your hand barely grazed the edge of the jewelled headband and with a quick nod to Harry and Hermione a nod to escape this room. Meanwhile, you’re confused as to where Ron had disappeared off to.

The red-head gives you your answer when he comes running from somewhere followed by a twisting serpent made of scarlet flames. “Run! Goyle’s set the bloody place on fire!”

With your right hand clutching the crown, you secure a firm grip on Theo’s hand, which rests lightly on your waist. The five of you dash through the towering heaps of debris that would likely be a pile of smouldering ashes and soot. A quick glance behind you reveals flames that draw closer, mutating into different forms: serpents, dragons, and the like, each following you so closely that sweat beads form on the nape of your neck.

“Keep running!” Harry shouts when Hermione sees Draco scaling a mountain of furniture. You were still running for your life when suddenly Harry spots a stack of broomsticks. TO which you all took one and began to speed across the room.

The flames explode behind you, You and Theo, who decided to share, barely elude the snap of its jaw.

“Wait! What about Malfoy and Blaise!” Harry screams at the rest of you, your head turns to look back at the two who are barely hanging on as the flames continue to destroy the room. It was only a matter of time before it reached them and they would have nowhere to go.

“You grab them!” Theo replied, his voice scratchy and painful from the amount of smoke you’ve inhaled.

“Are you serious? He’s joking right?” Ron asks Hermione, to which you instead reply. “No, he’s not! Go get them!”

Harry and Ron sweeps down, swiftly reaching out to grasp Draco and Blaise’s outstretched hands. While you, Theo, and Hermione went ahead as a giant beam of light appeared in the distance, a radiating beacon. It’s Hermione, hovering on her broom with her wand raised.

Then, with Harry and Ron in tow, you all fly headlong towards Hermione’s beacon. And in an instant, your sight dissolved into a blinding whiteness.

Your eyes flutter open, your senses returning to you in a hazy rush. You felt someone shaking you furiously, and in your disoriented state, you instinctively pushed them away. But arms instead wrapped around you and pulled you into a warm chest.

“You’re fine!” The person evidently shakes in relief, before you feel a gentle bush of lips against your temple.

Blinking away the remnants of confusion, you look up to see Theo’s striking blue eyes already intently focused on you., striking a shiver across your spine “You couldn’t get rid of me that easily.” You joked weakly, a tiny smile on your face.

Theo’s expression softened, and he tightened his hold on you as if he was afraid that you might disappear again. “I thought I lost you there,” He tells you, voice barely above a whisper. “When I saw you just lying there, unmoving… I was utterly terrified.”

You reach up and gently cup his cheek, wiping away the dark ash that sullied it with your thumb. “Like I said, love, I’m not going anywhere,” Your voice filled with reassurance, and you sit properly to kiss him softly, sealing your promise in that tender moment.

But as with everything else, it was interrupted by an awkward cough behind you.

“You guys done there? We still have some things to do?” Ron retorts. To which Hermione slaps him in the chest.

You laugh and hum in tease. “Well, actually I think we could do with some more snogging here.” Ron merely groans. “No, please. I don’t wanna see that.”

The both of you stand from where you sit, your hands still entwined, hearts racing. “Where’s Draco and Blaise, by the way?” You ask Theo. “They ran off somewhere.”

As they all stepped out of the corridor, they caught you up on what happened while you were unconscious. Harry had stabbed the diadem with a basilisk fang which Ron and Hermione retrieved from the Chamber and threw it back towards the Room of Requirement where it blew up into flames.

You look at Harry who was staring into the distance, his face still bearing the trace of the agony he must’ve endured when he stabbed the diadem.

“It’s the snake. She’s the last one. The last Horcrux.” Harry speaks up.

“Where do you think he’ll take it?” Theo asks from beside you. “Somewhere safe. He’ll be keeping her close to him.”

“You should go ahead, Theo and I will stay here to help with the others.” You tell your friends, while Harry tries to locate Voldemort with his mind.

“I know where he is.” He finally comes back. “Let’s go.”

“The three of you keep safe alright?” You remind them as you all run towards the battlefield, where many of your friends stand fighting. They nod, promising you that they will and in return make you and Theo swear you’ll be careful.

In the courtyard, where students and staff trade spells with the Death Eaters that littered across the school grounds, you quickly join them, making sure that you are in sight of the other. The unspoken promise to do so served as a beacon of comfort amidst the chaos you were faced with.

From the upper balcony, your eyes scanned the battlefield, assessing the danger that lurked when you saw a Death Eater poised to send a curse to Luna from behind. Without a second thought, you unleashed a forceful flick of your wand, sending a powerful spell toward the Death Eater which sent him tumbling through the air and straight to the waters beyond the castle.

