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reidsdimples · 1 day

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The First Time

Spencer Reid x Reader

The BAU helps you on a case, things get heated between you and Spencer.

Spencer takes your virginity 🤭

18+❤️‍🔥

You rock gently back and forth on the wooden porch swing. The night Is quiet, peaceful. Only a small breeze stirring up leaves to keep your thoughts of the day at bay.

It was over. The lakeside killer was dead. Thanks to the BAU, your small town of Rockwell can rest easy again. You can breathe. You’re one of two homicide detectives in the whole town and you’ve only been at it for a year- this case nearly destroyed you.

Kids.

Why kids?

It’s always kids they want to hurt. You blink back tired and sigh.

“Hey,” comes a soft voice followed by soft steps on the wooden porch. The BAU team is staying at the lodge, set for departure in the morning. It was the only accommodations the deportment could offer.

“Dr. Reid. I thought everyone was asleep,” you give him a half smile and sip your tea. He’s wearing his FBI jacket that seems unbelievably comfortable.

“Most of them are, I had no luck though,” he gives you a sympathetic grin. The three small bodies recovered today didn’t make the murderers death feel like a victory.

“Me either,” you shrug.

You know then just how much he gets it, pain recognizes pain. He feels it, he’s seen it. You pat the bench for him to sit next to you, he does so.

Talking to Spencer always reminded you of talking to an old friend. This was the second time you’d met him, though before was under better circumstances. You were relived he was the one who came outside and your stomach whirled when he sat beside you.

“I feel disgusting after today. The things we see… do you think they tarnish us?“ You ask him.

“We are a culmination of how we identify ourselves and thus present ourselves to the outside world. If you let it, it can consume you. It’s hard not to make these things apart of us, not to become some uglier version of ourselves,” he answers, fidgeting with his fingers.

“I’ll just have to take solace in knowing he can’t hurt anyone ever again,” you nod. You rub at the back of your neck, the tension in your head pounding.

“There are actually a few pressure points to more adequately elevate headaches, here I’ll show you,” Spencer says. He prompts you to turn from him on the swing. You swallow, unable to say anything. Is he about to touch you?

“This…” his long fingers drape over your shoulders, his thumbs pressing into the base of your neck. “Is known as the shoulder well.” He adds more pressure and moves his thumbs in a circular motion. The tension trailing up your neck warms and starts to ease.

He continues to press into the spot that seems to force your entire body to relax. His hands working skillfully I so the muscles, his fingertips grazing over your collarbones. Somehow a small moan slips out and you hope he doesn’t hear it. Only he pauses, falters in his rhythm. He heard you.

“They call this the gates of consciousness,” his voice is lower. His hands move up your neck, his thumbs at the base of your skull. His touch sends shivers and electricity through you. Your nipples harden but he can’t know that. He presses into the space between your tense neck muscles, willing the tension into submission. It works.

“Spencer,” his name slips out and your head lulls back towards him. The blinding headache has subsided. All you can think about is his hands on you.

The warmth in his fingers as he grips your neck to hold your head up, his suddenly noticeable body heat in the space between you, and his scent all become overwhelming.

His hands move from your neck to your head, his middle fingers gently rubbing your temples. Then somehow you find that you’re leaning back into his chest. His hushed breathing steady, he doesn’t seem to mind.

The swing sways gently, only one of his legs on the ground to steady it. His other leg folded beneath you. He stops his massaging and lays an arm across your chest, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He squeezes your shoulder reassuringly while his other hand brushes through your hair. You close your eyes and take in the sensation of his touch while the wind chimes play softly in the autumn breeze.

You’ve never been touched this way, never felt the warmth gather between your legs at a man’s actions. It’s new, you welcome it.

“You’re beautiful in the moonlight,” he hums as he mindlessly runs his fingers through your hair. It takes you off guard, leaving you feeling exposed as your cheeks heat.

You squirm against him but manage to look upward at him. He looks down at you, the top of your head against his chest as you strain to see him. He’s breathtaking. You reach up and touch his face, grazing his jawline with your fingertips. He clenches it, attempting to maintain some modicum of control.

