#and he's been so busy trying to prove he can be a player that he hasn't even thought about being a person yet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chelseachilly · 2 months

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tired of loving from afar

pairing: mason mount x reader warnings: none, mostly fluff with a tiny bit of angst! word count: 5.3k

a/n: not me writing for someone other than ben lmao?? been really in my mase feels lately so here's a fluffy little long distance relationship fic (also was very happy to read this morning that he's likely going to be back after the international break! my heart has been hurting for him this season 🥺) have a great weekend loves 💓

Of the three years you’ve been with Mason, the past six months have been the hardest by far.

You’d overcome other hurdles in your relationship, like adjusting to the exposure and demanding schedule of a professional footballer, learning to cope with your life being somewhat public and thousands of girls being in love with your boyfriend. None of this was nearly as challenging as having to adjust to him living 200 miles away from you.

His move to Manchester was bittersweet - you were so proud of him for getting a spot at such a massive club and finally receiving the appreciation and recognition he deserves. You knew he was happy to have a fresh start and a chance to prove himself as a player.

At the same time, it was incredibly emotional for him to leave his boyhood club, his friends, his family, and you all at the same time. You would’ve given anything to go with him, even if it meant leaving your own friends and family in London, but you were about to start your final year of uni there. You couldn’t just pack up and go, no matter how much you wanted to do so.

You’re passionate about your studies, and you knew it would all be worth it when you graduate and get a job in your chosen field - and in the same city as the man you love. You knew it was only a year.

That didn’t make it any easier to say goodbye.

You’ve both made a massive effort to see each other as much as humanly possible, going up to Manchester every time you have a break from classes or a weekend without an exam or assignment due. Mason has also come back to London any time he gets the chance, sometimes flying out just to see you for the day. You’ve been making it work, but it’s not nearly the same as living in the same house as him. Even when you were both super busy, you at least got to see each other when you woke up and before bed, and now all you have are texts and FaceTime calls.

On a night like tonight, when you’re exhausted from the week and you just want to be wrapped in his arms watching a film, FaceTime really feels like a poor replacement for the real thing.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Mason says, a sleepy smile on his face as he answers your call. “How was your day?”

“Hey, Mase,” you say, curling up with a blanket and admiring his face in the soft glow of his bedroom lamp. Judging by the fact that he’s in bed by quarter to nine, you figure he’s as worn out as you are. “It was okay, felt long. I finally turned in my essay, though.”

“Good work, babe, I’m sure you aced it like always.”

You blush a little, never growing tired of how he takes every opportunity to praise your intelligence. Any time someone asks about your studies, he does a full spiel about how smart you are.

“We’ll see,” you say. “How was your day, love? Any updates at physio?”

The way his smile instantly fades makes your heart drop to your stomach, fearing the worst.

“Yeah, um-it’s looking like a bit longer,” Mason says, and you can tell he’s trying to keep his voice steady so you don’t worry too much. “Maybe another few weeks. They’re not sure.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” you sigh. “I’m sorry. I know how frustrating this is.”

The hardest part about being away from Mason has unquestionably been watching him struggle from afar without being able to properly support him. From the rocky start to the season, to being out due to injuries basically ever since, it’s been torture not being there for him.

You went up straight away when he first injured his calf in November, needing to both emotionally and physically care for him, but you couldn’t stay long before your exams started. Since then, you’ve done your best to help from London - sending him care packages, calling him as much as your schedule allows, asking Luke and Anouska to keep an eye on him and let you know how he’s holding up.

In moments like these, though, what you really need is to hug him and tell him everything is going to be alright.

“Yeah, it’s a bit tough,” Mason admits, fiddling with his hoodie string. “But at least I’m back in partial training, it could be worse. I could’ve done my ACL or something, you know? I’ve been pretty lucky in my career so far.”

One of the many things you love about him is his infectious optimism, how he always sees the best in situations and in people.

Right now, though, you’re not sure you fully believe the words leaving his mouth. He looks so disheartened and downtrodden.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask, frowning. “I know it’s not the news you’re expecting, you’re allowed to be disappointed.”

“I’ll be fine, angel, don’t worry about me,” Mason reassures you. “Just missing you a little extra today.”

“Me too,” you murmur, touching the screen and wishing it were his face. “I’m sorry I can’t make it up this weekend, but this group assignment-“

“Don’t apologize, baby, I know how busy you are this term,” Mason cuts you off, just as he always does when you try to apologize for being so far away.

You do the same to him when he tries to say he’s sorry for uprooting your life together, for not being there when you’re stressed about school or just having a bad day. Truthfully, neither of you are at fault, it’s just life. But it still sucks sometimes.

“We’ll see each other in a few weeks when I have my reading break,” you remind him. “Just a while longer.”

“I know, I’m counting down the minutes,” Mason smiles.

You talk for a little while longer before you reluctantly have to go so you can get ready for bed, and you promise to call him again tomorrow night.

The sad look on his face when you say goodnight lingers in your mind as you shower and do your skincare routine, and by the time you climb into bed, you’ve made a decision.

First, you message your group for the assignment you’re working on and ask if you can push your planned meeting to Monday rather than Saturday. Next, you text Luke and ask him to make sure Mason doesn’t have plans tomorrow night.

Lastly, you book a train to Manchester, because you’ll be damned if you don’t go cheer up your man when he needs you.

The moment you arrive at the train station in Manchester the next day, you hop in an Uber and make your way straight to Mason’s.

You know that he’s still at training and will be for at least another hour or so, as you’ve been texting Luke for updates so Mason doesn’t get suspicious. It’s not unusual for you to ask how his day is going, but you don’t typically ask for the exact time he plans on leaving Carrington or instruct him to go straight home after training.

Using the key that Mason gave you when he moved in, insisting that it was still your home even if you don’t live there the majority of the time, you let yourself into his house.

You drop your bags and immediately get to work on creating the perfect cozy, romantic Friday night in.

By the time you get the text from Luke that he’s on his way back with Mason, having devised a fake plan of coming over to play FIFA after training to ensure Mason didn’t make other plans, you’re just finishing up.

You’ve successfully transformed his house, which he bought furnished and has put very little effort into making homey, into a much more welcoming environment.

You ordered flowers for the kitchen table, as well as enough groceries to make dinner for him tonight and to replenish his far too empty fridge. You did a bit of tidying, deciding to do a few loads of laundry for him when you noticed there was quite a pile forming, and it must have been a week or so since the cleaning service he pays for came.

You put some soft music on his speakers and lit a few candles in the kitchen as well, popping a bottle of white wine into the fridge so it’s ready for your dinner.

You’ve just started chopping a few veggies to get a head start on dinner when you hear the sound of the front door opening followed by distant voices, one of which you immediately recognize as Mason.

“Do you hear that music?”

The sound of your boyfriend’s voice after weeks apart fills your stomach with butterflies - you’re just as giddy to see him as you were in your early days of dating.

“Probably the neighbours, mate,” Luke responds, still playing along with your ruse.

“I don’t think-“

Finally, the guys turn the corner into the kitchen, and you see Mason come into view with Luke trailing behind him. His eyes widen in surprise for a moment, slightly startled by there being someone in his house, and then he realizes it’s you and his mouth falls open in shock.

“Surprise,” you say shyly, while Mason is still at a loss for words.

He immediately drops his training bag to the floor and makes a beeline for you, pulling you into a tight hug and lifting you off your feet before you can even hug him back properly.

You relax into his arms right away, squeezing him just as tightly as he’s squeezing you and breathing in the familiar scent of his soap and aftershave, freshly showered after training. It’s the same scent that lingers on the t-shirts and hoodies that you steal from him every time you come up, wearing them until you regrettably have to put them through the wash.

“Baby,” Mason mumbles into your neck, pressing little kisses there. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I’m here,” you confirm, wrapping your legs around his waist as he refuses to set you down or let you go. “I missed you way too much to wait another three weeks.”

He pulls back far enough to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, his hands sliding down to your thighs to support your weight as you kiss him back. You can feel the pieces of your world shifting back into place, your heart settling in your chest as you sink into his warmth.

Mason presses a few more quick pecks to your lips before reluctantly setting you down, arms still wrapped around you. It’s only then that you realize Luke is still here, shuffling awkwardly in the corner.

“Thanks for your help, Luke,” you say with a shy smile, moving to Mason’s side.

“Of course, the man never shuts up about how much he misses you, so it’s really a favour for me as well,” Luke jokes. “I’ll leave you guys. Enjoy your evening.”

“Thanks, mate,” Mason says with an eye roll and a grin before turning his attention back to you, pressing kisses to your head.

“Night, Luke! Give my love to Anouska and the kids,” you call out, though you’ve also turned back to face Mason and bury your face in his chest.

You remain in each other’s arms, just holding one another and breathing in and out for a minute or two.

You knew you missed him, but you don’t think you realized quite how much until right now. It’s taken such a toll on both of you being apart for so long.

“How long are you staying?” Mason asks quietly, almost like he’s afraid of the answer, as he lightly rubs your lower back.

“Until Monday morning,” you say. You wish it were longer, but three nights together is the best you’ve gotten in a long time.

“Really?” Mason asks, pulling back and looking at you with bright eyes. “I thought you had to do your group assignment tomorrow?”

“I pushed it to Monday, I had to come see you after we spoke last night.”

You reach up to cup Mason’s face with one hand, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. Judging by the way he’s avoiding eye contact with you, you know you were right to come. He’s obviously been struggling with the disappointment of the never-ending injuries, all the uncertainty it’s brought.

“I’m okay,” he says softly, turning his face to press a kiss to your palm. “Now that you’re here, everything’s okay.”

You melt at his gentle words, but they don’t do much to ease your worries about his emotional wellbeing.

Mason gives you a quick peck on the forehead before looking around the room, noticing the food you’re preparing and the cozy, romantic vibe you created for your evening.

“What’s all this?” he asks, a small smile on his face.

You’re not keen to drop the subject, but you don’t want to ruin your rare weekend together by bombarding him with questions either. You know he’ll talk about it when he’s ready.

“I just ordered some food for dinner and restocked your fridge a bit,” you explain. “I figured you would be happy to stay in tonight, so I got stuff to make your favourite pasta.”

Before he can respond, the dryer beeps, signalling that the load is done. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Are you doing laundry?”

“I just threw a couple loads of your clothes in, I noticed you were running behind,” you shrug.

Mason looks at you with complete awe, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he says softly. “You being here is enough. It’s more than enough.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck once more.

“I know, but I wanted tonight to be perfect and relaxing,” you explain, pecking his lips. “No stressing about football or school or anything else. Just you and me.”

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” Mason sighs, squeezing your waist. “Can I help you cook?”

“No, but you can pour us both a glass of wine from the bottle in the fridge and sit down and tell me about your day,” you smile, kissing him one more time before pulling away to return to your meal preparations.

Mason does as told, sneaking another few kisses when he brings you over your glass, then sitting at one of the stools at the kitchen island.

You treasure this domesticity more than almost anything with him - the simple act of chatting about your days while making dinner is something you’ve missed terribly.

When the pasta is ready, you dish it out into two bowls and bring them over to the table.

“God, I missed your cooking,” Mason grins as he dives into his portion, obviously starving after a day of training. “It’s delicious, babe.”

“Thanks, Mase,” you reply, pouring yourself a little bit more wine. “You want some more?”

“Might as well, it’s not like I’m playing tomorrow,” Mason says, the offhand comment hurting your heart much more than he intended.

He’s still smiling at you as you pour his drink, but you don’t believe for a second that it’s real.

“Do you want to go tomorrow?” you ask after a minute of silence while you both eat. “I know you usually go to the home games, right?”

Mason shrugs. “Yeah, we can if you want.”

Once again, you don’t press him further, listening as he changes the subject and starts updating you on Ben’s latest girl troubles.

After you’ve finished and cleaned up, you head into the living room to catch up on the new episodes of Drive to Survive. You always save your favourite shows for when you’re together, sometimes dodging spoilers for weeks just so you can enjoy it properly with Mason.

The moment you sit down on the couch, Mason pulls you into his arms for the first real cuddle you’ve had in weeks. You very contently lean into him, resting your head on his chest and humming in delight as Mason slides his hand under your hoodie and begins to gently stroke your lower back. It’s not with the intention of anything sexual, though you’re sure that will come later, it’s just an innate need to be as close to you as possible.

It’s the most relaxed you’ve felt since he left your flat in London three weeks ago, your body and mind decompressing with every moment spent in his arms.

A few hours pass, and you can feel yourself growing tired, but you’re enjoying Mason’s commentary on the Alpine rivalry far too much to interrupt and suggest you go to bed. Your yawns are betraying you, though, and Mason begins to gently run his hand through your hair.

“You ready for bed, sweetheart?” he asks softly, kissing your forehead.

“It’s so early,” you murmur as you glance at the time on your phone, barely past 9PM, yet you can’t contain another small yawn which makes Mason chuckle. “Sorry, I guess I’m tired out from the week.”

“No worries, we have the whole weekend,” Mason smiles. “Honestly, I’m a bit worn out too. Wanna go upstairs and I’ll get us some water?”

You nod as he stands and helps you to your feet, pressing one more gentle kiss to your forehead before heading into the kitchen. You make your way up the stairs to his bedroom and head into his ensuite bathroom.

It occurs to you as you’re flicking the light on that you forgot to grab your toiletry bag from your suitcase in his room, and you’re just about to turn back for it when something catches your eye. On one of the shelves above the toilet, there’s an array of products that wasn’t here last time you visited. More specifically, there’s a version of just about every hair and skincare product you use on a regular basis, and you really doubt that Mason has taken up doing hair treatments or using Drunk Elephant serums.

Maybe it shouldn’t mean as much to you as it does - he’s always been thoughtful, and you know the expense of buying all this is nothing to him - but for some reason, the simple gesture nearly brings you to tears.

Mason appears in the doorway a moment later, smiling softly at you.

“You okay, love?”

“When did you buy all this stuff?” you ask, gesturing to the shelf.

“Oh, uh, a couple days after the last time I came to London,” Mason says casually. “I took pictures of everything in your bathroom to make sure I got the right stuff, I just wanted to make it easier for you when you visit.”

As you look into his soft, sincere gaze, your love for him feels more overwhelming than ever.

Which means your guilt does, too.

“Mase, I’m so sorry I haven’t been up to visit more lately,” you say, your voice unsteady. “I know you’ve been struggling, and I know you’ve been keeping a lot of it from me because I’m busy with uni, but you’re my priority and I should’ve-“

“Hey,” Mason says gently, interrupting you with a hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “Don’t ever apologize for focusing on your studies. I know how hard you’ve been working, and I’m so proud of you. You don’t need to worry about me, I’m gonna be fine.”

“It’s not fine,” you shake your head, tears now streaming down your face. “You’ve always been there for me, and now you’re in a new city and a new club and you’ve been dealing with injuries and I’m all the way across the country.”

“Y/N, we knew this would be hard, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t,” Mason says, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. “But it’s not your fault I moved clubs while you still had a degree to finish, or that I’ve had a tough season. Some things are out of our control.”

You know he’s right, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Hearing his sad, defeated voice on the phone after a disappointing medical assessment or bad game and not being able to hold him has been one of the hardest things you’ve ever done.

“I just worry about you being here all alone,” you say quietly. “I know you have your teammates and you spend a lot of time with Luke, but in London you had me and all your friends and your family was closer and - I just hate that I’m not with you.”

“You’re here right now,” Mason says, pressing his forehead to yours for a moment. “You dropped everything to come see me today, babe. You have no idea how much that meant.”

“I would do it every weekend if I could.”

“I know,” he says with a sad smile. “And I would leave all of this and spend my time helping you study and supporting you if I could, but this is our reality for a little while longer, angel.”

You sigh, nodding in agreement and staring into his big brown eyes that bring you so much comfort.

“I’ve just missed you so much,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a tight hug.

His own arms circle your waist and tug you impossibly closer, his nose buried in your hair so he can breathe you in.

“I know, baby, I’ve missed you too,” he exhales. “So, so much.”

You hold him for a while longer, cherishing every brush of his hand against your back and every kiss he presses to your temple. You want to memorize the feeling of his touch, so when you’re back in your bed in London a few days from now you can close your eyes and try to imagine you’re still in his arms.

After a few minutes, you break apart to finish preparing for bed. You brush your teeth together then go through your skincare routine while Mason watches fondly, letting you put some moisturizer on him when you’re done with it. Then he strips down to just his boxers, teasing you lovingly when you obviously check him out, and passes you a comfy t-shirt from his drawer to change into. You make a mental note to fill up your suitcase with a few of his hoodies before you leave - the ones you have at home no longer smell like him.

You climb into the bed together, noticing that the side you usually sleep on has all of its pillows in place and that the nightstand is almost empty except for the glass of water he set down for you. Like he’s still been leaving that space for you even when you’re not there to fill it.

“C’mere,” Mason says immediately, tugging you into his chest.

You relax against him, laying your head over his heartbeat and tracing his tattoos with your finger.

“Will you tell me how you’ve really been feeling lately?” you ask in a gentle voice. He immediately tenses, and you know he still doesn’t want to discuss it, but you’re not leaving Manchester without talking to him about this. “I saw the look on your face when I asked about the game tomorrow, babe. Please just talk to me.”

“I don’t want to burden you with all this,” Mason says, refusing to meet your gaze. “I know how busy you are-“

“I told you, you’re my priority, Mase,” you insist. “And it’s actually more concerning when I don’t know what’s going on with you. If you talk to me, then maybe I can help.”

Mason sighs and moves into a more upright position, still holding your hand and playing with your fingers as a way of grounding himself as he gathers his thoughts.

“I just never thought it would be like this, you know?” he mutters. “I thought that coming here would solve everything I was going through at Chelsea, but in a lot of ways it’s been even harder.”

You nod for him to continue, gently squeezing his hand.

“I thought when all the contract stuff was resolved and I was at a new club everything would be fine, but then it’s just been constant injuries and trying to adjust to a whole new life without actually being able to do the thing I love most,” he goes on, making your heart splinter even more. “Fifty-five million pounds and I don’t have a single goal to show for it.”

“You can’t help that you’ve been injured, baby,” you say softly, though you know he already knows that. “If you were in top form, you’d be scoring goals all over the place. I know it.”

He smiles slightly, always grateful for your neverending confidence in him. You’ve been his biggest fan from the moment you met, cheering him on through every high and low of his career.

“Maybe, but I haven’t had the chance to try,” he mutters. “I’m just stuck here, being useless to the club and hours away from you. I basically upended our lives just to end up not playing for months.”

“Mase, if I’m not allowed to feel guilty for us being apart, neither are you,” you say firmly. “Coming to United was the right decision. It may not feel like it now, but I promise it will in the long run. And if not, we’ll find a new place for you to show everyone how amazing of a footballer you are. Even if it’s in a different city or another country, we’ll figure it out.”

“Babe, I feel bad enough that you’re moving away from London to be here next year, I’m not gonna ask you to move again,” Mason says, still fiddling with your fingers. “I have to make it work here.”

“And I’m sure you will as soon as you’re better,” you tell him, bringing your joined hands to your lips. “But if it ends up not being a good fit, I will happily follow you anywhere you want to go.”

“Even the States?” Mason jokes, making you roll your eyes and poke him the ribs. “It would be cool to play with Messi.”

“You are not going to the MLS any time soon,” you reprimand him. “But yes, I would go to Florida for you, babe. That is how much I love you.”

Mason laughs, moving your joined hands so it’s his turn to lay kisses on your knuckles.

“Wouldn’t be so bad. The weather’s good, and we could hang out with the Beckhams,” he says, smiling against your skin. “We could take our kids to the beach-“

“Oh, our kids, huh?” you remark, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, by the time I’m actually ready to play in the MLS…”

“Alright, we’ll move to Florida with our hypothetical children in ten years,” you say decisively. “Then you can retire and stay home with them while I work.”

“I could take them to Disney World every day,” Mason sighs happily. “Oh, and the Harry Potter thing! Our kids would love that.”

As much as you’re both joking, the thought of a time in the future when you’re settled with a family and not having to deal with all the separation and uncertainty makes your heart feel warm and fuzzy. You can’t wait to have a family with him someday.

“In all seriousness, babe, you’ve already accomplished so much in your career and I know you’re going to do so many more amazing things,” you tell him, reaching out to cup his cheek. “And even more importantly, you are such an incredible person off the pitch.“

Mason blushes, leaning into your palm and holding it to his face so you don’t withdraw your touch. You know he struggles to take compliments sometimes, but you also know that this is something he needs to hear.

“Which is why I refuse to listen to you call yourself useless when you do so much for your family, the community, for me - you make everything better, Mase,” you say softly. “That’s why are so loved. It’s why I fell in love with you, not because of your job.”

He takes a moment to soak up what you’re saying, still holding your hand to his face and pressing a few kisses to your palm.

“You mean you’re not in it for the money?” he says after a minute, eliciting an eye roll from you.

“It’s mostly for the money, but the abs don’t hurt either,” you tease, poking his stomach and making him laugh out loud for the first time in as long as you can remember.

Mason pulls you into his arms again, leaning back and tucking you into his chest so your nose is pressed to his neck. You give him another tight squeeze, unable to get enough of his cuddles.

“Thank you so much, baby,” he mumbles into your hair as he slowly rubs his hand over your back. “For coming and for making me talk about this stuff. You always know exactly what I need.”

“Of course, my love,” you murmur. “Just promise me you’ll keep talking to me, okay? I don’t care how busy I am, I want to know what’s going on with you.”

“I promise,” Mason swears, squeezing your hand that rests over his heart. “And the same goes for you. I know how stressful this term has been, but I’m always here even if I can’t physically be there to help.”

“I know you are,” you smile. “And I know you’re the reason Ben or Woody brought me dinner or care packages before every midterm. They wouldn’t admit it, but I suspected they were under orders to check in on me.”

Mason chuckles. “Yeah, well, gotta send in the subs when I can’t do it myself.”

You hug him even tighter, throwing a leg over his and letting him shift you back into a more comfortable position for sleep. You’re yawning again, the exhaustion finally catching up to you now that the worry gnawing at your mind over Mason has been relieved.

“So, for tomorrow,” you say, your voice lower now that you’re both getting sleepy. “I think we should go to the game with Luke and Anouska, she already texted me and asked us to come over for dinner afterward. That way you and Luke can show your faces at Old Trafford and we can spend some time with them and the kids. Then, you and I can come back home and have a bit of a romantic night in.”

Mason doesn’t respond right away, and you give him a moment before you look up at him to see if something’s wrong. But when you do, you see only an adoring gaze and gentle smile on his face.

“Is that plan good with you?” you ask, “we don’t have to do any of it, I just thought-“

“No, no, it sounds perfect,” Mason cuts you off. “You’re perfect. I was just thinking about how much I love you.”

Your heart melts even more for him, if that’s possible, and you can’t resist leaning in to press another lingering kiss to his lips.

“I love you too,” you say, pressing a few more kisses to his cheeks and nose for good measure. “Now, let’s get a good night’s sleep so I can show you how much I love you in the morning, yeah?”

Mason nods with childlike enthusiasm, making you giggle again as you lay your head back on his chest.

You can’t wait for the time to come that all of your nights end like this, curled up next to the love of your life, but for now, you’re grateful for this one.

No matter how many miles are between you, your heart is always gonna be wherever Mason is. He’s your home, whether you’re on opposite ends of the globe or in the same bed.

You sleep better than you have in months.

please leave me a comment if you enjoyed this or send me an ask just to chat, love hearing from all of you xx

#mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount imagine #mason mount #manchester united imagine #my fics

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mendeshoney · 9 months

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take me back to eden (part 1/2)

A/N: well I had an idea about andrei and as per usual @pyotrkochetkov @smileysvech bullied supported me until it was finished. as you can see, this story is going to be posted in two parts, so keep your eyes peeled! title is from “take me back to eden” by sleep token

Summary: Andrei’s retired, Assistant GM of the Carolina Hurricanes, and a little lonely, so he decides to be a little like Edward Lewis.

Pairing: andrei svechnikov x f!reader

Part 1 Word Count: 22,144

Warnings: nine year age gap, older man x younger woman, basically “pretty woman” with andrei, love at first sight(Ish), he falls first, she falls too, he falls harder, sugar daddy vibes, angst, fluff, smut, penetration, finish inside, unprotected sex

September

The Premiere Suite at The Mark Hotel.

So…this was it.

Immediately after swiping the key card and letting himself into the suite, he goes about unpacking. Quickly, he puts his belongings away in the bedroom of the suite, before moving back into the living area, heart pounding with every step.

He’d bought a bouquet of red roses along with a crimson red vase, and he stores the vase in a cabinet in the little kitchen first. He moves further into the room, setting the roses on the coffee table before grabbing the ice bucket and heading down the hall to fill it. When he gets back, he places a bottle of champagne in the ice bucket, and rests it beside the roses, accompanying it by placing two champagne glasses down next to the bucket.

He heads back into his room, pulling out the little blue box from Tiffany’s in his leather duffle bag, tucking the box into the pockets of his pants, then heads back into the living area, examining the space.

This was enough, right?

Enough to prove that either he wasn’t new to this (which he was) or that he was capable of being a gentleman (jury’s still out), he wasn’t sure.

He’d never done this before, never had to, never needed to, and never thought to.

At thirty two, officially retired from hockey and now serving as Assistant General Manager of the Carolina Hurricanes, Andrei had his fair share of ex girlfriends, previous one night stands, former friends with benefits, and the like in his youth. He’d thought he’d been close to true love once before, but that crashed and burned in flames before he even realized he was standing in the ashes of the aftermath.

Too focused, he’d been told. He was too focused on hockey, on this sport, and it wasn’t enough, so she left. And now, he couldn’t exactly deny that she had been wrong.

Lately, he was far too busy and much less interested in anything other than working to even consider the possibility of anything more. Working for the team that had given him the chance to live out his childhood dreams was where his heart, mind, body, and soul were focused, and he poured his all into it every day.

But sometimes, some days, he could admit to himself that as much as he liked being alone, he did feel lonely in the quiet corners of his office and in the solitude of his bedroom.

“You need a Pretty Woman,” his brother had told him almost a month ago.

“A what?” He remembers saying, balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear as he typed out an email.

“You know the movie? With Julia Roberts?” Evgeny said, as if that was supposed to mean something to Andrei. “The one mom used to watch all of the time.”

“The prostitution one?” He said, vaguely recalling it now. He mainly remembers trying to make as much noise as possible with Evgeny so his mother would relent and allow them to change the channel to watch cartoons or hockey.

“Da,” his brother had said, “It could be discreet, maybe a little more your pace.”

Andrei had all but rolled his eyes and shot it down, calling his brother an idiot before confirming that he’d be home for the holidays and hanging up.

Then two days later, he was out to dinner with a few of the players on the roster during a preseason dinner, and overheard a couple of veteran players on the team chatting with a newer player about helping him find a date to their eventual Canes Bash, the renamed organizational casino night.

“It’s worth a shot,” one of the veterans, Mason, had said. “You said you’re out of options, that’s an option.”

The newcomer, Eli, looked extremely skeptical. “But isn’t that like…illegal? It’s basically prostitution.”

The veteran players had shushed him, leaning in closer and lowering their voices even though Andrei could still hear them.

Eli was sitting to his immediate right, for fuck’s sake.

“It’s an escort service.” The other veteran, Olly said from his spot across from Eli. “They’re based out of Manhattan but have employees all over the country. They serve high profiled clients and work with the utmost scrutiny. You have to submit pay stubs to even prove you can afford one of their employees and both parties are required to sign an NDA.”

“Why does it sound like you’ve ripped that right from their website?” The rookie questioned, skepticism still present in his tone.

“Because maybe we’ve used it once or twice,” Mason shrugged.

“You have?” Eli asked, and Andrei could tell he was starting to slowly lean into the idea.

“It’s simple,” Olly assured him. “When you register yourself on the website, you fill out an application and basically create an account with them. You have to sign the NDA before your account can be official. Then you submit your pay stubs and a copy of your ID or passport. If those clear, then they do a thorough background check on you, more thorough than a government job, even, and if you pass the background check, they send you a questionnaire to fill out that helps them understand what you’re looking for, but it also lets them know if they’re the service you’re looking for, or if you should take your interests elsewhere.”

“Yeah,” Mason chimed in. “If they believe they can help you, they ask for your availability where you’d like to meet, and then once you pick a city, day, and time, they set up a meeting place, all expenses paid by the service. It’s like a consultation.”

“What about the girl?” Eli asked. “Do I get to pick her?”

“They select them for you based on your questionnaire answers.” Mason said, “But they’ve never set us up with a bad pick.”

“Yeah,” Olly chimed in, smirking. “Remember the blonde bombshell I brought to the team Christmas party last year?”

Eli’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “She was an escort?!”

Olly and Mason shushed Eli once more, though no one else at the dinner table seemed to have been paying any attention to them.

