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sydnikov · 3 months

Text

Being Bold || S. Jarvis

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Seth Jarvis / fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.4k

Summary: Seth has a crush on you. A bad one, and he makes it very obvious throughout the years he’s known you, though you’ve still never taken him seriously because of his immaturity and energetic personality. Much to his chagrin, you keep denying him—until one night, scorned by thoughts of your most recent ex who never knew how to touch you right, you give in to Seth’s advances.

Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v (birth control usage), oral (f receiving), very slight age gap (reader is 2 years older), alcohol mention, alcoholic consumption, minor mention of violence including blood, cursing

A/N: Wow. This one is something (it’s just smut with a small bit of plot don’t mind my dramatics). Here’s the jarvy debauchery as promised ✨ until the next, thanks for the support as always!

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

You’ve only seen Seth Jarvis as a kid.

Well, maybe ‘kid’ is too strong of a word to describe the immaturity gap. You’re only two years older than him, but it’s just that how he acts gives you the impression of a boy.

Not a man, but a boy. And it drives Seth absolutely insane.

He first meets you the year he joins the Hurricanes because you’re friends with the social media director (he later finds out you’re close to Lottie, Jesperi’s girlfriend, as well). He remembers the night vividly, what you were wearing, how soft your hand felt against the calluses on his own. How you looked at him, amusement and softness in the smile you flashed him.

Seth was smitten. Still is, actually, because you’re around more than ever. He sees you everywhere. After games, and even just around Raleigh because you live in the area.

He tries asking you out. Numerous times, but much to his chagrin you always turn him down.

“We just met, Seth.” A week after you first shake his hand.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Well, he did. But, in his defense, he’d just broken up with her after he moved.

“I’m too old for you.” That one hurt, because that’s when he finds out you’re only two years older.

Seth is nothing if not persistent, though. He doesn’t give up even after all the rejections. He’s also pretty sure your reluctance is because you think he’s never touched a woman in his life.

Presumptuous, right? Andrei thinks so when Seth tells him after playing Call of Duty for several hours, but he recounts a conversation you had with Lottie (he still owes her and Jesperi a drink for that, actually) after Seth begged her to slide a good word in.

“You’re not into the mustache?” Lottie had giggled, taking a sip of her martini.

You were drinking a whiskey sour, which he knows because he bought it for you but had Lottie say it was from her. Your face burned red, either because of the alcohol or the question, he doesn’t know.

“No, no,” You laughed. “I like mustaches. And a nice stubble. They feel good on the thighs.”

“So what’s the problem? He’s in love with you, basically.”

“Isn’t he, like, I don’t know… Nineteen?” You had drawled, faking indifference while mixing around the olive in your drink with the little straw it came with.

“He’s twenty-two, babe.” She smirked. “Only two years younger.”

Lottie says she thinks you’re just wary of his immaturity. When he tries defending himself, Jesperi reminds him that he scored a goal the other night, pointed at you behind the glass where you sat with Lottie, and then proceeded to griddy.

Word on the street is that you weren’t impressed.

Nonetheless, Seth can’t change his personality for you, as much as he considers it. He thinks the sun rises and sets on you, but if you truly think you’re too good for him then he does have enough self respect to walk away and get over it.

But… He just doesn’t think that’s the case, here. You only seem reluctant—that’s it.

“You can’t force her to sleep with you, Jarvy.” Andrei tells him, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“I know.” He groans, his chin falling into his hand. “What do I do, then?” And truly, he’s run out of ideas. He’s played silly, nice, gentleman… What else is there left for him to do, other than give up?

Seth thinks of your radiant smile, then groans to himself because fuck. He really doesn’t want to give up.

“Give her space?” Andrei suggests. “Have you tried, just… Going away?” He frowns for a moment, trying to think of the right words in English. “Not ‘going away’—”

“Space? You think she just needs space?”

“Well, not too much space—”

“Svechy you're a genius.” Seth interrupts, jumping out of his seat with renown vigor. “I’ll buy you a drink for this, remind me!” And then he’s springing up from the couch, grabbing his keys and sprinting out the front door.

Andrei blinks. Once, twice, then shakes his head with a laugh. He feels like he should warn you, then promptly decides this is not something he wants to get in the middle of.

Seth takes his teammate’s advice to heart, and gives you the space he thinks you need to process his zealous pursuit of you. He can tell it catches you off guard because he’s stopped following you around like a lost puppy, along with all of the antics normally associated with his creative flirting.

In fact, it’s such a sudden change from what you’re used to that it freaks you out. Hurts a little bit, too, because did he just wake up one day disgusted by the thought of you?

You tell yourself you’re disturbed because you miss the attention. It’s been a while since you’ve had a guy foam at the mouth for you, after all, so now that it’s gone you’re just going through withdrawals.

It’s more than that, though, and you won’t admit it to yourself but when you spy him chatting it up with other girls your stomach twists in a way that you know screams trouble.

Maybe it’s because you just ended things with your latest boyfriend - a bore of a man who couldn’t make time for you outside of his work - and the vulnerability of being alone yet again is getting to you.

Is Seth really so bad? You think about him sometimes, when you’re alone in your apartment or even right in front of him. You’ve always had a soft spot for him, sure, but nothing more than friendly affection.

You’re questioning this now, when his attention is no longer being directed at you, because you distinctly remember him getting into a fight with some other player on the ice, and that’s the first time you remember thinking man and not boy.

The team it was against escapes you, but you remember someone getting in Sebastian’s space with a raised arm, and then Seth came flying in with a fist to the opposing player’s face and a lot of colorful words. Your jaw had dropped as the referees tore them apart, his hair dripping with sweat and a cut welling with blood dripping down his forehead.

The moment forces you to think that maybe altogether, his energetic personality, a smile that never leaves his face, and the unwavering loyalty for his friends combined isn’t such a bad thing after all. The revelation leaves you shaking and feeling quite awkward when he’s around, or even just being brought up.

“Do you miss Scott?” Lottie asks you one day when you’re out for lunch at Perry’s - a steakhouse near her apartment in North Hills - referring to your aforementioned ex-boyfriend. Even his name is boring.

You laugh a little, unable to not roll your eyes though your ire isn’t directed at her. “No. I knew it wasn’t going to last when I got into it, anyways.”

“It’s been about two weeks since you broke up with him.” She says, a statement rather than a question. The look on her face tells you she’s trying to go somewhere with this. “Has anyone caught your eye lately? You’re too pretty to be single, you know.”

It’s obvious that Lottie is trying to ask if you’ve reconsidered Seth at all. It’s been the talk of your whole friend group, including the guys, that he’s suddenly stopped in his bold pursuit of you, though none of them think it’s because he’s lost interest.

“I don’t know.” You whine, begrudgingly stabbing a piece of potato with your fork. “I mean, he’s… Seth.”

“Seth, who has spent his entire time on the Hurricanes trying to win you over?” She says with a raised brow. “Just because he’s had his fun doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy.”

You don’t have a response to that, so instead you just nod. She is right, as much as you hate to admit it. Seth is a successful professional hockey player in his prime, of course he’s been with his fair share of women and will continue to do so as long as he’s single.

If that was your case you’d certainly be having fun, too.

“If his casualness towards dating really bothers you, you should just talk to him.” Lottie says after a moment. “He’s dying for you to speak to him, I swear it.”

You concede. “I’ll talk to him the next time I see him.”

Fortunately for you, that ‘next time’ doesn’t happen for quite a few more weeks, and when you do finally run into him again it’s when you’re slightly tipsy, drinking at a bar near to PNC Arena after the boys have won a game.

You don’t even take note of his presence at first, in the middle of gossiping with some of your friends who just so happen to know the players.

The gossip? Your ex-boyfriend, Scott, and his inability to make you come.

“I mean, he wasn’t bad or anything.” You say. “He had all the knowledge and stuff, just, like, couldn’t do anything. Y’know?” You’re slurring your words a little bit, but everyone around you nods like you’re making some big, important speech.

“So did you have to fake it?” Someone asks. You can’t even remember how Scott was brought up in the first place.

You giggle; you can’t help it. “Oh my god, yes, sometimes it was so bad I had to say I was cramping just to get him to stop trying.” That sends everyone into boisterous laughter, and in your slight drunkenness you can’t help but join in.

The song changes then, and it must be one everyone knows because it scatters you and the rest of the girls into smaller groups, some running to the dance floor while others wander back to the bar. You stay seated, however, content to watch as you sip your drink.

“Whiskey sour?” That’s when Seth makes his presence known. His voice murmured in your ear catches you off guard, and you jump a little as you turn to face him. “Seth.” You greet, not unkindly. “Yeah, but it’s only my second.”

Just as soon as he appeared, he’s jumping back up from his seat next to you. “I’ll get you a third.” You don’t have time to protest as he disappears, and your affection for this rambunctious man only continues to grow as he bounds back moments later, sliding you your drink with a smug grin.

“Thank you.” You smile, a little shy, a little bashful, as you take your first sip. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Anything for my girl.” Ah, there it is. You’re unable to hide the obvious roll of your eyes, but Seth’s smile doesn’t waver. “Not your girl, Seth. Just got out of a relationship, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” He says. “Scott, right? Sounds like that was doomed from the start.”

You narrow your eyes, unsure of the knowing tone he’s taken on. “And how would you know?”

“He couldn’t make you come, yeah? What a tool.”

Suddenly, your throat is very dry, and you’re taking a very large sip of whiskey that has you wincing. So… He heard you say that, then. Is it hot in here? You have the sudden urge to fan yourself. Fuck fuck fuck. Seth, of all people, should not be making your thighs clench.

You don’t realize how silent you’ve gotten until he speaks up again. “I could make you, you know.”

That has you choking, and you quickly throw back the rest of your drink to soothe your throat. “What?” When you finally meet Seth’s eyes, he’s still grinning at you, though it’s more carnal. His eyes darken as he responds.

“Come. I could get you to come so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.”

Your reply is meek, knowing deep down inside you’re fighting a losing battle. “Have you even touched a girl before?” He scoffs, and you know as well as he does that he’s been with his fair share of women. It’s one of the reasons you’re so hesitant to take him seriously.

Seth is undeterred, though, as he slides even closer to you. You stare straight ahead, determined not to meet his eyes even though you’re positive there’s a red flush creeping up your neck as his breath tickles your ear.

He says your name, a low purr that’s almost mocking like he can see right through your bullshit because finally, he’s breaking through to you. “You know I have. None of them are you, though.”

You squirm in your seat as his hand creeps up your shoulders, grasping the back of your neck as he gently turns your head to face him. He squeezes reassuringly, and now you’re melting into his embrace as a gasp falls from your lips.

“I want you. You know that, baby.”

“Seth…”

“Let me show you, please?” Then those warm eyes are bearing into your own, and now you’re getting a glimpse of the boy you first met all over again. This time, though, instead of feeling innocent affection all you feel now is heat.

You were stupid to think the adoration he never hesitates to show for you wouldn’t win you over eventually.

Blinking owlishly, you move one of your hands to grip his arm, looking so dainty against the rugged muscle under his skin, and, well. You cave.

“Okay.”

Seth doesn’t expect you to give in so easily. He freezes, doesn’t move until you gain your wits back and pinch his thigh with a gentle roll of your eyes. “Are you just going to sit there or should I find someone else to entertain me?”

That gets him moving. It’s his turn to look anxious as he runs a hand through his hair, still processing the fact that he didn’t have to convince you more. He wasn’t actually expecting to get this far with you—quite literally, the woman of his dreams.

“Shit, okay.” He laughs, jumping out of his seat and lacing his fingers with yours. “You’re serious, then.”

“Somehow.” You deadpan. Somehow your legs are still clenching and your heart is beating a little too fast to be normal. “Don’t fuck it up.”

He looks to you, a little terrified, and you can’t help but break the irritated front and send him a small smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly even as your words are all snark. Truthfully, you’re also scared, but not of the sex, but rather the developing feelings that might grow deeper afterwards.

You just got out of yet another disappointing relationship. You don’t want whatever this is with Seth to end with the same result.

He does a good job of distracting you from your destructive thoughts, though, as he pulls you out of the bar like two teenagers trying to sneak away from their parents. You suppose it’s not unlike that same feeling because Jesperi catches your eye as you exit the doors, and he sends you such a shit-eating grin it has you ducking your head to avoid his obnoxious stare.

You suppose you do owe him a favor now after all.

For the first time ever, standing outside in the biting cold, Seth kisses you as you’re waiting for an Uber. You being busy trying to look like you’re not about to go hook up, he suddenly grabs you by the waist and smooths his lips against yours so good your toes curl.

“Fuck.” He murmurs into your mouth. “I can’t get enough of you.” His teeth catch your bottom lip, and you unabashedly moan. You run your hands up his chest, around his shoulders, and to the back of his neck where you card your fingers through thick strands of hair, tugging from the roots.

“Seth…” You gasp when he detaches his lips from your own only for him to smooth down your jawline, then down to your neck where he sucks wet kisses into your sensitive skin. “Fuck, we’re in public.” With a hiss, you pull him away from your neck and pointedly ignore the wetness in your panties when he groans at the loss of contact.

He looks at you like a baby getting its favorite toy taken away, and you can’t ignore how his desperation turns you on wildly. It takes everything in you to not let him go back to feasting on your neck.

“When’s the Uber getting here?” You ask after a moment. You’re both panting, tipsy from the taste of each other’s lips as you try to catch your breath.

Seth pulls out his phone, and as you admire the way the light illuminates his face you completely miss the words coming from his mouth.

You flush. “Say that again?” Seth grins wickedly, brings you in by the back of your neck and kisses you, then pulls away too soon for your liking. “The Uber. It’s right here.” He then wraps an arm around your waist, digging his fingers deliciously into your skin, and leads you into the Uber as it arrives right on time.

He rattles off his address to the driver, then settles back into the seats. His arm snakes around your shoulders, and you hum your appreciation as you sink into his chest. You feel him kiss the top of your head in response.

You could fall asleep, if you really wanted to. The sudden switch in mood from carnal desperation to gentle affection would give you whiplash if you weren’t so at ease resting against him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The drive passes fairly quickly, and Seth doesn’t stop touching you as you make your way up the elevator to his apartment. His hand sneaks to your ass, giving it a squeeze before you slap his arm away.

“Cameras!” You hiss, though it’s with little mirth as a small smile curves up your lips. Seth merely laughs, slides his hand back down to rest on your lower back. “They don’t care. Now c’mere.”

You make out until you can’t breathe, and as you pull away it’s just in time as the elevator doors open. Your heart rate picks up, and you hide your nerves as he grabs your hand and practically sprints out of the elevator with you.

“We have all night, you know.” You giggle, absentmindedly rubbing your thumb over the top of his hand. Seth groans playfully, but his words strike you as serious even as he masks it with a grin.

“Not long enough, babe.”

You don’t respond, partly because you don’t know how to and partly because he’s just unlocked his door, and you’re too busy taking in his apartment. You’ve been to Andrei’s house numerous times, Jesperi and Lottie's apartment, Jordan’s for his famous house parties… It’s just now that you’re realizing you don’t actually know Seth all that well.

What you do know, though, is that he’s eyeing you like he can’t wait to devour you, and the reminder that you don’t even know his favorite color exits your mind as you sidle up to his chest, grabbing him by the lapels of his suit to drag his lips down to yours.

“Time to impress me, lover boy.” You hum into his mouth, fighting a shiver when he nips at your bottom lip. Seth chuckles, one of his hands sliding down your back to squeeze your ass, the other tugging your hair back to expose your neck.

He kisses your cheek once, twice, mouths at your collarbone with teasing bites that have your eyes fluttering shut, and then it’s like he loses patience as suddenly his hands are picking you up by your thighs and curling your legs around his waist.

You squeak in surprise. “Seth!” You admonish, because of course it turns you on that he’s able to throw you around effortlessly. He seems to have that effect on you.

Seth maneuvers the two of you through his darkened apartment with ease, knowing the route to his bedroom like the back of his hand. Your attempts at distracting him include sucking a bright red hickey on his neck, fully intending it for it to be bright enough that his teammates give him hell for it the next day.

Once he pushes open the door with his foot, he brings you to the foot of his bed and unceremoniously drops you. You scoff with indignation at his manhandling, though you know he knows you like it if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

A tiger stalking its prey, Seth crawls on top of you and meets your eager lips in another kiss. His hands smooth down the curves of your hips to your thighs, slowly spreading them open. He mumbles something, and you miss it completely.

“Hm?” You run your hands through his hair, enjoying the way the black strands are moussed from your touch. Your shirt is also already halfway up your torso as he helps you tear it off. “I said I’ll wear your marks proudly. My girl.” He coos, flicking open the clasp of your bra and immediately moving down to your chest.

“Fuck.” He groans. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.” Your laugh quickly turns to a gasp as he sucks your right nipple into his mouth.

Your other nipple is taken by his fore-finger and thumb, rolling the sensitive nub between the calloused pads. Between him sucking on one tit and playing with the other, you’re practically a whimpering mess, trying to simultaneously wiggle out of his grip yet get closer at the same time.