If you weren’t you, if you weren’t inexperienced, you would invite him to bed. You can’t do that though, you’ve never had sex. It would surely be awkward. You sigh and drop your hand, the need turning into agony in the pit of your stomach. You won’t ask that of this brilliant man. You sit up and break contact with him altogether.

“What’s wrong?” He placed a hand on your thigh, looking at you through concerned brown eyes.

“I-“ you pause. You don’t know how to tell him you want him, much less that you’re a virgin. You don’t want any pressure placed on him. You just shake your head, words failing you. You stand from the swing look off of the porch into the night.

He moves quietly to stand behind you, you stop breathing when his tall lean frame closes around you. His arms wrap you into him and he sways gently.

“I know we should keep this professional,” he whispers in your ear. His breath brushing your neck and making you come alive. “But you drive me crazy.”

His words are clipped, hurried, hushed, and needy. He turns you to face him and before you can respond, you’re leaning up to meet his kiss. His hands grip your face, his mouth invading yours hungrily. You twist your fists into his shirt, a couple of the buttons popping open as you pull him closer. Both of you desperate for touch, for comfort.

His hands fall and find your waist, gripping tight, before traveling up your shirt.

You inhale sharply and jump, sensitive to his touch. A foreign delicious sensation sweeping over you.

He pauses and stares into your eyes, his own blown wide with need.

“Have you never been touch before?” He speaks softly.

You shake your head ‘no’ shyly. He grins and leans down to kiss you delicately. He intertwines his fingers with yours.

“Follow me,” he instructs and leads you quietly back into the massive lodge where everyone is staying.

He pulls you playfully behind him up the wooden stairs, his finger length hair falling messily as he walks. Your eyes trace his long legs, taking in how his pants hug his waist. Your mouth waters, actually waters.

Finally you’re in his room, it’s almost completely dark save for the sparse moonlight trickling through the drapes.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You ask him as he closes the space between the two of you.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He seems perplexed.

“Maybe,” you giggle.

“I want to make you feel good, I’ll go as far as you’re comfortable taking this,” he tilts your chin up to kiss you.

“I just don’t want to put pressure on you because I’ve never…” you trail off.

“You’re not,” he reassures you. He steps forward, his hands resting on your hips, prompting you to walk backward.

The backs of your knees find the bed and he guides you down into it. You exhale softly when he pushes your shirt up, hands gliding over your skin.

“So soft,” he praises and plants a kiss on your stomach. He’s kneeling between your legs, planting whispers of kisses across your stomach from one hip bone to the other.

He yanks your pants down abruptly and slides your panties down with them, discarding them.

You immediately feel exposed and squeeze your legs closed. But then his hands are trailing up your legs from your ankles to your thighs. It sends waves of euphoria over your body and you arch your back when he parts your legs once more.

“You don’t have to hide,” he plants a kiss on your inner thigh. You groan and squirm beneath him.

He pulls your legs onto his shoulders before reaching up and squeezing your breasts hard. He looks breathtaking between your legs, drawing out your moans as he rolls your nipples between his fingers.

“Spencer,” you beg. His breath fans across your vagina in a sweet tortuous way that stirs a need so intense that your eyes roll back.

He slides his fingers down your slit, a noise of appreciation comes from his throat when he finds you wet. He coats his fingers in it before slowly pressing his middle finger into you. It’s new, but it feels so good. You tense up in anticipation.

“Relax, it’ll feel better,” he coaches and pushes into you further. “You’re so tight,” he muses.

He slowly moves his long middle finger in and out and brings his tongue down to your clit. You cry out as pleasure envelopes you. He sucks hard and curves his finger upward causing you to buck against him. You moan as his tongue and finger drive you wild, beckoning closer to the edge.

“Fuck,” you cry and grind against his face. You’ve never felt so good, you didn’t know pleasure like this existed.

He dips his tongue into with his finger and trails it back up to your clit.

