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comphy-and-cozy · 9 months

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Every Summer Has a Story - Andrei Svechnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x Reader (f)

Summary: When you find yourself on vacation with an ex-fling that barely had time to get off the ground before disaster struck, you might find you're in more than you bargained for. An exes/enemies to lovers (ish) fic.

Word Count: 11.5K

Author's Notes: Written for @yuukiyu for @wyattjohnston's Summer Fic Exchange! I had a blast writing this and really channeling my own version of a Tessa Bailey-esque romance novel. S/O to @smileysvech for helping to brainstorm and to @cellythefloshie for beta'ing! Love and appreciate you both so much. Enjoy!

Warnings: Language, alcohol use/mention, smut (18+ ONLY), oral sex (f receiving), angst, fluff, there's only one bed!, wingman!Marty, shit communication skills, scruffy and sweet Andrei.

NHL Masterlist / Moodboard

Red pinpricks shone in the dark, glaring in the silence: 2:49am. The house was quiet, all its inhabitants sound asleep, dreaming peacefully. Except for you.

With a huff, you cast a glance at the figure on the other side of the bed, mustering the dirtiest glare you could as you heaved the blankets back in your direction, a task that proved impossible due to the death grip your bedmate had on the sheets.

Six months ago, if you’d have told yourself that you’d be in bed with Andrei Svechnikov and hating it, you would’ve laughed until you cried. But unfortunately, you weren’t laughing. Instead, you were left wondering how the hell you ended up in this situation and asking the higher powers what you did to deserve this special form of hell.

As you contemplated your predicament, your mind wandered back to the beginning of the Russian’s saga, thinking back to the first time you heard his name.

“I wasn’t aware this was going to be an ambush.”

Guilt washed over Marty’s face, while Nykki just burst into laughter. “It’s not an ambush, you drama queen. It’s an opportunity.”

“An opportunity? You mean an opportunity to get my heart crushed by some playboy millionaire jock—no offense, Marty—when he inevitably sends the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ text three months down the road?”

Nykki scoffed, while Marty raised his eyes in surprise, an amused smile curling at his lips.

“Come on, you know I have a point!” you said, waving your hands emphatically. “Tell me I’m wrong. Go on, tell me that 98% of hockey players aren’t trash human beings.”

Opening her mouth to argue, Nykki paused, then sat back to look at her boyfriend, who thought through his words carefully.

“There are a lot of bad eggs,” he said, “some of them my own teammates.”

Your eyebrows raised, hand outstretched as if to say, ‘I told you so.’ But then Marty continued.

“But not Andrei Svechnikov.”

Admittedly, when Nykki invited you over with the promise of a ‘proposition,’ you had an inkling that it would involve some devious scheme to get you on a double date with one of Marty’s teammates. The excitement in her eye when you were at her apartment for a girl’s night—a bottle of Cabernet deep, wistfully imagining having a close friend in her journey as the girlfriend of a professional athlete—was a little too earnest to be just a passing fantasy.

“He’s a really nice guy. He’s so genuine… and kind. I really think he’d be good for you.”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you opt to play nice for a moment. “And why is that, Nečas?”

“Because even though he’s a ‘playboy’,” he exaggerated the air quotes with his fingers, “he came from nothing, so he knows the value of appreciating what he has and what he’s worked for. He’s the hardest working guy I know, without question.”

“I don’t know how to explain it, but I just know he’d be the sweetest boyfriend,” Nykki chimed in, ignoring the glare you sent in her direction, irritated that she was teaming up against you. “He’s so sweet to everyone. He just hasn’t found the right person yet.”

“Maybe that’s because he’s busy sticking his dick in everything that walks,” you said sarcastically.

“The guy’s 22 years old,” Marty said, and although your mouth was already open to retort, you fell silent. “And he’s making more money than he ever dreamt about as a kid. He’s young, single, and successful—of course he’s having a good time. That doesn’t mean he’s always going to be that way.”

Though begrudgingly, you had to admit that Marty struck a chord. You couldn’t fault the guy for having fun while he was young; it was what you’d do if you were in his shoes, too.

So, though you were still not fully convinced, you earned a squeal from Nykki when you agreed to a double date with Andrei: bowling and drinks. He was every bit as charming and kind as Marty promised, flashing his knee-weakening dimple at you every time he threw his ball with effortless ease.

The second date followed shortly thereafter—rock climbing followed by ice cream. If he was nervous, you couldn’t tell; instead, he exuded a confidence that was close enough to cocky without crossing the line, and it suited him. The heated kiss in front of your apartment door was nice, too, bidding you a farewell that tempted you to drag him inside your bedroom and fuck him six ways to Sunday.

With a grunt from the man next to you, your memory replay vanished. Six months later, you couldn’t believe you’d ended up here, sleeping beside a man you once thought you might like to sleep beside for the rest of your life. Only this time, it wasn’t by choice, and you weren’t happy about it.

The trip was a farewell of sorts, to the season behind them and, briefly, to each other before everyone parted ways for the summer. Andrei and Pyotr were heading back to Russia for awhile, Marty to Czechia, and Jesse to Finland. Being the only non-NHL affiliated member of the party, you were the only one for whom this was a ‘normal’ vacation, and you’d report back in Raleigh at the end of the week.

When Nykki extended the invite to you, you accepted under the terms that you wouldn’t have to spend much alone time with Andrei, but you did have to be cordial. Terms that you didn’t have a problem with, though the prospect of being on a trip with several other couples leaving you and Andrei the only single members of the group felt a little bit like a trap.

But, Nykki reassured you, showing you the Airbnb listing that had a bed for each of you. Well, one was an air mattress, but you were more than happy to accept that as opposed to the alternative.

It was all set, and you were actually looking forward to a week in the sun with your friends. The Airbnb was just as advertised: clean, well-decorated, and huge. Each couple had their own room, and there were so many bathrooms everyone pretty much got their own, something you were grateful for to have a little privacy.

You tucked your bag into the office despite Andrei’s insistence that he’d be happy to take the air mattress and let you have the remaining bedroom. Remembering your promise to Nykki, you threw a smile on your face and assured him that it was fine. He lingered in the doorway, and you imagined that he was probably teetering between wanting to push back and not wanting to argue less than 30 minutes after arriving.

However, as you began to attempt to push the heavy desk closer to the corner to create more room for the air mattress, Andrei didn’t take no for an answer as he walked up beside you and moved it with ease.

“Thank you,” you said, biting back the sassy remark you wanted to make about being able to handle it yourself.

He waved it off with a small smile, exiting the room to leave you to settle in.

It was all going swimmingly. Until it wasn’t.

After laying out the air mattress and plugging it into the wall, you discovered a hole in it, making it impossible to blow up or stay inflated.

Nykki wandered in after hearing you cursing, quickly assessing the situation. She helped you search for something—anything—to attempt to patch the hole, but even after slapping a thick stripe of duct tape over the hole, it wouldn’t stay inflated for more than 20 minutes.

“You can stay with me. Marty—he can sleep on the couch,” she offered, though you could see in her eyes that making her boyfriend sleep on the couch wasn’t the ideal situation for her vacation that she’d been the primary planner for.

“No, Nykki, I can’t make him do that,” you shook your head. “I’ll be fine on the couch.”

The only problem with the couch was that while there were a few, they were all in the middle of the living room, allowing minimal privacy as well as blasting you with light as soon as the sun rose daily. It wasn’t ideal, but you’d slept in far worse conditions.

“You can share my bed with me.”

The deep voice surprised you, but not as much as seeing Andrei standing in the doorway, eyes watching the sadly deflating air mattress on the floor. Nykki’s eyes widened, glancing back toward you.

“No, Andrei, it’s fine. I’ll take the couch.”

“It’s a King bed. There’s way too much room for just me. You won’t even know I’m there.”

“That’s a great idea!” Nykki exclaimed, and for a brief moment part of you wanted to flick her in her gorgeous face, because although you knew she’d want you to enjoy yourself, she also wasn’t entirely convinced that the door was closed for you and Andrei. “Then you don’t have to deal with the extra noise when people start to wake up. I know you’re sensitive to the light.”

There wasn’t much arguing to be had, remembering your promise. Admittedly, after seeing the sheer size of the bed, you thought to yourself it wouldn’t be so bad assuming each of you kept to your designated side.

Which is how you ended up awake at 3 in the morning, shivering under the scrap of sheet you had left.

Staring at the ceiling, you contemplated your options: 1) Stab him to death, 2) Suffocate him with your pillow, or 3) Go searching for an extra blanket somewhere in the Airbnb that you were calling home for the next 5 days.

Unfortunately, option 3 was probably the most logical, so with a heavy sigh, you rolled yourself out of the bed, allowing yourself to wallow in annoyance and frustration. Someone was looking out for you, though, for it only took a few minutes of wandering in the dark to find an entire closet full of soft, warm blankets. Selecting a fuzzy green one, you hugged it to your body before quietly tiptoeing back to the room. You had half a mind to slam the door, but thought better of it, since you had no desire to wake everyone else up.

You weren’t quiet, however, retrieving an extra sweatshirt from your bag before flopping back into bed, part of you hoping his sleep would be disturbed since he’d so effortlessly ruined yours. Warmth slowly began to seep back into your body as you turned your back to Andrei, sleep not far behind.

The next morning, you woke up in a makeshift cocoon of your sweatshirt and the spare blanket you’d found the night before, tucked into the comforter. Squinting your eyes open in the light of the room, you were relieved to find Andrei was gone, affording you the delicious luxury of stretching your limbs without worrying about nudging him.

Quiet chatter sounded from above you, along with the distant sound of feet padding on the tile floor, signaling that others were awake. After a few moments of introspection, you made your way upstairs to find about half of the group huddled in the kitchen, slowly sipping on their mismatched mugs amid quiet conversation.

A low, murmured chorus of “Morning”s sounded when they saw you, taking a seat at the island next to Marty, who offered an affectionate nudge of his knee.

Andrei was busying himself in the kitchen, cleaning up the empty wine glasses left on the countertop from the night before. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at how helpful he was being–where was that courtesy when he was snatching your covers?

When he turned, his eyes landed on you. He frowned slightly seeing your expression, but if he wanted to say something, he opted not to.

“Coffee?” he asked, gesturing to the Nespresso behind him. With a quick glance around, you realized he’d made everyone their drink of choice—at least, to the best of his ability, given the limited selection. “I make a grumpy latte.”

“You mean ‘mean,’” Seth corrected. “‘I make a mean latte.’”

Andrei repeated the word, and you could practically see the gears working in his brain to commit the turn-of-phrase to memory. Then his eyes were back on you. “A mean latte, then?”

“Please.”

A steaming hot mug was placed in front of you a few minutes later. With a small, polite smile, you thanked him before joining in the conversation about the day’s agenda—not much, other than a day at the private beach, and a full barbecue feast later on. When you learned Andrei would be staying back with the boys, you quickly volunteered to head to the grocery store with Nykki to pick up supplies for the week.

Part of you was thankful that it was just you and Nykki, wanting to share your updates—and maybe vent a little bit.

“So? How was it?” she asked, glancing at you from the driver’s seat once you’d parted from the driveway. “Maybe a little snuggle action?”

Rolling your eyes, you did your best to reign in your irritation at last night’s events. You decided against reminding her that it was her fault you’d been forced into domesticity against your will. “Ha. Fat chance. Turns out he’s a blanket hog. Don’t remember that from…”

Nykki’s eyebrows waggled at the way you brought up your rendezvous together. “Maybe you’d sleep better if you were both naked.”

“Nyk, please,” you said, though you granted a small chuckle at her persistence. “The guy is a dick. I’m extending an olive branch—for you—”

“—for everyone here.”

“Fine, for the sake of everyone’s well-being this week,” you corrected. “But I have no interest in renewing whatever that was—”

“—the start of a blossoming, budding, beautiful romance?”

“If that’s what it was, then he ripped up the roots and poured weed killer all over them.”

Pursing her lips, Nykki cast another glance at you, then conceded with a reluctant nod. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I still think there was a miscommunication or something.”

“His ex-girlfriend left his apartment in last night’s clothes, Nykki,” you said matter-of-factly. “I’m not really sure how that could be a miscommunication.”

She hummed, a non-response, and you allowed comfortable silence to settle between you two as she navigated the route to the grocery store. Looking out the window, you watched the trees roll by as you were swept back to the memory in question.

Your keys jingled on their ring that was looped over your middle finger, a large green smoothie cold in your hand as you hit the elevator button with your elbow. Taking a sip of your own smoothie–mixed berry with vanilla yogurt–you waited excitedly as you watched the elevator floors tick down. Finally, it reached ‘LL’ and the stainless steel doors slid open.

Punching the 14, you glanced at yourself in the mirror, checking your reflection. Balancing the second cup in the crook of your arm, you fixed your hair and fluffed it up a little, checking your teeth to make sure there were no chia seeds in them. When the ding of the elevator signaled you’d arrived at your destination, you set off down the hallway with a flutter in your chest.

That flutter died quickly when a door down the hallway opened and a blonde girl wearing a wrinkled dress stepped out, bidding a final goodbye to the apartment’s inhabitants. Her hair was mussed, knotted, like she’d just woken up after a long night and didn’t bother to brush it out. The loosely buckled heels on her feet were the final indication that yes, this was certainly a classic case of a walk of shame.

In any other instance, you might be chuckling to yourself, offering a reassuring nod as someone who’d been in her shoes before. Except the apartment she’d just come out of was the very apartment you were heading to. And unfortunately, you recognized her easily from sleuthing on Instagram: she was Andrei’s ex. More specifically, the ex he’d just broken up with a few weeks prior, and you were the new girl in his life.

Or, at least you thought you were. Until right now.

You were meant to be surprising Andrei with a smoothie from your favorite local shop, something you’d mentioned on your most recent date. When he’d responded to your text asking if he was home, he hadn’t bothered to let you know he was busy yucking it up with his ex-girlfriend.

As the pieces flashed together in front of your eyes, you felt your heart break. Maybe things weren’t going as well as you’d thought. Maybe after some time away, Andrei realized she was, in fact, the one he wanted, and it took being with you to realize that. Maybe you just weren’t his type, and she was.

Self-deprecating thoughts swirled through your brain, taunting you as you turned on your heel and marched toward the stairwell, unwilling to share the same air as her on the elevator, even if it was only for a few moments. Tears filled your eyes as you made your way down, flight by flight, your thoughts only getting worse as you wondered what you’d done wrong.

By the time you reached the bottom, aggressively tossing the untouched green smoothie in the trash, you’d come full circle to end at one conclusion: You hated Andrei Svechnikov.

The sound of Siri indicating an upcoming turn pulled you out of your reminiscence, blinking away the memory that still haunted you. While you knew Nykki was right—you had only been on a few dates with him, and there certainly had been no discussion of relationship status or commitment—you still couldn’t push away the fact of the matter that he hurt you.

What made matters worse was that the dates you had been on were great. He was, as Marty promised, kind, funny, and the banter was the perfect flirt-to-roast ratio. Small though it was, the bud of your romance was just beginning to swell before it all came crashing down.

And the sex? Best you ever had. Like, legs shaking, heart pounding, mind-blowing, life-altering kind of ‘best.’ Funny how Marty had failed to mention that as a possibility.

So, needless to say, not only was sleeping beside him torturous for the sheer distaste you held for him, given everything that transpired, but having to sleep beside his half-naked body was torturous for a whole different reason. His muscles dipped and rippled with every movement, the sheer size of his biceps enough to make your heart flutter.

And that was only while he was asleep.

Awake Andrei was even worse, the dimpled smile paired with the form-fitting, too-short inseam swimming trunks that hung low on his hips, sans t-shirt of course, was enough to make you want to pull your hair out. You couldn’t deny that summer looked good on Andrei, and vacation looked even better; he was more relaxed, the time away from the rink working wonders on his mental health in ways he probably barely understood. His infectious smile was rarely not on his face, which also showed a few days’ worth of facial hair, peppered in along his jaw.

In any other circumstance, he’d be the perfect catch: tall, handsome, rich, amazing in bed. Except he was also a dick. And selfish, and inconsiderate, and an absolute fuckboy. Exactly like you predicted.

You’d told all of this to Nykki, who simply raised an eyebrow at you. She looked at you like she had something to say, like she was analyzing the thoughts inside your brain, but if she came to a conclusion, she kept it to herself, and after pulling into the grocery store parking lot, the conversation was all but forgotten.

A few hours later, the fridge fully stocked with food and plentiful drinks, you sat on the edge of the deck, leaning backward to feel the sun warm on your skin. Nykki was sunbathing beside you, Seth on your opposite side cuddling Gigi in his lap while he watched the others play an intense round of volleyball.

The sound of the light chatter faded into the background as your eyes closed, allowing relaxation to sink into your bones. You might have had a less-than-ideal sleeping arrangement, but you were still on vacation in a beautiful home on a beautiful beach with your friends, an entire week free of obligation and surely full of core memories. The sun was shining, the ocean was blue, and you were going to make the most of it regardless of the Russian who’d hurt you.

Coincidentally, your eyes opened moments before the feeling of being smacked in the leg jolted you up, quickly followed by the feeling of cold liquid on your foot.

“Oh, shit, sorry–”

It took a moment to recognize that the volleyball had veered off-course and not only hit you in the leg, but spilled your drink in the process. And, of course, the culprit was none other than your bedmate, who was looking at you bashfully. It took everything in you not to let your eyes slide down to the way the rest of his torso was shining with a mixture of sweat and sunscreen that made him look like a fucking pageant contestant. His cheeks were flushed slightly pink and he was panting, another action that brought you back to memories you’d prefer not to relive.

Seth tossed the ball back, breaking the very brief moment of tension between you and the Russian. Resisting the urge to scoff and roll your eyes, you instead waved your hand to show him it was no big deal. It wasn’t, of course, but it certainly didn’t help the irritation that dripped off of you in waves whenever he was around.

Fortunately, all of it dissipated by the end of the day, you a few seltzers deep playing cornhole. Though you were partnered with Marty, you were conveniently side by side with Andrei, playing against Pyotr. You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol toying with your system or if Andrei’s hand lingered when he’d hand you the beanbags. Surely, though, it was definitely the alcohol when you felt a tingle where his fingers brushed against yours.

You and Marty triumphed over the Russians in a close victory, celebrating with a late-night jump into the ocean and a warm, roaring fire waiting for you once you dried off. Taking your place in the seat beside Pyotr and slipping on a sweatshirt to cover your damp body, you watched with a grin as Nykki brought all of the fixings for s’mores on a platter.

“What’s a sah-more?” Andrei asked, his accent preventing him from understanding the American dialect.

“S’more,” you corrected. “Like, ‘I want some more.’ S’more. Because they’re delicious.”

Pyotr watched you, perplexed, as you demonstrated, grabbing a marshmallow from the bag and placing it on the end of your rod. Once it was perfectly swollen and golden, you crafted the sandwich, Seth assisting as you placed the graham crackers around the chocolate and marshmallow, pulling it off of the rod and squeezing. Andrei’s eyes widened when he realized—perhaps a little slowly—the point of roasting the marshmallows to make them soft and gooey.

“A s’more,” you said with a grin, handing the sandwich to Pyotr. Cautiously, he took a bite, and you couldn’t help but laugh when his eyes lit up.

“How do you know when it’s done?” Andrei asked, his tongue sticking out as he pushed two onto the rod you handed him. You were quick to take his hand and move it when he proceeded to stick the marshmallows directly into the flame, instead showing him where to hold it to allow for a more even roast.

“You want to keep it moving so it gets an even cook,” you explained, Jesse watching you intently. “How you cook it is a personal preference—I personally like it when it’s a little crisp on the outside—but I would see how you like it golden first. That’s the classic way.”

Naturally, Jesse lit his on fire in an instant, Pyotr letting his swell so far that it fell off and disappeared into the flame. Andrei’s eyes stayed on you, studying the way you rotated the marshmallow, observing it periodically to ensure an even bake. When he was done, you showed him how to stack the sandwich and place the crackers to pull off the marshmallow cleanly. It was weirdly sweet and intimate and… domestic. You were quick to brush the thought away, like a bug that landed on your arm.

His smile when you handed him the s’more was more rewarding than the actual taste of your own. “Your first s’more.”

“Sah… more.”

“Close enough,” you said, then raised yours. “Cheers.”

Drunk, full, and smelling entirely of campfire smoke, you crawled into bed a few hours later content and happy. You didn’t even mind the dip in the bed beside you, or the soft sound of his breathing in the silence of the room. In fact, you found it almost soothing, allowing it to lull you to a seltzer-infused sleep.

It was the sneeze that woke you up, startling you from a dream you were having about Andrei. The details were hazy, but you remembered a sense of warmth and a flash of his dimple, along with the depth of his voice…

Murmuring a ‘bless you,’ you wrapped your arms around the pillow you were holding onto tighter as you snuggled in, hoping to fall back asleep for a little while longer.

But then the pillow started shaking, and the sound of deep laughter erupted beneath your ear, and all at once you realized it was not a pillow that you were hugging at all, but a human. And not just any human, but a man—a tall, handsome, Russian man. One who you were supposed to despise. No, one you did despise.

With a jerk, you pulled away, sleep still clinging to your eyes despite your surprise. “Fuck, what the—m’sorry.”

As your vision began to clear, you squinted amidst the light to see Andrei, grinning so wide his missing tooth was visible. The cross on his chest was crooked from sleep, and his hair was mussed in a really delicious, sexy way that reminded you of—

“We were supposed to keep to our separate sides,” you said, quickly retreating back to yours. The sheets were cold, and you instantly missed the warmth he provided as you tugged the blanket up to your chin to hide the goosebumps that erupted over your skin.

“I did,” he said, and even though he was right, it didn’t stop you from being annoyed.

“Why didn’t you wake me up? Or move me?” you scoffed. You’re making it harder to hate you.

He shrugged. “You looked so peaceful. It didn’t bother me. I know I’m a bit of a blanket hog when I sleep, so if I can keep you warm, I’m more than happy to.”

It was so sweet it was infuriating. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you simply chose to offer a, “Thanks,” before sliding out of bed and heading to the bathroom.

The warmth of his body tingled against yours as you changed into your swimsuit, though you did your best to shake the feeling.

The next few days passed quickly, a blur of swimming, catnapping in the sun, and full of laughter. You and Andrei managed to form an unusual routine, splitting privacy in the bathroom and generally avoiding each other outside of what was necessary. Since you were the only single members of the group, it was only natural for you to be paired up from time to time, adding to the already uncomfortable dynamic, but you made it work with minimal complaining.

His kindness irritated you. It seemed genuine, almost like he couldn’t help himself, but it also felt like he was subtly—or not so subtly—trying to make up for what he did. It was strange that he’d never come out and addressed it, but, then again, neither did you, instead keeping that layer of vulnerability buried deep. When you complained, Nykki simply rolled her eyes at you, so you learned to keep it to yourself and let it fester. Surely a healthy option.

It kept cropping up, though, when he’d return from the cooler with an extra drink for you and when he would check to make sure you had enough blanket before going to sleep, or the time that you turned around to ask Monica to rub sunscreen into your back only to find she’d dozed off and he volunteered bashfully.

“I’m not going to bite, you know.”

“I might,” you said, mostly teasing but not entirely. You felt a little bad at the surprise on his face, unsure whether to laugh or to drop the sunscreen bottle and walk away. Unfortunately, the feeling of his large hands rubbing your back was divine, almost sinful, and you caught a small moan moments before it slipped past your lips.

You found it almost nauseating to constantly flip back and forth between loathing, lust, and whatever else was in between. One moment, he’d be irritating the hell out of you, and the next, you found yourself daydreaming about the way his chain bumped against your chin when he—

“I know it’s pretty late in the day, but I brought you a coffee. The way that you like it.”

The sound of his voice made you jump, and Andrei murmured a soft apology. You were lying on a beach chair, sunbathing, engrossed in a romance book in which the main male character reminded you a little too much of the man you were sharing a bed with. The man who was standing beside you, offering you a coffee. He’d taken note of the way you’d rummaged through the small collection of spices in the kitchen, sprinkling a little bit of cinnamon on your coffee, and, without a word, continued to prepare your coffee that way every morning.

See? Infuriating.

Accepting the glass from his outstretched hand, you allowed the irritation that bubbled inside of you to simmer for a moment. You really did try to swallow it, to let the olive branch be enough, but then the words were blurting out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Can you stop being so nice to me?”

Andrei’s brows knitted together, confused. You hated how dumb and cute he looked when he was confused. “Stop… being… nice to you?”

Well, when he said it like that, it sounded stupid.

“Look,” you sighed, “I am trying to be cordial because I made a promise to Nykki not to cause a fuss this week. I appreciate that you’re being so kind, but honestly, it really isn’t necessary. The bare minimum is fine with me.”

Ignoring the pang of guilt you felt when a look of hurt crossed his face, you sat firm while his eyes locked with yours. He was confused; you could see it in his eyes, and you resisted the urge to punch him for having the audacity to be upset that his feelings got hurt.

“I don’t even know why you hate me,” he finally said, quietly, sitting on the edge of the other chaise, eyes cast down at the deck.

“I don’t—I don’t hate you, Andrei, you just–” you paused, briefly flashing back to the sight of the girl in last night’s dress. Then, you continued, hating how small your voice had gotten in the brief pause. “I thought we had something going, before.”

“We did,” he said quickly, looking up to meet your gaze, like he was surprised that you’d acknowledged your past. “At least I thought we did. I was crazy about you. I think maybe I still am.”

His words struck through your heart, softening the icy crystals that had surrounded it–though, admittedly, they’d turned more into slush over the last week with him. Confusing, infuriating, messy slush. “Then why… how could you–?”