“Seth,” You whine. “I need you.” You’re admitting it openly, foregoing coyness in favor of your own pleasure. Yeah, so what? You like this overgrown puppy of a man, and you really want to fuck him. Pulling his head back by his hair, you eagerly slam your lips back together.

“Need me?” He grins against your lips. “Where do you need me? Gotta be specific, babe, because I can be here,” He emphasizes a quick squeeze to your tit. “Here,” The other hand smooths over your ass. “Or here...” He trails off into a low rumble, parting your eager thighs.

Based on the tortured groan he lets out, you assume he can probably feel the wetness that’s soaked through your jeans. You’re too turned on to be embarrassed, though.

“Damn it, Seth, just touch me.” You hiss, keeping his hand pressed between your thighs while the other is already working open the button of your jeans. “Fucking tease.” You mutter, though it’s light-hearted and he knows it based on his snicker.

He helps you peel off the rest of your jeans, throwing them somewhere behind you. It’ll be fun trying to hunt for those in the morning. When he sees the dainty white lace covering your pussy, he lets out his most needy sound yet.

“Shit.” He breathes. “Wore these for me? So pretty. My pretty baby.” He murmurs as he thumbs the lace, running two fingers over the soaked fabric. If you could see, you’d guarantee his pupils are blown wide.

Your hips rise at the friction, wanting more. And because you’re still hellbent on resisting him, apparently, you roll your eyes, spitting out your next words. “You knew I was coming home with you, didn’t you? Asshole.” Though your words are all snark, your tone screams laughter.

Strangely enough, the banter gets you off more than any dirty talk in the world. It’s familiar, relaxing, and Seth clearly doesn’t mind either as he merely chuckles. “I just know you that well, don't I?” The look on his face offers no room for argument.

And, well, you suppose he isn’t wrong. You are here in his bed at the end of the day, right?

You grumble something that to his ears sounds like ‘shut up’ and then you’re sliding your panties down your thighs, letting him take care of the rest as, like your other clothes, he tosses them somewhere behind him.

If you thought the sight of your covered pussy would get the best reaction from him, it’s nothing compared to the way his entire body freezes at seeing it bare.

You’d had a feeling something big was going to happen after Lottie's sly words, so you took the liberty of shaving everywhere just two nights before. You’re glad for that, as Seth is looking at the heat between your legs like he doesn’t know where to start.

Teasing him in a normal setting about not knowing how to touch a woman is one thing, but making a remark now as anxious anticipation is all over his face just feels wrong.

You do like him, after all—quite a bit, you’re coming to find.

Reaching out your hand, you wait for him to grasp it before you pull him down to hover over your awaiting form. “C’mere, baby.” The pet-name slips without thought, but you can’t make yourself regret it because the way his face lights up is a look you won’t forget any time soon.

He laughs a little as your eyes finally meet, like he can’t believe he’s actually about to fuck you and you’re going to let him. “Tell me how to touch you?” He asks, not a demand but more of a request.

Taking his right hand, you lead him down the length of your body, over your breasts and down your stomach until your hands are resting just below your navel. “You know how to find the clit?” You tease, partly joking and partly serious.

Seth scoffs like the very thought offends him, and the mild dig does its job of making him forget his earlier nervousness.

“Of course I know where the fucking clit is,” He replies, pointer and middle finger already sliding down and gathering the slickness lathered in your lower lips. “Scott is such a dumbass.”

Well, it seems the familiar, cocky Seth is back now.

“...didn’t even realize what a bombshell he had right in front of him.” You miss the first part of his sentence because he did, in fact, find your clit, and unlike your ex, knows exactly how to touch it.

Your mouth opens into an ‘o’, and Seth hums a pleased noise as his fingers work your sensitive clit into a swollen, throbbing mess. Your hips move in time with the flicks of his fingers and you don’t even realize you’re panting until Seth leans forward and licks a stripe all the way from your navel down to your soaked opening.

When you start bucking into his mouth, he grabs your hips and holds them down to the bed, forcing you to take it. You whine, hands finding purchase in his hair as his tongue laps at you like you’re his favorite meal. He dips into your entrance in time with the quick circles he’s drawing over your clit, and oh, suddenly you’re much closer than you thought.

“Tastes so good.” You hear him grunt. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“Seth,” Gasping, you can’t decide if you want to keep him close or shove him away. “Shit. Seth, fuck, I’m close.”

“Yeah? Already?” Your confession only seems to reinvigorate his efforts, and the next thing you know two long fingers are sliding their way into your cunt. “Gonna come for me?”

Quicker than you expect he finds the sensitive wall of flesh inside you, and his fingers curl up against it which sends you keening. Loudly. You slap a hand over your mouth, but Seth quickly tears it away.

“Nobody here but me and you.” He grins, and just to rub it in, presses a hot kiss to your clit. “I wanna hear you scream.”

“What a gentleman.” You manage to squeeze out, and in revenge for your snark he immediately sucks your clit between his lips and rapidly curls his fingers inside you.

Seth watches with hooded eyes as your own squeeze shut, teeth biting into your kiss-swollen lips while your hands tug at his hair. Your thighs are shaking on each side of his head, and suddenly he wants you to come for him like his life depends on it.

“You gonna come?” He asks. Your walls clamp around his fingers and he knows you’re close. “Yeah? Can you come for me? I know you want to.”

Your entire body shakes all while he keeps you tethered to the bed. Your mind, though, is floating, and you can practically see white as his lips don’t stop sucking, his fingers don’t stop curling, and it’s too much but also not enough and you want to shove him away yet demand he never stops touching you.

And your high is right there, you can practically taste it, but your body is wound so tight and you can’t remember the last time you’ve let go that you remain stuck right on the edge.

There are tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you tug at his hair. Seth meets your eyes, looks a little concerned after reading the desperation on your face, and then understands when a broken moan tumbles past your lips.

Seth, a little shit as always, brings you back to the edge with his words alone. “It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” He slips in a third finger. “Bet you haven’t had anyone make you feel like this. Just me. Hopefully always me.”

“Seth,” You croak. “Please.”

“I’ve got you.” He urges. “Let go for me. You’re right there, I know it. You’re so tight, fuck, there you go.”

His mocking words echo in your mind with the low drawl of his voice, dark eyes staring at you like you’re a feast, and his damn fingers curling just right against your spongy wall.

His free hand suddenly moves, presses down over your lower abdomen, and oh. “Such a good girl.” Seth croons as you fall apart.

It’s the last thing you hear as your vision goes white, and the heat in your body explodes with wave after wave of ecstasy pumping from the tips of your toes all the way to the hair on your head. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you’re pretty sure you’re making some sort of strangled noise as you ride your high that seems to go on forever.

By the time you come back, your legs are still shaking and Seth is still gently stroking your inner walls with careful circles around your clit. He's my gazing up at you with pure, unbridled adoration and the emotion in his eyes makes your heart thump.

You don’t even realize your fingers are still tangled in his hair until you have to let go because they’re cramping, and then Seth finally removes his fingers and slowly crawls back up your body.

You’re still catching your breath when he presses a long, soft kiss to your lips. “How was that?” He questions almost shyly. His need for reassurance might have had a past you rolling your eyes, but right now all you want to do is hold him and thank him for making you feel so good.

Especially after Scott. Asshole.

You shudder, clit still throbbing as you wrap your arms around his heavy shoulders and bring his weight down on top of you. His very hard cock brushes against your hip with the movement, and you’re reminded that he hasn’t had any semblance of relief yet.

“Thank you.” You whisper. It’s definitely weird to thank someone after they eat you out, right? Probably, but you don’t really care.

His lips brush against your cheek in response, heart swelling at the gentle vulnerability you’re showing him. He’s planning on running to the bathroom to get you a towel, but freezes when he feels your hands peeling off the suit he totally forgot he was wearing.

“Babe?” He mumbles, a little confusingly, but all you do is kiss him and that shuts him up. He doesn’t break contact even as he shrugs off the rest of his suit, peeling off his undershirt until he’s more than halfway bare. Your hands carve lines over the hard planes of muscle on his chest, scratching lightly with your nails over his nipples which has him flinching into your mouth. Snickering, you make your way down the rest of his chest, past his waist, under his boxers, and then you’re wrapping your hand around his hot, pulsating dick.

Seth groans, almost collapsing on top of you as you squeeze lightly. It’s a dream come true, him touching you and now you touching him. He wants to close his eyes at the feeling of your gentle strokes, but he insists on keeping them open to watch the enraptured look on your face.

Then your other hand moves, unbuttoning his slacks and sliding them over his hips and that’s when he jerks back to the present. “Sweetheart,” He gasps. “You… You don’t have to.”

You smile at his breathlessness. “You don’t want to fuck me?” You pout, though it quickly turns back into a grin when his eyes widen in panic. Another day you’d blow him, when you aren’t so desperate to get him inside you.

Seth briefly removed himself from on top of you to lean over his bed, rifling through his nightstand drawer. You assume he’s looking for a condom and that his efforts fail when he eventually closes the drawer with a curse.

He looks back to you, all messy hair, swollen lips, and glistening eyes. “I don’t have a condom.” He informs regretfully.

“I’m on the pill, if you’re…” You trail off, unsure. “If you’re okay with that. And I’m clean.”

“Hell yes I’m okay with that.” He breathes. His cock hardens even more at the thought of feeling you raw, if even possible. “I’m clean too.” And then he’s kissing you again, long and slow and deep, and you’re happy to let him take the lead as your brain is still trying to play catch-up from your orgasm.

Seth eventually breaks away only to reattach to your neck, nipping at the skin likely already covered in his marks, hands now making their way back down your body. He playfully flicks your nipple as he does so, grins when you flinch upwards.

“Have I told you how much I love your body?” He says in-between kisses, almost like an afterthought. He’s in the middle of spreading your thighs open, fingers slipping through your leftover wetness and brushing your clit when you respond.

You help in his endeavors, raising your legs to curl over his hips as he situates himself on top of you. “You’ve mentioned it a few times, I think.” You reply, breath hitching when his cock presses against you.

“It’s perfect.” He continues, like he didn’t even hear you. “You’re perfect.” He wraps his hand around his dick, guides the head to your entrance and pushes in. All words escape you, and your head falls back with a moan.

He sinks into you with a pleasurable sound of his own, eyes squeezing shut as your warmth envelops him. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he thrusts slowly into you, bottoming out. “So tight.” He hisses.

“Oh, fuck,” You whimper, digging your nails into his back. Seth stills, thinking he's hurting you. “Shit, am I—”

“Don’t you dare stop.” You quickly interrupt, crying out when his tip rubs against your sensitive inner walls just right. Seth relaxes at your words, a cocky grin spreading over his face. “Sorry, sorry.” He chuckles, picking up the speed of his thrusts.

Like before when his tongue was in you, it doesn’t take you long before noises are escaping your throat uncontrollably or for your legs to tremble from where they’re wrapped around his waist. The sensations are more because you’re already so sensitive, so strung-up, and so eager for another release that you give up any pretenses of trying to play cool.

Your head lolls back onto the bed, all strength leaving your body as Seth happily does all the work on top. Quick, short pants are coming from his mouth, and his chest is heavy where it presses down against yours. With every thrust his pelvis is rocking into your clit, sending sparks up your body as you clench rhythmically around his cock. It’s burning you from the inside-out in the best way possible, and very quickly you’re already approaching the edge.

You try to express your impending release, but all that’s able to come from your mouth is one long moan. Seth, somehow, knows exactly what that noise means, and is suddenly pulling out. “What the fuck?” You practically shout with indignation, glaring at the man on top of you with squinted eyes.

Ever the comedian, he only laughs at your irritation. “Hold on, bear with me.” His hands grab your waist, then rolls you over onto your stomach. He raises your hips, pushing down on your lower back into an arch, and all previous complaints leave you as he’s unable to help himself and runs his hands over your ass.

You’ll think later on why him being unfazed with your attitude makes your heart warm.

“Spread your legs for me.” He murmurs, tapping at the junction between your thighs. You do as he says, and shiver when his fingers go to part your cunt once you’re open. You can’t see his face, but imagine the look on it to be one of enrapturement. You turn your head finally, pressing your hips down onto his hand where it remains touching you.

Your earlier guess was right; his pupils are blown wide, jaw hung open just a little bit at having this view of you from behind. Meeting his eyes, you stare imploringly.

While the sudden need for him scares you, you don’t shy away. Rather, you meet his desires head-on in the form of pushing your hips back against him when he finally pushes in, smothering a whimper as his body looms over yours.

Neither of you talk in favor of letting your pleasure speak for you. The new position feels more intimate, oddly enough; his chest presses onto you from every angle, and you can feel his breath every time he pants into your ear. At the same time his arms are wrapped around your waist, hands kneading at the flesh of your hips while he thrusts into you from behind.

All too soon you’re reaching your peak just like before, and the buildup feels so sweet because he’s hitting you deeper, unrelenting in his thrusts despite how your arms collapse from underneath you. Seth doesn’t flinch, merely picks you back up and presses a hand to your abdomen to keep you there.

With your arms free, you realize that your clit is feeling neglected, and as you sneak your right hand in-between your legs he’s suddenly beating you to it, slapping your own hand away and replacing it with his own.

When it’s all said and done, you don’t think you’ll ever forget the feeling of his fingers circling your sensitive nub so deliciously. Between his dick rutting into your sweet spot mercilessly and the rough pads of fingers stimulating your clit, your eyes are slamming shut with your mouth opening in a silent scream as for the second time that night, Seth is sending you into release.

He carries you through it with noncommittal praise while you’re lost in white noise and starry vision. The sight of you crumbling beneath him sends sparks throughout his body, and it doesn’t take long between the rhythmic clenching of your cunt and the pleasured sounds falling from your lips for him to flood your insides with his cum.

“Oh, fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck.” Seth loses any semblance of restraint of trying to be gentle, as his last thrusts rattle your frame and have you whimpering by the time he’s done releasing, your overstimulated clit throbbing in time with the slow rocks of your calming bodies. “So good. You did so good, yeah?” Seth is rumbling into your ear, voice hoarse and tired as he carefully slides out of you. Eyes still closed, you flinch at your sensitivity. “Sorry, babe.” He whispers, having to regroup for a moment as his softening cock meets cool air after being buried inside you.

You attempt to speak, but the only sound that leaves your mouth is a groan as your aching limbs stretch. You don’t bother opening your eyes yet, either, perfectly content to lay in your post-orgasmic pleasure and not think about the future.

Seth doesn’t let you wallow for long, however, as he’s suddenly leaning over you again. “Can you turn over? I have a towel, it’s warm.” He asks, back to shy and unsure. Now that you’re not caught up in the throes of sex, he’s not quite sure how you’re going to act. “You also need to go pee.”

Your default moods of snarky and mildly irritated is what he gets. “No.” You grumble, though it’s not mean as you bury your head in his pillow, still flat on your stomach. Having no energy to move, you don’t expect Seth to do anything about it, either.

He raises a brow at your sass, not quite sure if he should be relieved or concerned. Huffing, he makes a grab for your hips. “Guess I’m carrying you to the bathroom, then.”

“Seth!” You shriek as he attempts to manhandle you, a burst of energy fueling your efforts in trying to get away. “You little shit, no, fine, fine!” And Seth wins just like that, as you concede the battle and roll from your stomach onto your back. You glare as he leans over your torso, bringing the towel down to clean up the mess in-between your thighs.

His confidence comes back, little by little, as the banter returns naturally and your dynamic doesn’t change despite indulging in your bodies’ most primal desires. “You’ll thank me in the morning.” He grins when he finishes, sliding off the bed to bring it back to the bathroom. You follow, doing your business so quickly you leave before he’s done with his own.

When he comes back you’re in the same position he left you in, like you never left. “So I’m staying the night, then?” You prompt as he goes to sit next to you, a little teasing, a little serious. Where do you stand with him now?

He shrugs, masking his nervousness. “If you want to.” He sinks his teeth into his lip, eyeing you from where he sits. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, and it slightly unnerves him.

Your mysteriousness is also what captivated him about you in the first place too, though. With that, he realizes he wouldn’t have gotten this far if you hadn’t liked him at least a little bit. Taking a deep breath, he takes the bold route, grabs your hand, and does what he does best:

Be bold.

“I want you to stay though, like, really badly.” He admits, meeting your curious eyes. You suck in a breath at his words, and Seth continues. “You know I like you. A lot. And I think you like me too.”

As if knowing he’s waiting for your reassurance, you reply quietly. “A little presumptuous of you, yeah?”

Seth grins, and you can’t help but wonder how you were able to resist it for so long.

“So… You’ll stay?” He tilts his head, reminding you of a puppy. You go to respond, maybe with another sarcastic reply, and he seems to know this even before you do. “Please?”

And, well, you can’t deny him when he’s looking at you like that; soft, brown eyes full of adoration gazing at you like you’ve hung the stars and the moon. “Okay.” You relent, grinning happily as he mouths something like ‘fuck yeah’ and rolls over next to you.