“So sweet,” he praises against you and continues his torture.

You are wound so impossible right that it’s almost painful, he has you moaning and crying out into the room. Your legs are shaking around his head and he only picks up the pace with his finger.

“Shhh, don’t wake the others,” he warns. His words coming out between lapping at your cunt cause you to cum with a restrained groan.

You shake against him and he removed his finger, pleased with himself. His grin drives you crazy so you grab him by his collar and pull him on top of you.

“Mmmm,” he moans. “What do you want me to do to you now?” He hovers above you and nips at your neck with his teeth. You feel his cock straining against his pants, prompting you to reach down and unbuckle his pants.

Your need for him is so primal, so singular, that you can’t focus on anything else. He helps you and pulls his pants partially down.

He pushes your legs back, opening you wider for him.

“Remember what I said, focus on relaxing,” he instructs. You nod, biting your lip which he notices. He kisses you hard, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.

He pushes his cock against your entrance, pressing in gently. Your breathing hitches as your body begins to expand around the head of his cock. He’s not even in yet, but it burns.

Spencer grips your hair, moving slowly as he eases himself into you.

“Ah,” you wince.

“It’s okay baby, you can take it,” he reassures you. “Breathe,” he whispers.

When you exhale slowly he pushes in further. You feel it the moment your hymen breaks with a sharp sting but then he’s able to push himself in further.

That slight pain gives way to intense pleasure and then he’s inside of you completely. He shudders and a moan erupts from deep inside of his chest.

He pulls his hips back, working his cock out of you before pushing himself back in.

“You feel so good,” he grunts and links his fingers with yours.

Your hands are linked above your head, he thrusts into you slowly and desperately. The sounds of your moans feel the room and entangle with his breathy whimpers. His other hand grips your thigh as he rolls deeper and deeper into you.

Raw pleasure consumes you until you know nothing but the connection of your bodies, his breathing, his cock beckoning you to the edge.

“You’re doing so good,” he moans. Your free hind curls into his hair, forcing him to look eyes with you.

His mouth falls open as he rocks in and out of you. You lose yourself in him, you lose the ability to restrain your moans. He crashes his mouth into yours, absorbing the sounds. He tastes like mint and salt. He tastes delicious and your tongues fight for dominance. Your hips thrust upward to meet he’s rhythm and you think you’re going to cum again.

You didn’t think you’d be able to because of the pain but it’s too good, he’s too good.

“Spencer,” you break the kiss and shatter as he pauses so you can ride your orgasm out against him. Fuck.

“So pretty cumming for me,” he whispers breathlessly. “I’m gonna-“ he grunts and pulls partially out of you.

You feel him shudder, his cock pulsing, and then you feel his warmth flood you. He pulls out the rest of the way, allowing his cum to pour out of you. He watches in awe for a moment, his tongue darting across his bottom lip.

His short hair is tousled, his forehead beading with sweat, and his lips are plump and raw from kissing you.

“Let me run you a bath,” he offers. You drag the blanket over yourself and smile when you nod.

He stands to his full height, tugs his pants up, and leans down to kiss you.

“You did so good,” he grins and disappears into the bathroom.

#mgg #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid one shots #mgg pics #dr Reid #spicy spencer reid #matthew gray gubler

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ashesbreadandbutter · 2 days

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I've got one: an Adam that can SEE soulmates. He grins nastily as he takes a GOOD LONG look at Alastor and SMIRKS "Vox, huh? You love him, hmm? I can see it written right on your disgusting soul Al-ass-tor. Annnnd even better he's your soulmate. I kill him, I cause you unimaginable pain and suffering for eternity without touching you." And then he takes off, leaving Lute and his army to take care of the hotel--who HEARD HIM to search for Vox.

The Vees are in full out panic mode, of course. They have no idea what to do. Vox say he can carry both Val and Vel through the electricity but they need a location to go too--abd the vacation home is too far, he doesn't have the juice.

Valentino is pissed at Vox for being Alastor's soulmate, and panicking about the certain death heading their way.

