#matthew tkachuk smut

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

i'd sigh in bliss, even while drowning, if only it was your hand holding me under; your kiss is the most violent death i've ever known.

qh43 x reader: let's take this bitter tension on the water, shall we?

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (have you guys seen his hair, recently?), choking (it's really been too long. too many nice guys), talking (he brings out the best in me), tears (or the worst idk), lots and lots and lots of miscommunication and tension and being kinda mean, obviously i'm forgetting things but all my usual stuff.  please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: thank you for waiting, my favorites. i give you qh43 x doll (on deck). this idea has taken me a long time to flesh out, with lots of work and outlining and such, so i really hope you enjoy. i told myself it was going to be short and it ended up being 16.5k, because i have no self control. i guess i was just in the mood to write angst-filled argument after angst-filled argument, given all the sweet boy content i've been putting out recently (don't worry, that will be back soon enough). and qh43 is my go-to for the sad stuff, for the fights and kisses in the rain (literally, this time). can you tell i was listening to taylor's is it really over? way too much and thought... what if it wasn't? over, that is? obviously, none of this makes any logistical sense, you guys know this. thank you for reading anyways. let's see, what else? loving the nico slut headcanon i'm committing to. also love a good mt19 gap-tooth takeover (is he not the perfect cruise ship fling?). and luke is here, too, for all the people telling me to write for him. i'm sorry, i know the miscommunication trope is frustrating and the one-bed trope is cliche. please, for the love of god, take this as a sign to be clear with people about how you feel. life is too short. i have like one billion baby stories started right now, so we will see for which inspiration proves most fruitful. will it be golf pro cc22 x bevcart girl? geology ta js1 x classics ta? the tj17 one i've been trying to finish forever? none of the above? we'll see. pretty, pretty please, tell me what you think. go canucks (dare i say cup-bound), tell your snakes i love them. until next time. love, always).

as much as you wanted to be completely and purely excited for this little excursion, as much as you wanted this to be a truly undiluted celebration of your best friend's wedding next weekend, something was standing in your way.

"c'mon," the bride-to-be, savannah, said, standing on the pier next to you as you gazed out at the obscenely massive cruise ship, its numerous windows like the eyes of a spider, much too many and much too close together, "you've worked so hard, babe." she gave you a tight side-hug, which you returned. "you've made this whole process so easy, hm? let loose for a weekend, and then, i promise, you can go right back to being the militant maid of honor you are."

you let out a short laugh, let your shoulders settle back into place. "thanks for this weekend, sav," you said. "it's gonna be great." she was right, of course, in some ways, and wrong in others.

you had worked hard, very, very hard, because you cared about savannah, loved her like a sister, and you wanted her wedding to be one of dreams. you liked jack, her fiance, a lot, too, and you liked them together, saw how they brought out the best in each other.

it had been months of making sure everything during the planning process went over smoothly, of being there for savannah when the world felt like it was ending, when the pressure of a wedding felt like it was insurmountable.

when bridesmaids had a little too much to say about their dresses, or when family members had a little too much to say about their hotel arrangements, or when savannah herself had a little too much to say about how it just had to be perfect, you were there, mitigating the worries and stressors and potential problems.

it had been a rewarding but draining couple of months.

savannah had seen that, had appreciated you even more because of it, so her and jack had planned this mini-vacation as a thank you for both of their wedding parties. the big day was next week, so this was supposed to be a final relaxing deep breath before the inevitable whirlwind of white lace and dress shoes and pink flowers.

and it would be relaxing, you were sure of it, you wouldn't let it not be, if only because your best friend wanted it to be so adamantly. it would be a perfect weekend vacation, the perfect cruise getaway, the perfect source of pre-wedding bliss.

it would be, it would be all of these things, as long as you stayed as far away from quinn hughes as was humanly possible.

the brother of the groom, the best man, your counterpart in the wedding, whom you had been fairly successful in avoiding whenever possible, all things considered. you'd been in the same friend group for years, after all, since the end of college. years of averted glances, charged comments that you pretended to ignore, of memories that left your cheeks hot and anger hotter.

you hadn't had a major blowout with him yet, and you were confident enough in your self-control to believe you wouldn't start now. you'd never been confined on a boat with him before, though, hadn't been stuck in a room with him without an escape plan, so that would present a new challenge.

what was every day in the periphery of quinn, though, if not a new challenge? a challenge more devastatingly taxing with each passing moment?

as you and your best friend boarded the ship together, you hoped that you could postpone seeing him for as long as possible. maybe if you stayed in your room the whole weekend, you wouldn't have to see him at all. wouldn't that be fun?

savannah dropped her stuff and told you she was going to find jack, leaving you to unpack your things and enjoy some moments of silence before what would surely be a tornado of a weekend.

unfortunately, as you folded your clothes and organized them in drawers, your mind wandered, with nothing to focus on but your anxieties. your anxiety, personified, in a broad, shaggy-haired, soft-featured best man.

you sighed, as you often did when you thought of quinn, because no, it hadn't always been this way. there had been a single, lovely, dreamy night during which the two of you hadn't hated each other. quite the opposite, actually.

it felt sort of unfair that, even now, years later, he could still evoke such a visceral feeling in you, a kind of hatred you felt in your stomach, a kind of shame that rattled through your skull, a regret that set your chest ablaze. and as much as it pained you to think it, it felt sort of unfair that savannah was getting married to jack, because you had known quinn first. it had been you and quinn, first.

it had been you and quinn, both of you at the just-off-campus bar alone, waiting for your respective friends to show up. you had spotted him across the room, his pretty face made so angelic by the hazy neon light. he had spotted you too, had been so unapologetic about letting his gaze settle in the pockets of your exposed collarbones, then flickering up to meet your careful eyes slowly, heatedly.

it had been you and quinn, in a back booth, once he'd bought you a beer and motioned for you to join him, a precise but easy tilt of his head in invitation. on that waxy bench seat, as time passed, you grew much closer together than you could have made a real excuse for, until the outside of your thigh was pressed up against his, until he angled his shoulder back so you could lean your side on his chest, until there was really no question as to where the night was going to go. where it was going to end.

until he rewrote the script you'd assumed into place, too, because when you talked with him for that hour or so, drinks practically forgotten on the table, friends absolutely forgotten, he wasn't like the one-night-onlys you'd had in the past.

he was pretty, sure, almost embarrassingly so, but he spoke to you so gently, with such care, it stunned you.

when he asked you about your day, you were shocked to find completely genuineness in his gaze.

when you asked about his friends, when they were showing up, you couldn't help but feel a little endeared by his short laugh. "athletes," he told you, then, "most unreliable people on the planet, doll, swear it."

it had been you and quinn, basically melting into each other, in that booth, and it had been you and quinn, at his place, after. when you'd discovered that he tasted like something citrusy, maybe grapefruit, from whatever he'd been drinking, when you'd felt his rough hands on your face, your hips, when his voice had grown low and husky and brutal, barely pausing for even a moment when he pushed into you for the first time, so overwhelmingly deep and hard.

he'd been so gentle, yet undeniable, so tender, but he'd said things that now made you blush.

he'd been the best fuck of your life, somehow also the kind of person you'd truly, genuinely, been able to see yourself developing a relationship with. you'd thought he was a once in a lifetime kind of person.

you'd left his place early that morning to get to class, kissed his shoulder softly in goodbye while he slept soundly.

little did you know that, that next night, savannah would meet jack, who was out with quinn. as such, savannah would introduce you to jack.

"this is my brother, quinn," jack would say to you, eventually, and your eyes would soften at the sight of him as you turned.

you would open your mouth to say something along the lines of oh, we've already met, but then quinn would extend a hand to you.

"nice to meet you," he'd say, stony, cold, and you'd narrow your eyes, search his gaze for anything humorous, come up empty. surely he remembered you, right? it was almost worse to imagine that he did remember, that he just didn't want his brother to know about you. it was almost worse to imagine that he thought you were something to be hidden.

so you'd swallow a breath that felt like a forbidden pill, stare at his outstretched hand with something like disgust.

"yeah, you too," you'd bite out, your hands remaining at your sides, hoping his empty hand felt awkward enough to hurt. "really nice."

so, as much as it had been you and quinn, starry-eyed in a back booth, as much as it had been you and quinn, tangled up in each other as your eyelids grew heavy with sleep, as much as it had been you and quinn, first -

it had also been you, embarrassed and ashamed, and quinn, expressionless and indifferent.

so, what did that night really matter, however life-altering you had thought it to be? he obviously didn't feel the same way. you obviously meant nothing to him.

you had thought that to be a very disappointing end to a chapter. you were ready to move on, but, of course, savannah and jack only grew closer. of course, your friend groups merged. of course, it seemed like you couldn't go more than a few days without an especially painful reminder of exactly how much you weren't wanted, exactly how mistaken you had been.

it had been several years now, and you'd gotten a little better at hiding your feelings, sure, but you wouldn't describe your relationship with quinn as civil. certainly not amicable.

you were both known to have an especially short temper when it came to the other, to become inexplicable hot-headed in their presence. still, no one, not even savannah, you assumed not even jack, knew exactly why. they just assumed you didn't get along. that you were just completely incompatible as people, probably.

now, you took a deep breath, putting the last of your clothes away, zipping up your suitcase and stowing it under your bed. you wouldn't let him ruin this trip for you, you decided in a moment. you would be kind, and lovely, and you'd enjoy the time with your best friends. everything was going to be fine. everything was going to be perfect.

this was the mindset you were carrying with you when you finally made to join everyone else on the deck for a welcome happy hour.

you quickly spotted your group, immediately locking eyes with your other best friend, lexi, who must have just arrived.

she squealed and pulled you in for a hug. "it's been too long," she whined, and you laughed.

"i missed you," you said, and you meant it. for the longest time, it had been you, savannah, and lexi, a trio for the majority of your time at university. guys came and went (for the most part), your circle expanded into friends from classes and clubs and sororities and such, but the three of you were inseparable.

it still felt weird that you didn't get to see them every day, with all of you at different places, some working, some in school. it felt weird that the real world still spun even if you three weren't cackling on the way into a lecture, whispering about lacrosse boy when he walked into a party, whining about midterms in the dining hall. it felt weird to grow up.

"i want to hear about school," you said as you pulled away from her embrace. "tell me everything."

"what, no hug for me, eh?"

you rolled your eyes, immediately recognizing that overconfident voice as jack's best friend.

"hello, nico," you said, sugary-sweet, mustering up a smile. "how's daddy's money treating you?" you didn't like nico, not really, found that he hadn't changed at all since school.

nico wasn't like quinn, though, he never took what you said in a heavy way. he just laughed, and his eyes shone with it. "business is thriving, thanks for asking," he said.

"so humble," came quinn's grumbly voice, somewhere on the line between light-hearted fun and genuine disapproval. you wondered briefly if nico had any more luck reading quinn than you did.

"oh, that's what they say," nico responded, running a hand through his longer dark hair. "the humblest around."

you caught up with lexi about medical school, learned it was somehow even more draining than she expected.

"i wouldn't be able to tell for a second," you assured her, gesturing to your face. "you look insanely well-rested. glowing, practically."

lexi waved you off, but she looked pleased. "don't lie," she chastised, "i wake up everyday and look like i got run over by a truck."

she told you about her classes, and her classmates, and her professors, and you listened intently, always interested to hear about situations you had no experience in.

"sounds hectic," you said, finally, blowing out a breath.

"eh, you know how it is," she responded with a shrug. just then, luke, jack's younger brother, arrived, looking especially disheveled, but you knew him well enough by now to understand that was just how he looked.

he was greeted with hugs and handshakes by everyone.

"you're so big, now," you said, almost teasingly, as you pulled him in for a hug.

he swatted at you, good-naturedly. "lay off, would you?" he said, but when he smiled it was genuine. "not a baby."

you knocked your hip against his, anyways. "happy you're here," you told him.

out of all of jack's groomsmen, you supposed luke was the clear frontrunner for your favorite. nico, the narcissistic playboy, was out of the running, and so was quinn, for obvious reasons.

even without those two, though, you'd developed a soft spot for the youngest of the hugheses. he was a couple of years your junior, but surprisingly mature and well-spoken. he was into football, like you were, too, and had invited you to join his fantasy league before he even knew you that well. now, years later, he came to you for girl advice and you thought of him as the younger brother you never had.