Hockey players have certainly heard, and discussed, far weirder and far worse.

“Did you just watch ‘Pretty Woman,’?” Andrei had teased, and laughed at the stricken expressions on Mason, Olly, and Eli’s faces.

“Uh yeah,” Mason had said nervously. “It’s a classic.”

Andrei nodded, “It is, it’s a great movie.” Then turned his body as if he was tuning into the conversation the head office was having to his left.

To be fair, he should technically be involved in this conversation anyway, since it is his job, but instead, for some reason, he keeps an ear trained on the rest of what the boys to his right are saying.

“Look, do you wanna go for it or not?” Mason asked, “If you do, I can send you a referral link, or you can just use my name when you apply. It speeds up the time between application and your first meeting.”

Eli made a hesitant noise. “I don’t know. What if I don’t like the girl they picked? I can’t bring a weirdo to the Canes Bash.”

“That’s what the initial meeting is for.” Olly explained. “The consultation, remember? First visit is free, and then the only payments you have to worry about are for bookings once you get to the first date and beyond. If you like the girl, you tell her what you need her for, and if she agrees to work with you, you book everything moving forward through the website. That way you’re not spending money up front.”

“It’s no strings attached before you even solidify anything.” Mason said, then nudged Eli. “So what do you think? Are you in or what?”

There was a pause, and Andrei sensed Eli’s lingering hesitation, but still, the rookie persisted and said, “Yeah, why not? Fuck it. I’ll do it. What’s this thing called again?”

“Daughters of Aphrodite,” Olly said with a dreamy air to his tone. “Unofficially, that is. Aptly named, but it would obviously raise some eyebrows. So officially, their business name is Eden.”

That night, after Andrei went home, he found himself opening up his laptop as he lounged in bed, looking up “Daughters of Aphrodite” online. He’d found nothing but tellings and retellings of the goddess of love, so he took a chance and searched up “Eden” instead.

Sure enough, there it was. He hesitated all of two seconds before clicking into the website, and didn’t think twice about filling out the application. True to Mason and Olly’s word, he had to sign an NDA before his account could be created, and submit a copy of six months worth of paystubs, his identification, fill out paperwork to commit to and then actually go for STD testing, and when they asked if he’d been referred to the service by anyone to expedite his application process, he listed Olly’s name, figuring Mason probably would’ve lent his referral to Eli instead.

And now, three weeks later, here he was.

In Manhattan, at one of the most expensive hotels in the city, moving into a suite for the weekend.

About to have a consultation…with an escort.

If the consultation went well, his plan was to take this person to a nice dinner, and maybe go out for drinks afterward. Eden had footed the bill and booked the suite for the weekend in case they decided on other activities, but Andrei wasn’t going to hold his breath.

He still wasn’t sure if he was going to stick around, let alone if this other person would be interested.

As he looked around at his little set up, part of him felt like maybe this was too much, but he couldn’t just show up here with nothing. They had his pay stubs, knew his income, knew he was a high profile client using their services for a reason.

Sugar daddy.

That was one of the things on his questionnaire, asking if that’s what he was looking to be.

He hadn’t said yes, but surely it wouldn’t be inappropriate to provide his incoming date with…well, some sugar.

Besides, it was just roses, champagne, and the diamond tennis bracelet from Tiffany’s sitting in his pocket.

Before he could start pacing, Andrei removed his tie and his blazer, resting it over the back of the chair at the desk in the room before loosening the top few buttons on his dress shirt, then unbuttoning and rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. He raided the mini bar, pouring himself a shot of vodka, downing it, then pouring another larger serving, one he could sip at to calm his nerves.

He sat in the lounge chair, scrolling through his email to re-read the instructions one more time.

“...after checking into your hotel and arriving at your room, feel free to take your time settling in and getting comfortable. Once you’re ready, please text the code “5683” to the following number, and we will notify your date for the evening that you’re ready for them. They should arrive no later than twenty minutes after you send the directed code.”

Andrei felt a sweat start to break out on his back.

He texted the code not long after he finished unpacking, which was about ten minutes ago.

She could get here at any time, and it wasn’t until Andrei realized that, that he began to panic a little.

He had no idea what this woman would look like, no idea how old she was. He said he wouldn’t agree to anything more than a couple years older than him, and nothing more than ten years younger than him, so he knew she was somewhere in that range.

But what if she wasn’t his type? What if he wasn’t her type? Even if he was a client, Eden made it clear that the girls were in control, that they had the agency, so what if she decided to break it off the second she saw his face? What if there was no chemistry? What if -

A soft pattern of three knocks on the door broke him from his thoughts, and he cursed to himself.

She’s here.

Resting his glass on the side table near his chair, he gets up, strolling to the door and checking his appearance in the mirror before answering.

Not his best, but not his worst.

It’s a consult. He reminds himself. Doesn’t have to be anything more.

He takes a deep breath, flipping the deadbolt and twisting the handle, breath caught in his lungs as he opens the door and -

And…

Fuck.

Oh fuck.

This…this is…

It has to be a joke.

There’s no way a woman this beautiful, a woman this perfect, is working for a service like this.

Now he understood why Olly got so dreamy when he said the service was called “Daughters of Aphrodite.”

Because if this woman were anything other than a demi-god, daughter to the most beautiful creature in the world, he would surely think he was living in an alternate reality.

Fuck, the woman in front of him could be Aphrodite for all he cared.

God damn, ona krasivaya. She is beautiful.

She should be on a throne somewhere, modeling on a beach, walking a runway, hell, in a house baking cookies for her husband and children because…because…

This woman should be someone’s wife. Someone’s girlfriend. Someone’s partner.

Not an escort here in a ritzy hotel suite with him.

“Um…hi. Andrei, right?”

He blinks.

God and her voice.

Your voice.

You.

Your…everything.

No, it’s you’re, definitely you’re, because you are everything.

“Shit,” Andrei hears you curse under your breath. “Um, ty Andrei Svechnikov? Vy govorite po-angliyski?”

He blinks again, like an idiot, because wow he was not expecting that, and now he’s harder than a rock in his dress pants. Granted, your pronunciation isn’t the best, but it’s damn near perfect, and he crumbles.

“Yeah,” he hears himself say, mentally patting himself on the back for not letting his voice crack, “It’s me. I’m Andrei.”

You smile softly at him and he feels like his heart just jumps right out of his chest and lands at your feet, screaming “take me love me accept me please.”

“Hi,” you say. “It’s nice to meet you. Is now still a good time?”

He nods, too dumbstruck to say anything else. His whole body buzzes in response the more you speak to him, and he swears any second now a flying baby in a diaper is going to swoop in and stab him in the butt.

“Yeah,” he says after a second. “Now is still good.”

“Oh okay,” you say, nodding slightly. Then, when he doesn’t move, a soft laugh leaves your lips, a laugh that he swears sounds like little bells, and you tilt your head to the side. “May I come in?”

Idiot.

He laughs too, hoping it doesn’t sound too nervous, and nods, stepping to the side. “Yes yes, I’m sorry, please come in.”

You cross the threshold, passing by him and he gets a whiff of your perfume, the breeze left in your wake chilling him to the bone.

“Almaznyy,” he hears himself whisper, watching you wander further into the suite.

Diamond.

A living and breathing diamond.

He swears a string of curses to himself as he shuts the door behind him and flips the deadbolt, then thinks better of it and flips it back. No one else but him has the key to this room, and he doesn’t want you to think by flipping the deadbolt that you’re trapped here.

Although, he wouldn’t mind if you trapped him in here.

He follows after you, finds you staring at a photograph blown onto canvas on the wall just shy of the coffee table.

The coffee table currently holding your roses.

Shit.

He rushes to the table, grabbing the bouquet and turning towards you. He catches the way your eyes roam over the canvas, over the flowers and shadows, and he smiles a little.

“Interested in art?”

You shrug absently with a hum, your eyes still locked on the photograph, a fond and knowing look on your face. “Somewhat. My mom used to paint, and my brother got me into art as well.” Your body turns toward him first, followed by your head as you say “I’m not quite as good, but I dr- oh.”

You pause, smiling widely at the roses in his hand, and Andrei takes a chance, stepping closer and eliminating some of the distance between you two. “These are for you,” he says, “As a thank you.”

“They’re beautiful,” you say with an awestruck smile, taking them and cradling the bouquet in your arms. “Thank you.”

This image of you would be seared into his brain for the rest of his life, he swears.

“I have a vase for you to put them in, if you’d like.” He offers.

“How considerate,” you say. It sounds teasing, but the smile on your face is sincere. He holds out his hand, nearly regretting it when you blink at it for a second, before your hand lands in his and -

The electric bolt that runs up his arm when he finally touches you can’t be a coincidence.

Especially not when he looks at you, wondering if you felt it too, and judging by the shy look that suddenly crosses your features, you definitely did.

Not only that, but fucking hell your skin is soft.

So soft, better than silk or velvet.

He has to contain his excitement when he laces your fingers together, and you give him a reassuring squeeze as he leads you to the kitchen. He pulls the vase out of the cabinet and starts to fill it with a little water at the sink while you lay the roses down, gently removing the twine and then the brown packaging from around it.

Andrei finds himself quickly reaching for your hands after putting the vase down on the counter, not wanting you to prick yourself on any thorns.

“Let me please, almaznyy,” he says. You smile, eyebrow raised in confusion at what he’s called you - and god if he was going to survive this night he’d have to work to not make you do that as often - but you don’t move at all when he comes up behind you, keeping an inch between your bodies, arms on either side as he works the roses apart, inspecting the stems for thorns.

He didn’t pay anything astronomical for them, but they were a rare type of crimson red rose, and he paid enough to hope that they didn’t have thorns on them.

Thankfully, they didn’t. When he raises his hand to lift a couple into the vase, yours move to grab a couple of more. Together, the both of you arrange the two dozen roses into the vase, and almost naturally, you let out a happy little sigh as you relax backward, body gently pressing against his.

It’s a ghost of a touch, but he can tell you fit perfectly against one another.

“They really are beautiful,” you say, then turn your head to look up at him, lips curving into another brilliant smile. “Spasibo.”

His heart spasms.

That was five.

Five smiles in the span of about five minutes.

He was prouder of that than he was any record he set during his career.

With a smile of his own, he takes a step back, watching you turn and lean against the counter a little, and holds out his hand once more. This time you take it without a second thought, and follow him as he leads you over to the couch.

You both sit next to one another, you sitting a little sideways to face him, and he gestures to the champagne. “Would you like some?”

“Sure,” you say, and now all Andrei wants to do - on top of making you smile - is keep you talking.

He needs to hear more of that pretty voice like it’s the last he’ll ever hear on this earth.

As he expertly pops the top and begins to pour a glass, he asks “How old are you?”

It’s a jump from the first question - or questions - he wanted to ask, the main one being “What is your name?” which he was told explicitly in his instructions email that he was not allowed to ask.

The Daughters of Aphrodite could only offer their names to the clients if they decided that they wanted to - or if their clients had earned it - and the clients could not ask under any circumstances. It was part of the point that the women held the agency here.

His other questions fell along the lines of “Are you married?” and “If you’re not married, are you available for a summer wedding next June?” Both of which he also did not ask.

He’d get the answer to all three eventually…he hoped.

“I’m twenty three,” you respond, accepting the flute of champagne from him. “My birthday was a couple of days ago.”

His heart hammers in his chest.

Nine years.

She’s nine years younger than you, his brain screams.

Eden sure cut it close with this one.

“Happy belated birthday,” Andrei says, turning a little in his seat to face you. As he does, the corner of the jewelry box in his pocket pokes his thigh. He reaches into it without a second thought, relieved when he brings it out and sees that the little white bow is still in excellent condition as he holds it out to you.

“I didn’t know it was your birthday, obviously,” he begins, “But I saw this and wanted to buy it for you, so maybe it was meant to be.”

He winces internally at his choice of words, but then a bashful smile breaks out on your face, and you place your champagne flute down on the coffee table, taking the gift with gentle fingers.

Six smiles!

Hell yes.

You pause before pulling the bow, looking up at Andrei with a little furrow in your brow.

His heart kicks in his chest, demanding to be let out, demanding to comfort you and ease whatever just made you pull that face. “What is it?”

“This is just awfully nice of you, and I didn’t get you anything.”

Two things run through his mind in that second and he’s blurting them both out before he can stop himself or think of any consequences. “I wanted to, you deserve it. And I don’t need anything in return.” then “Your other clients don’t get you anything?”

You fucking idiot. He curses himself. He didn’t even think of the fact that you’ve probably had other clients, that you’ve been around other men, and his blood starts to simmer, this unexpected feeling of jealousy twisting his stomach uncomfortably.

But you don’t even blink, just shrug your pretty shoulders and say “Not really, no. Well, not at first maybe, not at the consultation.”

Okay.

He was not going to think about the fact that other men had gotten to have a consultation with you or that some had also made it past the consultation with you. He was not going to picture a beautiful being like you entertaining the likes of fuckers like Mason, or Olly, or Eli.

God.

What if you’d been with them? What if you knew Mason or Olly? What if Eli had already applied and maybe even gotten a consultation before Andrei could have? What if you had a consultation scheduled with Eli next? What if -

“And they usually don’t get me roses,” you add softly, fingers still brushing against the bow.

“Then they’re idiots.” He deadpans.

You lift your head up at that, blinking at him, and he worries he may have upset you, but then you laugh, a little loud, melodic and sudden, and his heart soars.

“Open it,” he says gently, gesturing to the box with his chin.

Your fingers finally pull the bow off and gently lift the lid, removing the carefully folded tissue paper to reveal the tennis bracelet nestled inside.

It’s a platinum bracelet, designed to resemble vines curling around the wrist when fastened. Within the leaves on the vine are round brilliant and marquise diamonds, though he doesn’t think they can hold a candle to you.

His actual diamond.

Almaznyy.

Almost as if the marquise diamonds can hear him, they twinkle a little in the light in protest at him when you manage to lift the bracelet from its little cushion.

He thought it was fitting - vines, Eden, garden of Eden.

Oh god, now he thought it was stupid.

Why would he think getting you a bracelet reminding you of your employment was a good idea?

“Oh, Andrei,” you coo.

And god if he doesn’t fall in love with you right then just based on the way you say his fucking name.

“Do you like it?” He asks.

You nod emphatically, looking up at him. You look a little dazed, the disbelief present in your eyes. “I love it, it’s beautiful. Would you help me put it on?”

“Of course, almaznyy,” he murmurs, reaching forward to take the jewelry from your hand. You hold your wrist out, and with nimble fingers he secures the bracelet to your wrist. He indulges himself a little by letting his fingers graze along the skin, before grabbing your hand again, lacing your fingers together and resting them on the couch cushion between you.

“It looks beautiful on you,” he says truthfully, eyeing the way the bracelet sits on your wrist, how it looks so perfect next to his rolex, and how they punctuate your joined hands.

“It fits like a glove.” You say, voice full of wonder. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it in my life.”

The boost to his ego is instantaneous and he can’t help the smirk that crosses his lips before he smothers it with a smile. “I’m glad you like it.”

You smile, seven, eyes looking him over for a second. “Is that what you need me for? Someone to shower with roses and pretty jewelry?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice, and Andrei feels himself go red.

For a second he managed to forget about the circumstances surrounding your presence. For a second, he managed to convince himself this was your third date. For a second, he managed to convince himself you already belonged to him.

Not in a nefarious way. People never belonged to other people, he always believed that.

But god dammit if he didn’t already belong to you.

“I um,” he fumbles, doesn’t really know what to say.

You scoot closer, unlacing your fingers and resting your hand on his arm in a comforting gesture. “It’s okay, Andrei. I��m here for a reason, aren’t I? I just want to help.”

Well fuck.

Now he doesn’t want to tell you. How can he possibly tell you he overheard players on a team he’s supposed to be helping to manage talk about your company? And how could he say that he figured it would be a good quick fix to ease the loneliness he felt some days?

Especially on the days when he realized most of his friends and former teammates were either getting married, already married, some with kids, and he still felt like he was lost in the ocean, treading water for some unknown reason, and that as much as he wanted that all for himself, he just didn’t have the time?

“If it helps,” you offer, “I can kind of guess.”

Andrei blinks. “You can?”

You nod, suddenly growing a little shy as you admit “I kind of Googled you?”

He laughs then, the small tension that had built in the room starting to break. “Oh? Find anything interesting?”

You smirk, dragging your hand down his arm and lacing your fingers back together. “I did. Admittedly I don’t do it with all of my clients, but your name sounded familiar, so I looked you up.”

“And?” He teases, leaning in a little. “Do I live up to Google’s expectations?”

You snort a little - so fucking cute - and a small smile graces your lips again as you try to find the right words to say.

Eight. Fuck yeah.

“You’re a busy man,” you begin, looking down at your joined hands. “You’ve got a lot on your plate. You might not be the general manager, but you’re someone that your organization trusts, and that puts you in a precarious position. Because you can speak to and for the team, and be the middleman between them and your administration in a way that hasn’t been there for them before. The team is your life, you spent your whole career there, so it’s understandable, but that doesn’t leave you much room for anything else. That must be pretty lonely for you.”

Andrei’s dazed, and a little fucking pissed that the most he’s heard you talk this evening is because you’re talking about him, and he makes a mental note with himself to change that as soon as possible.

“You need company.” You finish, rubbing your thumb in comforting circles on the back of his hand, and Andrei feels the anxiety begin to seep out of his body. “I’m happy to give that to you, Andrei. Whatever that may look like.”

His eyes coast up to your face, skepticism in his gut, but your face is completely sincere, not a sliver of doubt or humor. He swallows, nodding. Instead of confirming your suspicions, he turns your hands around, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand now. “And you? What do you need?”

You blink at him. “Me?”

He nods again, “Yeah you, almaznyy. What made you want to do this?”

“Eden?” You clarify, and Andrei nods again, squeezing your hand gently. “Well, as you can probably imagine, it’s good money. It helped put me through college, since I was putting myself through school. I actually stopped once I graduated. I put most of what I earned into savings, and thought that would be enough to live a normal life while I worked a normal job. And I had that for a few months. But then I…” your voice trails off and your brow furrows again, like you’re trying to figure out how much to say.

You can tell me everything. He wants to tell you. I won’t judge, I just want to know.

“I decided I wanted something different,” you finally say. “Something more, so I came back to Eden. They welcomed me back, and now they’re helping me make sure I get what I want.”

“What is it that you want?” He asks.

You shrug. “What does anyone want these days?”

It’s cryptic, and Andrei doesn’t pry any further, no matter how badly he may want to. Instead, he squeezes your hand and asks “Well, what do you need from me?”

You raise a brow, surprised by his question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, how can I help you? To get your something different?”

You smile a little, but it’s not like the others, so he doesn’t add it to the count. This one is more…considering. Like you’re assessing if the sincerity in his voice is actually there, or if he’s just playing his part. “You already are,” you eventually say.

He watches as your eyes continue to examine his face, looking for…well, he doesn’t know exactly. But he’s content to sit there and let you do whatever you want. As far as he’s concerned, you can do whatever you want. And he also uses the opportunity to etch you into his memory, every inch of you, just in case.

“But this is for me,” he says after a moment.

“I know,” you murmur with a smile before casting your eyes down to your joined hands. “And it helps.”

Nine.

He swallows. “Are you lonely too?”

You purse your lips, shrugging. “Isn’t everyone?”

Cryptic again, but then you’re looking up at him, and there’s this…it sounds cliché, but there’s this twinkle in your eye, and he feels his pulse skyrocket in his veins.

“Why the gifts, Andrei?”

He feels his heart sigh dreamily when you say his name. “What?”

You gesture down to the bracelet on your wrist with your eyes, before flicking them back up to his face. “The bracelet, the roses. I love them, don’t get me wrong. But…why?”

Andrei shrugs. “It felt…” he searches for the right words. “Appropriate. I don’t know.”

There’s a look of consideration on your face. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

He shakes his head, suddenly…shy. He’s immediately transported back to his first year as a rookie, how uncertain everything seemed, and how lost he felt more often than not. He remembers stumbling through English, feeling awkward trying to get to know his teammates and make friends, to get people to like him.

He wants you to like him.

He knows in his gut he’s pretty much got a crush on you at this point, which is insane, considering you met…maybe twenty minutes ago? Thirty?

And he doesn’t really know how these things are supposed to go…at all. When he tells you as much, you giggle a little, squeezing his hand. “That’s okay, we can take this slow.”

He nods. “Slow is good.” Then, “How about dinner? Would you like to have dinner with me?”

A dazzling smile crosses your features before you say “I’d love to go to dinner with you,” and he beams.

Ten. Ten smiles and dinner. Hell yeah.

October

Andrei glances down at his phone, smiling at yet another picture of Luka, Evgeny’s newborn baby boy and his second child. He was born a few days ago, but given Andrei’s duties with the team, he couldn’t be there for Evgeny and Sara.

He’d sent presents of course, and his mother had taken the liberty of sending Andrei hundreds of photos so far, and Evgeny clearly felt comfortable following in their mother’s footsteps, sending Andrei at least twenty pictures a day.

Evgeny was just as bad when Mila, his two year old daughter, was born. Photos every day that eventually dwindled down to weekly, then monthly as she got older.

In the photo Evgeny had just sent, Luka’s chubby newborn body was swaddled in a blanket and donning the light yellow baby hat Andrei had sent them.

Andrei: Milyy i tolstyy

Cute and fat.

Evegeny sends back an angry face emoji.

Evgeny: Ne nazyvay moyego rebenka tolstym

Don’t call my baby fat

Evgeny: pridurok

Dickhead.

He chuckles to himself before pocketing his phone, casting his eyes back up.

He watches from the stands as the players skate down the ice, running through drills in preparation for the first home game of the season later this week. Right after that, they were immediately on the road, heading to play the Rangers over the weekend.

A weekend where he’d get to see you.

He grabs his coffee cup from the holder in front of him, taking a large sip as he catalogs every player, assessing for strengths, weaknesses, who needs help, who can work on what. He looks for the holes in their plays, looks for the ways they can improve, looks for anything and everything that the team needs.

“Skyler’s looking good,” Andrei notes. “Role of ‘Captain’ suits him.”

From beside him, sipping on his own coffee, Coach Brind’Amour nods. “Yeah, he’s enjoying it.”

Technically, he’s not Coach Brind’Amour anymore.

These days, he’s the General Manager, but Andrei’s known him too long and respects him too much to call him anything but ‘Coach.’

Skyler, Coach’s son, is about the same age as Andrei, but started with the Canes a few years into Andrei’s career. The two of them became quite close, but whereas Skyler’s career continued, Andrei’s had to stop.

There wasn’t anything he could do about it now.

“What are you seeing?” Coach asks him, gesturing to the ice.

Andrei smiles a little. “Probably the same thing you are.”

“They’re a good team, need a little more work.” Coach confirms.

Andrei hums a little. “They’ll be ready.”

They both eye the banners in the rafters.

2024 Stanley Cup Champions.

2027 Stanley Cup Champions.

2032 Stanley Cup Champions.

The last one makes Andrei feel a little bittersweet, and he tears his eyes away.

“They can do it again,” Andrei confirms. “We made sure the additions to the team would see to that, not prevent it.”

“Now you sound like me,” Coach teases.

Andrei laughs, and shrugs. “You were right most of the time.”

“Most?!” Coach cries, incredulous. He shoves Andrei playfully, and they share another laugh before directing their eyes back to the ice.

They watch the rest of practice relatively quietly, a few other people coming to sit with them now and again as practice goes on, talking to them about upcoming meetings, home opener preparations, player contracts, the list goes on.

Andrei contributes his opinion when he can and when asked, still getting used to his new role. A couple of times, Coach shouts something down the stands so the new head coach or the captain can hear, and even encourages - and manages to convince Andrei - to do it once as well, noting a spot that needs work with a couple of the defensive pairs.

After practice, he and Coach head into the locker rooms to talk to the new head coach and give the players some words of encouragement.

At one point, he notices Olly looking at him from out of the corner of his eye, and when Andrei spares a glance at him, Olly looks away, almost like he didn’t think he’d be caught.

Strange.

On the way out, Andrei tells Coach he’ll catch up in a second before he stops by the player’s stall. “Looking good out there, Oliver.”

Olly looks up, surprised to see him there. From next to him, Mason giggles, bending down to fiddle with the tape on his socks. “Thanks Svechy, I appreciate that.”

“You two feeling good about the home opener?” He asks, gesturing his chin to Mason and leaning against the wall next to the door.

“Yeah man,” Mason answers, eyes on his skates now. “Feeling great. You think we’re ready?”

“Did it last year,” he answers. “Looked great in pre-season. Who says hurricanes can’t strike twice?”

They both grin at that, and then Andrei nods at them, dismissing himself.

When he steps into the hallway, his phone buzzes with an email notification, and his heart nearly skyrockets out of his chest when he sees the subject line.

“Booking Confirmation Details - Eden Hospitality.”

He curses silently to himself, nearly jumping in the air when there’s a tap on his back.

It’s Coach, who laughs at Andrei’s red face, and Andrei quickly locks and pockets his phone.

“Sorry Svechy,” he says, “Didn’t mean to scare you. You coming to the meeting upstairs?”

“Yeah,” Andrei says, sighing a little in relief that it was just Coach Brind’Amour. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Another long, nearly painstaking hour later, Andrei’s finally back in his office.

It’s a cozy space, not as large as the General Manager’s office, or the coach’s office, but it’s decent enough. There’s many photos of his journey with the Canes along his wall, and pictures of his family on the wall closest to his desk. His desk is L-Shaped, and it allows him to face his office door, a couch along the wall, two chairs in front of his desk, and a shelf and mini stall for his gear in the corner.

Checking his schedule on the calendar on his computer, he’s instantly grateful to see he doesn’t have to do anything for another hour and a half, so he pulls out his phone and brings up his email, clicking into the confirmation from Eden.

“Thank you for choosing Eden Hospitality for your booking purposes!

Your reservation beginning this Saturday, October 17th at The Mark Hotel in the Premier Suite is confirmed. Please note that any and all reservation changes must be made within 48 hours of the arranged date. Proof of payment is attached to this email in a reviewable and downloadable PDF.

We also wanted to confirm we received your latest copy of blood testing for STDs, and thank you for your compliance with our booking policies. As a reminder, this will need to be done prior to every booking request to ensure booking can be completed. Failure to comply will result in termination of your account with Eden Hospitality. Attached is also a copy of your companion’s recent blood testing, for your reference.

Check in as per usual at the front desk, and feel free to either leave your bags with the front desk, or you can head on up to your room. Please feel free to text your companion to arrange a time and place to meet, should you wish to meet outside of The Mark Hotel.”

His heart catapults out of his chest when his phone buzzes in his hand with a new text message.

“Almaznyy,” the name reads, and a kilowatt smile crosses his features. He opens your text thread with one another, his smile growing impossibly large as his cheeks heat.

Almaznyy: You miss me that much, don’t you?

Andrei: Almost every second since I said goodbye to you last month

The dinner date had gone incredibly. Wonderfully. Stupendously.

(That last word was one Skyler had taught him.)

The chemistry the two of you shared was…literally off the charts. It felt cosmic, fated, almost, just so naturally right that Andrei drove himself paranoid the more he thought about it, because he wanted to know if you felt it too.

You had spent the night, but nothing intimate had happened other than the two of you holding hands as you laid on Andrei’s bed and talked for hours until you both fell asleep. When Andrei woke up, you were in the kitchen, freshly showered and changed and making breakfast on the stove, a fresh pot of coffee already brewed.

Eden had held your bags at the front desk for you as per consultation protocols, since the Daughters of Aphrodite weren’t required or expected to stay past the initial consultation if they’d made their decision or come to an agreement with their client, but if they chose to stay, their belongings weren’t far away.

The fact that you had chosen to stay made him happier than you’d ever know.

You didn’t unpack like he did, but your things were in a weekender bag in the corner of his bedroom, and though he didn’t want to admit it - mostly because he didn’t want to get ahead of himself - he quite liked seeing your toothbrush next to his on the bathroom counter.

Almaznyy: Well maybe I missed you a little bit as well

Andrei: Really?

Shit shit shit, he didn’t mean to press send on that. He didn’t want to unsend it either, but now that it was out there -

Almaznyy: Yes really, I had a wonderful time with you

You sent a heart emoji with that last message.

A heart.

Alright, now he was just outright blushing, and he folded his arms onto his desk before burying his head in them like a lovesick fool.

In fairness, he’d had a wonderful time too.

After eating the delicious breakfast you’d made, he took your hand across the kitchen island and offered to take you out to do whatever it was that you wanted. It felt appropriate, felt good, knowing he could do that for you.

You took him by surprise when you asked if you could go to the Bronx Zoo. He half expected something a little more…well, he wasn’t sure exactly, but the zoo hadn’t been it.