Concern washed over Andrei’s face, turning to face you fully. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw her,” you said meekly. “Your ex–Maya–leaving your apartment that day. In last night’s clothes. I was coming to surprise you with a smoothie. It wasn’t hard to figure out it was a walk of shame, Andrei.”

Andrei’s eyes widened, and he turned onto his back before scrubbing his face with his hands. It took you a moment to realize he was smiling–laughing, actually. Instantly, you were filled with rage; how could he be laughing at you in a moment like this?

You sat up, the urge to punch him in the face passing quickly and making way to being fully ready to move your things to the couch, unwilling to even be in his presence any longer. What a fucking asshole.

“No, wait, I’m sorry—I’m not laughing at you, I swear,” he said, sitting up too, your movement catching his attention. The smile on his face had faded almost instantly, though there were still remnants of laughter in his eyes. Unamused, you paused, mentally giving him 10 seconds to start explaining or else you were marching back up to the house and making him sleep on the couch.

“You aren’t going to believe me, but we didn’t—I didn’t… nothing happened between us that night, I swear.”

You raised your eyebrows, unimpressed, then blinked at him as if to say, ‘You’re going to have to do better than that.’

“I was out with the guys that night—I think I’d told you that—and she showed up at the end of the night. I said hi to her just to be nice, but she was pretty lit up. And there was a guy there who was being kind of creepy, and… she was just so drunk, I didn’t think she could make it home safe, you know? So I told her she could come back to my place.”

And? That doesn’t mean that you didn’t hook up with your ex that you broke up with and then went on a date with me, you thought.

“I let her take my bed, and I slept on the couch,” he continued, as if he was privy to the thoughts in your head. “I didn’t—I wouldn’t have done that to you, and I wouldn’t have even wanted to with her anyways. Not after I met you.”

You swallowed. “You didn’t… sleep with her?”

“No.”

Your heart sank as his words set in. Not because you were disappointed—in fact, you thought you were relieved—but mostly because in a matter of 3 minutes, you’d gone from annoyed, to fuming mad, to mortified beyond belief. You’d spent an entire 6 months hating this man for something he didn’t even do, all because you didn’t have the decency or decorum to confront him about it, and instead gave him the cold shoulder like a 14-year-old girl. You wished you could curl up into a ball and bury yourself beneath the towel forever.

Unable to bear his eyes on you, you covered your face with your hand as if it would take away the burning in your cheeks.

“Andrei, I–” you stopped, the embarrassment far too strong to continue speaking for a moment. Then, swallowing, you decided on, “I feel like such a dick.”

“No, it’s okay,” he said, shaking his head with a laugh. “I would’ve been mad too, if I thought what you did. I’m honestly just glad you don’t hate me.”

“Oh my God,” you cried out, laughing at yourself as yet another hot wave of shame washed over you. “I’m so fucking sorry, Andrei.”

He smiled, his eyes soft on you in a way that said there was nothing to apologize for, even though you felt like you could—and likely would—continue to apologize every single day for the next six months, the same amount of time you’d spent hating him for nothing. The amount of time you’d wasted when you could’ve been with him.

What was worse, you realized, was that he’d been nothing but kind to you the whole time. Despite your more-than-frosty attitude, snarky quips, and general annoyance, he still stayed upbeat and chipper, never letting it dull his spirit. Marty had been true to his word, after all—not that you’d ever really doubted him.

“Could I—could I kiss you? Please?”

His question had your eyes snapping up to meet his, as if to make sure he wasn’t just pulling a prank on you. He was smiling, but not in a teasing way, and he was watching you, searching for any sign of hesitation.

“I’m sorry if that’s too forward. I just… I never heard from you again, but I didn’t know what happened, and I dreamt of what I’d do if I ever got the chance with you again.”

Your heart of ice melted into a puddle, trickling warmth in your chest. He’d never given up hope despite your most irritable, ruthless, horrible self. He’d never given up on you.

Meekly, still shy from your horrific embarrassment, you nodded, letting him scoot closer to you before he was leaning into you, pausing just before his lips touched yours to allow you to change your mind. You didn’t, instead closing the small gap and pressing your lips to his.

It was sweet, soft, like the marshmallow in the s’more you’d made for him a few nights prior, filling your heart with warmth that you hadn’t felt since the last time he kissed you. In an instant, all of the irritation, sadness, anger dissipated, floating away with the feeling of his lips.

When you pulled away, you couldn’t help the grin that spread on your face; it was automatic, curling upward until your cheeks hurt.

“I’ve wanted to do that all week,” he confessed, licking his lips as if to savor the taste of you.

“Maybe you should make up for lost time, then.”

His triumphant smile was the last thing you saw before his lips were back on yours, reacquainting themselves with your mouth. Large hands were quick to cup the back of your head, keeping you pressed against him—not that you had any desire to pull away.

Your heart was pure liquid as he kissed you, surging through the clouds like a high speed jet, and you were unable to stop your tongue moving of its own accord to flick at the seam of his mouth. Andrei was quick to pick up the slack, allowing his own tongue to deepen the kiss. His fingers threaded through your hair and you sighed against his mouth, feeling the embers in your belly roaring to life under his touch.

He wasn’t close enough, your body yearning for more. Fortunately, he seemed to be on the same page, his hands parting with your head in favor of trailing down your sides to your hips, encouraging you to shift until you were straddling his lap. It still wasn’t enough, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain, not with the way his hands began to trail fire underneath the hem of your shirt, sliding against your skin. In a matter of moments, you’d gone from furious, to morbid embarrassment, to clouded with lust as you were enveloped by a blanket of steam.

When you heard the sound of Jaffa’s enormous paws bounding down the dock, it took a few seconds to remember that you were in a public space—far more public than you’d have preferred, given you were moments away from being topless. Quickly, you pulled away and slid off of Andrei, running a hand over your lips in an attempt to straighten up your appearance as you heard Jesse and Pyotr’s voices echoing down the path.

You snuck a quick glance at Andrei, whose lips definitely looked swollen, and his eyes were shining in a way that made you want to kiss him again. His eyes caught yours, and you couldn’t help the grin that washed over your face when he smiled at you.

Once Jesse and Pyotr reached the platform, they looked at the two of you sitting side by side underneath the cabana, though neither of them said anything. Pyotr’s eyes lingered for a beat longer, catching Andrei’s in a way that said he’d already figured out everything that just happened. You knew because it was the same way Nykki looked at you a few minutes later, pausing ever so briefly to look at the few inches of space between you before she was back to her task of putting Gigi’s life vest on.

The rest of the afternoon passed slowly, distracted briefly by a rousing game of volleyball and tossing a water frisbee in the ocean for Jaffa and Gigi. Nykki had made a reservation at a nice restaurant on the beach at sunset, so you headed up to the house a bit early to shower and get ready. Alone in the bathroom, you had a few moments of quiet to yourself to reflect on how your world had been turned upside down in a matter of hours.

The contrast of feelings was strong, almost giving you emotional vertigo—moving so quickly from hate to… what? Figuring out how you felt about Andrei was going to be a strange journey, you thought, but something inside of you was eager to find out. As you thought about him, attempting to remove the incorrect assumptions you’d made about him, all of your other memories of him were fond, happy even, and you found that you were cautiously excited to spend more time with him without the hate-tinted-glasses.

Naturally, the other part of you was hesitant, unwilling to trust him despite the fact that he’d already debunked your reason for mistrusting him in the first place. Though it wasn’t intentional, he’d still hurt you, or, rather, you were hurt by what you thought he’d done, which meant the possibility of him hurting you again was still there, regardless of the intention. No matter what Marty said, or promised, the door for getting your heart crushed was wide open. And that terrified you.

As you wrestled with the conflicting thoughts in your mind, a soft knock on the door startled you, nearly missing a poke in the eye from your mascara wand.

“Can I come in?” Andrei’s voice was low, muffled by the door.

You hummed in approval, taking note of the flutter in your heart when he pushed the door open, a smile already on his face. His hair was wet, still dripping from a dip in the ocean, droplets sitting enticingly on his chiseled abdomen; you resisted the urge to watch one of them roll past the hem of his swimming trunks.

“I, um,” he stuttered, casting his eyes down like he’d just intruded on a private moment, “I need to take a quick shower. I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“That’s okay,” you smiled—genuinely—and finished the last swipe of mascara. “I’m almost done anyways.”

Heat rose in your cheeks as he smiled again, squeezing behind you as you put your makeup away. Things were definitely different, a complete 180 from where you were at the beginning of the week. The feeling in your chest reminded you of how you’d felt after your first date: giddy, like a teenage girl with a crush. And you couldn’t deny the attraction you still had for him, the low pulse in your belly ever-present around his dimple and sculpted arms.

Andrei stepped out of the bathroom as you were adjusting the straps on your dress in the bedroom mirror, and your eyes flicked to him in the reflection. Of course, his towel was slung low around his waist, the steam around him symbolic in more ways than one.

He swallowed thickly, his eyes connecting with yours. “You look really pretty.”

“Thank you, Andrei,” you said, bashful, resisting the urge to add, ‘You look really pretty, too.’

Tension was thick between you two in the car, though if anyone noticed, no one said anything. Perhaps, you thought, everyone assumed it was the usual distaste and bickering, but part of you wondered if everyone else could sense the change that had occurred between you in the lower level bedroom. His leg pressed against yours, strong and firm, warmth seeping into your own thigh as you did your best to ignore it.

Dinner would’ve been fine, if not for the fact that Andrei’s eyes continually drifted to yours, a sparkle in them like he knew a secret that you didn’t. The glow of the sunset looked like heaven shining on his face, bright and warm in a way that complemented his smile perfectly. He looked like a god, or some kind of divinity, with his perfect bone structure and the deep boom of his laugh.

All at once, it hit you. While yes, you’d made some incorrect assumptions, you used his ex-girlfriend as a crutch to run away because, really, he scared you. He was the first man to ever make you feel so comfortable, so naturally at home; the first one who had real potential of being somebody to you. You did like Andrei—maybe, probably, deep down, you never stopped.

And if the way his hand lingered on yours when he helped you step into the car was any indication, maybe he felt the same way, too.

Once your revelation struck, it was difficult to think of anything else. It was like a curtain had been pulled back, a spotlight had been cast on everything Andrei. His commentary no longer peeved you, but made you laugh, endearing him to you and deepening the hole he’d made in your heart. His presence, rather than bothering you, enthralled you and set sparks alight in your chest. How could you have missed this?

Back at the Airbnb, a fire was quickly built and everyone gathered for another round of drinks and s’mores for dessert. Up until that day, it had been your favorite part: sitting around the crackling flame, telling stupid jokes and stories that eventually melded into deep conversation. But sitting there, mere feet away from Andrei, less than three hours removed from a realization that turned your world upside down, you could hardly wait until you could be alone with him in the privacy of your room. For the first time, you were looking forward to crawling into bed beside him.

Though you tried your best to act cool, you couldn’t help but glance at your wrist every five minutes, waiting all-but-patiently for everyone to decide they were ready for bed. Your lips burned from where he had kissed you, the feeling of his hands on your body seared on your skin. The warmth between your legs returned—or maybe it never left. If he was as excitedly nervous as you were, he didn’t show it; his relaxed exterior was almost enough to fool you that nothing had even happened between you, save for the low, subtle glances your way that told you no, it hadn’t been your imagination, and yes, he was very much anticipating lights out as much as you were.

It took everything in you not to run downstairs once the final embers of the dying fire were extinguished with water, instead matching Pyotr’s pace as he leisurely made his way back up to the house. You bid him goodnight, watching him turn down the hallway toward his room, and after checking that no one else was around to see you, you darted down the stairs toward the bedroom.

Andrei wasn’t far behind you, the sound of the door clicking shut catching your attention as you worked through your evening skincare routine. The tension between you was almost physically palpable as he sidled into the bathroom beside you, holding your gaze in the mirror.

As he brushed his teeth, his foot side-stepped to nudge yours, a subtle gesture that held so much more meaning. You smiled around your own toothbrush, very aware of his eyes on your ass as you bent forward to rinse. Part of you wished he’d take you right there, but then you thought about how much more space you’d have if you could just be patient for a few more minutes.

Painstaking though they were, eventually you crawled under the covers, anxious butterflies swarming in your chest as you watched him slip into the bed beside you. For the first time that week, you both intentionally crossed the invisible line separating the two halves of the bed, meeting in the middle in a tangle of limbs and hurried kisses, like making up for all of the time you’d wasted.

It wasn’t long before the pajamas you had thrown on were removed—part of you wondered why you even bothered, until he was chasing the fabric with his mouth, trailing slow kisses along your skin to replace the warmth. His hands traced the line of your spine, arching your back while his lips created constellations on your chest. Finally, his mouth followed the collar of your shirt past your neck, pausing to run his tongue along the column of your throat.

Once your shirt was tossed on the ground, he held eye contact with you as he descended back down your body, hands cupping your breasts before his mouth was on them, sucking and licking with a low groan. Your legs parted to allow him to settle between them while his hands worked their way down to your hips, reaching beneath you to squeeze your ass. The movement elicited a soft sigh from your lips, trying your hardest to stay as silent as possible to avoid anyone hearing you.

“Been thinking about this all week,” he murmured against your chest, “even though I wasn’t supposed to.”

Your mind was hazy, registering confusion a few moments late. “Why not?”

He paused, pulling back to look at you with an amused expression. “I thought you hated me until about four hours ago. Remember?”

Having his lips parted from your body allowed for a moment of clarity, and you laughed bashfully. “Oh, right.”

Nudging your nose with his, he smiled warmly before returning his lips to yours. You could feel his hands toying with the hem of your underwear, the grin curling on his lips against your mouth.

“What did you say earlier? I have to make up for lost time?”

Before you could even process a response, his hands were tugging your hips toward him, settling onto his stomach to make a trail of wet kisses on the inside of your thigh. The outgrown stubble on his jaw scratched at your skin, but you yearned for more, spreading your legs to encourage him to travel farther.

You could feel his chuckle against your skin, perhaps pleased with your eagerness, but instead of giving in to your silent request, he simply switched to the other leg. It wasn’t until you whined that he granted a small reprieve, pressing a kiss against your center, inhaling deeply.

“I sure missed you,” he murmured quietly, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or to your pussy. Perhaps both.

And then finally, his finger hooked into your panties, tugging them to the side as he feasted his eyes on you. His eyes were wide, tongue darting out to lick his lips like he’d just been presented with a five course meal.

Andrei dove in, his tongue attacking your folds with an intensity you’d never seen before. He laved at your wetness, groaning once the taste of you hit his tongue, arms wrapping around your legs as he settled in. The scratch of his five o’clock shadow was delicious, sending sparks through your body that had every nerve alight in a glow.

It wasn’t long before your fingers were carding through his hair, your legs pressing against his head as he worked you through an eye-rolling orgasm, doing your best to stay quiet. He was steady, patient, coaxing you through the final waves of pleasure, his eyes closed like he was enjoying it just as much. I doubt it, you thought.

You barely had time to process any words, brain fuzzy and toes tingly, before Andrei’s mouth was trailing its way back up your body, leaving a messy trail of his saliva and your cum on your stomach. Soon, his lips reached yours, reclaiming your mouth like he could barely stand to be away from it—though, if the rigid erection pressing against your belly was any indication, he liked the alternative plenty.

Which reminded you of a fleeting thought you’d had when his tongue was buried inside of you, which was that you wanted his dick. Very badly, in fact. So badly, that you didn’t even realize your hips were rolling up into him with a mind of their own.

“Andrei,” you whispered against his lips. Your hand fumbled its way down the toned peaks and valleys of his muscles, your final destination standing proudly at attention as it bumped against your pelvis. He twitched when you brushed him through his shorts. “Want you. Need you.”

He hummed, and then you felt his lips curl into a smile against your mouth. “Yeah?”

“Please.”

“What do you want, baby?” his voice was low, murmured against the skin of your neck as he trailed down. “Tell me.”

A whimper left you, and he nipped at your collarbone to remind you to stay quiet. “Y- your dick, Andrei. Please. Fuck me.”

Andrei paused, pressing his head against your sternum as he let out a guttural groan. “Been wanting to hear you say that for so long.”

His words earned a flutter in your chest, quickly heightened when his mouth attached to your nipple. He wasn’t in any hurry, and he seemed to be enjoying making you wait impatiently. Not that you could really think clearly with his tongue drawing sinful circles across your breast, sucking in a way that could only be described as worship.

You weren’t sure if it was 30 seconds or 30 minutes later, but eventually he finally wrenched himself away from your body in favor of removing his shirt. Greedily, your hands moved to drag themselves over the impressive muscle of his core, feeling the ridges with your fingers the way you’d been dreaming of all week. Your attention span was cut short, though, when your eyes were drawn to the waistband of his shorts, fighting for its life to restrain the very erect appendage tucked beneath it.

Andrei wasn’t moving fast enough, and you felt like you were moments away from tears if you didn’t get him inside you right then, so you took the initiative to tug down his shorts. The sound of skin slapping against skin covered the sound of your sharp inhale at finally seeing him, completely bare again.

“God,” you said, “it’s so fucking… pretty.”

A smirk formed on his face, and briefly, you wondered how many girls had told him that before. Probably a lot. But they weren’t wrong; everything about the man felt like he’d been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself.

Lowering himself down over you, caging your head in between his arms, he pressed another scorching kiss to your lips that sucked the air clean out of your lungs. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

In any other circumstance, you probably would’ve become bashful with a shy smile, but you could feel the heavy weight of his dick resting against your thigh, throbbing, and you found yourself unable to focus on anything else. You spread your legs, allowing him to fall into the cradle of your hips, before rolling them upward in an attempt to entice him.

He loved it, drinking in your enthusiasm in contrast to the sharp glares and snarky comments you’d given at the beginning of the week. But he didn’t let it deter him, instead taking a hand and tracing the outline of your lip with his pointer finger. You savored the warmth of it before he was dipping it into your mouth, then a second. Surely he could feel the vibration of your moan against his digits, smiling to himself when your tongue swirled around them.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured. “Just like that.”

Shivering under his praise and eager to earn more, you sucked on his fingers the way you’d suck on his dick, blinking up at him like how you’d seen in pornos. He licked his lips, enjoying the sight, a low “good girl” escaping.

His hand left your mouth, a messy string of saliva keeping you connected until his hand was moving to your core, still wet and still throbbing from your first orgasm. Plunging his fingers inside of your entrance, he diligently watched your face for your pleasured reactions, humming to himself when your mouth fell open.

A long, soft whine escaped, and his free hand was quick to cover your mouth with his palm. His mouth descended along your jaw, whispering hotly in your ear, “Gotta be quiet, malyshka. We have neighbors.”

Helpless, you nodded, pleading with your eyes to keep going, don’t stop. The movement of his hand was steady, patient, striking with intention and precision to have you keening quietly beneath him. Pleasure flooded you in waves, radiating from the pulse of your core, throbbing wantonly around his fingers. His thumb pressed against your clit, drawing slow circles in time with his movements.

The man was a Russian god, plain and simple. For all of the bitching you’d done about his extracurricular activities, you couldn’t find a single complaint now that his fingers were lodged inside of you and he was utilizing his extensive experience to your advantage, drawing you closer and closer to your peak.

But it wasn’t enough, not quite, not when you could feel his erection bobbing against your leg. You whispered his name, quiet but loud enough for him to remove his hand, eyes searching yours for a sign of resistance.

“Andrei,” you repeated. “I need you.”

A grin broke out on his face, though his hand didn’t budge from between your legs. “Fuck, baby. Say that again.”

With a burst of confidence, you reached between your bodies and pulled his fingers out of you, suppressing a whine in the process. Smoothly, and without breaking eye contact, you pulled his hand up to your mouth, taking his digits in your mouth again. He groaned as you sucked off your own essence, savoring the taste and briefly wondering what you’d taste like full of him.

“I said,” you purred, licking your lips, “I need you.”

Andrei let out a chuckle, shaking his head before biting his lip with a groan. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

I’m pretty sure I already died and went to heaven, you thought, but the words didn’t quite make it out of your mouth.

In an agonizing moment, he tore himself away from your body to retrieve a condom from his bag. He ripped it open and slid it over himself in the few seconds it took him to return to the bed, maneuvering himself between your legs. You couldn’t help the sigh of relief that came when his skin pressed against yours once more.

With unbearable patience, Andrei watched your face as he slid his tip through your folds, wetting himself with your slick. You whined, feeling yourself throb having him so close to where you wanted–no, needed–him.

And then, with only a smirk as a warning, he pushed forward and sheathed himself inside of you. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, though his groan of approval was questionably loud; if you weren’t being nearly split in half with his dick, you’d have had half a mind to scold him.

But then he was moving, experimentally, and all thought flew from your brain, leaving it completely vacant except for his name. His name, whispered in a prayer on your lips as he worked himself deeper, filling you up completely. Your hands fumbled in search of purchase, finding it in the taut muscle of his bicep, flexing deliciously as he held himself over you.

His lips were on you, on your lips, on your jaw, on your neck, intoxicating you until your brain was in a fog of nothing but pleasure. The tight coil in your belly was unraveling, already, brought halfway to climax by his fingers and drawing you instantly closer now that they were replaced by something even better. Confidence rolled off of him despite his eyes closed, like he was concentrating, hanging on for dear life.

“Feel so fucking good,” he said, his voice rough. “Made for me. Missed this. Missed you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, a pang of guilt flashing through the haze when you remembered that you could’ve been doing this the entire time.

“You can apologize to me by saying my name again, kisa.”

So you did. Over and over again, calling for him in hushed whispers as if each time you said it, the shame would fade away just a little bit more.

“You want me to forgive you?”

You’d forgotten how to speak anything other than Andrei, and so you nodded, desperately.

He seized your lips one more time, kissing you deeper than you’d ever been kissed, enough that you were sure you stopped breathing for a moment. His hips ceased their movement, pausing while he was buried inside of you. “Come all over my cock, baby. Then I’ll forgive you.”

It didn’t take much effort to flip him over onto his back, his hands quick to find your hips to help guide you to your place on his lap. You took the liberty of teasing him back, dragging your core along his rigid length with your hands planted on the firm muscle of his chest. The action alone sent sparks coursing through your body; you couldn’t believe it had taken you so long to realize the electricity you felt when his skin touched yours.

Sinking onto him, you bit your lip to hide a moan. You didn’t waste any time finding a rhythm, rolling your hips to bring yourself up to the crest. His chest was steady beneath your fingers, and you found it hard not to swoon under his gaze, looking up at you like you hung the moon and the stars, like he couldn’t believe you were there, with him, in that moment.

You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, hitching when you circled your hips and brought a hand to your pelvis. He murmured a few words of encouragement, his jaw tense as he fought off his own impending orgasm, watching the way the pad of your finger brushed your clit.

“Andrei,” you whispered, just wanting to feel his name on your tongue. “Right there.”

“Yeah? Like that, dorogoy?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice, and squeezed your eyes shut. His hand sought out your free one, lacing your fingers together as he hummed prayers of worship at your altar. It was quiet, and mixed slightly with Russian, but you made out a few words like “beautiful” and “want to feel you” amid the low whisper of his voice.

Before you could process or even choke out a warning, your climax hit you all at once, the way a roller coaster tips over the edge just before the drop. Heat flooded your entire body, a brightness washing over you as the pleasure wracked through you in waves. Distantly, you felt his hand squeezing yours and heard the vague sound of a groan as he hit his own peak.

You weren’t sure how long you lay there, slumped against his sternum, listening to the sound of his heart beating rapidly in his chest as the two of you became one tangled mess of sweaty limbs and heavy panting. As your heart began to settle down, you felt his fingers tracing shapes along your spine, soothing you.

“D’you think anyone heard?” you asked.

“You kind of… screamed. So they definitely know.”

“Oh.” You felt instant mortification creeping in, mind briefly wandering to how you were going to explain this to Nykki. But then his hand was moving to thread through your hair, combing through it with his fingers, the feeling sending those delicious tingles down your spine.

Eventually, though it broke your heart to do it, you parted from him to allow the both of you to clean up. Once you were back in bed, tucked beneath the covers, you couldn’t help the smile that curled on your face as the reality of the moment set in.

“Does this mean you forgive me?”

He paused, tugging you into him and wrapping a long arm around your shoulders. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said. --

EPILOGUE

Checking your watch for what felt like the fifth time in less than a minute, you sighed impatiently. Six weeks ago, you’d bid farewell to your on-again-sort-of-boyfriend with a series of kisses and a heavy heart. It felt unfair to have had so little time together from the end of your vacation to his departure for his homeland, but you reminded yourself that it was your fault for the poor timing. Still, you’d managed to keep in touch with regular texts and daily FaceTime calls, more often than not ending with you kicking your feet and giggling at the ceiling, though sometimes they left you feeling a different kind of giddy. The man was good with his words, you had to admit, and the deep timber of his voice, even through the phone, could send goosebumps trailing across your skin with a deep shiver and a flip of your belly.

When your phone buzzed, you almost hated yourself for how quickly you reacted, smiling to yourself when you saw his name pop up on your screen.

[Andrei:] Just left the airport. I’ll see you soon 😘

Waiting was nearly unbearable, but worth it when you heard the knock at your door. With a grin, you pulled open the door and launched yourself into his arms without a second thought, laughing at his slight “oof” he let out.

Eventually, he set you down, hands keeping their place on your hips as he smiled at you. “Hi.”

“Hi. I missed you.”

“Oh, you did? I couldn’t tell.”

“Shut up,” you said, giving him a playful shove.

Andrei set his bag by the door, unceremoniously plopping on the couch before gesturing for you to join him. After what felt like eons, it felt so good to press your cheek against his warmth, feel the weight of his strong arm wrapped around your shoulder.