"me, too," luke responded, his eyes alight. when you looked away from him, however, you felt another gaze on your side like a blistering burn, were barely surprised to find quinn's rocky eyes on your side, somewhere between your hip and waist.

his attention sparked something dangerously flammable inside of you, an anger that felt like being coated in lighter fluid.

if quinn had been beautiful the day you'd met him, he was devastating, now, having aged in a subtle way that only enhanced his features, made his jaw sharper, cheekbones more prominent. his hair was a soft shag of brown, curling onto his forehead, at the nape of his neck, the tops of his ears. he'd filled out a bit, too, wider in the chest, softer in the middle. if you had to describe to someone your type, you figured you'd get maybe ten seconds in before realizing you were just describing quinn.

now, his eyes met yours in a clash of flame and ancient rock, immovable and disastrous.

coward, you seemed to say without words, mean, rude, coward.

and, as always, he seemed to say absolutely nothing.

you were being kind, though, you were being lovely, so you just rolled your eyes and made to join savannah and lexi as they chatted by the bar.

the sun set over the distant sky line, making the sea ripple purple and orange as music played from the deck, as more and more people seemed to gather, as drinks flowed easier and voices grew louder.

you caught up with luke about his last year of school, listened to nico talk about his last girlfriend (who he insisted was really, truly crazy, as he had claimed about the last girl, and the one before that), asked jack about how work was going and savannah how her cats were doing. you were including everyone, you were being a wonderful maid of honor, you were being kind and lovely, all while quinn remained oddly quiet, talking only when directly addressed, every now and then looking at you with an intensity that made you dizzy.

what are you doing? you wanted to scream at him, you're not allowed to look at me!

he didn't seem to particularly care about your unspoken wishes, anyways, though you supposed he never had. he just took small sips from his fruity cocktail, and you pretended not to notice how it made his pouty lips more pink, like he was wearing a shimmery gloss. you hated yourself for the way your stomach flipped at the sight.

"so, how's your week been, q?" luke asked him, eventually, taunting him with a smile. "awfully quiet over there. what're you hiding?"

and you shouldn't have done it, it was not very lovely and kind of you, but you gave a light scoff at this. because you knew just how good quinn was a hiding things. people, even.

of course, he noticed. he seemed to notice just about everything, when it came to you, ever the perceptive observer. it was something you'd adored about him, for a night.

"what?" quinn bit out, and he wasn't looking at luke, instead looking directly at you. "got something to say, doll?"

you felt your eye twitch, only just barely, because out of all of his mannerisms and actions that drove you absolutely crazy, this one might be your least favorite. how, after all this time, he still rarely called you anything but doll.

how, now, it was said with such condescending distaste, when it had once been 'm dyin' to kiss you, doll, murmured in a bedroom doorframe. when it had once been give me one more, doll, hm? be good for me, hot against your temple.

"nothing, quinn," you said, with a smile that felt more similar to baring teeth, his name some malicious hex. "don't worry about it."

there was a brief pause charged with meaning, his slate-like eyes boring into yours.

you were the first to look away, to look down at your hand before he finally answered luke's question, went into some noncommittal explanation about work.

eventually, somehow, the conversation veered towards wedding dates.

"wait," savannah said, pausing as if having trouble understanding. "you're telling me that out of all of you, both wedding parties, the only one with a plus-one is luke? and it's not even a date?"

"mackie still counts," luke said, shrugging. "no one said we weren't allowed to bring friends."

"regardless," savannah said, exasperated. "how did this happen?"

nico grinned. "not all of us can be so easily tied down, sav," he said with a wink, to which you and lexi groaned.

"oh, what?" nico retorted, looking at the two of you, "if it really matters, i'll bring a date. hell, i'll bring four dates."

you shook your head vigorously. "do not bring four dates. please do not bring four dates."

"do not make our wedding an episode of the bachelor, nico," savannah warned. "but you guys should bring someone!" her eyes grew wide with excitement. "you could even find someone on the boat!"

lexi whistled.

"do we really want a bunch of strangers at our wedding?" jack mused, joking.

"oh, hush," savannah said, laying a hand on his forearm.

he smiled. "you're right," he conceded, "not like this lot could find dates anyways."

the only people who seemed especially opposed to jack's judgement were nico and lexi.

you just shrugged. you didn't really want to bring a date to the wedding, because you didn't have a serious boyfriend, right now, and you didn't want to invite someone you weren't serious about. you could find a date, sure, it wouldn't be too hard, but that would just be another person to entertain for a night during which you were already going to be pulled in a million different directions.

"okay, so lex and nico are going to find dates," savannah said, then turned to you, "what about you?"

"i'm good, sav," you said, plainly, cordially, with a smile that she returned. you knew that she just wanted you to be happy, and that it probably hurt her to imagine you lonely.

"or you, quinn?" savannah continued.

you fixed your eyes on him, too, as did the rest of the table. as much as you maybe shouldn't have been, you were straining to hear his answer.

"yeah, didn't you say you were thinking of bringing someone? what was her name, again?" jack asked, snapping his fingers as if trying to summon his memory.

terrible envy bubbled through your veins, thick and green, at the mention of quinn wanting someone who wasn't you. at the reminder that he was fully capable of wanting someone, he just hadn't wanted you.

quinn's eyes flashed with something dangerous. "i never told you i was thinking of bringing someone," he told his brother, sounding almost annoyed, his tone sharp.

jack's half-smile told you he knew something you didn't. "my bad," he said, "must've forgotten."

quinn's full mouth twitched to the side, almost undetectable, but of course you noticed. he looked almost angry that jack had suggested that he bring a date. there was the faintest pink across his nose, too, as if he was almost embarrassed.

something heavy settled in your chest, made your throat tight, because you knew what it was like to be embarrassed in a group. to want something so adamantly and have it go the other way in front of your eyes.

as if pulled by some magnetic force, some power fueled by history and shed tears, quinn's eyes briefly met yours, like you were the calm in some hurricane, like you tethered him to the world. for a second, you remembered just what it felt like to be his. just how consuming it was.

but you weren't his, you reminded yourself. so, of course, the anger followed, along with a bloodthirsty self-loathing at your momentary protection of him, your fleeting feelings of sympathy.

you weren't his, and yet he was looking at you now like he was begging you to do something.

"you know what, sav?" you said, although you were looking right at quinn, "changed my mind. think i'll bring a date, actually."

it was quinn's turn to scoff, which had rage rolling in your head like high tide. "yeah, right," he said. "you haven't been with someone in years, doll."

you furrowed your brow, because that just wasn't true, flat out. did quinn actually think you hadn't been with guys since you'd had him?

lexi was the one to laugh. "what're you on about, quinn?" she said. "what planet have you been living on?"

"you think i call you up as soon as i scratch another notch in my bedpost?" you asked, incredulous. "course i've been with guys."

a million emotions rumbled through his eyes like a slow-building earthquake, which made realization spark in your head.

"unless," you started, "unless you haven't been with-"

"i'll bet that you don't end the weekend with a date, then," quinn said, cutting you off as you'd gotten dangerously close to saying something incriminating, something he didn't want others to know.

it took no convincing from you to agree to his bet, even if nico and luke were nudging you on. "you're on," you said, your voice lower than you anticipated.

he hummed, ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, cocked his head in a way that made your nerves spring to life. "and what do i get when i win?"

he said the words like he knew exactly how you'd take them. in a way that made everything else fade away, for a moment, made you forget your audience of friends, made the music lull to a halt in your ears, made the massive deck of this boat feel altogether too small.

"what do you want?" you asked, almost blushed at how rough your voice sounded, promptly cleared your throat again.

his heavy gaze dropped to your mouth, making warning sirens blare in your head. making you so, so angry.

"decide the terms later," jack said, obviously done with this topic, which really only concerned you and quinn, "deal or no deal?"

quinn extended a hand to you in answer, which you stared at for a second, suddenly delirious with deja vu. remembering when he had last went looking for a handshake.

this time, though, you took it, squeezed it so tight you hoped it hurt, although he didn't even wince, held eye contact with you the entire time.

"eager to lose, eh, doll?" he asked, his eyes shining.

"you know me," you said, then, "just so eager." knowing exactly how he would take it. in a way that had his eyes glazing over, just a bit, perhaps had phantom breaths of please, quinn, give me all of it echoing in his mind.

and so your weekend getaway began with a wager.

still, you didn't want your heightening anger towards quinn to take over your vacation, so, the following day, you went about your way as you had been planning on.

you ate breakfast with lexi, explored the boat with sav and luke, finally settled down to read by the pool in the late afternoon.

the sun was bright and big in the sky, so you untied the straps of your swimsuit, so as to avoid tan lines. time passed as you flipped pages, engrossed in your book, until you felt the heat on your body like a scratchy sweater.

at some point, you felt a figure next to you, a big body with a face you couldn't see until you brought a hand up to shield your eyes.

the man blocking the sun from you was a little jarring in his beauty, you realized. handsome in a very different way than what you were usually attracted to. he had curly, curly hair, almost red in the light, a symmetrical face, a prominent gap in his two front teeth that you had the sneaking suspicion he used to his advantage.

he had you smiling up at him, nonetheless. "can i help you, handsome?" you asked.

his mouth quirked at your words as his features settled into a theatrical expression. "you're sweet, princess, but i was actually hoping to help you."

you hummed, bent one knee up until the sole of your foot rested flat on your lounge chair. "were you, now?" maybe this whole finding a wedding date business was going to be even easier than you initially thought.

the handsome stranger squatted down until his hips rested back on his heels, until he was eye level with you. like he didn't want to look down at you. like you were even lovelier head on. he raised a wide hand to one side of his mouth, as if telling you some great secret at a cafeteria lunch table. "just wanted to warn you that your straps are untied," he whispered, gesturing with his other hand to his own shoulders. his smirk told you that he knew it was intentional.

you made no move to retie them, let out a small laugh. "my knight in shining armor, hm?"

his shoulders rose and fell in a telling chuckle. "either that or i just wanted an excuse to come over here," he said. "'m matthew."

"'m flattered, matthew," you said, then gave him your own name. "you don't seem like a guy who needs an excuse, though."

his smirk grew wide. "what do i seem like, then, princess?"

you tilted your head to the side, thought for a moment. "don't know," you admitted, "got the smile of a charmer, though, give you that."

matthew appeared about to respond, but was cut off by the approach of a figure to the other side of your chair, standing at full height, looking down at you and your new acquaintance.

a figure you'd know in the dark, a presence you'd sense while unconscious. quinn drew both of your attention, but said nothing. you pursed your lips.

"what's up, man?" said matthew, maybe a little unsure, in a tone that sort of felt like he was making fun of quinn. "all good?" he didn't push back up to his full height, which you found hilarious and endearing. how he didn't seem even the tiniest bit threatened by quinn, when it was so painfully obvious that he was trying so hard to appear threatening.

you peered up at him, found his blatant discomfort and indecision especially unsettling. "what do you want, quinn?" you asked, annoyance creeping into your voice like moss on a damp rock.

"you know this guy?" matthew said, his grin that of a class clown.

"do you know this guy, doll?" quinn retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, and you rolled your eyes, set your book down beside you.

"quinn, this is matthew," you said, gesturing between the two of them. "matthew, quinn."

quinn didn't move, but matthew's smile grew taunting as he extended his hand out for a handshake.

a handshake that quinn just stared at, briefly, did not make a move to reciprocate, his gaze so solid, relentlessly cold. you could have slapped him, if you didn't have an audience.

matthew just laughed, retracted his hand, finally stood up. "well, i guess i'll be seeing you around, princess," he said, looking right at you.

"until then, matthew," you responded, an easy smile on your face.

he gave you one last charismatic smile before looking to quinn again. "you've been a treat, quinn," he said, little more than a chuckle, raising a hand in goodbye before turning and walking away.

when he was out of ear shot, you looked up at quinn, ignoring the way the sun lit up the high points of his face. "so," you began, dangling one leg off of your chair, pulling the other up to your chest. "when did you officially lose your goddamn mind?"

he scrunched his mouth to the side as if tasting something sour. "haven't gone crazy," he said, basically a grumble, "thought he was bothering you."

you laughed, genuinely, from your stomach.

"what?" he said, and it was sharp, heavy.

"babe, is this guy bothering you?" you said, imitating a comically deep masculine voice before returning to your usual tone. you retied the straps of your swimsuit, not looking at him. "get real. since when do you give a fuck about me?"

he didn't answer, just shifted on his feet slightly, which made the muscles of his thighs tense. you could feel his anger building, looming like some poisonous cloud around the two of you. he was flushed, and you had a feeling it was some lethal combination of embarrassment and fury. it made his eyes almost glow, made his shoulders clench with strain.