Luna, whose signature dream-like demeanour was replaced by an expression of gratitude, turns and locks eyes with you. She offered you one of her wide smiles, “Thanks! Y/n, glad to see you back here!”

Your heart swelled with warmth for your friend. “Don’t mention it, happy to see you also, Luna.” You quickly reply before returning to battle when you are hit by a deafening blast straight on the chest. You were raised to the air before you crashed into the floor below.

Theodore Nott fought valiantly in the courtyard, proving to the others that the dark mark that covered his right arm bore no significance to the man. His wand moved in a blur of motion in the onslaught of Death Eater. His thoughts were empty save for the ever-present worry that plagued him for your safety.

From his vantage point on the ground level, he does a quick scan of the courtyard, his heart pounding in his chest. The grisly sight of students and friends, along with the staff all stood their ground against the dark forces that dared penetrate their home. It filled him with a mixture of pride and fear.

And then, his eyes flicked onto a scene that made his heart skip a beat. From the upper balcony, he sees you with your wand in hand and your expression resolute as you defend Luna, a dear friend of yours. It filled him with a warm emotion at the sight of your strong determination to protect her.

But then in a blink of an eye, disaster struck. A blast struck you square in the chest, lifting you off your feet in shock and sending you crashing down. Theo’s heart which skipped a beat earlier had now wholly stopped, his blood turning to ice as he watched in horror.

With everything in him, he surges forward through the chaos to catch you before you fall down. But as he was still many steps away from you, you dropped full force into the stone ground. Panic fueled his every step as he ran towards your motionless form now with even more speed than he ever thought a human possibly could.

He feels his gut twinge at the bloody sight, a sickly feeling developing in the deep recesses of his body, the wand heavy in his hands then. His lips bore no sound as tried to call your name, his heart was twisted in his throat.

He knelt beside you, pulling you into his lap and checking you for your injuries. To his relief, your breathing was still steady for what had just happened to you and you didn’t seem to take any damage to the head, Still, he carried your disoriented body in his arms bridal style.

As he began to stand, his eyes went back to where you had previously been, searching for the source of the blast that struck you down. And then, with a shock that sent chills down his spine, he sees a familiar old face.

His father.

He sets you down somewhere safe inside the castle, without taking his sight away from his father. By the time he returns back to where you both were, his father is now advancing towards him with a sinister, triumphant grin on his face. It was a face that had been both a source of fear and disappointment throughout his life.

The face that caused his mother’s death.

“Father,” Theodore muttered, his voice laced with a blend of anger, disbelief, and a profound sense of betrayal. That despite all he’s done for him, his father still stood there with not an ounce of recognition that he was faced with his son. It was as if he had truly sunk to the depths of his loyalty to Voldemort and there was no other obligation for him except for his unwavering loyalty.

Their eyes were locked in a moment of tense, silent confrontation. He knew that this battle was only physical but also a battle of his loyalties. He had to protect you, he had to stand against his father, and he had to make a choice that would define the course of his life.

With the courtyard around them paying no specific attention to the father and son, it was only fair to say that everything else faded into the background for them too. Father and son. Standing on opposing sides, driven by their own convictions and beliefs, the younger no longer waited.

He was no, father, not in the true sense of the word. He was merely a shadow of a man, a heartless figure who stood there—grinning as if he had just claimed the grand prize in this twisted lottery.

In that moment, he had not only attacked the one person who held his son’s heart after he took away the other one but he had also torn away the last remaining fragments of the bond that tied the two of them.

His father had no time to react when Theodore raised his wand in a swift manner, hurling him violently to the cold, unforgiving wall across the castle. He rained down curses after cruses upon his father’s assailable body, each blow driven by a potent combination of anger and a fierce desire to defend.

“Stay” He seethed, punctuating his rage with a curse. “Away” Another spell. “From” The onslaught of his attack never ceased despite the dawn that slowly began to fade into view. “Her!” Each word carried the weight of an entire lifetime’s amount of hurt as Theo relentlessly battered his father until he was left into nothing but a fraction of what he used to be.

His eyes are glazed and unfocused as he continues this torture until he comes to a grip on reality when strong arms pull him away. It takes him a moment to realise that the battle has ceased.

The two people behind him dragged him away, from his father's still body. But still, his eyes remained locked onto him, unable to shift it away. The cold fire in him terrified the others that they had passed. They whispered that nothing could compare to the kind of fury and destruction that he was sure to rain upon his enemies.

“Wake up, Y/N. Please.” Theo’s voice quivered, his words trembling on the precipice of his emotions. His eyes, blurred by the veil of his tears, bore a weight drastically different than it did only hours ago.