“Hey,” he said a few moments later. You hummed, content and almost not wanting to ruin the moment. “I have something to tell you.”

His words gave you pause, sitting up to look him in the eye. He was bashful, smiling, and for a moment you were astounded by how handsome he looked: the 2-day scruff that you loved on him, his dimple peeking out, the glitter of happiness in his eyes, tired from travel.

He took a breath. He seemed nervous, which was unlike him, and you looked at him with concern.

“I know it hasn’t been very long, since we…”

“Rekindled.”

Andrei smiled. “Yes. That.”

He opened his mouth to speak again, but you interrupted whatever he was about to say, blurting out, “I love you.”

You froze, jaw dropping in horror when you realized what you’d said. It came out of nowhere, a fleeting thought that unexpectedly made its way to your mouth, and you looked at him, prepared for an immediate goodbye.

But instead he was smiling—grinning, actually. “I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend, officially, but you’re ten steps ahead of me.”

Heat flooded your cheeks and you covered your face in embarrassment. “I’m sorry for jumping the gun. I didn’t—that wasn’t supposed to come out. You don’t have to say it back.”

You felt his touch warm on your arm, gently bringing your hands down from your face. His finger tilted your chin toward him. He was looking at you, smiling, eyes warm and happy. “Answer my question first.”

“You didn’t ask me a question.”

He rolled his eyes, then straightened out and with a flourish of his hand, said, “Will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

“Okay, you didn’t have to make it sound like a proposal,” you said, nudging his leg to let him know you were joking. “But yes, of course.”

Andrei smiled, moving to cup your face in his hand to bring it closer to him and press a kiss to your lips. He hummed, kissing you deeper, and in an instant, liquid heat began to weave its way through your bloodstream.

He pulled away, almost abruptly, earning a whine from you. You were nowhere near ready to be done kissing him, but then he tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled again.

“I love you, too, by the way.”

SIMILAR CONTENT:

The Mystery of Love* Third Time's the Charm* Sundress Season*

#andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov smut #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov imagine #hockey imagine #andrei svechnikov blurb #andrei svechnikov x y/n #hockey romance #nhl imagine #writing #hockey fic #nhl fic

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ivymarquis · 10 months

Text

Blind Date

Me: “why the fuck is this fic taking so long to finish?”

The fic: *is the longest singular piece I’ve ever written for one chapter*

Pairing| John Price x F!Single Mom!Reader Rating| M Word Count| 8.4k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Drinking (everyone is clear headed), run ins with a shitty ex, mentions of abuse from prior relationship, these two are incredibly down bad for each other, oral (m! and f!receiving), protected piv, squirting

There is a certain catharsis in lamenting your dating horror stories with men to a married lesbian who’s over a decade older than you. Kate is always willing to lend an ear, and you’re positive that she gets a kick out of your misadventures in the way so many married people did while listening to their single friends.

“I swear I’m this close to just giving up all together and embracing spinsterhood,” you grouse with a drink in your hand after the work day had concluded.

You like to think your standards aren’t unreasonable. Someone kind, with their head on straight. It felt like finding a man who respects you as a person is becoming too big an ask and you very simply would rather be alone than deal with the endless hoard of men who seem hell bent on destroying any confidence you have in yourself.

“What about the guy you went out with yesterday?” Kate inquires with her head tilted. Must be fun, listening to your ramblings with a devoted partner at home.

“Oh did I not tell you? He was engaged!”

Kate pulls a face like her drink soured on her, matching how you’d felt at the time.

“Even better- guess how I found out he’s engaged.”

“She showed up at the restaurant?” Kate hits the nail on the head on the first try.

“Bingo,” you raise your glass in a gesture of affirmation before finishing it off. “Somehow I ended up being the one getting yelled at in that situation. Un-friggin-believable.”

You don’t abuse your work privileges to creep on people you meet in your personal life, but public record could have spared you if he’d been married. Harder to find out about an engagement from a total stranger who was determined to not let you find out about it and didn’t have social media.

“There’s always the other side,” Kate teases.

“Women scare me too much, I get all nervous.” You could appreciate an attractive woman as much as the next gal but good God you just could not help yourself when it came to men. The subtle way their breathing would change before they made their move, that low timber growling in your ear. The sheer weight of one on top of you as he manhandled you into the bedding-

Dear Lord, you need to get laid. Maybe you’re fixating on it too much because you’ve had an over 2 year dry spell. That tends to happen after a baby though. Especially with a pain in the ass ex who thinks he can pick and choose when to be around (and becomes absolutely incensed each time you remind him he could be consistent or he could stay home).

Kate is thoughtful for a moment, clearly kicking around an idea she hasn’t fully committed to in one direction or another. You can see the moment she decides to proceed with the thought. “Depending on what exactly you’re looking for, I might know someone.”

—

And here you are on a Saturday night, nerves clawing at your belly like a rabid dog.

Most (well, all) of the men you’ve dated you met online. There’s almost additional butterflies beyond the first-meet jitters knowing that the date is set up by a mutual friend.

There’s more at stake, even if the stakes are relatively low pressure. If the guys you met online did something incredibly out of pocket you never had to see them again, and held no qualms divulging the events to friends. Your romantic life has been full of misadventures but has given you a handful of stories, and as strangers you never have to consider any possible fallout in telling those stories.

Your son is with your mother for the night, allowing you the opportunity to focus solely on yourself this evening. No concern about keeping an eye on him while getting ready, worrying about what possible trouble he’ll get into when your back is turned.

It is hard at times- striking that balance between wanting to be a good mom and also wanting to be acknowledged as a desirable woman who has needs. A lot of men are shitty about it. You’d grilled Kate for every detail of his reaction when being informed of your young son. You don’t need another ambush regarding your disinterest in making it work with your son’s father.

She’d soothed your nerves- he hadn’t batted an eye, was about as worried about your reaction to how often his job pulled him away as you were about him having a poor reaction to being a single mom. You both have responsibilities that have to be placed above a relationship, now go play nice and have fun.

You tell yourself you can have one drink while waiting at the bar of the restaurant you’d agreed to meet at.

White wine ends up being your pick- not quite so easy to suck down as a tasty cocktail full of liquor, but gives you something to occupy yourself with.

You’ve only had the drink a handful of minutes before hearing someone clear their throat slightly behind you, and then your name.

Kate has shown you a photo of what he looks like so you’re not caught off guard when you turn around.

He’s handsome. You expect that but it’s different seeing him opposed to just the photo. Kind eyes, a warm smile on his face as he takes you in.

At least you both seem pleased with the big reveal.

“I’ve got a table waiting for us if you’re ready, love.”

He holds out a hand to let you balance yourself as you dismount from the bar seating, allowing you to steady yourself in your heels.

His hand is warm on your waist as he guides you and you’re already smitten by the time the pair of you sit down.

You’re fifteen minutes into dinner when you decide that so long as he a) is willing and b) doesn’t say or do anything completely deranged, you are going to ride Captain John Price like a mechanical bull at a shitty dive bar at the end of the night.

Perhaps the bar is in hell but either way you have been utterly deprived the past few years and he is checking plenty of boxes for you.

“So you work with Kate?” Starting off on the easy footing- the common ground that leads you both here.

“I do. Not directly- I work more on the tech side. I’m an independent contractor, I basically built the entire system she runs off of.”

“Beauty and brains,” his praise warms you, an impressed expression on his face. “Would explain how we’ve never crossed paths if you were hiding in a backroom surrounded by monitors,” he teases.

“You’re actually not that far off the mark,” not that you hide persay, but keeping that contract keeps a roof over your head and food in your child’s mouth. That keeps you busy. The fewer people who know how to work your program, the harder you are to get rid of.

You may or may not have hidden a few kill switches. Job security you call it. Though it’s not exactly first date material to talk about how you’ve got a government agency in a mutual understanding- keep extending your contract, and the program continues to work.

Either way, you don’t have much contact with the soldiers. Maybe you have passed each other in the halls but probably not- you’re certain a face like that wouldn’t have escaped your notice, introduction via a mutual friend or no. But you decide to utilize that mutual friend to shift the conversation. He’s hedged around talking about his work- on his end, sees that as the thing that might be a deal breaker for you. Probably wants to delay that until you've at least gotten your entrees.

So you go from business to hobbies. And it’s probably not entirely fair, but you’re about to see what his sense of humor is.

“Kate mentioned you’re a big soccer fan?” You make sure your expression is wide and doe eyed as you ask the question.

His eyebrow twitches- caught, no doubt, between wanting to leave a good first impression and biting back it’s football over here, love.

You crack far quicker than you initially plan, the wide grin on your face as you let him off the hook he’s good naturedly trying not to bite.

“Beauty, brains, and a comedian, lucky me.”

“I’m sorry, I had to. In fact, it was in her terms for this,” you make a vague gesture with your hand.

“Trust Kate to wheel and deal just to get my blood pressure up,” he muses as he takes a sip from his drink.

The conversation rolls easily enough- an ebb and flow as one of you poses a question, the other answering before allowing the first to say their contribution to the subject and moving on.

He’s charming, attentive, and a good storyteller. The way he carries himself screams military without being overbearing. He’s relaxed back into his chair and something about the scene in front of you makes you want to climb into his lap like a domesticated house cat.

Being the field captain to a specialized task force it’s no shock that he’s in incredible shape and you find yourself slightly distracted on more than one occasion by his hands and forearms.

The food is wonderful though the company is better- you end up moving back to the bar for fresh drinks and to free up the table for the server.

You spend a good length of time just talking with him at the bar.

John’s attention is on you but it’s clear he’s proverbially chewing on something the further on you go.

“That is the look of someone with a question they’re not entirely positive they want an answer to,” you’ve got a habit of being a touch direct at times. Amazing how it streamlines a conversation though.

“Observant one, aren’t you?” He pauses, takes another sip of his drink. “It’s probably none of my business, but ah- is your son’s father in the picture at all?”

It was your turn to take a drink. This was always such a fun topic of conversation. Frankly the number of men who took your ex’s side when the whole custody arrangement gets brought up alarms you.

But he has a right to his son.

Fuck that.

Your child is not property and you do not give a singular shit about your ex’s feelings- especially if it comes at the expense of your son’s safety. But it saves you a substantial amount of time not wasting energy on someone who could not understand the reason for your decisions.

“The short answer to the question is no. I had already left him by the time I found out I was pregnant, and given I left because he’s a raging alcoholic- with the emphasis on the rage-,” what a nice, polite way to say he is an abusive asshole. Your gaze shifts down towards the bartop, missing the way John’s expression softens as he reads between the lines of what you say. They’re not pleasant memories, but you’re not a wounded bird anymore- you’ve tended to your clipped wings and grown new feathers. “I didn’t want him involved.”

“He ended up finding out from a mutual acquaintance, and while he claims he wants to be around, he hasn’t done much other than blow my phone up at midnight trying to throw his weight around every time he gets a new girlfriend. So I get to be the cold blooded harpy that he gets to cry about- which is fine by me. On paper he says he wants to be involved, but he’s made absolutely no effort to arrange plans or anything while sober. I haven’t seen him in over 2 years. I can’t trust him to be a safe parent, and since he’s not on any official records I get final say unless he wants to go to court over it.”

Your whole little house of cards hinges on the fact that your ex wants everyone to bend over backwards for him while doing nothing for anyone else. All it would take would be one subpoena for a paternity test and your hands would be tied. He is an incredibly functional alcoholic, so there isn’t a criminal record or anything you can do to prove he would be unfit. There’s no proof of the abuse he inflicted on you.

Which means, if push comes to shove, you would be forced to relinquish sole custody and hand your child over for unsupervised visitation.

But that requires effort on his part. And that effort is the only thing keeping your little house of cards afloat.

“Sorry that’s probably way more information than you wanted-“ good job. Everything was going great until you laid out your drama.

“No apology necessary; I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”

And there’s no lecture about how you should give your ex a chance, that the opportunity to raise his son could make him change for the better. No dissertation on how you owe it to your son to do whatever it took to make things work with his father (that had been a weird way to end a date, and the only reason you hadn’t gotten up sooner and left was because it was such a bizarre conversation you’d half convinced yourself the whole thing had to be a bad dream).

You’re not a wounded bird and on the one hand it’s a good thing to get everything laid out on the table, but on the other you don’t want to sit and mope about your personal troubles. You’re actually enjoying John Price’s company, and don’t want to think about your problems.

And yes you are enjoying the time for what it is but part of you can’t help but also keep an eye out for… any opportunities for a transition.

As hot under the collar as you are, John’s gaze makes warmth coil in your gut in a way that has nothing to do with the wine- he’s being a gentleman.

It’s sweet. He’s being polite and respectful and showing sexual discipline while making it clear he’s interested.

And for all your bemoaning of prior dates with other men who aren’t captains of specialized task forces about how they were too pushy and too presumptuous and a nice dinner paired with drinks doesn’t entitle them to you dropping your panties—

Yet here you sit, hours into a conversation when you’d decided 15 minutes in you want to jump his bones. And you have to be patient otherwise you’re a total hypocrite.

You’re not entirely subtle. The pair of you are perched on barstools again, much closer than the table allowed you to be with the two of you angled towards each other.

Your dress looks good on you. A jewel toned blue that compliments your skin beautifully, the hemline stopping above your knees and loose enough to bounce tantalizingly when you hit your stride walking.

It’s not exactly an olive branch, but it is an offering of sorts when you carefully take the leg closest to John and cross it over the other. The hemline of your skirt slips up your thigh, exposing more of your leg. It stops just shy of exposing the top of your stockings and the clip to your garter. It does show just a hint of the darker border to your stockings, the lace peeking ever so slightly before transitioning to the sheer material that covers the rest of your legs.

You’re incredibly pleased with yourself when his eyes flick down for a split second and linger before snapping back to your face. Got you. He tries to hide behind being caught with a sheepish clearing of his throat. It’s adorable, really.

Your cheeks are starting to get sore from all the smiling and laughing that’s occurred over the past few hours. But he’s pleasant company so it’s a discomfort you’re happy to deal with.

You look past him for a split second- nothing in particular catching your attention but just taking in the scenery of the restaurant behind you. Your eyes are back on him in a moment only for your brain to process what it saw after a delay.

There’s no fucking way-

Yes. Yes there is. Your ex is mingling in the background, and you don’t even realize the smile on your face has fallen to a flat line like all the previous giddiness is draining out of you and pooling on the floor below.

It would not take a captain of an antiterrorism task force to see your sharp shift in disposition, so John notices immediately.

“Everything alright, love?”

Maybe he won’t see you. Maybe, if there is a God and he is merciful, your ex won’t look in your direction, won’t see you, and you can continue your cheerful plan of trying to seduce your date.

And whether there is not a God or he is just not merciful- either option remains with you having the same shit result. He turns his head and makes direct eye contact. God damn it.

You look back to John. You’d hoped you could move past talking about your ex for the evening. “Remember how I said I haven’t seen my ex in over 2 years?”

There’s a twinge of relief on his face- the look of a man grateful to not be the cause of your displeasure.

“Let me guess- he’s right behind me?”

“Not quite “right behind”, but yes. Hopefully he’ll just-“ a short huff off agitation leaves you as you cut yourself off.

So much for hoping he’d simply mind his business and stay with his group. He’s making his way towards the pair of you at the bar, and you can tell he’s had a good number of drinks in his system just looking at him.

You’d become extremely proficient at gauging how drunk your ex is at a glance. A skill you developed while still with him and one that doesn’t seem to have faded.

This is, you know without question, going to end up being absolutely humiliating for you. You just know it.

“I am going to go ahead and apologize now for whatever is going to come out of his mouth,” you inform John.

His hand finds your knee, giving a light, reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be alright, love.”

“Well what do we have here?” is the warning shot letting you know he’s not going to show any form of civility.

“Hello, Michael,” you greet cooly, mind spinning a hundred miles an hour trying to figure out how to end this conversation as quickly as possible.

“You don’t have time to answer my texts but you’ve got time to go out. That’s good. Good to know you’ve got your priorities in order,” he starts.

“Answering your texts isn’t even remotely on my priority list, you know that.” You’re trying incredibly hard to keep yourself from being outright nasty but a whole lot of old wounds float up to the surface at the sight of your ex.

Maybe your new feathers aren’t as filled out as you’d initially thought. You feel raw and exposed and it’s difficult to think. You know what you should do, how you should handle it- and there’s still that one little part in your brain that is keeping tabs on John and his response to all of this.

“Your priority should be my son-“ he starts,

“-who is with his perfectly capable grandmother for the evening, thank you,” you finish for him, jaw set tightly. “Why are you here?”

The direct question is aggressive but you know the cycle with him too well to allow him to steer the conversation. He’ll run you in circle after circle until you’re so frazzled you can’t discern left from right.

“Can’t say hello and introduce myself to your new fella? Come on now, where’s your manners?”

Your eyes widen as Michael reaches a hand out- there is no way this asshole is about to grab you in public.

Quick as a snake, John runs interference and drapes his arm across the back of your chair, his fingers holding the shoulder furthest from him lightly.

The entire length of your back and shoulders are blocked by the SAS captain, forcing Michael’s hand back as there was no easy place for it to land that wouldn’t also be touching John.

Up until now, John has been quiet and assessing the situation. Not bowing up or trying to assert himself- letting you deal with your ex and navigate the situation for yourself.

The look on his face is downright unpleasant to put lightly. This is the man in charge of an elite task force, who barks orders at soldiers who drop everything at once because he told them to-

-and you don’t feel so exposed anymore. You find yourself sitting up a bit straighter only for John to gently stroke his knuckles against your shoulder in a soothing gesture. The gesture isn’t a miraculously grand one, but one that makes you realize you’re not alone in this situation even as disorienting as it is. And if you’re being honest with yourself, the upright posture and shifting of your thighs isn’t so much a stress response to your ex as you keying in on John’s response to the whole situation.

“John, Michael- Michael, John. There, now you’re introduced.” Go away now please.

Your ex is too drunk and too full of himself to see the writing on the wall, and continues to poke the bear. “Well, since she doesn’t seem to want to give a proper introduction-“ he sticks an arm out, and you can’t help but notice how the simple gesture causes him to need to correct his balance. Good lord it was barely dark out and he’s already-

Well. Not your problem. Not anymore, at any rate.

John is sitting to your left, his right arm the one that’s draped across the back of your chair. The pair of you flash a quick look to each other, John lifting his arm from your chair to take Michael’s hand and-

God.

Damn.

It.

The exchange is actually as hilarious as it is embarrassing (You can’t quite decide if it’s all the second hand cringe variety, or first hand because Look, John! Here’s the father of my child! I sure know how to pick a partner! Is still coiling in the depths of your stomach). You’d prefer if it simply never occurred at all.

You can see your ex’s forearm flexing as he shakes John’s hand. The microexpression that flicks across your date’s face confirms your suspicion- Michael is (for some reason) trying to use an overexaggerated grip to establish some sort of dominance in the situation.

The quick really? that reads on John’s face rapidly turns to a bemused and subtle if that’s how you want to play then, a barely noticeable shift in his own grip resulting in Michael wincing.

“Captain John Price,” his tone is easy, betraying none of the pissing contest your ex instigated and is failing miserably to get one over on John.

Your ex mumbles his full name, clearly realizing that whatever his brilliant little plan is a) isn’t so brilliant to begin with b) he might just be alert enough to acknowledge the fact that he clearly has no true plan. He came over with the intention of being an asshole and has been flying blind the entire time.

There’s one woman from the group your ex split off from who is watching the three of you keenly. If you were to guess, she is probably his new girlfriend.

You can’t help but wonder- does she know enough to know that this is routine behavior for him? That he throws himself headfirst into a situation he hasn’t planned out- isn’t sober enough to plan out? Situations that don’t need to occur just so he can throw his weight around? Too petty to give a genuine “Hello, how are you? It’s been a while. I want to talk to you about Sam when we’ve both got some free time?”

Everything is vindictive. Constantly worrying about not being undermined and being respected to the point he gets in his own way. Actively sabotages his own opportunities. In dire need of therapy to work through his issues because you know the alcohol is how he copes and you’d sympathized at first but the reasons became excuses and then he’d started blaming you and-

-John places his arm on the back of your chair again and you pull yourself out of your mental spiral.

“I think your date is waiting for you, Michael. Best not to keep the lady waiting.” John observes, his tone neutral despite being a clear dismissal.

“You’ll be hearing from me later. I want to see my son.” Michael’s ignoring John’s presence but taking the hint.

You don’t fling a final barb at him. The venom has been drained out of you and you just want the interaction over and done with. Let him have the last word. You just want him gone.

You merely cast a look over at the woman who is Michael’s date for the evening and hope she’s got better sense than you did- that she leaves before he sinks his claws in her too.

The weight that settled in your stomach upon first seeing him is finally lightening up on you. You know you’ll wake up tomorrow to a barrage of phone calls and text messages that you won’t answer. It’s probably not good you’re so desensitized to the idea that it barely registers as a problem. Merely one of life’s many inconveniences.

“You alright, love?” John’s voice helps you shake the last of the tendrils that cling to you.

“Yes. Sorry. Wasn’t expecting to run into him of all people tonight, is all.”

“Never fun being ambushed, is it?”

You take a bit of a risk- you know enough about his job but he’s steered the conversation away from it every time the topic would naturally shift that direction. You know how Kate’s work can go and you assume his is very similar. “Well you’d certainly know more about that than I would.”

It works. The two of you break out in grins, and you find yourself no longer worrying about Michael and your focus readily settling back on John where it belongs.

At some point- long after the single cube in John’s drink has melted, and the condensation of your wine glass has soaked the bev nap underneath it, and more importantly long enough that you don’t feel that you’re fleeing the restaurant- the suggestion is made to go back to John’s. “No more surprises, hm?”

You gladly follow him. You’d taken an Uber to get to the restaurant, anticipating drinking and hoping to go home with him, so you have no worries about your own car.

You can easily see him being the type to give you a quick, chaste kiss on the doorstep after safely dropping you at home. In another universe you’d appreciate the restraint, enjoy fleeting touches over the course of a few dates that get more intense each time before finally finding yourself in his bed.

In this universe however, you don’t have to wait. Don’t want to, either. You get to indulge your earlier impulse of crawling into his lap, knees spread wide on either side of his waist. Lowering your hips allows you to feel him and what exactly he’s packing between his own legs. Your hips cant in short motions and heat coils heavy in your gut.

From the feel of things he’s proportional and John is not a small man. There’s a brief flicker that runs through your mind that you might be in over your head with him. The pent up lust and desire stifles that flicker. You’re more than game to see what a night with him ends up being like.

His hands are warm against your skin- one cupping the back of your head and keeping you close as the pair of you make out, the other settles on your hip and keeps you steady as you grind down on him.

You are possessed with the desire to get his cock in your mouth.

It’s cute how his face follows yours as you pull away from him.

“Help me with my dress?” Your question is perfectly innocent as you turn your back to him, presenting the zipper that runs down the length of your back.

His pleased laugh warms you, a shiver of desire and anticipation running down your spine as his breath fans across the back of your neck.

You’ve got a surprise waiting for him underneath your dress, partially revealed as one of his hands holds the top of the dress steady while the other draws the zipper down.

You gave him the hint you were wearing stockings when you’d baited him back at the restaurant, letting the heavy fabric of the dress fall to a heap around you before kicking it off to one side.

Turning back to face him, John seems quite enraptured with his surprise.

The lingerie set is a matching shade as your jewel toned dress, the garter belt clipping to the sheer black thigh high stockings.

There’s always that split second hesitation when revealing yourself to someone- the anxiety of if they’ll be pleased with what’s presented to them.

John is the first person you’ve been with since you’ve had your child, and the slight anxiety quells quickly at the look on his face.

John looks like he wants to eat you alive. Any insecurity is knocked firmly aside by desire quickly ramping back up.

Placing one hand on his thigh to steady yourself as you lift a leg to take your shoe off, John is quick to stop you. “Leave them on for now, love.”

It’s a request but it’s not. Really that doesn’t surprise you- he is someone who is likely used to having his whims accommodated to. You find yourself having no urge to defy him, nodding in compliance. If John wants your heels to stay on, then they’ll stay.

He guides you between his legs, enough space between his knees for you to slot yourself in. With him sitting on the bed he’s shorter than you standing straight up in your heels. Bending down to give a quick, teasing kiss you let yourself drop to your own knees.

“You don’t have to-“

“I want to,” you assure him with doe eyes and are rewarded with him settling into the bed as your hands go to work on his belt.

Unable to resist teasing him, you mouth at his bulge through the thick fabric of his pants. You’re rewarded with a soft cant of his hips, having his belt undone and working on the button and zip of his pants in record time.

Your earlier suspicions are correct. John is a big boy in more ways than one. You want him in your mouth- now.

While you’re occupying yourself with getting his pants off, John shucks his shirt and shoes.

He is, simply put, delicious to look at. From the broad muscling to the thick dark hair running from his chest down his abdomen. He doesn’t have the hard chiseled abs of a man who lives in the gym but the sturdy build that comes from having useful, functional muscle that’s put to work.

And that’s incredibly hot. He’s girthy as hell in your hand as you give a few strokes before putting your mouth on him.

You’re not entirely certain if deep throating him is going to be an option, but by God you’re going to try.

“Bloody hell, love.” John grunts while you bob your head up and down the length of him. You’re gauging just how much of him you can get in your mouth- where your threshold is before your gag reflex wants to kick in.

He’s petting you. Doubtless trying to fight the urge to fist your hair, his hips struggling to stay still on the bed.

You want him to. You feel feral, all the pent up sexual energy you’ve been storing for God-knows-how-long welling up all at once. You want this man carnally and your brain presently thinks having your hair held in place and your throat fucked is a fantastic idea.