He complied, of course, and the two of you got dressed. You in jeans, a light sweater, and sneakers, and him in black jeans, a white long sleeved shirt, sneakers, and your new bracelet that you hadn’t taken off since he put it on. You both took an Uber there, and spent most of the morning and early afternoon wandering around, looking at every single animal exhibit, some of them even twice, and taking pictures along the way.

Andrei took more than a few…hundred…pictures of you on his phone. Most of them were candids, some videos of you looking at the different animals, making faces or cooing at them from the viewing windows, and others of you just…being around him.

(He locked about ninety five percent of the photos in a private album on his phone, just in case.)

After that, you took him to your favorite lunch spot on the Upper West Side, and then to your favorite book store in the city.

For dinner, he insisted on cooking for you, so you went to Whole Foods, giggling when he pushed you around on the cart as you grabbed all the necessary items for Beef Stroganoff.

You helped him while he cooked, though he would’ve been much happier if you had just sat on the stool, looking as pretty as you did, sipping your wine and letting him just…cater to you.

You praised him over the dish, in which he immediately texted his mother about afterward to thank her for insisting on teaching him at least that, to which she just replied “???”

That night, the two of you fell asleep talking again, your hands linked with one another under the sheets.

The next day, you played tourist. Checking out the Natural History Museum, the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, got lunch in Tribeca, and then went to the driving ranges at Chelsea Piers. You had dinner together at Prime Catch in Hell’s Kitchen, and spent the rest of the night talking again, until you both fell asleep, this time, with you in his arms.

So yeah…it was pretty wonderful. It didn’t even matter that he didn’t get the chance to kiss you, he just had so much fun being with you, being around you, that he didn’t care about what happened next, or what didn’t happen.

It had been tough to say goodbye to you, especially when you left him with a little wave, a kiss on the cheek, and a “see you soon, Andrei,” but he managed to contain his excitement for the next time.

At least, until this very moment.

He composes himself, sitting back up and grabbing his phone.

Andrei: I had a wonderful time too

Andrei: What do you want to do this time?

He feels like a teenager again, waiting as the seconds pass for your response, and when it comes, he’s pretty sure he wants to squeal with excitement.

He doesn’t even know how to squeal.

Almaznyy: I’ll let you choose, where would you like to take me on a date?

This was definitely a date.

Your fourth date, technically. And you said ‘date,’ so he planned for a ‘date’, but as he waited for you as the seconds ticked by, he was worried it wasn’t enough.

He waited on a bench in front of the Met wearing a dark baseball cap, a gray sweater, bomber jacket, jeans, and sneakers. It was a little chilly out in Manhattan, so he held two of the small, blue signature New York coffee cups in his hands, one with coffee for him, the other with hot chocolate for you.

His knee bounced up and down with nerves, eyes scanning the crowd, looking for any sign of you approaching.

Eventually he sees you emerge, a large scarf wrapped around your neck, covering up your white knit sweater. You’re wearing black jeans and sneakers, your little black bag on your shoulder and in your hand are…

Two blue signature New York coffee cups.

As you get closer, you spot him on the bench, glance at his hands, and then the both of you are laughing by the time you reach him.

“Great minds think alike.” You tease, sitting next to him. “Is that hot chocolate for me?”

He nods, gesturing with his chin at the cups in your hand. “That coffee for me?”

You nod too with a smile, and he shakes his head. “That’s some serious telepathy.”

“I’m pretty sure most people call it chemistry.” You tease, “Here, you drink the coffee I got you, and I’ll drink the hot chocolate you got me.”

You place the excess cups next to you, then exchange the designated cups. He watches as you take a sip of your hot chocolate, smiling when a happy sound crosses your lips.

“How are you, almaznyy?” He asks, reaching a hand out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his hand dropping to his lap unceremoniously.

“Good,” you say, nudging his shoulder with yours. “And you, Andrei?”

“Good,” he nods, “A bit busy, but good.”

You nod, taking another sip. “You have a game tomorrow night, right?”

“Mhm,” he manages through a sip of his own coffee. “Have you ever been?”

“To Madison Square Garden? Or to a hockey game?”

He shrugs. “Both.”

“I’ve been to both,” you say honestly. “Couple concerts and I think two games?”

“Would you like to come?” At his question, you turn your head to look at him, surprise lining your features. Andrei just shrugs. “I’d be upstairs working for most of it, but I know a guy, if you want to go. ” He adds with a small smirk.

You hum, tilting your head to the side a little. “If you’d like to have me there, sure.”

“Would you want an extra ticket or two to bring friends?” He offers.

“If you can swing it, and if it’s not too much trouble,” you say. “I think my roommates know someone on the Rangers, so they’d probably like to come.”

“You just let me know how many people, and I’ll take care of it,” he swears, leaning closer as a breeze comes by.

You bury your nose in your scarf, shivering a little, and Andrei frowns. Immediately, he’s putting his coffee down beside him and pulling off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. When the fabric rests on you, you turn to look at him, a warm smile on your face.

“You sure know how to woo a girl, don’t you, hotshot?” You tease, then reach for his hand, squeezing it. “Thank you.”

“Of course, almaznyy.” He says, squeezing your hand in turn, resting your joined hands on the bench between you. You’re both silent as you finish your initial drinks, and now that your other drinks have gone cold, Andrei tosses them both in the trash nearby before standing, tugging on your still joined hands a little to get you to come up with him.

You take him by surprise when you stand, releasing his hand and wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your nose in his chest. His hands are immediately falling on your back, rubbing up and down in a soothing pattern. “What is it?” He murmurs.

“Missed you a little, I guess.” You say honestly, voice slightly muffled by his sweater. “I had a lot of fun last time.”

“So did I,” he admits. “I missed you a lot, too.”

You hum, the noise vibrating against his chest. “What are we doing here?”

Andrei looks up at the Met, then back down at you. “You said your family liked art, and you told me that you liked to draw. I thought…” his voice trails off as he hesitates.

Was this too personal?

“Thought what?” You press, gently rubbing his back.

“Thought you might like to teach me a thing or two. About art.” He eventually says. When you look up at him, there’s an iridescent beam and goofy but excited tilt in your smile, and his heart hammers in his chest.

You gave him that smile a lot last time.

He was more than thrilled to see it again. He didn’t think he should start counting them, not this time, but he definitely would keep this one in his pocket for later.

Gently, he untangles his arms from around you and grabs one of your hands in his, squeezing once. “Ready to go in?”

You nod, still smiling from ear to ear as you trail after him into the museum.

Almaznyy: In the lexus level suite with my friends

Accompanied with the text is a selfie of you smiling from ear to ear in a Hurricanes beanie, his bomber jacket, and a Carolina Hurricanes hockey jersey underneath. You’re holding up the peace sign, the bracelet he gave you twinkling in the light.

Andrei: On my way

He grabs two security guards and an MSG employee, asking if they can escort him down to your suite.

They guide him quickly through back halls and to an elevator, where after a short ride, he arrives at your level and is promptly escorted to your suite, where they fuck off to the other side of the hall so he can have some privacy.

He opens the door to a barrage of giggling that almost immediately ceases when he steps in.

Your eyes lock on one another almost instantaneously and it’s like his world narrows down to just you.

He’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact you said you wanted to be here, that you were excited to be here and share this with him.

Your friends are sharing knowing looks with you from where you’re all standing at the buffet spread, but you ignore them, offering Andrei a soft smile and almost immediately going to embrace him, wrapping him in a tight hug as you murmur a “hi” into his chest.

Andrei laughs, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, murmuring his own “hi” into your hair as he wraps his arms around you.

It’s been less than a few hours since he’s seen you last - having left you at The Mark earlier in the day so he could prepare for the game, and you headed into the West Village to join your friends in getting ready for the evening - and he still felt your absence like a gaping wound in his chest.

When you pull away, you take his hand, leading him over to your friends.

“Girls, this is Andrei, my boyfriend. Andrei, these are my friends Tiffany, Katie, Cee, and Maya.”

His whole world screeches to a halt as one word rings in his ears.

Boyfriend.

“H-hi,” he stutters, “Nice to meet you.” He holds a hand out as he greets each of your friends, who greet him in turn.

“Thank you for letting us tag along,” Maya says.

Cee tacks on “We really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he says, brain still playing catch up.

Did he imagine it? Or did you definitely call him your boyfriend?

“It was nice of you to get this suite all for us.” Tiffany adds, eyes darting around the space that’s definitely meant for at least a dozen people.

Katie nods in agreement. “We hope it wasn’t inconvenient.”

Andrei shakes his head. “No, it was my pleasure. Is everything okay so far?”

“Fantastic,” you assure him, then turn to your friends. “Can you guys give us a minute?”

They all nod, sharing knowing looks once again before grabbing their plates and drinks, heading toward the front of the suite and out to the seats, getting ready to watch warm ups.

You turn to Andrei then, a sheepish smile on your face. “I’m sorry that I introduced you as my boyfriend, they just…my friends don’t know that I work at Eden, or what I do. They still think I work at my last job. I thought it would be easier.”

His every instinct says he should frown, or that he should be sad, but he also understands.

And also really, really likes the way you make the word “boyfriend” sound.

Even more so, he likes the way it makes him feel.

But…in reality, he’s not that, no matter how much he would like to be.

Or at least, he’s not that yet.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I get it, it’s alright.”

You scrunch your nose. “Are you sure?”

Andrei shrugs, “I mean I would do the same if I was in your shoes.” If I knew your name, he wants to add, but doesn’t. Would that be okay with you?”

You give him a shy smile and nod a little. “Yeah, that would be okay.”

He feels a little out of place then, but then his eyes coast down to the jersey you’re wearing beneath his bomber jacket. He tugs on the logo at your torso, gesturing with his chin. “Where’d you get this?”

“Made a stop downtown at the NHL store after you left earlier,” you say, offering him a cheshire grin. “Picked it up.”

His eyes narrow playfully. “Who’s jersey is it, almaznyy?”

You shrug, tugging the bomber jacket closer, covering yourself up a little. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see later.”

Andrei makes a move like he’s about to scoop you up, when there’s a knock on the door and one of the security guards he came down with pops his head in.

“Sorry to interrupt, but they’re calling for you in the locker rooms, Mr. Svechnikov.”

“Give me a minute and I’ll be right there.” He promises. The guard steps out, shutting the door, and this time, Andrei does scoop you up, and you laugh gleefully, throwing your arms around his neck as he spins you around.

When he puts you down, he bends his head to tell you to have fun, to text him if you need anything and that he’ll come see you during intermissions if he can.

But then you take him by surprise, dragging your arms from his neck, trailing them down his chest, and gripping his tie in one hand, yanking him down the rest of the way as you rise up on your tippy toes and kiss him.

You’re kissing him.

This is your first kiss.

Yebena mat'. Holy shit.

It takes his brain a second to catch up and for his body to follow suit, but when it does, he’s got his hands on your waist and he’s pulling you closer, pressing his lips against yours firmly as he follows your lead, his entire world flipping on its axis in the process.

He doesn’t want this to end, has never been less interested in a game of hockey, ever, in his life, because all he wants right now is to take you straight back to The Mark and kiss you till the sun comes up, kiss your lips, your neck, your collarbone, trail those kisses down your stomach and -

You pull away, eyes glazed over a little and still lingering on his lips. On instinct, Andrei licks them, and your eyes flash, tracing the movement of his tongue.

“I um…” You start to say, but Andrei leans down and kisses you again. It’s chaste, not nearly enough of what he wants to do, but it’s enough for now.

“I know,” he murmurs. Because he does. “Later,” he promises.

Based on the look in your eyes, you know he’ll keep it.

It’s later on during the game that Andrei feels a tap on his shoulder, and he tears his eyes away from the ice, looking to where Coach is pointing.

It’s the jumbotron, and there’s some kid dancing free and wild, people in the stands cheering him on or dancing along with him, but behind him, Andrei’s attention is stolen.

Because there you are, dancing with your friends, looking so wild and free, and a smile creeps up on his face. Then, that’s when he spots it.

Your jersey.

The seven evident on one arm, the three on the other.

Your friend Maya grabs you and makes you do a little twirl, and then the “SVECHNIKOV” emblazoned on your back is on the screen, and the camera zooms in tighter on the child, blowing up your image along with it. The Canes fans cheer at the sight of his jersey, some people even standing, and it does something to his insides.

His jersey.

You’re wearing his jersey.

And he never cared about shit like that before, not really. Most of the wives and girlfriends never actually wore their husband or boyfriend’s jersey unless it was for some charity event or a coordinated effort in the playoffs.

And you’re not his wife, or his girlfriend (yet), but he suddenly feels…

He feels completely less lonely. Feels less like he needs Eden’s services, and more like he just needs you.

Andrei feels like a boyfriend. A proper one. Yours.

“They still love you, buddy.” Coach Brind’amour says, and Andrei laughs, playing it off.

“That’s cheating,” he admits, gesturing to the screen, where they finally move onto another person. “That one was mine.”

Coach’s eyebrows raise a little. “The girl in the jersey?”

He nods, suddenly sheepish. He did say he was going to introduce you as his girlfriend, and you said you were alright with it, so he tells Coach “Yeah, she’s mine.”

“Well shit, Svechy.” Brind’amour teases. “About damn time.”

Yeah, he thinks to himself. I know.

He pulls out his phone then, shooting off a text.

Andrei: You little sneak

The three dots pop up, then disappear, then pop up again before your message comes through.

Almaznyy: You like it?

Andrei: I never thought I’d say this in my life, but I’ll like it better when it’s on the bedroom floor

Almaznyy: I think that can be arranged

Andrei’s bouncing off the walls with anticipation as the elevator ascends to your hotel suite.

The Hurricanes won the game, and while he’s excited for the team, he’s also pretty fucking excited for himself.

It’s like your kiss broke the dam within him, destroying all of his restraint and hesitation. He’d been shaking with anticipation as every second passed between the second he left your suite to the very second he’d been able to get back to you once he was done playing Assistant General Manager.

That’s something he’d never thought he’d say in his life.

He was fucking ecstatic to have this job, to be given a job for the team he’d stuck with since day one, a team that had given him everything.

But this? You?

This felt like a once in a lifetime kind of thing, and he wasn’t going to waste another second away from you.

A part of him felt bad about you saying goodbye to your friends so early, but this was his time with you.

Technically, as twisted as it made him feel, he paid for it…so…

When he finally unlocks the door to the suite, you saunter inside ahead of him, stripping off your shoes, socks, his jacket and your beanie, dropping them to the floor. His heart pounds harder in his chest, watching as you turn your head over your shoulder just slightly, enough so that he can see the mischievous smile on your face before you unbutton and unzip your jeans, dropping them to the floor and stepping out of them, sauntering ahead toward the bedroom with a flick of your hair behind you.

“Yebat’,” he groans out loud. Fuck.

The sight of your bare thighs hidden beneath his jersey is the last thing he sees before you round the corner, and the image of those thighs wrapped around his head tents his pants in a second and propels him forward, stripping off his tie and suit jacket and kicking his shoes and socks off as he goes, leaving them in the same trail as your belongings.

When he gets to the bedroom, you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, all jersey and bare thighs, and the smile that spreads on his face is wide and bright.

“Posmotri na sebya,” he murmurs. Look at you.

He steps in front of you, inches between you now, and takes in the way your eyes track him as he gets on his knees, placing his hands beside you on the edge of the bed and leaning forward.

You spread your legs a little to let him settle between them, and Andrei closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours as he shuts his eyes, losing himself in the feel of you. He feels your hands drift up his chest, gathering the material of his shirt and pulling him closer.

He feels your thighs bracketing his torso, then they’re wrapping around him, ankles locking behind him and he bites down on your lip a little, a small pleased sound leaving your mouth that reverberates in his body.

“C’mere,” you say between kisses, and he rises up, places his hands under your thighs as he moves the two of you up the bed, resting you against the pillows and slowly placing his weight on top of you.

“Almaznyy,” his own voice sounds far away to him, probably because that’s where he feels like he is.

He feels like this is too good to be true, like this is all a dream and he’s going to wake up any second and feel like the last month that you’ve been in his life has all been an illusion.

Everything’s moving so fast, and he just…he’s suddenly worried that you might not be on the same page.

It makes him pull away, just a fraction, and you make a small noise of protest, trying to pull him back to you.

Andrei smiles, catching your hand and kissing it. “It’s okay,” he says. “I just…” He pauses, swallowing past a lump in his throat.

You tilt your head, taking in his expression. “What is it, Andrei?”

He shakes his head - partly out of disbelief that this is happening, and partly because he’s worried this is all in his head. “I don’t want to do something you don’t want. I don’t want to do anything if you don’t want it too.”

“Andrei, Andrei look at me.” You implore, framing his face with your hands. “I’m here, with you. Not because I have to be, not because of this job, I am here with you at this moment because I want to be, okay? I want this. I want you.”

It’s exactly what he needed to hear, but suddenly the words are too much to bear, it feels like something he doesn’t deserve.

“What do you need?” He pleads. If he can know what you need him to do, maybe he’ll feel better about deserving this moment with you. “Tell me what you need here, what you need tonight, what you need from me. What can I do, almaznyy?”

“I just need you,” you coo, pulling him back down to you for another kiss.

“Is that all?” He presses, resisting for just a moment to look you in the eyes, so you can see him, so you can understand.

He’s asking about tonight and beyond, asking about what he can do to help you get what you need out of this arrangement, to make this more than a contractual obligation.

“Just you, Andrei,” you repeat, meeting his gaze straight on.

“If we do this…” he begins. “If we do this, then…”

“I know,” you insist. “I still want it. Do you?”

Andrei shakes his head, smiling at you. There’s…he can’t put it into words.

The draw he feels to you is…otherworldly.

And you’re beneath him now, in his jersey, his last name on your back, four dates under your belt, and you’ve got the most insane chemistry together, and he already likes you so much that he worries it would scare you if you knew how badly he’s wanted you since that very first second.

“You don’t get it,” he insists, bending his head a little, rubbing his nose against yours gently. “The things I want…if we do this…” he says again, finding your eyes. “If we do this, there’s no going back. Do you understand? If I touch you, I can’t go back.”

You nod, “I know. I don’t want to go back.”

You’re still not answering his question, not really, and he knows that.

“You can tell me you know,” Andrei breathes out, still a little dazed that this is happening. “You can tell me anything.”

You smile at him, nodding and murmuring “I know,” before pulling him down to kiss you again, and he feels it, feels the way you try to communicate to him through your lips, pressing your body against his, that this - here and now - is mutual.

And that’s going to have to be enough.

This time, there’s no more waiting, no more hesitating, and he kisses you back full force, pressing his hips to yours and pushing you into the mattress. His hands wander up the jersey, feeling the lace material at your hip and on your ribs and he needs to see it.

You must read his mind, because you’re reaching between the two of you and grabbing at the jersey, pulling it up and over your head, and all Andrei sees is black lace.

His cock throbs painfully against the zipper of his pants, and he meets your eyes for just a second, asking permission, and you’ve barely nodded before he’s bending his head, sucking the skin of your exposed breast into his mouth and groaning at the taste of you, the feel of your skin beneath his tongue.

You gasp a little, back arching and he winds his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer as his name crosses your lips in a dreamy sigh.

“Say it again,” he demands, dragging his teeth over your skin as he switches to your other breast, pressing his palms against your back. “Say my name again, almaznyy.”

“Andrei,” you breathe out without hesitation, “Feels so good.”

He sucks your skin into his mouth, flicking his eyes up to gauge your reaction, and when he finds you already looking at him, his pulse skyrockets, and your hips move, grinding your core against his clothed abdomen.

Freeing one hand from behind you, he brings it forward and between your bodies, trailing his fingers over the lace and down toward your core, pressing gently against the lace, a moan escaping his throat before he can stop it when he feels how wet you are.

“This for me?” He murmurs quietly, trailing his tongue in the valley between your breasts, playing with the hem between your legs.

You nod, breath coming out in heated pants. “Only you, Andrei. Just you.”

Only you.

Just you.

He lets those words ring in his ears, lets the syllables settle in his bones and cloud his mind when he presses his fingers at the fabric and tears, ripping the black lace thong from your body before stuffing them in his pocket and shuffling down the bed.

You’re sitting up on your elbows, looking down your body at him as he parts your thighs, his large hands digging into the flesh as his eyes take in the one place he never imagined he’d be lucky enough to see in his life.

“Trakhni menya,” he nearly croaks. Fuck me.

Your glistening pink heat stares at him, inviting him closer, calling to him, and he answers the call without a moment’s hesitation, leaning forward and burying his face between your thighs, dipping his tongue into your dripping center and sucking.

The sound of his lips and mouth working against your pussy fill the bedroom quickly, obscene and loud noises echoing off the walls. He eats you unabashed, unashamed, and unrestricted. You thrash against his mouth as pleased moans and whines escape your throat one after the other.

Your hands fly into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp and tugging the tresses between your fingers, pulling him closer and pushing him away all at once. His lips barely detach from your skin when he pulls away to take a breath, not wanting to be too far from his current task, not wanting your skin and your taste so far from him ever again.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and your back arches, nearly tearing your hips away from him and he moans out a little displeased sound, pulling you closer and bracketing his arms across your belly, keeping you locked against his mouth.

“Andrei,” you pant again, desperation in your tone, “Please, please I’m so close.”

He quite likes the sound of you begging.

“Come,” he commands, murmuring against your clit. “Come for me, I want to taste you.”

He sucks your clit into his mouth, hard, and he keeps his eyes on you, your face, and your body, gauging for the little tells he wants to memorize, store in his memory for the next time he gets to do this with you, and the next, and the next, and the next.

You go silent all of a sudden, heaving breaths stopping as your orgasm hits and your mouth falls open in a silent cry, brows furrowed and eyes shut tight while your grip in his hair tightens, thighs bracketing his head as your body shakes through your orgasm. The taste of you floods his mouth and he groans in delight, savoring every drop happily as he continues to lick and suck until you’re all but forcing his head away, giggling and delirious.

“Andrei please,” you breathe, “Please just come here.”

He obeys, crawling up your body until he’s close enough and he bends his head, accepting your kiss and massaging his tongue against yours, sharing your release. He lets you unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders, lets you pull his shirt over his head before he unhooks your lace bra and tosses it aside, and then you’re completely bare for him.

“Let me see you,” he pleads, sitting up and back on his haunches just so he can look at you.

You preen under his gaze, back arching slightly as you stretch, a cheshire grin crossing your features as his eyes roam over you, trying his damndest to commit the sight of you to memory.

“Ty takaya krasivaya,” he praises. You’re so beautiful, allowing his admission to linger in the air and one of his hands to wander up your calves, your thighs, before it settles on your waist, the other hand unbuckling his belt with deft fingers.

“Spasibo,” you say almost shyly, sitting up and then reaching out, unbuttoning his dress pants and then lowering the zipper.

The corner of his mouth ticks up, his expression curious. “What did I say?”

He watches with bated breath as your hands dance on the waistband of his boxer briefs, and one of your shoulders lifts in a small shrug. “I think you called me beautiful,” you respond, eyes slow as they drag up his body and toward his face.

Andrei leans down, playfully suspicious when he says “And how did you know that?”

You shake your head, dragging that beautiful bottom lip between your teeth before bringing your eyes back down, dipping your fingers into his waistband. “Lucky guess.”

Andrei doesn’t believe that for a second, but his protest dies in his throat the second your hand dips into his underwear and wraps around his cock, grip firm as you tug a little at the base of him.

A loud but pleased groan echoes out of him and his head tilts back, nearly going cross eyed as you tug again, and his hand shoots out, circling your wrist gently as he shakes his head.

When he manages to focus again, he raises his head and looks down at you, the furrow in your brow and pout of your lips damn near breaking his heart.

“Did I not do it right?” You ask, concern lacing your tone.

He reaches a hand out, thumb smoothing the furrow in your brow before dragging over your lower lip. Your tongue darts out, licking the pad of his finger before you gently suck his thumb into your mouth, and chert voz'mi, damn it if his cock doesn’t throb painfully in your grip.

“Almaznyy, I don’t think there’s a single thing you could do to me that wouldn’t be absolutely right, or feel fucking amazing. But I need this first time with you to last more than forty five seconds, okay?”

Understanding crosses your features, and a pleased smile makes its way onto your lips. “Oh,” you say, a little dazed, almost surprised, and it baffles Andrei right back.

How could you not possibly know how you undo him? How could you not know that you rattle his very existence in the best way? He feels like it’s so obvious now, like there’s no way he’s been playing it as cool as he’s believed this entire time.

He smiles at you, voice teasing when he says, “Yes, ‘oh,’ almaznyy. It’s you, it’s what you do to me.”

“You do it to me too, you know.” You say. The response is almost immediate and your words go right to his heart.

Again.

He rises from the bed then, dragging his pants and boxer briefs down his legs before he kicks them off to the side, then he’s climbing back on the bed and settling between your legs. Your hands frame his face once more when you pull him to you for a kiss, a kiss that quickly turns from innocent and reassuring to desperate and needy, soft and open mouthed as his tongue massages against yours, you opening up beneath him almost automatically, like you’ve done this together a dozen times before.

There’s a moment where he expects to be jealous, to think about the times you could’ve been like this with other people, but the moment never comes.

Because deep down, and based on the way your body comes alive under his touch, the way you respond to him, the way the two of you move like your bodies know each other inside and out already, Andrei knows, he just knows that neither of you have ever experienced something this perfect in your entire lives.

“Condom?” He asks between kisses, trying to work through his mental checklist. “Do you want me to put on a condom?”

You barely even hesitate when you say “No, I’m clean. I know you are, too. I want to feel you. Is that okay?”

God. “It’s more than okay, almaznyy,” he assures you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I want the same.”

His cock slips against your pussy where you’re soaked for him all over again, and you both moan, grinding against one another as you make out until the need for one another just becomes too much to bear.

“Ask me,” he says, nearly begging. Because as right as this is, he still needs to know that you want this too, and that he’s not just imagining things. “Ask me for it.”

Your voice is syrupy when you ask “Please Andrei, please put it in. I want you so badly. I want you, just you, Andrei, no one else and I - oh my-”

Your words are cut off as you gasp on an inhale, mouth open in another silent cry as your back arches, hips tilting just so that Andrei has to focus, has to keep his hips still as he focuses solely on the way you flutter around him and squeeze as he pushes in just an inch. The look on your face, the way your body reacts has him nearly roaring with satisfaction, with pride, his mind going blank as two words run through his brain on a loop.

Ona moya, he thinks. She’s mine, she’s mine, she’s mine.

You’re his. You belong to him, and he belongs to you. There’s nothing else in this world that makes sense.

“Breathe, almaznyy,” he pleads, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “Need you to breathe, need you to tell me if it’s too much.”

Your head shakes, frantic, and your next inhale is deep, gathering enough air in your lungs to steady yourself, and he rises again, eyes scanning your face desperately, needing you to be okay.

Your eyes lock almost instantly, and the look on your face is pleading, your words articulating the desperation behind them when you say “More, Andrei, please. Pozhaluysta.”

He curses, cock throbbing when he pushes inside another inch, and your hands fly to his ass, nails digging into the flesh of his cheeks as you try to pull him closer. “I know, I know,” he assures, “I’ve got you, almaznyy.”

“I’m so close again already, Andrei.” You murmur, tilting your head up and speaking the words against his jaw. “Please, just wanna feel you. Want you all the way inside.”

The way your words affect him feel nearly criminal, and he almosts debates grabbing his tie from out in the living area of the suite or your torn thong from his pants on the floor and using either of them to gag you, keep your mouth shut and stop him from blowing his load before he’s ready.

“Okay,” he says instead, trying to ease your desperation as well as his own. He pushes inside a little more, and when you nod, pleased mewls spilling through your lips, he keeps going until he’s seated all the way inside, can feel his balls pressing against your ass cheeks, and you both let out a satisfied groan.

“Khoroshaya devochka,” good girl, “taking me so well,” he praises, and you nod, eyes glazed over in pleasure.

“For you,” you say, all breathy. “Just for you.”

His hips stutter, causing him to pull out and push back in just a fraction, but it’s enough that your eyes flutter. “What did I say?” He asks, and watches in amazement when you give him a lazy smile, eyes still lost in the way he’s making you feel.

“You said I was a good girl,” you say, though it comes out slow, and Andrei nods, dropping a kiss to your lips, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away and pushes up on his arms.

“I did,” he confirms. He drags his hips backward until just the tip of him rests inside of you, and then he pushes forward, burying himself back to the hilt. The moan that echoes across the walls buries itself in his mind as he catalogs the sound.

He starts to fuck you in earnest then, hands resting on the backs of your thighs to keep you propped open and spread for him, allowing him to watch the way his cock disappears inside of you, the way you take him over and over, his cock glistening with your arousal everytime he pulls out. The sounds your bodies make are probably obscene, but they sound like perfection in his mind, and he keeps at it, his eyes locked on your face to gauge your reactions, to make sure that he’s not giving you anything but mind blowing pleasure.