“Do you want to shower?” He suddenly asks, after you’ve already curled underneath his sheets with your body pressed against his. He makes a nice furnace, and you’re mad at yourself for not indulging in him sooner. “Because I have a big one. It has these jets that spray from different angles, and you can go alone or I can join or—”

“Seth.” You interrupt, poking his chest to get his attention. He gulps at the amused expression on your face. “Stop talking.”

“Okay.”

It’s silent for several minutes, and you’re almost asleep until he speaks up again.

“Can I be your boyfriend now?”

“Oh my god.” You hiss. “If I say yes will you let me go to sleep?”

You can’t see his face but you know for a fact there’s a stupid grin on it. “You know, I think you’re gonna fall in love with me one day.”

“Keep dreaming, babe.” You say.

But you both know he won’t be dreaming for long.

A/N: I like this one a lot tbh. But my lord I didn't realize how repetitive writing smut is so I need to have at least a little plot established before I can just jump into it 😭 regardless, I hope this is everything y’all wanted in terms of me writing for him and more! Please be sure to reblog and comment, thank youuuuu

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mamirhodessxox · 1 month

Note

Request for Cody 💜

Cody is on the road a lot and a workaholic, to the point he neglects his wife in a way. He misses date nights, family dinners and a birthday party to the point reader files for divorce. Cody then tries to get his family back. ( 3 year old son Silas , 9 month old daughter Brielle )

Before You Leave Me

Cody Rhodes x Fem!Reader

Desc: Cody has seemed to be more focused in his work life than his own personal home life which leaves Y/N in a conflicted decision that he refuses to accept.

Contents: Angst, Fluff, Mentions of divorce, light false accusations of cheating , use of foul language, arguing, Happy endings :)

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts-deactivated2 @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @jeysbvck

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

Being married to Cody was not easy, especially if you were head over heels for the man, You thought that if he settled down, had children, etc, he would be less of a workaholic but boy were you wrong. He was on the road 24/7 You & the kids barely got to see him, You both were parents of 2, a 3 year old son named Silas & your new 9 month old daughter Brielle, He missed out on a lot within MONTHS.

Cody was a man who brought food on the table, he was man of the house but because of his absence it was leaving your song with many questions such as “Why didn’t daddy come to my birthday party?” Or “Why wasn’t daddy here for Christmas?” These were questions you had no idea how to answer to the poor kid other than “Daddy was busy” which was a bullshit answer, He should never be too busy to miss out on his sons 2nd birthday but once the 3rd birthday hit you were sick of it and his false promises. This made you order divorce papers before the birthday as a just incase moment if he didn’t show up to his sons party within a few weeks.

2 weeks prior to Silas’ 3rd birthday you two had argued over work and by the end of that shit show he promised with his entire soul he would be there for his sons 3rd birthday, but ultimately he couldn’t make it because of his schedule. This was becoming a regular habit almost every year, Cody missed out on your guys’ dates, holidays, birthday’s & anniversary..but this was the final straw.

It was the day of your son’s birthday and you waited in the backyard watching your toddler run around with his friends while other parents attempted asking you on where your husband was. You held Brielle in your arms checking your phone every few hours but got no updates from Cody.

And then night time struck. You set Brielle in her crib and pranced into your son’s room to tuck him in bed “Mommy?” You heard the 3 year old chirp out as he sat criss crossed in his bed with a moping expression “Yes sweetheart?” Silas frowned when you got to his level “Where’s daddy? He promised.” Your heart broke in half as your son asked where his father’s presence was, you shrugged and frowned before kissing the top of his head “Daddy got caught up in work sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he huffed and turned to his side once you finished tucking him in you had snuck into the bedroom that used to be shared with you & cody, you kneeled down to the height of your bedside table taking out the papers you had waiting for this very moment & began signing away what you possibly could on your side of the divorce & proceeded to walk downstairs with them and set them down on the kitchen counter next to the pen you had used consenting to the divorce.

around 2:30 in the morning you heard the door open & close in a quiet manner followed by a heavy sigh & luggage being set onto the ground which made you sit up from the couch, Cody looked over towards your direction and smiled lightly before taking notice at the irritated look on your face “You missed his party.” He heard you speak up and stop in his tracks before you stood up “Sweetheart there was problems with the bu-“ “You said that for our anniversary, his 2nd birthday, Christmas, Halloween, the excuse is getting outdated Cody.” He frowned and your words knowing you were right, “Well I’m here no-“ you shook your head while walking past your husband and booking it to the kitchen “I’m tired of this Cody. I love you & you know I do hut it kills me when our son is walking around with a hurt heart whenever he sees another child with a present father, he asks me almost 12 times a day where his daddy is or why didn’t you come to his birthday party. Hell he even requested to have a cake dedicated to yo-“ “Y/N I work like hell to put food on the table and keep a roof under your head!” You widened your eyes and glared “Quite honestly Cody I’d rather fucking starve to death if it meant my son & daughter’s father was present in their life! I’m sick of having all of the neighborhood moms gossiping about our marriage & I’m sick of you not being here for your kids & wife!.”

Cody frowned and tried approaching you but looked down at the counters for a split second and saw papers “What the hell is this?” You shrugged before rummaging through the fridge before pulling out a bottle of wine & pouring the red liquid into a glass “Divorce papers Cody. This marriage clearly isn’t working and I’d rather put it to an end now before it gets worse. You’re 4 steps away from having an affair with another woman with how far away you’ve been from your family so I’d rather prevent you betraying our marriage. I’m mainly doing it for the kid-“ “Y/N I would never cheat on you what the hell are you talking about?!”

You frowned setting down the glass & leaned against the counter behind you with crossed arms “You were nearly late when I gave birth to Brielle, You didn’t show up last Christmas or the Christmas before, You didn’t show up to your sons 3rd and 2nd birthday all for a fucking job that involves you getting punched everyday for a check. You forgot about our anniversary, I didn’t want to do this Cody but this marriage isn’t working, If I stayed any longer nothing would change, I have tried like hell to get you to be here for our family but your too focused on a paycheck then us.” You didn’t notice a tear roll down your face until it dropped onto your arm. Cody frowned & approached your carefully and shook his head “I’m not accepting those damn papers sweetheart, You know I won’t, I’m not leaving you or this fam-“ “You already have, You missed out on Brielle crawling for the first time, You missed out on your son joining the little leagues soccer team and getting a score, You even missed out on be finding out I was pregnant with Brielle Cody. How am I supposed to believe you when you haven’t been here to prove me anything?”

He shook his head and stepped closer towards you and tangled his fingers within your hair and wiped off your face with his free hand “Let me make it right sweetness, let me prove you wrong, I’ll do anything in my power to prevent this from happening, I’ll take time off, I’ll quit anything you want just say the word but goddamnit your not leaving me.” He crouched onto his knees in front of you and kissed your legs gently and gripped at the summer dress he gifted you that was hugging your body in the right ways, You’d never seen Cody beg on his knees before, especially for you to stay with him “Cody I want nothing from you, I don’t want child support from thi-“ “Y/N your not fucking divorcing me, I won’t allow it to happen & if you think for a millisecond in that beautiful goddamn brain of yours that I will then you are extremely mistaken.”

Your fingers ran through his hair as he stared up at you before kissing your stomach down your thigh to your leg before holding your hand and kissing the ring he placed on your dainty finger when you both were wedded. “Cody I can’t keep doing this anymore, You keep making false promises that I know I can no longer believe.” He frowned and gripped at your hips slightly while he shook his head non stop “Y/N I will never ever miss out on another holiday, anniversary, or birthday, it breaks me knowing you expect me to betray our marriage I will do anything in my power to prevent you from leaving me even if it means I quit my job baby.”

You frowned and thought about his words before hesitantly nodding your head which made his stand on his feet and holding your face in the palms of his hands “I promise I will never miss another important day ever again angel.” He mumbled before pulling her into a gentle kiss “I love you..” You muttered against his mouth before pulling away “I-I’m really sorry for pulling the whole divorce thing..” he shook his head and pulled you into a large hug “Don’t apologize sweetheart, I understand your frustrations & more than that but you also know by now that You’re not leaving me that easily” you smiled sadly against his shoulder and pull away while he gently grabbed ahold of your hand and placed a kiss on your wedding ring “Why don’t you go and get some rest alright? I’ll take control of everything tomorrow & I’ll empty out my schedule, go get some sleep alright?”

You held onto his hand and nodded hesitantly before pull away making your way upstairs to the bedroom you two would share, Cody stood in the kitchen & sighed running his hand down his jaw & glared over at the divorce papers before snatching them off of the counter & ripping them to shreds before dumping the pieces of paper in the trash before he went upstairs moments later.

The next morning you woke up to his side of the bed quite cold and empty which made you frown “Cody?” You tried calling out but you soon heard the giggles of Silas souring throughout downstairs which immediately pulled you into relief before climbing out of bed & making your way downstairs & seeing Cody serving a birthday breakfast to Silas which brought a warm smile on your face before approaching him “Morning sweetheart.” He hummed out before pushing a mug filled with coffee towards you which you took into your hands “Morning love” you walked past Silas who was eating the pancakes Cody made him & pressed a kiss into his head before doing the same with Brielle who was in a high chair.

You sat on the couch and looked over towards the kitchen once more & smiled to yourself as Cody kept to his word on being more present for you & the kids, You were immediately happy with the fact he fought for you to not go through with the divorce & ultimately proved his promises too you.

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bluewatersfairy · 3 months

Text

homebody - l.b.

loosely inspired by homebody by kalin white (a/n: i've been wanting to use this song for a longgg time)

synopsis: requested by @bemybinarystar! two people meet by chance on an app that thrives on anonymity and begin an x-rated relationship with one another filled with late night video calls.

warnings: mature content, MINORS DNI!! depictions of sex work, mutual masturbation.

word count: 3.2k

•••

Melo grabbed his laptop and climbed on top of his bed, checking one last time that there were no tell-tale signs in view that would make him identifiable. This had become a part of his routine and what was once him being cautious was now a natural habit. He originally didn’t care, it never even crossed his mind, but she had told him he needed to, she didn’t want to know who he was. That was weird for him to hear too, it reminded him of how different this relationship was. If you could call it a relationship.

When he had first discovered her, he was doom scrolling on the type of site that was created for late-night rendezvous. He’d convinced himself he was just curious, he’d laugh about it later and go back to the more traditional way of fulfilling his needs. But then he saw her smile and he had to stop scrolling. Her description was limited, her height, tag name, and that she was drawn to the anonymity of the site; tell me something good and maybe we can figure something out.

The only reason Melo had even caught her attention was because his profile looked like a cheap bot: 2 tall, 2 long, fire’n’ice, was all his profile said. His request sat in her inbox for two days until he sent her another message, ‘you ever think about castles? they got pretty ones by the lakes in lithuania.’ It was a bizarre opening, but it got him out of her requests and into her inbox.

They messaged back and forth for a full week before anything remotely sexual was discussed. Melo liked that she wasn’t jumping at his every response and that it looked like she had a life too. During that week, they hadn’t shared much about themselves, but he felt like she was investigating him, despite the very few questions she asked. The first time he received the app notification that she’d sent him a picture, his palms started getting sweaty.

He locked himself in his room, something that would become routine, laid back on his bed and opened her message thread. It was a tasteful shot of her full thighs and ass peaky out of a red silk slip. Her deep amber skin against the scarlet made him gulp. It was so little, nothing he hadn’t seen before, but it pulled his interest and ignited his curiosity. She had waited for him to see the message before she sent the follow up, ‘your turn…”

Melo had spent the next 10 minutes cleaning his floor and checking that nothing could be seen in the background from his messy room. He spat in his palm and stroked his hard-on till it was raging and grown. He held the base of his shaft with one hand and took a photo with the other before sending it through.

That was two months ago and though neither of them had asked many personal questions, there was this unspoken bond between them. She didn’t need him to say when he’d had a rough day, and he knew how she needed to be talked to. He found himself thinking of her at the worst of times and turning to her when he needed a boost. In return, he’d transfer undisclosed amounts of money to her account. Again, this was something they hadn’t really talked about, it was an unspoken agreement.

Of course, she never expected him to be so generous.

At first, she assumed that it was an attempt to impress her and keep her interested in him. She had told him after maybe a week of exchanging racy pictures that she offered more, but for it to be fair to the other people she entertained, he had to pay a small fee that he felt reflected their time together. The beauty of the site that she considered her secret life was that she got to choose her clients and could easily report and block people if they ever became aggressive or obsessive. She’d always managed to attract men who exhibit something she’s attracted to, but she knew “fire’n’ice” was closer to her age and clearly in a high position, and that image was addictive to her.

When he had first sent her a large sum out of the blue, she’d been 3 hours deep in official documents. She imagined him in a similar position, probably in slacks and a white button up, trapped in his office thinking about taking her at his desk. She’d quickly excused herself, citing lady problems, and clicked off to the employee bathroom.

Melo, who was standing in his kitchen heating up one of the several protein-based meals he had made weekly, received a message with 3 attachments. She was spreading herself open for him, and had framed her tits in such a way, he just wanted to latch on. He’d groaned loudly and abandoned his meal in favour of his room. His cock was tight against his pants and the second he freed it, he felt the ache take over his body.

He squeezed his eyes shut and pictured her, imagining how she posed. He thrust into his fist and straggled words flew out of his mouth. In the haze of the moment, he grabbed his phone and opened the camera.

“Look at my fuckin’ cock, babygirl, look how hard it is for you.” He spat as he finished his sentence, needing more moisture so he could fuck his hand better. “I bet you’d love to choke on my big fuckin’ dick, aye baby? I’d fuck your face and finish all over your tits.”

He paid no mind to what he was saying, he was just talking shit as he thrusted harder and faster into his hand. His cum spurted all over his desk, some of it landing on his phone screen. He swore and stopped the recording before bending over, his chest heaving. He’d never thought to do something like that before. She hadn’t even made a video for him, she’d only ever sent pictures. What had she done to him?

The video worked in Lamelo’s favour in more ways than he could have possibly known. She already had a growing soft spot for mr. fire’n’ice but that video sent him to the top of her list. He was the first client she reached out to during the days and his sessions were always top priority for her. It didn’t have much to do with the money, she was just drawn to him in every way a person can be to someone they’ve never met or even seen properly. He even had her questioning if she should take a step back from her other clients and just entertain him.

It was bad. Unprofessional even. But she couldn’t stop herself.

LaMelo was still checking his background when her call came in, popping up on his screen with her explicit profile icon highlighted with a red ring. He pressed the green button and did one final adjustment to his laptop so all she could see was below his neck. He always wore a black wife-beater so that his chest tattoo was mostly covered but so she could still get a good view of his toned torso and the ever growing bulge in his shorts.

“Hi pretty boy,” her ruby red lips pulled into a grin on his screen. She looked like she was laying on her stomach, her tits pushed together under a slip of vibrant material.

“‘Sup baby,” Melo swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, “you lookin’ edible.”

She giggled as she ran her hand down her neck before reaching somewhere off camera. She was sitting up, he realised, before she brought something of a prop on screen.

“I was gonna say I found these today and thought of you,” she giggled again, “I know you’re much bigger, but you can’t tell me that’s not a close match.” Melo smirked as he watched her twirl two rainbow lolly-cocks in the camera.

“They not that girthy, you could still fit them in your mouth easy,” Melo felt his dick twitch as she rested her pouty lips on the tip of the lolly.

“Are you saying your dick won’t fit in my mouth?” she bit on her bottom lip and dragged her hand down her chest as she spoke.

“I’m sayin’ it won’t be easy.” Melo’s hand moved to the bulge in his pants and he gently palmed it.

“I like a challenge,” she smiled, “I’ll make sure it fits baby, you know I’m a good girl for you.”

“Show me.”

His voice was raspy, and his dick was hard. She’d caught him at the perfect time and he knew she could tell just how desperate he was for her. He didn’t care that she knew anymore. Truthfully, he thought it showed how well they knew each other and how much he trusted her.

“Of course baby,” she grinned before adjusting her laptop camera slightly.

Melo watched closely as she spat on the tip of the lolly cock and used her tongue to glide it down. Kitten licks and teasing kisses quickly turned into her pouty lips wrapped around the head. The wet sounds her mouth made against the hard lolly did nothing but strengthen the pulse in Melo’s cock. He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip before readjusting himself, watching as she pushed the lolly further into her mouth.

“You’re such a good girl, baby,” Melo pushed out with his head leaning back. He watched her through his eyelashes, picturing her wrapped around him. His chest rose and fell at a steady pace and his skin flushed pink. He was getting caught up in the thick of things, he barely processed her transitioning from the lolly cock to one of her dildos.

It was one they had purchased together. It was a late night call, much like they were currently on, and she had wanted to find something a bit different for the two of them. Her screen was shared with him as they scrolled through an adult website. Every now and then Melo would point out one, whether he was being serious or joking was always up for interpretation.

“I want something that’s like you,” she said sheepishly when Melo had asked why he was involved, “it’s like torture seeing such a pretty and big dick and not be able to ride it.”