John clearly has other plans, restraining himself and letting you work at your own pace. That low, deep breathing paired with his soft grunts and voiced encouragements stoke the flames of your arousal hotter.

Eventually you do need air, pulling off of him for a moment. Your hand works his shaft and teases the tip of him as you lean forward to run your tongue up and down the length of him, dropping a bit lower to lave at his heavy sac. He jolts which only encourages you to do it again.

You know your eyes are one of your better features- you’ve heard the compliment enough times both in and out of the bedroom, holding John’s gaze as you lick him back up the length of his shaft and circle the head once before having caught your breath enough to wrap your lips around him once more.

The second time around you’re able to get a bit more of him down your throat, but not all the way. What you can’t reach you stroke with one hand, the other resting on his thigh to help balance yourself as you work. You can feel the tension building in his thigh as he gets closer, pleased with yourself.

It’s a heady feeling. You don’t know exactly all the dirty details of his job but understand enough to know you’ve got a powerful man at your whim right now and that scratches a deep seated itch in you.

“Good girl,” his praise washes over you, warm and welcoming. “Just like that-“

You’re intent on sucking the soul out of him, all doe eyes and hollowed cheeks with those painted red lips. Eventually he gives into the urge to grab a fistful of your hair. He doesn’t do anything to interrupt the rhythm you’ve settled into, letting you move as you see fit.

He bites out your name and you feel the muscles in his leg drawn tight. “I’m getting close, love.”

It’s not quite a question. You give your not-answer by doubling down on him. You’re so close to having him in your mouth all the way to the base. You don’t want to back off. What you do want is for him to finish down your throat.

You get your wish. John’s fist tightens and you let out a grunt as his thrusting results in your nose pressed against his public bone.

The taste of him doesn’t really register as he spills inside your mouth, your focus on breathing through your nose and keeping your gag reflex down.

He’s petting your hair again, praises falling freely from him and soft apologizes. “Lost myself for a moment there, love. You alright?”

You keep your mouth hilted on him for a moment to prove a point- you’re fine, he didn’t push you past threshold- before finally releasing his softening cock.

He’s pulling you up to him after that, an open mouthed kiss that flusters you considering he just came in your mouth. “You’re just a treasure,” his voice purrs in your ear. “Only fair I return the favor, hm?”

He guides you to lay on the bed, knees hanging over the edge before he turns to settle between your legs.

He starts at your neck. You’re ticklish at one spot his lips, squirming in his hold with a giggle. “Sensitive, hm?”

You nod out a “mhm,” that breaks into a breathy moan as he works his way down your chest. Rather than removing your bra his hands work to pull your breasts free from the cups before paying particular attention to your nipples.

His hands are warm as they roam your ribcage, the heat of his body seeping through the lace of your outfit as his fingers trail across your skin and the delicate material.

“You’re so soft, love,” you don’t quite know how to respond to the compliment, mewling wordlessly in pleasure at the attention.

That seems to appease him as he kisses his way down your sternum and to your belly, the expanse of most of it covered by the fabric of the garter belt.

His eyes flick up to your own as his lips travel closer to the apex of your thighs. Where you’ve been lying patient and pliant in his grasp, the eye contact draws something tight in your core and you squirm again.

The next thing you feel is teeth as he nips you. “Be a good girl for me,” he tells you, soothing the soft throb of his bite with his tongue.

You force yourself to still as he moves lower, lower, lower- taking his time and having you thoroughly worked up before moving to the next patch of skin.

When he’s down far enough he slides one of your thighs over his shoulder, that arm looping under your arm and banding across your abdomen.

It’s his turn now to mouth at your clothed sex.

He pulls the gusset of your thong aside after a moment of teasing, his lips descending on you.

“Oh,” your hand immediately finds purchase in his hair, a pleased whimper escaping you at the feel of John’s tongue.

John feasts on you. There’s not much else that can be done to describe it. It’s lewd and wet as he laps at you, the flesh of his tongue doing little to soothe the burning ache inside you and only ramping it up.

Those eyes are wicked as he gazes up at you from between your thighs. The hand resting on your lower stomach is pressing ever so lightly, like John wants the pressure there but not too much yet and you’re once again struck with the idea you might be in over your head with him.

“John, please,” you beg. It feels good but you need more, lust clouding your brain as your hips rock against his face.

“You need to be patient, love. I’ll take care of you. Just relax, hm?”

It dawns on you that he’s probably running down the clock until his refractory period is up. That he doesn’t want to get you going too quick and then be stuck not quite ready to perform.

It’s an assumption, and you’re not 100% sure that you’re correct, but it’s a solid enough option that you move forward with that in mind.

The thought almost makes it easier to relax into the bed- the idea that John is going to pleasure you with his mouth until enough time has passed and he can get it up again. That he’s not just mindlessly toying with you with no end goal in mind.

It feels good you’re just stuck being greedy and wanting more stimulation despite knowing that won’t happen until John decides he’s ready to give you more.

You almost jump when the fingers you’ve been waiting for make their presence known. His mouth moves to focus on your clit, lips making a seal and sucking on it. You cry out, hips canting as his fingers gently rub at your labia.

He starts with one, gently sliding it in and out of you. Your back arches in satisfaction of having something to clench on and rub against. It’s more satisfying than just one of your own- that was for sure.

“That’s it love,” John praises you while easing a second one into you.

The second finger is what you were looking for, stimulation wise. John pets and strokes you, thumb gently working over your clit in soft circles before putting his mouth back on you.

He doesn’t just find your g-spot. John’s fingers are placed so they hone in on that spongy bit of tissue tucked inside you. He doesn’t let up on it, tongue working on your clit as you arch your back helplessly and moan.

That pressure is back on your abdomen, the hand not currently stroking you to nirvana pressing down on your belly.

You moan and buck against his hold. Your orgasm is creeping up on you and it’s like he’s determined to make you squirt.

“You keep that up and I’m gonna make a mess,” you warn him- not entirely certain how he’ll respond to the prospect of you squirting on his face.

John looks delighted and you realize that yes, you are in over your head with him.

There’s a mischievous glint in his eye as he pulls back from you, “You promise, love? Don’t tease me.”

Oh dear God- Next thing you know he’s reaching over you to pull a pillow from the top of the bed, wedging it underneath your hips before returning to his place between your thighs.

You’re flustered at how eager he is to see you squirt. His mouth is back on you, sucking on your clit and making your legs shake as two fingers go right back to abusing your g-spot, his free hand pressing on your belly increasing the pressure that is mounting by the second.

There’s nothing else for you to do but grab a fistful of his hair and hang on. “Please- oh! J-John! Right there,” at your encouragement he locks in on the spot that’s got you arching your back and your thighs trembling.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Show me,” he’s moaning encourments against your skin and you feel like a bow drawn tight and ready to snap. You’re so, so close.

The sounds he draws out of you- both from your mouth and between your legs- are filthy and vulgar and you don’t care at all as he gets you teetering just on the edge.

You’re practically gasping for breath, eyes screwing shut as the hand not buried in John’s hair fists the sheets next to you. You babble his name, chants of John all your brain can muster.

All that pressure coiling in you snaps and gushes out, literally and metaphorically.

“Good girl, making such a mess for me,” John’s praise has you flushing hot while his fingers work you like he’s making sure he can wring out every single last drop.

He stops when you have nothing left to give him, a trembling mess shivering in his hold.

Your brain at some point made the windows shut down noise, needing a moment to settle as you process what John just did to you.

This is the hardest you’ve cum in ages, certainly better than the orgasms you’ve given yourself during your little dry spell.

You return to the land of the living with his lips on yours, tasting yourself as he soothingly strokes your side. “You back with me?” He asks, eliciting a nod from you.

“Please tell me you have a condom,” your tone is pleading. You still want to ride him but you’ve learned your lesson about practicing safe sex. Once was, in fact, all it took for things to go off the rail.

“I do,” he stands, moving to the nightstand and opening a drawer.

Now that your legs feel somewhat compliant you sit yourself back up.

No sooner than John’s got the condom on then you’re guiding him back down, having him lay on the edge of the bed.

It takes a bit of maneuvering, getting yourself situated so your heels don’t catch on his sheets, but you’re straddling him with the leg closest to the edge of the bed hanging over the side as the opposite leg folds underneath you. You hover over him while getting everything lined up. The position of your legs allows you to alternate which one is supporting the brunt of your weight, a factor that is going to be fairly important once you’ve hilted yourself on John.

Even with how pliant your body is it takes a moment for the head of him to breach you.

“Oh,” you let out a breath as you sink down on him. You’re not able to get all the way to the base of him on the first go, getting your weight underneath yourself and lifting almost completely off of him before dropping down again. You get a little further this time, a moan escaping you.

“That’s it, love. Nice and easy,” his voice coos in your ear, that low timber having you liable to melt.

He’s thick. Not in a way that’s insurmountable to manage, but you have absolutely no complaints with how he fills you and anticipate being pleasantly sore in the morning.

Two more slow bounces have you sinking low enough to hilt yourself on him, taking a moment to enjoy the sensation of sitting fully on his lap.

One of his hands braces on your hip, the other his thumb circles your clit. You squirm at the stimuli, relishing in the feel of him before getting to work.

This is what you’ve been drooling over all night. Your reward is very well earned in your opinion. Moaning lowly as you bounce up and down, your movements are initially slow and languid but pick up speed as you get your bearings. John’s heavy exhales and grunts when you clench only serve to wind you tighter.

“You feel good, pretty girl? Hm? You like bouncing on my cock?”

You flush- a ridiculous notion given how you’re quite literally hilted on his dick-, face hot from the dirty talk.

The hand on your hip helps guide you to a pace that’s pleasurable for the both of you, eyes rolling as he thrusts his hips in a way that makes you see stars. “Yes! John- yes! Oh it feels so good,” your voice a low purr as he delivers on every fantasy you’ve had this evening.

The stretch of him in you feels absolutely incredible, knocking the air out of you on each bounce. It doesn’t take long until that knot begins to form again, growing steadily as you rise and fall in his lap. The press of his finger circling your clit draws staggered moans, bracing on him for support.

“Been thinking about this all night,” John grits out. “Wanted to flip you over the bar top and have my way with you right there on the dining room floor.”

You moan at the confession, feeling less like a rabid dog with no impulse control now you know you’re not alone in the intense desire that had struck once you’d laid eyes on him.

“Probably wouldn’t have- ah! st-stopped you,” you tell him. The grip on your hip tightens at that, another moan escaping you as you bounce on him.

Your eyes roll in pleasure, cunt practically fluttering from the way he keeps getting you to clench. The thickness of his girth doesn’t just let him keep hitting that spot in you with lift of your hips so much as the mushroom tipped head of his cock drags across it.

“Aren’t you just a fucking treasure,” he praises.

Your thighs are burning, eased by the position of your legs and John’s grip helping you but becoming more present with each wet clap of your sex against his lap. It almost helps you tip closer to another climax.

Your eyes squeeze shut, a staggered breath escaping you.

“Eyes on me,” he tells you and you comply immediately.

“John, please I’m so close,” your thighs are shaking again, threatening your already precarious balance.

“You need more, pretty girl?”

You shake your head. “No-no. Just don’t stop. Please don’t stop!”

And bless him, he doesn’t do anything to fuck up your rhythm. The fingers circling your clit keep the same tempo and pressure perfectly, his free hand still helping guide you up and out of his lap before sitting you back down.

You know you’re about to come but are caught off guard by how sharp it is as you squirt for a second time.

The sight of you spurting across his abdomen nearly severs any control John has left. The next thing you know John’s abandoned your overstimulated clit in favor of rolling you onto your back, your heels clattering to the floor from the motion. Your legs go instinctively to clamp around his waist for security- only one of them does, the other stopped by wet fingers gripping your thigh by your knee as he spreads you open. His weight is held on the forearm bracing next to your head by the time you process the shift in position.

“You alright, pretty girl?”

You can’t quite get your words out but manage a nod. “Ye-yeah,” you eventually stagger out as he waits for a verbal confirmation.

With the comfort that you were fine, that gives John the assurance he needs to seek his own pleasure.

More than satisfied with your two climaxes, you lay limp and pliant in his grasp while he chases his own end.

The wet squelch of his cock splitting you open with each thrust was loud and obscene although you were too far gone in the blissed out pleasure to care. Your whole body feels delightfully tingly, your head swimming pleasantly.

You clench down on him a few times, more for his benefit than anything else. You’re spent but more than willing to help him across the finish line as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muttering praises that are punctured with short, sharp thrusts before he stiffens as his own climax hits.

The two of you have both broken into a light sheen of sweat by the end of things. After a moment to recuperate John stands with a “I’ll be right back.” (And you unabashedly enjoy the view of his ass while he retreats to the bathroom.)

True to his word he returns shortly, evidently having disposed of the condom with a towel in hand for you.

The pair of you get yourselves clean and sorted. Before you can decide how you want to ask, John seems to already know what the question is.

“You don’t need to leave, do you?”

Again it’s not entirely a question, but still gives you an out if you want to take it.

You don't want to take the out.

#john price x reader #captain john price #john price #x single mom reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #my writing #now I gotta name this bitch because I totally plan on a whole series and the other characters can’t be calling her love all the time lmao #i wrote and coded this whole thing on my phone because my laptop has once again quit on me

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seresinhangmanjake · 7 days

Text

Stolen Angel - Part 4

Demon!Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too.

Words: 1793

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

“You didn't eat.”

You don’t flinch at the intrusion of his voice, not this time. While it was peaceful without his deep tone in your ear, you knew him finding you was inevitable, and honestly, you’re surprised it took him this long. Although, it’s possible that he didn’t need to find you at all; he could have been watching you from afar. Just because you haven’t seen his face in almost twenty-four hours doesn’t mean he hasn’t seen yours, and you’ve certainly provided him with an unobstructed view. But then you wonder why he hasn’t dragged you back to your room.

You weren’t going to run. You just needed to see it, feel it, for yourself. Maybe that’s why he’s let you be; why he’s not scolding you until your brain melts. Maybe he knows that you won’t have logic overpowering your emotions when it comes to this, because even if you had some semblance of which direction to go in, you wouldn’t know what to do once you got there. To be anywhere other than here, like it or not you need him. You need his guidance and support, and worst of all, his permission.

“I ate some of it,” you confess.

“Not enough,” he says.

When he steps in front of you, his body eclipses the sun. The field around you untouched by his shadow still radiates its vibrant shades while you sit in the darkness he is creating. You look up, and his blond hair is glowing almost blindly from the backlight of the sun.

“Why are you out here, Angel?”

You turn your attention to your hand that’s nestled in the grass. “I had to see if it was real,” you say softly as you twirl your finger around a green blade.

He hums. “And are you satisfied with what you've found?”

Satisfied? You could scoff. What a foolish question; a disrespectful question. You can’t be satisfied with what you don’t understand. Feeling the dirt between your fingers and toes doesn’t provide you with the wealth of clarity he has been denying you. Clarity that you’re owed.

“Come on,” he says at your lack of reply, reaching out a hand. “Out of the grass.”

“Tell me what this place is,” you say.

“I can explain it to you later. You’re not completely healed and we need to—”

“No,” you snap, meeting his eyes. “Now. Explain it to me now.”

Jake sighs, his hand dropping back to his side. “Angel—”

“I could become a lot more difficult, you know.”

He lets out a huff of a chuckle. Little crinkles form in the corners of his eyes. “Yes, I do know.”

“Then tell me.”

His smile settles. He mutters something under his breath before he glances over your head to the structure behind you. When you turn to get a look at what has stolen his attention, you find only an empty doorway.

“You want me to like you, don’t you?” you ask, knowing that will draw him back to you.

A blond brow raises in curiosity and suspicion. “This will make you like me?”

“It would help,” you lie. “The truth is important to me, and I don’t understand how you can expect me to want to be here if I have no clue what ‘here’ is.”

As he bites the inside of his cheek, you begin to worry that the promise of your affection is not a strong enough offer—that he might want more than just your words, he’ll want proof that you intend to follow through with what you say by your actions—but then he turns where he stands and lowers himself into the grass beside you. He’s close, and when his wing brushes over yours as he makes himself comfortable, he’s quick to pull it away, as if your feathers could set his aflame.

Clearing his throat, he runs a hand through his hair before he rests his elbows on his bent knees. “It’s called The Tower,” he eventually says. “It was a prison, technically, until about two months ago.”

“A prison,” you repeat. “How fitting.”

He shoots you a look. You’ve offended him and you need to reign yourself in. “If you bothered to behave, it wouldn’t have to feel like one,” he informs you.

You hold back from rolling your eyes. You’re the textbook definition of a prisoner and you both know it. He can deny it to your face all he wants, but you have a right to feel like this place is a prison, even if it doesn’t exactly have the look of a prison. At least, not where you’re from. You don’t know of many ‘cells’ that include wardrobes, open windows, double beds with thick coverings, and fireplaces. Before you left your room you were imagining many possibilities for the cage you’ve been kept in, but among those were large estate or small castle, not a home for the naughty winged people.

“It’s awfully fancy for a prison,” you say.

“Our offenses weren’t so horrible.”

Our?

Your brows almost shoot off your forehead until you take a half-second to soak it in and then accept the shame of being shocked. “Of course, you’re a criminal,” you say, nodding to yourself. “Did you kidnap a few other innocents and turn them into monsters, too?”

Jake doesn’t look you in the eye as he swallows hard, so you turn your head back to the horizon. “You’re not a monster, Angel. You’re perfect,” he tells you, then shakes his head. “But no. There were no others. I broke a rule—the same rule—a few times, which got me three separate six-month sentences in five years. Four months into my last one, the prison was dissolved here and set up elsewhere. Everyone was released; I stayed.”

Your brow pinches. “Why would you stay in the place you were captive?”

“I liked my room—well, your room right now. I liked the view. I thought it would be a good place for us once you joined me,” he says. “Secluded. Intimate.”

Stomach flipping, your heartbeat gives a sharp thud. Instinctually, you think to move away, make an early retreat back to your room, but for once he’s actually answering your questions and you can’t sacrifice that in case you’re never given the same chance.

“What was the rule that you broke?” you ask.

“Out past curfew, so to speak.”

“Out where?”

Jake goes silent, contemplating, then he says, “That's enough for now.”

But it’s not enough for you. “Out where?” you press to no response, so with a huff, you push off the ground to stand.

He grabs your wrist as you’re about to take a step. “Sit,” he says. “I'll tell you if you stay.”

Subtly smirking at the win, you return to the grass.

Jake blows out a breath. “The Below,” he tells you.

“The Below…” You roll the words around on your tongue. They mean nothing to you until Jake makes a face like he might come to regret what he’s just done, and then they mean everything. “My world?”

Jake groans. “How many times do I have to tell you that that is not your—”

“You were there more than just that one time?” you interrupt, stunned that you momentarily forgot that your home is where he met you. It must have been the anger or fear or lasting daze from the week of pain, but somehow it didn’t register that you could potentially return as well. “How?”

“No more questions,” he scolds.

“But I thought you wanted me to like you,” you counter.

Shifting to sit on your hip with your legs bent at your side, you set your hand on top of his. He stares at the new touch, then his thumb begins to rub along the line of your index finger in soft, slow motions.

He doesn’t stop his staring. He doesn’t stop his thumb’s gentle caressing. “Yes, I was there more than just that one time.”

Despite your carefully restrained excitement at the plethora of new information, you forget the game you’re playing and jerk your hand away from his just as he’s about to intertwine your fingers. “So you can go whenever you want?” you ask. “Then take me.”

At the demand, his teeth clench, jawline sharpening. “No, I cannot go whenever I want, and no, I am not taking you.”

“Why not!”

“Because you are right where you should be,” he says decisively.

You feel his heightening irritation, so you quickly place your palm on his shoulder and slide it down to his toned bicep where it stays.

“I just want to see it,” you tell him before you scoot yourself closer to his side, your hip a couple inches shy of pressing against his. He looks down to where your bodies are nearly touching, then back up at you. You try a light smile. “Please, Jake.”

His eyes lock on to your smile, your lips. He darts his tongue out to wet his own, and you prepare yourself for the kiss you’re sure he’s about to give you—a kiss you won’t say no to if it helps get you home—but it’s a kiss that never comes. He just thinks; drinks in your smile and thinks.

The green of his irises in the sunlight is overwhelming when directed at you for such a long pause, and you don’t initially notice when he opens his mouth.

“If you show me that you can listen to me and do as I tell you, I’ll consider it,” he finally says.

Your head flinches back, mind immediately going to the worst of what he could want from you. “What will you be telling me to do?”

“To start, you’re going back inside. You haven’t finished healing and because you took yourself on a little adventure, you stressed your wing and now part of it is inflamed. You need rest.”

You must have been so mentally preoccupied that you blocked out all physical transmission to your brain because it’s only when he says it that you feel the return of the ache.

“And you’re going to eat,” he continues. “Everything, this time.”

“Fine,” you relent.

“You’re going to wear something made of more comfortable fabric than that,” he gestures to your smock, “And you’re going to stop arguing with me over every damn thing. You can’t change what’s been done, so being pissed at me doesn’t do you any good.”

It takes extra effort to muster up an agreement to that last one. Your swallow you can only compare to trying to get down a sponge soaked in wet cement. “Fine,” you grit out.

“Fine,” he says, standing. He extends his hand out toward you again. “Let’s see if you’re capable of behaving, Angel.”

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw @fandom-life-12 @hookslove1592 @buckysteveloki-me @eloquentdreamer

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #demon!jake seresin x reader #top gun au #tgm fic #jake seresin smut #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst

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orphicdreamers-wp · 3 months

Text

No Caller ID — Travis Kelce

Summary: In which you find your phone ringing at 3 in the morning

Content Warning; drunken phone calls, mentions of Christmas 2023 Chiefs Vs Raiders game, mentions of the Jan 21st Bills Vs Chiefs game, mentions of Travis and Taylor, moving on fast, breakup, Travis being a shitty boyfriend, angst, emotional cheating if you squint, physical cheating(Travis and reader kiss while in diff relationships) , reader moves on with Dylan O’Brien

Pairing: Travis Kelce & Model! Reader

December 26th 2023.

A small yawn emitted from your lips as you sat up in your bed. You reached your freshly manicured red nails on your beside table for your ringing cell phone. You finally grasped the phone as a new call began to filter through. It was an blocked number which caused you to frown slightly as you pressed the phone to your ear, “Hello?” Travis’ familiar voice filled your ears, “Hi pretty.” You frowned at the football players drunken slur, “Why are you calling me Trav?” Travis hummed softly as he glanced down at the blonde woman sleeping in bed next to him, “I miss you angel.” You sat up as a frown tugged at your lips, “You have a girlfriend Trav. A beautiful girlfriend who adores you.”

Travis slowly moved from the bed to avoid startling Taylor awake as he moved from Taylor’s bedroom to her living room, “She’s not you angel, she’s great but she’ll never be you.” You shook your head as you pulled your sweater closer to your body, “Dude, every news outlet is reporting you two are looking at houses together, talking about kids and marriage. I cannot be the girl who takes any Taylor Swift’s happy ending. I won’t be that person.” Travis sighed as he leaned into the couch further, “I had a really shitty game tonight. I wish you could have been there for me.”

You awkwardly smiled at his change of topic, “I watched the game. You played fine Trav. You aren’t the backbone of the team. No matter how well you play on your own, you can’t impact the entire team’s ability. It’s not on you.” Travis hummed, “Are you excited for Fashion Week?” You hummed as you took a sip of your water, “I have a Vogue event the first week of the new year. I’m also hosting the Golden Globes so I’m pretty excited about where my career is now.” Travis hummed as he stroked Meredith’s fur, “So no one special?” You frowned slightly at the hint of amusement in his tone, “I’ve gone on a few dates. I’ve been seeing a guy for about a month.”

Travis hummed, “I saw. What was his name, Dylan something? I saw some paparazzi photos.” You hummed, “O’Brien. I’m surprised your girlfriend hasn’t said anything she and Dylan are pretty close.” Travis let out a harsh sigh, “Whatever, there’s no way he’ll be good enough for you.” You scoffed under your breath, “Well, this was a refreshing conversation. Goodnight Travis.” Travis stammered as you were about to hang up, “I’m sorry I called. I shouldn’t have.” You hummed slightly as you heard Taylor’s muffled voice on the other side of the call, “You’re right Travis you shouldn’t have called.”

Taylor yawned softly as she emerged from the bedroom to find her boyfriend engrossed in a phone call, “Trav what’s going on?” The football player smiled kindly at her, “Don’t worry. It was my dad, I forgot how late it was. Go back to sleep.” Taylor smiled down at Travis, “Come back to bed with me.” Travis pressed a kiss to her lips, “I’ll be in soon.” Taylor retreated to her room as Travis opened his instagram to your page.

Instagram!!

yourusername; a good ending to this year💕

dylanobrien; the prettiest model ever

— yourbrother: dyl has top tier rizz 😆

user3929; dylan and y/n is almost as iconic as travis and taylor

— user493: i love this bc travis and y/n broke up like 2 months before trav and tay were spotted out together and dyl was in the atwtmv mv

taylorswift; iconic couple!!

kendalljenner: mom and dad?? is that you?

— yourusername: i miss you kenny💕

haileybieber: noo!! my wife has a boyfriend?

— yourusername: my girlfriend has a husband??

zendaya: my girl🥹🥹

— yourusername: my z💕💕💕

sydneysweeney; your so beautiful y/n

— yourusername: i love you syd!! so grateful to know you💕💕

January 22nd 2024

A small groan elicited from Dylan’s lips as he rested his arms across your waist while the two of you tried to sleep. Dylan had grown up in New York and you had grown up in Buffalo so he practically begged you to go to the Chiefs vs Bills game the night before. You reluctantly agreed, as it would be the first Chiefs game you went to since you and Travis broke up. You’d been with Travis since his rookie year in the NFL so it was hard for you to go from being at almost every game to none.