"jesus, don't hurt yourself," you said, eyeing the tension that radiated from his body. "not a good look on you."

this made him intimidating, somehow, made the difference in height between the two of you feel substantial, significant. "really, doll?" he said, with a bite that you could taste. history made its stinging presence known between the two of you, made the air sizzle. "don't like me like this?"

you wanted to punch him the stomach, made him hunch over, bring him to your level so he didn't feel so high and mighty. who was he, now, to hint at your history? when he had denied it so grossly before?

you were not the one in the wrong here, you remembered, he was the one who had approached you.

"no," you said, through clenched teeth, "no, quinn, i don't like you jealous."

this seemed to set his anger loose, as you had expected it to, his fists now tight at his sides. "i am not jealous," he said, slowly, almost scarily. "maybe if you weren't showing yourself off like a-"

you stood up, then, your pulse in your ears, your heart in your throat. you laid a warning hand on his chest, the closest you'd been in a long time. "oh, you aren't really about to call me a slut, are you, quinn?" you warned, like a storm siren.

his gaze shot down to your hand before returning to your unwavering eyes again.

"are you?" you pressed, with the strength of practiced patience. he still said nothing, which made you want to pound your fists on his chest, get him to say something, anything. how tired and frustrated you were of his silence. "where do you get off playing tough-guy savior, anyways?" you continued. "you've got no say in who i talk to, just because you've been celibate, apparently, which is absolutely insane-"

"'m not playing anything," was his short response, which had you fuming.

"you're no tough guy, quinn," you said, "you're a coward."

your eyes widened when his smoldered, as he brought a hand up to your face, swiped his warm thumb across your jawline. you would have smacked his hand away, you swore it, but you were lost for a moment, drowning in the touch you'd craved for longer than you cared to admit. "and you're desperate, doll," he breathed, like some terrible caress, "where does that leave us?"

his words barreled through you like a battering ram, cruel and sadistic. because what were you most ashamed of, if not seeming desperate to his indifferent? what were you questioning most, if not where that left you?

it had been you and quinn, first. could you truly say it had ever been over?

he dropped his hand from your face, leaving you cold, lacking, all over again. leaving your breath coming out a little bit short, your lips slightly parted. because as much as his words cut through you like a dagger to the chest, he said them with such softness, such warmth.

making it so painfully clear in your mind just how much you still wanted him, even if he drove you mad. even if he was exactly the reason behind so many of your fears.

"i hate you," you said, but of course you didn't mean it.

"i hate you," he said, but of course he was lying.

your body and mind were still buzzing, practically alight, that night, when sav and jack decided your whole group should go out, try the ship's nightclub on for a few hours.

and you probably would have politely declined, in any other scenario. you didn't go out that much now, not like you did in school, at least. in recent history, you'd found yourself much more attracted to a night in on the couch than a bass-boosted speaker in your ear. however, you supposed, you wouldn't be able to really relax tonight, anyways, not when your blood felt hot in your body, when your fingertips felt as if they were laced with electrical currents.

you felt almost ill with energy, crazed with some awful mixture of shame and desire and annoyance and disgust.

and you sort of hated yourself for how practically demented quinn's touch made you feel, how deranged his undivided attention made you.

it was so, so unfair, and you wished it wouldn't be true. but it was, so you figured you might as well use this energy while you had it, might as well lean heavily into this version of yourself. this version of yourself, whose emotions were blown up, heightened to a magnificent level.

this you, who felt embarrassment like rosy handcuffs around her wrists, who felt want like a leaden crown, satisfaction like a bubbly drink, displeasure like a hand around your neck. who felt danger and challenge like some intoxicating drug.

it was this you who pulled on a tight, short dress, who spent a few more minutes than usual lining and glossing your lips. maybe it wasn't the most level-headed you'd ever been, sure, but you couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so utterly alive.

"holy shit," lexi said when she opened her door, found you waiting to walk down with her, "you look insane."

you smiled. "good insane or insane insane?"

lexi grabbed her small bag and shut the door behind her. "oh, please," she said, waving you off. "almost forgot that you're workin' with all that," she added, which made you laugh.

once the two of you made your way inside, you looked around for your friends, quickly spotted luke sitting at a table with sav and jack.

sav whistled at the two of you as you approached. "holy smokes," she said.

"oh, stop it," lexi teased, making to sit down next to her.

you just leaned on the side of luke's stool, knocked your shoulder into his. "past your bedtime, eh?" you joked.

he rolled his eyes, smiled. "what brings you out of your cave?" he mused. he knew how much it took for you to venture from your room.

you just shrugged. "what if i just wanted to see you?"

he gave a disbelieving shake of his head before tilting it up to look at you head on. "heard you and q had quite the blowout at the pool."

you narrowed your eyes. "wouldn't call it a blowout," you said, and you meant it, because you could have done so much worse. "who told you that, anyways?"

he scoffed. "who do you think?"

you scrunched up your face. you knew how close quinn and luke were, but, somehow, it still surprised you that he had told anyone about what had happened at the pool. it felt weird that, after refusing to acknowledge what had happened between you, he'd tell luke anything about you.

it made you wonder just how much he had disclosed, if luke knew much more than he was letting on.

"what did he tell you?" you asked, curiosity overtaking any of your discipline.

the youngest hughes just gave you a big grin, though, like he'd caught you in something. "i forget," he said, and you hit him lightly on the arm.

you turned your attention back to the table. "where's nico?" you asked, as he was the only one from the group you hadn't really seen that day. you didn't ask where quinn was, even though you really, really wanted to know. was he even here? did he stay in his room, like you had wanted to?

jack gestured vaguely. "haven't seen him since we got here."

"'s probably pretty busy," sav added, "i think the last time i saw him he was up to three wedding dates."

lexi groaned while you hid your face in luke's shoulder for a second.

you sighed, then pushed yourself out of your lean.

"where're you going?" luke asked you.

"to save the feminine population of this cruise ship from hurricane nico," you answered, before patting the top of his head and making for the bar.

the music was louder, away from the tables and closer to the dance floor, crowded with people in bold colors and daring cuts.

you leaned forward on the counter, raised a hand to catch the bartender's attention. the man with the platinum buzzcut nodded to you to signal that he'd be right there.

"how'd you escape your keeper?" a goofy voice said from beside you, and you recognized the confident tone before you even turned.

"good to see you again, matthew," you said, peering up at him with an easy smile. "and i have my ways."

"i don't doubt that, princess, i don't doubt that," he conceded, his grin revealing that gap between his front teeth.

"thanks for waiting," the bartender said, now in front of you two, adjusting his black bowtie. "to drink?"

"two of whatever she's having," matthew said.

"vodka soda, please," you clarified, opening your mouth to protest when matthew wouldn't let you pay.

"let me get this one, hm?" he asked, and he was so steady you knew he wouldn't budge.

you blew out a breath like you were annoyed, but the thought was sweet. "fine," you said, "just this once. thank you."

"anytime," was his immediately reply as the bartender dropped the two glasses in front of each of you.

"thank you," you said to the blonde, eyes searching for his name tag, "elias."

he gave a curt nod in response before being summoned by another patron.

you turned, now leaned your back against the bar counter, crossed an ankle over the other as you again looked at matthew.

"did i mention how beautiful you look?" he said, a lazy smirk on his face, telling you he'd used this line before. it brought a delighted flush to your cheeks, nonetheless.

"that one's a heater," you said, "bet it works on all the girls." you took a sip from your cold glass, found it strong and sharp.

"not all of 'em, apparently," he said, and you let out a laugh.

you chatted pleasantly with matthew for a while, your mission to find nico long forgotten.

fortunately, at some point, you were surprised to see nico himself approach the two of you where you stood, his gait as overconfident as his expression.

"who's this guy?" matthew whispered, his breath hot by your ear as he leaned down. you shivered, could feel his sly smile.

"a clown," you whispered back.

matthew hummed. "you seem to know a lot of those, eh, princess?"

and it shocked you, sort of, how part of you jumped to defend quinn. how part of you wanted to explain to matthew, however stupidly, that quinn wasn't a clown, he wasn't dumb, he wasn't like nico.

what did it matter if this almost stranger thought quinn was an idiot? hadn't he made a fool of himself just today?

"hey, nico," you said, when he was close enough. "meant to look for you." your side glance had you locking eyes with matthew again, warm and inviting. "got distracted."

"no worries at all, no worries at all," nico responded, "i've just been sent over by a certain quinn hughes to see what was going on here, but, as he should have known, i am no errand boy." he gave matthew a knowing look. "and you seem like a great guy." nico's mouth gave an impressed sort of scrunch. "good face, too."

"i like this guy much more," matthew said, elbowing you gently, although you were having a bit of a hard time focusing.

because you'd warned quinn about leaving you be, warned him that he had absolutely and completely forfeited any opinion to be had about your life. and yet, just hours later, apparently, he hadn't learned his lesson.

"where is he?" you bit out, and you had a feeling your smile looked menacing. at least menacing enough to make nico do a double take. "eh, over there," he said, motioning over to the dance floor.

sure enough, your eyes caught on quinn's broad figure, practically indistinguishable from the one close to him, the girl he was dancing with. you rolled your eyes, turned to matthew with sympathy.

he seemed to be anticipating your words, if his slightly disappointed sigh was anything to go by. "well, the keeper calls," he joked, and his easy-going smile made you feel almost sick.

because here was this lovely person, right in front of you, so obvious about his attraction to you. and yet, you were walking away from him. the very thought made anger thrum within you.

"i'm sorry," you said, and it was genuine.

matthew gave a one-shouldered shrug. "don't be," he said, "i'm lucky i even got to see you in that dress." he winked at you before turning to walk away.

you were silent for a moment, blinking.

nico, who'd you'd forgotten had even been there, blew out a breath. "hell," he said, shaking his head, "that guy was a smoke."

"how many dates are you at?" you said, your eyeline still firmly on quinn, on the beautiful blonde girl he was dancing with. you stirred your halfway empty drink.

nico shrugged. "lost track," he said, "why? wanna borrow one?"

"maybe later," you said, then pushed yourself from the counter and began to make your way across the room.

the walk felt much longer than it was, as if a chasm had opened up between you and quinn, jagged rocks lining the walls, some treacherous river running through your legs, drenching your heels.

the walk felt longer than it was, but then you were in front of quinn, and the beautiful girl.

you tapped her on the shoulder, first. "could you move to the side for a second, babe?" you asked, completely apologetic. "don't wanna ruin your dress."

her features scrunched in confusion, but she stepped to the side, as you'd asked. you shot her a grateful look before turning to face quinn, meeting his eye.

you were almost shocked to find warmth, there, so unlike the stony coldness you'd expected from him.

still, you just gave him a facetious smile, short, snarky, before tossing the remnants of your drink at him.

it hit him square in the face, better aimed than you could have hoped. liquid dripped from the strong slope of his nose, down his jaw, soaking his white button down near the collar.

the blonde gasped, brought a hand to her mouth in shock.

you turned briefly to her. "'m sorry for the interruption," you said, genuinely. "you look gorgeous."

as quinn ran a slow hand down his face, wiping alcohol from his forehead, cheeks, you hummed and began to walk away, your stride satisfied as you made for the exit.

you dropped your glass on a table, walked through the doorway, onto the deck of the ship, the darkness of the night, sudden quiet a welcomed change of pace.

you had only just taken a breath when you felt a grip on your wrist, firm but not painful.

"just fuck off, won't you, quinn?" you said, just about done for the night. he just pulled you aside, boxed you against the railing on the deck, the noise of the sea in harmony with the faded beat of the club's mix.

you were so, so, done. you hadn't really wanted to come out, anyways, and then, when you were finally having a good time, he had to go and ruin it, send nico over to check in on you, like you needed some kind of babysitter.

he scoffed, a sound that felt beautiful in your ears, somehow. "think you can just walk away, after a stunt like that?" he said the words like they meant something deeper than just their surface meaning, but you couldn't, for the life of you, figure it out.

you blew out a breath, met his gaze directly.

you probably should have known by now that if there was one word to describe quinn, it was unfair.

unfair, how, drenched in a drink you tossed at him, he still looked this pretty. his hair damp, evident that he had run his hands through it. his features almost enhanced by the liquid that shone on them, his shirt practically sheer, now, drawing attention to his broad chest, corded shoulders. unfair.

maybe you had been wrong. maybe you couldn't handle this weekend. you'd been able to escape him before, for years, always had an easy out during gatherings with friends, always had something else to focus on.

he was everywhere here. he was unavoidable. he was inside your head, whispering in your ear. he was a phantom grapefruit taste on your tongue.

here, you were basically back in his bed, two years ago, back in that bar booth. here, you were surrounded by him.