Velvette doesn't care: "Take us as far as you can to the vacation home and we can steal a car!"

Alastor is RAGING. How DARE that pompous f-wit threaten what is HIS?!? (Although he is pleased Adam did announce Vox was his too all of Hell. Now no one would dare try to date Vox after he killed the moth.)

(Feel free to use :3)

Thank you anon because I definitely WILL be taking this.

No really this is good, honestly you anons are helping write the best voxal fanfic with me as well speak. I think after I finish my current writing coms today then I'll start on this story. It honestly sounds really fun and I'm a bit of a slow burn kinda gal with a passion for angst so this is definitely up my alley.

The idea of Adam coming in? Mwah!

Like imagine the way Alastor freezes the moment Adam says that stuff about going after Vox and especially before Vox finds himself having to defend the vees. Bro doesn't even know what's going on at first and that he's basically one of the reasons it's happening. Imagine his shock if Alastor does hunt him down before the angels get there, both confusion AND relief showing on his face just to see Alastor. Though there's also annoyance.

"ugh! I could have handle a few angels Alastor!" He growls after Alastor grabs them after fighting and imagine something like after Alastor saves them he and Vox are having this argument just for Vox to stop when it seems Alastor did in fact take some damage.

"a few isn't tons Vox." Alastor would most like his back while cradling a wound and Vox might as well be the one to help him clean it up, matter of fact he has too because everyone is rather fearful of the pair. Alastor doesn't want anyone to deal with the wound like a stubborn dog unless it's Vox and this could leave them a lot of time just to sit with each other. It's silent as Vox carefully cleans his wounds, gentle and careful not to do anything that would hurt even more and then as he's looking over Alastor's body he'll glare at nothing halfheartedly, brows burrowed in confusion and annoyance.

"why'd you do something so stupid?" He'll ask and I can see Alastor's ear twitching. Vox basically asks him what's his problem. Why'd he go out there to fight so many angels and over HIM of all people? He's both flattered and a bit unnerved.

If Alastor really did all that to help him then maybe he SHOULD go back to the hotel just to keep an eye on Alastor's healing though maybe it's just a way to get closer because though Vox being Alastor's soul mate is life changing on his own, knowing and seeing Alastor after such a fight and touching his wounds really manages to draw Vox in. Like he wants to be with Alastor in the same bed and everything as he heals.

I wanna say Alastor will heal with no issue but imagine a case where he doesn't. Where the angel blades hold off his healing for just long enough to where Vox is actually worried over the other man.

This could be an interesting part to rebuild their connection. Seeing Alastor almost die while showing Hell that Vox BELONGS TO HIM really makes the TV demon flustered and more than he's ever been before. (Vox likes knowing Alastor is possessive enough to literally have a battle of his own with heaven. It makes him feel special and more than he ever has before)

I'd like to say this situation really convinces Vox but with their history he's worried about getting too close even though he wants to.

He's scared of falling in love with Alastor because what it its 'not the right time' again?

Vox is definitely an over thinker in this case, will sit through the healing process for Alastor but maybe he finds Alastor's words to be a fluke? Did he really mean it? Yeah he almost DIED but he couldn't possibly- he definitely means it.

They've had their history but Vox is a runner now and Alastor wants to chase him. After all, who could know him better than his old friend and whether Vox likes it or not no one would DARE (especially after the shocking announcement that they are soulmates) take Alastor's destined spot in his life.

I honestly love these ideas and I have many myself, keep em coming y'all!

- A

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ahockeywrites · 23 hours

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the service

pairing: aurelia mcavoy x trent frederic word count: 2.5k warnings: swearing, it’s my fic, there’s always swearing authors note: hello and welcome to another series that I hope I can finish (lol). hope you all enjoy!

Trent pushed open the door to the garage, feeling as though he was somewhere that he shouldn’t be. Charlie had recommended this garage as it had the best reviews for Porsche maintenance and was where he took his car. But it didn’t seem right. All he had to do was see if ‘Peanut’ worked here and if he did, then he would know if he was in the right place.