It’s all you deserve. He’ll give you nothing but the best, and if it’s not to your standards, he won’t stop until he gets it right, until he knows everything you like, until his legs burn and his jaw aches and he knows every single way he can make you come until you see stars and your voice is shot from screaming his name.

“Andrei,” you breathe, hands fisted in the sheets. “I’m going to come.”

He nods, “Do it, almaznyy. I want to see. Let me see you.”

“Want you to come with me,” you plead, and he feels his balls tighten at your plea.

Your bodies know one another, he’s certain of it now.

“I will,” he promises. “Need you to come first, need to make sure you come first. Come for me and I’ll give you anything and everything, I promise.”

Your pussy flutters around him again, and he drives his hips forward, focused on fucking you until your flutters turn into a near death grip as you squeeze him, back breaking on an arch as his name crosses your lips in ecstasy, body shaking as your orgasm rocks through your body.

Your arms shoot out as you yank him down, and when you kiss him, when he swallows your cries as your release drips down his cock, he can feel a tight knot form at the base of his spine as his orgasm hits him like a freight train.

His arms shake as he keeps you open to him, cock throbbing as his orgasm pulses inside of you, filling you to the brim as he claims you from the inside.

“Ty moy,” he says as his orgasm begins to calm, pressing the words into your hairline. “Tol'ko moy.”

You’re mine, only mine.

“Andrei,” you say, his name sounding like a plea and a confirmation to his words all at once, and his heart hammers in his chest.

If you only knew, almaznyy. He wants to say.

But his name on your lips is enough for now.

It has to be.

November

He wakes up hard.

Images of you run through his brain from his dreams into his waking life and he sighs, reaching for his phone on his bedside table.

There’s a text there from you, telling him goodnight after you got off the phone earlier, and though it’s late - or maybe too early in the morning, he’s not sure - he calls you anyway, figuring he could just leave a voicemail, and a surprised bolt of joy blooms in his chest when you actually answer.

“Thought you were asleep, malysh.” You say, and Andrei can hear your smile through the phone.

“I never should have taught you that word,” he teases. He’d taught it to you the morning after your first night together, after he’d pressed the word into your neck while he fucked you from behind.

“Why not?” You feign hurt. “You get to call me something cute, why can’t I?”

What he really wants to call you is your name, but he knows he can’t ask, and since you still haven’t offered, it’s probably because you don’t feel like the two of you are in the right place for it.

You’ll get there, the two of you, he’s sure of it. He’s waited this long, he can wait a little more.

“You’re just going to use it to torment me,” he says, sighing as he leans back against his headboard.

You hum to yourself. “Well you’re clearly tormenting yourself if you’re awake right now. What’s going on?”

He shrugs even though he knows you can’t see him. “Ya skuchayu po tebe,” he says. “Kazhdyy den'.”

I miss you, every day.

It’s only been a couple of weeks, but it feels like months in his mind. Especially now that he’s had you in his arms, now that he knows what it sounds like when you say his name when he makes you come, now that he knows what you taste like, how you feel beneath his hands and body, it’s like he’s got a craving he can’t satisfy and he can’t help but want more, even if it leaves him feeling starved.

“Oh Andrei,” you coo, adoration in your voice. “I miss you too.”

His heart stops and he takes a deep breath, clutching his phone tighter. “How do you know what I said?”

“I have my ways.” You say cryptically, and he can hear your mischievous smile through the phone.

“Have you been taking lessons?” He inquires. It’s possible, given how much you understood that night and so far.

You giggle, “What’s making you miss me so much?”

He’ll accept your change of subject…for now. “Can’t get enough of you.” He confesses, “I can’t stop thinking about the last time I saw you.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you either,” you say. “Or that night.”

Andrei feels butterflies in his stomach followed by a wave of sadness. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you again,” he says honestly. “We’re in the height of the season now, and we’ve got a decent stretch of home games coming up, so it’ll be hard to get away to New York.”

“We don’t have to meet in New York, you know.” You say. “I can always come to Raleigh.”

He blinks, bolting upright so quick it almost makes him dizzy. “You can?”

“Yeah, Eden allows it so that we can travel wherever we need to. You don’t have to always formally book dates and times unless it’s based on your schedule.” You say. “I can always come to you, I just thought that…”

Your voice trails off, and Andrei frowns. “Thought what?”

You hesitate, and he feels it form a crack in his chest. “I thought you needed something more discreet, and that you liked being in Manhattan for the secrecy, so I never mentioned anything else. Plus, you always booked for The Mark Hotel, so…”

When you don’t continue, he swallows a lump in his throat. “I didn’t really know that. I guess I didn’t fully understand the booking parameters. Plus, I thought it was easier for you.” He winces at his word choice. “Not because of Eden, or anything, but because it was where we first met? So I thought it would be more comfortable for you..”

“No I understand, Andrei, I do.” You reassure him. “But I can come to you, if you’d like. If that’s what you want, or what you’re comfortable with.”

“I’d love that.” He says almost immediately. “I would love to have you here.”

You arrive in Raleigh two days later, Andrei picking you up from the airport. You’d offered to take an Uber since Eden would be footing the bill, but Andrei didn’t like that idea.

You were his girl, his companion, and he’d take care of you himself, thank you very much.

He parks in the garage and waits for you at baggage claim, hiding beneath a baseball cap and his reading glasses just in case any fans recognize him. It doesn’t help that despite the fact that he’s retired, he knows his face is still plastered at the terminal exit as passengers come out and take the escalators down toward baggage claim.

Thankfully, you don’t make him wait long. He spots you coming down the escalator, wearing sweatpants and a baggy shirt Andrei recognizes as his own, a flannel tied around your waist and a duffel bag hanging off of one shoulder, your bracelet glittering in the fluorescent lights of the airport.

You spot him just as quickly, and Andrei enjoys the way the smile that stretches across your lips forms almost immediately.

Andrei’s moving before he realizes, and he ends up at the bottom of the escalator just in time for you to step off of it, and then he’s hauling you into his arms by your waist, your own wrapping around his neck as he lifts you a little and spins you around, careful to move you both out of the way in the process.

Happy giggles spill from your lips as he presses kisses all over your face, grinning from ear to ear when he sets you down on your feet.

“Hi, almaznyy.” He greets quietly, arms still secured around you.

You rise on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his jaw, greeting him with an equally soft “Hi, malysh.”

He takes your hand and leads you over to the baggage claim area for your flight, choosing a spot close to the belt but far enough away from other passengers that he can still have you all to himself.

“How was your flight?” He asks, thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

“It was good,” you say, resting your head against his arm. “I’m just happy I’m here.”

“So am I, almaznyy.” He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead as the buzzer goes off and the belt of the baggage carousel starts to move.

You point out your suitcase after a few minutes and Andrei insists on grabbing it and taking your duffel from you, carrying both so the only thing you have to worry about holding is his hand in yours.

You make it out to his car and he makes sure to get you inside safe and sound before he places your things in the backseat, despite your protests of your suitcase messing up his leather interior.

He could care fucking less about that. All he cares about right now is that you’re here, in Raleigh, that he’s about to take you home for the first time, and that according to the confirmation email he got after you got off the phone the other night, the ticket Eden helped you arrange to Raleigh was a one way ticket.

Meaning you were here for as long as either of you wanted, with no clear plans to send you back, and he liked that a lot.

He also liked that your suitcase felt heavy, meaning you probably packed for a long time.

All things that made Andrei feel like he should probably get a gift basket for Olly and Mason as a thank you for not being able to keep their traps shut at that dinner, maybe talk to Coach about getting them more ice time, maybe negotiating more money in their next contracts.

You held hands the entire drive to his house, your bracelet and his Rolex glinting in the sunlight from where they accompanied one another on his center console, and when he finally pulled into his garage and shut off his car, he felt a sudden rush of excitement fill his veins, and excitement he’d only felt whenever he got his day with the Cup.

It was that initial feeling of him being able to carry it over the threshold into his home that made the victory feel surreal, and as he wheeled your luggage and carried your bag, holding your hand as he guided you inside his home and over the threshold, he realized this feeling, bringing you home, was better than any Cup championship he’d experienced.

It wasn’t even close.

The only thing that could possibly come second flashed in his mind, and images of him being able to bring you over this threshold in a white dress, layers of tulle flowing like a waterfall over his arms, and then not long after, being able to escort you over the threshold as you held a bundled up baby in your arms.

It seized the breath from his lungs so quickly he nearly choked.

He’d never given so much thought to a god damn doorway before.

Oblivious to his predicament, you trail behind him as he leads you to his bedroom, eyes roaming over the expanse of his home, taking in every last detail.

“I’ll give you a full tour once you’re settled in,” he promises. “I just want to make sure you get comfortable first.”

“Okay,” you agree, voice soft in the mid morning hour.

When you finally get to his room, he lays your suitcase down on the bench at the foot of the bed, placing your duffel bag next to it. “You can sleep on whatever side you’d like,” he says, gesturing to the bed. “Feel free to make yourself at home. Bathroom’s through there,” he points to a door near the closet, “Fresh towels are already out for you. Would you like something to eat? I can make you lunch.”

You shake your head. “No, I'm okay for now, I ate a little on the plane.”

“Are you sure? Can I get you anything else?” he asks.

You shake your head again with a small smile, tilting your head toward the bathroom. “I’m sure, Andrei. Do you mind if I shower?”

“Of course not, feel free. I’ll uh…I’ll be in my office just down the hall, there’s something I have to take care of anyway.”

He closes the distance and drops a kiss to your lips, squeezing your waist in his hand before he leaves, wanting to give you space to yourself, to feel comfortable in his home.

Oh god.

You’re in his home.

His actual fucking house.

He can’t seem to get over that as nerves begin to settle in, tossing his hat to his desk once he’s in his office, running a hand through his hair.

He hasn’t been this nervous to bring someone home ever. He’d been so excited just to see you again, to have you here that it wasn’t until now that he worried what you’d think of the space, if you’d find it comfortable and homey and welcoming.

With a sigh, he pushes his glasses further up his nose as he opens his laptop, bringing up his emails and sorting through some of the things he needed to take care of for the team, welcoming the distraction even though it made him feel uncomfortable to think of anything but you for longer than a millisecond.

Especially when you were down the hall, in his bedroom, in his shower, naked.

The same shower he’d jerked off in thinking about you this morning, and last night. And the night before.

“O Gospodi, chto zhe ya nadelal,” he mutters to himself. Oh lord, what have I done?

He spends the next fifteen minutes willing himself to focus on the emails in front of him, tasks for him to finish up, people to respond back to, people to reach out to at the behest of the team owners and Coach Brind’amour. When his emails clear, he shuts his laptop and pulls out his phone, busying himself with responding to texts from Evgeny about the upcoming holidays, getting back to Evgeny’s wife, Sara, about potential Christmas presents for his brother, and his parents, checking in on them both.

It busies him enough that when you finally walk into his office - wet hair still dripping a little and body dressed in a baby pink spaghetti strap sundress, the only jewelry on you being the bracelet you never take off, your bare feet padding onto the carpet - he doesn’t notice at first.

That is, not until you’re on the other side of his desk, knocking your fist playfully on the wood.

Andrei’s head snaps up from his phone, and he leans back a little in relief in his chair when he notices it’s you, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “You almost scared me there.”

“Sorry,” you breathe out in a laugh. “I believe I have an appointment with you, Mr. Svechnikov?”

He’s confused at first, until he sees the way your eyes twinkle mischievously, and he smirks. “Is that so?”

You nod, clasping your hands behind your back. “Mhm, I believe you’ve been expecting me, and I know you don’t like it when I’m late.”

Andrei places his phone back in his pocket, then folds his hands across his abdomen, resting his elbows on the armrest of his chair. “What is it you’re meant to be meeting with me about?”

“Don’t you remember? I’m your new assistant,” you say, releasing one of your hands from behind your back and trailing a finger on the other side of his desk. “I’ve been hired to help you and ensure your daily needs are met.”

“You’re a little underdressed to be an assistant, aren’t you?” He asks, tilting his head curiously.

You look down with a small pout, then back up to his face. “You don’t like it?”

“Hmmm, it’s hard to tell. Why don’t you come around the desk and let me see?”

He backs his chair up a little as you round the desk and then come to stand between his spread legs. Andrei pretends to deliberate, raising his hand in the air and twirling his finger before saying “Turn around, let me see all of you.”

A shy smile works its way onto your face as you do a little turn, his cock immediately growing hard as he observes you taking slow steps to complete your circle before facing him once more, clasping your hands in front of you. “Well?”

“I think,” Andrei says, scooting his chair closer to you before his hands make their way to the backs of your thighs, thumbs rubbing at your skin. “That you’re perfect.”

“Why thank you,” you murmur, reaching a hand out and cupping his cheek. “You’re very sweet.”

He shakes his head a little. “If you knew what was going through my head right now, you’d disagree.”

“Well, what’s going through your head?” You inquire, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone.

“Why don’t you hop up on the desk and maybe you’ll find out?” He says, punctuating his statement with a light slap to the backs of one of your thighs. You gasp a little, leaning into him, and Andrei smiles, tightening his grip on your thighs as he stands, and you jump a little into his arms, your arms winding themselves around his neck as he backs you both up two steps, setting you down onto the wood of his desk gently.

“I always have a lot going on in my head when it comes to you,” he admits, reaching up to grab your hands, kissing the backs of them before bringing them down to your lap. “I just don’t want you to…I guess I just don’t want to scare you away.”

“Skazhi mne,” you encourage, voice soft. Tell me.

Andrei’s eyes flash. “Tell me where you’re learning Russkiy.” He demands.

You giggle, “What’s going on in your head?” You ask him instead, and he narrows his eyes a little.

One of these days he’s not going to let you change the subject, but for now, he plays along. “I think about you sometimes,” he admits, circling his fingers around the bracelet on your wrist, pads running over the diamond studded vines. “I think about you on this desk, like you are now.”

“And?” You press, tracking his every move with your eyes.

He hesitates to say more, unsure of how far to go with this, unsure of what he should reveal and what would be too…scandalous.

“What about me on the desk, Andrei?” You ask, reaching a hand out to trail down his abdomen, resting on the waistband of his jeans.

He shakes his head, cheeks heating as his face goes red. He’s too ashamed, feels like he shouldn’t have been thinking such…dirty things about someone as pure as you. “I can’t, almaznyy. I-”

You surge up then, pulling his waistband at the same time and kissing him, hands traveling up his abdomen and to his face, where you pull his reading glasses off and set them on the desk next to his phone. Then, you take him by surprise, placing your hands firmly on his chest and shoving him back down into his desk chair.

“I think this is where I, as your assistant, can help you articulate those thoughts.” You start, his favorite cheshire smile of yours creeping onto your lips. “Since it’s my job to make sure your needs are met, and to anticipate any future needs.”

“Are you sure about that?” He asks, well aware of how hard he’s breathing.

You nod, and without another word, spread those glorious legs of yours to reveal your bare pussy.

Andrei’s breath catches in his throat. “Almaznyy,” he breathes, the word coming out like a pained sound.

“Malysh,” you say, voice teasing as your hand, the one donning your bracelet, comes forward and runs down your stomach and to the hem of your dress, pulling it up to bare yourself to him a little more.

He doesn’t know where to look. He wants to look at your face, wants to watch your facial expressions, but then he also wants to watch your hands, memorize the way you touch yourself so he can mimic the movements later, and he wants to keep his eyes locked on that little piece of heaven you’ve got between your thighs.

“Will this make it easier for you to tell me what’s on your mind?” You ask, trailing your fingers down and collecting the wetness already gathering, dragging it back up to circle your clit.

All he can do is nod, too entranced by your ministrations. He can feel his mouth start to water, watching one of the spaghetti straps of your sundress start to fall off of one shoulder, and good lord -

He reaches out, rubbing the hem of your sundress between his fingers. “Ty golaya pod etim plat'yem, krasavitsa?”

Are you naked under this dress, beautiful?

Your brow furrows as your fingers continue to move in deliberate circles, and Andrei memorizes the pattern, tucks it away in his brain for later. “I don’t…I didn’t understand all of that,” you admit.

He smirks, but doesn’t repeat himself. He doesn’t know if he has the energy to think in just one language, let alone two right now, because all of his focus is directed on you and your body.

“Boleye,” he pleads. More.

Now that you seem to understand, because you part your legs a little wider, scooting more toward the edge of his desk as you continue touching yourself.

Andrei rolls his desk chair a little closer so you can place your feet on the armrests and essentially bracket him in, giving him the perfect front row seat to everything going on. He reaches for his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them before he’s reaching inside his boxer briefs and pulling out his cock, giving it a rough tug to ease some of the pressure.

Your pupils blow out wide as you watch him, and he jerks his chin at where your fingers are moving up and down your pussy now, where he can see the digits glistening from his vantage point.

“Move your hand.” He orders, and you do, prepared to move it to the side to rest on your thigh, but then Andrei’s making a small “tsk” noise, and your hand hovers in the air for a second.

“Give it to me,” he says, holding one hand out while the other strokes his cock in slow movements. You place your hand in his and then he’s bringing the arousal coated digits to his mouth, sucking them between his lips and massaging the pads with his tongue, cleaning away your wetness and swallowing it down with a pleased rumble in his chest.

Your fingers leave his mouth in a soft ‘pop’ when he pulls them out, and he brings both hands to rest under your thighs, pulling you just a little bit closer to the edge, allowing his desk chair to also roll forward until there’s practically no space between you both, and then he’s bending his head, lips latching onto your pussy and sucking hard.

A surprised moan crosses your lips and Andrei’s hands hold you steady as you thrash a little, clearly not expecting him to just dive in so eagerly. Your hands slam against the desk behind you, using them to try to prop you up and keep you steady, and Andrei’s eyes are glued to your face.

He managed to learn what you liked best that first night, having the privilege to have taken you four times that night, insisting on tasting you every chance he got. He knows now that you like it when he turns his head just a little, tilting it so it’s nearly sideways and taking your labia and clit into his mouth and sucking, licking across the center of your cunt and teasing it as if he’s making out with you.

So when he tilts his head and does just that, taking you into his mouth the way you like, his name spews from your lips in a breathy sigh, and your arms shake at your sides.

Eagerly, he laps at you and moans in satisfaction when the taste of you and smell of you overwhelms his senses, having also learned that you like hearing him, like hearing how much he’s enjoying you and how excited he is to get you to come on his tongue. He doesn’t exaggerate the noises his mouth makes against you but does nothing to lessen or quiet them.

It’s his fucking house, and you’re on his fucking desk, at the mercy of his lips and tongue and spread out by his hands, so he’ll do whatever he god damn pleases. You can cry out for God for all he cares, it’s just the two of you in this room, and the only ‘God’ to answer your prayers for more is going to be him.

“Andrei,” you moan, turning his name into a plea and dammit does he love that, too. It’s a sound he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to. “Pozhaluysta,” you beg. Please.

You don’t have to beg, he wants to tell you. You don’t have to beg me for a goddamn thing. I’ll give you whatever you want. Just ask me and it’s yours, I’m yours.

Instead, he just nods, pressing his tongue against you in the way he knows you like and spreading your thighs apart, pressing against the back of them to expose you to him more so he can feast on you properly.

It’s messy, wet, and loud, and Andrei couldn’t give a single fuck, not when you’re so close, your arousal dripping down his chin and your thighs are pressing up against his palm, shaking as you get closer and threatening to squeeze his head between the strong muscles.

“Can I come, Andrei?” You ask, syrupy sweet and desperate and his cock throbs in response.

He nods, brushing his nose against your clit as he does and you jolt, body nearly shaking in relief when his lips circle around your clit and he sucks in the pulsing rhythm he discovered had you coming in no time time, his tongue lapping at you and drawing you closer to release.

When your orgasm hits, your whole body shakes under his touch, and your arms fall out from under you, your back landing on his desk and then arching up, pressing you further into his mouth. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t back away, doesn’t do anything until you’re pushing at his head, and whining at the over sensitivity.

“Please malysh,” you beg, shaking against his mouth as he continues to lap at you. “It’s too much.”

“I’m a little busy, almaznyy,” he murmurs against your clit. “I’m cleaning up my assistant.”

You laugh through heaving breaths, fingers descending into Andrei’s hair and gripping the strands tight in your fist, tugging a little. He relents, pressing gentle kisses to your skin as you sit up, and then you’re fisting his shirt in your grasp, yanking him upright and kissing him, slipping your tongue inside his mouth and chasing the taste of yourself on his tongue.

You take him by surprise in the next second, shoving him back down in his chair and then licking the palm of your hand, wrapping it around his cock and twisting.

He hisses, hands gripping at your calves. He’s too sensitive and far too hard to be able to handle your touch. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to handle it, especially not now that he knows every inch of your skin and how it feels against his.

“Almaznyy,” he warns through clenched teeth when you twist your first over the head of his cock, squeezing and swiping at the bead of precum on his tip with your thumb. “Stop teasing.”

“Is that an order, Mr. Svechnikov?” You taunt, squeezing the head of his cock once more.

A low groan leaves his lips, and he has half a mind to reach up and wrap his fingers around your throat, but instead, all he can do is hiss out a pained “Yes,” and then you’re using your other hand to reach out, yanking him a little closer before scooting all the way off of his desk and sitting right on his cock, taking him to the hilt in one go.

The gasp that leaves you both simultaneously is loud and echoes around his office, probably even down the hallway, and he can barely gather enough air in his lungs before you’re rising up again and then dropping down, and it feels like he’s going to burst at the seams.

“Oh my god,” he says, the words feeling like they’re being punched out of him as you slowly start to bounce on him. He tracks the way both of the straps of your dress hang off of your shoulders, the way that the bottom part of your dress is still raised from where he’d pushed it up earlier, and the bounce of your tits beneath the neckline.

He reaches out, tugging the neckline down and freeing them, and then you’re moving, sitting up a little taller, thighs bracketing his as you keep your pace bouncing on his cock, arching your back just so that when Andrei leans forward, he can easily suck your nipple into his mouth, laving his tongue over the bud while sucking your skin, hoping a hickey blooms there for him to admire later.

The moans spilling from your lips tell him you enjoy it, so he continues, switching to the other side and giving you teasing licks before he mimics his previous ministrations, sucking hard enough to hopefully produce matching marks.

Your hands find their way into the longer hair at the nape of his neck and tug so he’s looking up at you, and Andrei sees the way your glassy eyes take in his fucked out expression, sees how it spurs you on, your mouth dropping open in an ‘O’ everytime you sink down on his cock till he’s balls deep, then raise yourself up on your knees.

“Khoroshaya devochka,” he praises. Good girl. “Take it from me. Make yourself come on my cock.”

Nodding, you speed up just a little, thighs tightening on either side of his, and Andrei’s hands go to your ass, gripping the flesh and helping to move you up and down his length, keeping his eyes on your face to watch you, waiting for the way your eyes start to roll in the back of your head and waiting for the beautiful flutter of your pussy on his cock to let him know when you’re going to come.

“Andrei,” you whine, your grip in his hair loosening a little. “I’m so close.”

“I’ve got you,” he swears. He means it in every way possible. “Take what you need.” He punctuates his statement by burying his face in your neck and sucking on that sensitive spot he found last time, and it has you clenching around him in seconds, crying out as you pulse around him, body seizing as your orgasm washes over.

He has to take control then, gripping your hips and fucking you through it the way he knows you like, and it’s not long before he’s following behind you, pressing you down onto his cock as he pushes his pelvis upward, sealing the two of you together as he fills you up with his come, pulse hammering so hard in his body he can feel it in his ears.

As your orgasms subside, gently, he rubs up and down your back, pressing kisses to the nape of your neck and collarbone, happy to just sit here with you on top of him until you’re ready to move.

Eventually, you speak, voice a little raspy when you say “I think I need another shower after that.”

Andrei laughs, slowly standing and wrapping your legs around his waist, still fully seated inside you. “I think shower sex sounds like an excellent idea.”

The longer you stay with him, you two start to develop the beginnings of a routine together, and Andrei finds himself clinging to it like a lifeline.

In the mornings, you’re usually up first, wandering to some part of his massive house and drinking a steaming cup of tea or coffee, and it feels a bit like a game, Andrei wandering after you through his house to find where you’ve situated yourself for that morning. You usually only drink half of whatever you’ve made that morning, and when he finds you, he drinks the rest, still warm, before he takes your hand and drags you into the shower.

The first morning he did it, you pushed him to the built in shower bench and sank to your knees, took him in your mouth until he saw stars and came deep down your throat with a loud groan, repeating “Almaznyy” over and over until you took pity on him and released him from your mouth with a soft “pop,” the water trailing over your face making you look like a damn goddess.

He came within like…five minutes, that first time. And though you clearly loved it and reveled in the effect you had on him, he would rather each time with you last longer than ten minutes, so he decided he wouldn’t let you take him in your mouth for a little while, especially if it meant saving what he had left of his pride and ego.

Sometimes, he would put you on the shower bench and get on his knees, burying his face between your thighs until you begged him for mercy. Other times, he pressed you against the tile wall, burying himself to the hilt and finding solace with you under the warm spray, filling you to the brim before fucking it deeper inside of you.

Then, he’d wrap you up in one of his big, fluffy towels and dry you off, pressing you against the bathroom sink and kissing you until your stomachs rumbled. After getting ready for the day, he’d drag you out of the bathroom and to the kitchen where either you or him would make breakfast for the both of you, and then he’d either go to his office and work for a bit, or get dressed to head to the arena.

If he stayed home to work, you’d either sit quietly with him in his office reading a book or sketching in a worn journal, earbuds in and playing music. He’d worried you’d be bored, but you assured him you were used to having to occupy yourself with things to do. That statement made him worry even more, but since you seemed to be fine, he didn’t push.

He’d work until there was nothing left for him to do, and he’d wait for you to either finish the chapter you were reading, or finish up the sketches in your journal. He had been tempted to ask you to see them, but given the way you hunched over your journal, like you’d been protecting it, he left it alone, figuring you’d share them with him if you wanted to.

You’d spend the rest of the day together either making lunch, going out to eat, or with Andrei taking you around the Raleigh or Durham areas on little dates. So far, he’d taken you to the science museum, the North Carolina Museum of Art, taken you on a pedal boat ride in Pullen Park, brought you to Drive Shack where you both surprisingly and unsurprisingly kicked his ass, given you’d pretty much done the same when you brought him to Chelsea Piers, and just last night, he’d taken you to Rush Hour Karting.

He’d been there when he was a rookie in development camp for the Hurricanes, and he hadn’t been back in quite some time. It was nice though, to head back and make new and equally as happy memories there with you. You kicked his ass in a couple of laps, and since you’d raced with other people, there had been a round where a sixteen year old practically wiped the floor with everyone else, and it had made you and Andrei laugh a little when he’d been ready to boast about it until he saw Andrei’s face and freaked out, asking for a picture.

Those days where he could work from home and just be around you, taking the rest of his day to spend time with you, bring you anywhere and everywhere and spoil you silly? Those were beginning to be his favorite kind of days.

On the days he would go into his office at the arena, though, there are still particular advantages.

Andrei leaves his black card behind, insisting that you take it and make use of it as you need or see fit.

The first morning he left it for you, he took it out of his wallet and put it down on the kitchen counter as he was heading out the door, and you just stared down at it, brow furrowed and lower lip jutting out in slight confusion.

“What is this for?” You had asked, holding it up in the air.

“For you,” he said, like it was obvious. “For you to use?”

You pursed your lips, placed it back down on the counter and slid it back to him. “No, it’s okay.”

He frowned, ditching his bag by the door and rounded the counter to you. “I want you to have it, malyshka,” he insists.

Your face scrunched up. “I know this next statement is going to sound weird, considering my job, and the circumstances of our…uh…relationship, but I don’t want your money, Andrei.”

“I understand, almaznyy,” he assured you. “But I don’t want you to spend your money. Not while you’re here with me,” he said, then tucked the card back in your hand.

You stared at it for a second, then looked back up at his face, a small frown still on your lips, and Andrei couldn’t help but laugh. He reached out, smoothed the wrinkle between your brows and cupped your face in his palm. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and then looked down at you with an amused smile.

“How about this,” he began, “Since you’ve appointed yourself as my assistant, why don’t you take care of a few tasks for me?” He gestured to the card in your hand with his chin. “Use the card to pay for them.”

A small smile crept up your face, and you tilted your head at him, intrigued. “And what tasks would you be referring to, Mr. Svechnikov?”

“I think you need a new uniform,” he said, keeping his tone playful. “Why don’t you go and find something nice to wear around our…home office.” He punctuated those last words with a wink, smirking when you giggled. “Whatever you like, whatever the price. Get yourself some office supplies while you’re at it too, hm?”

“Oh I see,” you said. “This is a company expense, is it?”

“More or less,” he nodded, dropping another kiss to your forehead. “But I want to see everything you buy when you buy it. Send me pictures so I can see, understand? ”

You agreed with that gorgeous cheshire smile of yours. “I do.”