They’d found a dildo similar to his size and when it came in the mail a week later, Melo received a video of her putting it in her mouth, popping it out and pushing it between her tits. She said she wouldn’t to anything else without him, but he was out of town and sharing a room so it would be a minute until he was going to be able to be alone with her. It ended up being one of their better calls. Melo could barely keep his eyes open by the end of it, he felt so fucked out and exhausted, you’d think she had actually been there to suck the soul out of him. He’d jokingly texted her the next morning saying he had a sore wrist. It wasn’t a complete joke though, many coaches commented on his shooting being off that day at practice.

“Oh baby,” she moaned through the camera as she pulled the rubber cock out of her mouth, “touch yourself baby, show me how you stroke it.”

Melo was rock hard. He hissed as he ran his hand up his thick shaft and circled his thumb over his throbbing head, spreading his leaked pre-cum so she could see it. She spat on her dildo as he squirted lube on himself.

“Follow my pace baby,” she instructed, “you know how much I love to push you.”

“I’ll do whatever you say baby,” Melo swallowed and began to stroke his dick as she jacked the dildo. She switched between going fast and slow, bringing different sounds out of Melo as she encouraged him. She moaned at every twitch of his dick and felt herself growing hotter and hotter with each stroke.

“Fuck,” she spat out as Melo had to let go of his cock, his head thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut, “you wanna cum don’t you baby?”

“I don’t wanna,” Melo groaned as he smacked his cock, “you just drive me crazy Ma.” His eyes refocused on his screen to find she’d changed positions.

She was sitting now, her thighs spread so her pussy was on full display. Melo cussed at the sight of it. Even through the camera he could tell she was just as heated as he was. She was visibly swollen and practically dripping. She giggled as she slipped her fingers through her folds, a visible tremble running through her at the same time.

“Look how ready I am for you,” she moaned as she fingered her clit, “you’d stretch me out so good with that big cock.”

“I’d give you the fuck of your life,” Melo gripped his cock again, “have yo ass screamin’.”

She picked up the dildo from her side and rubbed the tip against her entrance, “tell me baby,” she hummed, “tell me how you’d do me.”

“I’d fuck you in so many ways,” he started to jerk his cock again. “God, I’d fuck you into your mattress baby, giving you the deepest strokes of your life. You’ve never had a dick like this.”

“No I haven’t,” she whined, pushing the dildo inside her, “you’d have to go slow with me, I wanna make sure I feel every inch of you.” she let out a gasp of a pet name, her free hand gripping on to her tit.

“God just the sight of your cock makes me feel crazy,” her hips were moving against her hand, pushing the rubber cock in and out, trying desperately to match Melo’s pace. If he could function enough to think of anything at that moment, he’d appreciate her commitment to making it feel like they were together, fucking. But his brain wasn’t working anymore. Everything that came to mind was nothing shy of filth.

“It’s all yours baby, and you’d look so fucking good bouncing on top of it.”

She moaned at his words, her tits bouncing as she fucked herself harder.

“This big fucking dick is all yours, whenever you want it, I don’t care where, it’s yours.”

His room filled with a mix of her moans, his heavy breathing and the sound of his hand beating his cock, slapping with how fast he was jerking.

“Oh and this pussy is all yours daddy,” she moaned loudly, “I’m all yours baby. You can put that pretty dick whereever you want and use me for whatever you need. I just need you all over me daddy, your big hands wrapped in my hair, around my throat.”

“I’ll slut you out baby,” Melo groaned as he chased her words, “I’ll make you cum so much the whole world gon’ hear.”

“I’m gonna cum,” she all but screamed, “keep talking, tell me baby, I want to hear you.”

“I’ll fuck you from behind in the mirror, baby. Smack yo’ ass and pull your hair and make you look me in the eye while you cum all over my big dick.” Melo repressed a loud moan and swallowed hard. “We gon’ fuck all night, baby, the second you cum, I’m sticking it right back in there. I’ll make it so you won’t be able to walk in the morning.”

Melo watched her body react to his words and struggled to process the sight. Her chest was heaving, fucking the dildo in and out of her hole with her hand tight on her clit. She swore over and over again until her words were nothing but moans and Melo saw everything reach it’s peak. She pulled the dildo out of her and did everything she could to stop her thighs from clamping shut.

“Holy fuck,” she gasped with her head thrown back and her hands jammed between her thighs. She collasped against whatever was behind her and Melo watched her spread herself open and squirt. “Oh baby, I’m cumming so fucking hard.”

Melo just about double over, letting out the loudest moans and groans he’d ever made as his load spurted out of his tip. He massaged his balls and watched his seed cover his lower stomach and parts of his laptop.

“Fuck,” he sighed as he leaned back and let his dick stand to its own want.

For a minute, the two of them didn’t move, just panting heavily staring at one another. Occasionally, he’d stroke his shaft and rub his balls at the same time to see if he had anything left. She was the first one to move, laying back down to the position she’d been in when the call started.

“Every time I think we’ve reached our peak, you go and do the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” she giggled as she put one of her fingers to her lips.

“Tell me how that pussy tastes babe,” he said, his voice audibly strained. She smirked and put her fingers in her mouth, sucking them off.

“It tastes sweet and creamy,” she let her wet fingers drag down her naked torso to her nipples.

“You’re a fuckin’ problem,” Melo grinned and shook his head, reaching for the rag he washed for this call.

“I’m a problem?” she giggled, pointing to herself, “you’re the one who’s got me thinking of throwing all the policies out the window.”

“Policies?” Melo asked, suddenly brought out of his post-nut daze. “What are you tryna say?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted with a shrug, “but don’t you feel it too? Don’t you want to see my face? Know my name?”

“I want all of the above, baby,” Melo pulled his laptop closer to him. “Are you saying there’s more we could do?”

“I’m just thinking out loud here,” she hesitated, “you’re the first person I feel like I’d be safe sharing my secrets with.” What was she saying?

It was a big confession, she wants to elevate things. Melo couldn’t decide if it was his money or him but he really didn’t care. He wanted to have her name and he wanted her to know his name. But it’s unique, and she’d know exactly who he was if he said it.

Fuck it.

“LaMelo,” he rushed to say, spitting it out before he could think twice. “I’m LaMelo.”

She smiled wide and he watched as she reached out to her laptop screen and pushed it back slightly.

“I’m Y/N,” she giggled.

LaMelo repeated her name, letting it pass through his lips to see how it’d feel saying it.

“So Y/N,” Melo smiled as he pushed his laptop screen a bit too, showing more of him, “if I offered to fly you out, would you say no?”

“Oh baby,” she smirked, “I’d be there in a heartbeat. I want all that dick in real life.”

“Aight, bet,” Melo picked up his phone from beside him, “you give me a date and I’ll work out all the rest.”

#minors dni #lamelo ball #melo ball #lamelo ball fics #lamelo ball imagines #melo ball smut #lamelo ball smut #nba smut #nba fics #v writes #lb #from thee queue

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crocodilenjoyer · 5 months

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you know what would fuck. doflamingo telltale heart-ing himself with rosinante’s ghost.

#op lb #riko.txt #alas it is but yet another fic i will never get around to writing 😔#doflamingo #law #rosinante

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imjustavenuxwithaboomerang · 1 month

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"we like each other" - lukadrien oneshot

(this is a lot longer than i meant for it to be but i hope you enjoy)

adrien! wait!" luka had no idea how he got into this situation. one minute he was talking with his sister on their houseboat and the next he was chasing his friend down the streets of paris.

adrien seemed to pick up speed with every few seconds that passed. oh how luka wished he participated in a sport of some kind.

"please, adrien! stop! please!" luka yelled in his friend's direction. he tried his hardest to catch up but eventually became too winded to continue. adrien turned a corner and disappeared behind a random store. luka slowed to a stop and tried to catch his breath.

what was going on? why was adrien running away? luka tried to think back to the conversation he had with juleka, in case adrien heard something that sent him on his way. nothing came to mind.

he pulled out his phone and shot a few texts to adrien, telling him that he was sorry for whatever adrien heard and that he hoped he would tell him what he and juleka did wrong.

he retraced his steps back to his boat. once he got on deck, he ignored his mom calling out to him for dinner prep and made his way to his room. he plopped down on his bed and tried to find answer which posed to be very hard without knowing adrien's thoughts.

luka snatched up his guitar and attempted to strum his way through the problem. he didn't know why it bothered him so much. obviously, adrien didn't want anyone to know what was bothering him but luka couldn't help but think that it was all his fault.

ten minutes later, a tap on his window caused luka to jump slightly. he snapped his head towards the sound to see cat noir peering in.

"you gonna let me in, guitar boy?" the cat-themed hero joked. luka stood and opened the window, still confused as to what was going on. cat noir leaped through the small circle gracefully and landed on the bedroom floor in a cat-like pose.

"what are you doing here, cat noir?" luka's voice was low and barely above a whisper. cat noir stood up and shrugged.

"i don't really know. i heard you were the one to go to when stricken with turmoil,"

"i guess i am," luka chuckled. he could've sworn he'd seen a slight blush form on the hero's face but he decided to chalk it up to the odd lighting in his room. "what seems to be the problem, cat noir?"

"well," cat noir started, "i heard...ladybug and...rena rouge, yeah that's right, talking about me, possibly maybe, and i'm just feeling insecure."

luka raised his eyebrow at the story. it didn't sound like cat noir was saying something that really happened. he noticed the way he seemed to search for his words even more than a normal person stumbling over their words would.

he let it go, "and what did they say?"

"i don't really know, they didn't say my name at all, but i just felt like their words were towards me."

"and how did you hear these words?" luka furrowed his eyebrows in deep thought.

"i, um, you're not gonna judge me right?" the hero's voice sounded small and luka wanted to reach out and physically comfort him but felt that might be too much.

"of course not."

"i was eavesdropping," cat noir seemed to move farther and farther from luka, hunching his shoulders to hide.

"maybe, they knew you were listening and tried to pull a prank on you."

"well that's just mean! i mean it would explain why you-" the hero stopped himself and frantically moved his eyes around. "i mean they-"

luka tried not to laugh, "adrien, i know it's you. you can detransform now."

"what! no! i'm not that pretty model boy, i'm just an average guy who really has to go," cat noir tried to scurry past luka but he blocked the window.

"adrien, it's okay, no one has to know that i know. but please i need to talk to you," luka reached out to grab cat noir's, who he was sure was adrien, hands. "ladybug and rena rouge are supposed to be me and jul right?"

cat noir avoided luka's eyes, "claws in," a nearly blinding neon green light filled luka's room. luka blinked away the spots in his eyes and saw his friend who he had just chased a half hour ago.

"adrien...talk to me."

"can we- can we sit?" luka nodded and moved his guitar off his bed. he patted the sheet covered mattress and sat down. adrien sat and began to fiddle with the ends of a blanket luka had.

"tell me what's going on, adrien."

"i heard you and juleka talking earlier," adrien tried to not let his emotions show but failed almost miserably.

luka knew it was about that! he kept his thoughts to himself as it didn't seem like the time. he was also confused. they never mentioned adrien by name, they didn't even allude to him. how could he have taken it so personally?

"but-"

adrien cut luka off, "wait, let me finish, or i'll never be able to say it."

luka pressed his lips in a line and urged adrien to continue.

"yesterday, i asked juleka to ask you if you liked anybody. she told me she would try her best and to come over today to hang out so she could talk with me. i got here a little too early and...heard you say no."

"what?" luka was confused.

"i was so heartbroken that i dropped the food i had brought for us all to share."

luka remembered hearing something fall outside but was too focused on the jean covered legs running away.

"i ran away so you wouldn't see me but somehow you caught up with me. i kept running because...i couldn't look you in the eye," luka could hear adrien's voice get weak with his held-back tears. "it sounds so stupid when i say it out loud."

luka grabbed adrien's free hand and searched for his eyes, "adrien, it's not stupid. i'm sorry you had to hear that," luka inhaled deeply and reached up to caress adrien's cheek, "especially because it wasn't true."

adrien's eyes widened, "i don't understand."

"adrien, please forgive me, i didn't tell juleka the truth. i do have a crush on someone," luka wiped away a stray tear that fell from adrien's eye.

"luka...what are you saying right now?" adrien's eyes seemed to bore into luka's. luka wasn't even sure if he had seen adrien blink since reciting his side of the story.

"i like you, adrien. i really like you. i'm so sorry that you thought i didn't," luka's hold on adrien's cheek never let up. adrien even reached up to keep luka's hand in place.

"really? you like...me? why?"

"why wouldn't i?" luka slightly frowned.

"i don't know. i mean, we've never really spent that much time together. i assumed you only thought of me as an acquaintance at best." adrien broke eye contact, he couldn't bring himself to look at luka anymore.

"adrien, none of that stopped you from liking me," luka stated, "so why would it stop me from liking you?"

adrien kept his eyes down.

"hm? can you answer that?"

"no, no i can't," adrien's voice went back to being small and it broke luka's heart. luka guided adrien's head up so he could look back into his eyes.

"we like each other, adrien, and neither of us can fully explain it. that's perfectly okay."

adrien's voice was full again, "we like each other."

luka tried not to let out a chuckle, "yes, that's what i just said."

"no, i mean, i didn't have to be scared. you like me as much i like you. well i probably like you a little more, i feel my feelings very aggressively," adrien started to ramble. luka had to admit, it was cute.

"i can see that," luka finally let out a small laugh.

"i'm sorry about the whole running away thing. i didn't even know i could run that fast without my miraculous-"

adrien's eyes widened and luka waited to hear what he would say.

"you know about my miraculous!" adrien whisper-yelled, he got off of the bed. he started to pace around luka's room.

"what miraculous?" luka attempted to say cooly but adrien missed the joke entirely.

"ya know, the one that transforms me into a cat man! the one that i wasn't supposed to tell anyone about! the one that gives me super fast reflexes! the one that gives me stupid cat ears- oh." luka half smiled as adrien finally got it.

"i meant what i said earlier, no one has to know that i, luka couffaine, know the identity of french hero, cat noir." luka put on a dramatic voice for the last bit, much to adrien's unamusement.

"you're not funny."

"sure i am, but i'm also one hundred percent serious. i'm not gonna tell anyone, i promise. can you sit down now?" luka extended his hand out to adrien who sighed and took hold of it.

luka pulled adrien towards him, causing adrien to yelp. adrien was pulled onto a laughing and leaned back luka.

"ow." adrien jokingly said.

luka slightly scoffed, "that didn't hurt and you know it."

"no, it didn't. i'm just dramatic."

"yeah, i know, it's very noticeable."

"you're very blunt at times, ya know that, right?" adrien shimmied into a more comfortable position, his back against the wall and his legs on top of luka's.

"and yet, you like me, so who's really the problem here?"

"both of us," they both laughed and any awkward or scared tension there was before seemed to quickly dissipate.

"ya know, the cat ears aren't that stupid. i actually kinda li-" luka was interrupted by a hand covering his mouth.

"don't you dare finish that sentence," adrien tried to say sternly but luka knew he was all bark no bite, in the most adorable way possible.

so he licked adrien's hand. adrien dramatically screamed and wiped off his hand on luka's shoulder. luka erupted in melodic laughter, which in a way, made adrien feel like everything was gonna be all right.

(any notes or criticisms or praises that you guys have, i'd be more than glad to hear about. ofc be respectful and understanding, this is the first fanfiction that i've literally ever posted on anything so ofc it's not going to be perfect. but i really hope you liked it)

#i finally finished writing it #yay #for the small amount of people who were awaiting this #here ya go !!#lukadrien #lukadrien fic #miraculous fanworks #miraculous fic #luka couffaine #adrien agreste #cat noir #juleka couffaine #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous lb #oneshot #luka x adrien #adrien x luka

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malinaa · 1 year

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love the idea of post s6 house amputating his leg. like yes i adore the hilson in s8 even though it makes me wanna tear my eyes out in grief but in fic obviously he COULD have a happy ending in that i think he’d only amputate his leg to get wilson to agree to chemo and he and wilson would have a fight about wilson’s choice to die with dignity (but obv paralleling the pilot where house says we can live with dignity we can’t die with it) and how wilson doesn’t want to be stuck in a chemo suite, suffering and in pain, wanting to die and then house comes in with some variation of that speech he gave taub where he’s like “i’m in pain every day, wilson. i wake up in pain, i go to work in pain and sometimes i want to give up. i’ve thought about it so many times—just ending it. i feel like i’ve been wanting to die longer than I’ve been alive but i’m still here. i’m here because…” [insert a very meaningful pause as house looks away from wilson’s eyes] “because there are a few things worth living for.” then house catches wilson’s gaze again, heavy with meaning.

and then wilson dry-swallows and says, “house…” but nothing would come out.

house says, “if you do chemo, i’ll amputate my leg.”

and wilson startles! he’ll stammer and say something like, “house, what are you—it’s your leg!”

idk if they’re standing or sitting or smth but im imagining house rubbing his thigh or tapping his cane on the ground before saying, “i don’t want to be in pain anymore.” i don’t want to die anymore, goes unsaid. but.. BUT: “but i won’t do it unless you stop being a suicidal moron.”

“that’s not fair.”