A gruff looking man with white hair and a long beard sat behind the counter and now Trent felt as though he really shouldn’t be here.

“Charlie McAvoy said I should come here for my car’s service?” He weakly asked, really feeling as though he was in the complete wrong part of town.

“Freddy with a Porsche?” He man behind the desk asked, after flicking through a few pages of the large diary that sat in front of him.

Trent nodded, feeling slightly more relaxed that be was definitely in the right place and that Charlie hadn’t sent him on a wild goose chase around the city. That wouldn’t be the craziest thing to happen to him.

When he was a rookie in Providence, the older players told him that they were having after game drinks at a bar. A bar that didn’t exist in Rhode Island. It was in California. Trent was pissed but ended up channeling his anger into a fight in the following game.

“Peanut will be with you in a moment, they’re just finishing up on a vintage 911,” the man explained.

Fuck, a vintage 911. How Trent wished he could own one of them but the upkeep on it would be more than he could handle. Especially when he had no clue about cars. But fuck, if he knew someone who knew their way around a car, his first purchase would be a vintage 911.

“Okay,” Trent replied, swinging his car keys around his finger as he wandered over to the notice board on the other side of the reception. The Bruins key ring hit against the plastic of his car key as he kept himself distracted waiting for Peanut.

“Freddy with a Porsche Cayenne?” A distinctly feminine voice with a strong Boston accent called out into the reception. Trent looked around, realised he was the only person in the room and then figured out that it was for him.

“That’s me,” he replied, spinning around to be greeted with a short woman with an imposing stature. Her dark hair was tied up in a ponytail behind her and Trent had no inclination of who she was except for the name Peanut. That surely couldn’t have been her name. But it was the name that was stitched into her dark blue overalls.

“I’m Aurelia but everyone here calls me Peanut. You met Gramps,” she pointed at the older man sat behind the counter, who offered Trent a wave. “It’s dad and I who are working today but occasionally you’ll get Adam who’s my brother working when he’s not at collage.”

Trent just nodded, that was more of an info dump that he expected from his mechanic but it really did feel like a family run business the way they treated him.

“Sorry for the run down,” Peanut apologised, most people here are regulars and know all of us. But you’re new, so you get the speed rundown. So, your Cayenne, what we needing for it?”

The hockey player thought for a moment. Why did he actually come here again? Oh crap yeah.

“Just a yearly service,” Trent got out, slightly in awe of the pretty girl standing in front of him. She was beautiful, he hoped that Charlie hadn’t mentioned this garage to any of the other players as he wanted to call dibs on her. Well, if that was still a thing that people did.

“I can’t sweet talk you into an engine upgrade, car wrap or new rims?” Peanut giggled as she headed out to the front where Trent had parked his car.

You could sweet talk me into anything, he thought but did say that. He just apologised and reaffirmed his need for a service and nothing else.

Peanut shook her head in mock disgust. “Damn, I always try that with the cute ones and it never works,” she laughed once more as she squatted down to look at the brake discs and callipers for a quick first inspection. “Left hand side looks good, from first glance but let me check the right.”

Peanut zipped around to the other side and did the same tyre and brake check confirming her initial thoughts that there probably wouldn’t be anything wrong with them.

“Looks like you don’t need new tyres but I can’t confirm that until I properly check them,” Peanut smiled. “So I’ll just need your keys and it should be a few hours.”

“Sounds good, do you need my number?” Trent asked, not realising how it sounded.

“Well,” Peanut raised an eyebrow, “my personal phone is missing the number of an attractive Porsche driver.”

A faint blush tinted the hockey player’s cheeks as it clicked in his head what he said and how it could be interpreted.

“Not like that,” he quickly backtracked, not wanting to make it seem as though he wasn’t interested but he was. He had placed himself in a sticky situation.

“Don’t worry,” Peanut explained. “Gramps will take your details before I drive it around the back. He’ll also explain how much it’ll cost. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to move my car out of the way.”