And god if all the blood didn’t rush straight to his cock, picturing you in white as you say those words to him in another life, another time.

When he heads to the office, he purposefully takes his red Lamborghini to the rink, leaving you the safer options of his Mercedes or his BMW to use to go and complete your ‘daily tasks,’ and Andrei waits like an impatient teenager for those texts from you to come through.

He’s saved every single picture, and thank goodness he has, because the second he gets home from work, it’s like the two of you are instantly pulled together like magnets. No matter where you are in the house, he gravitates to you, and you go at it like rabbits until one of you gets hungry, or until you’re begging him for relief. The lingerie sets barely make it ten minutes without being absolutely torn to shreds.

Though he wasn’t sure where you’d bought them, he had half a mind to march into the store and demand to know why their fabrics were so flimsy.

He's torn the first few either at the waist or right down the crotch, and one of them he all but snapped the strap of the garter belt off, the strap basically now hanging by a thread. The only things that have managed to survive after your first couple of weeks with him are a baby pink lace set complete with garter belt and stockings, and the same set, but in crimson red.

“You’re doing it on purpose,” you accuse through heavy breathing later that night, eyeing the fallen scraps of black lace among the black satin dress on the floor. The only thing that had managed to survive tonight was your thigh high stockings, which Andrei found himself running his fingers over now, your legs draped in his lap.

“What do you mean?” He questions, thumbing at where the lace of your stockings met your inner thigh.

You shivered a little, but didn’t move away from his touch, “You’re ripping them on purpose so I have to buy more, and that means I have to use your card.”

He smiles, dancing his finger over the spot inside your thigh that he’d made red by rubbing his stubbly cheek against it as he licked at you for a blissful thirty minutes. “You caught me.”

“If you wanted to be a sugar daddy you could’ve just said so.” You say lazily, stretching your body out. You probably don’t mean for it to look so seductive, but Andrei’s hypnotized nonetheless.

“I didn’t want to be,” he says honestly. “But you changed my mind a little.”

“I figured,” you murmur, casting a glance to your bracelet. “But you like it, don’t you?”

“Like what?” He asks, tugging your legs and maneuvering you until you’re straddling him again.

“Providing, spoiling, ” you purr, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I like it when it’s you.” Andrei clarifies, tilting his chin up so he can press little kisses along your jaw. “Even if I have to fight you on it a little.”

“I don’t want a sugar daddy for money,” you drawl, pushing his hair away from his face.

He stares at you, confused. “Isn’t that what they’re for?”

“If I’m gonna have a sugar daddy, I want him for sugar.” You explain, “Not money.”

“Ya ne ponimayu, chto ty imeyesh' v vidu, detka.” I don’t understand what you mean baby.

You roll your eyes playfully, pulling his chin up and kissing him softly. He moans into your mouth, hands resting on your waist and bringing you closer. You tease him with your tongue running over his bottom lip before you pull away, sitting back a little.

“That kind of sugar,” you say softly, running your thumb over his bottom lip.

It takes him a few seconds, but then it clicks, and he flashes you a cheeky grin. “Well I’ve given you plenty of that, too, haven’t I?”

You shrug, reaching between you to grab his stiff cock and bring it back to your pussy, slipping him back inside of you and sinking down slowly, “A little more wouldn’t hurt.”

He’s immediately scooting back against the pillows and then his hands are on your thighs, anchoring you to him while you ride him, beginning your fourth round of the night.

After a few weeks of you staying with him, you approach him in his home office one day as he’s about to get off of a call. There’s an apprehensive look on your face as you linger in the doorway, clearly not wanting to interrupt, but he waves you inside anyway, gesturing for you to sit on the couch against the wall.

You obey, waiting patiently until he’s hanging up and placing his phone beside his computer to stand from your seat and approach the other side of his desk.

“What can I do for you, almaznyy?” He asks, leaning back in his chair.

“It’s probably a silly question,” you preface, “But I figured I would ask just in case.”

He nods, folding his hands on his stomach. “Okay.”

“I uh…me being here isn’t interfering with your holiday plans, right? I don’t know if you do anything for Thanksgiving since you started living here, but since it’s in a week or so, I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t overstaying my welcome.”

His brow furrows, mouth turning down into a frown. “You’re perfectly fine,” he assures. “I used to go to my coach’s house, but I haven't in years.” He pauses then, guilt suddenly coursing through his veins. “Am I…I’m not keeping you from your family, am I?”

You shake your head almost immediately, a strange look crossing your features. “No you’re not, we haven’t - I mean, we don’t celebrate. Haven’t in a bit.”

Andrei nods in response, but the guilt is still there, suddenly eating at his insides.

He’d been so wrapped up in you, so happy with your routines and the little corner of the world you’d managed to carve out for yourselves that he didn’t even think about the fact that he could’ve been keeping you away from your friends and family.

Or that he’s technically been keeping you away from his friends and family, too.

His mother’s been living with Evgeny the last couple of years, moving in to help Sara with their two year old and three month old babies, and his dad’s still back in Moscow, mostly by choice to help with Andrei and Evgeny’s grandparents. Evgeny and Sara sort of know he’s been seeing someone, but he hasn’t divulged much more, and he has no idea what you’ve been sharing with your family in turn.

Plus…he’s probably keeping you from other clients, which isn’t his favorite thing to think about, at all, but he can’t ignore the circumstances of how the two of you met, or how you came into his life.

So as much as it pains him to say it, he doesn’t want to be like the beast keeping you locked in his castle against your will, so he takes a deep breath, and says “Almaznyy, if you need to go home, or if you need to go back, then-”

“I don’t,” you interject. “I’m good here.”

Oh…okay…

“No one’s missing you?” He asks. “You don’t have other clients?”

“I’m good here, Andrei,” you repeat, this time a little softer, rounding the desk. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Of course I’m okay,” he assures you, reaching for your waist and pulling you into his lap. “I was the one who asked you to be here with me. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want you with me.”

You nod, body relaxing into his embrace.

There’s another sharp pain in his chest, and he rests his head resting in the crook of your neck, breathing you in. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

He can feel you tense for a second in surprise. “For what?”

“I didn’t think about…other people. I didn’t mean to be selfish, but I was, and I’m sorry.”

“Oh Andrei,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers scratching lightly at the base of his scalp. “I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. I just…I didn’t realize how long I’d been staying here with you, and when I did, I knew I needed to check in. That’s all.”

“I like having you here,” he confesses. “It feels…”

“Natural,” you finish for him. “I know, I feel the same.”

You both settle into a small silence, Andrei content to just hold you for a second, to stay in this little bubble with you he’d built before he’d been forced to remember the two of you weren’t actually alone in this world together.

“What about Christmas?” He eventually asks you.

You nod. “My family does celebrate it, kind of. But I would have to go home for that.”

“I would too.” He confirms. “We technically celebrate Christmas twice. Once for western Christmas on the twenty fifth, and again in January for Russian Christmas.”

You lean back a little, brushing his hair away from his face, bracelet glinting in the sunlight filtering in through the window. “Guess we’ll have to make the best of this next month or so.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaning up to kiss you softly. “I guess so.”

A pang of sadness hits him, already not looking forward to having to let you go.

Read Part Two Here.

#andrei svechnikov #anderi svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov fic #carolina hurricanes #mendeshoney masterlist

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niftynellie · 1 year

Text

• I’ll Wear It Forever •

Pairings: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Mum!reader

Warnings: brief mention of absent father, Fluff

‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊

“I wanna push” Daisy, your four year old daughter whined as she rocked back and fourth in the trolley seat. You stood back up from grabbing some pasta from the bottom shelf. “Not today baby, we’ve gotta be quick so we can go home and get ready for dinner” you explained starting to push the trolley.

The two of you were on a tight schedule, you’d agreed to have dinner with Trent that night but with you being so busy recently you hadn’t had much time to do the food shop for the week until that afternoon. You knew you had to be out of the shop in at least thirty minutes if you were going to make it back home in time to get ready, but your daughter seemed to not really understand that point.

“Is Trent coming?” She asked drumming her little fingers against the handle, “mmhmm” you nodded reaching up for some sauce. She smiled, Daisy had met Trent quite a few times once before you started dating and a couple times after, you’d been trying to ease her into your new relationship slowly as for the four years she’d been alive it had only ever been you and her, you didn’t want to rush her into anything when you and Trent started dating a few months back. At first you weren’t sure how she would take the this new person being around more and more, but the usually stubborn little girl had warmed to the Liverpool player rather quickly.

Daisy sat quietly for a couple minutes as you managed to finish grabbing the last few things you needed. Until she started rambling on about which dress she wanted wear and how she wanted you to do her hair once you were home. You nodded and agreed to everything she said, although you weren’t really listening as you weaved through all the people clogging up the aisle. coming to a stop at the end of the aisle realising the line for the checkouts had stretched further back.

“Mummy we need this” Daisy said, her small hand reaching out to the shelf beside her trying to grab at something. You looked over at what she was trying to get and saw that it was a two pack of smiley face bracelets. “Dais’ you have enough bracelets at home” you denied smiling at her as you poked the three bracelets she already had displayed on her wrist. “Not for me” she groaned, trying to stretch further to grab the packet “for Trent, he needs”

Your heart squealed a little, there was no way you couldn’t give in to her in that moment. Daisy always found a way to exploit your soft side, and her love for Trent was the weakest point of that. “Okay, we’ll get them and you can give him one tonight. Yeah?” You reached over and helped her grab the packet and she smiled giddily. “Yeah”

+++

A couple hours later, you’d parked the car beside the restaurant where Trent waited inside. You helped Daisy out of the car hoisting her up onto your hip.

Inside the restaurant was busy, you walked in and tried to look around to spot where he was sat but with the dim lighting that was proving difficult. Until you felt Daisy wriggle from your grip and squeal, “Trent” she dropped to the floor and pointed you followed her steps and quickly saw where she was heading a smile growing on your face as you met his gaze.

“Hey Munch” Trent greeted getting up out of his seat and kneeling catching the little girl in a hug as she ran straight into him. He stood up holding Daisy as you were right behind her, he leant over and kissed you only to have your faces pushed apart by Daisy “yuck” she grumbled making both you and Trent laugh. “Oi let me kiss your mum in peace little lady” He teased poking the four year olds cheeks as she shook her head.

Trent put Daisy down giving you one last kiss “Hi babe” he mumbled hugging you sweetly before the three of you got back into the booth he had previously been sat in, Daisy adamant she wanted to sit next to Trent. So you sat opposite the pair though Trent made sure to hook his leg around yours under the table so you didn’t feel left out.

Daisy climbed onto Trent’s lap, making herself comfortable as she rooted around in her jacket pockets looking for the bracelet you’d gotten earlier. “Whatcha looking for munch?” Trent asked his conversation with you about his last game being put on pause. “Got you a present” she said as she finally found what she was looking for, Trent gave you a confused look but you simply smiled back resting your chin on your hands.

She opened the palm of her hand and showed Trent the bracelet, he smiled as wide as you’ve ever seen him glancing between you and your daughter “for me?” Daisy nodded shoving it towards him. He carefully took it, pulling it onto his wrist admiring it. “I love it munch” he said pulling Daisy into a hug. She giggled and you swore your heart did at least forty flips in a couple seconds.

“Look we match” Daisy explained as Trent’s hold on her loosened she held up her wrist he gently held it to look. “You have to wear it if we’re friends” she said firmly her hopeful eyes looking up at him. He nodded understanding, before his eyes looked to you with a glint of something more than just pure happiness. “Then I’ll wear it forever” he said eyes not leaving yours, he held his pinky up to the small girl and she wrapped hers around his.

“Promise”

#football #football imagine #trent alexander arnold imagine #football fanfic #trent alexander arnold #Trent Alexander Arnold fic #Trent Alexander Arnold fluff #Trent Alexander Arnold oneshot #football fluff #footballer fluff #footballer fic #footballer imagine

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be-with-me-so-happily · 2 years

Text

Not What We Bargained For

PART 1 of 2

|| PART 2 ||

<< Request >> "If it's possible, could you make a story about harry hating you and you didn't know why and then one day you have to share a hotel room with him and you find him jacking off in bed!?! Smut obviously and a fluff ending please?" @pandisasterthatlived

~~~~~

Summary: Harry dislikes YN. She dislikes him. As long as they avoid each other, they can manage to be in the same office. But an unexpected work trip creates more tension than anticipated.

A/N: This was fun to write! I've been wanting to do an enemies to lovers story and this was the perfect way for me to dip my toes into that trope. Hopefully you enjoy it. Might do a pt. 2 later?

>> Warnings: some explicit language, workplace rivalry & jealousy, sexual tension, self-pleasure, oral (male receiving), mild fingering, unprotected penetration

~~~~~

She isn't supposed to be here.

Harry is cursing Doug for his weak immune system, which is currently being attacked by the flu. He should've sucked it up, this is too important. Of course, that's a selfish thought, and Harry knows that, but he can't stop it from popping into his head ever since he was told that YN will be the one to take Doug's place.

He can't stand her. He basically hasn't since the beginning. When she first walked into the office, it seemed like she would be a pleasant presence to have around, another pleasant person to work with. But he was wrong.

Right off the bat, she is rude, and ignores Harry if there happens to be a moment that they are near each other, which he tries to avoid as much as possible. He is one of the top associates. It would only help her career if she was willing to work with him. She doesn't seem to care about anyone else's ideas, she just presents her own as soon as a question is asked in a meeting, and she is constantly taking assignments that could be covered by anyone else. She just comes across as so arrogant, and it does nothing but annoy him at this point.

Why would he want to work with someone like that? To work with an outside hire who thought she was better than everyone else as soon as she got tnere? He wouldn't. He doesn't. And he can't stand the fact that he is being forced to work with her now. He can't stand her.

"Have you gone over the presentation? Read the notes?"

"Yes, Styles. I have. I am prepared."

She will have to prove that in the meeting. However, he doesn't really want to give her much of a chance to do so. This was his assignment. He deserves to present it. He deserves the credit and recognition.

"Just so you know, I'm taking the lead on this."

"I figured as much."

"Good." He responds. "I'm glad we're on the same page."

She sighs and out of the corner of his eye, he catches YN rolling hers.

"If you don't think you can handle it-"

"Seriously? I've done this plenty of times before. This isn't my first presentation!" She snaps back, taking him a little by surprise. He's never heard her raise her voice, but then again he isn't around her much to hear it.

"Sure. But I won't need much help, yeah?"

"Whatever. Fine by me." She responds, crossing her arms and staring out the window.

He rolls his eyes at the way she is pouting. She obviously can't handle that she isn't in charge of this assignment. It serves her right, always trying to one-up everyone else and not being a team player. This is a taste of her own medicine.

"I can pretty much close this deal on my own."

~~~~~

"What our company is presenting to you is an opportunity to grow your business with-"

"Growth, Ms. YLN? Can you guarantee growth?"

"Well, yes-"

"Thank you, Ms. YLN…" Harry clenches his jaw in her direction. "Mr. Tills, the data speaks for itself. What Downings & Co. can guarantee is that your business is worth the risk for the company. And if you consider the ramifications of a drastic change in the financial climate, I believe it is worth the risk for your business to let Downings & Co. oversee things."

Harry glares right at YN as soon as the other members in the meeting are distracted in conversation with each other.

How dare she? This was his presentation. He was the lead and she had no right to add anything else. In fact, she caused doubt and more questions to be raised. He just hopes that she has not ruined his chance to acquire this client.

"Let us have a moment to converse, if you don't mind." Mr. Tills requests.

"Of course." Harry agrees, gathering all of his notes and throwing another quick glare in YN's direction.

They both walk out of the conference room and take a seat just outside.

"What the hell was that?" He scolds.

"Excuse me?"

"You did not need to add anything to the pitch, YN! I had it under control." He begins to raise his voice, taking a deep breath as he notices the receptionist's quick glance in his direction.

"I was just trying to help."

"I told you that I don't need your help."

Although she is quiet, he can hear her scoff, and her body turns to face him.

"You know what, Styles?" She whispers, her eyes scanning the lobby to be certain that no one else is in earshot. "Fuck you."

"What?" He replies, his brow furrowing deep at her astonishing statement, especially in this professional setting.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I said fuck you."

"Me?" He pulls his lips in and does a scan of their surroundings too. "I had this. It was going perfectly, until you caused them to question the growth of their company."

"You weren't doing as well as you think." She quietly chuckles.

"Oh, because you think you can do everything better than anyone else?"

"No…" She huffs. "Because I saw what they-"

"I don't want to hear it, YN. You better hope we don't-... I don't… lose this deal now."

She turns her body away from his and they sit in silence, waiting for the board's decision to be made.

A few minutes later, the conference room door opens and the pair are motioned back inside.

"Mr. Styles and Ms. YLN, we have considered all you have proposed and have agreed to take up the offer."

Harry manages to keep his composure and continue with professionalism.

"Fantastic. I believe that this will be a very beneficial partnership, Mr. Tills."

Another meeting is set up for tomorrow to go over and sign paperwork, so the job is finished for tonight, and they both head back to the hotel.

~~~~~

As the silverware clanks against their plates at the hotel restaurant, the silence feels refreshing to Harry. At least he doesn't have to hear her speak or engage in any kind of awkward conversation.

He whines to himself as he hears YN suddenly clear her throat. He's not surprised she can't keep her mouth shut, or her opinions to herself.

"Look, I really tho-"

"Honestly, I'm not in the mood to talk about it. Yeah?" He interrupts. "I'm just glad it worked out in the end."

"Yeah." She responds. "Now you can celebrate."

"No." He shakes his head.

"Wait, what? You're not gonna celebrate because… why? Because you thought I was going to ruin everything for you? Even though I didn't…"

He wants to argue with her so badly. This is not all about her, as she makes everything out to be. But they are in public, and he is not about to make a scene. So, he decides to bite his tongue and give her a quick honest answer as politely as he can. He lowers his fork, wipes his hand on his napkin, and clasps his hands in his lap.

"No." He reiterates. "I don't celebrate 'til the deal is fully done."

"But we-... I mean, you…"

"I wait 'til everything is official. Signatures and stamps and all that shit."

"Oh." She sits up straighter in her chair.

"What?" He asks sternly.

"Nothing." She pulls her lips inward and drops her gaze. It might be the first time Harry has ever seen her look like this. She almost looks insecure.

"What?" He asks again.

"I just…" She shrugs, gaze still downward. Her new demeanor is completely throwing him off. "I celebrate too early, compared to the 'Styles way'... I guess."

Harry returns his hands to his utensils, shoving a large fork full of his dinner into his mouth.

"That's 'cause you're too cocky." He mumbles, enjoying the fact that his food is muffling his words.

"What's that?" She asks, leaning closer to potentially make out the statement she hopes he will reiterate.

"I said… I said that I guess I'm too cocky." He lies, starting to clench his teeth as he notices that her reaction is giving away that she agrees.

"Well…" She shrugs. "We have our own ways of doing things."

"Certainly do." He replies, beginning to see her shoulders relax a bit, but he quickly straightens up and pushes his plate to the side. "I'm finished."

"Oh! Okay. I'm almost done too." She replies, stabbing as much food as she can with her fork.

"No, please, don't rush." He holds his hand up to reassure her that she doesn't need to hurry, hoping she will listen so that there isn't an awkward elevator ride and walk back to the room. He shudders at the odd thought of how that scene would look to others. As if they were a couple. "M'just gonna take a shower. I'll see you back in the room."

"Right." She nods. "See you back there then."

~~~~~

With a shirt and sweats on, and a towel drying his hair, Harry walks out of the bathroom and almost collides into YN.

"Bloody hell!" He blurts out.

This obviously wasn't the original plan. Harry was supposed to be sharing a room with Doug, someone he would most likely have been spending time with at the bar, being wingman to each other whenever someone caught their eye.

But Doug isn't here, it's YN instead, and because the universe seems to hate Harry, the company wasn't able to find her a separate room.

"Oh shit!" She responds, taking a few more steps away from him. "I just got back. I didn't realize you were right there."

He is thankful he didn't risk it and walk out in a towel, or how he usually walks around. Naked.

"Right."

She places her jacket and bag next to her suitcase, and sits on her bed to remove her heels.

"Stupid fucking things." She states, tossing them to the side and massaging her feet. "Is the bathroom free now?"

He simply nods and she swiftly grabs some clothes, heading straight in there and closing the door.

While he hears the water running, Harry sends a quick, scolding text to Doug, and puts an alarm on his phone.

He puts it down on the nightstand and turns his lamp off before he brings his hands up underneath his head.

His eyes close, and he replays the meeting in his head. He critiques himself on the areas he could have improved, still mentally patting himself on the back for the win, and clenches his jaw as he remembers YN's interruption. One thing pops in his mind that he didn't think anything of before. It was the look of embarrassment on her face when he glared at her. He attributes it to the fact that she couldn't handle a bruise to her ego, but he can't seem to shake the small feeling that it may have actually been genuine.

The bathroom door suddenly swings open, with the scent of lavender and vanilla floating through the air as she returns her work outfit to her suitcase. He subtly opens his eyes, curious to see what YN looks like in a normal setting. Well, in a 'not-the-office' setting.

Harry can't help but notice the way her wet hair falls down and frames her face, no longer being confined into a ponytail. He notices the freckles on her cheeks that are usually hidden by her makeup. He also notices how smooth her bare skin looks, now that it's showing off as a cotton shirt and shorts sit nicely on her body.

He had already admitted to himself, on the first day they met, that she was attractive. She has always looked presentable and professional, and attractive. But this is different. He has never seen her look so natural, there's no reason he would have, and he is taken back by how much he likes seeing her this way.

He is brought out of his thoughts as soon as he hears the creaking of her bed. She turns off the lamp closest to her, but with the city lights peeking through the small opening of the curtains, he can just make out her silhouette.

"Goodnight." She softly speaks.

"Yeah. Goodnight." He replies, turning away onto his side and letting his mind wander as he drifts off to sleep.

~~~~~

Harry wakes up and notices that the sliver of the window he can see still displays a dark sky. He checks the bedside clock to confirm that he has only been asleep for a few hours. He is annoyed that he has randomly woken up, but more so than that, he is annoyed that he has woken up with his dick stiff and throbbing.

He's a man, this has obviously happened to him before, but tonight's is painfully desperate for some relief and he knows he will not be able to return to sleep without taking care of himself.

He turns over to evaluate YN's current position and finds her asleep, facing the other wall. He begins to weigh his options, but his hand uncontrollably makes its way down to the bulge in his sweats, and it feels too good to discontinue those motions.

He glances back over to YN, letting out a heavy breath to test her ability to stay in slumber. When she doesn't react, he slides his hand into his briefs and continues to palm himself, breathing out heavily at the touch.

It feels too good, and he is desperate for relief. He needs it now. He can be quiet, and can stop if he suspects she is waking up. Plus, the risk of getting caught is surprisingly making this all the more enticing for him right now.

He brings his hand out of his pants, pulling them down to free his throbbing dick from its confines, and spits in his hands for some lubrication.

As he checks on YN's position once again, becoming more aroused at the sight of an attractive woman laying there, he begins to stroke himself. The immediate pleasure that his motions create cause him to bite his lower lip and buck up his hips. His thumb rubs over his tip and he can feel himself leaking already. He manages to pull his other lip inward just in time to muffle a moan, and he begins to thrust his hips up to the rhythm of his strokes.

But as good as it feels, he can't seem to get himself over the edge. He spits in his hand for more lubrication and pumps faster, and an uncontrollable, but quiet, moan is released from his lips.

"Come on…" He whispers, tilting his head back further against the pillow and squeezing his eyes shut even tighter.

"Can't close the deal?"

"Shit!" Harry immediately stops stroking himself and his free hand flies up to slap his face.

This is just perfect. Not only does he need release from such an intense erection, but now the one person he can't stand has caught him in the act. Everything about this moment is painful.

He turns his head and peeks through his fingers, just making out her figure and her face staring back at him.

"I… fuck… I…" He stumbles, his ego fading and being overshadowed by embarrassment.

"Need some help?" She chuckles. "I can help."

"Oh fuck off, you're not making this any better for me." He states, an intense blush raging in his cheeks as the intense erection rages within his grasp.

"I could make it better. If you want me to."

"You're not serious! Are you?" He asks, astonished by what he thinks, and also sort of hopes, that she is offering.

"Well, if you can't do the job yourself…" She laughs. "I might as well take the lead on this."

He groans, aching for release.

She shrugs. "It's funny how you didn't need my help earlier in the meeting, but now you clearly do."

"It's not funny." He frowns as he experiences her arrogance yet again.

"It's just too damn bad I don't have the right skills for the job." She adds.

His frown turns into a smirk, actually delighted by her teasing nature. "I can sense your sarcasm."

She shakes her head, looking his body up and down as he lays there on the bed.

"And I can sense your desperation."

Harry clears the lump in his throat. He knows she is being witty, giving him the same back talk that he's given her, but god he thinks it's sexy. Saying she'll help him cum almost makes him explode right there, but he suddenly realizes that he wants what she is offering. Wants and desperately needs at this point.

"I'm very good." She chuckles. "But if you don't think you can handle it-"

"I can!" He interrupts. "I want to."

YN crawls her way onto his bed and closer to him, making her way to lay over his legs, as his breathing picks up its pace.

She gets positioned over his tip and flickers her gaze up to him as she bites her lower lip. He squirms as he lays there, desperate for her to please him.

Her gaze drops down to his dick, and she grabs ahold of his base as her smooth tongue glides up his length. He moans out, not meaning to make so much noise, but the way it feels against his skin sends him into a tizzy already.

"Oh my god."

She licks up one more time, before pushing her lips around him and taking his dick in her mouth. From the feeling alone, one hand jolts down and entangles in her hair, causing her to hum against him.

"Fuck, it feels good." He admits. And it does. It feels better than he would've thought. She takes him in so easily, her soft lips sliding around him as his dick enters between them.

She suddenly pulls off of him and sits back on her knees, pumping him slowly with her hand.

"You know, you're a major asshole to me."

His gaze immediately shoots down to meet hers.

"Umm…" he begins to pant, his dick twitching in her grasp and his heart racing at her statement.

"I haven't done anything to deserve that." She frowns.

He would assume she is furious, except he notices the way her teeth are digging into her bottom lip. Instinct wants him to argue, but his body wants him to shut up so she will continue the pleasuring she is giving him. His body wins over.

"No." He replies, his strong palms moving down to grab onto the part of her knees that are just within reach. "You haven't."

"And you haven't really done anything to deserve this…" She proclaims, squeezing her hand just enough around him to cause a buck up of his hips.

"No, I… haven't…" He breathes out.

"Good. I'm glad we're on the same page."

She quickly drops herself back down and wastes no time taking his dick back into her pretty little mouth.

The sensation flows over him and he throws his head back into the pillow.

"Fuck." He whispers.

The way she begins to use her mouth is as if she knows what he needs. She swirls her tongue exactly how he likes it, and moves her hand to cup his balls, which causes one hand to grab onto her hair again as the other grips onto the pillow underneath his head.

"YN… you're…" He grunts. "Fuck, you're good at this."

Once again, she hums against him, and the vibration ignites his body. It feels so good for him, and he feels his body tensing. He wants to last longer, but with his hand having started things off, and her amazing oral skills, he knows he cannot hold back much longer.

"Shit!" He growls.

"Hm?" She hums, her eyes snapping up to his as her mouth continues to do its work.

"I usually… last longer." He growls. "But m'bout to cum."

By the look in her eyes, he can tell she is smiling around his dick, and his body bucks up.

"Where… can I…" He tries to breathe out.

YN gives his balls a subtle squeeze and moves her hand on top of the one grabbing her hair. She stops her motions, stabilizing herself with her hands on his thighs, and he begins to thrust.

"Oh my god." He moans out.

He continues to pump in and out, as she effortlessly takes him as deep as he can go. It's perfect. She whines out, and his eyes shoot down to her in concern, but he sees her eyes closed. She isn't resisting. She isn't uncomfortable. She's enjoying it, and that sends him over the edge.

His movements get sloppy and his entire body clenches. He squeezes his eyes shut and bites his lower lip as his release rapidly spills down her throat.

He slows down his pace and hears her whimper as she keeps her mouth surrounding him, massaging his thighs as he works through the sensational orgasm coursing through him.

As he finishes giving her every last drop, he releases the hand grasping her hair, and she sits back up onto her knees.

"Fuck." He pants, eyes still squeezed shut. "That was..."

"Outstanding?" She chuckles, and he opens his eyes to see a wide grin displayed on her plump-lipped face, instantly matching it with his own. Usually her arrogance would annoy the hell out of him, but she has every right to be. It really was outstanding.

"Yeah." He nods.

She begins to move around his body, but he gently grabs her wrists and pulls her closer, causing her to straddle his waist.

"What are you doing?" She gasps, propping herself up with her hands on his chest.

"What if I told you… that I want to flip you over right now and give you a good fuck?"