Something had gotten leaked to a media outlet about you and Dylan attending the game. So Brittany, who’d become one of your best friends during your relationship with Travis, invited you guys to sit in the box with her and some other friends and family of the Chiefs players. Which was how you ended up in the suite with your boyfriend, your ex boyfriend’s girlfriend, his parents, brother and sister in law. You found yourself easily conversing with Taylor which you hated because you felt guilty about the call you had gotten from Travis a month earlier.

Your phone blared through the serene air in your hotel room. You reached for the culprit of the blaring noise and pressed it to your ear without checking who was calling, “Yeah?” Travis’ voice sounded a lot more clear compared to the last 3 am call, “Hey, can we talk?” You frowned as you pressed a kiss to Dylan’s arm and excused yourself, “Sure what’s up?” Travis awkwardly rubbed a hand across his face, “I meant more so in person? I’m staying at the Marriott Hotel in Buffalo I can meet you for a late dinner there?”

You frowned slightly as you looked at your boyfriend who was half asleep in the bed, “I’ll give you an hour. I’m staying at the Marriott too. I have to get dressed but I’ll be down in a few.” Travis looked at the blonde woman sleeping in the hotel bed, the woman he’d grown to truthfully believe could be the one. He just needed to make sure the chapter with you was closed for good. He nodded, “I appreciate it.” You pulled on a pair of jeans and one of Dylan’s hoodies. Dylan stirred in the bed, “Where are you going?” You smiled softly, “I’m gonna go talk to a friend for a bit. I’ll be back soon Dyl.” Dylan hummed as he kissed you, “Okay. Love you.” You smiled to yourself as you left the hotel room.

You slid into the booth seat across from Travis, “Hey T.” Travis looked up from his phone at your voice, “Hey, I ordered you a Dr Pepper, mozzarella sticks and the grilled chicken strips I hope that’s okay.” You nodded, “That’s fine. I’ll pay you back.” Travis waved you off, “Don’t worry about it. How’d you like the game?” You laughed softly, “You played pretty well. Jason was off the walls. I swear I thought your mom was going to pull out a leash for him.” Travis laughed as heat rose up your cheeks, “He’s something else sometimes. Did the boyfriend have a good time?”

You smiled fondly at the mention of your boyfriend, “Dylan’s not super into football but he seemed into it today.” Travis smiled as the waiter brought over the food and set it in front of you guys, “He seemed to be getting on with Kylie and Britt.” You nodded as you took a sip of the soda, “Yeah. I’m sorry I haven’t been to many games this season. Kinda doesn’t feel like my place anymore.” Travis smiled widely, his natural charm taking over for a split second, “I always want beautiful models cheering for me.”

You buried your head in your palms, “You’re awful Kelce.” You and Travis fell into casual conversation about your work and his hopes for the Super Bowl this year. Eventually you found yourselves walking to the elevator to go back upstairs to your rooms. As soon as the elevator door shut Travis’ lips were on yours. Before it could register to you, you were reciprocating the kiss. You pulled away almost immediately and stared at Travis in silence as the elevator continued it’s crawl to your floor. Travis opened his mouth, “You can’t tell me that meant nothing.” You cut him off as the elevator dinged and opened, “Don’t.” You walked away before he could get another word in.

You opened the door to your shared hotel room with Dylan and tears filled your lash line. You pulled off the jeans and slipped into your pajama pants and laid on the couch in the room. You couldn’t find it in your heart to wake Dylan up to tell him, so you laid on the couch and waited for him to wake up. He eventually stirred awake and sat up, his vision noticing you on the couch watching him, “What is it beautiful?” You shook your head, “I’m so sorry. It was a mistake, I love you.”

Dylan furrowed an eyebrow as he raced to your side to console you, “What is it Y/N?” You burst into a sob, “I don’t know why I agreed to meet with him. We can never be friends. I’m a horrible person and an even worse girlfriend.” Dylan placed either of his hands on your cheeks, “You shouldn’t have met who baby?” You sniffled, “Travis, that’s who called me. He wanted to talk and I figured it would be as friends but when we were in the elevator we kissed. I’m awful how could I let myself do that to you? Your perfect for and I just screw it up like I always do. I don’t think we should be together anymore. I’m no good for you.”

Dylan wiped your tears, “Did it mean anything to you? The kiss?” You shook your head as you turned away from Dylan, unable to look at him anymore, “No but that doesn’t matter I still did it.” Dylan shook his head as he pulled you into his arms, “I love you and I know that whenever I kiss you here.” He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck which earned an unexpected laugh from you. Dylan smiled, “You giggle. I know that whenever I kiss you I feel like I can’t breathe. I know this and every kiss we have ever shared means something. I don’t care about a stupid mistake you made.” You sniffled as you melted into his arms, “I’m so so sorry Dylan. I shouldn’t have met him tonight.” Dylan shrugged as he pulled you off the couch and carried you to the bed, “Maybe so. We can fight about that tomorrow. Let’s sleep.”

February 14th 2024

Travis hadn’t heard from you since the awkward kiss in the elevator. He had told Taylor about the kiss and they’d fought over it and eventually made up. So when Travis was sat beside Taylor on Valentine’s Day as she scrolled through her instagram page. A certain post made Travis open his phone himself and find your instagram account. Your most recent post earned a heart warming smile from him.

Instagram!

yourusername; mrs dylan o’brien sounds ok i guess🤷‍♀️

user392: elopement?!?!

dylanobrien; official vogue first man

— yourusername: someone get my husband off of tiktok😒

taylorswift; i love love💚

— yourusername: we love you tay💚💚

killatrav: y/n o’brien has a ring to it!

— yourusername: thank you mr kelce🙂

— killatrav: of course mrs o’brien🙃🙃

user8713: tayvis & dylan and y/n is my roman empire, like imagine if travis and y/n never broke up. would this be dylan and tay?

#nfl #nfl player #nfl player x reader #travis kelce #tk87 #travis #tayvis #taylor swift #dylan obrien #no caller id #angst #drunk call #3am #travis kelce x reader #travis x reader #travis kelce x you #travis kelce x y/n

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our-happygirl500-fan · 1 year

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During the opening of the movie Casey Junior looses his Sensei (the future version of Leo) & while I am by no means an expert on grief throughout the movie it could be argued that Casey Junior is going through something close to the five stages of grief over that loss.

Stage 1: Denial

Casey Junior: How am I gonna save them all, Sensei? I really wish you were here. Wait, you are! I just need to find you

When Casey Junior finds himself in the past/ present he struggles to know what to do after the loss of his Sensei who had most likely been there to guide him his whole life, however when Casey Junior begins to contemplate that he will now have to live without his Sensei there to help him, he immediately backtracks when he realises that the past/ present versions of Leo is still alive.

Casey Junior: You told me to find the key and stop the Krang

Casey Junior: That’s exactly how you freed all those families from the Krang labour camp

There are multiple moments where Casey Junior talks to Leo as if he’s the same Master Leonardo that trained him because there’s a part of Casey Junior that doesn’t want to admit that his Sensei is gone so he’s trying to act as though nothing has changed by treating Leo the same way he would treat ‘Master Leonardo’

Stage 2: Anger

Casey Junior: The world needs Master Leonardo. And all we got is this guy

When Leo isn’t able to be exactly the same as the Master Leonardo that Casey Junior knew however, Casey Junior responds in anger to Leo’s actions.

Part of this scene is Casey Junior being frustrated with Leo’s actions but it’s also possible that part of his anger also comes from the fact that Casey Junior is realising that even if he treats Leo like his Sensei, Leo can’t act like the man he knew as the past/ present Leo hasn’t had the experiences that made ‘Master Leonardo’

Stage 3: Bargaining

Casey Junior: Leo, please! I can’t loose you again

The confrontation between Leo & Casey Junior gives Leo the push he needs to step up as a leader & Leo begins acting more like the version of Leonardo that Casey Junior knew

Future Leonardo: We’ve still got a ninja’s greatest weapon... hope.

Leo: We still have hope!

Casey Junior: A ninja’s greatest weapon

Leo: Hey I like that

After Leo displays traits that remind Casey Junior of Leo’s future self Casey Junior begins to occasionally call Leo ‘sensei’ again because even though Casey Junior has realised that Leo isn’t the same as the man that trained him & that his sensei is gone, he still sees pieces of his sensei in Leo which makes him want to hold onto Leo as the last pieces of his sensei that he has left

Leo: When I get to the other side, you close that door

Casey Junior: What? Sensei, no!

Even though Casey Junior is no longer trying to pretend as though nothing has changed & act like Leo & ‘Master Leonardo’ are the exact same people, Casey Junior is still wants to hold onto something close to what he’s lost.

Stage 4: Depression

When Leo sacrifices himself & Casey looses the last piece of his Sensei that he had left, all he can do is break down in grief

Stage 5: Acceptance

Towards the end of the movie Casey is shown to be part of the present Hamato Clan with a new family picture taken to include him, even though Casey might still be mourning the family he lost he’s slowly but surely healing along with the family that he has now

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles #casey jones junior #casey jones jr #casey jones #rottmnt #tmnt

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99hook · 9 months

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Insufferable | Part Two

Synopsis: Two people who swear they hate each other’s guts but still can’t leave each other alone.

Warnings: angst, pining, oral (female and male receiving) choking, Tyler is still arrogant and still has that filthy mouth, YN is still a smart ass who brings him to his knees. Also, jealous!hook. An injury and some blood too.

A/N: you guys really wanted this and I couldn’t resist writing it. I just wanna let you know that I read all of your suggestions for this and they’re all incorporated in this filthy fic. So I hope you enjoy and if you’re lost right now, you can read part one here! 🫶🏼

Proceed with caution cause there’s like 2 different smut scenes 😮‍💨

You had a couple of little secrets now. Things you couldn’t tell your friends no matter how bad you wanted to, simply because for the longest time you swore you hated everything about that man. You still do, but it’s a weird kind of hatred you feel towards him, now that his hands have been all over every inch of you. A kind that makes you want more reasons to despise him.

Tyler, on the other hand, finds the whole thing pretty hilarious. He spots you in the hallway and notices that you no longer look at him with that infuriation you used to, but what looks more to him like desperate desire you clearly were way too prideful to admit. You still had the faintest shadow of purple discolorations on your skin and he starts to realize how long it’s been since he had you a moaning mess in the showers.

Of course that just makes him want you all over again.

You were doing a better job than he expected you would. You haven’t even tried to shoot him a text when you’re alone at night in your room, thoughts of his body against yours running rampant through your mind. It surprised him to say the least but he knew you well enough now to know that you’re the second most prideful person on the planet, and he’s the first.

He held a smirk on his lips as he stopped in front of you, his eyes lingering to the faint marks his lips left on your skin one week prior. You felt your cheeks heat up beneath your skin and did your best not to let that show, but he already saw the red blush creeping up from your chest to your face and this only made that coy smirk spread wider.

“Can I help you?” You bit out, bringing your hair over your shoulder to hide those marks you knew he was feeling way to proud of. His eyes then met yours, and you hated the way they instantly made your heart violently pound against your chest.

“Are you avoiding me now?” He takes a step forward, lingering his eyes down your body that he would deny, but he hasn’t stopped thinking about.

“I’ve always tried to avoid you.” You snap back, watching as his dimple deepens on his cheek.

“No, not always.” He lets his hand linger out, the tips of two fingers roaming over the band of your shorts, earning chills to skate down your spine at the simplest touch. “If that were the case you wouldn’t have been moaning my name last week.”

You swallowed hard past the dryness of your throat and boldly stared into his dark, amused eyes. His fingertips trailed a line across your stomach before you felt one hook underneath the waistband, just to pull the fabric back and pop it against your skin.

“One time thing.” You managed to say, even though your voice was suddenly shakier than you wished it would’ve been. “And I already forgot about it, but thanks for the unpleasant reminder.”

His hand fell to his side but that smirk on his lips remained as he shook his head from side to side slightly. “Seems like you forgot something else” he tilts his head to the side, taking a single step closer but closing the space between you completely. “What did I tell you about that smart ass mouth?”

You were flashed right back to one of the many moments that’s been playing through your mind like a movie. Dropping to your knees so easily for him, letting him fuck your throat while tears streamed down your cheeks and reveling in all the strained sounds that he let out. You immediately felt a wetness seep into the fabric of your panties and you hated him for it.

Just then, he took a step back, his eyes adverted to something behind you, that ended up being Willow when she walked up to you. She had a little bit of a confused look on her face, just seeing Tyler standing there in front of you because from what she knew, you absolutely despised that man and most of the time you’re doing all you can do to avoid his constant banters.

But all he did was take a step back and stand there, keeping his eyes held firmly on you as you forced yourself to recollect your thoughts enough to appear like everything was normal.

“Hey girl, we were just looking for you. We didn’t see you after your match last week.” She says as she reaches over and smooths a couple flyaways fluttering around your hair.

“Yeah I went home early.” You blurt the first lie you could think of, and Tyler had to drop his head to hide the prideful smirk on his face. “I wasn’t feeling that great. Something made me sick to my stomach.” You let your eyes linger to him to make sure he caught those words, but it didn’t phase him in the slightest.

“Damn, something you ate?” Willow asked.

And that’s when Tyler cut in, ever the most arrogant man that he’s always been. “Nah, she ended up choking on something. I saw it myself.” His eyes had a mischievous gleam to them and you wanted more than anything to blacken them with your fists.

“Oh God, are you okay? Did you need like, the Heimlich Maneuver or something? Why didn’t you tell me that?” Willow asked, then she glanced over at Tyler when all you did was remain silent, simply because your veins were on fire with the rage you felt towards that cocky man.

“I was fine, it wasn’t as bad as Tyler’s making it sound. I just wanted to get back to the hotel and try to forget all about it.” You piped back up, keeping your eyes on him.

“Well, I’m glad you’re alright. We missed you in catering. You gonna meet us after your match tonight so we can all leave together?” She asked, and Willow always had a thing for playing with your hair while she talked to you but, that’s when she caught sight of the purple patches right below your ear, and even though you tried to hide it, she caught it before your hair was pushed back over your shoulder.

“Umm, what the fuck is that?!” She nearly gasps. “YN, you didn’t even tell us-“

“Tell us what?” Skye’s voice finds you as soon as she walks around the corner. Tyler was practically beaming now, loving the way you were getting caught up by two of your friends, exactly how he wanted it to happen.

“She has a hickey” Willow says as she points at the side of your neck.

“No, it’s a bruise.” You quickly blurted, but caught the way Tyler’s brows raised the second you said that.

“A bruise? That’s not a fucking bruise” Skye said when she gets a good look, moving your hair back with her hand. “I’m sorry but who the hell gave that to you? Was it Daniel?! You didn’t even tell us you were seeing him again.”

Tyler’s teeth clenched behind his lips when your ex was mentioned. The man just couldn’t help it.

“I’m curious too.” He chipped in, holding his eyes on yours with that agonizing look of pure pride and enjoyment. You cut your eyes at him, and he smirked back effortlessly.

“Nobody important.” You bit out, making sure you stared him down just as strongly as he was you.

“No?” Tyler chipped back in, tilting his head to the side as he leaned his shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest.

Skye and Willow both picked up on the tensions arising between the two of you, feeling the atmosphere shift around them.

“Nope. Just some meaningless fuck I don’t care to talk about.” Then you glanced over at the girls next to you. “It wasn’t even good.”

But that’s when tyler took a step forward and Willow and Skye both took two steps back, their eyes wide and nothing but shocked when Tyler’s fingers squeezed your cheeks and his lips lingered against your own.

“Remember what I told you? Right before I made you come all over me?” He reminds you of something you surely hadn’t forgotten, but all that was going through your mind was the way you wanted him filling you back up all over again.

Willows mouth dropped open and Skye’s eyes were as wide as the moon as they stood there, unable to speak.

“I’m not letting anyone else take credit for the way I ruined you that night, so tell them the truth, or I’ll have no choice but to prove you’re nothing but a pretty little liar.”

You held your eyes on his, your heart hammering ninety beats a minute as his lips barely grazed over yours, and when you finally were able to pull your eyes away, all you saw was willow and Skye taking more steps back with looks of confusion, shock and most of all, complete disbelief painted on their faces.

“You two hate each other?!” Skye eventually spat, staring dead at you, wondering how long they’ve been in the dark about this.

“That’s what she wanted you to think, but maybe you don’t know your best friend the way you think you do.” He smirked, keeping his eyes on you as he slid his thumb across your bottom lip.

“I-I don’t- I’m so-“ Willow stammered.

“Yeah, anyway, we have some unfinished business to take care of, so I’d get out of here if I were you.” He glances over to watch as they both give you a dumbfounded look before slowly backing down the hall.

Once they’re gone, he has your full attention again.

“I didn’t want them knowing. I didn’t want anybody to know.” You spat, taking a step back.

“I told you already, nobody else is getting my credit. Should’ve hid those hickeys with more makeup if you really wanted to hide it that bad.” He shrugged. “But I think we both know that you’re lying again. You would’ve ended up telling your little friends everything. You’ve probably been dying to.”

He was right, but you weren’t gonna tell him that. You attempted to shoot him that infamous glare you’d perfected just for him but he was completely unfazed by it at this point that all it did was make him chuckle.

“Since your little secret is out, I guess I can leave as many marks on your neck as I want to now.” He steps closer, his hands easily finding your hips as he pulls you against him.

You had to take a second to recollect your thoughts but once you did, you managed to say, “I have a match in half an hour, I can’t do this right now.”

But you felt his lips lingering against your neck the second those words slipped out and just like before, your eyes rolled back and nothing but breathy sighs came out of your mouth as you involuntarily melted into him, like pure, delicate putty in his dangerous hands.

“That’s gonna be a tough match for you” he mutters against you. “Don’t know how you’re gonna perform when you can’t even walk straight”

You clenched around absolutely nothing as his words sent shivers down your whole body. An affect you wished wasn’t so strong but unfortunately for you, it was.

You threw all caution to the wind and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, immediately giving in to him as soon as his lips latched to yours. It was filled with desperation from you both, and it was something that completely snatched the all the oxygen right out of your lungs.

He’d be lying if he said he had any control over this. All he could think about from that moment you left the shower room to now, was exactly what he plans to do next.

The locker rooms were right across the hall and that’s exactly where he pulled you to the second you detached. Despite the fact that anybody could come in at any second, all he could think about was getting between your thighs and letting your sweetness embed in his tongue all over again.

He was surprised at how easily you let him take all the control. You didn’t even attempt to make a smart remark and in a way, it was refreshing, but he also kind of missed that bantering the two of you always did.

He guided you over to the bench and slid your shorts down to your ankles before you fully sat down. Then, he was on his knees once again, eager for the sweet taste of you.

This time, he wasted no time warming up. He was impatient and he didn’t care that he was showing it. His lips locked around your clit and he started suckling pulsations against the sensitive bud, his tongue flicking aggressively over it as he watched your head hit the lockers and heard those beautiful sounds slip past your lips.

His fingers slid inside of you, finding that familiar spot that he knew made your head spin. He knew he had limited time to do this and he was wasting none of it as he used one hand to keep your thigh pinned against the bench, and the other one pumping your g-spot harshly.

“Fuck- fuck tyler that feels so good, you can’t stop” you cry out, making no effort to keep your tone minimized. He smirked against you before his lips cupped around your clit again, tilting his head to the side as he kept lapping his tongue.

“Thought you said I wasn’t good?” He teased, muttering hot breaths against your slick core. “Sounds like it feels pretty fucking good to me. Sounded like it felt good last week, too.”

His fingers pounding against your sweet spot kept you from being able to banter back, which was exactly why he slowed those pumps down to almost nothing and waited for your eyes to lock with his.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He brought that condescending edge back to his raspy voice. “You want more? Even though you said it wasn’t even good? Is that why you’re clenching my fingers this tight?”

You bucked your hips in a silent plea but it wasn’t enough for him.

“Nah, that’s not gonna work this time, angel. Need to hear you admit it. Own up to something for the first time in your life, and maybe I’ll give you what you need.”

You rolled your eyes and laid your head back against the lockers. You felt frustration overpowering you but especially when his fingers slowly, painfully slowly curled against your sweet spot.

“You could be coming all over my fingers right now if you weren’t so stubborn” he chuckles darkly, “all you have to do is say the word, baby, and I’ll have you seeing the stars all over again.”

He gave two more slow pumps before you couldn’t take it anymore. You nearly groaned as you arched your hips, desperate for more and breathed out, “fuck tyler, it feels so fucking good, I need more, just stop fucking teasing me, please!”

He smirked, then thrusted those fingers with a quickness that pulled an abundance of whines and moans out of you. He watched your thighs tremble and felt your walls clamping down so tight it was hard for those fingers to even move.

That’s when he rose up, his lips coming to linger over yours as he continued pumping against your g-spot. “Taste yourself.” He muttered, and as you parted your lips, his freehand snaked around your throat, gently squeezing as his tongue slipped over yours.

You felt your blood rushing to your head and that familiar dizziness that you didn’t even realize you missed so much. The taste of yourself mixed with mint lingered on your tongue and it only took three more curls of those long, slender fingers before he felt your walls pulsate and that warmth coated his whole hand.

He smirked against your lips, then pulled those fingers out as much as he wanted to toy with you a little, because he knew time was running out.

He pulled his shorts down halfway and his cock sprung free. Your eyes slightly widened when you saw it again. You somewhat forgot how big he actually was until it was proudly displayed, and you licked your lips without realizing it.

“You really do deserve this dick shoved down your throat, but there’s another place I want to put it right now.” He whispered heavily as he pulls back and picks you up, sitting himself down on the bench with you straddling him.

Your hands instinctively found his shoulders as he held his shaft, positioning himself right where he’d been dying to be before he used his other hand to hold your hip, lowering you down until you felt him in the pit of your stomach.

That familiar sting upon first contact made you moan out, but it was overpowered by his breathy sigh the second he felt your walls squeezing him with that same, hard grip that he hadn’t stopped thinking about since the last time.

He angled his hips to see just how deep he could push himself in and watched as your eyes instantly rolled back, teeth biting hard on your lower lip, so hard you’d probably draw blood in a second.

He watched you carefully as he angled his hips, slowly thrusting deeper. His brows knitted together as soon as you started meeting his thrusts halfway, and the slow, fluid motions quickly turned into harsh snaps of his hips as soon as your head fell against his shoulder.

“You’re unbelievably tight right now” he groans out, wrapping his arms tightly around your back. “Squeezing the fucking life out of me, baby.”

Your eyes fluttered at the use of the pet name that had been running through your mind for a week now. The simplest of names that made your whole body tingle.

His hips thrusted upwards and you did your best to keep up with the pace, but he was merciless. He wasn’t planning on slowing down and all you could do was hold onto him and let him take you on this wild ride, just how he wanted.

His lips latched to your neck, finding that spot below your ear that shot a blaze through your whole body. He felt your nails raking his shoulders as his teeth grazed your skin. The sounds of skin harshly slapping and wet suctions was likely filling the hallway right outside but he didn’t give a fuck about it.

He pulled back to admire the fresh mark on your neck, his hot breaths puffing against the slick skin. “Gonna be hard to hide that” he smirked, letting his lips linger against your shoulder. “Know what else would be hard for you to hide, baby?” He slides down slightly and squares his feet for leverage. “Me putting my baby in you”

He felt your nails dig deeper into his skin, knowing you wanted to banter back but you were way too fucked out to do it. “How would you cover that one with one of your little lies? Stuck with me forever, cause you just can’t seem to leave me alone for some reason.”

He thrusted harder, reveling in the way you were trying with all your might to keep your voice down. “Feels like that’s exactly what you want, baby. Feels like you’re tryna drain me right now. I always knew it. Always knew you were just dying for me to fuck you senseless.”

You pulled back, dropping your head against his. His eyes stayed intently staring into yours, loving the way you just couldn’t seem to collect yourself in the slightest.

“No control over yourself now, huh? That smart ass mouth just doesn’t have anything to say when I’m shoving my cock up your tight little pussy. You just sit there and take it, cause that’s exactly what you’ve always wanted.”

You tipped your head back and screwed your eyes shut. You felt his lips brush against your collarbone as he wrapped his arms tighter around you, his teeth grazing your skin as he fucked into you with a force so strong you were unable to process anything except exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Fuck tyler” you moan out, grabbing a fistful of his hair in your hand, earning a groan to reverberate through his throat. “you don’t even know how good you feel right now!”

“Oh I know, baby” he smirks, “i can feel it”

You dropped your head back down, lips parted and puffy before he crashed his into them, before pulling back slowly.

“Harder, please” you whimpered.

With that, he angled his hips more and thrusted even deeper, knocking his tip against your cervix with each push in, and it was only moments before your whole entire body was quaking, fingers trembling and thighs shaking as you arched your back and let that high power through you.

“Fuck you’re so hot when your coming on my dick, baby. So fucking gorgeous letting me fuck you senseless. Taking me like a good girl, no tears this time” he groans, rocking you through the high as his own quickly creeps up on him.

You collapse against him and he just holds you tighter, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he fucks into you a little slower, knowing how overly sensitive you probably were, but fast enough to still keep you a moaning, whimpering mess for him.

“So good for me, every fucking time. Coming on my cock like you’re supposed to, letting me fill that tight little pussy while you take every last drop. Can’t wait til my come is dripping down your thighs in the ring. Hope the cameras don’t catch that, or else your little secret is gonna be out for the world to know, not just your little friends.”

You moaned against his shoulder when you felt his cock twitch, before that familiar warmth engulfed you. His arms tightened, his hips stuttered and hot, heavy breaths were puffed out against your neck before he pushed himself all the way in, and gave two extra thrusts for good measure.