"you sent nico to spy on me," you said, each word pronounced perfectly clear. you clenched your fists tight as if to restrain them. "how many times do i need to tell you, quinn? who i fuck is none of your business!"

he let out a noise that was half-growl. "you wanted him?" he asked, low and loaded, so painfully so it made your stomach drop.

"what does it matter?" you said. "i can't even speak to someone on this boat, apparently, without you breathing down my neck!"

"it matters," was his reply, spoken so softly, with a cutting bite. "it matters, doll."

you narrowed your eyes, searched his face for some clue. droplets of liquid still clung to his lashes, making his gaze impossibly beautiful.

"it shouldn't," you said, careful. "i'm desperate, remember?" your eyes widened in false despair. "don't you remember, quinn?"

his gaze dropped momentarily to your mouth, hung there just long enough for you to notice. "i remember," he said, so gently it shocked you. like he wasn't just talking about today.

the sea air suddenly felt hot, despite the windy chill. you were acutely aware of how close he was to you, his arms on either side of your waist, boxing you against the railing, his bent knee just barely grazing yours. the warmth of him like a radiator, the smell of him overwhelming.

"enough with the overprotective act," you demanded, willing any shake from your voice. "it has to stop, quinn, i can't do it."

"you can't do it?" he asked, calculated, incredulous. "you can't do it?"

you let out an exasperated huff. "what are you saying?" you pleaded. "jesus, fuck, quinn, all you do is stare and stare and stare and say nothing!"

"what am i supposed to say?" he said, gesturing vaguely around. "what could i ever say to you?"

"maybe try something true!" you said. "give that a shot!" your volume was much too loud, and there were probably people around, but you didn't really care, couldn't even register their presence. as always, with him, no one else seemed to matter, to even exist.

you could feel his chest rise and fall against yours for a moment, a pause so thick it almost felt suffocating. "it hurts to look at you," he said, finally.

and it would have been mean, would have been some cheap shot at calling you ugly, if his voice hadn't broken halfway through. if it hadn't seemed to be the hurt that was really the point.

his arms at your sides felt like something scandalous.

"and yet all you do is stare," you said, almost drowsily. "must be doin' a whole lot of hurting, over there."

something that felt like truth rose and fell between the two of you, light as the salty breeze, dark as the deep water below.

"does it hurt, now?" you breathed, your face so close to his as you peered up at him through your lashes.

his exhale felt like a million words, all jumbled up, offered up to you on a silver platter. he looked almost haggard. "so much, doll," he practically whined, and you wanted to taste his confession on your tongue, wanted to know what his honesty felt like on your lips. if it would feel the same as it did those years ago, if it would feel better.

you raised a careful, delicate hand to his damp face, brushed your fingertips along his hairline, slowly, almost mesmerized. he looked so beautiful, then, the faint light of the deck in contrast with the night making his face angelic in a terrible sort of way. "tell me you hate me," you said, little more than a whisper.

he gave an almost undetectable shake of his head, a rogue lock of hair curling into his face. "i can't," he said, soft, pulled into a trance by your ghost of a touch.

his full lips were so close to yours, and you angled your head slightly to made room for him, wanted all of him just so badly-

"no!" came a loud protesting voice that you immediately recognized as savannah. "do not throw her overboard!"

the two of you bolted apart from each other, a few feet between you, now. your pulse was still a pounding thud in your head, though, your body a sack of candy conversation hearts in all of its deliriousness.

you supposed it would look fairly suspicious, quinn so close to you, his hands so close to you, against the railing of the ship. maybe it did look like he was going to toss you over the edge. you could have laughed at how ridiculous the reality was.

savannah now stood in front of the two of you. you couldn't look at quinn, deathly afraid of what you would find if you did.

"what the hell was that, in there?" savannah demanded, gesturing wildly to where she had come from. she fixed her eyes on you. "since when are you a drink-thrower?"

you mumbled something like since a few minutes ago, i guess.

she huffed, turned to quinn. "and i hear you're sending nico on errands to do your dirty work for you?"

quinn looked at his feet, shifted his weight slightly. "wouldn't call it dirty work," he grumbled.

your best friend took a deep breath. "i understand that you guys don't really get along," she said, evenly.

quinn's gaze shot to you for a second, but you didn't return his attentive stare. you have no idea, you wanted to tell savannah.

"and i guess i should have known better than to trap you guys on a boat for a weekend, but you're adults! and the wedding is in less than a week," she continued, not angry but obviously frustrated. "i'm the one who's supposed to have a meltdown on wedding day, okay? not you two."

"sorry, sav," you said, and you felt bad, really.

she waved her hand. "it's my fault, too," she said, "just, i don't know, sleep this off and tomorrow you'll be able to get off this boat. think we're docking for a few hours, or something."

you sighed, snuck one last look at quinn like a last bite of a shared dessert. evidence of emotion just barely hid under his casual mask, evidence of being affected by you.

"i'll do better, okay?" you said, just to savannah, as you passed her, pulled her in for a quick hug in apology. "i promise."

she hugged you back. "i know it's not just you," she whispered into you ear. "and i trust you."

you nodded, squeezed her a last time before making the trek back up to your room. you passed jack, waiting just off to the side, keeping an eye on savannah, presumably.

"goodnight," you said to him, giving him a feeble wave.

he offered you a smile. "don't tell him i said this," he whispered, "that was one of the best things i've seen in my life."

you rolled your eyes at him as he bid you a returning goodnight.

you spotted lexi, sitting at a table just outside of the club entrance, your eyes widening when you recognized the blonde in her lap as the girl quinn had been dancing with. you smiled, slightly. they looked lost in conversation. they looked good together.

as you turned the corner to the stairwell, you almost jumped, then brought a hand to your heart, let out an alarmed exhale before recognizing nico, making out with a girl against the stair railing in an almost violent way.

you tried to squeeze past the two of them, eventually giving him a light shove. "move, nico," you whisper-yelled at him.

when you finally got past him and up the stairs, you were only a few steps from your door, finally closing yourself back into your room, exhaling a heavy breath, slipping off your heels.

you didn't quite make it to your bed, instead opting to fold a leg underneath you on the floor, lean back against the side of the mattress.

you weren't really sure why you suddenly felt that undeniable pressure on your waterline, that heat at the edges of your face that signaled coming tears.

the breeze through your window was a calming chill as you ran your palms up and down your thighs, trying to bring your breathing back to normal.

it felt like your heart was ten times its normal size, like it was so heavy it was sinking down into your stomach, like an anchor into the ocean waves.

your mind was a flurried rainstorm of quinn's hand on your wrist, his arms by your sides, his chest through his button down. his parted lips, so close to yours, his eyes, so unlike the fixed iciness you'd grown used to from him.

tell me you hate me, you'd asked him, practically begged him, your tone a sinful sort of plea.

i can't, he'd answered, like your request for the truth was some binding promise, like your pure want was some altar-laid sacrifice.

you went to sleep that night jittery, dreamed of slate eyes and stolen touches, glances that meant something stark.

of course, the next day, the last full day of the cruise, your energy had not dissipated. it left you just as uncertain and edgy as ever, because now, you wondered what quinn would do when he saw you.

more probable than not, you knew, he would do nothing. he would probably pretend like, just last night, he hadn't been about to kiss you, like he hadn't confessed to something monumental.

he would probably revert right back to staring, staring, staring, and nothing more. he might even revert back to hating you, for all you knew.

and then there was the part of you, a scary, maybe delusional part of you, that believed that maybe last night had changed something. that maybe he would do more than just look, that maybe you'd do more than just fight, that maybe this time would be different.

oh, how you wanted it to be different.

it had been you and quinn, first. how you wanted it to be you and quinn, now.

at the very least, you thought, as you got ready to leave, you'd have a way out, this time. you were finally getting off the boat, going to the beach for a few hours.

if he got to be too much, you could just walk away, this time, like you had grown used to in the past.

it was this positive outlook that you clung to as you made your way off of the boat, meeting up with luke on the stairs.

"and where were you last night?" you asked, after greeting him, raising a questioning brow.

he gave a playful eye roll. "no where as exciting as you," he said, teasing. "almost getting tossed overboard, and all."

you smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "i did not almost get thrown overboard," you clarified, "i was having a civilized discussion with your brother."

luke hummed. "were you?" he asked, "not quite what i heard."

"when did you become such a gossip, hm?" you pestered, stepping off onto the dock, exhaling with slight relief at the feeling of solid ground underneath your feet.

he shrugged. "people tell me stuff," he said, simply. he didn't have to clarify who people were.

you narrowed your eyes. "how much stuff?"

luke met your gaze, and there was an understanding there that scared you. "enough," he said.

you looked at your feet as you stepped onto the sand, found it warm, calming. "oh, great," you mumbled. you could only imagine what quinn must have said about you. how desperate and deluded you were, how you had gotten so attached to him after a single night, how you'd suddenly grown so malicious towards him as soon as he didn't return your feelings. your head hung, just a bit, because you hated to think that luke, someone you trusted and cared about so much, would think this of you, just from hearing it from quinn. "shocked that you even hang out with me, then, honestly."

you could feel luke's gaze on you like the sun. he cleared his throat, making you look up at him. "think, uh," he began, scratching the back of his neck in a nervous sort of habit. "think maybe you should just talk to him."

you laughed, spotting savannah and jack setting up an umbrella further down the beach. "because that's worked so well for us," you joked, but your heart jumped in your throat. because, oh, how easy it felt to refer to yourself and quinn as an us.

luke just shrugged. "it's worked better than the alternative," he said, putting his towel down before making to help jack with beach chairs.

his words stuck with you, suspended in your mind, for a moment, because he was right. you realized, however painfully, that you would prefer a screaming match with quinn by the pool to silent staring across the room at a gathering with your friends.

you'd take an excruciating argument with him over feigned, false civility any day of the week.

there you stood, your feet in the sand, looking out at the water, and you finally understood that you'd take all of the ugly, all of the hurt, all of the cold, if only it'd give you all of him.

"uh, you good?" sav said, giving you a confused look as she registered your quiet stillness.

you shook yourself from your mind, smiled at her. "all good," you said, and it was true.

lexi joined with the blonde from the night before in tow, whom she announced as erin.

you gave erin a guilty smile when you introduced yourself. "sorry again about last night," you said.

erin waved you off. "don't worry about it," she said, "that was the most dramatic night out i've had in forever."

she set up her towel next to you and lexi, and you quickly found how easy she was to talk to.

nico ambled his way down, at some point, eyes hidden behind massive sunglasses, a baseball cap on his head, a giant hoodie on despite the heat.

jack laughed when he got close enough. "the feds onto you, or something?" he said, referring to nico's ridiculous getup.

nico's pretty face contorted into a scowl. "i'm never drinking again," was his rough reply as he sat down on a towel, practically hissing at the bright light of the sun.

"yeah, right," you laughed. "you said that last time."

"fuck off," nico grumbled, hanging his head between his bent legs.

"oh, don't be mean, nico," savannah said, "it's not our fault you can't hold your tequila."

luke's face scrunched up is distaste. "you were drinking tequila last night?" he asked, "when did you join delta gamma?"

nico made to protest, but you didn't hear it, not really, because you were distracted.

your attention had strayed to where quinn now stood, right beside luke's chair. his approach had been silent, practically stealthy, but he was here, and he was looking at you.

the conversation around you seemed to fade away, to dip down deep below the gentle waves that lapped at the shoreline.

it was still a shock to your system every time you saw him, even though you'd known each other for so long. maybe it was an even greater shock, now, because you weren't quite used to seeing so much of him, of getting so much of him, on back to back to back days.

after being practically starved of him, or at least of his true emotions, this weekend had felt like being drowned in him, held under the water by your throat until your vision swam and your chest was on the edge of exploding.

it didn't help that the way he looked, now, in broad daylight, was so brutally stunning that it stole your breath.

he looked almost weary, the shadows of his face defined and sharp, his jaw rough with stubble. maybe he'd tossed and turned all night, as you had? maybe he'd dreamed of you, too?

your languished gaze caught slowly on his bare arms, returned reluctantly back to his face. he appeared to be just barely on the cusp of, well, something, spurred on by your obvious attention, something alight in his eyes that made your stomach flip.

you felt your cheeks grow hot, bit your lip, slightly. when he was looking at you, like this, you could all but hear his firm rasp in your ear, feel his callused hand tug at your hair.

you looked away, down at your hands, afraid that your eyes were giving too much away, afraid that he could somehow tell exactly what you were thinking, exactly what memories his presence was bringing to mind.

everything felt overheated, and not just because of the sun.

time passed at an agonizing pace. hours during which you could sense when he was looking at you, could feel his stare like a bullet to the heart. during which you would occasionally look back, meet his heated, cryptic eyes, silently beg him to do something, to do anything.

but, for hours, he didn't, and you grew angrier, more fiery with every passing second.

of course he would do nothing, you tried to rationalize, this was quinn you were talking about. this was quinn, in front of all of his friends, so of course he would pretend like you were barely there.

the hurt of it all made you feel almost seasick, woozy and disbelieving, mentally grasping wildly for something to grab on to.

the hurt of him made you seasick, the whole of him made you lovesick, but what did it matter, you thought. at what point were you not just dizzy over him?