Her mouth drops open slightly. "What?"

Harry's eyes take in her body. She's still wearing her cotton shirt and shorts, and he is so tempted to see what's underneath. He begins to softly glide his palms against her thighs, running them over her hips and up to her waist.

Her breath hitches and he smirks.

"You did something for me…"

"I did it out of necessity…"

"Really? It's not part of your job description to wrap those pretty pink lips around my dick and suck me off."

"Well, it was a lot of work." She smirks, causing his own breath to hitch at her quick wit. He's finding her sexier by the minute.

"Well, you have one satisfied customer."

"Of course I do! That was some of my best work. I knew you'd like it." She smirks again, causing him to grab tighter on her waist and she lets out a sweet subtle gasp. He can tell she is pretending to resist, because by the heat he can feel between her legs, he knows she wants it, and it makes him want it even more.

"I fucking loved it."

His hands dip under her shirt after seeing her smile, and he is enticed by the smoothness of her skin. Without warning, she grabs the hem of her shirt and swiftly pulls it over her head, tossing it to the side.

Harry licks his lips at the sight of her beautiful body, his eyes taking in every inch of the smooth skin. Never in a million years did he think he'd ever be watching her half naked body as it slowly begins to grind on him.

His gaze moves up to her lips. Those pretty, plump lips that were just taking him in and pleasuring him moments ago.

He can't help himself, wanting to know what they feel and taste like, so he pulls her down on top of him, their chests flush with each other.

One palm reaches around to the back of her head, and there is absolutely no resistant as he smashes their lips together. They do taste good, just as he thought.

An arm wraps around her waist and he swiftly rolls over, keeping their lips together as he hovers over her.

His index finger runs down her body and teases the hem of her panties. She bites her lower lip and he slips his hand inside, running it over her center.

"You're already so wet." He whispers, leaning down and placing another kiss on her lips. He smirks when she responds with a whimper, as he swipes his fingers along her folds once more.

He begins to circle her clit and she moans out, causing a twitch in his dick at the sound.

"Oh my god."

He plays with it one more time, then slides his fingers inside of her and curls them up. She moans again, bucking up her hips as he pumps his digits in and out.

"Fuck, YN, I need to be inside you." He exclaims, with a low and deep exhale. "I need my dick inside of you."

"Please." She whines. "I need it too."

He chuckles at her pleas. He has to admit, he likes seeing her like this- squirming at his touch, yearning for more of him, laying there exposed underneath him.

"You were so cocky before, YN. Now… it looks like you're the one who needs the help…"

"Come on, Harry, please!" She proclaims.

That's the first time she has called him 'Harry' and suddenly a rush of euphoria washes over him. It was such a beautiful sound. The desire to hear, see, and feel more from her begins to overwhelm him.

He sits back and grabs the sides of her panties, slowly removing them from her legs. It's a thong. A sexy, little thong. He's glad he didn't know that she was wearing this during the meeting, because he would've been dazed by the thought, and he's confident he will be distracted tomorrow thinking about another one sitting right down the middle of her ass cheeks.

Another twitch of his dick brings him back to the physical activities, so he quickly removes his sweats and briefs.

He teases his tip at her entrance, coating himself with her wetness before pushing himself in.

It feels good. Being inside her feels really good, and he immediately begins thrusting, as if he is smothering his dick with the feeling of her tight, coated walls.

She lets out a strong whine and he is instantly snapped out of the bliss.

"Shit. Y'alright?" He asks, keeping his voice tender with concern.

"Yeah." She pants. "It's just… I knew you were big, since my mouth was just on you, but… I just need a second… to get used to it this way."

The compliment leaving her lips makes his dick twitch yet again, and he adjusts himself so he can slowly, steadily slide in and out of her.

"That better?" He asks, gazing into her eyes to gauge her level of comfort.

"Yes." She nods in response. "And I want you deeper."

"Yeah?" He smirks. "Want my dick to fill you up?"

"Yes!" She moans, her chest moving quickly with each of his movements.

He pushes her knees closer to her chest as he begins to thrust in deeper.

"Yeah." She moans again, the sound inflating every part of his ego. He actually likes knowing he's pleasing her more than he thought he would. More than be usually does during sex. "Just like that, Harry. Oh my god."

"You're so fucking tight, YN. You're squeezing around me perfectly."

"It feels so good." She whimpers.

"How good? Tell me how good I'm making you feel."

"So good, Harry!" She moans, locking her eyes on his as the praise spills out of her mouth. "You're making me feel so good!"

"What else will make you feel good, baby?"

"Faster." She bites her lip for a moment. "Faster and harder."

Her request sends shivers down his spine. She wants it all and he is so intoxicated by her that he's ready to give it all to her.

"Fuck, YN." He grunts, feeling her straighten her legs to rest on his shoulders. "Fuck I'll do it all for you."

He grabs onto her thighs and begins to pound into her.

"Oh god, Harry!"

"Mmm. So fucking good."

He gives everything he has with each thrust in, pulling out quickly so he can do it all again.

He looks back down at her and feels the indescribable desire to be closer. He wants to feel every inch of her.

He maneuvers his hands between her legs and lowers himself down, resting one forearm on the side of her head, as he uses the opposite to hold onto the back of her thigh.

Both of her hands reach around and tangle themselves in his curls. As he continues his deep, hard, fast thrusts, his breath quickens at the intense desire to take her completely.

"God, I want to ravish you." He admits, unsure how his confession will be perceived.

"I can't guarantee I won't scratch and bite…" She replies, causing his hand to instinctually grab tighter onto the back of her thigh.

"But I can guarantee you'll cum."

His lips swiftly move to her neck, sucking every spot he comes in contact with, not worried about the marks that might show during tomorrow's meeting.

She grabs his shoulders and runs her nails down his back, shooting a sensation through his entire body. Once again, it's as if she knows exactly what he wants, likes, and needs.

He kisses back up her neck to her lips again, parting them with his tongue and gliding his in.

Their tongues move in synchronization, as his hands roam her body. His fingers meet with her nipple, and the high-pitched whimper that leaves her lips is enough to encourage him to play with it.

She squirms and moans, causing him to remove his lips from hers and join his hand. His tongue immediately licks her nipple, and a pleasure-filled shriek echoes through the entire room. His palm grabs her breast and provides a better vantage point to suck all around the breast.

Her breaths and whimpers are all he can hear as he moves over every inch of her smooth skin, and gives everything his dick can provide her.

"Ohhh. Harry, I'm…"

"Tell me." He grunts into her ear.

"I'm gonna cum."

"Cum… YN, I wanna…" He grunts again as his movements get sloppy. "I wanna feel it!"

He props her leg on his shoulder and brings that hand up to her jaw, pressing his lips firmly against hers again.

She lets out a vibrant moan, one that could set every fiber of his body ablaze.

"Oh my god, Harry!"

"Yes. Fuck yes."

Her hands run up and grip his hair, tugging on it as her body squirms beneath him.

"H-... Har… oh god!"

Her hips suddenly buck up, getting him as deep as he can go before she drops down onto the bed after one last, beautiful moan of his name.

"Harry!"

"I'm close, baby, I can… in you?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck I'm gonna give you… all of it."

"I want all of it." She whispers.

With that, he spills into her once again, reducing his thrusts as he melts down on top of her, kissing her neck as they both work through their orgasms together.

"Harry, that was…"

"Outstanding?" He chuckles against her skin and she breathes out a laugh of her own.

"Yeah. Outstanding."

He rolls off, leaving them both laying on their backs in bliss, and trying to catch their breath.

"You can, umm, stay in my bed tonight… if you want."

She rolls onto her side and props herself up on her elbow.

"Mr. Styles wants to cuddle?" She giggles.

The sassy, yet sexy expression on her face causes a blush to cover his.

"Forget it." He responds, embarrassment filling him as the reality, and original cause, of what happened reenters his mind.

She scoots closer, running one hand through his tossled hair, then cupping his cheek as she places a gentle kiss on his lips.

He can't fully comprehend what he's feeling, definitely not in any coherent matter at the moment, but he melts at her touch. Then he melts more as she looks into his eyes with the sweetest gaze.

"You want to be big spoon or little spoon, Harry?"

~~~~~

Harry is pulled out of his sleep to the sound of beeping and YN calling his name.

"What?" He asks.

"Can you turn off your fucking alarm?"

"M'sorry." He fumbles around on the nightstand next to him, barely opening his eyes enough to silence his phone.

"Thank you!" She sternly exclaims.

He finally blinks his eyes open to find YN laying in the other bed, hands covering her face and she begins to blink her eyes open. He frowns, not remembering when she left his bed, and a little confused as to why.

"Well good morning to you too." He chuckles, propping his head up on his hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Uh, happy that this deal will be done and that I can go back home…"

"Well, yeah." He chuckles again. "But, I mean, how are you feeling about last night?"

She twists her head in his direction and gives him an unsettling frown.

"Dinner was fine."

"Right…" He dramatically rolls his eyes.

"I had a good sleep… if that's what you mean..?"

His heart sinks and stomach twists into knots, as she raises up and gets off her bed, walking towards her suitcase and grabbing her toiletry bag.

Does she regret it? Was she actually disappointed? Or is she just that heartless? She can't be. Not the way she was treating him last night. That definitely wasn't heartless.

"Right, but-"

He scoots closer to the edge of the bed and his hip slides over a large damp spot on his sheets. He looks down and feels around for a clue as to what it is and why she is suddenly acting a little cold towards him.

He examines the bed, the room, and her figure as she heads towards the bathroom.

He suddenly realizes what's going on, and his heart stops as he buries his face in his pillow.

She is in her bed. She is wearing her cotton shirt and shorts. He is wearing his briefs and sweats, and there's a damp spot on his bed.

They didn't have sex.

He looks up to catch one last glimpse of her before she walks into the other room, and his stomach drops.

Nope, they didn't have sex.

He just had a wet dream.