Once he slid out; you realized you were fucked. You attempted to stand but he had you by the arm to steady you the second he saw you wobble on your feet.

You glared at him, but ended up smirking instead.

“Your match is in, like, ten minutes” he tells you as he pulls up his shorts. “I’ll be watching you struggle from the viewing room. Can’t wait to see how you try to hide the fact that you just got throughly fucked backstage.”

You pulled your shorts up and shot him another look, attempting to fix your hair but you could feel the tangles and knots all throughout it.

“I would go find some make up for that neck, too, unless you just want to let the world know I’m fucking the shit out of you, in which case, I’m not really opposed to that.” He shrugs with that sly smile plastered to his lips.

“I bet you would love that.” You bite back, doing what you can manage to make yourself decent.

“I would really love it, actually.” He grins, and that’s when you shake your head as you back up towards the door.

“Never gonna happen. I need to go figure out how to hide this shit on my neck, again.”

He sits back down in the same spot on the bench he was just fucking you, and can’t help but feel prideful once again at that remark.

“There’s no point, yn. We both know I’ll just give you more next time.”

You rolled your eyes and stepped out the room, but didn’t realize it would’ve been smarter if he stepped out first to make sure nobody was around and caught you leaving the men’s locker room with fresh hickeys all over your neck.

Unfortunately your brain was a little scrambled but it was fully aligned once again when you came face to face with your ex, Daniel.

“Uh, hi” you awkwardly greeted him, stepping away from the door as if you didn’t just walk right out of the room itself.

He eyed you, then the door behind you. “Why are you coming out of the men’s locker room?” He asked, and that’s when his eyes lingered down to the fresh marks on your neck you weren’t smart enough to hide sooner. “Yn, are those hickeys?”

You could see the flash of pain strike his eyes and looked down at your feet to avoid it.

“What the fuck?!” He spat, a little louder than you wished he’d be. “You’re just going around fucking people now?! That fast?! Are you fucking kidding me?! Who the fuck are you with?!”

He tried to step around you but you moved to the side to stop him. “It’s none of your business Daniel, we’ve been done for a while now.” You tried to be gentle about it but he was evidently hurt and, probably really angry.

“A month, yn. A month isn’t that long. You’re already spreading your legs and all I’ve done is try to get you back!”

“I am not just going around spreading my legs!” You snapped, “and I don’t want to get back with you! I told you that! I-“

Right before you could finish that sentence, you heard the door creek open behind you, and you couldn’t help but to screw your eyes shut.

“Wait” Daniel pieces it all together when he sees Tyler standing behind you, his hair a wild mess, more than the usual. “This guy?! Are you fucking serious?! You told me you couldn’t stand him!”

“She lied.” Tyler piped up, stepping closer until you felt his body heat lingering against your back. “Get over it.”

Daniels eyes darkened, Tyler’s eyes narrowed, and you felt the sliceable tensions escalating.

Daniels eyes adverted back down to you, pure disbelief scattered throughout. “Everyone was right about you.” He scoffs coldly. “You’re nothing but a fucking whore.”

As soon as he said that, you felt Tyler brush right past you, moving you out the way before the sound of knuckles to a bone filled your ears and Daniel was sliding down the wall.

“Tyler! What the fuck!” You shout, grabbing him by the arm to pull him back.

He spun around with flames in his dark eyes, his cheeks red and splotchy. “Don’t let that stupid motherfucker talk to you like that!” He spat, his teeth gritting afterwards.

“You can’t just punch him in the face like that!” You shout back, watching as he glances over at Daniel, and the smears of blood over his busted lip. Tyler avoided you, turning to face him instead.

“Count your blessings shes here, or you’d be chewing on your teeth right now.” He pointed down at the injured man before he eyed you over, and headed down the hall. You didn’t have the time to make sure Daniel was okay nor did you now have the chance to stop by hair and makeup to cover those worsening marks on your neck, so you really wanted to scream at Tyler for that but, no time for that either.

You did your best to make yourself presentable as you raced to the gorilla. Tyler had just gotten himself comfortable in the viewing room when your music hit. He watched with a smirk as you walked out, hair an absolute mess and those hickeys so prominent against your skin.

You tried to keep your hair over your shoulders to cover them but it was absolutely no use once you stepped in the ring. The only good thing about that match was the fact that you were gonna win, and you wished you could see Tyler’s face when you do, but that was the last thing you should’ve been thinking about.

He kept his fist over his mouth to hide the smirk since there were a few others in the room with him. But he couldn’t help it. He absolutely loved the fact that you’d just gotten fucked by him and had to drag yourself out to the ring immediately after. Rocking Daniels shit was the cherry on top of the worlds tastiest cake to him, even though he was sure he’d be hearing about it later.

You felt an ache on your inner thigh when your opponent kicked you. You knew exactly why you were so sore but again, you weren’t supposed to be thinking about that. You didn’t have time to shower, obviously, so you still felt Tyler dripping out of you, and all it was doing was making you want to call this whole match off and go find him immediately.

In other words, you were fucked. Figuratively and literally.

As soon as you got the three count and secured your first win in a while, Tyler got up from the couch and headed right out the door. You took a little bit of time flaunting around the ring but not as long as you usually would have. You wanted to get off the camera as soon as you could.

You sped up the ramp and through the tunnel, rounding the corner to find Tyler leaning against the wall with a bit of a softer smile on his face.

“Congrats, it’s about time you beat someone’s ass.” He pushed himself off the wall and you shot him a daring glare as you kept walking. “How was that match? Looked like you were struggling a little bit.” He chuckled, and you felt that wetness seeping into the fabric of your panties once again. Just his voice, for some strange reason, did unspeakable things to you.

But you managed to force past that as you kept heading down the hall, aiming to go straight to the showers, alone this time.

“You know you really hurt Daniel?” You snapped when you came up to the doors. Tyler’s brows knitted together and a look of sudden annoyance played on his face like you hadn’t seen before. “And I think you should apologize.”

He sarcastically laughed at that, shaking his head. “That’s never gonna happen, yn. He disrespected you, remember? Why are you even defending him right now? He called you a whore.”

“He was hurt cause he still loves me, and I don’t blame him for that.” You crossed your arms over your chest as you watched his eyes narrow.

“So that makes it okay that he disrespected you like that? Just because the dude is still in love with you? Nah, I don’t play that shit. He’s lucky I didn’t break his neck, honestly. He should be thanking you for that.”

You stared back into his fired up eyes, unable to speak when he took a step closer, like always. That affect he had on you was probably eternal at this point. In this lifetime and the next, you’d most likely always be putty in his hands.

“Are you still in love with him or something?” He asked, sliding his tongue over his plump lips as he eyed you with skepticism evident.

“No.” You honestly admitted, holding his stare.

“Then why are you so upset with me? I defended you, cause you clearly weren’t gonna do it yourself.”

You clamped your mouth shut when you realized that he wasn’t lying. He did defend your honor but you didn’t expect it.

He watched your face soften. Those piercing eyes rounded out and your hands fell to your sides as you stared up at him.

“Exactly.” He eyed you over when you said nothing more. You sighed and looked over at the door, remembering the shower you desperately needed. Tyler took a step back, as if he could read you mind. He turned the knob and pushed the door opened for you, but he didn’t step in after.

Part of you wanted him to but, even though he fucked you senseless less than two hours prior, you were too hesitant to ask. He nodded before he closed the door behind him, leaving you standing there with a million thoughts rushing through your head.

You took a glance at yourself in the mirror and noticed just how dark those patches had gotten on your neck. Your finger roamed over them and you winced at the sting, but it was nothing but a reminder of those moments with him.

You couldn’t even shower without having the images of the two of you attack your mind. It’s all you were thinking about since the first time he touched you and you couldn’t even fight it.

You stood there as the water cascaded down over your sore body, thinking solely about his hands gripping your hips. Flashing back to the moment like it happened just a few minutes ago, and you can’t help but remember all the sweet nothings he whispered when he was trying to get that high to sky lengths.

All the times he called you baby, for some reason just won’t stop replaying in your mind and the weird sensations that it brings just keep getting stronger the harder you try to fight against it.

You knew it from the very first time you felt something ignite for him and only him. If he ever got his hands on you, you’d be addicted, and like addiction tends to creep up on people, snatching them when they least expect it, so did he to you.

You’ve never craved another man’s touch quite like this. There was no justification for it. You just simply wanted him every time you remembered his lips on yours. It was nearly impossible to fight, which is why you ended up in the locker rooms earlier but, at what cost? The man you spent so much time trying to hate is quickly becoming your greatest weakness.

You sighed as you stepped out the shower and wrapped the towel around you, tucking it tight so it stayed clasped. The locker room was just one over so you weren’t worried about it anyway, that was until you stepped out and heard Tyler’s voice a little ways down the hall.

Turning around, you spotted him leaned up against the wall talking to some girl you didn’t even recognize. His eyes found yours but only for a second before he gave her his attention again, a wide and toothy grin on his face.

You suddenly felt rage like you hadn’t before boiling over and did your best not to show it, but when you watched her fingers trace the cross on his neck, you had to get away immediately.

You closed the door behind you and threw your clothes down on the bench. You had a million and one thoughts running through your mind and they all consisted of him. He saw you watching him and didn’t make an effort to even try to hide that cocky ass grin on his face.

You made quick work at throwing some sweats and a t-shirt on but as soon as you stepped back out in the hallway, they were both gone. The first thing you thought was him taking her to the shower room, or the locker room or wherever else he thought about.

It was enough to make your whole entire body buzz with anger and the best thing you could do was get out of that arena before you made an absolute fool of yourself.

And as much as you knew you had no solid ground to stand on, because you and Tyler were absolutely nothing but two people who randomly fucked a time or two, you still found yourself unable to control the questions that kept buzzing around your brain that he absolutely needed to be asked so, at midnight, after your intrusive thoughts got the best of you, you knocked on his hotel door.

He opened it with hair wildly disheveled, no shirt and sweatpants sitting dangerously low on his hips. He looked a little taken back to see you standing there but he knew exactly why you had those rosy red cheeks and fiery eyes to match.

“Am I interrupting anything?” You quipped, and watched as he shook his head and opened his door wider. To you, he looked like he just got hands ran all through his hair and that thought alone was making your stomach coil.

You slowly stepped in and eyed him before you glanced around his room, looking for the signs that someone else was in here but, no woman’s clothes or pieces of jewelry were anywhere to be found.

You heard the door softly shut and turned to face him, arms crossed tightly over your chest as he walked over to you, holding that smirk you wished you really had enough hatred to slap right off of his face.

“What’s got you all fired up?” He asks, knowing good and well what it was but he really just wanted to hear you say it. Then maybe he would admit that he had that all planned out the entire time.

“I’m not.” You blurt, glaring at him. “I just wanted to-“

“Wanted to what? See if I was fucking her?” He stepped closer, tilting his head like he always does when he tries to read right through you, which was becoming way easier now that you finally let your guard down.

“Who was she?” You retaliate, watching his lips tip upwards once more.

“A friend.” He chuckles before he brushes past you, making his way back over to his bed.

“A friend?” You repeated. “Didn’t look like she was a friend.”

“Well, she is.” He shrugged as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “No reason for you to be jealous.” He smirked.

“I’m not jealous.” You rapidly spat back. “But you just fucked me not even two hours before you were basically eye fucking her!”

He shook his head as he ran his hand through his hair. “You sound pretty fucking jealous to me.”

You felt your cheeks burning when he looked back up at you with those amused eyes. He loved everything about this back and forth shit and you knew it, but you just couldn’t fight against it. Secretly, you loved it too. You just hoped he couldn’t tell.

“Don’t you know by now that if you want to fuck me, all you really have to do is say that?” He chuckles lowly, holding his hands out on each side, which felt like an invitation you were dying to accept but, you stayed with feet practically nailed to the floor.

“Haven’t I shown you I’m a pretty willing participant?” He smirked. Having way too much fun with your anger at the moment.

“Willing participant?” You repeated those words. “More like the one who begs for it.”

That’s when you watched the corner of his mouth slide up with a gleam in his dark eyes you recognized all too well.

“No baby, you’re the one who begs. Remember?” He stands up, but you’re so caught off guard by the use of the pet name he only ever called you in the act. Before you realize anything else, he’s standing right in front of you with not even a centimeter of space between.

“Or do you need a reminder?” His hot breath fans over your lips before you feel his fingers hooking under the waistband of your sweatpants, and just like before, you’re fucked all over again.

His lips land on yours and you feel him pulling you towards the bed, but you’re so lost in the moment you don’t even realize it until your back lands on the mattress and your legs involuntarily spread wide, allowing space for him between.

Your fingers tangle up in his hair as his tongue rhythmically dances over yours and in the midst of it all you can feel his hardening bulge beneath the thin fabric of his sweats pressing hard against your inner thigh.

Once again you were in full desperation, suddenly so needy as you whimpered against his lips and he loved it. He leaned back on his knees and took a second to admire his view of you, laying underneath him with pretty puffy lips and purple marks all over your neck. He could’ve taken a picture and put it on a billboard proudly.

He slid your sweats down to your ankles and slung them across the floor before he made his way back up your body, needy and desperate himself but he was doing a good job at hiding it.

He slid some hair out your face and made sure you were looking dead in his eyes when he whispered, “If we do this again, you’re mine. No more games. I’m done playing. You win.”

You were suddenly taken back at the words that seemed more like a verbal commitment but you couldn’t even take the time to think about them when his lips latched to yours once again, but so much slower this time. So much more passion emitted that it was rather undeniable.

Your head was nearly spinning when he pulled back and waited for your eyes to flutter open.

“All mine.” He breathlessly muttered, rubbing his thumb over your lip. “This.” He said, before he roamed that hand down to your aching core, just barely grazing your clit with the pad of his fingertip. “This.” He added, then he brought that hand right back up, snaking it around your neck, making your eyes roll back instantly. “This, too. You’re all mine.”

Even if you thought about objecting, you wouldn’t have been able to. You felt him applying that slight pressure and it had your cheeks flaming immensely. His lips collided with yours once again as strained moans got lost somewhere within his mouth, before he let go of your neck and grabbed himself instead, gliding his tip over your drenched cunt before he pushed in without a single warning.

“Oh my God” you gasped out, your head lifting from the pillows. Eyes caught his as he pushed himself all the way in and held himself there, allowing you a minute to adjust like he typically did before he slowly pulled back out of you halfway, and pushed in once more.

Your head fell back against the pillows again and his fell to your shoulder, low grunts and heavy sighs being muffled by your skin as he rocked into you, but not nearly as rough and rigid as the times before. His thrusts were smooth and languid, easy for you to meet them halfway as you arched your hips off the mattress, just to feel him hit as deep as he could possibly go.

“Feel so fucking incredible baby, every single time my dick gets buried in you, I swear it just keeps getting better and better.” He heavily whispered against you before he picked his head back up, resting his forehead to yours.

That gold cross bounced off of your lips with each deep push and pull of his hips, and when he leaned up on his elbows, you hooked your finger through the chain to pull him back down to your lips again.

He hummed against you, his mouth opening slightly when he felt you clenching around him.

“Fuck you’re killing me, baby. You know that? Gonna be the fucking death of me.”

You let a high moan rip through your lips when he sped up, pulling back and crashing into you with a strength that had you clawing scars all down his back. You felt his muscles flex beneath your fingertips and a low groan fly into the air when he felt those nails breaking skin.

“You like that, don’t you baby? You like when I’m rough with you. You want to be fucked like a little slut? Well, I got you.”

You were flipped over within a split second, your face pressed against the pillows as he lifted your hips and slammed into you again. Your high pitched moans were muffled by the pillow, but he wanted to hear them better.

“Nah, pick your head up and let me hear how good it feels.” His hand tangled up in your disheveled locks as he snatches your head back, fucking into you so hard you couldn’t keep from letting his name bounce off the walls.

“That’s right baby, fuck these people. Make them hear you scream my name all fucking night long.”

He was no good for you at that point. All the coaxing only made you louder. You couldn’t help it even if you tried, but you gave up that fight when he repeatedly pounded your sweet spot, making your sweet juices drip down onto the bedsheets.

“Such a good girl, always so wet and tight and ready for me to fuck you.” He groaned above you, before he folded over your body and let go of your hips. You couldn’t help but to collapse against the bed and didn’t mind it. His hand snaked beneath your stomach and made its way down to your clit, feeling your walls bear down the second he started rubbing circles over it.

“Don’t- don’t stop” was all you could manage through the broken moans and whimpers. He obliged to your plea, continuing to rock into you while his finger rubbed rotations against your clit, but his other hand found it’s way back up to your neck, wrapping around it as he turned your head to face him.

“Look me in the eyes when you come on my dick, understand me?” He demanded, and all you could do was nod as tears pricked the corners of your eyes. He noticed, but this time, he didn’t say anything. His lips locked with yours and his teeth sank down into your bottom lip, pulling it back before he let it go.

You felt his finger speed up, along with those thrusts and the quick arising warmth swirling through your lower stomach each time he hit that one spot only he was ever able to. He felt you clench down, felt your body stiffen beneath him and he didn’t miss a beat.

“So fucking gorgeous” he muttered under his breath as his hips kept rocking against you. He buried himself deep, making sure you felt him filling you all the way, and judging by the sounds flying through your mouth, he succeeded at that.

“Like it deep, don’t you?” He mused before he pushed himself even deeper, earning a stinging sensation at first, before it quickly morphed into something extraordinary.

You were too fucked out, as usual and he could tell. He applied a little pressure to the sides of your neck all the while his fingers spun rapid circles over your clit and it was then that he felt your entire body quake, your walls once again sucking him right back in and holding him there with a vice grip that made his elbows tremble against the mattress.

“Look at me” he demanded, even though your eyes were fluttering, you managed. His lips were parted and puffier than usual, hair stuck to his skin and wildly spread across his forehead. He only gave you a second to glance before he couldn’t help himself and had to taste you again.

His lips collided with yours as that high powered through you, taking you and throwing your limp body into a complete bottomless pit of euphoria. The low moans that got lost from his mouth to yours were making your head spin wildly out of control but his tongue lingering around yours was somehow keeping you locked in the moment, hypersensitive to every little move he made.

You felt a rush of warmth spill out of you just as he pulled his hips back. There were drenched spots underneath you on the sheets and when he leaned back up on his knees he looked down, pretty proudly at that.

You felt his finger collecting some of the salty liquids, yours mixed with his and spread it all along your folds with a smirk plastered on his face, especially when your body jerked from the featherlight touch.

“Don’t think I’ve seen that from you before.” He said as he wraps his hands underneath your thighs and turns you over.

“What?” You asked, glancing down between your legs to see the massive wet spot taking up almost half of that side of the bed.

You glanced back at him and that proud look on his face and couldn’t help but to roll your eyes at that arrogance you were sure was permanently a part of him.

He made his way back up, placing a kiss to your forehead tenderly, which caught you off guard but you didn’t object to it.

“From now on, I’m gonna be aiming to make you come that hard.” He whispers before he rolls onto his side and turns you to face him. You felt his arm lazily drape over your hip and his fingers absentmindedly traced little circles on your lower back.

“That’s if this ever happens again” your smart mouth was brought right back and he could’ve expected that much, but again, it just doesn’t phase him. He leaned in and placed another gentle kiss to your lips, basically telling you to stop talking in the nicest way possible before he pulled you into his chest.

When you let your arm wrap around him, he let an easy smile spread across his lips, but you were tracing the new tattoo on his chest, so you didn’t see it.

“If I wake up alone in the morning, I’m coming to fuck you all over again, so you might as well stay the night with me.” He barely muttered as his face melted into the pillow.

“Is that your way of saying you want morning sex, too?” You teased, but felt those strong arms tightening around you.

“That’s my way of saying I want morning sex every morning when I wake up next to you from now on.”

#hook aew #aew hook #hook imagine #hook x reader #tyler senerchia #hook nation rise #hook #send hook #aew dynamite

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mysticcollectionbee · 2 months

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Saw your comment abt having a long theory/headcanon abt Al and Vox's Alliance/friendship, so like, share with the class, I need to hear every single theory abt them, I'm so normal abt them

Well since you asked~: I think that they not only had an alliance but it was actually ALASTOR that formed it. I know a lot of people think Vox would be the one to approach Al, I don’t think that would work. Vox would either be a nobody or a newcomer at the time they would meet. Al is arrogant and likes to be in control of things. He wouldn’t hear out Vox. BUT other way around makes sense. Alastor could have used the reasoning of “I’m bored and wanna see if alliances are entertaining” or (my theory) “This guy’s power can boost my own and vice versa…plus, I don’t want to do all the boring Overlord paperwork.” Because if the whole “Alastor became an Overlord due to technicality” thing is still canon, then he wouldn’t have signed up for anything but his own goals. Vox was probably atleast kinda interested in Alastor and also saw the potential of teaming. They worked kinda well up until their individual flaws started to bother each other. And no, I don’t think the main reason was: Old vs New. I think it was the conflicts underneath that issue that led to them becoming enemies. Actual conflicts: 1) Alastor is a mysterious loner who likes to keep things close to chest and Vox literally has cameras everywhere and wants to be on top of everything going on. Including with what his business partners are doing. 2) Alastor is arrogant and hates change, especially changing things for others (“People don’t like my radio shows? Don’t care! I do it for myself and those that do like it”) and Vox constantly needing attention and validation due to his own insecurity (“I’m losing viewers?! Quick, what trending right now? Or how can I improve this to be better?”). And finally 3) They both have tempers and think they’re usually in the right.

This also makes me think that it had to be Vox’s fault (Kinda) for the ‘breakup’. Alastor has been shown to be too stubborn to admit when he’s wrong and too tolerant of people doing things he shouldn’t tolerate just because they either get on his good side or are useful to him (*cough* Mimzy *cough*). So he probably would tolerate (to a degree) Vox’s constant need for attention and validation and constant push for fame and change. But, Al also has strict lines in the sand he won’t stand and when they’re crossed he snaps VERY aggressively (Husk touching a secretive matter when he is already pissed off in that hallway scene). So I can easily see Vox ‘improving’ (completely modernizing it or just putting things in there without permission) Alastor’s radio station as being enough to make Al destroy their alliance for good and make Vox look really bad. And this would also explain how the other Overlords see the Vees. Vox got a seat on their table by being buddy buddy with one of the most feared and THE most unpredictable Overlord. But if their partnership failing was seen as Alastor deeming the newcomer as a failure then the other Overlords would see Vox and the other Vees in a similar negative way (“Smug wannabes, who don’t heed when they’ve been warned!” -Carmilla). Because despite Zestiel questioning Alastor and Carmilla’s snide remark, they still treat Alastor (Guy who disappeared for 7 YEARS and hasn’t been doing much after killing other OVERLORDS they probably knew for a longer time) with a lot of respect. Zestiel still gives him proper greetings and more respectfully talks to him versus how he talks to Velvette. And Carmilla, still does welcome him back. He literally sits near the oldest out of all of them and the leader of the meeting. VS Carmilla acting like the Vees were either expected not to show or weren’t even invited. Zestiel rudely interrupting Vel while she’s talking, to point out how she’s wrong without letting her finish. And again, Vel seems to assume the end of the table is for her, as if the Vees are usually seated at the very last spot available. And the Vees have been around for those 7 years gaining more power. Almost like the old-timers once gave the newcomers a chance at the table but they ruined it for themselves. (*cough* one of the most powerful and vicious overlords in a group took one of you under his wing and you somehow ended up destroying that powerful alliance and replacing it with a loud pimp and a rude brat. *cough*)

SO…That my Ted-Talk. I basically do think Al and Vox were a famously good alliance at one point amongst the Overlords but when their flaws got on each other’s nerves and they ‘broke up’ (professionally/platonically), even the other Overlords simply around the two started to pick sides. I.E: Old-timers seeing the arrogance and foolishness of the young blood vs The Vees seeing a bunch of pompous fossils refusing to change for the better.

P.S. This makes me REALLY curious about Miss Zeezi since she obviously is from a more modern era (70s or 90s). Did she somehow get on the Vees bad side and that made the old-timers like her or something? Or did one of the Old guys do what Al and Vox did but make it work this time?

#hazbin hotel #theory kinda #analysis #headcanon kinda #vox #alastor #the vees #overlord #zestial #carmilla carmine #miss zeezi #hazbin velvette

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evanpfics · 10 months

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Restless Nights - Kyle Spencer ( fluff )

This has post-death Kyle in it, so he is still struggling with speech, thoughts, etc.

If you have any feedback let me know, anything helps since I struggle with spelling and grammar. Any criticism helps.

Warnings: none

You have been staying at the school of witches for quite awhile. You enjoyed your time there allowing yourself to explore freely and focus on getting your powers under control.

You were able to make hallucinations come to life.. well at least be able to allow people to see certain hallucinations.

It took a lot of work being able to get into the mind of more than one person at a time to make whatever you wanted them to see become ‘real’.

After awhile of being able to practice your skill you felt very tired out. You make your way up the stairs and into your room after a long days work.

As you enter the room you can see Kyle sitting on your bed watching his tablet seeming to be very drawn into what he was watching.

You decide to take a quick shower and change into some comfortable clothing. You lit some candles and set them on your night-stand as you see the sun starting to set, it was 8:03PM.

You tap Kyle on his shoulders causing him to jolt up being suprised from the sudden touching since he was so interested in his tablet.

“Time for bed, Kyle” You told him as you gently look of his headphones.

He looked a bit disappointed but nodded and handed you the tablet. You set the tablet and headphones inside your night stand drawer.

You didn’t hate the idea of sharing rooms with him, he was a sweet heart, but it wouldn’t be your first choice. Since so many witches been coming here it has been hard having to find spacing. So multiple people had to be grouped together in rooms, just hated the idea of having to be the only one who had to share a bed with someone else.