"i'm going for a walk," you said, abruptly, getting up and mumbling some affirmation when sav reminded you the boat was leaving soon, so you should hurry back.

the sand shifting under your feet, the pleasant chill of the water at your ankles, you wanted it to calm you down, you wanted your escape plan to calm you down, like it had so many times in the past.

that's what you'd said all weekend, wasn't it? that it had been so hard to be around quinn without a clear way out?

you wanted to scream, felt heat prick behind your eyes, because here you were, walking away, and it didn't feel any easier. you didn't feel any relief, any satisfaction.

he was back there, and you were here, and it didn't look like last night had changed anything, for him. it didn't look like you were as life-altering a person as he was, for you.

the thought made slow, hot tears finally, finally break through. you blinked hard as you continued to walk, the pressure in your head painful, scorching droplets hanging onto your throat before falling to the sand below.

you had no idea how long you had been walking, how long you'd been crying, but eventually, you looked up, and realized it was actually getting darker. the sun was much lower in the sky, the wind a bit quicker. clouds had began to creep in, making it grey and ominous.

great, you thought, rain on your impossibly long walk back was exactly what you needed.

you stilled, looked down at your feet, let out a deep, heavy breath, watched the water twist and pool around your ankles. maybe you could just stay like this forever. maybe your body would eventually decompose into the damp sand and smooth pebbles, turn into something beautiful.

"jesus, doll, there you are."

your head whipped back as you turned around, found a slightly out of breath quinn now in front of you. you blinked at him, your lips shut. was this some trick of the storm? what was he doing here? how dare he follow you?

your eyes didn't leave his, as you watched his gaze visibly soften so beautifully when he took in your face.

it must have been bad, you thought, evidence of crying for however long all over you. your cheeks must have been splotchy, your lashes clumped together, your lips puffy, eyes red.

this vision of you seemed to sober him, to make his heightened breathing cool down to something more composed.

he exhaled, braved a step closer to you, now only a foot apart. his gaze dripped down you in a way that had you wanting to just sink into the earth. "doll," he began, almost a warning, "you been crying?"

you didn't say anything, for a second, didn't indulge his obvious question with a response.

"what are you doing here?" you said, eventually, but it came out like a statement, a whisper, as you messily wiped your face with the back of your hand.

he had the gall to blink back at you, as if confused, that sorry softness still drenching his face, his posture. "you'd been gone for a while," he began, "the boat was leaving, and i just-"

"do you just want to fight, again?" you asked, your blood growing hotter with each second he was here, so close to you. you hated how wobbly your voice sounded, how resigned you already seemed to be. you peered up at him, felt your heart crack in two. "do you know your lines, yet, quinn?"

"i don't want to fight," he said, and conflict burned bright across his gaze, indecision.

"should i start or you?" you pressed, ignoring his admission, "how many times do i have to make a fool of myself before i finally stop expecting you to act like i matter?"

his breath was sharp in silence. the wind whipped your hair around your face, sticking to your tear-stained cheeks.

"of course you matter," he said, almost incredulous, like the whole idea of thinking otherwise was ridiculous.

your laugh was bitter, mean. "oh, of course," you bit out. "of course, right? how could i not be able to tell? you say you don't hate me, but you won't even talk to me in front of our friends," you swung you arms about in gesture. "jesus fuck, quinn, you almost kissed me, last night, and today it's right back to whatever bullshit we've been pulling for the last two years." you looked away from him, so overwhelmed with emotion. "it wasn't me who ruined this whole thing."

"you think i ruined it?" something equally terrifying and lovely melted across his eyes.

you scoffed. "it wasn't me who pretended like we'd never met," you snarked. you could almost sense a well of feeling rumbling through him like a cresting wave.

"you left!" he finally rasped, the most emotion you'd seen from him, maybe ever, his voice echoing in your head as the wind continued its assault, as small raindrops began to fall. "you left, doll, okay? i thought that night was special, but i woke up alone," he said, and it was so gravelly, sad, you felt it in your teeth.

you blinked, watched his chest rise and fall in heaving breaths. how could that be true? it dawned on you that you barely remembered much of what you did that morning, having focused so intently, for so long, on him. was it possible this whole thing was a misunderstanding?

"so you pretend not to know me?" you pressed, rain cold on your legs, your face, an icy contrast to the hot tears that had stopped flowing.

he gave a resigned gesture, blew out a breath. "i was embarrassed!" he said, "i am embarrassed, okay, doll? it's fucking embarrassing to be so into someone and then have them leave without saying goodbye, alright?"

your split heart thumped despite its brittle ache. there was a pause as you both registered just what the other had just admitted to.

both of you were soaked, now, rain dripping down your faces, but you didn't feel cold. you felt as if every inch of your skin was on fire, like your heart was trying to claw its way out of your chest.

you didn't know what to say. he had laid all his cards on the table, right in front of you, given you the honesty you'd been begging him for.

"and, you know, you wanted to kiss me, too, last night," quinn said, finally, defensive, hot, a thermometer approaching the highest temperature. as if the fact made it easier on him, somehow, as if it was a thread tying him to the earth, keeping him from floating away. "it wasn't just me."

you groaned through clenched teeth, a guttural sound. "of course i did! of course i want to kiss you!" you almost yelled, laying a tight fist on his solid chest, just barely holding back from slamming it into him.

his eyes were a forest fire, then, as your choice of words registered, a pause heavier than rock between you.

"wanted or want, doll?" he asked, and it was a breath, a whine, a plea as he allowed himself to wrap a heavy arm around your waist, pull you closer to him, until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. the closest he'd been, dizzyingly close, like a dream.

you realized your mistake even in your dazed state, how he'd said you'd wanted to kiss him the night before. how you said you want to.

you could have easily laughed him off, said it was a tenses slip-up. you unfurled your fist, instead, laid your palm flat against his chest, perhaps imagined his heart beating in your grip.

he had been so honest with you, after all, had finally told you the truth. the least you could do was return the favor.

"want," you all but whispered, gazing up at him through raindrops and vulnerability.

what was and what could be melted away in a single moment.

he was a blur of relief and desperate motion. "thank fuck," was his murmured groan as he took the side of your face in a rough hand and guided your lips to his in a kiss that felt like a feat of nature one million times more impressive than the storm that blew around you.

it had been years of countless petty fights and cruel misunderstandings, of bitter jealousy and longing gazes, of deifying the last time you'd had quinn, like this. and yet, still, it was so much better than you remembered. he was.

the way he clutched at your hip like he couldn't bear to let you go, not anymore, not this time. the way his hand on your face was so firm, but so gentle. that undeniable faint grapefruit taste, so completely him.

how you melted into his chest, wrapped your arms around his neck, just wanting him closer, closer, just wanting him so close that you'd never be apart again.

you whimpered against his mouth when his teeth pulled lightly at your bottom lip, like some punishment for all you'd put him though. you just rooted your hand in his hair, now soaking wet, tugged at the curls near his neck, in your own kind of retaliation, until he gave a choked moan of his own.

that's for what you did to me, the soft sensation of pain screamed at both of you.

but his chapped lips moved with such intention against yours, like he wanted to swallow down all of the tears you'd cried over him. your body against his felt so right, so warm and comfortable even in the wet and cold weather.

but this is for what you are to me, was the ultimate response, communicated wordlessly through your kiss, through his.

at some point, you both pulled away, only just slightly, your forehead leaning against his as you both caught your breath, so elevated. his stony eyes were so molten, so clear and telling, as he traced his thumb down your jaw, finally wrapped both arms around your back and clasped his hands.

the silence was so beautiful, for a while.

"did the boat really leave?" you asked, dazed, finally, your voice low, husky.

quinn just nodded. "jack said they'll reimburse us for the night if we stay at the inn downtown," he explained, looking around to locate the road, the civilization that existed outside of your perfect bubble. his eyes found you again, something like mirth hidden in there, somewhere. "probably should get out of the rain."

your swollen mouth quirked up in a half-smile as you nodded your agreement, let him hold your hand in his as you made the short walk to the inn jack had been referring to.

you checked in together, ignoring a slightly confused look from the person at the desk, probably at the fault of your rain-drenched appearances. quinn made to grab some overnight necessities at the supermarket next door, kindly letting you take a warm shower while he did so.

when you opened the door to your room, you quickly realized that there was only one bed to share between the two of you. your stomach rolled at the thought, at the pressure that would exist, or not exist, when he returned. at the question of how far you were going to take this. your heart hurt at just how far you'd take it, take him, if he'd let you.

the thought vibrated through you as you let the warm water wash away the day's wear from your skin, eventually wrapping yourself up in a towel.

you hadn't realized how late it was, the quick storm messing with your conception of passing time. it was almost nine by the time quinn got back.

he closed the door behind himself, and the clicking noise that followed felt like something serious as he turned to face you, set the bag of things he had gotten on the dresser.

he cleared his throat as his gaze caught haphazardly on your bare shoulders, the slope of your neck, then finally registering the bed that you were sitting on, the singularity of it. he flushed down to his collar, making butterflies flutter to life in your chest.

he eventually averted his gaze enough to maintain a glimpse of dignity, opening the bathroom door. "got some stuff for you in there, doll," he called, gently, over his shoulder before he shut the door behind him, seemingly to take a shower himself.

you tried not to blush, because you were too old for that, too mature. you exhaled, tried to convince yourself that you would be fine no matter what happened, tonight. you'd kissed, sure, and there seemed to be an air of lightness, of understanding between you, but that didn't necessarily mean you were entirely past all of your issues. that didn't mean quinn wanted to move as fast as you did.

you distracted yourself by going through the bag on the dresser, trying to put together some semblance of your nighttime routine. the clothing options, understandably, must not have been plentiful. you smiled, laughed lightly as you pulled out the tshirt he'd gotten for you to change into, which was one of those touristy ones that read the person who bought me this shirt loves me very much!

and it was obviously because there had been no other options, but a piece of you clung to the sentiment, dug your nails into the flesh of it so hard it began to bleed.

regardless, you got ready to go to sleep, pretended to ignore when you heard the shower head turn off, the bathroom door eventually open, averted your gaze and forced away your blush upon quinn's reappearance.

the air of the room felt almost metallic, tangible, like it was rattling around the space instead of flowing.

you knew it was partially due to the way he looked, now, damp and flushed from the warm water, his chest bare and broad, a towel slung low on his hips. you swallowed, looked up at the ceiling, as if there was something very interesting up there. as if there was anything more captivating to you than him.

he pulled on the cheap clothes he'd gotten for himself, went through the motions of his own little routine, all while you pretended to be on your phone, scrolling through apps but not retaining even a bit of information.

"good if i turn the light out?" he eventually asked, soft, to which you nodded, consenting to the darkness that followed, the rustling of comforters and sheets as he joined you on the bed.

you set your phone down, tried to close your eyes, but you couldn't relax, not with him just so, so close, not with so much that you still wanted to do. not with years of complete lack weighing on you, not with the memory of his lips on yours so beautifully fresh in your mind.

you were turned away from him, a bit of space between you, but you could somehow feel that he was awake, too, that he was just as aware of the energy and expectation that coated the two of you like a watery film.

the texture of the inn's cheap sheets felt grating and terrible against your hot skin, made you restless, rubbing your legs together against the other slowly, fussing with your pillow, tediously careful to not make contact with him.

"doll," was quinn's inevitable comment, more of a warning, a statement, spoken low and rough, rumbling through you.

you didn't turn to face him, but stilled. "sorry," you mumbled, your cheeks warm.

"what's wrong?" you could basically feel the words on your back, the heat from his breath, his body.

you exhaled, still refusing to face him head-on, knew you'd be done for if you did. "nothing's wrong," you whispered.

he hummed, almost like this was amusing to him. "can feel you thinkin' from here," he said, soft. "tell me."

the pause before you spoke was solid, weighted. "just don't want to go back what we were before," you said, and it was the tone of a beggar, so honest in want. "just want this time to be different."

then he reached his arms out, wrapped them around your middle, pulled you back against his soft frame. you swore you must have exhaled a thousand anxieties as you melted into him, shifted your hips back against him.