~~~~~

If you like what I post, and want to just send some extra support, I have a ko-fi account. Even the smallest amount is greatly appreciated. There is no obligation or expectation to donate, because I am honestly just so grateful that you're here! 💗 Bee xx

~~~~~

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cheolsfae · 2 months

Note

hello can you do jake as a bf please?

Sure! Celtic cross for this one! Sorry for the swearing.

*Disclaimer: Solely for shits and giggles! Please do not take this seriously. For entertainment purposes only.*

Signs: Leo, Aquarius, Scorpio, Pisces, and Taurus

Current situation: knight of swords

It could start out very passionately. Just very fire-y. Full of new curiosity. That feeling of when you meet someone new and it's just all butterflies and rainbows. Just that whole excitement of meeting someone new. So much fun and just being in each other's company feels just amazing! That honey moon phase.

Challenge: wheel of fortune

He could just take things how they come in terms of progressing a relationship. He follows the lead the other person takes I feel. If they want to move quickly, he moves quickly too. They are a slow mover, he'll move at a snails pace too. Just kind of depends how the other person chooses to progress things.

Need to focus: 4 of swords (reversed)

I think by doing this and following his partner's pace tuckers him out. He isn't doin what he needs to. He isn't going the pace he wants to nor does the relationship go the way he wants it to. It's like once that initial honey moon phase wears off, he's bored of it and wants something new. It's no longer exciting and he needs to change how he handles this. Sometimes a relationship gets boring, do something to spice it up!

Leaving/ The past: the hanged man (reversed)

He wants to change this part of himself. He doesn't want to abandon a perfectly good relationship when it gets boring. I think he could be focusing on himself to try and fix this piece of himself. He really doesn't want to be that kind of person anymore. He could have been a bit of a player and now, he's just kind of done with it. It isn't helping him any.

Strengths: knight of cups

He's good about expressing how he feels in regards to his romantic feelings for another person. He's good at opening up enough to let them in a bit. He's smooth with his words when confessing to someone he's interested in. He may be very confident and have no issue just saying how he feels towards someone which is great, love to see it!

Near future: 3 of pentacles

He might be entertaining the idea of getting into some type of relationship. I don't think it would be anything serious, just kind of a see where it goes. I'm bored, you're bored, let's fuck around and find out. That thing. Just for the hell of it. At least, that's how it could start out, it could develop into something more serious than that later down the road.

Advice: 4 of cups (reversed)

He needs to drop this pessimistic attitude towards his love life. He could be holding on to a whole lot of regret. Just beating himself up for what he's done wrong in his relationships, he needs to let it go. What happened happened. Nothing he can do about it now, it's in the past. He can, however, change now. Change how he chooses to move forward in relationships. How he views them.

Environment: 8 of pentacles

Getting past this regret, could prove to be a bit difficult. He's very busy with work so that's taking up a majority of his time. He might even be working on himself a whole hell of a lot through work. Maybe even self medicating with it. Does that make sense? A workaholic type of thing.

Hopes and Fears: 7 of cups (reversed)

He doesn't want to be swept up in delusional thinking about the next person coming into his life romantically. He could just want something very direct. He doesn't want to keep living with rose colored glasses on at every person he meets. He needs to take them off and face the reality of this person not just the fun parts.

Potential outcome: 9 of pentacles

Again, just mainly focusing on himself and building himself in his career. He isn't really looking for anything at the moment. Just wants to fix his own issues and become as successful as he can be. Just worry about himself for the time being and I think he's right for doing so. You go Glenn Coco!

#—faes readings #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #jake sim #jay park #kim seonwoo #nishimura riki #park sunghoon #yang jungwon #lee heesung #enhypen #enhypen tarot

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eeunoia · 5 months

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Ask my characters

Attention please all boys :

Who is the one who is most down bad for their y/n and why

(Interview of Rugby Star Players)

Members will be called one by one to sit a chair a little far from where the other boys are. They will be asked to sit and be asked by this question while the others casually goofing around behind them. There’s a safe distance so it will be safe.

“Who is the one who is most down bad for their y/n and why?”

yang jungwon

“I think everyone loves their girlfriends so much and will do anything for them,” Jungwon, the captain starts. He chuckles and roams his eyes around his team members trying to pick one from them. They’re too busy bickering with one another.

“I will pick Heeseung hyung.” he faces the camera and smirks. “Yeah, him. Why? Because almost abandon our game because she’s not watching.” he announces and scoffs.

“Pretty crazy.” he left a last remarks before calling the next member.

lee heeseung

“I will pick me.” he straight up answered without hesitation.

“If you can pick one other member—”

“I pick myself.” and he gave them an unamused look on his face.

park jongseong

“Hmm,” he hums and tilts his head giving it a thought. The member’s face flashes through his mind and his grin widens at the memory of one of them.

“Park Sunghoon. Definitely him.” he scoffs and shakes his head like he can’t believe something.

“Because he don’t normally takes interest in girls since he’s very focus with games and studies. The fact that his girlfriend catches his attention says a lot. He’s practically heads over heels with her.”

jake sim

“Heeseung hyung.” he smiles. “Look, I love my girl so much and will do anything for her but I guess picking myself will be no fun.” he shrugs his shoulders off.

“So its Heeseung hyung. His girlfriend got him wrap around her fingers.” Jake chuckles attractively.

“Oh girls... such dangerous pretty creatures.”

park sunghoon

“What’s this? I thought we will be asked about the game?” his placid expression intimidates the interviewer so they smiled awkwardly.

“I-It’s for the school news paper! Your girlfriend, the vice president, wants us to interview the rugby team.” one even says.

They saw how his face evidently brightens at the mention of his girl. His face relaxes and his he glanced away, thinking for an answer.

“Me.” he shortly replied.

“W-Why?” they wanted to ask for him to pick another member, but afraid to spoil his mood.

“The fact that I’m sitting here answering these questions instead of something about the game just proves it. If it weren’t for my girlfriend, I won’t contribute here.”

kim sunoo

The interviewers melted when they saw him smiling brightly as he sat down at the chair. They are star strucked by Kim Sunoo’s beauty. Thankfully, he snaps them out of their trance.

“I think it will be Jake hyung.” he smiles and chuckles.

“Because he stops playing with girls hearts after he met his girlfriend. He’s been annoying me for having too many of them, I’m really glad its finally over.”

nishimura riki

“Is this for the school news paper?” he asks curiously. One of them nodded and he furrowed his brows.

“Why isn’t my girlfriend the one covering this?”

“She’s assigned in a different department.”

He sighs, disappointed. He clicked his tongue before answering their question.

“I pick myself.” he says. “But if you need another member as answer, it would be Sunghoon hyung. He’s just crazy for her. Whipped. A simp.”

#—anon #ily #askpsychecharacters

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duskdog · 1 year

Text

You know, fandom seems to talk about Wrathion's past mistakes a lot, but I don't often see anyone discuss his visits to the August Celestials during his legendary questline. Like, sure, people occasionally bring up his attitude towards Tong, but how many current players were there to experience (and still remember) the rest of that quest? When I think of Wrathion, I think first of the whelp who literally dropped to his knees before the Red Crane of Hope, who poured out his heart about the visions he'd had -- how terrified he was that the Legion was coming, about the "rivers of blood and cities in ruin" that would result if he wasn't able to somehow, some way, stop this from happening, and about how the only thing sustaining him was the tiny sliver of hope that he might actually succeed. This is a young dragon who foresaw something that absolutely shook him to his core, something he would do anything to try to prevent... and who felt he had almost no support, because it seemed he was the only one taking the threat seriously while everyone around him was busy fighting one another. His fear, his burden, was so great that the Red Crane himself even admitted that Wrathion needed his blessing of Hope "more than any I have ever met".

We can, of course, debate Wrathion's methods. It's fairly obvious that he didn't fully understand the lessons the Celestials were trying to teach him -- at least not at the time. It's also undeniable that he made some pretty terrible mistakes along the way. And I can certainly understand the argument that his attitude in Dragonflight is just too annoying for some people to stomach. But the thing that always brings me back to Wrathion as Aspect is the knowledge that he actually cares about Azeroth. From the moment he was hatched -- even before -- he carried the burden of Earth-Warder, and he took it absolutely seriously. Neltharion took an oath, and he broke it -- broke beneath it, I would argue -- and Wrathion clearly believes that it's his own responsibility to bear the immense, crushing weight that his Aspect father/grandfather, and his entire flight, proved unable to bear. All those black dragons betrayed Azeroth, tried to destroy what they were sworn to protect, and here's Wrathion -- first a whelp and now a drake, all alone, without Neltharion's colossal size, strength, and power, without the support of a dragonflight behind him, without the support and trust of the other flights, without any true home or safe harbor, without the regard of the mortal races that he's trying to protect -- doing his best to fulfill an oath that he personally never actually took, only inherited.

Given that knowledge, I actually think Wrathion has behaved with remarkable restraint in regard to Sabellian's sudden appearance as a rival. Has Sabellian even given us the slightest indication that he actually cares about the sacred charge of the black dragonflight? He's certainly older, wiser, and steadier, and maybe he's done a good job of raising his kin and keeping them safe in Outland... but does he care about Azeroth? Because he certainly hasn't been there when it needed him... and yet he was perfectly willing to risk reappearing just in time to claim the Obsidian Throne.

#wrathion #world of warcraft #the trials themselves are also great #i could write an essay on Deathwing as the personification of Wrathion's fear #And the Red Crane reassuring him that he's not his “father”#the celestials did not dismiss Wrathion #even when he clearly wasn't understanding #they showed patience with him #IMO they understood that their lessons would sink in eventually

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sykosomatic · 6 months

Text

detective hoffman x apprentice!male reader <3 (nsfw!!!)

cw: reader gets fucked in a saw trap, no plot just porn, reader giving hoffman head, rough sex, no condom/lube for plot purposes (but you should use those things irl!), hoffman spits at reader, reader is submissive, reader bottoms, hoffman cums in reader’s throat and ass, famous saw bathroom makes an appearance(!).

((as voted on in the poll i posted a couple days ago!))

••••••••

your head was throbbing from dehydration, your eyes opening to a harsh blue light. the blue only made it worse, your eyes straining in the fluorescents. you couldn’t remember much about where you’d even been before this… working on a trap, maybe? that’s the last thing you remembered, but something could’ve happened between then and … whatever was happening now. “ugh…” you groaned, trying to move and get up, and finding out that your wrists were strapped down to the chair you were sat in. and your ankles as well..? what the hell was going on?

“hello..? guys, this isn’t funny…!” you groaned out, your own voice making your head throb. your shoulders felt heavy, and you looked down to see that there was in fact a trap around your neck. you recognized it; amanda had been working on this one. was it finished? was she trying it out on you..? “amanda?” you croaked, hooding for an answer. now that your eyes had adjusted, you knew where you were at. that damn bathroom.

you felt hands on your shoulders — well, they parts of your shoulders not carrying the shotgun trap on them — and you jumped a bit, looking for the owner as he walked around to the front of your chair. you frowned thoughtfully, wondering what had spurred him to put you here, looking around for a timer. what had you done to warrant a trap? you minded your own business, helped when needed… and besides, you’d already survived your own trap. a second wasn’t necessary; you still had the scars from the first. “hoffman..?” you mused, watching him take something out of his coat pocket. a tape recorder. your stomach flipped.

before you could object or voice your concerns for being tested again, he set the tape recorder in your lap. he reached in and pressed a button on the side of your collar, presumably turning it on. there wasn’t a timer — amanda had wired it to be set off some other way. hoffman pressed play on the tape player and his own raspy voice played from the tape.

“hello, young apprentice. i want to play a game.”

hoffman shifted forward. you watched him undo his belt and slide his zipper down as his voice over the tape told you what to do.

“i want you to prove yourself to me. you deem yourself worthy of being an apprentice, and yet you’ve done nothing to prove you can handle it. do you have what it takes?”

hoffman’s cock was what you’d expected for his build and height; it was girthy, and probably a bit above average length. he stroked it slowly in front of you, making your face hot.

“you want me to suck you off,” you gathered, from the very obvious information in front of you. his lopsided grin gave you butterflies. you hadn’t thought of him sexually before, not really, and as you looked up at him you wondered why. he had a nice muscular, dad bod build. his face was attractive, and when he did decide to speak his voice was raspy and rugged.

instead of answering, he pulled a little switch box out of his pocket and pressed a button. you heard your collar beep, as if activated. you’d thought it was already activated… evidently he’d tweaked amanda’s design and added a timer.

“you have two minutes,” came his voice from above you; his real voice, making you shudder. what, you had to make him cum in two minutes using just your mouth to prove you deserved to live? was that what your life was worth, a blowjob? little did you know, he had a lot more in store for you than that.

you leaned your head in and met him halfway, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. you figured you obviously didn’t have very long so you had to skip the niceties of a really good blowjob; you had to give him a good, fast, sloppy one.

you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, bobbing your head and trying to fit as much of his girth down your throat as possible. you fought back a gag, clawing your fingernails into the wooden armrests of your chair. his hand found the back of your head, driving his shaft down deeper and making you choke. drool dribbled down your chin, slathering all over his cock as he made you gag on his length. he seemed to like the sound, and hey, if he was gonna help you win, who were you to object?

your drool coated his cock as you gagged, practically streaming down his length and balls. he grunted in pleasure after a moment, shoving your head down even further. the hair at the base of his cock tickled against your nose and chin. he held you there for a moment, his grip tight on the back of your head as he growled lowly, cumming deep into the back of your throat. you sputtered and choked, drooling his cum out of your mouth. you tried to swallow what you could, not knowing whether or not that would get you penalized.

you expected him to disarm the collar once you were through sucking him off but he didn’t. he undid your leg restraints, and you stayed put. why hadn’t he disarmed the collar?

hoffman undid your wrist restraints, grabbing you roughly and turning you around, shoving your knees into the seat of the chair. you grinned in protest but didn’t say anything else just yet. what else was he going to do to you?

hoffman restrained your wrists on the top of the back of the chair, tying your wrists up between the rungs. “i… won.. didn’t i?” you asked. as soon as the words left your mouth you knew better than to have asked them and your face went red as hoffman yanked your pants down, exposing your bare ass to the undeniable chill of the room.

“oh, am i mistaken? have you proven yourself worthy to me?” he spat at you, first in his tone and then actually spitting at the rim of your asshole. he was going to fuck you. why did the thought of that make you so aroused?

“well.. my two minutes was up.. wasn’t it?”

hoffman chuckled, like he knew something you didn’t, and he wasn’t going to tell you.

“did you like my mouth so much you wanted the real thing?” you asked playfully, biting your lip as you awaited his response. he smacked your ass, hard, and you gasped. “fuck!”

“maybe so,” he muttered, chuckling at your reaction. you could feel, but not see, his cock aligning at the entrance of your asshole. it made you clench up in anticipation but you quickly realized that would be a bad idea. you relaxed your body as much as you could as you felt his slobber and cum covered cock sink into your asshole. god, was he so girthy. you moaned deeply, spreading your legs the best you could to give him room. his cock was warm and wet as it slid up into you, making you whine as he sheathed himself all the way in.

he gave no warning as he slid slowly out that he’d slam back into you, and you hadn’t expected one, but it would’ve been nice. you saw stars as he pounded his cock into you, hitting that oh-so-special spot about the third time in. it had you unraveling in seconds, drooling and whining. his hands held tight to your ass, so tight you were sure there would be bruises. and occasionally spanked you to get a good reaction.

“oh, fuck!” you cried out as you came, splattering the chair with your cum. your legs shook as he kept taking you, making your eyes water. he was fucking you so hard you’d started getting lightheaded. you moaned and whined incoherently, your head bobbing with his movements like you were some sort of rag doll. god, it felt so good.

“shit, shit!” you cried out as he milked a second orgasm out of you. how had he done that? your asshole was raw and sore by the time you came from him pounding out that spot. that was three now? your wrists were rubbed raw from the writhing and wriggling he was working out of you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care that much.

hoffman was quiet save for the occasional grunt or groan, right up until the end where he started almost growling. you could feel him being impossibly rougher as he got to his orgasm; he was clawing at your sides, back, and ass. as he came, he held your ass cheeks flush against his hips, keeping you there as he unloaded himself into you. he filled you up, making you moan out at the sensation. “fuck…” you breathed out as he finished.

hoffman pulled his cock out of your ass, slow and deliberate as he watched his cum spill out of you and down your thighs. he smacked your ass one last time, pressing the button to disarm the collar — finally — making relief course through you. he undid your restraints, unexpectedly, and wordlessly walked away. “i had fun too..!” you called to him as he walked off, leaving you there covered in his cum.

#writing #slashers #male reader #drabble #slasher smut #hoffman x reader #mark hoffman #mark hoffman saw #hoffman saw #hoffman x male reader #mark hoffman x male reader #saw #saw fanfiction #poll results

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papaya-047 · 1 month

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Hi!!

This is my first time asking something but could you do a Ron weasley x reader where they both are Quidditch players maybe different houses even!!

and they have fun in the quidditch closet! (fluff or smut whatever you want!!)

The most smut i will do is PG-13 lmao, we are a family friendly blog over here. Am I good at writing anything remotely smutty? No. so this what you get.

This was going to be the worst practice ever, you've been begging for friendly matches to stop since you got on the team but they never were quite friendly. The last friendly game was against Slytherin and they did not hold back. You walked out of that practice with a black eye and a sprained wrist. At least this was just for fun, and since having fun was one of two reasons you wanted to do quidditch in the first place you try to make the best of it. Especially since the other reason is on the team you're playing against.

Hurrying out of your dorm you stumble your way to the quidditch field, struggling to lug your equipment around the campus. “Need a hand?” A deep voice spoke over your head. Ron.

“I’m fine.” you said, your broom in one hand and an overstuffed duffle in the other, all dragging behind you.

“Clearly,” the sarcasm in his voice was obvious. Without warning the bag was lifted out of your hand and you were free to hold your broom without it touching the floor.

“You know if you keep dragging it like that you're doing to damage the bristles on the broom.”

You laugh, “what's that gonna do? Make it less aerodynamic?” you ask sarcastically.

“Yes,” he said shortly. “Or you know what you should probably keep dragging it, it'll make it easier to beat you.”

“Please you don't need the help, I don’t try at these things.” Trying to keep up with Rons strides proved to be a bit of a challenge. He was walking at a lethargic speed but the length of his steps were worth 3 of yours.

“That's too bad I was looking forward to playing you,” he said through a smile. You felt your face grow hot. “And a friendly game means you won’t kick my ass.”

You laughed, “what makes you think I would kick your ass at all?”

“Your track record,” you looked at him confused. “Do you really not remember? First year? And Second, third and fourth?” You shook your head. “Well I guess the trauma seared it into my memory,” he chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, “oh don't be dramatic. I never did anything that bad.”

Still smiling, Ron looked down at you for the first time since you started walking, “No, just tackled me a lot.”

“In first year? When I was learning how to fly? You still remember that?” you shouted mortified as the flood of embarrassment came rushing back.

“When your crush lands on top of you, your 11 year old boy brain tends to think about it a lot.” he laughed.

“You had a crush on me?”

“Wasn't it obvious? I nearly failed every class we had together because I was so busy staring at you.”

You tried your best to remember your first year classes, but any of Rons “obvious” behavior was not something your first year self ever picked up on, “I can safely say I didn't notice.”

“Why did you think I needed so much help in every subject?”

“You're an idiot?” you asked through a muted laugh.

“No, I just spent every class paying attention to you instead of the material. So when you practically obsess over someone and they continuously struggle to balance on a broom, you hope to be put in a position that you might end up with said person on top of…” his voice tapered off. Cheeks red, refusing to make eye contact. He clearly didn't mean for that word vomit to come out, but up until he stopped talking you assumed those feelings had stopped after the first year, but now you're not so sure.

“So what about second, third and fourth year?” you tried to move the conversation along wanting to casually move past what Ron just said, he was clearly embarrassed and you didn't want to make things worse.

The two of you reached the quidditch field, the sight of fluttering robes and the distant echoes of laughter filling the air. Ron scratched his head, and avoided your gaze. "Well, second year was all about the dueling club," he began, trying to regain composure. "Remember when I was petrified? You visited me in the hospital wing. I was so out of it and used to being tackled that I thought you were going to hex me."

You chuckled at the memory. "As if I would hex you. Besides, I couldn't resist visiting the famous Ron Weasley,” you put on a mocking tone, “you were always up to something.”

“I still am.” he mumbled under his breath. Clearing his throat “in third year I convinced myself you hated me and fourth year, well I spilt my drink on you at the yule ball so I was certain you hated me.”

You couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. "Oh my god,. How could I forget?” the Yule ball was a bottle of embarrassment you did not want to revisit. No one asked to go with you and the moment you thought a certain ginger was going to ask you to dance he spilled his drink all over you, “You know I stole that robe from professor sprout?”

Ron stopped in his place, “That was Sprout’s?” he raised his voice in shock.

“Yep,” you chuckled, “Do you even remember what it looks like?”

“Of course I do!” he exclaimed, before calming himself down, “Although in my memory it’s covered in fruit punch.” Ron continued walking to bring your stuff over to where your team was setting up. You noticed how much slower he’d gotten, it was much easier to keep up.

“I technically didn't steal it, I just borrowed it and had my dormmate alter it a bit.”

“Well they did a bloody good job, you looked hot.” Ron said before he could stop himself, “I-I mean,” he stuttered, “you looked good.” changing his tone.

You smirked at Ron stopping in the middle of the field. "Hot, huh?" you teased, enjoying the rosy tint that crept across Ron's cheeks.

Ron stumbled over his words, "No, not hot. Definitely not hot." trying to backtrack. Your face fell slightly, making him panic even more. “Not that you're not hot! You’re so hot it's crazy!”

Suddenly, in the midst of their walk, Ron tripped over a loose cobblestone and by instinct grabbed you for balance. But instead of regaining his footing, the unexpected momentum sent both of you tumbling forward.

As you crashed to the ground, and somehow you found yourself sprawled on top of Ron, his laughter echoing yours in the crisp air. "You definitely need balance training,” you quipped through laughter, but he wasn't laughing. Your duffle had been flung above his head, and his hands had instinctively grasped for you, firmly planted around your waist, and for a moment, you both lay there, catching your breath and sharing a moment of sheer hilarity.

Your laughter subsided, replaced by silence as you gazed into each other's eyes. “Just like old times, eh?” You tried to lighten the tension. He didn't reply, lost in your eyes seemingly unable to speak. “Ron? Are you oka-”

“Can I kiss you?” he interrupted. Rushing the words as if he had been building up the courage to speak.

“On the field?” Ron shot up, nearly shoving you off of him. He quickly picked up your things and tried to avoid eye contact. This time he picked up your broom as well and we was off to your team's changing rooms to drop your things off. This time his pace was far from lethargic, he may as well have been running, that would be the only way you could ever keep up with him. “Ron?” you shouted as you jogged after him trying to catch up.

Once you got to the changing rooms your team whispered at the sight of gryffindors keeper in their rooms. “Here you go,” dropping your things on the side and rushing out. You grabbed his arm. He was red and looking anywhere but your eyes. Your team began filling out the room to begin warming up as they called you to hurry and get dressed.

You dragged Ron further into the room, “Listen Ron-”

“You don't need to say it, I'm sorry. It was an accident and it'll never happen again. The last thing I ever want to do is make you uncomfortable.” he was rambling, “and you can ignore what i said, i saw a pretty girl on top of me and i wasn't thinking. Not that I think you're pretty! Not that you're not pretty! Oh god-” you crashed your lips into his, an effective way to shut him up. He was tense with surprise before melting into the kiss as you pulled him closer by his shirt, his hand cupped your face, his arm wrapped around your waist drawing you in. He turned you, pinning you against the wall as his kiss deepened. His knee rose up to rest between your legs as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

The whistle blew outside, pulling you away from the kiss as you hear your captain shouting your name. You sigh disappointedly. You turn back to Ron, who was staring at you, you giggled nervously, “what?”

“I take it back, I think you're very pretty.” You smiled and pulled him in for another kiss.

#my writing #Ron weasley #ron weasley x y/n #ron weasley x you #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley smut #ron weasley imagine #ron weasley x reader #harry potter imagine #asks #ron weasley blurb #blurbs

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hqfeatbetty · 1 year

Text

Question..? : Sae Itoshi

Perfect. Just perfect. Out of all the athletes in japan, it has to be HIM who you should interview as a new sport reporter, your boss insisted that you only ask him in the conference press because that'll tempt more readers for your magazine.

He was known that he's mean,rude; if he doesn't like your question he will spit harsh words directly at your face without a second thought, so you really have to do your bestest to not get on his nerves.

When it's the time to finally gather at the meeting room and prepare for the conference press to start has come, you already had like 9 panic attacks, the last one you've been through when the team entered the room and... here he is, Sae Itoshi with his full glory. You were mesmerized by his beauty that for the first time since you arrived you don't feel like you're about to throw up from the excitement, or nervousness you're not quite sure.

You were busy trying to shake the stress away and preparing yourself mentally for any kind of insult, not paying much attention to Shido Ryusei as he was answering smugly for the previous question, until you heard the organizer asking for the next question.

You slowly raised your hand along others reporters, and when they give you the permission to speak you grabbed the mic with a shaky hand matching the shaky breath you took before speaking, "my question is for mr.itoshi sae," hearing his name, the prodigy's gaze fell on you which made swallowing thickly, you were collecting your confidence before speaking again trying to sound unbothered by his cold stare, "how is it playing for Japan after playing for years with a really strong team such as Real Madrid; specially when you mentioned a long time ago that you're not interested in playing for your country bacause of its weakness ?"

After asking the damn question you've been rehearsaling in your mind for the past 30 minutes, you breathed a sigh of relief, patting yourself mentally for the good job you did.

Now with the only thing that left is taking notes of the answer of sae, you looked at him excited to hear his response, you were met with his bored eyes, "it's just happened that i wanted to see the result of blue lock with my own eyes, not convinced with its idea and assuming its failure, so when i played against them and proved me wrong i changed my mind." sae answered, supporting his head on his palm, you thanked him and wrote down your notes, now that you have what'll make your boss proud, you listened carefully for the questions and answers exchanged between the reports and the players, trying to learn from the more experienced colleagues.

For the rest of the conference you could've sworn that sae kept stealing glances towards you, even daring to maintain eye contact with you when your eyes met, but you only brushed it off, you kept telling yourself that ain't no way the SAE ITOSHI will give you attention, it's totally a pure coincidence that he kept looking at your direction and catching your eyes with his teal ones.

When the conference ended you gathered your things and exited the meeting room, happy that your first mission in your new job went smoothly.

You were humming to yourself heading to your car when someone gently grabbed your wrist. To say that you were shocked would be understatement, you felt that your heart might stop at any moment. You looked up at sae confused, wondering what's the prodigy want from you; it's not helping that he was looking at you with his handsome face slightly smirking, you decided to ask first bacause it doesn't seem he plans to speak anytime soon, "is something the matter!", for a moment you were expecting him to scold you or say something negative about your question, but your thoughts were replaced by surprise when the SAE ITOSHI murmured a quiet, "can you give me your number!".

#this is really bad but i wanted to write for him 😩#sae blue lock #sae itoshi x y/n #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x you #sae bllk #bllk x reader #bllk fluff

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sorcerous-caress · 5 days

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Aglaya and Artemy are so smitten with each other oh my god. A doomed romance neither of them expected to blossom amidst the war and plague.

How she desperately tried to protect Artemy at each corner and turn, only wanted the best for him and put in so much effort to understand the kin in such a short notice despite her busy schedule and death knocking on her door.

HE DOESN'T EVEN HESITATE BEFORE CALLING HER HIS WIFE WHEN THE LITERAL ARMY CORNERS THEM. Fleeing together and choosing their own path! Choosing their love over the town and all the people in it! In Artemy's view, that might as well have been their wedding vows.

She's such a powerful woman who instils fear into everyone she crosses. The infamous inquisitor who broke the mind of everyone she has called into questioning so far, who had the Bachelor thinking that she'll order his execution. Who had the kains shaking in terror, crumbling down the three old powerhouses of the town in a couple of days.

Mansplain Girlboss x Himbo Malewife fr fr

I always felt like their relationship progressed a little too fast in P2, but when I played P1 I completely understood why. it's expanded upon so much more and you get to see exactly how they slowly fall in love, how much their trust in each other multiples by the day.

How everyone around them can see it clearly.

MY WIFE <3333 M Y WIFE I AM IN HEAVEN.

There are just so many golden lines between these two. There are so many adorable moments of them being silly and weird, and so so in love like:

Aglaya makes her interest in Artemy as a person very clear. She recites us peotry upon first meeting him, saying he will learn the meaning in the future.

Yet she compares his mind to that of a poet later on.

Saying how much she respects him, how she incoperates a steppe term into a beautiful flirtatious line when she thinks it's time to say goodbye. When she thinks we won't return her feelings.

And yet despite her feelings burning with the intensity of a thousand suns, she never allows it to mix with her job, even telling him not to get roped into politics because he's on the path of priesthood while she acknowledges the manipulators she works for.

All to protect him, to protect you.

She is very sweet and thoughtful, calculated yet sincere in her feelings for Artemy. She never once acts like how others claim she would. She never walks anyone else's path of expectations.

All of her infatuation stems from the fact that Artemy answered her lifelong question so simply. Because he loved this town he grew up in and wanted to protect it.

Because he proved that having free-will makes very little difference in the grand nothingness of the universe. Even if other people interpret his actions or use it to benefit their schemes, Artemy will walk a path of his own making and follow his own heart to know what's right or wrong.

He showed her that she has always been free, not the puppet she thought she was. That constantly trying to spite greater forces isn't a way to live your life. Rather, actually living that life how you want is true freedom.

That finding your own happiness and looking out for the people you love is the best revenge you could deliver.

Even if everyone was a puppet and their entire reality has been nothing but a game, even then it wouldn't make a single difference to Artemy.

Because his love was real, his feelings were real enough. Puppet or not, he loved his father. He loves this town, which nursed him young. And he will deliver that love back when it's in need, when the kids he swore to protect are in danger.

And yet, I have a theory. I think it's the player she is in love with, too, rather than just Artemy.

It's because technically, only the player has free will. Only the player gets to escape the narrative.

Only the player is the full fledged human being that she fell in love with.

But I might be wrong, I need to play the Bachelor's route to confirm this, I've only done the Haruspex in P1 and P2 so far.

So far she is indifferent towards him, at least in Artemy's route, she views the Bachelor as a useful tool, a means to an end. Maybe it changes in his route and she falls for the player again? or maybe it's exclusive to Artemy because while she likes the player, she still loves Artemy himself on his own, even without the free will.

Or maybe you need a combination of both to results in Aglaya taking notice of you. The Bachelor is bound to Maria, who's trying to become Nina, and Aglaya loathes the kains and seeks revenge against them.

While Artemy walks free, he isn't bound to anyone she despies. Not to mention how fascinated she is by Steppe culture and the natural miracles, how excited she is when she finds the town is alive, how much invested she is in Artemy fullfilling his father's inheritance.

I wish there was a timelife where she lives. It seems that it doesn't matter what you do, she will always perish.

A doomed romance, she finally found something in this life worth caring about, someone worth calling her own.

And just when you think you've outsmarted the system and escaped hades, the game steals her away from you and humilates you by making you walk all the way back.

"You really thought it would be this easy?"

"You should've seen this coming"

"What did you ever expect? a happily ever after?"

"That's what you get for attempting to ruin the play, now get back inside."

So you reload an earlier savefile with a bitter taste in your mouth.

You play by their rules this time around.

Do whatever you can to appease the powers that be, keep showing up every day to deliver the best possible performance.

Willingly let yourself become a puppet and never go against the strings pulling you along.

The most painful part, however, is having to reject Aglayas' proposal to run together.

She doesn't understand. She is desperate trying to get you to see her point of view, like you effortlessly did so many times before.

She is confused, why are you suddenly rejecting her ideas, why did your trust in her vanish overnight? Did she do something wrong? Please listen to her. She loves you and wants to live with you.

Please just listen, I'm not lying i swear.

Please come with me.

I love you.

And I can't go on without you.

You have to sit there and deny her request, time after time after time, each more painful than the last. She explains herself, but you won't listen. You can't listen.

Because if you listen, she will die.

You know the future. You're trying to protect her like she has protected you so much before. She can't understand, so she gets hurt. You're whispering sorry to a screen like a fool.

...

She still dies.

You've hurt her for nothing. She loved you, and in her final moments, you broke her heart.

For nothing.

All of your work and effort, your dignity and pride reduced to mud in which you've rolled through to appease two stupid kids from taking your wife away from you.

Because she still fucking dies the next day.

To rub salt into the wound, her demise is off-screen this time. Like one of the nameless npcs in the number counter of deaths we see at the start of each day.

One of them was Aglaya. Reduced to just a number on a counter, like the thousands before her.

Doomed if you do.

Doomed if you don't.

Used and discarded like an old toy.

A mother's beloved childhood doll.

Was worthy of love afterall.

#♡otherfandoms #♡pathologic #artemy burakh #aglaya lilich #Artemy x Aglaya #Aglaya x Artemy #pathologic 2 #pathologic classic hd #pathologic #the haruspex #the inquisitor

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woso-fan13 · 1 year

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28. Chronic Illness

“.. I’m a cancer, so obviously it didn’t work,” Alex finishes her sentence as you walk into the room.

“Really?” You ask, perking up, “me too. We’re twins, even if it’s not the best thing to twin with.”

Alex startles slightly when your voice is first heard behind her. Turning around, she smiles and motions you into the conversation. There were no seats open so you walk over and plunk into her lap, making yourself comfortable.

“Wait, Y/N, isn’t your birthday in February?” Rose asks.

��Yeah?” You respond, somewhat confused.

“How can you be a cancer then?” she questions.

“Is that what you said?” you ask, looking up to Alex, “I thought you said that you had cancer. I need to start paying better attention when other people talk.”

The conversation continues for another moment until the room suddenly goes quiet. It seems like everyone processed what you said at the same time.

“Kid, why did you say we were twins earlier?” Alex asks hesitantly, unsure if she wants to know the answer.

“Hmm? Oh, that! I misheard you, I thought that you said that you had cancer.”

“I know that, but I am a cancer. You’re not,” she tries to rationalize.

“I’m not, I’m an aquarius,” you affirm.

“So you’re not a cancer?”

“I’m not a cancer,” you pause, “but I do have cancer, so I can see the confusion.”

Everyone had been trying to piece the conversation together, so they had an idea of what you were going to say. Still, hearing you say those simple words caused some players to let out exaggerated gasps. You turn your head to the sound, furrowing your brow.

“Is this news?”

Frantic heads nodding confirms that this is, in fact, news to them. Everyone looked like they wanted to talk, but nobody could find the words. Thankfully, you had become a master of handling awkward conversations, so you could handle this.

“I’ve had it for a while now, I just always assumed that you guys knew. I had leukemia when I was a toddler, but I don’t remember that. But it put me at higher risk of developing cancer again, and I relapsed about 3 years ago. After about 2 years, so last year, I went into remission. I was only in remission for a few months when tests confirmed that I had relapsed again. So I’ve been doing my treatment and everything, I’ve just been timing it so that the worst of the symptoms are over when I get to camp.”

“And I know, health always comes first. And I promise, I’m taking it really seriously. I have a great oncologist and a stable treatment plan, and I’m doing everything I’m supposed to be doing. I haven’t been playing as much, Vlatko always pulls me out of practice early. And he never lets me play a full 90 anymore, but at least I'm playing. I'm doing what I love.”

—-

Everything was going according to schedule until it wasn’t. One of the games got moved up, so camp was a week earlier than it should have been. Which left you scrambling from chemo directly to the airport and still arriving late to camp.

You had gotten a pass from Vlatko to sit out on team dinner and game analysis that night, instead finding your room and falling asleep as soon as you could. The day had been long and hard, and you knew the upcoming days would likely be rough. But you were determined not to get sick, to prove that you were strong. You really thought that you could ‘mind over matter’ your post-chemo symptoms away.

Matter won out around 7am, when your eyes suddenly opened. The all too familiar feeling was back and left you racing for the bathroom. You barely make it in time, the bathroom door is still open and the lights off, but you made it to the toilet, so that was a win.

You proceed to begin to lose any stomach contents that you may have. It’s not much, breakfast and a snack from the flight, but your body is insistent that it needs to get rid of it.

You’re so busy that you don’t hear the light footsteps behind you. You’re making enough noise and so stuck in your own head that you don’t hear the faucet turn on, the tap running cool water onto some wash clothes. You don’t even notice anyone approaching you until they are squatting directly behind you.

Your body is exhausted, ready for unconsciousness any way it can get it. An arm wraps around you from behind, across your chest, effectively preventing you from falling forward. The arm pulls you back into a warm body, Alex’s, her vanilla perfume giving her away.

You tip your head back, half-lidded eyes looking up to her. She smiles sadly down at you, using one of the damp wash clothes to wipe your face. She wipes around your mouth, folding the fabric over before wiping the rest of your face.

When she finishes, she throws the dirty cloth into the bathtub behind her. She takes the other clean washcloth, draping across the back of your neck. The cool water feels nice, somehow helping the nausea.