“when has life ever been fair. i’m crippled and you got cancer. just do the damn chemo.”

a beat. “okay.”

“okay? really?”

wilson laughs. “what, you didn’t think your speech would work?”

house rubs his thigh again. “i was willing to do anything to get you to agree.” he lets some honesty bleed into his voice. “i’m not living without you, wilson.”

“all right, house,” wilson says. “you won’t have to.”

#shows #house md #hilson #greg house #james wilson #text #tais toi lys #lys lb: house #if i actually write this fic look away .#it started out as a ramble post but now im just sobbing into my pillows #*

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inkstaindusk · 19 days

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au: partners in dreams

It's dumb, definitely dumb, but Aira wants out of this stupid hospital bed. His first attempt got the nurses running, having failed to realize that he was in his normal living body now--and that's nice, sure, he can feel his heart and he breathes of necessity rather than habit, but it's also frustrating because--

Aira sits up a little too fast as the door opens and clicks shut almost silently, but his dizziness is easily ignored. Lavender eyes meet his and the utter relief is so strong, his own well up on the spot.

"Kohakucchi," he calls hoarsely.

"Aira-han." Kohaku stumbles to the bed, all but collapsing next to him.

Aira reaches out to cup his cheeks and Kohaku does the same. For a good minute, they just stare at each other, drinking one another in, and the warmth emanating from both of their bodies. Affection floods into him, reflected in Kohaku's eyes, and he can scarcely believe he ever lost this feeling. It's deep, almost overwhelming in its intensity. For a whole week, he looked at Kohaku and felt only admiration and respect. This--this is new, yet not. It slots right in, as though it was always meant to be here.

"I love you," Aira breathes, because he can't not. He needs Kohaku to know what he couldn't tell him all week, because he himself didn't know until now. Didn't know until he woke up and his entry fee was returned to him, and all that it entailed.

Kohaku's eyes go wide, but he doesn't look too surprised. He's smart; he must have figured out what he gave. "I love you too," he returns in a whisper, thumbs rubbing Aira's cheeks and wiping the tears he barely noticed. "Me too, but, Aira-han, I have to go."

His heart drops into his stomach. "What?"

"My family--"

Oh.

"--they're bringing me back, back home for the rest of my recovery. They couldn't just move me before, but now that I'm awake--"

"Okay," Aira says. "Okay, I understand." He doesn't really understand Kohaku's situation, but he knows he can't fight his family. He closes his eyes, slides his hands down to wrap his arms around his neck in a hug. Kohaku's hands drop around his waist and he hears him inhale deeply, exhale shakily.

"Stay in contact, okay?" Aira murmurs. "Let me give you my number--oh, and my online handles. I want... After everything, we should--"

Kohaku nods, face pressed to the junction between Aira's neck and shoulder. "Yeah, we should."

They indulge in the hug for another minute, then painstakingly peel away so Aira can write his number and other contact information for him. Then, another fleeting hug, unable to help themselves, before Kohaku whisks away, back to his own room, as silent as his entrance. Aira stares longingly at the closed door, hoping the warmth in his hands doesn't fade too soon.

#bet u thought you'd seen the last of this guess again #anyway i was thinking about the immediate aftermath of the game #which i briefly referenced in the fic but never actually wrote about so here it is!#enstars #kohaai #aira shiratori #kohaku oukawa #au: partners in dreams #enstars lb #anya tries to write #drabbles #shiratori aira #oukawa kohaku #fp.txt

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caixxa · 1 year

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Thank you @arsi-lehkonen for tagging me! ❤️ Let me warn you tho, I don't even know if I have 2, 3 or 4 wips because I haven't touched them in weeks, and they're very crude fragments of rough drafts, saved all over the place, and just before seeing this tag I had thought of deleting them all. So, you kept them saved for another 12 hours.

Rules: share seven wip lines/parts.

I'll share longer parts under the cut for the reasons told above. If I decide to let these ideas go, at least I've posted some of it out there.

Smut heavy, be warned. Tried to pick tame bits.

1. "No, not whipped cream," Roope said when they were planning for the show. "Cupcake frosting will hold up so much better and we can take it slow. Cream gets runny."

"Should the frosting be pink?" Sebastian suggested. "It's a Valentine's day special after all."

Roope snorted out a short laughter and shook his head, letting it hang slightly tilted to the side and shooting a mildly amused look at Sebastian.

"No, man," he said like stating the obvious, "Pink will look like you had a nasty skin condition going on, and nobody will believe that I would put my mouth on your dick with it. You could as well suggest chocolate."

(From a sequel to money shot where Sepe is still a Brind'Amour boy and Roope is an onlyfans star and ig hottie, and they're shooting a live scene for Roope's OF. Ao3 draft set to be deleted next Friday)

2. "Do you want to be fucked into the dirt? Like a filthy little animal? Or do you want me to get you back into the house and in bed?"

Sebastian looks up at Brent, bites his lip and releases it slowly, licking the bit, red mark moist and clean.

"Yes."

(From a pwp piece where Sepe takes a trip to the ranch. This one is a Tumblr draft bc I'm afraid of Google docs. I'd have to research shooting to make any progress with this bc I'm not in the mood for writing porn and the scene needs a setting and some build-up anyway)

.--

3. Sebastian smiles as he greets him, and his eyes linger in Rod’s, the gaze smoldering enough to slow down time the same way Sebastian can do with a puck around the goal.

A languid blink, like the kid's lids were heavy from wet dreams, it's like a slow motion deke that takes out the goalie, leaving the net gaping, offering itself to be taken.

The little pink tongue slips out to wet Sebastian's bottom lip as he nods his greeting, "Hi, Roddy. How're you tonight?"

"Oh, I'm fine if you're fine. You're fine, right?"

"Sure. I'm fine. Prepared and hungry."

"Hungry sounds good."

Sebastian lets a rippling smile flash on his lips. He stops right by Rod’s side and brushes the sleeve of his jacket lightly with his knuckles.

"So hungry," he says, lowering his voice and locking his eyes in his coach's. "Starving." He pauses, further lowering his voice until it's a soft whisper. "Desperate."

(Coach x player smut, working title Game Day Suits might as well be the summary)

4. "You want to throw me in as a bait for Burnzie?" Sebastian chuckled and scratched the back of his head before sticking his tongue out from the corner of his mouth and running it over his upper lip. "Not gonna lie, that sounds hella hot."

(A super messy pwp that might be a gangbang or tons of tension or may just become a build-up for the ranch fic. Anyway, I found a pun in a Tumblr text post very inspiring and use it as a working title: call him jesus the way i make him bred and whine)

5. Pekka wakes up to a bunch of notifications on his phone screen: three missed video calls, two from Juuse, one from Sebastian. In addition to that, his inbox is flooded with video messages.

(All Stars '22 where S and Juuse promoted beverages, this is all I have written for the idea @hard4softthings gave me as an independent sequel to Summer Kisses)

6. Teemu wandered in wearing a patterned silk robe.

"Playboy night," Trevor said from the corner of his mouth.

Jamie would learn in a moment that Playboy night meant bunnies.

(From my eternity project where Mr Selanne hosts sex parties, pimping out young guys as treats for his friends and associates, this is probably the AU version)

7. “Of course. That's what they're here for. I keep a petting zoo, not an exhibition! It isn't look, don't touch. Whatever you can look, you can touch, too,” Teemu grins.

(From a later part of the prev draft)

If you read this far, thank you for your interest! As I said, these are this long for reasons.

Tagging @hard4softthings @isconnormcdavidok @aleksrothis and @thosedaysthatwill in case you have something you'd like to share!

#hockey rpf #fic #was tagged #writing #fic writing lb

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cowboyshit · 4 months

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hangman knowing rvd well enough to pick him for swerves opponent furthers my stoner hangman headcanon 😌

#aew lb #weed cw #*sorry not headcanon but my stoner hangman agenda #used the wrong word choice #yeaaars ago I started writing a one shot fic about hangy getting high and it was inevitably gonna lead to smut #but I never picked it back up again…. maybe I should 🤔

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whysamwhy123 · 3 months

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Excalibur making weed jokes about Hook, and Taz is just like ''...no idea what you're referring to.'' 🤣

#aew lb #That feeling when your God fearing Catholic son is also a major pothead #I don't normally fuck with AEW's commentary #But that shit was funny #Someone please write the fic where Hook and RVD get high together and Hook accidentally ends up calling Taz

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sydnikov · 4 months

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the ink on your skin || N. Hischier

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Nico Hischier / gn!Reader

Word Count: 10.5k

Summary: You’re a successful tattoo artist right in the middle of Newark, New Jersey. One of your many clients just so happens to be a teammate of Nico Hischier, and he and his girlfriend, Natalie, play a game of matchmaker to get you talking. While you’ve never been a huge fan of hockey, getting to know Nico gets you instantly addicted to the sport as well as him. Friendship quickly turns into holding hands, kissing, acting like a couple but holding off on a label… And then, finally, right as you’re drifting apart, Nico swoops in and turns it into something more.

Warnings: Cursing, some angst, lots of anxiety talk, Tw*tter mentions, mostly fluff, poorly proofread

A/N: This is for @selfindulgentpoorlywritten for @wyattjohnston ‘s Winter Fic Exchange 2024 😁 I’ve been wanting to write for Nico for a while anyways so this gave me the perfect opportunity, and I really enjoyed having a bit of a personalized reader insert to play around with. I hope y’all enjoy! Loosely based on the lyrics of “Tribulation” by Matt Maeson

“Fuck, man, that hurts,”

You chuckle, lifting the needle of your tattoo gun for a few seconds before continuing your work. “I’m almost done, I swear,” you reassure, hiding your smirk as you take a napkin to dab away at the excess ink surrounding your linework.

The very man you’re tattooing, Jonas Siegenthaler, or ‘Siegs’ as you affectionately call him, is someone you’ve known for years. He is also a regular of your tattoo parlor, and right now is getting a lion on his right wrist shaded in.

Playing professional hockey, he doesn’t have much time to spend keeping up with a healing tattoo, but Jonas scheduled an appointment with you a week ago after his team, the New Jersey Devils, were eliminated in the playoffs. With three months to himself, he told you that now is the perfect time to get started on shading his wrist again.

Jonas curses again as the needle goes over the underside of his wrist, and once again you can’t hide back your laughter. You’ve been a tattoo artist for quite a few years now and are fairly used to the varying reactions your customers have, but expletives always manage to get you to break character. With any other client you’d at least attempt to be stoic, but you’ve been friends for long enough to know he doesn’t mind.

Finally, you finish your work, wiping away the remaining ink and powering off your tattoo gun. “Alright, Siegs, that’s it for today.” you say, wrapping his wrist with the proper coverings. Once you’re done sanitizing your own hands, you admire the art on his skin for a moment.

Jonas does the same, sitting up with a giant grin on his face. “It looks amazing, as always,” he looks like he wants to touch his newly-inked skin, but refrains when seeing the warning on your face.

“Okay,” you say as you lead him to the front of the store to ring up his aftercare supplies. Jonas is no amateur when it comes to tattoos by any means, but you feel the need to remind him anyway because athletes in particular always tend to lax out on tattoo aftercare. “You know the drill, but I’m still telling you anyways,”

Jonas just raises an eyebrow, listening to you list off all aftercare instructions as if he hasn’t been coming to you for years. Strangely enough, he couldn’t actually think of a time you’d hung out with each other outside of your working hours. He’ll have to change that, he hums to himself, especially after seeing the small New Jersey Devils flag you have hung on the wall.

“Have you ever been to a Devils game?” he asks as you’re handing him his aftercare supplies.

“I don’t think so, no. You know I don’t pay attention to hockey that much.”

“You should,” Jonas pushes, following you as you shuffle around the entrance of your parlor, likely looking for some supply he wouldn’t know the name of. “We’re a blast. And playoff hopeful again next season,”

You shoot him a wry smile, the both of you knowing it would take a lot more convincing to get you to leave the comforts of your shop to watch a sport you’ve never kept up with before. “Yeah? I’ll consider it,” you deadpan.

The defenseman takes no offense to your words, instead finding them to be a challenge. Mischievously, he grins. “Your consideration will turn into a yes, just you wait,”

“Sure,” you laugh, changing the subject. “You get an uber yet?” It’s relatively early in the day, so competition for booking one shouldn’t be too difficult.

Jonas shakes his head, unlocking his phone at the reminder of needing to leave. “Nah, my teammate is picking me up. He’s our captain, maybe you’ve heard of him—Nico Hischier?”

You think back to news articles you’ve seen online from late April when the Devils made the playoffs for the first time in years and you think you may have heard something about the team’s captain, but otherwise you don’t know much.

“I thought everyone would have gone home by now,” you say instead. It had been a week since their season ended, after all. Maybe this Nico guy had captain duties to attend to? You figure it’s nice of him to pick his teammate up from getting a tattoo either way, though.

The hockey player hears the curiosity in your voice, wondering how you would react to meeting his captain. “We’re both from Switzerland, so we both agreed to fly home together once we were all finished up here in Jersey. Getting my wrist shaded was the last thing on the list, thankfully,”

You make a noncommittal noise of understanding, your curiosity officially peeked by this ‘Nico’ guy. If you’ve learned anything about how the Swiss act from Jonas, you’re definitely looking forward to seeing if this captain was anything like his teammate.

Soon enough, the bell above your door is ringing as a man enters the parlor. You assume it’s Nico Hischier because of the Devils beanie he’s wearing, and because he looks out of place standing in your little parlor on the opposite side of town where his team plays. You wouldn’t know he has several tattoos himself.

You meet his eyes for a moment, and it almost looks like he’s caught off guard by the sight of you before he spots Jonas. He’s tall, you note to yourself, his shy smile endearing as he greets his teammate with a pat on the back.

“Nico!” Jonas greets happily, engaging in a short conversation before he turns his arm up to show his newly-shaded ink. “This one hurt like a bitch, but it’s looking beautiful now, isn’t it?”

“It is,” the man who you now know to be Nico confirms, admiring your work on his friend’s skin. “You did this?” he suddenly asks, the deep timber of his voice catching you off guard.

“Yeah,” you say, a little breathless. He’s beautiful. You think to yourself, confused about why you suddenly feel so hot when you purposefully keep the temperature in your shop cool. “Jonas is one of my regulars.”

Nico hums in response, eyes flitting back and forth from the lion on Jonas’s wrist and back to you, undoubtedly curious about how long his teammate has known you, and why he feels disappointed that he can’t see the rest of the ink decorating your own arms.

He himself is no stranger to tattoos, but he doesn’t have many nor do his look so intricate on his body like they do on yours. I need a new tattoo artist, he thinks, then mentally slaps himself because what?

With your cheeks feeling like they’re on fire, you turn away from the two hockey players in front of you to try and hide the embarrassment you feel. Unbeknownst to you, your movements make the light catch the dainty jewelry decorating your ears and nose, and Nico now undoubtedly finds himself in awe at your retreating form.

Who are you? He thinks. Siegs is a shit for not introducing you sooner. And then he rolls his eyes at himself again. What the fuck is the matter with him, anyways? He must have gotten a concussion during the playoffs, or something.

“You’re a regular?” He looks to his friend, subtly asking how long you’ve known each other. “You must like them, then,”

Jonas never prided himself on being intuitive; Nico’s prying went right over his head. He says your name with a fond smile, briefly looking to you as you mess around your desk again. “Oh, yeah, they’re the best. They’re fucking amazing with a tattoo gun, not to mention a huge Devils fan, too,”

You just so happen to overhear their conversation. “No, I’m not,” you scowl, but quickly retract your statement because Nico is looking at you like you just kicked his puppy. “Well, I mean, I’m a fan but not, like, a huge fan. I’ve never even been to a game,”

“Siegs, you should’ve brought ‘em around sooner, what the fuck!”

“I tried,”

Nico continues on like he didn’t hear him. “You’re coming to opening night. On me—on us, yeah?”

You’re much too in shock to comment on his slip of tongue, instead staring wide-eyed as he looks at you with determination. Nico just met you, but feels this compelling need to know you beyond the fact that you’re his friend’s reserved tattoo artist.

“You might as well just say yes,” Jonas speaks up, having caught on to your hesitation. “He won’t stop until you do,”

“Damn right.” The captain agrees, crossing his arms to further cement his point.

You’re drawn to the muscles that flex under the material of his shirt, and okay. Wow. With the way your body is heating up you would think that you’ve never been attracted to another human being in your life.

Quickly, your eyes dart back up to Nico’s, and you flush when you see he’s already caught onto your admiration of his body. He raises an eyebrow, teasing, and then you finally blurt out your response lest he call you out. “Well,” you start, clearing your throat when your voice comes out hoarse. “I guess that could be fun, yeah?”

Nico’s infectious grin at your agreement has you returning one of your own, flushed at the way you already knew your life would be a much happier one if you got to see him smile like that at you forever.

The two Devils’ players left soon after that, but not before you exchanged numbers with Nico Hischier himself while a smug Jonas watched from the background. “So I can send you the tickets when the time comes,” he’d said.

It was a perfectly believable excuse to you, but Jonas clapping his teammate on the back as if it were some kind of accomplishment had you questioning if Nico planned on texting you before their opening night.