As you and Kyle lay next to each other facing opposite sides you can feel yourself drifting to sleep.

You wake up to him lightly groaning while moving around the bed trying to find different positions to finally get comfortable.

You sit up on the bed rubbing your eyes looking over at him.

“Kyle? It’s time for bed sweetie. What are you doing?” You placed your hand on his arm.

He got a bit startled and sat up along with you.

“T—Tiiired..” He said sounding a bit upset as if he was on the verge of tears. You couldn’t help but feel at least a bit bad.

You stared at your clock seeing the time be 2:30AM, poor boy couldn’t sleep this whole time.

You cupped his cheek into your hand and rubbed your thumb gently on his cheek.

“Poor honey, you must be so exhausted, huh?” He looked up at you with very tired eyes. You can tell he hasn’t slept good in awhile from the eye-bags forming.

You smiled at him gently before laying on your side, you tapped the spot in front gesturing him to lay next to you.

He positioned himself next to you allowing you to big spoon him.

You closed your eyes allowing yourself to see how far your ability can go.

You formed an hallucination of a very starry night sky above you guys, twinkling stars being able to shine beautifully above you guys.

Kyle looked up in surprised with a shocked look on his face.

“P—Pretty” He said as he enjoyed the sight of the twinkling bright stars above him.

You began to play with his hair massaging his head here and there to allow him to relax more.

You can see his eyes fluttering shut then opening randomly, you can tell he was still struggling to sleep but not as bad.

You rubbed the side of his arm gently causing him to fall asleep after a bit.

You found yourself slowly beginning to fall asleep yourself from your rhythmic movements.

“Goodnight, Kyle.”

You whispered as you faded in your sleep, your formed hallucination soon following.

Thank you for reading!

If you have any suggestions or criticism on stuff I need to fix/work on let me know.

#Kyle Spencer #american horror story #evan peters #Kyle Spencer fluff #Kyle Spencer fic #kyle Spencer fanfic #post death Kyle #coven #ahs coven #ahs witch #Evan peters fanfic #Evan peters fluff #Kyle Spencer ahs #ahs kyle spencer #ahs Kyle #evan peters smut #smut #ahs smut #kyle spencer smut

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galaxycunt · 6 months

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I Can’t Keep Crying pt 4

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

Smut/fluff/Angst

Also would like to note I read a fic that inspired my own dancing scene so give that one a read too!! Almost to the end folks!

You had been out to sea for three weeks now, Buggy still giving you the hot and cold treatment. On the good days, he’d invite you to play for him, scheming for a way to make you stay. The bad days come when you refuse him. He still kept you around, watching you work.

The sun was getting hotter, your mind frying from looking at him too long. You were a hot mess, his toned and sweaty body giving you ideas.

You climbed up the crow’s nest just to get away from him. Closing your eyes as you fantasized. Frowning, realizing you only wanted to think about Buggy. Your mind drifted to other lovers, and shit had it been a long time. Then it hit you.

The last time you were on land, before this recent resupply, you ditched buggy for some guy.

Was he really that pissed off about it?

You should’ve known better, you figured Buggy was getting off with someone else anyway. The way he teased you, it pissed you off enough to blow him off at the last second.

Shit, that was 3 months into your fling. A long time to harbor any feelings.

”Hey! Buggy wants you! Tent got ripped!”

You climbed down to the deck, heart weighing your shoulders down. You thought you heard a rumor about someone else joining his bed, you hated yourself for being so stupid. It was all too late now.

Buggy opened the door shirtless, the windows letting in a soft breeze. He was all smiles today, the locket swinging against his chest.

”Heya sunshine, got a list of things from the last show. Are you good with wheels? Of course you are, the unicycles been squeaky.”

”Hello to you too, Buggy.”

He smiled again, his eyes lingering over your body. Swallowing, his eyes shot back up to yours.

“I have something else for you.”

He handed you a package with brown paper wrapping, tearing it open revealed a songbook.

You smiled widely, “holy shit! Thank you, I…why?”

”What?”

”Why are you giving this to me?”

He blushed, “I’m tired of your songs. Wanna hear something new.”

You shot him a look, it hurt that he couldn’t just be nice to be nice. Buggy always knew how to really hurt your feelings. You decide to hurt yourself more.

”What’s in the locket?”

His hand covered his chest, “nothing.”

”Heard you got a new nightly visitor, is that why I haven’t played for you in awhile?”

”Who told you that?”

”Goes around.”

”Well it’s a lie.”

You chuckle, not believing a word.

He grabbed your chin to look him in the eye, “there hasn’t been anyone else.”

The force of the grab along with the flex in his arms did something to you. You want to kiss him, against your better judgment.

“You don’t strike me as the type to stick with one person.”

He frowned and whispered, “is that what you really think of me?”

You could only shrug, Buggy letting his arm drop to his side. He doesn’t look at you, shooing you away to do your work in private.

It’s late at night when you finish, and you crawl up that crow’s nest again. The night air is a hundred times cooler than it is in your stuffy room. Your mind wanders, unable to sleep. You think about Buggy and the way his hand clutched your face.

You briefly look below you, empty. You were completely alone. Settling in, you wiggle out of you shorts.

You think about his hands, rough and strong. Dipping your fingers inside you and wished it was his.

On more than one occasion, he teased you with a threat of his dick staying inside you while he went off to work. He only made good on that promise once, the memory serving you well right now.

You thrusted against your fingers, thinking about that day. Circling and pressing on your clit the way his tongue used to, the filthy things he’d whisper in your ear as you begged for him to fuck you.

You lifted up your shirt, pinching your nipples the way he used to. You were so close to cumming, whispering his name into the sky. Your fingers kept working, trying to climax again, you figured if you came enough tonight you wouldn’t have to think about Buggy anymore.

As you twisted your shorts lower, you heard something roll away. Frozen, you gathered the courage to look below you. Still empty. In the dark you groped for what could possibly be in your pocket. It felt soft and a little velvety.

”Hope you enjoyed the show, you fucking asshole,” you yelled into the single ear in your hand.

With a huff you dropped it onto the deck below, careful to not let it land in the ocean. You thought of your next move, either stay or try to hide in your room. Regardless, Buggy was going to be a pain in your ass.

“Fuck it.”

You climbed down, looking for the ear on the deck. It must’ve already made its way to its owner, and you decided to follow it. As you made your way through the dark corridors of the ship, you wrote your script on confronting him. You were never good at relationships, no one ever proved you wrong. The script was always the same.

You knock on the door, waiting impatiently for him. Like a boy in trouble, Buggy’s eyes were glued to the floor.

”I didn’t think you were gonna do that.”

”How long have you been fucking spying on me?”

He scratched his nose nervously, “heard you were up there all day, got worried.”

Now it was time for your script, “Buggy, stop with this bullshit okay? We both know you don’t care about me all that much.”

”Why do you say that?”

You gestured around you, “I’m not made for love, okay I get it. Embarrass me a few times, now it’s done. All of it.”

In the light, his eyes glistened. Carefully he stepped toward you, your resolve threatening to break. Buggy tugged at your shirt’s hem, afraid to hold your hand. You had never seen him like this, your world crumbled around you.

“You are. I…know you are.”

You moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He squeezed your waist, pulling you tight against him. Neither dared to move, you listened to his heart thump rapidly against you.

”I’m no good, but I want to be. I just knew,” he huffed, “I knew that you’d fall for someone better.”

”You hurt me too much,” you whispered.

”I’m sorry. I’m not good at this stuff.”

He rubbed your back, resting his chin on your head. You didn’t know what to say, afraid to be vulnerable. So you let him hold you, the only sounds being the waves crashing against the ship, and your own hearts.

”I shouldn’t have slept with those people, I just thought…you didn’t want me. Couldn’t blame you for that, you know.”

”I want…I want love, Buggy. I don’t like what you do.”

He nodded, “I know. I…only been in love once. I was young, and maybe he loved me back. I dunno…he left me, betrayed what I thought I knew about him.”

You lifted your head to look him in the eyes, a pain threatening to break him down.

”I haven’t learned how to love since. It’s not fair to you, is it?”

You shrug, and he squeezed you tighter.

”Don’t just roll over for me, you’re better than that.”

“Maybe I want you anyway, I can see the man you really are.”

He choked on a sob, “you’ll find someone better.”

”Buggy, look at me.”

He did, regret written on his face. Your fingertips ghosted over his cheek, inching closer and closer to his lips. He met you there, the taste of salt landed on your tongue. You rubbed his eyes gently with your thumbs, he kissed you again. A shy smile on his face, matching your own.

“I missed you.”

”I missed you too.”

Your lips couldn’t stop finding each other, you felt like you were floating. Buggy led you to his bed, your bed really.

“Is this okay?” he said.

You nodded, tugging at his bandana. Running your fingers through his hair, he hummed in delight. The words you wanted to say danced on your lips, a small anxious side of you wondered if this good feeling was going to last.

He seemed to sense it, his own nervousness filling the air. Slowly he unbuttoned your shirt, peppering your skin with kisses.

”What were you thinking about, up there?”

You laugh, “every crazy thing we done before.”

He smiled, “I guess it’s okay to tell you I jerk it to the time we fucked in that bar restroom.”

”Like recently?”

”Oh babe, all the fucking time.”

That seemed to ease you, biting his collarbone, your eyes still on that locket.

Would it be weird to bring it up again now?

”You should go around shirtless more often,” you teased.

”Only if you do,” he kissed you again, “now let me fuck you. Please.”

You giggled as his hands roamed down your body, a satisfied smile as he felt your wetness. You missed his rough fingers thrusting inside you, only to slip out to give your clit attention. You bit his earlobe, a groan let out that you missed hearing.

“God damn,” he said as he sunk into you.

His fingers still circled your clit as he thrusted into you, “you missed this fat cock, didn’t you?”

You nodded breathlessly, you certainly missed his dirty mouth. Buggy rode on that ego, making you squirm beneath him. You claimed his lips with a searing kiss, feeling intoxicated on him and how he made you cum.

He lifted your legs up to hit deeper, the moan you let out louder than either of you expected, edging him closer.

You couldn’t hear what he whispered as he came. Before you could ask, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, kissing you. Emotion overcame you, and you cry silently. He noticed it anyway.

”Hey, please don’t be sad. I…don’t want to ruin this,” he pleaded.

You eyed that locket again, fingers inching towards it. He let you open it, you recognize the photo. It was the day you snuck off to an island to spend alone time together. You thought you looked bad, and he teased you about it. He said he thought you were cute anyway.

”You didn’t want it, so you know.”

”Needs you in there too, so we can both wear it.”

He smiles and kisses you, “I’m not tired, are you?”

You shook your head, letting him lead you out of bed. Buggy gently placed your hand on his shoulder, his own placed on your hip.

”Excuse my bad singing,” he says.

He hummed a quiet song, swaying you both gently. It was a love song, and you realized you never had anyone do this with you before. You pressed your bodies closer together, and you cry again.

”Hey, hey. It’s okay,” he whispers.

Buggy kisses your tears away, the song long forgotten as you dance together, the moon shining down on you. It was almost too perfect, too unbelievable.

”I didn’t mean it, when I did it first.”

He frowns, “I shouldn’t have done anything either. Let’s just move past it okay?”

You nod, “sorry.”

”It’s okay, I just believe in clean slates. Blame those missionaries that corner you at every port.”

You laugh, “you’re such a clown.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, kissing you again. You don’t want him to stop, letting him take you to bed again.

He’s between your legs for the second time tonight, and you’re determined to keep him there.

#buggy the clown #one piece #buggy x reader #buggy one piece

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hiseyebrowsaregone · 6 months

Note

do you have a list of sterek fic you recommend most?

First I have no idea how long this has been here and I'm sorry that it has took me however long to answer, I never saw the ask before now!

Anyway your (long?) Awaited list!

Will to follow through by owlpostagain

| 2/2 | 42,411 | Teen and Up | Sterek |

“It depends entirely on how you look at it, I guess,” Stiles shrugs. “On the one hand, instant healing and the apparently inherited ability to pull off leather at all times. On the other, serious attitude problems and a suspicious disappearance of eyebrows.”

“Even Derek’s?” Danny snorts, “that’s a lot of eyebrow to lose.”

“I know,” Stiles agrees. “You should see, it’s so weird. Every time I want to ask him where they go, except he’d totally eat my face off.”

“There are worse ways to die.”

Here is the deepest secret nobody knows by owlpostagain

| 1/1 | 22,322 | Teen and Up | Sterek |

“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?”

The gift of death by Lalaith_Quetzalli

| 1/1 | 10,913 | Teen and Up | Sterek |

Stiles realizes he cannot trust Scott, he’s never trusted the Argents, and Derek tries but he cannot do it all alone. Which means that if he wants to stop the kanima before more people die, he’s going to have to step forward himself. It’s time everyone learns who Mieczyslaw ‘Stiles’ Stilinski truly is…

On jest słońcem (He Is The Sun) by haaaveyoumetted

| 3/3 | 6,166 | No rating | Sterek |

"AU where Stiles speaks in Polish to his dad

And maybe he talks to himself in Polish too

And maybe he talks about Derek a lot. Derek’s eyes. Derek’s shoulders. Derek’s adorable teeth. Derek’s arms. Derek Derek Derek

And maybe he has a nickname he calls Derek when he talks about him, because he could pick his own name out of a sentence and that would be embarrassing, right?

And maybe Derek understands every damn word, because you speak many languages Derek Hale

And maybe it kills Derek a little bit that Stiles hasn’t told him about this guy he talks about like he hung the moon. Maybe it kills Derek a little that it’s not him."

There Are No Wolves in California (Werewolves on the Other Hand...) By isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) & KioFox

| 4/4 | 49,010 | mature | Sterek |

“I’m not calming down until you call animal control! I fucking saw it! There were fucking wolves!”

“There are no wolves in California, Mr. Daehler,” the principal said, sounding exasperated, like this was the third time she’d said it to him.

“Well clearly there are!” he shouted back, showing such a lack of respect for the woman, Stiles had to applaud her for her fortitude not to smack him in the face.

“Perhaps you were mistaken,” she said calmly.

“No I wasn’t fucking mistaken,” Matt insisted, sounding incensed. “No way these were dogs, they were massive!”

For a second, Stiles felt like the world had slowed considerably as those words wormed their way into his brain. Because—he knew a dog that was massive. Honestly, he’d also brushed away the idea of the dog being a wolf because there were no wolves in California.

But... what if there were?

Holy shit, had Stiles literally spent his lunch break with a fucking wolf cuddled into his side while he pet it?! Good God, he was lucky to still have all his limbs!

Go Away, Scott by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere

| 45/45 | 66,227 | No rating | Sterek |

After the incident at the warehouse, Stiles is fed up with Scott. He finds himself drawn into Derek’s pack and in the process, drawn to Derek himself.

With the Alpha Pack closing in, Derek needs to learn how to trust his pack and those around him. And who better to help him than Stiles?

I wanna hear (how your heart speaks) by LadySlytherin

| 25/25 | 97,791 | Explicit | Sterek |

When an attack on Derek leaves Stiles as collateral damage and causes him to lose his hearing, the Pack is at a loss. With the Alpha Pack to contend with and his wayward betas barely come to heel, Derek’s already got his hands full. He doesn't have time for an injured human teenager or his sheriff father. But Stiles is pack - something Derek has known for a while - with the potential to be even more. And Derek soon finds that Stiles is more of an asset than anyone realized, even with his new limitations.

As for Stiles, he's about to find out that sometimes when you lose one thing, you gain so much more.

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek #anon answered #anon submission #anonymous #anon ask #anon #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic list #fanfiction recs #sterek recs #sterek fics #sterek fanfic #sterek fanfiction

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harlowsbby · 1 year

Text

Impalas and Air Force 1’s Part 2

The following morning was a daze for Jack his mind was foggy and the pounding headache wasn’t doing him any justice.

“Fuck what the hell happened.”

“Well I’ll tell you what happened, you got fucked up last night and blacked out.” Nemo’s voice frightened Jack since he thought he was the only one in the room.

“Who’s room is this? Where’s Y/N at.” He groaned and thanked Nemo for the water and Tylenol.”

“Uh well last night I tried dropping you off at your hotel room with Y/N but she had rolled her eyes at the sight of you and slammed the door in my face.”

“What? That isn’t like her at all what’s wrong with her.” Nemo shrugged his shoulders and pulled back the curtains in the room almost blinding Jack.

“I don’t know but whatever it is I suggest finding out and quickly because she seemed really upset.”

Jack got up and showered before tossing on a all black sweatsuit he had no intentions on getting dressed up today all he wanted to do was relax and be with you.

When he got outside of course paparazzi and a few fans were waiting for him.

“Jack over here let us take a picture!”

“Jack is it true you got drunk off your ass last night.” Urban stiffed a laugh at the comment because it was true and his plan to get Jack to break up with you worked.

Last night

“What’s the plan Urban? We don’t even have a plan.” Clay was regretting every second of this plan he loved that Jack was happy and in love and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to take that away from him.

“Clay you can’t back out now I understand he’s your brother but that’s also my best friend and he hasn’t even the same since he got with Y/N and you know it.”

I mean sure since he’s been with you he doesn’t really spend much time with Clay anymore or with any of the guys really and certain things he found funny just aren’t funny anymore.

“Fine what’s the plan.”

“When Jack is drunk enough you’ll grab his phone and call her and place his phone close enough to him to where she can hear everything and from there we’ll make it seem as if he butt dialed her and was talking shit about her.”

“Sounds good.”

Back to the following day

Clay had this heavy consciousness weighing over his head he knew he was about to be the reason Jack as well as you were going to be heartbroken that’s why when they got into the SUV his head went towards the floor, there was no way he had the courage to look at you.

“Hi my pretty girl.” Jack smiled and took your hand in his but you quickly pulled it back and huffed before facing the window.

He furrowed his brows and looked over at Neelam who had the same sour look as you plastered on her face.

“What’s wrong? What did I do, last time I checked I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh really you didn’t do anything? A typical response from a man.” Rolling your eyes you moved to sit next to Neelam while Jack looked at you in disbelief.

“What did I do?”

“Not now Jack please it’s early we don’t have time for this.” Neelam scolded him and Jack let it go for the entire car ride he didn’t take his eyes off of you and you knew he was looking at you but you didn’t dare look his way because you knew you’d break down right then and there.

When you all arrived to soundcheck you stayed close to Neelam not wanting to risk your chances of being caught alone by Jack but luck wasn’t on your side.

“Y/N can you get me a water please? I’ll meet you over by the soundcheck stage.” Neelam gave your arm a slight squeeze before walking away without giving you a chance to say anything.

On your way to get the water you thought long and hard about Jack and your relationship with him, you had no idea he felt that way about you and if he felt that way why not just tell you instead of complaining to all his friends.

“Y/N?” You mentally cursed hearing that familiar voice coming from behind you.

“Yes Jack?” You swore he was in soundcheck so why was he back here.

“Why are you avoiding me? I’m not sure what I did but I honestly don’t deserve to be ignored.” Scoffing you rolled your eyes at him was he being serious right now? As if he didn’t know all the bullshit he was saying last night.

“I have a reason to be ignoring you Jack and I know you remember so don’t sit up here and act like you’re the victim.” You couldn’t believe he was actually gas lighting you into thinking you were crazy right now.

“You’re telling me you don’t know what you said about me last night?” Biting your lip your voice crack and your lips began to quiver and there was no way you were about to let him see you break down and cry right now.

“I don’t know what I said Y/N I really don’t baby.”

“Well if you don’t know all the hateful things you said to me then I don’t see the point of us being together I can’t dare a liar and a manipulator and like you said last night you never needed me no way. So what’s the purpose of being together.”

Your words cut deeper than a knife, Jack wasn’t sure what to say so he just let you walk off.

The minute you were out of Jack’s sight you broke down in tears maybe you were the fool that thought you had something special, something different with Jack but he was just like the rest.

The entire day Jack was out of it he wasn’t sure what he said last night to make you this upset with him to the point that you break up with him but he was determined to find out.

It pained him not having you next to him when he took breaks durning sound-checks, during lunch you two would always buy fries and take turns feeding each other but it all wasn’t the same anymore.

“Maybe we went a bit far Urban I mean I’ve never seen Jack like this before.” Clay watched his brother from across the room frowning he watched how Jack put little to no effort into rehearsals when any other day he’d be jumping around the stage with you following behind him.

“Too far? You got your brother back and I got my best friend back shouldn’t you be happy.”

“Crazy thing is I thought I’d be happy but I’m really just drowning in my sorrows.” Urban didn’t feel pity towards Jack he felt in a way that he was doing Jack a favor he beloved Jack was too young to be tied down.

Later that evening Nemo had booked you all a dinner reservation before Jack’s show that night.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“So let’s not all talk at once.” Nemo said earning a few chuckles from everyone but Jack and You stayed silent.

“How was everyone’s day?” 2fo asked.

“My day was wonderful.” Urban stated with his mouth filled with food, Neelam gaged at the sight of the food falling out of his mouth.

“Maybe talk once you’ve finished chewing all of your food.”

“My fault.”

Nemo looked between Jack and You, Jack looked like a lost puppy who was looking for it’s owner meanwhile you looked like you lost your best friend.

“What’s going on with you two? And I want the full truth no bullshit lies.”

“Why don’t you tell your buddy over here or better yet help jog his memory of what he apparently doesn’t remember saying.” You spat at Jack and went back to digging into your steak aggressively.

“How man times do I have to tell you Y/N I don’t know what I did to make you upset or better yet break up with me.”

“Wait you two broke up? When did I miss this chapter.”

“It isn’t even important nor does it matter anymore Jack and I are done and that’s it.”

“So were done just like that? Like I meant nothing to you.” By now everyone at the table looked between Jack and You awkwardly they’ve never seen the two of you fight ever.

“Obviously we’re done Jack after the shit you said about me last night why would I be with someone like you.”

Clay gave Urban a look of regret and sorrow, Urban’s eyes grew wide as Clay stood up.

“I’m sorry Urban and I know you’ll hate me for this but dammit. Urban and I set up this whole thing.”

“What are you talking about Clay?” Jack spoke through gritted teeth.

“Well I was missing my brother I feel like lately you’re main priority is Y/N and I just miss you Jack and Urban missed his best friend so we got you drunk last night and called Y/N from your phone and lied and she thought you were clingy and was using you and I’m just really sorry.” Clay flopped back down on the chair and held his head in his hands.

“Oh shit.” Quiiso and 2fo said in sync.

“Thanks a lot Clay.” Urban mumbled and looked around the room noticing everyone glaring at him.

“Well I know you all hate me and I’m sorry but I did what needed to be done.”

“Y/N baby please understand that everything I said was a lie I never meant any of it I love you with all my heart.” Your lip quivered and your eyes stung with tears you weren’t even sure who to believe anymore.

“I.. I’m sorry Jack but I just need a minute alone I’m so sorry.” You rushed out of the room with Jack right behind you.

“So.. since Jack left who’s got the bill?” 2fo asked which earned him a smack to the head by Neelam.

“What? I’m just asking a question shesh.”

“You see the mess you created Urban you better fix it and fix it fast.” Drama threatened before getting up as well and going back to the hotel room.

Cause lately I’ve been one on one and I’m wondering what your world’s like, or who’s your favorite girl? I wish I could be her.

(lmk what y’all think also thank you @mortirolo for helping me)

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you

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weretheones · 1 year

Text

weretheones' masterlist<3

personal favourites marked with: ♥

Daryl Dixon

Series

♥ All You Got | ongoing | angst, enemies to lovers | ~50k (so far)

↳ Daryl Dixon hadn’t known much beyond anger and loneliness his whole life, until he found family at the end of the world. Everything he grew to care about was ripped away the day the prison fell; so when he recognized you, an enforcer of his loss, hiding in that cabin, he almost pulled the trigger. But after you end up saving his life, he couldn’t find the indifference to leave you for dead, even if you’d been on the Governor’s side. (Mid-Late Season 4 + mild canon divergence)

"all you got" masterlist

Mini-Series

♥ Gone For Good | completed | angst, lots of protective!daryl | 9k (total)

↳ It was easy to lose hope when everyone around you started dropping like flies. When the flu hit, Daryl saw your optimism drain alongside your health, but it wasn’t until the brutal attack of the Governor that he lost his. After escaping by the skin of your teeth, you’re reminded just how cruel this new world could be. (Season 4)

part 1 | part 2

Try | completed | angst/fluff/implied smut | 14k (total)

↳ Daryl Dixon broke your heart. After the world ended, you found him again, but he’s not the same man who rejected you. (Pre-Series & onward)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | 18+ ONLY

Oneshots (newest to oldest)

No Rush | smut, porn without plot | 1k

↳ Daryl took his time with you. 18+ ONLY

Good Intentions | holiday fic - fluff | 2k

↳ Daryl was certain something went wrong on that run, it was the only reason why you’d be so late coming back. Until, you proved him wrong. (Season 3-4)

♥ Silver Springs | major angst | 5k

↳ Something has always lingered between you and Daryl, even if the world never settled long enough to let it grow. Four years after Rick’s death, that hasn’t changed, but it doesn’t stop you from seeking him out by that river when Judith gets sick. (Season 9/10)

To The Bone| fluff | 1k

↳ You can’t stop shivering and Daryl can’t fall asleep. (Season 2-3 interim)

Tremble | angst/fluff |5k

↳ When an impromptu run gets Daryl hurt, you tend to his wound. (Season ¾)

♥ Alone | angst/fluff | 4k

↳ The prison cells might have been safe, but after months on the road, you couldn’t sleep. Not alone, at least. (Season 3)

You’re Different | angst/fluff | 3k

↳ A close call pushes Daryl to confess; if he was going to die, he wasn’t going to go without telling you why’d he’d take a bullet for you in the first place, or why, for him, you were so different than anyone else. (Season 3)

Speak Up | fluff | 2k

↳ Daryl had almost given up on confessing his feelings to you, falling victim to his self-doubts and the predictable solace of silence. Then Maggie and Carol opened their big mouths. (Season 5/6)

Observant | fluff | >1k

↳ Daryl only ever heard Merle’s crude flirtations, but even he could think of something better than that guy’s stupid moon line– it only took a little observation. (Season 5)

♥ Doctor’s Orders | angst | 7k

↳ When a sprained ankle takes you off run duty, the new girl goes in your place. Which would’ve been fine– if she didn’t have that brilliant wit, gorgeous smile, and effortless skill. But she did. And it was only a matter of time before Daryl noticed too. (Season 4)

♥ Breathe Through It | angst/fluff | 4k

↳ When you come down with the flu, Daryl’s ready to fight through fifty miles of walkers, people– anything to get you those meds. (Season 4)

Heartburn | angst | 6k

↳ After a drunken confession and a gentle rejection, there was only one way to describe how seeing Daryl made you feel. Burned. The two of you grow distant while your wounds still sizzle. Daryl finds himself facing a choice he never expected: let you slip from his grasp or admit his deepest secret. (Season 5/6)

Rick Grimes

Oneshots (newest to oldest)

♥ Untied | angst | 2k

↳ After months of friendship, Rick’s suddenly started avoiding you. You decide enough is enough and confront him. (Season 4)

Rest | angst/fluff | 1k

↳ Some days, it felt like the weight of the world rested on Rick’s shoulders. The night after the farm fell was no exception. (Season 2)

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helpinghanikan · 1 year

Text

Best kind of revenge

Sum: The best kind of revenge is to treat your enemy's ex-wife right.