Peanut skipped back to the garage and opened the roller shutter doors. A white Porsche 911 Carrera from 1973 backed out of the opening and the same person who he was envious of earlier happened to be Peanut as she reversed out of the garage and into a spot on the side of the road.

She jumped out of the driver’s side door and invited Trent back inside to fill in all the paperwork that they needed before they could get started on servicing the car.

“Right, I’ll leave you with Gramps to get all the boring stuff sorted and I’ll be in the back, see you later!” Peanut waved and stormed through the door at a speed that had Trent concerned for the door.

“Don’t worry about my granddaughter, she’s always had this sort of energy,” the man that Peanut called Gramps explained. “That will be 300 dollars for the service and if Peanut finds anything else, it’s labour hours plus parts. All good?”

Trent nodded again before handing his keys over to Gramps and calling an Uber to take him back.

“You’ll call me when it’s good to pick up, yeah?” Trent asked, just making sure that he knew what was going on.

“Sure thing,” Gramps replied. “Should be done sometime this afternoon, provided no hiccups.” Trent nodded in appreciation before making his way outside to jump in the Uber to head back to his place.

Trent sat in front of his monitor, playing a solo game. He didn’t want to risk being involved in an online game with some of his teammates when he got the call to pick up his car. He felt limited in what he could do as Tuesday afternoons were usually the days he went food shopping, as long as he was in the city and not on a road trip. It was a slight change to his routine.

The doorbell went and Trent paused. He wasn’t expecting anyone or any deliveries so it must have been one of the guys. But why would any of them be visiting him on a random Tuesday afternoon?

He stood up and walked across to look through the peephole. Charlie was stood outside his door, hands in his pockets looking awkward. Trent had no idea why the defenceman was at his apartment when he knew Trent’s car was at the shop.

Trent opened the door and Charlie barrelled his way into the Boston apartment. He walked straight over to the kitchen, grabbed a glass for himself, filled it with water and drank the whole thing in one go. Water dripped from Charlie’s mouth but he quickly used his sleeve to wipe it away.

“You okay?” Trent asked, very confused as to what had just happened.

“Please tell me why my cousin just called me to say that Fit Freddy’s car is ready and that I should bring him to the garage?” Charlie growled, slightly concerned at what Aurelia had said on the phone. “And why she really wants your number?”

“It might help if I knew who your cousin is?” Trent replied, trying to make sense of the situation. He was racking his head to see if he knew an Aurelia.

“Aurelia McAvoy, short, dark hair, sounds like she was raised in a barn?” Charlie explained, hands flailing around as though he couldn’t keep control of them. “You know, the cousin I consider a younger sister?”

Trent still looked confused. He didn’t know any Aurelia McAvoy… wait…

“You mean the mechanic?” Trent questioned. “Your cousin is Peanut?”

“Yes!” Charlie exclaimed. “My cousin is Aurelia. You went to my grandfather’s garage and my cousin is the one who has fixed up your car and supposedly given you the friends and family discount that no one outside of the actual family gets?”

Trent could see steam coming out of his teammates ears as he tried to make sense of the situation and also diffuse it. Playing mediator wasn’t his usual role on the team but he needed to today.

“Charlie,” Trent started, “I don’t know why she said that but if my car is ready to pick up. Maybe we should go and grab that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Charlie responded before grabbing his keys from his pocket. “Let’s head out, see if Gramps can explain what’s going on. Fucking hope he can.”

The drive to the suburbs was painful for both hockey players. Charlie was still fuming that Trent had been flirting with his cousin, he couldn’t have Aurelia dating one of his teammates. As much as he loved his teammates, he did not want any of them dating someone he considered a second sister. Aurelia could absolutely deal with one of the Bruins, but she deserved better in his head.

Trent was slightly annoyed that Charlie thought he was flirting with his cousin. He didn’t intend to flirt with her and if he did, he was only responding to her flirting. Maybe she flirted with all the customers to try and get as many extras sorted as possible. That had to be it. She must also have been riling up Charlie. This could be one of the things they did growing up and Trent was now just a pawn in their game.