You forced yourself to forget about it, though, in the meanwhile. You still had two more clients after they left, and you couldn’t exactly do your best work if Nico’s chiseled face and soft eyes wouldn’t leave your head.

And then a sharp pang struck your heart as you figure you’re just being delusional again. Reading too much into a situation that had no call for it, and imagining the way he looked at you like there was something behind your guarded eyes he wanted to explore.

No, you quickly put an end to your thoughts, steeling your resolve as you march back into the shelter of your shop. You aren’t putting yourself through this. Not again.

In a world of meaningless hookups and disappointing endings, you were a damaged romantic who would have once given the world if asked. But that hope for the future you envision with rose colored glasses is long gone, destroyed along with the pieces of your heart that shattered the last time you let yourself get too close to someone.

You decide then and there, with the image of Nico Hischier and his look of awe the moment he first saw you, that you weren’t going to ever grant him the ability to break you like the last person who did so years ago.

Despite the politeness he exudes, you half expect him to start making a move the moment he lands in Switzerland. You think he’ll start with a text that says, ‘Hey, how are you?’ and once you respond (because you will) he’ll send you pictures of him in his homeland, ones that require a compliment or an inquiry about what he’s doing.

You think you have him figured out. Men are predictable, you would know—their brains all work the same, and that includes how they hit on people they’re interested in.

However, you’re surprised to find that a text from him never comes. There’s no message awaiting you in between tattoo sessions, no ‘how are you’ or a picture of a ski lift or whatever it is people do in Switzerland. It irritates you because you don’t have Nico all figured out like you thought.

If you couldn’t place him into the typical group of uncommitted assholes you’d come to learn, then just who is he?

The answer escapes you for many months after. You certainly don’t text him, but you do find his Instagram after drinking one too many glasses of wine and scroll through his pictures. Nico isn’t very active online is what you gather, for his last post was back in May after they got eliminated from the playoffs.

It makes him endearing, much to your displeasure. People glued to their phones and still use Snapchat as their main form of communication irritate you to no end.

Not Nico, though…

He stays on your mind for the entirety of summer, because you just couldn’t get the memory of his eyes out of your head. It panics you a little because it feels like you’re forming a crush, and your last one didn’t exactly bode well for you.

Whatever. It’s just a small, meaningless feeling that just so happens to have stuck. Nico probably wasn’t even going to send you a ticket for opening night.

This is what you tell yourself as September rolls around, the NHL preseason starts, and your stomach sinks deeper and deeper the closer the Devils’ opening night comes.

You’re thinking about him again right now, much to your displeasure, as you finish wiping down one of your stations after your last client of the day left. It was a busy one, and you’re grumpy because your neck hurts from leaning over for so long.

You accidentally knock over your cleaning spray in the midst of your aggressive cleaning, and just as you pick up the bottle there’s a quiet knock on your shop’s door.

“I thought I flipped the closed sign,” you mutter, exiting the room you were just in and walking to the lobby. You’re unable to make out who it is outside, the only striking feature being that they’re tall.

You open the door warily, speaking before they get the chance to. “Sorry, we’re closed for the night. You can come back tomorrow morning or call to book an appointment—”

“I’m not here for a tattoo.” He interrupts you with what sounds like amusement, and you freeze because you would recognize that voice anywhere.

You look up to meet his eyes, and are struck with the same dark brown that’s been haunting your mind for months.

“Nico,” you say, shock written all over your face. You lick your lips, trying to find something to say. “You’re… What are you doing here?”

“I still have the address saved from when Siegs sent it to me,” he admits, aware that’s not what you’re really asking. Facing you now, he finds himself nervous. You hadn’t changed much, except for maybe the addition of another piercing in your right ear, he thinks.

But you were so unlike other strangers he’s met in the past; they know who he is, all about his life, whereas you look at him like you’re not sure what to think.

Nico finds it refreshing. You’re intriguing, someone to figure out—not to mention he really likes your tattoos. And piercings. He fights the urge to trail his fingers up your sleeves to reveal the art decorating your skin.

You’re raising an eyebrow at him, and then he realizes he’s been silent for a good minute while he’s been staring at you. He releases a quick breath, “You still want to come to opening night, right?”

“I do,” you say, foregoing acting coy. Fuck it, you actually did really want to go. “Why? Is there an issue?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” he reassures, giving you a quick smile. “I’d just rather explain the ticket situation in person than on text,”

His reasoning sounds understandable to you, but you fail to pick up on why he still seems so nervous. It’s just a ticket to a game, right?

“So since it’s just you,” he starts, hesitantly. “You’ll be sitting with, um. You’ll be in the wives and girlfriends section.”

Truthfully, Nico wouldn’t be shocked if you decline after hearing where you’ll be sitting. He himself probably would have, because who, as a stranger, wants to sit with the players’ significant others?

He watches your reaction, holding his breath. But all you do is laugh a little, shrug nonchalantly even though internally you’re shitting your pants.

“Okay, but you do know I’m neither a wife nor a girlfriend,” of you, you want to add, but keep that last part to yourself. Even though over the course of these last few months your mind definitely imagined it.

Your expression is teasing, the corner of your lips quirked up into a small smirk that has the tension falling from Nico’s shoulders. You aren’t mad. This is a start.

He rubs the back of his neck, looking rather sheepish. “I didn’t know if you’d be okay with that,” he mumbles lowly, meeting your eyes. If you look closely you think you can see a rosy hue covering his cheeks.

“It’s just one game, yeah?” You muse, secretly pleased at the fact that he’s the nervous one this time, not you. “Nothing wrong with that,”

Nico lets out a breathless laugh, relieved knowing you won’t be caught off guard when you come to the opening game in October.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Nothing wrong with that all.”

He stays for a few more minutes after that, your conversation surprisingly pleasant with little awkwardness as you shyly ask about his stay back home, and he gladly expresses his joy at being back in Switzerland for a few months.

His unabashed enthusiasm to share his life with you catches you off guard, but you find that you like learning these little things about him. It defeats your whole purpose of not letting yourself get close to him, but you push that worry to the back of your mind for later.

Nico does eventually leave, but not before giving you a hug that leaves your heart racing. One of his hands came to rest respectfully at the small of your back, and you could have sworn you felt his lips brush your cheek before he pulled away.

“See you soon,” he had grinned, his eyes dark and enthused.

Feeling corny and rather irritated with yourself, your fingers brush the spot on your cheek, swearing you could still feel the heat of his lips.

You still don’t hear from Nico even after his visit, and you’re once again struck by the fact that you still can't tell what his intentions are. You find yourself checking your phone anyway, going so far as to stalk his Instagram. Again.

This is most definitely becoming a bad habit. A very bad one. You think to yourself as, one day, you find yourself staring at your screen once more, weeks having gone by with the brown eyed boy still on your mind.

With another client in just over two hours, you find yourself using the break to get some work done on your laptop at the desk in the lobby of your shop. You aren’t very productive, but it makes you feel better about your wandering imagination being so distracting.

Just having happened to save a finished spreadsheet of your recent clients and their pricing, a man is pushing open the door to your shop. You quickly determine that it’s some type of delivery based on the package he carries before he drops it onto your counter.

He reads out your name from a paper, glancing up at you for confirmation of your identity. “Yes, that’s me,” you say, eyeing the unknown sender label. “Do you know who sent this?” You haven’t placed any orders recently, so it isn’t something from you.

The mailman shakes his head, giving you a polite smile before wishing you a good rest of your day. You wave to him offhandedly as he exits the shop, and then find a pair of scissors to carefully cut through the tape holding the box shut.

As if you’re opening Pandora’s box, you’re wary as you unfold the cardboard, your fingers brushing against thick fabric before carefully taking it out.

Unfolded and spread out across your desk, you freeze. You’re lucky no one else is here in the front to see you because your face is a deep shade of tomato red, and you’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

Before you lay a jersey for the New Jersey Devils, and you know even before turning it over that it has Nico Hischier’s surname and number printed on the back.

As you’re staring at the jersey in awe, your fingers trailing over the brand new and surely expensive fabric, your phone pings with a new message.

It’s from a number you’d memorized months ago even though you’d never once used it to communicate. A text from Nico Hischier greets you as you unlock your phone.

UPS sent me a notification that the package I sent you arrived. I hope you like it. Looking forward to seeing you next month :)

“Oh, he’s good,” you say out loud, your smile growing even wider if that were possible. Your heart’s tempo picks up, and your fingers fly across the keyboard to respond.

You’re still not sure what he’s about—what are his plans here? Does he like you? Is he flirting for fun or does he have intentions to go forward?

You try not to overthink it as you finalize your response, pressing send soon after.

I just got it. I have to say, you’re bold. I guess I have no choice but to wear it now considering how much it probably cost you.

As if he were waiting for a response, a new message appears almost instantly.

It’s no big deal. Really. Just want to make your first game a memorable one. I’ll sign the jersey for you, too.

Careful, hot shot, I might start thinking you have other intentions here.

You wouldn’t be wrong.

September passes quickly, and before you know it October 12 is here and you’re nervously walking through Prudential Center to the section your seat is in.

You don’t stick out as much as you think you do, which is relieving because everyone around you is too focused on getting to their own seats and discussing the game.

You know you don’t fit the typical bill of someone coming to support a professional hockey player, considering what you think you are to Nico is… Complicated.

Your arms are covered in small but meaningful tattoos, and your ears are decorated with piercings along with the lone stud on your nose. You wouldn’t think someone like Nico would find it all attractive about you, but he’s said so numerous times over call and text.

You think about said communication as you finally sit down, a good thirty minutes before the game starts because nobody else is around you yet.

After Nico sent you his jersey, it’s like the floodgates opened from whatever was holding the two of you back from talking. Despite your reservations, he enraptured you from the get-go and you just couldn’t stop yourself from falling.

Nico is a really good texter, surprisingly. None of the lower case bullshit or long response times you’d expect from a sports player, but instead the exact opposite.

He doesn’t give you the feeling of talking to a child, an immature man who doesn’t know what he wants; in the time spent between him first using your number and going to the game, you’ve noticed how his responses are thought out and intentional. He responds quickly, but not too quickly to make you think he doesn’t have a career to focus on, and he makes you smile when he adds those cute smiley faces after the end of his texts.

You think you’re enjoying Nico Hischier a little too much to be normal, but you choose not to focus on that as you’re greeted by an unknown woman tapping your shoulder.

“Hi!” She says, giving you a welcoming smile that instantly puts you at ease. “Nico said he invited someone to come tonight. And Jonas,” she adds the last part like it was an afterthought, then gives you a slightly apologetic look. “He didn’t have time to tell us your name, so he just said to look for piercings and tattoos. I’m assuming that’s you?”

You’re not offended by others using your slightly unconventional looks to point you out; you’re proud of all of your piercings and the ink decorating your skin. You wouldn’t be you without them.

Slightly overwhelmed at the amount of words that just spewed from her mouth, though, you hide it well as you damper your nerves to respond. “Hi. Yeah, um, that’s me. They both - Nico and Jonas - really wanted me to come tonight.” You don’t include the fact that it was all Nico who sent you the ticket, showed up at your shop, and had been texting you nonstop for the past month.

The woman grins, seemingly relieved she had the right person. “Nico never brings anyone around so we were all pretty excited to meet you. I’m Natalie, Jonas’ girlfriend, by the way.”

Natalie is the exact type of girl you’d be expecting to date a professional hockey player. She’s blonde with a lithe figure, bright blue eyes and a face that could be on the front page of a magazine. She fits in with this crowd, not you, but you try not to let that bother you as you focus on her being the woman who makes one of your good clients happy.

Jonas has mentioned his girlfriend numerous times before, singing nothing but praises, and he’s even shown you a picture. Now that she’s in front of you, you instantly recognize her.

“I thought I recognized you,” you say. “I’m Jonas’ tattoo artist, he talks about you all the time,” maybe you were exaggerating a bit, but. Siegs wouldn’t mind. You were buttering him up to the ‘love of his life’, after all.

“He’s mentioned you too, oh my gosh, now it’s all clicking!” Natalie instantly gasps, sliding into the seat next to you. “You’re crazy talented. All of his tattoos are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you grin, a little bashful. “He’s a great guy. I enjoy working with him.”

Natalie smiles back, and soon the two of you are joined by the rest of the WAG’s as the puck drop grows closer. Just as you’re about to pull out your phone, Natalie has seemingly managed to break free from whoever she was talking to.

“So, how do you know Nico? Jonas didn’t mention much about you coming, it was mostly Neeks who asked us to greet you,”

Neeks? You file that nickname away for later, and then your face grows red because you’re not sure how to answer her question.

“We actually met because of Jonas, funny enough. He was getting his wrist shaded, right after they got eliminated from the playoffs, and he asked Nico to come pick him up from my shop when it was done.”

“I remember,” Natalie says. “We were flying to Switzerland right after he was done. Sorry, you can continue,”

“You’re good,” you chuckle. “But yeah, then Jonas mentioned how I’d never been to a game, and Nico is who managed to convince me to come tonight.” You keep it simple, vague. No need to provide a complicated answer, mostly because you didn’t know how to reply without making it seem like you and Nico hadn’t been flirting for weeks now.

She looks like she’s about to say something, but suddenly the lights are dimming and an announcer is speaking, his loud voice booming throughout the arena. The next thing you know the lights are coming back on full blast, the puck is dropped, and ten hockey players are whipping across the ice at lightning speed.

Holy shit, you want to say, the sounds of screaming fans and players slamming against the boards rather overwhelming to you but in a good way. It has your blood pumping, and while you don’t understand much of anything - like why the refs blow the whistle randomly or what certain penalties mean - you find that you’re having a good time with Natalie keeping you company, explaining things as they occur.

“That Red Wings player is going into the box which means they’re down a player, and—oh, look, there’s Nico!” She’s pointing to the ice, and you have to squint to follow her line of sight, but you quickly recognize the Swiss captain’s profile and fight the muscles in your face from breaking into a smile.

Alas, you end up losing that battle as a grin manages to fight its way onto your face anyway. You know he can’t see you from so far up, but you like to think he tries as the Jumbotron focuses on him and catches his eyes peering up into the general direction of where you’re seated.

To downplay your excitement at spotting him, you ask, “What’s Jonas’ number?”

“Seventy-one,” Natalie answers, about to say something else, but interrupts herself as she along with almost every other fan in the arena jumps up out of their seats to shout obscenities at the referees.

Yeah, you think to yourself, comically scared of the aggression these hockey fans show for their team. This will take some getting used to.

Almost three hours later, the Devils manage to secure the win for their first game of the season. They almost blew it, or that’s what you hear from others around you, but you’re just glad to have something to congratulate Nico for when you go to meet him outside the locker room.

Speaking of, you along with the other WAG’s are walking down there right now, and your nerves from before the game are coming back full-force, stomach-twisting, vomit-inducing and all.

You’re standing next to Natalie as she talks with two other girls, and you’re content to just listen because your nerves aren’t allowing you to do anything else.

Then, as if the universe were tuned into your thoughts, the locker room doors open and multiple Devils players come streaming out. They’re freshly showered, back in the suits they arrived at the arena in, and you don’t even bother to hide your eagerness as you look for Nico in the crowd.

You spot Jonas first, though, as he catches sight of Natalie and bounds over to her with open arms. “Good game,” you think she says, then says something even quieter and that’s when Jonas sees you standing next to them.

He says your name in shock before a broad smile stretches over his face. “You came!” And then he’s also bringing you into a hug, looking all too happy to have some of his favorite people surrounding him.

“I did,” you laugh, pulling back after a moment. “It was really fun to watch. I’m glad you guys won,” you kind of wince at the end, knowing their win was shaky at best, but he looks like he appreciates the humor all the same.

“Yeah, we are too,” he says, then looks as if he just remembered something. “Nico was coming out right behind me, and—oh, there he is! Neeks!” He calls his captain’s name abruptly, and you swivel around to see Nico Hischier in the flesh heading towards you.

“There you are with the nickname again,” Nico chuckles as he approaches, then embraces his friend as if they didn’t just see each other a minute ago.

When he pulls back, his eyes quickly find yours, and unlike the first time you met there’s no awkwardness as Nico gives you a wide grin before wrapping his arms around you.

“You came,” he says into the top of your hair, and you can hear the smile in his voice. He doesn’t give you time to speak before he’s pulling back only slightly, enough to see your face from below peering up at him.

You take in the sight of him above you, rendered speechless as this image of him smiling so happily will likely replay in your memory forever. Nico is pure ecstasy, delight incarnate as those dark brown eyes likely have you painted in a way you could never see yourself in.

Finally finding your words, you duck your head for a moment, embarrassed at the blush you know is on your cheeks. “I wouldn’t miss it,” you say, referring to the game. “You played great, Neeks,”

Nico playfully leans back, lightly groaning at hearing you tease his nickname. “I should’ve known they’d say that in front of you,” he sighs, but you can tell it’s in nothing but jest as his smile remains. “Thank you, though,”

And now it was his turn to be bashful, as the blood rushes to his cheeks. What a picture you’re sure the two of you were; both pairs of hands still holding the other and equally flustered expressions on your faces. You find that you don’t mind the contact, though, despite having a slight aversion to touch. Nico’s warmth is comforting, and you rather like being close to him.