Eyes that failed to veil the inner turmoil that plagued him. The entire battle against Voldemort had taken its toll on both of them, leaving them stranded from each other for nearly half a year, but seeing you this way…

He watched from a chair beside you as the healers worked diligently, silently begging them to look at you again, despite numerous assurances that you are now stable. His fingers unconsciously flexed at his sides, a manifestation of the anxiety that controls him.

The fear of losing you, the anger towards his father, the overwhelming relief that you are alive– it all left him in a state of disconcerting.

As he waits for you to wake, he couldn’t help but reminisce on all that the both of you had been through. The trials, the secrets, the moments of love and laughter everywhere and anywhere. You were not just some person he loved; you were his best friend, his reason.

His eyes welled up with tears, and he wiped them away hastily. He needs to be strong for both of you, just as you will in your state of unconsciousness. He knew that your love had emerged stronger than ever in this crucible of war. So he made a silent promise to himself that he would do whatever it takes to take you away from any danger that dares creep upon you.

Finally, as if an eternity had passed, your voice broke through the silence. He jumps up in shock at the sound. You had slowly begun to stir in your makeshift bed in the Great Hall, your eyelids fluttering as you emerged from the depths of unconsciousness. The world felt hazy at first. But as your senses gradually returned, you became aware of the hustle and bustle of the people around you and you tried to call attention.

Theo sees that you were trying to say something but from the scratchy tone that instead came out, you were in need of some water so he ran to the nearest jug he found and helped you sit up so you could properly drink.

Then, as your vision cleared, you saw Theo sitting by your bedside and that he was the one that quenched the dryness that lined your throat., his eyes locked onto hers with a mixture of relief and worry.

His face broke into a gentle smile as he saw you recognize him. “Y/N” He whispered, his voice cracking as he began to cry once more. “You’re awake, you’re back. Thank Merlin!”

You manage a weak smile in return, your throat still dry and your body aching from the attack on you. You tried to speak, but your voice came out raspy. “Theo.”

Theo reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from the side of your face, his touch gentle as ever. “You’re going to be okay.” He says, but it was more like he was also trying to convince himself. “You had me worried there for a while. I am this close to tying you up in a chair because you have caused me nothing but stress lately.”

As the both of you lay on the bed after you guilted him into laying beside you, your memories of the battle and the moments leading up to your injury slowly came back. You remembered Luna, the chaos, and the deafening blast that nearly took you away. But most of all, you remember the face of the person who did this to you.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to hold his hand, your fingers entwined in a silent, unspoken connection. “You must have been like a hero back there, then?” You gently try to ask him.

“More like a monster.” He mutters, unable to bring his eyes to you. The truth is he felt horrible after he finally calmed down. He was disgusted with himself and how he acted. He let his rage take control and acted like a monster. “What do you mean?”

“I was just like him, leaving him unable to fight back like he did to Mom and I back then. I just fired curses and curses at him. It was like a veil had draped over me and all I wanted was to protect you and destroy anything and anyone that dared harm you. ”

You call his name. But he doesn’t respond and continues to stare off into the distance with a glazed-over expression. You reach out to cup his cheeks to pull his gaze towards you. “Theodore, look at me.”

He hums, now staring at you but still he can’t hide the tumultuous emotions that were a storm inside him. “You are not like your father, Theo.” You said softly. “Just from what you told me, you are a gazillion ways different from him. You didn’t cower behind the fear he caused you. Instead, you faced him head on, and defended not only me but also your mother from his cruelty.”

Theo looks at you, his eyes searching yours for affirmation. “How?” He meekly asks.

“You took away the power that he boasts to have over you. '' You replied. Tone unwavering. “You showed him that you will never, ever, become anything like he is."

Your words hung in the air, a testament to Theo’s strength. At that moment, he realised that he had broken free from the shadows of his father’s influence and that he had chosen a different path. A path that is defined by love, courage, and a refusal to be controlled by his fear.

“I’m here because of you. I strived each day so that I could go back to you.” You whispered, your gaze never leaving Theo’s. “And I'm not going anywhere.”

Theo’s eyes shimmered with tears as he leaned in to gently kiss your forehead. “I love you.” He murmured, “I am in love with you, physically, rhetorically, every -ly.”

You laugh at his cheekiness, “I love you too.” You close your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to drown in the wave of his love that washed over you. Giving his hands a squeeze as you raise them to lay a kiss upon the back of his hand.

In that Great Hall, amidst the scars of battle and the uncertainty of the future, they had found something precious in the very same place where two 11-year-old kids once locked eyes and found a connection.

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