"i want that, too," he admitted, and you could barely stop your smile as you finally turned to face him, undeniably beautiful even in the darkness.

"really?" you asked, not caring for a second how pathetic it sounded, how glutted with hope, almost childlike.

you felt his nod more than saw it as his grip around you tightened, his hands firmly grasping the flesh of your hips as you reached up, traced your fingers along the edge of his jaw.

"i'm sorry i left," you breathed, and you could feel his chest contract at your apology. "i never wanted to hurt you."

"i'm sorry, too," he said, "'m sorry i acted like you didn't matter to me, doll." his tone dripped with meaning. "'m sorry i lied."

your mouth quirked. "done a lot of lying, haven't we?" you mused. it was honestly impressive, how long you'd both kept up the charade.

he mumbled some affirmation that you felt against your forehead, the heat of it making you rub your calves together, again. "still nervous?" he asked.

you peered up at him. "not nervous," you clarified, "i just-"

you exhaled, lowered your gaze, almost stumbled over your words, because how could you tell him exactly what you thought?

how could you say all i've wanted for years is for you to touch me like you did that night?

somehow, maybe because he was feeling something similar, he seemed to know exactly where your head was, exactly the dilemma that existed in your mind.

"ask me," he said, hard, firm, "ask me, doll. know i like you desperate."

you whimpered, because his words could have been a taunt, had been a taunt before, but not this time.

because you were desperate, only for him. and he wanted you anyways.

"i need you, quinn," you whined, gathering his shirt in a clenched fist, "fuck, i need you so bad."

that was enough, though you supposed the truth had always been enough, for the two of you.

it was enough for his lips to crash against yours for the second time, that night, this time so soft, no longer fueled by anger or revenge but by something lovelier, slow burning, something you felt in your feet.

your lips parted almost immediately in a soft moan, making space for him as his hand braced the back of your neck, holding you tight as he shifted you so that he was on top of you, the weight and solidity of him almost oppressive, if not exactly what you'd been craving for so long.

he kissed you hard, adoring, like he wanted the outline of your mouth imprinted on his forever, as his other hand traced down the side of your body, eventually stilling to push your searching hips into the mattress.

"be good, doll," he murmured against your jaw, leaving messy kisses down your neck that had your throat feeling tight.

"can't," you whined, grasping for the curls at the nape of his neck, lifting your hips again to try to get some kind of friction against his lap. "can't, baby, been waiting so long." you tugged at his hair as his hand rested heavily on your inner thigh. "been wantin' you forever."

he let out a groan, finally moved his broad hand to tug your clothes aside, run his fingers through your folds. "yeah?" you could feel him smile against your neck as your breathing picked up, as he just barely grazed your clit, making you squirm. "been thinkin' 'bout me?" he asked. "'bout the last time i fucked you?"

you whimpered, nodded feverishly, because you had been thinking about it. a day rarely went by that you didn't think about it. it felt like something mythical that it didn't have to be just a memory anymore, that he didn't have to be your haunted house. that he could be here, with you, like this.

he pushed a thick finger into you, urging a strained sound from your throat. "'s okay," he cooed, watching you adjust to the pressure, the sensation.

he began a steady pace, adding another finger, making the slick sound of you seem to echo off the thin walls of the inn, making you wonder briefly if there was someone staying in the room next door. such a concern was quickly overwhelmed, though, as you got used to the stretch of his fingers, began to hunger for something else.

"know 've been dreamin' 'bout you, don't you?" he asked, moving his fingers faster, "fuck, got me all worked up, all those times, doll." his smirk grew arrogant. "so mean of you."

you clutched at his tense forearm. "''m sorry, quinn," you begged, rough and wild, "please, baby, please fuck me."

he slowed his pace, let you paw at his clothes before helping move them out of the way. "ask so pretty for me," he praised, spitting into his hand, pumping himself up and down, so hard and hot against you as he lined himself up, his voice dipping down even lower, somehow, like he was speaking only to himself, as if in a dream. "been dyin' to fuck you."

you whined when he began to push into you, the stretch dizzying, making your vision swim, your chest tighten. you grabbed a fistful of a sheet with one hand, the other arm grasping for him, eventually looping around his neck, your nails digging into the tense muscles of his shoulders.

his exhale was a shudder, one you felt so deeply, so intimately, one that told you that he was feeling a similar way to you - like you were being pulled between memory and reality, what was and what would be.

the pressure felt impossible as he bottomed out, let you adjust to him. "you're, fuck," you bit out, squeezing your eyes shut, "'re bigger than i remember."

someone else probably would have smirked, said something self-satisfying, but he didn't, seemingly too lost in the feeling of you around him, of having you, like this. "open your eyes, doll," he said, strained.

you gave a slight shake of your head in protest, knowing exactly what your refusal would do to him, knowing exactly the roughness it would bring out as he began to fuck into you, slow and deep, so overwhelming and perfect you could have cried.

"don't be a brat," he ordered.

a greedy smile fell across your lips when you felt his warm palm on your throat, his hand squeezing just barely, just enough feel him, everywhere. you opened your eyes, met his dark gaze, felt yourself clench down so tightly around him.

his rhythm grew brutal. "still like that, do you, doll?" he groaned, to which you whined at the insinuation that he remembered every detail of that night the way you did. that he had remembered what you liked and didn't like so vividly, even now.

"more, baby," you pleaded, feeling your head grow fuzzy with pleasure, that pressure inside of you so extreme, heat bursting through your waterline like you were about to cry. "fuck, quinn, need you harder."

"yeah?" he rasped, releasing your neck and bringing his hands down to tease your clit, making your back arch up off of the mattress, your hips jolting. "'f you needed a good fuck, doll, should've just asked."

you whimpered at his words, so cruel, but they pushed you impossibly closer, regardless, as he placed a wide palm on your lower stomach, intensifying the sensation. "i needed it," you babbled, feeling the wet feeling of hot tears on your cheeks but not really registering anything besides him, "needed your cock, baby."

he groaned, looked up for a second as if praying. maybe he was. maybe this was something worth praying for. "can feel you close, doll," he said, his thrusts growing wild, his face flushed with exertion, "give me it, hm?"

"'m gonna cum," you breathed, not recognizing your husk of a voice as you rooted your hand in his hair.

"cum on my cock," he said, a plea, "fuck, doll, been so perfect for me, waited so good."

you came apart at his words, your vision growing dimmer even in darkness, your thighs tensing as you felt your high trigger his own orgasm, warm and wet, his rough groan louder than even the storm-heightening waves outside, somehow more powerful.

his heavy body collapsed atop yours, both of you damp with sweat, your hair sticking to your tear-stained face, his soft curls to the back of his neck. you could feel every exhale against your chest, every twitch of his muscles in your bones.

at some point, he rolled off of you, pulled you against him, so, so tight, like letting you go would be something unforgivable. his arms around you felt like a million apologies, like something solid underneath you, finally, after being seasick and dizzy for so, so long.

he traced a drowsy thumb under your eyes, collecting the remnants of tears you'd barely noticed you'd shed.

"that good, eh?" he rasped, and you could hear his smile.

you rolled your eyes, couldn't stop your own grin as you playfully slapped him on the chest, relished in his low laugh against your hand, into your hair. "hey, can i ask you something?" you said, propping yourself up on your elbow.

"'course," he said, and that alone felt like something too lovely to be true.

"will you be my date to the wedding?" you asked, and your smile grew wider at his obvious conflict of interest. "even though it means you'll lose our bet?"

he groaned, rubbed a hand over his face. "fine," he said, his eyes flashing in the dark, "but only 'cause you look so pretty like this."

you gave a light noise of excitement in celebration, leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. "and for my prize i choose," you said, trailing off, thinking, tapping a finger to your mouth in contemplation before pointing it at quinn. "you."

his gentle smile was something surreal as he pulled you even closer to him, your cheek against his chest. "done," he breathed, and when he pressed his lips to the top of your head, it was something right.

when you finally reconvened with your friends the next day at the port, savannah approached you first, pulling you in for a hug.

"i'm so sorry," she said, "i wanted to stay and wait for you, but quinn said he was going to go by himself, and then luke said i shouldn't-"

"it's okay," you said, "it all worked out. we're here now, safe and sound."

savannah's brow quirked. "you seem awfully chipper," she observed, taking a step back as if to get the full picture.

you smiled at her, and you could feel quinn smile too, next to you, your stomach flipping when he looped a hand around your waist and pulled you to him, his grip strong and sure.

sav's eyes went wide, lexi laughed. nico whispered something to jack, luke gave an exaggerated fist pump.

"well," savannah said, "took you long enough, jesus."

"wait," you said, slowly, "you knew?"

she waved you off. "of course i knew, i'm your best friend."

you gestured around to the group. "who else knew?"

lexi raised her hand as if in a classroom. you nodded, invited her to speak up. "like knew that you guys fucked a couple years ago?" she clarified, "or knew that you guys secretly were super obsessed with each other?"

"because the answer to both of those questions is yes," nico piped up from the back.

quinn was silent, his low laugh against your neck as he clasped his arms around your front, pulled you back against him.

you turned your neck to look up at him. "did you tell them?" you asked.

"i told someone who probably told them," he mused.

you fixed your gaze on luke. "you absolute drama queen," you scolded, though you were smiling.

luke put his hands up in the air in surrender. "not my fault," he said, "we would have figured it out, anyways. not like you two were doing a good job of hiding anything."

"he's got a point," quinn whispered just behind your ear.

you sighed. "fine," you conceded. "i forgive you. and i forgive all of you for abandoning me in some random seaside town."

nico huffed. "yeah, really slummin' it, eh?" he asked, "you were at a bed and breakfast for a night with your pretty-much boyfriend. relax."

quinn pinched your hip, which made you smile. "so, where are we dropping nico off?" you asked, "might i suggest a deserted island?"

"finally gets the guy she wants and suddenly she's got jokes," nico muttered.

you felt quinn smile against your neck, and you smiled, too.

the wedding, the next weekend, was exactly the beautiful occasion you knew it would be, with only the most predictable of issues and the most simple of solutions.

you walked down the aisle with quinn, whose touch on your waist lingered right before you split apart to stand on opposite sides of the altar. when you both stilled, you shared a soft smile that felt like home.

lexi walked next, arm and arm with nico. erin was somewhere in the pews, as her and lex had really hit it off, and you were pretty sure about four girls here were under the impression that they were nico's one and only date.

luke walked by himself, a ring-bearer and flower-girl, of sorts, his tie a little too loose, his suit jacket too wide in the shoulders. his friend-date, mackie, you remembered, gave an emphatic cheer when luke tripped over the carpeted aisle, stumbling on his feet.

finally, sav walked down, looking just so beautiful, alight and glowing with the sort of beauty that comes with being a kind person surrounded by those you love.

it was a beautiful ceremony.

the reception was distinct in its energy, heightened by an open bar and big dance floor.

you danced with your best friends, smiled as you watched jack and sav enjoy dances together, laughed as nico tried to juggle his several dates.

"might not have been the best idea, eh?" you asked him, once, when he passed you and luke on the dance floor.

he made a pft sound, waved you off. "i can handle it," he said, his eyes suddenly filling with alarm, "but if you see the redhead, warn me."

you danced goofily with luke for a bit, giggling at his awkward moves, mimicking them in an exaggerated way.

when the songs grew slower, lazily, you felt a hand on the small of your back that you'd know anywhere, that you'd known even in absence.

"mind if i cut in, lukey?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes at his funny wording, but luke complied with a smile, and then it was the two of you, quinn's hands around your waist, yours looped around his neck, your fingers playing softly with his hair.

"you look really pretty, tonight," you said to him, unable to hide your smile, and it was true. his unruly hair, sharp features, full lips, it was distracting. that, combined with his pressed pants and the fact that a few buttons had come undone from his shirt over the course of the night. "everyone's jealous of me, i bet."

you'd tell him a thousand times to see the way his gaze softened, the way a faint pink blush bloomed across the bridge of his nose. "thank you, doll," he said, genuineness evident in his voice, soft. "'re too good to me, yeah?"

you laughed, at this, felt it light up your face. "makin' up for lost time," you teased.

he pulled you so close to him, then, until his embrace was basically a swaying hug, a tired excuse for a dance. "got all the time in the world," he said, low, only for you, against your temple, and it felt like rebuilding a world from devastation. it felt like beginning, like living. it felt like him.

it had been you and quinn, first. it had been you and quinn, the coward and the fool, in the middle, however violently.

and, finally, it was you and quinn, now. now, and forever.

fin.