It’s not until Jonas coughs loudly from behind you that you and Nico finally release your hold on one another, and you turn to see he and Natalie looking at the two of you with barely contained excitement.

You meet Nico’s eyes, both of you struggling to hide your laughs at Jonas and Natalie’s failed poker faces. “Nice assist, Siegs,” you say to break the lingering tension, and the four of you come together like you’d all been close friends for years.

As you’re all leaving the arena through the exit the players use, Jonas and Nico walk ahead of you, exchanging teasing words and lighthearted insults, while you and Natalie watch from behind.

“So,” Natalie chirps, looking at you expectantly. “What do you think?”

You’re not dumb. You know she’s asking about Nico, thinking this is the first time you’ve talked to him since you first met him at your tattoo shop.

“Hockey? Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” you say, snickering when she sighs at your avoidance. “I’ll have to go to more games.”

“Not about hockey, about Nico,” Natalie says, whispering his name as if it’s taboo. “We aren’t blind. That was a long hug, and Nico literally never brings anyone here. Ever.”

“Technically, Jonas offered to bring me to a game first,”

The spunky blonde ignores you, offhandedly waving her arm. “Semantics. He also keeps turning around to look at you. Like right now.”

What? You instantly look ahead and see she’s right, your eyes meeting Nico’s. His face turns red as he sends you a shy smile, and then he turns back to Jonas who is still talking beside him.

Natalie observes the interaction, a small grin on her face. “You’ve both been talking long before now, haven’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?” you chuckle bashfully, slightly embarrassed your interactions allow her to pick up on your chemistry so quick. She shrugs, increasing her stride to stand in front of you as you reach their cars. “A little. But I’ve known Nico for a bit now, he’s a good guy. He likes you, too, I think.”

You don’t get the chance to respond before Jonas is wrapping an arm around Natalie’s waist, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “We gotta get going, yeah? Early morning tomorrow,”

Nico’s hand is brushing against your arm as he moves to your side, unable to tell if the resulting shiver from his touch is from the slight chill in the air or just him. “We have a game in Arizona, a back-to-back,” he clarifies, answering your unspoken question.

“Ah,” you say. “That sucks.”

“Not this time. I’ll have plenty of good things to think about on the flight.” He winks at you, perfectly implying what those ‘good things’ are.

Your face turns red just as Jonas pretends to gag. “That would be our sign to leave. Right, babe?” He attempts to lead his girlfriend away, but Natalie suddenly gasps and runs back to you.

“I forgot to get your number,” she says, thrusting her phone into your hands. “We’re definitely hanging out again.” And, well, okay then. Who are you to deny her?

Jonas and Natalie drive away in his fancy sports car, which leaves you to walk Nico to his own. It’s quiet between the two of you, comforting because you’re both content to revel in each other’s company. Your hands occasionally brush - purely Nico’s fault - until he gathers the bravery to lace your fingers together just as you approach his car.

He doesn’t drop your hand, not even as he turns to face you once you come to a stop. “You have a ride home?”

You shrug sheepishly. No, you hadn’t really thought that far. “I was just planning on ubering…”

Nico scoffs, as if the very thought offends him. “Yeah, no. I’ll drive you home.” At the apprehensive look on your face, his confidence wavers slightly, and he mindlessly rubs his thumb over your hand to calm his own nerves. “If you’re okay with it, of course,”

Why does he have to be so cute? You give in instantly, the tension melting from your bones as, boldly, you use his grip on your hand to tug him closer. “That would be great, Nico, thank you.”

While his car, like Jonas’, is also expensive, you feel comfortable surrounded by the dark material and the scent of Nico’s cologne. The radio is playing softly, and he’s humming along quietly while strumming the fingers of his hand on the steering wheel. His other is resting on the gear shift, but you can tell by the way his hand keeps twitching that he wants to move it closer to you.

If you’ve learned anything about Nico within the weeks that you’ve been talking to him, it’s that he is huge on physical touch. He said it over text, but in person it’s even more obvious because his hands are rarely to himself when he’s next to you.

As the minutes go by, you finally give in to his body’s desire with a laugh as you reach over to tangle your hands together, now resting in your lap. “You really weren’t kidding when you said you liked touching, were you?”

Even with the darkness surrounding him, you can easily spot the maroon flush blooming across his cheeks. He briefly looks to you, unable to hide his grin before turning his attention back to the road. “No,” he laughs, gripping your hand reflexively like he’s testing out the contact. “I wasn’t.”

You’re both significantly more loose after you give in to your want for the other, and the rest of the ride is silent save for the occasional song lyrics mumbled by Nico. Almost too quickly he’s pulling into the parking lot of your apartment complex, and you’re disappointed when your hands release as you climb out of the car.

“Can I walk you to your door?”

“Sure.”

Like the car ride, the walk to your apartment is comfortably silent, and this time Nico doesn’t hesitate when taking your hand. He smiles when you shiver, but doesn’t say anything which you appreciate.

The elevator is stopping at your floor almost too soon, and you find yourself not wanting the night to end. You’re enjoying his company far too much, and you really like holding his hand. Imagining yourself doing this on a regular basis is overwhelming and definitely freaks you out a little once you come to a stop at your door.

“Here I am,” you chuckle, a little awkwardly. So… What do you do now? Thank him? Hug him? Kiss him?

You go to say something, anything… But Nico beats you to it. “Thank you for coming tonight,” he says, squeezing your hand. “I couldn’t see you from the ice, but I liked trying to pretend I could see you watching me.” He winks, then, and you don’t bother denying that yes, you were watching him the entire time.

You still try to be humble, though. “Thank you for getting me a ticket,” you say, trying to decide how forward you should be. His eyes sparkle, though, as you talk, like he can’t get enough of your voice… “All the girls were nice. Welcoming. It was fun pretending I was one of them.”

“I want you to be,” Nico blurts, almost breathless. “‘One of them’, that is. I think I like you,” he laughs like he can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.

You’re unable to take your eyes off him, those dark brown of his bearing into you. The color is warm, just like Nico because he reminds you of a summer day and if he's the sun, then you’re a mere leaf desperately searching for his light.

“I think I like you too,” you admit, a little quieter, a little shy. You still don’t like being touched, but as his hands come to cup your cheeks you decide that you do like the feel of his calloused skin against yours, and then he’s dipping his head to capture your lips in a kiss you don’t know you’ve been waiting for.

You melt instantly, sighing into his mouth with relief. Nico’s kisses are long and smooth, and you’re happy to let him lead before he’s pulling back all too soon, his beard scruff leaving the skin around your lips burning pleasantly.

Fluttering eyes open, leaving you with the distinct feeling of coming up from underwater. Nico looks just as elated as you feel, gazing at you from dark brown eyes filled with adoration. His thumb runs across your bottom lip, and then he’s stepping back respectfully.

“I’ll call you when I get back to my place, yeah?” He says, and you’re glad he seems just as eager to continue talking as you are.

“Yeah, that… That works,” English has left your head, and you stumble over what to say next. Nico has left you speechless, literally. “Drive safe.”

He flashes you a blinding smile, and then disappears back into the elevator.

“Oh fuck,” you say to the emptiness of the corridor. “Fuck. I’m so fucked.”

Nico calls you when he gets home, just like he said he would. He also calls you the day after that and the day after that, and when he can’t call because of a game or practice or whatever, he’s texting you.

You’re swept up in the world of Nico Hischier; his friends have become your (albeit, surface) friends, Natalie has taken you under her wing, and as the weeks go by you’re regularly attending games in the WAG section.

There’s no label on your relationship, and while you like that you’re taking this slow, there's still this desire to kiss him in front of everyone after a game won, to show the hockey world that this man, this man right here is yours.

You don’t act on it, though, as much as you may want to. You have this fear that because your appearance isn’t so conventional, that Nico would get hate for being seen with you. Everyone around you subtly hints that this fear of yours is irrational, but you know better.

As the new year comes and goes - it’s the best way you’ve spent new years in forever because Nico kisses you right as the clock strikes twelve, under the flashing lights and his cheering teammates around you - the Devils’ season continues to dominate. They’re projected to make the playoffs again, and you’re going to just about every game now to show your support.

What you don’t realize is that the fans’ scrutiny of the players only grows the closer the end of the regular season comes, and their attention also shifts to the significant others. WAG playoff jackets are apparently a thing, and you hear from Natalie how the designs for this year are already in the works.

Nico hinted one night that he wanted you to wear one by mentioning he can’t wait to see you when they’re in the playoffs. You gave him a slight look of suspicion because he said it in a way like he’s anticipating something, but he only shrugged cheekily when you tried prying.

Everything comes to an ugly head, though, when you discover hockey Twitter. You’ve obviously known of the app, but you only download it when you hear how the hockey coverage is extensive and you decide you want to keep up with all NHL news more easily.

That’s when you stumble across a term called ‘puck bunnies’, and how there are accounts dedicated to the players’ dating lives with information as trivial as who they’re being spotted with.

Anxiety takes control one night when you’re scrolling through a gossip page, and you succumb to the urge to search Nico’s name. To your horror, there are posts mentioning how a new person (you) has joined the WAG’s at games, and fans have spotted him leaving with this new person consistently.

You can’t find anything mentioning your identity, but you do find criticisms of your appearance. A lot of them. And, really, you knew this was going to happen, it was just a matter of when. The thought doesn’t comfort you, though, as your stomach drops when past girlfriends of Nico are brought up.

They’re all blondes, the occasional brunette, too. Of course they are. You figure anyways that part of the reason you were so intriguing to him to begin with is because you’re so unlike anyone he’s ever dated before. It still doesn’t make you feel better.

You have unconventional piercings, tattoos and quite a lot of them, and you don’t have the money to splurge on expensive clothing like these models do. A word a lot of these hateful posts use is ‘downgrade’, and your insecurities start to agree.

Why does Nico even like you? What do you have that these other girls don’t? From the looks of it, you’re the first of, well, you that he’s ever dated.

You hate it. You hate all of it. Twitter, stupid puck bunnies (how demeaning, too?), your incredibly strong feelings for Nico, and the thought that you aren’t good enough for him.

Now, what you should be doing is calling him. Hell, even Natalie. You know you need to talk to someone about what you’ve found, get some reassurance that the online gossip is purely just that: gossip.

But, well, you’ve never been reasonable. Anxiety and overthinking has ruled your life since you could talk. Instead, you stay silent, stew in your self-loathing and scroll through more of the disgusting Twitter thread.

You let these strangers’ words get to you, their biting insults swimming around in the back of your mind over the next few days all while everyone else is none the wiser.

Especially Nico, who thinks everything is fine until it isn’t. He’s busy with the team, leading with a grace only a captain could possess, and playing his heart out every game to ensure their spot in the postseason. He thinks your distance is because you know how busy he is and simply just don’t want to bother him.

Which, he appreciates you respecting his career, but your shortened responses, curt replies, and frequent denials to come to his games start to signal warning sirens in his head. You aren’t an open book by any means, but this… Nico finds it startling. He knows something is wrong.

So he pries. He texts you more than normal, during video reviews where he’s supposed to be paying attention to replays and right after practices, too. One could say he’s being overbearing, and in the midst of all your self-loathing and depressive overthinking, you snap.

Nico had kept texting you, over and over again, asking for your schedule over the next few days along with continuously asking about when you could see him next. Your fingers moved faster than you could think, and then you pressed send on a message you keep telling yourself you don’t regret.

I just don’t have time, Nico, jesus. Let it go.

The read receipt had appeared under the message less than a minute later, and not another text came through. You’d most definitely had a slight mental breakdown, wanted to call him and apologize and kiss away the frown you’re sure is marring his beautiful lips, but you try convincing yourself it’s for the best.

You don’t deserve all the good that Nico Hischier brings into your life. He’s far too good for you—everyone else seems to think so, too.

And so, that’s that. Nico doesn’t text you anymore and you certainly don’t text him. You’d burned that bridge with no hesitation, and any sparks that were growing between you are certainly extinguished now. This is what you tell yourself, anyways, even as you still can’t stop yourself from tuning into the Devils games over the next few days.

You throw yourself into your work, even more than before. You switch around scheduling for different clients, place multiple sessions right after the other so the buzz of your tattoo gun is too loud for you to think of anything else.

It works, for a time. But you can only do it for so long, and it doesn’t stop you from watching recaps of Nico nor does it keep you from noticing how off-kilter he seems. You’ve come to realize that whenever the captain is off, so is the rest of the team, and the Devils go on a losing streak over the next two weeks that kills you almost as much as you’re sure it’s killing them.

You still don’t contact him, though. You keep your distance, avoid the bars you know they frequent and dodge Natalie’s attempts at meeting up, too. You’re sure she knows you and Nico aren’t talking, either because of how badly he’s playing or because Jonas told her, and you don’t want to give her an opportunity to pry.

And Nico, well. He’s very obviously a mess. He’s snappy, overwhelmed, angry at the littlest things; he broke his stick against the wall during one practice because Jack had passed him a puck, but Nico botched the play just like everything else in his life, apparently.

A perk about being the captain is that none of his teammates have the guts to come up to him to bluntly ask him what’s wrong. On the other hand, his teammates follow his lead to a T, which means that as a result of his foul mood and horrible playing, their spot in the standings has noticeably suffered.

You don’t leave his head, not when he’s in the middle of a game or lying wide awake in his bed until the early hours of the morning. Many times he contemplates breaking the barrier you’d put between the two of you, to ask what he did and if there’s anything he can do to fix it. Nico thinks it’s his fault, that maybe he came off as too clingy…

He knows of your past, knows you’re so wary to jump into relationships for a reason, and figures he just did something to scare you back into seclusion.

The abrupt silence between the two of you builds, and Nico is so frustrated with himself and with you that when they play a division rival, the Philadelphia Flyers, his pent-up aggravation is released and he plays the best hockey he’s probably ever played before in his life.

Nico has never done drugs, but he’s positive the adrenaline pumping through his veins is similar to the rush of dopamine one would feel right after. He’s high off the elation of winning, and it gives him the courage to finally do something about the mounting irritation from his lack of contact with you.

He leaves the rock as soon as he’s able, breaks a few traffic laws in his haste to get to your shop as quickly as possible. It’s a long shot, showing up this late at night on a Friday, but he knows your habits and he knows you.

As he swerves into a parking spot, his gut tells him he’s right. You’re here. You have to be.

Unfortunately for you, Nico is right. You are, in fact, holed up alone in your shop, postponing the lonely ride to your lonely apartment in place of searching for something to do.

You watched the Devils game in the midst of distracting yourself, because of course you did. You saw how the players’ growing frustration led to pure determination that ultimately secured them the win.

You’re proud of them. Proud of Nico. You want to text him, do something, but… then there’s rapid knocking on the doors, and you’re peeking around the corner to catch a glimpse of the likely drunkard trying to break in.

You’re about to just wave them off, gesture towards the sign hanging on the window you know is switched to close, but the man outside speaks and you’re frozen.

“Please, baby, let me in,” the voice is laced with pure desperation, and oh, now you can see him as clear as day. He mouths your name through the glass, and you don’t have the strength to send him away.

You reluctantly unlock the door, shying away from his touch when he tentatively puts a hand on your arm. Nico is having none of it, though, and quickly grabs your hand to tug you back towards him. He’s had enough of your silence, isn’t going to let you walk away so easily this time.

When you don’t meet his eyes, he lets out a heavy breath, squeezes your hand once, then, “What the fuck is going on?” and you’re still silent, still avoidant, refusing to look up at his face. He says your name, voice anguished as he begs again, “Talk to me, please?”

You dodge his questions. “Why are you here, Nico?”

Nico reads your body language, watches as you refuse to meet his eyes and finally break away from his touch. He realizes he still affects you, and that you pushing him away is purely because you’re in your own head and don’t know how to get out of it

“Did you see my game?” Nico eventually asks, realizing he has to approach this gently, like you’re a wounded animal and in a sense, you are.

You did, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. (He knows, anyway). So you just shrug, pretending to fiddle with the random shit on your desk.

“So that’s a yes,” Nico mutters to himself. Then, he speaks up, louder, so he knows you hear him. “I scored a goal tonight.” he pauses, waits for your reaction.

You look up then, only for a moment, squinting your eyes in what looks to be a glare. “Congratulations.”

The way you look at him screams paranoid, insecure, and suddenly Nico is hit with the memory of a conversation he had with a fan a few days ago. She was young, in her early teens and certainly not out of highschool so he didn’t take her gossip too seriously, but…

“You guys are so cute!” he remembers her squealing, shoving her phone in his face. It was a blurry picture of the two of you holding hands walking out of the arena, that much he remembers. “Everyone’s hating on them online but they’re all just jealous you’re taken now.”

Nico had been signing her jersey when she said that. He raised an eyebrow, was tuning her out slightly. “Hating? On Twitter? Shocking,” he had laughed. “Does anyone take them seriously?”