Features: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" McTavish, Alejandro Vargas, Rudolfo Parra.

Ch.2 Scar the neighbors

Ch.3 Abrupt ending

Ch. 1: The handsome man at the bar

The team of four tried to be subtle when making their way into the bar. Ghost went in first, taking over a table in the corner. Alejandro and Rudy followed shortly after, one on either side of the bar. Soap was the last to come in, hanging out by the door just incase you tried to make an exit without their permission.

They’re all dressed like civilians. A lot of jeans and sweaters. If it weren’t for their accents and good looks they would have fit in with the blue-collar crowd. The only outlier would have been Ghost, who was probably grateful for the cold weather outside. It was helped explain away the black mask covering half of his face.

Someone has probably been on your tail for the last month. Ever since you got that email from Laswell explaining all of your ex-husbands crimes.

“How are you doing over here?” The bartender asks, a younger woman whose been your best friend these last few weeks.

Your drink was nearing its end but getting actually drunk wouldn’t be a good idea tonight.

“I’m still nursing, thanks though.” You say, looking back over to the mohawk at the bar’s end.

Philip Graves was never the greatest partner, but he was a good guy. At least you thought he was during your relationship. But body cam of killing civilians is never a good look.

A glass is set down in front of you.

“No, I’m good.” You repeat to the bartender.

“It’s not from me, honey.” She says, nodding towards the crowd behind you.

Graves had left quite a bit of stuff at the house. Among those were personnel files of almost every solider he’s ever spoken to on a laptop you definitely didn’t have the password to. This was how you knew the six men following you. Among these six was Colonel Alejandro Vargas. A.K.A the handsome man at the far end of the bar staring right at you.

Might as well play along. Raising the glass towards him in thanks and taking a sip. It’s a fruity little drink. The kind that girls who can’t shoot whiskey order. It’s absolutely delicious.

“He just told me the ingredients and I made it for him.” The bartender explains when you mention how good it was.

“So a man I don’t know asked to make me a drink with random ingredients and you just did?” You ask incredulous. Although it didn’t stop you from taking some more sips.

The bartender shrugged. “I honestly wanted to see what would come out of it. Sorry about that.”

Great, you’re one ally in here is either against you or just an idiot.

Aside for the six men and one bartender there were five other patrons here. None of them you really knew aside for a head nod. This bar was too close to the highway to be a regular watering hole. It was one of the reasons that you always chose to come here.

You don’t need to look to know that someone has taken a seat on your left.

“I see you enjoyed the drink,” came an accented voice to your left.

It seems Alejandro was a very confident man. You have to be to make it far in any military. But you couldn’t just be confident to get what you want while in the field. You also have to be smart. And when you’re in the field on an unsanctioned ‘mission’? Well, you’re going to have to be very smart.

“I did,” You replied, “Honestly it seemed a bit much to buy a girl you don’t know. Tequila is usually the first choice.”

Alejandro chuckles at that, it almost sounds genuine. Casually, as if he’s been coming here his entire life, he gestures for the bartender. Asking for a beer that the bartender was quick to come back with. Giving you a look as if to say; “get it, girl.”

“No, tequila would be too cheap for a woman like you.” Alejandro says, taking the beer for a long drink.

The bar’s lightening hasn’t been updated since the nineties. Covered with dust and bulbs that went out of stock before you graduated high school. And yet, Alejandro looked absolutely stunning under it.

With his head tilted back slightly you can see the outline of his jaw. How most of his face is hidden by a thin layer of shadow, but that does nothing to dull the effect his smile has on everyone in the room. He smiles like a fox. A predator that doesn’t just want to eat you, he wants to devour you and taste the screams he can force you to make.

“You deserve something better,” Alejandro adds, setting down his beer for emphasis.

When was the last time you were with someone? It’s been at least a few months, maybe half a year already. The last time you got bent was with Graves, and that was hurried in an airport bathroom because he plane leaving soon. Did you even cum then? Not likely, but Graves certainly did.

“Are you married?” You ask, looking at drink you had finished a minute ago.

You can see Alejandro raise an eyebrow when you ask this.

“No, not married.” He says.

“I’m not either,” You reply standing up and taking his hand. “So, there’s no point in holding back.”

This wasn’t the kind of bar that you hook up in. It’s a one stall bathroom that you couldn’t imagine getting on your knees in. Not that it was completely filthy but because the walls were thin as paper. Being able to hear everything that happens makes it a pretty awkward spot, it also made it perfect to declare to the world that you were now free of Graves.

Leading him by the hand Alejandro followed you into the bathroom. His mouth on yours when the door was fully shut. The wood straining against your combined weight when he pressed into you.

He kisses with his teeth. Biting onto your bottom lip; starting roughly, almost drawing blood, before going slower. Kissing you gently as quickly as he pulled you to his body.

“Fuck, you’re good.” He mumbles, letting his tongue explore into your mouth.

“Thank you. More.” You demand, wanting tongue not dialogue.

His hands are hot, almost boiling, as they slide down the back of your pants. Skipping the bases and going straight to cupping your bare ass. His dull nails digging into the soft cheeks, almost painfully. But you aren’t stopping him.

It’s still hard to say whether Alejandro knows you know who he is. It’s confusing, but you shouldn’t even know his name. He didn’t give it to you before being pulled into the bathroom. At the same time you didn’t give your name either. You were two strangers who knew eachother, fucking before deciding if you’ll survive the night.

Like a dance Alejandro walks you backwards. Gently stepping with his hips doing most of the guiding. Pressing his crotch into yours until the bathroom wall is against your back.

“I’m going to taste you, okay? Is that okay?” He pulls away to ask.

His eyes, already brown and beautiful, are dilated from excitement. They’re still staring at your lips, waiting for your answer.

“Yeah, but you don’t-if you don’t want to you don’t have to.” You say, that need to please stronger than the urge to take.

Alejandro gives you the predators smile. He might have given you the illusion of control, but it would always be his mouth on your throat. He proves this now, kissing and dragging his teeth over the pulse point of your throat. It draws out a moan, but it’s mainly a distraction. A way for Alejandro to sneakily open the front of your pants without making a show about it.

“Oh, but I want to.” Alejandro whispers, his warmth leaving as he kneels down at your feet.

Cold air instantly creates goosebumps on your thighs. Alejandro pulling your pants down to your ankles. Getting your right boot off without a second thought. Doing so quickly to free only one of your legs from the pants. He only need one, just one to lift over his shoulder and allow his access to your pussy.

“Oh, fuck.” You whisper, hands in dark hair.

“That’s good, but that’s just a start.” Alejandro says, and it’s impossible to tell if it’s supposed to be a warning or a promise.

There’s no warmup, there’s no teasing. The only foreplay you get is the moving of your underwear. Sliding it over to make room for his tongue.

It’s a powerful touch, one that sends a feeling through your body like a gun shot. It’s more surprising than pleasurable. The wall meets your head when throwing it back, groaning out in appreciation and also wanting something more than just surprise touches.

Your leg is moved up over his shoulder, your heel digging into his back.

From your entrance to the clit Alejandro licks his way through your body. He does so slowly, flattening his tongue as he goes back and forth.

The initial build in your body takes a few seconds. Again, it’s been a minute since you’ve gotten someone to down on you. That Alejandro did so without hesitation, even bringing up the idea, made this so much better. It makes you desirable, needed, a precious person that Alejandro didn’t want to share with anyone.

His hot breath on your lips, his hand on your thigh, tongue sliding in built in your gut. Warmth and electricity grow from your clit, through your stomach, and against your breasts. It’s moving so quickly that your brain has probably been affected by the pleasure that runs through your body.

“Okay, okay, yeah. Oh please!” You started to beg, rolling your hips with his licking.

His fingers slide through the spit and wetness. Two digits penetrating you with solid pressure that keeps a steady pace back and forth. He moans at the tight feeling, making sure you knew just how much he appreciates the feeling.

“Alejandro, fuck!” You call out, wanting the entire world to know who was doing this.

You don’t feel the bit of hesitation when Alejandro hears his name. Mainly out of confusion (fake identities were decided in the car) but also out of almost panic. He didn’t know much about the ex-wife of Philip Graves, only that you were key to revenge.

And what better revenge than making your enemies wife cum hard?

Your head practically bangs against the wall. Pleasure taking complete control in a feeling that can only be described as cold. It tightens in your gut, it presses your breasts, fogs your brain, and forces your mouth to call out for a god you might not even believe in.

He doesn’t stop when you start crying out. Keeping with the rhythm that started the orgasm and adding a squeeze to your thigh. His non-verbal way of saying “make the world hear, baby. Be so loud that Graves will hear your orgasm from hell.”

Eventually the orgasm has to leave. When it does your drained, wobbly, almost forgetting where you were and who you were with. Only looking down at Alejandro’s (wet) face reminded you of the mistake you had just made.

“How’d you know my name?” He asks, a smile on his face as if he was the one on top.

There is an illusion of confidence you’ve been using since learning the truth about Graves. It’s carried you through the divorce, the secrets, and everything else that has come your way. But looking down at Alejandro, being given the best tongue in your life, it made that illusion dissolve.

“Because of Graves. I know all your names.” You explain. “I know that’s why you’re here.”

#reader insert #call of duty alejandro vargas #call of duty reader insert #Simon riley x reader #John mctavish x reader #Alejandro Vargas x reader #Rudolfo Parra x reader #Mentioned Philip Graves x reader #Divorced reader #reader is afab

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loveyourownsmiilee · 2 years

Text

Why am I so certain Buddie is possibly going canon this season???

Oliver started posting and actually tagging Ryan in his IG. Something he hasn’t don’t since season 3.

Oliver and Ryan both shared Aisha’s videos of them sleeping on set. Ryan hasn’t shared Oliver on his IG since season 3.

They both followed each other back on IG after unfollowing each other before the beginning of season 4.

The cast seems happier and more open to sharing bts footage with us. Something we haven’t seen from any of them since before season 5.

Oliver and Ryan are always seen next to each other or turned towards one another. Body language is EVERYTHING. They have to trust one another to be able to freely fall asleep in each other’s presence.

Not only that but once more, actors tend to stay in character even while they’re on break from filming. So if Buck and Eddie are side by side, closer than ever, then so will Ryan and Oliver.

Oliver and Ryan are doing promotion for the show, in a joint interview. This hasn’t been done since season 2 and only because Ryan was the new star on the show. And he was often paired with Oliver because of the Buck and Eddie partnership.

So the fact that they’re now being partnered on interviews…somethings definitely had to have changed between their characters.

Oliver is more confident in showing Ryan on his IG when before he would just tease us with bts and have us try and figure it out later on that he was teasing Buddie scenes. Now he straight up let’s us know. If they weren’t good and wholesome scenes, he wouldn’t even bother.

Both men are in better spirits and seem to just be having an overall good time filming.

Both men have stated many times they wouldn’t mind playing Buck and Eddie romantically.

Eddie and Buck have been through something traumatically together and have also gotten through it, together.

Eddie was vulnerable in front of Buck. Buck will probably have the chance to allow himself to be fully vulnerable in front of Eddie.

They’re a whole family along with Christopher and season 5 has shown us how close they are. No one can or will come between them.

Both Buck and Eddie are single at the same time. Eddie’s working on realizing who he is and what he wants. Buck is working on his self worth and who he wants as a partner.

Season 6 is happening. Buddie is happening. We’re so close guys. So fucking close.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #ryan guzman #oliver stark #911 spoilers #jujus having thoughts #give me buddie or give me hell

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codyrhodey · 10 months

Text

Sweetheart | Kenny Omega x Male Reader

all fluff !!

Kenny and y/n grew up together. Both having a shared dream of becoming professional wrestlers one day.

Kenny was a year older than y/n, and when he graduated high school in 2007, the two slowly drifted apart.

Kenny went straight into wrestling, he tried going to college but quickly realized it was not for him. So he dropped out to pursue his dream.

Y/n decided to go to college, pursuing a degree in creative writing. His dream of being a wrestler had faded over time, but his love for wrestling didn’t go away.

Y/n’s last year of high school was definitely hard. He wasn’t the coolest guy by any means, and Kenny was usually too busy for him. He was traveling all over the world, meeting new people, and didn’t have as much time for y/n.

So when y/n went to college, and wasn’t at home when Kenny came to visit. The two drifted further and further.

There was the occasional call, to ask how the other was doing. But besides that, it was nothing like before.

There was no late night calls that lead to all nighters, or rewatching their favorite glee moments and giggling. There was no more cuddling and getting a little too close for two guys who are just supposed to be friends. No more “i love you, drive safe”s.

They became like strangers. It hurt both of them at first, even though neither would say it. So instead they just disappeared from each others lives.

Y/n had been writing his ass off for years. He’s had a few books published and helped write on a sitcom for a while, but that’s it. So when he was reached out to by Cody Rhodes to come be on the creative team for his new wrestling promotion, he jumped at the opportunity.

Y/n was sitting in his apartment in jacksonville. He moved in last week and hasn’t done much. But his first day was today, he’d be meeting with Cody, Tony, and some of the top wrestlers in the promotion.

Meanwhile as y/n was getting ready to go, Kenny was putting away his stuff in the shiny new locker room.

“Cody,” Kenny sighed putting his hands on his hips, “this is amazing.”

Cody smiled placing a hand on his shoulder, “i couldn’t have done this without people like you by my side.”

“And tony’s money” Kenny cut in.

Cody chuckled, “yes and tony’s money.” He rolled his eyes beginning to walk away, “oh-“ he stopped turning around, “don’t forget, we have a meeting in uh” he checked his watch, “15 minutes, with everyone and some new people in creative.”

Kenny nodded pulling out his phone, mindlessly scrolling as he followed behind Cody.

Y/n got out of his car grabbing his backpack from the passenger seat. He took one last deep breath before closing his door and making his way into the building.

Cody gave him incredibly vague directions on where to go.

“Fucking shit” he mumbled to himself pulling out his phone.

“Hello?” Cody answered.

“Hey cody! It’s y/n, um i just got here, i’m just not really sure where to go.” you trailed off, looking around the large room.

“Oh hey y/n! yea sorry about that, i’m kind of shit at directions, i’ll send someone out to get you, are you still by the front door?”

“mhm” you said rocking back and fourth on your heels.

“Alright give me like 2 minutes and i’ll have someone grab you.” Cody hung up the phone, sliding it back into his pocket.

He looked around at the people around him, before his eyes landed on kenny, “Kenny, kenny kenny kennny” he sang.

Kenny looked up at him raising an eyebrow.

“One of the new writers is here, he’s at the front door and lost. Can you go grab him for me?”

Kenny nodded standing up from the chair he was in.

“Be back.” He said walking out the door.

He pulled his phone out again, going into him and Matt jackson’s messages.

🏳️‍🌈Kenny: You almost here? We’re about to start.

🍗Matty: Yea yea i’m about to pull up, sorry.

(sent with voice text)

Kenny nodded to himself putting his phone in his pocket looking back up at his surroundings.

He didn’t know what this guy looked like or what his name was, but there was only one person standing in the lobby looking lost so he thought it was a safe assumption.

“Hey,” he tapped the guy on the shoulder. Causing y/n to jump a bit dropping his phone.

Kenny giggled, “sorry did i scare you?”

“N-no i knew you were coming.” He huffed bending over and grabbing his phone before turning around to face Kenny.

Y/n’s breath hitched in his throat as he locked eyes with the other man.

“Kenny?” He whispered, almost too quiet to be heard.

Kenny was staring back at him, wide eyed.

“Oh my god-“ Kenny started still in shock.

It had been 10 years since the two had seen each other and 9 years since they last spoke.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” Kenny broke the silence, the biggest smile forming on his face.

Y/n smiled back, excitedly pulling Kenny into a hug.

Kenny immediately hugged him back squeezing him tight. He missed him a lot, but assumed due to the lack of calls, he forgot about him. There was always something more with y/n but at the time Kenny couldn’t admit that to himself. He wasn’t out as bisexual at the time. While y/n was always out as gay, so even if at the time Kenny did know he liked him, he didn’t want to make y/n deal with being with someone still in the closet.

He continued to hold y/n close to him, rocking the two of them back and forth.

“Oh my god i missed you so much!” Kenny basically screamed.

“I missed you too Kenny but you’re crushing me.” Y/n giggled

“Oh shit sorry,” Kenny let go but not all the way, keeping his hands on y/n’s shoulders, “i’m just so strong” he smirked.

Y/n rolled his eyes, “so strong and still a sarcastic little bitch.”

Kenny brought his hands up to his chest, acting fake hurt, “how could you! I am incredibly offended, I don’t know how we’ll move on from this.”

“Whatever will i do without Kenny in my life, maybe the same thing i’ve been doing for the last 10 years.” Y/n said walking past Kenny.

“Hey! You don’t even know where you’re going!” Kenny shouted after him.

“Gonna follow this dude,” He pointed at Matt who had just walked in, “he looks more important than you.”

Kenny gasped running after the two of them as they all made their way to the conference room.

The meeting lasted longer than it needed too, Kenny almost fell asleep a few times. Listening to Cody speak for longer than 5 minutes was a chore, he felt like he was in a classroom. Cody’s choice of words perfectly matched his egotistical personality.

Kenny was sat next to y/n who was sat next to Adam Page. Y/n was taking a bunch of notes that Adam was very interested in. The two of them scooted closer to eachother halfway through the meeting, giggling at stupid jokes one of them would make.

Kenny was slightly annoyed but he didn’t know why. He didn’t wanna listen to Cody’s long drawn out speech, but he also didn’t wanna listen to y/n and Adam giggle to eachother.

When the meeting finally came to a close, Cody thanked everyone for coming and walked out of the room, Brandi following behind him.

“That was tiring.” Nick said, stretching in his chair, “I feel like i’ve been here for 13 hours!” He yelled dramatically slamming his head down on the table.

Everyones heads snapped over to him, “Nick, bud, it was maybe 2 hours.” Adam laughed out.

“Shhhh, let me sleep.” Nick responded.

Adam shrugged and stood up, “Well y/n it was very nice to meet you,” he smiled, “i have alot of trust that you will write amazing stories for us all.”

Y/n smiled, “thank you Adam, i appreciate it.”

Adam nodded at him before exiting the room as well.

“Sooo,” Kenny began scooting his chair closing to y/n��s, “you and Adam huh?” He nudged y/n’s shoulder.

“Shut up kennert.” Y/n groaned

“You like him?”

“I do not actually, he’s not really my type” Y/n responded shrugging.

“not your type? he’s beautiful!” Kenny said shocked.

“You’re sounding a little fruity there Kenny,” y/n giggled turning toward him so they were facing eachother, “maybe you have a crush on him.”

“Eh been there done that.” he responded in a non-chalant way.

“What?” y/n responded eyes wide, “you’re?” he brought up his hand and bent it at the wrist.

Kenny froze, y/n didn’t know he was bi, he totally forgot. Everyone he interacts with knows he ‘swings both ways’ so he didn’t even think about it.

“um, i- uh” Kenny stammered, “is it hot in here?”

“kenny, i’m literally gay” y/n chuckled, “i don’t care if you are”

“yea yea it’s just-“ he stopped, “it’s been a while since a new person found out about it, ya know?”

y/n nodded, “so if you’ve been there done that,” he mocked, “and you’re fruity,” he did the hand thing again, “then are you jealous mr omega?” He teased laughing softly.

Kenny stopped for a second. He used to have feelings for y/n, and he will admit he still looked absolutely amazing. But that bridge had already been crossed. There was no way there could be anything between them now.

“Kenny, i’m kidding,” y/n cut in, “but i would be very flattered if you were.”

Y/n stood up out of his chair, “so” he stared down at the still sitting Kenny, “wanna hang out?” He didn’t know why he was nervous to ask but he was. He felt his palms start to sweat and he was avoiding eye contact with kenny.

“mmmm,” kenny drummed his fingers on the table, “watcha wanna do?”

y/n let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, “wanna come over? play some mario kart?”

Kenny nodded with a smile standing up out of his seat as well.

“Shall we?” He asked holding out his hand to y/n.

“We shall,” y/n took his hand and the two walked out together hand in hand.

They had been at Kenny’s for a few hours. Y/n insisted they went over there since he hadn’t unpacked anything yet.

The two were sitting on Kenny’s love seat, both of their legs up on the ottoman, y/n’s on top of kenny’s.

“Can we be done playing now?” Kenny whined throwing his arms up in defeat.

“You only wanna be done because you’ve lost the last 8 races” y/n teased.

“You’ve kept track?” Kenny’s voice went high. He pulled his legs up onto the couch crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well when you’re a winner,” y/n pretended to dust off his shoulders, “you wanna know your record, not that you’d know what being a winner is like.”

“Oh that’s it” Kenny lunged forward at y/n, tackling him onto the couch.

“Noo nooo” y/n yelled.

Kenny straddled y/n staring down at him, “any last words?”

y/n squinted his eyes, “you suck at mario kart.”

“you’re gonna get it now.”

Kenny started tickling y/n, squeezing his sides, expecting him to erupt in laughter but instead there was silence.

Kenny stopped, staring at y/n. He cocked his head to the side, “what?” he questioned, out of breath from his attack.

Y/n took this as his opportunity to strike back. He lunged forward causing kenny to lose balance and fall down onto his back. Y/n began to squeeze his sides, reaching under his shirt to make sure he got the ultimate tickle.

Kenny erupted into a loud unrestrained laugh. Wriggling from side to side, “y/n stop stop” he begged between laughs, “can’t breathe” he continued laughing.

Finally, y/n stopped, “i win again” he said smugly.

“I think i won” Kenny said softly gazing into y/n’s eyes.

Y/n was laughing so he didn’t hear Kenny.

Finally y/n stood up off of Kenny, offering a hand to help him up.

Kenny took it and stood up, the two of them stood dangerously close to eachother.

Kenny’s mind was racing. He felt like no time had passed between him and his old friend. He still felt that spark between them. He sighed, continuing to stare into y/n’s eyes, wishing he could read his mind.

Y/n stood there, staring back at Kenny. He was so beautiful. When they were younger y/n always had the biggest crush on him but Kenny was never anything but straight, atleast that’s he thought. Knowing now that he was some kind of gay, y/n thought about all of the moments they shared when they were younger and if maybe they meant more than he thought.

Kenny reached up, cradling y/n’s face in his hands, “you are the most breathtaking person i have ever seen in my entire life.”

Kenny couldn’t believe he just did that, but it was 20+ years of pent up feelings for the man standing across from him and his brain was no longer functioning.

“I’m sorry,” Kenny stopped himself going to remove his hands but y/n stopped him. Placing his hands over kenny’s.

“Just kiss me kenny.”

And so he did. Kenny pulled y/n into a kiss. Kenny’s chest felt like it was going to explode. When people described feeling fireworks, he knew this is what they meant.

Y/n gasped when their lips connected, his knee’s immediately went weak. This was something he had been waiting for for years. Kenny’s lips were soft and warm and he felt like home.

Y/n pulled away first, resting his forehead on kenny’s.

“Should’ve done that a long time ago huh” Kenny giggled, placing another short peck to y/n’s lips.

“Mmm not my fault.” Y/n reached his hands under Kenny’s shirt, for nothing more than to feel his warm skin, Kenny felt safe.

Kenny chuckled pulling y/n into his chest, “nothings ever your fault is it sweetheart?”

Y/n nuzzled his face into Kenny’s neck, shaking his head which caused Kenny to squirm. He pressed small gentle kisses to his shoulder.

“Can’t get enough of me huh?” Kenny asked quietly, continuing to hold him. He may have asked the question to poke fun at him, but he couldn’t get enough of y/n either.

“Making up for too much lost time omega.”

The two of them stood there in each others arms until their legs got tired. They then retreated back to the couch. Their limbs tangled together, doing whatever they had to do to remain touching.

#kenny omega #kenny omega x reader #aew #aew wrestling #male reader #fluff fic #one shot #kenny omega x male reader #wwe #njpw

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