#hockey #hockey smut #nhl #smut #jack hughes #jack hughes smut #nhl smut #quinn hughes #trevor zegras smut #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes imagine #luke hughes #nico hischier #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk smut #matthew tkachuk #mackie samoskevich

[sc0tters]

Baby Fever | Matthew Tkachuk

summary: on your wedding day Matthew thought he’d get you to himself, but seeing you with his cousins gives him an idea he just had to see through.

kinkmas: day four (breeding)

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, nipple play? swearing.

word count: 2.18k

authors note: can we believe that this is my first wedding fic? sorry it took so long but I think we got to a good place! Matthew is a man I haven’t written for a lot but I love it when I do get to. If you want to read more from kinkmas you can find the masterlist here!

You knew you had always wanted a winter wedding.

The cold had been your favourite kind of weather as it meant you could sit at a fireplace with a blanket over your lap. Now living in Florida you weren’t promised your white wedding, but Matthew found a cabin that you two had fallen in love with. After being together for five years and countless jokes from his family as they would ask how Matthew got you locked down and even moving to a different country for him.

A mere six years ago you started off as his neighbour who knocked on his door early one Saturday morning as you needed eggs to fulfill your pancake recipe. In return for those eggs he got himself a free breakfast that morning and your number after weeks for trying to muster up the courage to talk to you.

Yes you, the girl set on pursuing her dreams was the one who made Matthew a mess.

Now you were sat a few seats across from him as his younger cousins giggled recounting the story of how Matthew was in love with you “hey now let’s not embarrass me to my wife.” Matthew shook his head as his hand squeezed your shoulder “can we talk for a bit?” He asked motioning to you to follow him “I’ll be back.” You offered the girls as you nodded “didn’t know I’d be chasing my wife on my wedding day.” The hockey player mumbled as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your head.

It made you smile “what can I say I’m a hot commodity today.” You teased as you two began to head outside where it was quiet “are you okay?” You furrowed your eyebrows sensing that something was on his mind “can’t get over how fucking gorgeous my wife is.” His confession made you scoff as your cheeks turned red “Matty.” You warned as his hands went dangerously close to your ass.

He laughed as he leaned down to kiss your lips “let’s go to the room.” Matthew proposed as you were all staying at the hotel tonight.

But of course you stood there like the good wife that you were as you shook your head “what about our guests?” You whisper yelled as his hand pressed against your lower back pushing you in the direction of the elevator “if anyone asks you can tell them I wasn’t feeling well.” He rolled his eyes pressing the button that illuminated your floor number as he waited for the elevator doors to shut before you dared to lay a hand on your now husband.

However Matthew didn’t feel the same way as you as he turned to you with a grin placing his hands on either side of your face as he leaned down to kiss you “fuck you’re so pretty.”He groaned swiping his tongue across your lower lip as you moaned into his kiss.

You two remained like that as the boy peppered kisses along your jaw and neck “I need to open the door Matt.” You coughed as you struggled to grab the keycard from his pocket.

Matthew opted to behave for a few minutes offering you your focus as you huffed opening the door as you both pushed in not letting your feet stop you until you were met with the couch. He took the opportunity to unzip your dress revealing your white lingerie “god.” Matthew mumbled watching as you stepped out of your dress that was now a mere blob on the floor. Leaving you in your underwear and heels.

What you didn’t expect was that he’d move to sit on the couch before he dared to touch you once more “c’mere.” Matthew motioned to you to sit on his thigh as he spread his legs open stretching the fabric of his pants over his muscular legs.

Your mouth watered as you straddled his thighs “so glad to finally have you all to myself.” The hockey player smiled as you gripped at his shoulders “been yours all along.” You quietly clenched your legs as his thigh bucked beneath your clothed cunt.

His lips brushed over yours “been thinking about you all damn day.” Matthew nipped at the skin of your neck forcing your breath to be caught in your throat “what about me?” You groaned feeling his eyes undress the little amount of clothes you had left on.

Matthew let his fingers brush over the strap of your bra “these boobs.” He began pulling the straps to your arms revealing your nipples that peaked from the cool air that hit them. His smirk looked up at you as you whimpered pinching your lower lip between your teeth as you oozed anticipation “please.” You begged giving Matthew a nod as his lips latched onto your left breast leaving his tongue swirling around your nipple.

His eyes fluttered shut as relief painted his body as he hummed at the taste of you on his tongue. Matthew continued his movements sucking and swirling the sensitive bud until you’re slick with his spit rocking your hips against his thigh. Your chest is heaving as you whined feeling goosebumps prick at your skin. Heat shoots from within you and it settles in between your legs “fuck!” You moaned making him sink his teeth against your nipple.

Matthews lips were plump as he brought his hand up to cup your other breast to equally share his attention with “gonna make a mess on your pants.” You warned tugged your fingers through his curls as he rolled your nipple between his fingers.

If this was any other day Matthew would have watched your eyes roll back into your head as you came by the mere flex of his thigh. But as his cock throbbed against the fabric of his pants and the knowledge that your loved ones would soon notice your disappearance “baby I need to fuck you so badly.” Matthews confession made you moan as you nodded.

Within the blink of an eye Matthew had his shirt unbuttoned and his belt unbuckled as you pulled his cock out from under his boxers “been thinking about your tight little pussy too.” The hockey player watching in awe as you drove the head of his cock over your clit making your body shake with pleasure “what about it?” You groaned smiling to yourself as you let your cunt swallow his cock as your walls adjusted to his size.

Foreheads pressed together as it seemed you both forgot how to breathe. The mere gesture of embracing each other almost being too much for you both but he couldn’t handle it as the first to pull away “how you’d look so full with my babies.” Matthew cupped your stomach brushing his thumbs over where your uterus sat beneath your skin. It was a topic that neither one of you had ever gone into depth with as you both agreed that kids would be in your futures “how your breasts would grow full.” You began to move your hips as you smiled settling into your rhythm.

Matthew watched as your eyes adjusted to the dim lights that lowly illuminated the room around you both “I want you to put a baby in me Matthew.” You pleaded clenching around his cock at the thought “want to be full of your come.” You had gone off of the pill last month as you knew you were getting to the stage of wanting kids, now it was beginning to matter that he wasn’t wearing a condom either.

It was hot hearing those words fall from your lips “I’m gonna fuck my pretty little bride so hard she forgets her name.” As soft as Matthews words were you knew it was a serious promise when he picked you up and lay you on the couch bringing himself back to the driving seat of this moment. Your response came in the form of a yelp as Matthew wrapped your legs around his waist “please Matt.” You begged as his pace ruined your once slow one.

The hockey player was desperate to fulfill his desires of seeing you full as he watched his cock bottom you out, hitting your g-spot resulting in your moans painting the walls. Sure to be heard by anyone who dared to be on this floor away from the party. It was dirty how your swollen lips and squashed curls that pressed against your back acted like encouragement to Matthew as he laughed “and to think you acted like you wanted to be down there with all of them.” The hockey player clicked his tongue as he shook his head mocking the innocent act you upheld when you were downstairs smiling at his parents like you didn’t have thoughts of having their son between your legs.

With the only response you allowed to let leave your lips being in the form of whines “but now you’re sat here fucking my cock dumb.” Matthew cupped the back of your head bringing you even closer to him as your hand went behind your bodies finding your clit “want it so bad.” You felt your breathing grow irregular as you struggled to focus “fill me up Mat.” You pleaded beginning to cry as pleasure built up in your body.

Those words were like butter to your husband who tugged at your lower lip between his teeth “won’t last when you speak like that.” Matthew groaned shaking his head as your cunt clenched around his throbbing cock “me too.” You stammered feeling the room around you grow hot as your legs began to shake.

Sounds of skin slapping echoed between you both as your face began to contort “go ahead baby.” Matthew ordered as his cock could only handle so much of this before he came himself “milk my cock pretty girl.” His tongue swiped over your ear lobe finally sending you over the edge.

Low grumbles left your lips as you clamped around his cock in spurts as the movements of your fingers strumming against your clit struggled to keep you focused “s-shit Matt.” You croaked out as your vision went blurry making your eyes screw shut as white specks cascaded over your eyelids “don’t stop.” You pleaded finally getting shut up when he embraced your lips in a hungry kiss.

Matthew wasn’t far behind you as his chest began to grow tight but at the moment he was focused on fucking you through your orgasm “such a pretty girl.” He mewled flaring his nostrils as the coil in his stomach snapped “fuck!” Matthew took the hand that was once behind your head and now pressed it against the arm of the couch to keep himself up.

Your cunt was coated with his release making you smile as he continued to slowly fuck you “gotta make sure it all stays in there baby.” Your husband teased as he pecked your lips.

The moment that was so small was full of so much love between you both that you almost didn’t hear the knock at the door.

Key word, almost.

Brady had been sent up to see where the two of you were “I get you’re a happy couple you two but if we could go downstairs and act like I haven’t just heard that I’d be happy.” His words made your cheeks turn red as you were only met with the sound of Matthews laughter.

Matthew pecked your lips as he smiled “down in a sec!” The panthers player yelled back as he sat up straight hearing the sounds of his brothers footsteps leaving the hallway. His hand reached down to your panties that were on the floor as he smiled “you serious about wanting my babies?” Matthew looked to you for confirmation as you placed your legs in his lap “so serious.” You nodded smiling as he did the same.

The hockey player helped slide your panties over your legs and pressed against your cunt “gotta make sure you don’t lose any of that then.” It made you squirm as you thought about keeping his load of inside of you “now as much as I wanna stay here with you.” Matthew sighed as he brushed your hair out of your face.

You let your lips form a pout already thinking about what he was going to say “we should probably get back before they send him back up here.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice as he pecked your lips “would hate for him to have to hear what you sound like when I have your cock in my mouth.” You smirked seeing Matthew process the image in his mind.

Using the little energy you had you got up and giggled “you’re sending me to an early grave.” Matthew groaned pressing his head into the pillow behind him.

As he watched you place your hands on your hips “that’s why you married me Tkachuk.” You spun around and walked to your dress letting him stare at your ass.

Matthew was living, the life.

#ambers kinkmas 2023 #Matthew tkachuk imagines #Matthew tkachuk smut #nhl smut #hockey smut #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #nhl oneshots #hockey oneshots #imagines #oneshots #amber writes fics

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — bull-rider!MATTHEW TKACHUK x barrel racer!hughes!reader (can be read as an unnamed oc) wc — 1.8k synopsis — wear the hat, ride the cowboy—even if it might get you disowned.

note — there's one line referring to the reader as jack's twin, but no physical description is given. also, this one-shot is a "party favor" from our feb slumber party

specific content warnings under the cut.

cw — quinn being a dramatic, misogynistic douche-canoe 3000 for the entirety (ratty matty has his moments, too), no actual smut but it's heavily implied they do the dirty on the reg, a disgustingly intimate situationship — ick, off-color comment(s) relating to first times and the concept of virginity, lots and lots of familial angst (jack is a snake), oh! and more than a few loose ends... but you know the drill by now, i'm incapable of keeping a story contained

“Go on, Palomino Princess. Ride me like one of your ponies.” 

Condescension drips from the lazy taunt. Matthew earns a palm to the chest for it; her ire lands with a faint thud, but he doesn’t mind. He gets off on riling her up, and after two years of backseat meetings and hushed phone calls, he’s damn good at it too. That, and she might be the most reactive person he’s ever met—and that’s saying something. 

Matthew’s been going head-to-head with all three of her brothers for over a decade, and he’s known their family for even longer. Having a short fuse must be genetic.    

“Y’won’t break me if that’s the hold-up. S’gonna take a hell of a lot more than a dry humpin’ buckle bunny to put me outta commission, sweetheart.” 

He knows damn well she ain’t anywhere close to the derogatory term, but he likes what the complete disregard for her accomplishments does to her deceptively cherubic face. 

It may look less harrowing than every other event on the card, but barrel racing ain’t for the faint-hearted. The event is a death wish personified, and it feels about as good as someone taking a metal pipe to both shins. It takes balls—metaphorically, in her case—to charge into an arena on an American Quarter horse with the intention of guiding it through a cloverleaf pattern around three barrels while sprinting at top speed, but it takes dedication and skill to succeed the way she has. The winner is determined by just thousandths of a second. 

The woman perched on his tailgate is unmatched—undefeated.  

Flames of pride lap at his loins, the fire of desire stoked by the wicked roll of her hips. 

“Ohh—shit!” Matthew hisses, his head lolling back as his hips buck into her heat. 

She smirks, apparently vindictive as ever. “How’s that, cowboy? Everything you dreamed?” 

“And more,” he growls as he grabs a fistful of her backside. 