The girl - whose name he now doesn’t remember - had shrugged. “A few obsessed people, yeah. Don’t go on Twitter if you want to keep your sanity. I’d tell your… friend that, too.”

Except he didn’t. Her words went through one ear and right out the other, and it’s like a halo of light just lit up his head because oh, Nico understands now, and he feels his stomach dropping over the thought that you’ve been living with this for weeks now.

Nico scoffs at your sass but it sounds more like a laugh. He knows what to do, now. “Signed a few fans’ jerseys after the game, and then I remembered an interesting conversation with this one girl a few games back. It was really enlightening. Wanna know what she said?”

You know what’s coming. You’ve already seen what people say about your rumored relationship with Nico, and you think he’s just telling you this to definitively end whatever you started with each other.

Words escape you, but what does manage to come out is a choked up, “Not really”, under your breath.

“She said people talked about us online. Were saying a bunch of bullshit about how you ‘aren’t my type’ and that I’m too good for you. Can you believe that?”

Nico takes a few cautious steps towards you, leans over your desk to gauge your reaction. He sees the light sheen in your eyes, the way your hands tremble as you attempt to look like you aren’t hanging on to his every word.

But Nico sees right through you. He understands immediately, in that moment, why you’re pushing him away, and it breaks his heart into a million pieces.

“Oh, baby,” he coos, softly. “You didn’t think I agreed with them, did you?”

You try to respond, but you cut yourself off by letting out a sob as the overwhelming emotions catch up to you.

Nico immediately rounds the desk, his own eyes tearing up as he wraps his muscular arms around your body in a protective hug. You’re shaking as you bury your head into his neck, spurting apology after apology.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,”

“I know,” he shushes, one hand running through your hair while the other rubs soothing circles on your back. “I know. It’s okay,”

“Why don’t you hate me? You should hate me,”

“I could never hate you.”

You don’t let go of Nico, not even as he slides down the wall with you in his arms. It’s behind your desk, so you’re hidden from view. The thought that he did this on purpose so you can break down in peace only makes you cry harder, and yet he doesn’t falter in his comfort.

“Is this why you went silent on me?” He eventually asks, gently, so as to not startle you. “Because of… Twitter?”

You nod imperceptibly, feeling rather embarrassed now that it’s said out loud how much online gossip has bothered you. It wasn’t just because of that, though. “It’s stupid, I know—”

“No, no it’s not. Your feelings aren’t stupid.” He says immediately. “I’m sorry you found those things online. I wish you would’ve told me, or something, that way I could’ve reassured you,”

“I should have,” you say. You almost lost him, this person you care about so deeply. “You scare me so much, though, you know?”

Nico jerks, aghast. “No, no, not like that,” You reassure, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “I mean… What I feel for you scares me. Like it’s too good to be true,”

You’re nervous to continue, but then his fingers begin tracing the tattoos on your arms and you shiver because of an entirely new reason, other nerves forgotten.

“And, I don’t know. I guess I was looking for reasons to doubt… Us. Which is wrong, I know. And then I found the Twitter thread, and I let their words confirm what I was already thinking.”

One of his hands trails up the back of your neck, gently massages the skin there for a moment, and is then carefully smoothing over some of your older piercings, admiring how the jewelry looks against your skin. He’s working to calm you down, and it’s working because you then realize you've forgotten how to speak.

“Um,” you swallow, throat dry. “You’re here, though,” you finish lamely, finally meeting his eyes in awe.

“I am.” He affirms. The hand on your arm joins the other to cup your face, and then your eyes flutter shut as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “And I’m not going anywhere, yeah? Not unless you tell me to fuck off. ”

“Okay,” you whisper, assured and now content as his arms go back to curling you into his chest. “Okay. Sounds good.” And then a thought strikes you, like the deprivation of his life you’ve been forcing yourself to deal with has had enough. “When’s your next game?”

Nico’s face breaks out into a beautiful smile, one that takes your breath away. “There’s one at home next Thursday,” he says. “I think Natalie might hurt me if I tell her that you’re still too busy, so does this mean you’ll come?”

“Can’t have that now, can we?” you murmur, matching his grin. “But yeah, yeah, I’ll go,” and back to cool nonchalance you go, unable to take the love rushing through you.

Finally, you find the strength to lift yourself off the floor. He immediately grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together. As you stand in the middle of your shop, smiling goofily at each other, he looks nervous again, and his thumb smooths over the back of your hand reflexively.

“I’ve missed you,” Nico admits, looking down at you shyly. “Didn’t realize how much I liked having you in my life.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, genuinely upset with yourself for shutting him out. “I missed you too. A lot.”

“So we’re good now, then?” he looks anxious, like he thinks he still did something wrong. “You’ll talk to me next time?”

“We’re good. I’ll talk to you,” you swear. And you’re serious this time. It hurt you just as much as it hurt him to fall out of contact for weeks. Terrifyingly enough, you’re sure it’s because you’re falling in love with him.

You’ll hold back from saying those three words for a little while longer, though.

“So,” you say after a moment. “Catch me up? On everything I missed?”

He grins again, and you think it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. “Can we recap back at my place?” At the suggestive look on your face his face quickly turns red. “I just miss having you in my bed,” he mumbles, and at your laugh just starts dragging you to the door.

“Wait, wait, I need to lock up!” Nico playfully groans, squeezes your hips with a mocking “hurry up” and then you’re running out onto the busy streets of New Jersey like two reckless teenagers looking to elope.

It’s healing, freeing, and dangerous all at once because you can’t stop giggling and Nico can’t stop kissing you, and as you look at his face outlined by the red of a stoplight you think, I could fall in love with him.

You’re sure he’ll catch you when you hit the bottom, too.

A/N: I was planning on including smut but since I wrote this with a gender neutral reader not even I could make that work LMAO regardless, I hope you still enjoyed! I haven’t written a 10k+ fic in a while so I had a lot of fun with this one. As always, comments and reblogs are much appreciated <3

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mamirhodessxox · 17 days

Text

Too Sweet (Part 2)

Stalker Professor!Cody Rhodes Stalker fem!OC

Desc- Zoe is a 23 year old enrolled into University who is well known across campus for participating in Ballet & even auditioning for one of the most important roles of the year, but she seems to be quite infatuated with her professor without realizing he is 100x more infatuated and obsessed with her, the two grow a bond and soon realize they would do whatever it takes just to be happily together forever.

Contents- Fluff, Angst, Smut in some chapters, Use of Alcohol & Marijuana, Arguments, Soft/hard Dom, Mutual Stalking, Murder, Violence, Gore Details, Kidnapping, inspired of off the show ‘You’ & ‘Black Swan’ fingering, Hand kink, Size kink

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @cococodysleevlesshoodie

Cody admired Zoe’s determination, he watched her every single move despite her not knowing he knew everything he needed to know about her. Everyday early in the morning around 5 AM she would leave her dorm to get breakfast, clean up after herself, read, get ready for her classes that didn’t involve him. Every night she would practice on her sprained ankle no matter what, depending on when her practice was over she would go to a bar with her friends, after that she went back to her dorms and switch into more relaxing clothes.

She was a coffee girl, she loved her coffee, she always ate scones with her coffee on the way to her lessons, In the afternoon noon she would get some sort of refresher drink, her favorite show was either Gilmore Girls or Pretty Little Liars, often at night her and her roommate would study together and gossip or plan for the weekend, her favorite colors consist of maroon or magenta.

Some nights when she was alone she often read or touch herself to the point of overstimulation, he knows everything she does 24/7, she could never keep a secret from him if she tried.

He needed her.

He knew everything he needed to know. He was obsessed with Zoe. He realized her friend Keith wasn’t a threat to Cody & his chances with Zoe, he was just some high guy who enjoyed having fun & didn’t want a relationship.

Classes between Zoe & Cody were becoming more “intimate”. They shared direct eye contact when he was speaking, he would “mistakenly” place his hand on her thigh when he would check on her assignment.

Today she sat further up front this time but still tried focusing on the material but her own professor was becoming a distraction, once he gave the class time to themselves he leaned against her desk “How’s your ankle?” Nina scowled at his words “It’s doing better, sore but mostly better.” He smiled with closed lips & examined her choice of wardrobe, shorter skirt, a much more revealing top barely giving him anything to imagine, her hair in a ponytail with a bow attached to the hair band, cute.

“Any plans for this weekend?” Zoe smiled shaking her head as she set down her pen and gave him all of her attention “Nope, not for me at least, I have to study and stuff” he hummed listening to her words “Well I’ll let you get back to your work.” The two smiled at each-other before he sat down, moments later Nina walked towards him with a sway in her hips, “Mr Rhodes I don’t understand this assignment.” He sighed as he explained it to her once more while Zoe had a slight glare as a pang of jealousy pinched her heart but felt sudden ease “Maybe if you stopped worrying about spraining other people’s ankle’s you’d pay attention better”

She smiled to herself and looked down at her note book as Nina scoffed walking back to her desk, at the end of the lesson everyone was leaving but Zoe had been behind as she was packing up her bag but Cody stopped her “Whens your ballet show?” Zoe stopped and turned towards him “Why, You wanna go?” He shrugged as he shoved his hands in his pockets before tilting his head “Do you want me to go?” She stood there as she started to feel nervous “Words sweetheart c’mon” he teased her while he stepped closer and closer to her “Do you want me to go?” He had yet again in a more stern tone before she nodded “I-uhm- Yeah! yeah you can go, it’s next Wednesday” he smiled while holding onto her chin “Your so pretty like this you know that? All nervous & shy? It’s adorable.” She smiled softly but her eyes started lowering when both of them kept leaning closer to each other, she let out a short whine the most his lips ghosted over hers

His stare bored into her eyes until he got tired of the silence & looked back at the door of his classroom to make sure it was closed, but he needed it to be locked, he walked off for a split second before locking it completely shut before returning back to Zoe & kissing her in a hurried manner before picking her up & sitting her on the desk she sat at, the more his teeth nibbled against her lip the more his hands ran up her thigh and under her skimpy little skirt until his fingers made contact with her panties, Zoe moaned against his mouth & held onto the back of his neck until his phone started ringing, “damnit.” He hissed giving her one more kiss and a pat on her clothed clit before pulling away & picking up the phone. Zoe got herself together and hopped off of the desk before grabbing her thinks & mouthing too him ‘I’m gonna head out’ he nodded with a grin on his face before kissing her one last time.

She needed him. She needed him. She needed him. She needed him. She needed him. She needed him. She needed him.

Later that night she sat in her dorm staring at her computer as she struggled to write the essay she needed done by tomorrow for Cody’s class, she went over the past reviews but she still couldn’t find the inspiration so, she called him. “Hello?” She paced around the room & cleared her throat “h-hi! Um- listen I don’t know how you write this essay, it’s just- I don’t know what to d-“ “are you alone?” She furrowed her look “yeah..” “for how long?” She picked at the sides of her skirt “all night..my roommates at a sleepover.” Cody then hung up leaving Zoe confused. She sighed rolling her eyes as she sat back down at her desk and stared at the screen yet again for 20 more minutes.

The silence was getting to her until hard knocks pounded against the door which made her get up & open it “Oh! Hey” Cody gave her a gentle smile & welcomed himself in “writers block?” She sighed nodding “Yeah I guess, I just don’t know what to write about for this essay, this is probably the first time you will end up giving me an F” she shut the door behind her & locked it as-well as she watched him sit down in her chair “well, if you want to make your life easier, you can write the essay about the Mind & it’s consciousness, you have enough material, you have the notes, why don’t you do that? And I wouldn’t give you an F, you’ve always turned in good material of work last minute, You have straight A’s & I refuse to break that streak for you Doll” She smiled at the suggestion & nodded in agreement

“I-“ Zoe was about to speak but her phone started ringing making her roll her eyes and huff as she went to go check it, one of her close friends Mae was calling so she decided to answer “Hello?” “ZOOEEE Where the fuck are you? Alice said you might come to the party?” The girl smiled as she sat down on her bed looking over at Cody “yeah she said MIGHT, I wasn’t able to tag along I have an essay to finish by 11:59” Mae groaned out dramatically “You already have straight A’s, take an C+ this time and come get drunk! You deserve a break!” Zoe chuckled shaking her head “I can’t, this one a little bit more important” eventually she had hung up the phone call after talking for a bit more.

Cody grinned & spun around in her chair “You’re quite popular huh?” Zoe raised her eyebrow & shook her head “not popular, I just have a lot of friends” he hummed and looked around at the dorm “It’s pretty cozy in here, perfect place for homework” she smiled at his words and nodded until he stood up and started hovering over her “Do I ever tell you how pretty you are?” Zoe shrugged and started pulling him down towards her “I think you’ve said it once or twice” he chuckled and pressed his lips on hers before pressing her into the tacky mattress, his tongue slipped past her lips while she gripped at his black hair and even traced over the tattoo that laid almost perfectly on his neck, Cody was tugging at her top a bit but eventually she held onto his hands and pulled her face away from his & just laid there “is it okay if we don’t have sex..? I just- I just wanna lay here..with you” he smiled down at her and shuffled next to her and wrapped her in his arms “That is something I can definitely do.” He mumbled before pressing a kiss against the temple of her head before the two drifted off to sleep.

The next day Zoe woke up around noon-ish and Cody was no where to be found, she checked her phone and he did message her..how sweet

Zoe smiled as she read the message and decided to call him while she got dressed for the day, “Well good morning to you doll, sleep well?” She smiled to herself as she set the phone on the desk and on speaker so she could hear him “Like a baby. Thank you for semi sleeping over last night, I enjoyed your company.” He chuckled over the speaker, she could hear the smile on his face by the way he spoke to her “See you at tonight’s football game?” He hummed in agreement “Yup, wear something warm doll, it’s gonna get pretty chilly tonight.” She smiled as she tugged her tights on followed with her skirt “Consider it done. See you later” she hung up before putting a sweater on and some earmuffs until Alice, Keith & Mae walked in “Girl what the fuck are you wearing?” Mae questioned and she stood with a hand on her hip while Zoe looked at her confused “Warm clothes since it’s going to be cold at the ga-“ “you’re not wearing that gilmore girl, where are the booty shorts?” Alice chirped as she immediately booked it to the dresser and pulled out a lowcut shirt that had the university’s name on it followed by light blue denim shorts and a black pushup bra “put those on.” Zoe sighed and grabbed the clothes Alice held out for her before booking it to the bathroom getting changed.

Once she came back in the dorm Mae nodded approvingly “Tits out and everything, do you have pain still?” Zoe nodded curiously pointing at her desk, Mae walked towards it opening one of the drawers and pulled out the pain that matched the school colors before pouring some in her hand, Alice & Keiths “Put some hand prints on her thighs real quick.” Keith glared “I’m not groping her thigh bro” Alice glared “Keith do it and I’ll buy you a pack of pre rolled blunts.” His eyebrows raised and immediately started putting the paint hand prints on Zoe’s thighs with the other girls until they were finished “It’s never too cold for school spirit.” Mae sighed in an accomplished tone.

Zoe shoved her phone in her pocket and smiled before everyone grabbed what they needed & started heading to the football stadium on campus, Alice & Zoe were in charge of getting good seats while Keith & Mae quickly rolled blunts under the bleachers to smoke during the game & went to get food, Zoe sat on the metal seat & checked her phone noticing Cody’s text “What happened to being warm?” Zoe looked around her surroundings with a furrowed expression until she saw him from the stairway walking up the bleachers with…another woman holding his arm?

Her expression dropped and quickly looked away before Cody noticed she saw him, Alice noticed the sudden mood change “Hey what’s wrong?” She shook her head and pushed back her hair a bit “Nothing, sorry I just zoned out.” Alice smiled and nodded while Zoe stared at her phone watching Cody text her multiple times before she shut it off, Keith & Mae made it to the seats holding a variety of snacks

Most of the game was pretty boring, Keith kept it lively though by being a passionate football watcher, meanwhile Cody wanted to trying to get Zoe to respond to him, the girl who brought to the game was beyond irritable, she was a college faculty member who insisted on going to the game with him, what was her name again? Emily? He didn’t care to remember. All that was on his mind was Zoe. Zoe Zoe Zoe. He watched as she interacted with some guy who sat next to her friend group & laughing at his jokes, soon the laughing turned into flirting..and then the flirting turned into kissing, Cody was beyond furious, beyond.

Once the guy walked off he took it upon himself to follow the guy & snatch rubber gloves from a hot dog stand and putting them on before catching up towards the male who was smoking a cigarette near the bottom of the bleachers who quickly noticed Cody.

“Oh, Hey man you need a light?” Cody shook his had & sighed “Yeah I do actually, mind if I-” The guy nodded and tossed the lighter towards him which he caught, Cody cleared his throat & acted as if he was searching for a cigarette for his pocket until he got tired of acting & i grabbed the nape of his neck & slammed his head into one of the metal rods that held the bleacher up clearly knocking out the guy, Cody grumbled as he lit the lighter & set his hair into flames followed by his clothing before quietly sneaking away from the scene & shoving the gloves in his pocket.

“Fucking idiot.”

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