The drive was quiet, just the sounds of a local radio station in the background. But Trent could see that Charlie’s ears were still red so he was still angry.

Charlie turned the steering wheel and parked up outside the garage. He had tried to use the drive to calm down but it really didn’t help. It didn’t help when the recipient of his anger was in the enclosed space with him.

“Let’s get this shit over with,” he muttered under his breath before opening his door and then slamming it shut. Trent followed suit but didn’t use the same amount of force as his counterpart.

Charlie stormed his way into the reception area of the garage and Trent was hot on his heels. He just wanted his car back, he didn’t want to get in the middle of a McAvoy family argument, but it seemed like he would.

Aurelia looked up from over the counter to see her cousin looking at her with angry looking eyes. Crap, she thought, have I gone too far with this one? It was no secret that she fancied Trent, but it was something she didn’t want to share with Charlie as his rule since he started playing hockey was that she couldn’t date any of his teammates or opponents. Which she understood at the start when they were all teenagers.

But then he started playing in the big leagues. And he was playing against Mat Barzal, Nathan MacKinnon and Sidney Crosby. The latter was the first player that Aurelia had on her wall when she used to play hockey, before she moved onto racing cars.

But Trent was Charlie’s teammate. One of Charlie’s friends. Charlie was the one who took Trent under his wing and showed him around the city. Trent was also the only teammate who Charlie had sent to her garage. Well, Patrice Bergeron had also been there, but he was no longer a teammate to her cousin.

“What can I do for you, dear Charles?” Aurelia asked as she stood up, spinning Trent’s car keys on her index finger, just to provoke her cousin slightly more.

“Trent is here for his car,” Charlie pointed to the forward standing next to him. “Gramps can show him the car. You and I need a little chat.” Aurelia rolled her eyes but handed the keys across to Gramps who took Trent out to the back to explain the costs and how much he owed.

It was silent and the tension between Charlie and Aurelia was high.

“Peanut,” Charlie groaned as he ran a hand through his locks. “Please tell me you didn’t give him a friends and family discount?”

“What if I did?” She retaliated before popping a piece of chewing gum into her mouth. “He’s a friend of yours, so he’s a friend of mine. You didn’t get like this when I gave the discount to Bergy?”

“You gave the discount to Bergy?” Charlie questioned. “That’s the first I’ve heard of this.”

“Whoops,” Aurelia shrugged. “So what, I’ve had a crush on Freddy since he fought Tanev. Makes sense I’d give the guy I fancy a discount, right?”

“Fucks sake,” Charlie had to sit down to control himself. “You fancy Freddy? That’s breaking rule one.”

“No,” countered Aurelia. “Breaking rule one would be if I started dating him.” She blew a large bubble with the gum in her mouth. “Today is the first time I’ve met him. Did I flirt with him? Yes, I mean who wouldn’t. Would I date him? If you let me get to know him, yes.”

Charlie opened his mouth to speak but Aurelia raised his hand to shut him up.

“But do I trust your opinion and reasoning as to why you don’t want me dating your teammates? Yeah, I do.”

Charlie understood where Aurelia was coming from. She wasn’t the young girl he remembered. She was 25 now. Ran the family business and had a successful racing career on the side.

“Peanut,” Charlie started. “I just wanna protect you. I won’t give you Freddy’s number just yet.” To that she rolled her eyes. “But if a load of us are hanging out with our partners and you’re free, I’ll invite you. How does that sound?”

“Significantly better than keeping me in my own bubble,” she replied. “Can I go and get Freddy sorted now? And can you fuck off until family dinner.”

“You got it peanut, just don’t make too many mistakes.”

Aurelia saluted before tacking her cousin before he was ready and took him down to the ground.

“Pfft,” she exclaimed. “NHL defender my ass.”

#ahockeywrites #trent x aurelia #nhl imagine #hockey writing #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockey story #nhl fanfiction #nhl writing #trent frederic fic

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