This is not a position that you ever wanted your teammates to see you in. But, here you were, cradled in Alex’s arms, one of her arms supporting your body and her free hand holding the cloth onto you. She was cooing and shushing you gently, trying to stop the involuntary whimpers that kept leaving your mouth. She wasn’t running away disgusted or ignoring you as you worried she might. She was just there

And you knew that her solid presence would be there whenever you needed.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt players #uswnt woso #uswnt x reader #woso imagines #reader insert #woso imagine #woso soccer #woso #womens soccer #uswnt reader #woso x reader

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rose-riot-johnson · 2 months

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Hello my Tumblr Peeps👋😃 I have been trying to think of ideas for atleast the angst genre part of the fanfic for about a week and I've wanting to make a decision on which Blue Lock character to write about for the angst genre, so either the other day or yesterday, I figured for the ideas I have for the fanfic, Reo Mikage will be the staring character for this fanfic😃👍It maybe my 2nd time writing about him, however it will be my 1st time writing about him by himself😁👍He is 1 of the characters I like, honestly😃I just have my reasons why I feel the need to write this fanfic and I could relate to him🤔

💍Please Give Me One More Chance...I Promise I will Make Things Right💍((Adult) Reo Mikage x Any Gender Reader)

Genres:Angst (Warning⚠️: Language and trigger warnings: break up plans and break up depending on the ending)

When you and Reo first met, he saw you were at one of his football matches (which some people refer as soccer (ball) games), which was when he first became a professional football (which some people call soccer) player and after the football match (which some people refer as soccer (ball) game) he was in, you came up to him before having a conversation with eachother. The both of you then exchanged cellphone numbers with eachother. After you and Reo had the first cellphone call with eachother, your relationship with him was official.

You had your relationship with Reo for five years and the both of you have been engaged for about a little longer than three years. You thought he was the best thing to ever happen to you, while you were the best thing to ever happen to him. You knew alot about him and he knew alot about you. Both you and Reo even decided to celebrate the five years that the both of you have been together.

One night, after Reo got done hanging out with his best friend Nagi, he was on his way to your home to celebrate the five years that the both of you have been together. He tried calling you to let you know that he's on his way to your place, however you never answered, as he assumed you were sleeping, so he sent you a text message that he's on his way to your place, as he sent his usual, "cute" emojis to you. Once he got to your place he tried calling, then he hung up since he just realized that you we outside waiting for him.

As you were walking up to Reo, he said "hi" to you and was mentioning about how happy he is to be with me, celebrating the five years he has been with you, and other happy stuff. Unfortunately before he could finish what he was saying, you slapped him across the face. He was upset and shocked about the fact that you slapped him in the face like you did. He then asked, "What's gotten into you and why did you slap me in the face like that?", with tears in his eyes. You shouted at him, as you replied, "I just don't know how much longer I can even, fucken stay in a relationship with someone who lets others tell him what to do! I don't know, when was the last time you had fought for me or our relationship together that I even fucken know of, Reo! Have you actually made any of your decisions as of late or did you let one or both of your parents dictate on what you can and can't do! I need someone who makes decisions on his own! Not let others run your life, Reo! I've been thinking about this, since earlier this morning, so I'm planning to break up with you!".

Reo wasn't sure what he was shocked about more. The fact you slapped him across the face or the reason why you slapped him or that you're planning to break up with him. He then pleaded and cried out, "I promise I was making some decisions for myself and my parents didn't even know some of the decisions I've made... I just didn't know you have been feeling this way about me... Things just have been busy outside of my football (some people refer as soccer) career... Please give me one more chance, (Any Gender Reader)? I will prove to you that I'm making my own decisions and not my parents... You have to believe me, (Any Gender Reader)! I have never meant to make you feel about what you're thinking and planning to do... If I did anything wrong to make you have any reasons and to leave me, because of how you are thinking and how you feel, then please forgive me? I will make things right! Outside of family, aside from my best friend Nagi, you're the only person I truly have! If you leave me, I won't know what I would ever do, without you!", before he started to sob. You saw on his face that he's feeling very hurt, where his heart is breaking second by second. You just know you had to make a decision on wheather or not you're actually going to go through with breaking up with him and breaking his heart to a million tiny pieces.

Now it's up to the reader to decide which ending they read based on their decision on what ending they pick...💔💝

🌹🥀🌹🥀💜🥀🌹🥀🌹

Scroll down to ending A

Scroll down to ending B

🌹🥀🌹🥀💜🥀🌹🥀🌹

Ending A...

Once you thought about what decision to make on wheather or not you break up with Reo, you then calmly said, "Hey Reo... I've been thinking about what you said and I have finally made my decision...", as you proceeded to walk up to him. Reo stopped sobbing, even tough he still has tears roll down his face and is confused, as he is unsure what you meant. "I've decided to... Change my mind and stay in the relationship with you... Be happy I'm giving you another chance for me to stay with you, Reo...", you said, proceeding to hug him tightly before you continued, "You better have meant every word you said, because my heart is telling that I should stay... So, don't think I did it out of pity or anything like that... Our souls must be entwined together and seems like we're meant to be...", as you then smiled.

Reo actually felt relieved and was surprised that you're willing to stay in the relationship with him, despite of your plan to break up with him earlier. He then said, "I will admit, (Any Gender Reader Name)... I'm going to worry about losing you and my chest will hurt for a while, however since I'm relieved that you will stay, my chest will feel better within only a week or two... I promise I won't let you down the way I did, again... I love you, (Any Gender Reader...", as he smiled. "I love you too, Reo Mikage...", you replied before kissing his lips, while hugging him tighter.

Years went by, Reo has never disappointed you after you decided to stay with him and never looking back. You were happy you changed your mind and stayed in the relationship with him. You and Reo Mikage are married now, and the both of you even lived in a new mansion together, where the both of you could have some alone time. Reo will even occasionally happily, say to you, "See, (Any Gender Reader Name)... I told you, I won't let you down, again...". (Up to reader's imagination, if the reader does ever have any children with Reo or not)

Go to the cursive "The End"...

🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻

Ending B...

You just weren't sure what else to do, aside from thinking about wheather or not you're making a mistake with considering on breaking up with, Reo. When you finally made your decision, you walked up to him and said, "Hey Reo! I made a decision!", as he stopped sobbing and smiled, before he asked, "I take it you changed your mind, (Any Gender Reader Name)?". You replied, "No, I didn't change my mind! What do you take me for!", as you slapped him in the face again, but only harder, than you did earlier, then took the engagement ring before throwing it at his forehead.

Reo was shocked that you would go this far to go through with hurting him the way you did, as if he was in despair and having horrible chest pains. The next you did was shout, "Fucken, pathetic! You actually believe I was actually going to give you another chance! Don't you dare try and get fucken, pity from me, because I don't fucken, feel bad for you! We're through, Reo! I'm done with you!", before walking away from him, then going inside of your house, slammed the door, and proceeded to lock the front door. After you locked the front door of your home, his heart was broken into a million pieces to the point his chest hurt worser than it was earlier. He then accepted the fact that you didn't want him, before walking away from your home to be on his back to his home.

A couple years passed by, you began to realize you made a mistake of breaking his heart, as you were noticing all of the other men you have either used you (some used during your relationship with them) and/or just come up with a petty excuse to reject you after you asked them out. One day you bumped into Reo, then tried convincing him to take you back and you even told him that you've made a mistake of going through breaking up with him. After your attempt pleading of taking him back, he said "As much as I want to take you back, you broke my heart years ago and now the first thing you did after seeing me again was you crawling back to me?! If you wouldn't have broke my heart the way you did, I would have considered and I would have shown you that I wouldn't have disappointed you!Unfortunately for you, I'm over you now, (Any Gender Reader Name)! I gave you a chance to consider staying! I'm not the same man I was years ago! You said "We're through" a couple years before! Remember?", before walking far away from you, as he can. Neither of you had any contact with eachother, eversince then...

Go to the cursive "The End"...

🪹🪹🪹🪹🪹🪹🪹🪹🪹

🌹🥀The End🥀🌹

I hope you enjoyed reading this Reo Mikage fanfic my Tumblr Peeps😃👍This is the 1st fanfic I put more than 1 ending in, in a while, to be honest😅 I honestly wanted to write both of the endings for this Reo fanfic, so I read 1 of the fanfics I worked on last year and remeber how to write both endings in the fanfic🪻I will admit 1 of the endings I have written is definitely much darker than the fanfic itself, while the other fanfic will have a happier ending. You can read both of the endings, if you like, however I just figured I'd write the fanfic out the way I did, especially about picking the endings to see which ending you would read first. Yes, I did write about the reader plans on breaking up with him, however I honestly like Reo and I just feel this is the type of fanfic I need to write💝💝💝💝💝

#rose riot writings #rose riot johnson #fanfic written by rose riot johnson #angst #reo mikage #mikage reo #reo x reader #reo mikage x you #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #mikage x reader #tw breakup #tw break up plans #tw break up depending on the ending #blue lock reo #blue lock angst #blue lock #I'm honestly a fan a Reo Mikage

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milaisreading · 2 years

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PART 1

Yandere!MSBY 4 x Kageyama Twin!Reader Side couple: Komori Motoya x Reader

Warnings: Yandere behavior, possessive and obsessive behavior. Manga spoilers. Takes place during the Nationals and post timeskip. Minors don't interact!!! I made the reader 176 cm tall here, btw.

Part 2:

"Woohooo! Nice kill,Suna-san!" (Y/n) cheered along with the crowd, trying to be as loud as possible. Due to her busy schedule with Uni, she didn't have a lot of free time to watch Raijin's games in real life, so when she did have those opportunities, she used them to the fullest. Suna and Komori, hearing her familiar voice, turned and sent her a grin, along with Watari, who just waved at her. 'Amazing... They already won the 1st set, and only 5 more points are needed to finish this one!' (Y/n) blushed in excitement as she kept watching her boyfriend's team, not noticing four pairs of eyes watching her every move.

Hinata was having a great day, he really was. He woke up feeling refreshed, went to train with the rest of the MSBY, and later on they drove to Shizuoka City for their match against one of their long time rival team.Everything was ok for the professional player, until he saw the youngest Kageyama walking down the hallway of the gymnasium.Now, Hinata did like and enjoy (Y/n)'s company, he has been in love with her since before they entered Karasuno. And the moment he saw her, he wanted to run up to the taller woman and hug her, confess the feelings he never had the chance to.

But what made him stop was nobody other than Komori run up to her, kissing her cheek as soon as he reached her side.Hinata would have found the display of affection cute, if it wasn't for the fact that it was between (Y/n) and that libero. The rage and bitterness was slowly taking over his body as he watched the unsuspecting couple.

The orange haired man was aware of them dating. Heck it all went down in their final year at Karasuno, and magazines in Japan and even some in Brasil were fawning over how cute they were, once they found this out.No matter what Hinata did, he couldn't escape it, and the sadness he felt over time became something dark. Something twisted...something nobody would dare to call love...well except for him and 3 of his other teammates.

He will forever remember the rage and betrayal he felt when he found out about them.

Hinata remembered the day he met (Y/n) very clearly. It was the day he made a long term frenemy with her brother. He remembered how kind and sweet she was to him when he promised Tobio he would defeat him on court. Hinata was flabbergasted when he found out the tall beauty was not only the king's twin, but also went to the same high school as he did. Ever since he joined the club as the middle blocker, and (Y/n) as their manager, he went above and beyond to prove how good he was. Which pissed her brother off at times, since Hinata would jump at random moments and not watch where the ball would fly. (Y/n) would of course try and calm them both down, so that they can focus back on either training or on a match.

It was during the Nationals in their 1st year that Hinata felt threatened. Sure, he did see other boys from their school and other schools try to approach (Y/n), but their advances were either ignored, or Tobio would shoo them away with a glare. But this time was different, not only did Tobio greet the newcomer so openly, but (Y/n) also was more talkative than she usually was with strangers. That day, Hinata came across the boy who would cause him so much pain and anguish for years to come.

"Hinata, maybe you should slow down with the food? Nobody will steal it from you, and your stomach will hurt." (Y/n) warned the shorter boy, who kept showing the onigiri into his mouth.

"I am really hungry and nervous! I can't help it! This match against Nekoma that is coming up is making me nervous." Hinata whined. (Y/n) smiled softly at the boy and patted his head, causing Hinata to smile at the affection he was receiving.

"You worry too much. Tobio, you and the rest of the team prepared for so long, there is no way you will lose. Believe in yourself a little more." (Y/n) said softly, shortly after returning back to her own food.

Hinata sighed, blushing brightly as he looked at (Y/n), who was concentrating on the Fukurodani match.

'So pretty...'

"Stop doing that." Kageyama commented as he pinched Hinata's cheek, to which the shorter cried out in pain.

"What was that for?!"

"You know exactly, Boke!"

"Bakayama not making sense, like always!"

"Keep it down you two! Everyone is looking!" (Y/n) shushed them, returning back to the match as the two boys sent each other side glances.

"Ahh Kageyama, I knew that was your voice I heard!" Komori said as he approached the trio.

"Yeah sorry, he can be an idiot at times." Tobio commented, pointing at Hinata.

"Hey!"

(Y/n) looked up at the brown aired boy, taken aback by his cute appearance.

"Oh! I am Komori Motoya, libero from the Itachiyama Institute!" The boy said cheerfully to Hinata and (Y/n).

"Komori-san was in the same youth camp like me." Tobio added as (Y/n) nodded her head.

"A libero? And you were at the youth camp, you must be among the best ones in the country then!" (Y/n) spoke up, Komori sending her a grin.

"Well I wouldn't say that, but I try my best. You are Kageyama's twin, (Y/n)? We heard about you from him."

"We?"

"Yeah, my cousin Sakusa, he is our ace, was with us during the camp."

"Oh I see... Wait, Sakusa Kiyoomi, the no 1 ace in the country?!"

Hinata watched with an empty look in his eyes as the duo chatted. This was the first time he witnessed (Y/n) be so open with a stranger, and that Tobio didn't say a word or even glare a the older boy.

Slowly but surely, he came to realize that a rival finally arrived, and it was in the form of this boy, who not even Tobio can dislike.

"You seem to really like this Komori guy." Hinata comments bitterly as Tobio shrugged his shoulders.

"Komori-san is a good guy. He is fine, in my opinion."

The basically direct approval made Hinata nervous, hoping that nothing big or important will come out of this small talk.

In his final Nationals game, Hinata felt on top of the world. They made it to the Nationals for a 3rd time and placed 3rd in the match. The orange haired boy felt like he could move a mountain.

"Hinata you were amazing as always! I am so proud of you 4!"

The said boy grinned brightly as he felt (Y/n)'s arms wrap around him.

"We wouldn't be here without your help, you know." Hinata spoke softly, hugging back, drowning in the scent (Y/n) carried.

'Now is my time...' The boy gulped, letting go of the girl. Over the years she got even more beautiful to him, and he wasn't sure how to speak for a moment.

"Hey uh...(Y/n)..."

"Yes?" She asked.

"You know how we are graduating all in a few months and...well I wanted to say... that...I am-"

Just as Hinata was about to confess, Tobio's voice interrupted him.

"(Y/n), Komori-san is here." Kageyama said boredly from behind Hinata. Quickly looking up, (Y/n) grinned as she saw the older boy approaching them.

"Sorry Hinata, just a second." She said and left the boy's side.

In horror, orange haired boy watched as (Y/n) jumped into the libero's arms, kissing him on the cheek.

"Woah! Well that's one way to be greeted." Komori joked as Hinata, along with Tsukishima and Yamaguchi watched their exchange.

"The two are dating?" The tallest of the three wondered, turning to look at Kageyama.

"Yeah, since summer or so."

"Since summer?!"

While the three were talking, Hinata kept silent, watching as the girl he loved, heck even worshiped was laughing in another guy's arms. His heart broke on that day, but his sanity was in for a long ride.

Since then, Hinata tried, he really did, to get over his feelings for the younger twin. He made sure to work on his volleyball skill, left for Brasil to learn and became a better player. And he thought he got over her, he thought he could be happy for his friend. It was selfish for him to think she dated Komori to hurt his feelings, since he was never clear with them. But, he just couldn't, (Y/n) was the one he loved, wanted and needed. And during his flight back to Japan, he made a promise to himself. He will do anything in his power to get his (Y/n) back. Hinata was more than willing to share with his other 3 teammates, they loved her equally and would keep her safe.

Hinata clenched his fists as he watched Komori and (Y/n) kiss, and Suna tease them both.

'(Y/n)...it should have been me who you said that to...Not HIM!'

Now Bokuto wasn't a smart person when it came to love. His intelligence when it came to studying was average, his game sense was top notch, his social skills were on par with Hinata and Atsumu, but love... that wasn't smth on his plan.

Well, or so he thought till his 3rd year at Fukurodani. Not only did he meet the Karasuno team, people he considered today as close friends or rivals on court, but also her.

(Y/n) was pretty shy back then, and stayed mostly around her brother, Kiyoko, Hinata or Tsukishima, basically anyone from her team... well, she was pretty close to Kenma, but that's besides the point.

In short, Bokuto saw her as a potentially good friend at the time, and he would try to get a few conversations out of her, ignoring the other Kageyama's glares at times.

And the few conversations he had with her were nice, great even. Not only was she nice, but her game and strategy senses were beyond what he would expect from a high school manager. And the more time passed, the more he grew interested. His heart would beat faster, his breath grew shallower and his hands shaking when he felt her watch his games during the Nationals. It was this way even during the qualifications, because he knew she would be watching this game on her TV, she was making Karasuno's strategies, and it was only normal for her to watch the possible rivals. Later on, his sister told him what he felt was love and gave him some advices on how to handle his emotions and confess.

Bokuto listened carefully, and over the years tried to come up with the perfect confession strategy. And just when he built up the needed courage,it all crashed when he saw the haunting scene playing out in front of him.

It all happened during Karasuno's last game at the Nationals, when they placed 3rd with Yamaguchi as their captain. Bokuto was impressed with his skills and how much he grew from the 1st year, as well as the other four. He would grin whenever (Y/n) would yell some encouraging words or warnings at the boys. He loved seeing how well she took care of the younger ones in the team, watching as she calmed some down over the loss. The rest, were more than happy with the results of their hard work.

As everyone was leaving or going to congratulate the players, Bokuto gripped onto the flowers he got for (Y/n). He decided to be nonchalant in his approach, after all, they weren't strangers to each other.

But the college student stopped in his tracks as he watched (Y/n), the girl of his dreams, run into the arms of the familiar Itachiyama libero.

In horror, Bokuto saw how she kissed him on the cheek, saw the love he held for her and overall, the strong relationship they shared.

Bokuto wasn't stupid, he knew what was going on, but he couldn't help his thoughts.

'What is going on?'

Slowly, he turned around and left.

Throwing the flowers into the garbage, he walked home. Ignoring his sister's questioning, Bokuto went into his room and finally let all the tears,he held back fall.

That night, something inside of Bokuto switched, the thought of (Y/n) being with someone caused anger and resentment in his heart. Every time Bokuto saw anything remotely about the couple in the magazines, he would rip those pages apart.

Hurt, anger, envy and his love for the younger girl clouding his mind.

And now,with a successful career as a athlete, with all the money, fame and fans, Bokuto felt like the helpless and heartbroken boy all those years ago as he watched Komori run up to (Y/n) after the last point was made.

Bokuto held his tears back, keeping a neutral as possible way as he watched the (h/c) woman kiss the man.

'Why him? Of all men, why did it have to be him?' Bokuto clenched his fists, opting to follow Meian as he solemnly told them to go and change, clearly upset with the loss of the game.

Atsumu wouldn't consider himself as a jealous person. Competitive? He sure was. With his twin, which was their thing since forever, with rival players during Junior High, and with his newest addition being Kageyama Tobio.

But now, now he for sure can say the gnawing feeling in his chest, and it took everything in him to not go where Komori and (Y/n) were standing, take her in his arms and show the brown haired man who she belonged to. Who could treat her right. And that was him, Atsumu Miya. One of Japan's top athletes.

It was during the time he was supposed to serve. Before that, everyone witnessed the ace of Karasuno being booed by Inarizaki's crowd, causing him to mess up and losing the point.

(Y/n) didn't initially say anything, seeing as the crowd from Karasuno and Kiyoko kept quiet, and she only heard Ukai and Takeda comment about the ordeal.

'They do that to EVERY team?! How is that fair? And Asahi-san looks genuinely upset over this too...' (Y/n) thought, sending a thumbs up at the ace, hoping he won't beat himself up over this.

The girl kept quiet tho, she didn't know how to even respond to this, and her shyness held her back from standing out from the crowd.

But what broke the camel's back, was when it was the Atsumu's turn to serve.

She watched in confusion as he held his fist up, and the whole crowd from Inarizaki grew quiet.

"They shut up?" (Y/n) questioned, catching Ukai's attention.

"Yeah, I heard of this anomaly from them. They will boo the opponents, but will be quiet as a mouse when it's their team's turn. Something about them needing to concentrate." Ukai explained, causing rage to grow in the girl as she watched the setter score a point.

The same was about to repeat itself, but (Y/n) wasn't going to let that happen. They all, especially the boys worked too hard to get here, and she won't let foul play stop their journey at the 2nd match.

Taking a deep breath, and with adrenaline pumping high, (Y/n) got up from her seat, causing Kiyoko to look up in surprise.

"(Y/n)-"

"WHAT SORT OF FAVORITISM IS THIS?!"

Kiyoko jumped up, just like Takeda, to calm the girl down, but Ukai stopped them both from doing so.

Karasuno looked at their usually quiet manager in shock, never seeing her raise her voice before or glare.

Tobio looked at his twin, then at Inarizaki, being on the lookout if something happens.

Atsumu stopped in his tracks, sending a dirty look towards the girl as she interrupted him.

"(Y/n), calm down-"

"I will not calm down! Otherwise they will treat you guys this way for the rest of the game!" The younger interrupted Daichi, glaring at the referees.

"This can't be called fairness in any way! They are booing our players and causing them to mess up! Who can possibly concentrate when all the cheers are drowned out by them?! Inarizaki is not in any shape of form above us on this court for you to let this slide!"

Taking a deep breath, (Y/n) turned to look at her team, face red, but the same angry look in her eyes was present, scaring the team a little.

"And you guys better get it together! I know we are all nervous, but you all trained for too long to let some cowards run this show! You played against Ushijima of all people, so get it together! You can do just as good against Mustard hair and Co!Please, Karasuno has your back... right?" (Y/n) finished, sounding a little softer as she turned to look at the cheer squad.

Ukai looked af his friends, who quickly got out of their shocked state, and nodded their heads fast.

"OF COURE! WE ALL GOT YOUR BACKS!"

"DON'T LET THEM FASE YOU GUYS! WE KNOW YOU CAN DO IT!!"

(Y/n) smiled thankfully at the two men, then looked back at the court, sending a thumbs up and nervous smile at her team.

"You got this. Show them what Karasuno is made of."

Daichi's shocked expression softened and he nodded his head, turning back to his teammates.

"Alright. Let's do this,swift!"

"Sure thing, Daichi-san!"

"Oi Boke, stop making googly eyes at my sister and focus on the game." Tobio commented, causing the orange haired boy to look away from the flustered twin, and glare at the setter.

"Shut! I wasn't! Let's finish this and move on to the next game!"

"Are you doing alright? Your face is quite red." Sugawara asked, giving the girl a unused water bottle. (Y/n) took it and nodded her head, the realization of what just happened finally hit her.

"Y-yeah... I don't know what came over me to be honest."

"Well whatever it was, it sure helped us. The boys seem more determinated now." Ukai commented with a satisfied smile as the game resumed, with Karasuno's cheer squad now louder than ever.

"Good job, (Y/n)! But now let's sit down and watch the game." Kiyoko said, guiding the girl to the bench.

"Yes! This will all end well, I trust them to win." (Y/n) cheered smiling as she watched Tanaka score a point.

The whole time, as she cheered and assisted Kiyoko during breaks, Atsumu kept glaring at her.

'Stupid squealing pig, not only did I mess up my serve, but now Karasuno won't stop cheering when we serve...'

Atsumu took a sip from his water bottle, and looked over at Osamu and Suna, who were chit-chating quietly.

"What are you two planning now?" Kita questioned.

"You know... Karasuno's manager had a point."

"Which is?" Omimi asked, Aran already knowing what this might be about.

"Tsumu's hair looks like mustard. Not even the good quality one at that."

"SAMU YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" Atsumu yelled as the third years tried to stop the fight.

"What is going on over there?" (Y/n) rose an eyebrow as she handed Hinata his water bottle.

"Who know..."

The game ended with Karasuno taking the win, everyone cheered loudly in happiness and relief. The game was tiring for everyone, and seeing it end was sweet for some and saddening for the others.

"What?" Tobio grumbled as he noticed Atsumu glaring at him, clearly disappointed with the outcome.

"Ya know, I honestly underestimated you, scrub. Thought you were some goody-two shoes, but you are up for dirty tactics."

"What is he even talking about?" Hinata questioned, confused with the whole interaction.

"Doesn't matter, but Shoyo-kun." The orange haired boy looked up at the loud blonde.

"One day, I will be the one setting for you, but until then, I will defeat you at the Interhigh and make sure to outdo you in your own tricks."

Atsumu was about to turn around and leave, only for Hinata's question to stop him.

"How is he going to do that, when (Y/n) came up with those?"

"Hm? Who?" Atsumu questioned, causing the two boys to look at him.

"(Y/n), she is our manager and mostly works with the two of us-"

"Tobio! Hinata! You two were amazing!"

Hinata's explaining got interrupted by the said girl cheering and jumping to hug them both, causing them nearly to fall over.

Atsumu looked at the scene in front of him, glaring harder as he noticed it was the same girl who yelled at him during his serve.

"I am so proud of you two! That was amazing, especially the final point!"

(Y/n) cheered as she let go of the two. Hinata blushed a little from all the praise, but kept his cool. Tobio, seeing how silent Atsumu was, turned to look at him.

"Is there something else you wanted?"

Atsumu snorted and shook his head. The other two looked at him now as well, wondering what he wanted to say.

"No. Just mark my words, during the next match, I will make sure you regret for underestimating my team."

Atsumu pointed at (Y/n), before he eventually turned around and left.

"He is weird..."

(Y/n) said, holding Hinata back, who tried to attack Atsumu over pointing at her.

"Weird, yes. But an awfully good player."

Her twin said back.

A year later, at the Nationals the story was a little different. Atsumu kept on grinning as he watched the defeated Karasuno team packing. He felt elated, nearly satisfied with showing Tobio and Shoyo who the better setter, the better team was.

But his satisfaction wasn't to the fullest without seeing the loud mouthed manager crying.

"Atsumu, where are you going?" Ginjima asked as he watched the captain walk towards the exit door.

"I need to use the bathroom." He simply answered.

"More like going off to see if the Karasuno manager from last year is upset." Osamu commented as Suna snickers.

"Still holding a grudge? You are pretty childish, Atsumu."

"Shut up! You won't understand!"

The trio watched the blonde walk off, a little concerned over the younger girl.

"Atsumu seems... a little obsessed with her, don't you think?"

Ginjima wondered, looking over at Osamu.

"More like seeing her upset above anything. He just won't shut up."

'Where is that squealing nonsense-'

"Yeah, the game was quite tense and really everyone was playing well...No, we are leaving tomorrow, Ukai-sensei said we will have dinner tonight and leave tomorrow during noon. Yeah, we asked to watch Nekoma's match before leaving." Atsumu grinned as he heard the girl talk behind the corner.

He waited behind the wall, hoping to hear her cry or whimper during the phone call.

"Hmm? Our opponents were from Inarizaki tonight, man they came a lot stronger this year. Guess the loss last year hurt their ego a little." (Y/n) chuckled.

'Why...why is she joking and not crying?!'

"Huh? I am a little bit upset, but nothing major. In volleyball you win or lose, and that's fine. Besides, I was pretty impressed with how well the Inarizaki team played this year, it was nice seeing them not relay on their cheer squad..."

Atsumu had about enough at that point, ready to make his presence clear and yell at her.

"Their twins tho...they were quite something. Yeah, the gray haired Miya had some nice strikes, and as much as that blonde one annoys me, I have to admit he is a good player. I can see why he is one of the best setters in the nation."

Atsumu stopped in his tracks and looked at the girl in shock, face slowly turning red from her words. Well, more like how she was saying it, with absolutely no malice or envy. Just pure honesty.

"Yeah I will tell Tobio that, see ya tomorrow!"

The blonde shook his head as (Y/n) walked back to the court, but stopped when she noticed Atsumu standing in front of her.

"Did you need something?" The girl wondered. When she didn't get an answer, she shrugged her shoulders, walking off to her destination,only to be interrupted by Atsumu.

"You aren't upset? On the verge of crying? Your team lost."

"Hmmm... I am upset, but not to that extent. Besides, volleyball is meant to be enjoyed, at leat to me. You take this too seriously, and it doesn't seem healthy for you. There is more to the game, ya know!" (Y/n) said, looking at the older in boredom for one last time, before going back to her previous attempts to get back to her team.

Atsumu watched her silently as his face grew warmer and warmer. The indifference when she talked about the loss was disappointing, but also... refreshing?

He was used to seeing his opponents pissed, distraught or straight up crying, this was something new. Something he was willing to change.

Atsumu wanted to see her...break, be distraught and look at him in awe while crying.

He liked that thought, but for now he will have to work harder for that to happen.

Atsumu smirked and took his phone out, looking at some of the pictures he made Suna find for him.

'Just like that Goody-two shoes of her brother...absolutely no social media or posts. Well, better for me. At least I know that no unknown guys can see her.'

Atsumu wasn't jealous in the past, but now... ever since Suna told him (Y/n) was dating Komori, jealousy was his closest friend. He waited, hoped that the libero would slip up eventually, look at a woman long enough for paparazzi to see, but nothing. The man was fully loyal and devoted to (Y/n), and the she to him. It pissed him off, but also made him fawn over how cute she is by playing the loyal girlfriend.

'I will find a way to break you two up. No relationship is perfect and then... then she will be all mine. As it should have been a long time ago.'

Sakusa wasn't much of a people person, well for loud people like Atsumu and Bokuto maybe, but he did have his fair share of friends, his cousin Komori being one of them.

Love wasn't something he was looking for, nor was he interested in it much. He had volleyball and his studies, and that was enough for him.

Well, until his 2nd year at the Nationals.

He heard of (Y/n) from her brother at the youth camp, thanks to Komori's shenanigans.

Back then he didn't know that the same exact girl would cause him so many sleepless nights and resentment for someone.

Sakusa thought over the past as he glared at his cousinp, who was chatting away with with Suna over God knows what.

'He should be with (Y/n)...protect her and make sure she doesn't get sick. What kind of a boyfriend is he?'

Sakusa's stone cold eyes then turned to gaze at (Y/n), who was talking with a woman he came to know as her older sister. Probably decided to accompany her, he guessed.

His first impression of Tobio wasn't much, a very skilled player who seemed to mostly mind his business. Nothing unusual or special. He wanted to know just one thing, and that was how a no name school like Karasuno, won against Ushijima.

But he could sadly not get a word of interest out of the raven haired boy, only that Ushijima was on top of his game that day, and so was Karasuno.

Komori, being a little uncomfortable with the situation his cousin caused, jumped in and defused the situation.

Sakusa honestly would have gladly stayed away from the setter after, but Komori wasn't having the same idea.

So now he was forced to eat lunch with Komori, Tobio and Chigaya, a middle blocker from Shinzen.

While him and Tobio stayed quiet for the most part, Chigaya and Komori kept on talking about anything that came to their minds.

"Kageyama, you have been a lot on your phone. A secret lover or something?" Komori teased, causing the said boy to quickly look up from his device.

"Huh? I didn't know you were dating." Chigaya commented, surprised by Komori's words, meanwhile Sakusa kept quiet as he ate his lunch.

"No...this is just my sister texting me. She usually does that when going home alone."

"Ah (Y/n)? How is she doing? I am surprised they didn't invite her as a manager."

Chigaya commented, remembering the younger twin from the Tokyo training camp.

"Sister?" Komori wondered as Sakusa looked over at the two.

"Yeah, she is my younger twin and one of Karasuno's managers. I need to call her, sorry." Tobio quickly got up from his seat and went to the hallway.

"I didn't take Kageyama to have a twin, he seems kind of a loner." Komori commented.

"Really? Didn't look like that back with Karasuno. But yeah, she is also really nice, helped out our manager as often as she could. But is pretty quiet." Chigaya said, recalling the memory of the girl.

"So pretty much a copy of Kageyama, except the nice part." Sakusa suddenly said, surprising the libero and middle blocker.

"Well... I guess. The two are both passionate about volleyball, I can say that. While he is more involved in the play on court, (Y/n) manages the tactics and tricks to confuse the other players. As far as I can remember,she came up with some of the tactics used on the court with Shiratorizawa."

That part caught Sakusa's attention, thinking that maybe he is finally on the right track on figuring out what made Karasuno so resilient against the elite school.

'I will have to watch some of their other matches...seems like there was a miracle force from outside, working for them.'

Sakusa thought, watching Kageyama approach their table.

"Ahh...I made a mistake of calling Kageyama over..." Komori commented as he watches his cousin glare at the said setter.

With all the teams arriving at Tokyo's Metropolitan Gymnasium,he did expect Kageyama to show up sooner or later, but not when Sakusa was already in a foul mood.

"Tobio, we need to go. Daichi-san will get upset if we make them wait for too long."

A girl's voice was heard from behind the libero, and he turned around to look at a fairly tall girl, clad in Karasuno's black tracksuit.

Komori blushed a little, finding the girl quite cute, not noticing

"Huh? Oh yeah, sorry (Y/n)." Tobio sounded, turning to look at his sister, who looked nervous with Komori's and now Sakusa's staring as well.

"Well anyways, good luck with your games today."

Tobio said his goodbye and followed his sister to where the rest of Karasuno were.

Sakusa kept looking at (Y/n) retreating figure, his heart beating a little faster than usually.

'So that's the person behind all of those tricks...' The black haired boy thought, then turning his attention to Komori.

The boy, to Sakusa's surprise and disdain, kept on looking at (Y/n)'s figure with a red face.

"What's with that look?"The ace grumbled.

"Kiyoomi...she is beautiful."

'She sure is...' Sakusa thought as he shrugged his shoulders, not liking the way his libero cousin talked about her.

'I need to know more about her!'

And a sure lot he did find out thanks to some of his connections with Fukurodani and Nekoma. The more he found out about her, the more some type of weird and unhealthy love grew in his heart.

Sakusa would do his best to attend as many games Karasuno had after the Nationals. Watchin (Y/n) grow from a shy girl who barely spoke, unless spoken to, into a girl not afraid to speak her mind when needed. While he was displeased with all the boys giving her attention, especially the orange haired boy, he will deal with it soon enough.

Sakusa had already a whole plan set, first he would get to know her, become friends, and he will slowly start isolating her from everyone. Then she will be his, and his only. But one thing he didn't take into account, was her getting close to Komori during the Nationals in their 3rd year, exchanging phone numbers when he wasn't paying attention. And with them both seeing each other less, he was less aware of the little meetings they would have, where Komori would either travel to Miyagi,or (Y/n) to Tokyo.

It was during the last match Karasuno had with his former school. They became a lot stronger, and placed 3rd this year. And while everyone was cheering for the players, Sakusa was watching (Y/n) congratulate her friends and calming the two younger managers down.

It was cute, she reminded him lot of a mother.

'How may kids could we have...maybe 5? That sounds like a good number, she will be so cute carrying my kids.' Sakusa sighed.

Komori looked over at his cousin, and with a heavy heart finally spoke up.

"You like (Y/n), don't you?"

The black haired college student jumped up at the statement and looked at his cousin, not saying a single word.

"Thought so..." Komori grumbled as Sakusa rolled his eyes.

"And if I am? What does it mean to you?"

There was a pregnant pause, and Sakusa stared at his cousin, who was clenching his fists,before he slowly looked up. And the look in Komori's eyes said everything he needed to know.

"Motoya-"

"(Y/n)...she and I have been going out for the past 6 months. And I am serious about her, I want to spend the rest of my life with this girl."

Sakusa felt his world shatter as he listened to Komori's words. His sweet, beautiful (Y/n)... going out with a germ like Komori?! He saw red, but kept his calm.

Komori got up as the people slowly walked away from the area, nobody paying much attention to them.

"With this, I am not asking for your forgiveness or anything, just... Have some respect and move on. One day, you will find someone who will love you...but (Y/n) is mine, got it?"

Sakusa clenched his fists as he finally spoke up.

"Why...why (Y/n)? You couldn't have picked anyone else?"

"I didn't realize your feelings for her till a month or two ago. The way you would bring her up from time to time and... the look you had on your face when she would show up for a second on the TV..." Komori sighed and looked down at (Y/n) again, his glare turning into a soft smile.

"I can understand why you like her, who wouldn't, but it has to stop. I want to bring her over to meet aunt and uncle one day. She is my dream girl."

Komori finished his speech and walked down the stairs to where (Y/n) was.

Sakusa, heartbroken and enraged watched as (Y/n) jumped into the Itachiyama alumni's arms, kissing him on the cheek.

Punching the seat in front of him, the black haired boy got up and walked into the closest washroom.

Since that day, Sakusa was just counting the days a slip up or a crack in the relationship would show, but nothing of those sorts happened. Eventually, Komori introduced (Y/n) to his and Sakusa's parents, the day that happened was his darkest one. She looked so angelic and... ethereal really, Sakusa wanted to yell how much he loved her and how much he deserved to be with her, but he needed to keep his calm. He needed to earn (Y/n)'s trust, because one day something might come up, and he will be there to hold her.

'Motoya...' Sakusa growled as all four glared at his form leading (Y/n) away from them.

"What's so special about your cousin,Omi? What could he possibly have that I don't?" Atsumu growled as they waited for their team to change.

Sakusa shrugged his shoulders, not having an answer either. There was nothing special about Motoya! Sure, he was a professional athlete, but so was he! A even better and more recognized one, so how (Y/n) could pick his annoying cousin was beyond him.

Bokuto kept quiet, the sight of (Y/n) and the libero kissing just killed his already bad mood, and now he just wanted to sit somewhere and cry.

"We need to do something!" Hinata spoke up, all the pent up jealousy, anger and lovesickness, that he built up over the years was killing him.

"And what would that be?" Sakusa wondered.

"Anything! Listen, there is no say if Komori will propose to (Y/n), all those gossip magazines and be himself keep hinting to it! We need to make him loom bad in (Y/n)'s eyes or else..."

Hinata shuddered at the thought of the love of his life marrying someone else.

Atsumu got up from the bench, smirking as an idea finally hit him.

"And I have the perfect plan. Omi, you and your cousin will have a nice long night out." Atsumu giggled as Sakusa looked at the setter in worry, but at this point he'd do anything to break those two up.

Tag list(Idk, it's the people who liked the previous post. If anyone else wants to be added,pls telle me):

@kei-tsuki21 @thebrunetteavenger @sicklyinlove @kittykatiekat @torriblack97 @locogvrl

Thanks for reading,part 2 will be up in a few days! Have a great day/night!

#yandere haikyuu #yandere hq #yandere msby #yandere sakusa x reader #yandere atsumu #yandere bokuto #yandere hinata #yandere shoyo #sakusa kiyoomi #atsumu miya #bokuto koutarou #hinata shoyo #haikyuu kageyama #komori motoya #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu dark content #yandere

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