His grip is tighter than it needs to be as he switches positions. Not nearly as rough as she would prefer it; beggars can’t be choosers.  

Matthew steps between her knees, and, despite herself, she shivers with anticipation. Chuckling, amusement twinkles in his baby blues. “Now give me a kiss, sweetheart. My lips are feelin’ a little lonely tonight, and you happen to be wearin’ my hat, Little Miss.” 

He flicks the brim of his hat. She catches it before it hits the ground before plopping it back on the rightful owner, the damage already done.  

“You just love that antiquated rule,” she shakes her head while most definitely laughing at his expense. “Y’wouldn’t see any action without it, now would you?” 

Matthew grins. Trading insults is his favorite form of foreplay. “Neither would you. Isn’t that your signature move, outlaw?”

“I should kick you to the back of the line with that attitude. Hell, I’d probably be better off keeping you at a distance anyway.” 

“Keep mouthin’ off and see how far it gets ya. Definitely nowhere near that McMansion castle you call home, that’s for sure.” 

“Oh, don’t you worry ‘bout me, sugar. I’ve got plenty of options if I need a ride home.” 

“I’ll bet, show pony. Sexiest can chaser east of the Mississippi; who wouldn’t be chomping at the bit to carry Cinderella home to her Daddy?” 

Men have a habit of gawking at her; Matthew has a habit of relieving them of their teeth. 

He leans in to taunt her ear with greedy lips and barbed arrogance. “Best of luck finding one that’ll fuck you better than me.”     

“Do you think about other guys fucking me often?” she fires without missing a beat.

More than he would like, actually.

With a heavy, drawn-out sigh, he runs a hand over his face. His patience is running thin, and his jeans are starting to chafe. Exasperated, he tries coaxing her to reason, “Sweetheart, c’mon. We both know you want this—want me. Stop makin’ this so damn hard.” 

“Why? Because you already are?” 

Matthew makes an exaggerated show of play-biting her scrunched-up nose. 

“Woman, you drive me insane.”

“It’s why you’re so obses—“ 

Her teasing is thwarted by the sound of her own name. Spat out of her older brother’s mouth like a heirloom gone sour, it's no great surprise Quinn looks at her like he can’t recognize her. Like a stranger—like a traitor. 

Guilt, thin and fleeting, pieces the tenderness between her ribs. 

She squirms, attempting to put some distance between them as if that could erase the discovery—and her culpability—from his mind. Matthew and his shit-eating grin keep her from getting too far but don’t be fooled. This is no chivalrous encouragement to stand her ground. It’s got nothing to do with her and everything to do with her brother. 

Quinn rages outside the hauler housing Matthew’s precious 3500 Laramie. Walking by, seeing the main trailer hitched Brady’s F-350 made his stomach churn. It didn’t sit right, and now he knew why. 

“You can’t be serious! Nuh-uh, no—no fucking way. Get out here before I drag you out myself.”  

At his tone, what little remorse she felt dissipates. They were both far too old for his tired, overbearing song-and-dance. 

“Who died and made you king?” 

Quinn, blinded by overripe anger, sweeps over the irritation, twisting her tongue and the disbelief arching her brow. “I thought I made myself clear last time. Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

“Oh, crystal, Quinny.” Matthew snorts at the juvenile nickname but is swiftly cajoled into silence with a pinch to the side. “Message received.” 

“Then quit screwin’ around and get your ass back to the truck before Dad blows a gasket. He’s been lookin’ all over for you. So, you best be thanking your lucky stars I got here first. That its me catchin’ you red-handed colluding with the enemy.” 

He’s so serious, nearly shaking with rage, it’s difficult not to laugh. She can count on one hand the instances wherein her brother became visibly angry—all of them involving the man standing between her dangling feet. She fares better than him, but that’s to be expected. Unlike her accomplice, for her, there’s real risk involved. 

“Just ‘cause I heard you don’t mean I have to listen.” 

Lips pressed to her temple, Matthew clicks his tongue in approval. ‘Bout damn time she started giving back what Quinn so readily dishes out. 

“Look, y’can spread your legs for anyone with big dreams and a buckle some other night. Parade around the circuit acting like a slut, see if I give a shit. But not tonight. And not with him.” 

The knowing glint in Quinn’s blackened eyes is telling, but it isn’t as menacing as he thinks it is. The Hughes heir apparent couldn’t be judge, jury, and executioner. He doesn’t have a lick of proof. Just suspicion and a personal vendetta the size of Texas. 

A safety net swaying below, Matthew decides to have a little fun. “Whoa, settle down, Trust Fund. Y’can’t talk to a lady like that, ‘specially not your sister.” 

He’s no white knight, but he can pretend. 

And isn’t that what you’re all doing? Pretending to be people you aren’t. Acting out your roles, putting on a show. After all, a performance will always be more entertaining than the truth. 

“—and here I thought etiquette classes were a Rodeo Royalty rite of passage. Glad t’know she ain’t the only roughneck hellion in your family tree, Huggy.” 

Quinn’s jaw tightens. His tongue threatens to put a hole through his cheek. Hands on his hips, the eldest sibling only nods. He ignores Matthew entirely. 

“Real winner y’got there. A class act. You really know how to pick ‘em—cream of the goddamn crop. Say, what’re you gonna do when he inevitably gets bored of you? When he gets his hands on a fresh doe-eyed virgin to tarnish?” 

After she finishes with Matthew, she’s kicking Jack’s sorry ass. 

Those anxieties—and that majorly personal tidbit of information—were shared in confidence. Because unlike her older brother, she trusted her twin. Well, she used to, at least. Luke’ll be over the moon at the chance to be her favorite. 

She bares her teeth like a scorned lapdog. “We’re not kids anymore, Q. You can’t push me around whenever you want or tell me what to do like you’re my father. And you sure as shit can’t bully me into submission, either. Give it up, or get lost.” 

“Whatever,” Quinn barks as he backs away from the trailer. “Your fuckin’ funeral.” 

Listening to the fading sound of her brother’s Ariats pounding through the dirt, she buries her face in the warm, familiar crook of Matthew’s neck; she needs a moment alone. He seems to understand this, his mouth zipped shut as he runs calloused hands up and down her sides. She’s breathing heavily, but he does her the simple mercy of leaving it be. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was growing on you,” Matthew hums, a low-maintenance attempt to lighten the mood. 

They don’t do the touchy-feely BS. It’s one of the things that reeled him in—and kept him coming back. 

“But you do.” She pulls away to look up at him, chin resting on his sternum. He hates that her melancholic eyes are red-rimmed. “—and stop thinking, it doesn’t suit you.” 

“And what does, princess? I’m dyin’ for your insight.” 

“Shut the door and I’ll show you.” 

He blinks, taken aback. Who is this brazen tart, and when did she take your place? Matthew wonders to himself. Maybe he is the bad influence everyone paints him as… He hasn’t really thought about it until now, and it's troubling the way it makes his chest tighten. 

Matthew clears his throat—and, from his mind, the distressing notion that he’s ruined someone good with his carelessness—as he leans over. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

He pulls the hauler’s heavy metal door shut with clamorous finality.  

Matthew Tkachuk might be the most self-serving swindler on dirt, but Quinn Hughes is just another name on his list. A box to tick and then forget. He wouldn’t lose sleep, it wasn’t like their friendship meant a damn thing. Not anymore. A friend turned foe, reduced to another obstacle in his way, a hurdle to jump. 

Tonight, his sister’s fealty; tomorrow, his title.

Retribution is at his fingertips, so close he can taste it. Yet, it would seem that Matthew merely traded one hornet’s nest for another. 

At least this one’s easy on the eyes. 

⤑ to my inbox💌

⬸ back to the catalog  (writing masterlist) 

⬸ back to the main blog 

All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2024 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted, or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

#feb 24 #slumber party favors #powerful prose #exhibition games #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk x you #matthew tkachuk x y/n #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk smut #matthew tkachuk fanfic #matthew tkachuk x f!reader #m. tkachuk #rodeo au #western au #cowboy au #hockey rpf #nhl rpf #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey romance #nhl imagines #hockey fic #nhl smut #hockey smut #*ೃ༄ by holy-pucks

[sweettomyhoney]

personally i would love to read a fic where y/n catches an assault charge for fighting a reporter who said something outta line about her man lmao

𝕂𝕟𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕠𝕦𝕥- 𝕄𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕨.𝕋𝕜

𝙿𝚘𝚟: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊 𝚛𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚠.

𝙰𝙽: 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙼𝚛. 𝚃𝚔𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚔 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜.

Prof read is a no/ this is a long one

———————————————————

Matthew knew what type of woman he had on his hands from the day one. You were sweet, kindhearted and loving. You were the girl of his dreams and his family absolutely adored you. After all, you did have a temper that only a Tkachuk could love. You were a perfect match for Matthew.

On the other hand, you were a force to be reckoned with. If someone even dared to test your gangster you would give them exactly what they dished out. You were a very protective person, especially when it came to Matthew, or the people that you loved. You were not afraid to get your hands dirty if need be. And today was not the day for someone to want to get on your bad side.

Moving from Calgary to Florida was a huge transition for you and Matthew. But, the both of you knew as long as you had each other everything would be fine. Sadly, ever since you’ve gotten settled in the state it seems like the chaos had not stopped. From unpack, adjusting schedules, getting settled at work, time difference, dealing with new people, and Matthew traveling, it was overwhelming. Now, your main concern was making it through family media day.

Today was the first family day for Matthew with his new team. Since you are now Matthew‘s wife, that ment your day would be filled with nonstop interviews from different local media outlets.For the most part things went smooth, until your last interview with a reporter from a hockey podcast you were not familiar with.

You made your way to your designated interview room hoping to be joined by your husband. As you took your seat ,you were informed it was a solo interview due to Matthew needing to meet with the NHL Network. Then a older blonde women entered the room.

•“Mrs. Tkachuk! it is so nice to meet you.” She said with a smile.

• “Hello it’s nice to meet you too” You reply happily.

• “You are even more beautiful in person.” She said now shaking your hand.

•“I’m Carla. Media Manager for the Panthers and I wanted to introduce you to your interviewer today.” She continued.

Before you could even get a word in, a much younger brunette entered the room.

•“You’re the new WAG I need to interview right?” The brunette said coldly.

•“Yeah that is me, and my name is (y\n) btw.” You replied confused.

•“Not important we are here about Matthew anyway.” She replied with an eye roll

•“Matthew will not be joining us for this interview.” Carla introjected.

• “Great! Another interview with an air head.” The brunette muttered under her breath.

• “Excuse me?” You replied taken back.

• “ Well! I will leave y’all to it!” Carla said quickly before leaving the room.

• “This is going to be fun!” You said to yourself sarcastically.

You then made your way over to your designated seat. The camera crew made sure that your mic was on,and that the lighting was working for you. Once everything was good the interview started.

•“ 3.2.1… Action! ” The camera man counted down.

• “ Welcome back to the Hockey Babes Podcast! I am Brianna! Today I am joined with the new Mrs. Matthew Tkachuk!” The brown haired reporter said enthusiastically.

• “Oh so you have a name? Brianna is it?” You said with a smile.

• “Yes! That is me.” She replied with a hair flip.

• “But anyway! Let’s get into the questions shall we?” Briana said sharply.

• “ We shall.” You replied trying to play nice.

• “So (y/n) what is it like marrying into the most hated NHL family?” Brianna said with a smile.

•“ Excuse me? Hate is a strong word don’t you think?” You replied taken back.

• “ Well it’s not like you married into a truly classy family like the Nylander’s. The Tkachuk’s do have a reputation for being white trash.” She said with a laugh.

“Is this bitch for real?” You thought to yourself. What type of interviewer asks a question like that. You were trying so hard to keep your patience. Luckily, It was the last interview of the day. All you needed to do was get through this last thing, then you were back with your loving husband. You continued to answer the question as calmly as possible.

• “ I do understand that my husbands family has a reputation for playing rough. But, white trash is the last thing that they are. Also, if you were good at your job you would know what WE Tkachuk’s are pretty close to the Nylander’s . My husband was drafted the same year as Alex. Also, his former team mate Auston Matthews now plays on the same line and team as William. So, I am pretty sure if we weren’t classy we wouldn’t be as close as we are.” You said confidently.

•“ You keep telling yourself that.” She replied laughing it off

• “So how did you and Matthew meet exactly?” Brianna continued with a snarky grin.

• “It was after he was drafted. I work with nonprofit organizations with the goal to make sports accessible to everyone. I have worked with Nike, Adidas, Reebok, and Dicks Sporting Goods. I met Matthew when the Calgary Flames volunteered to work with at risk kids. I have been in love with him ever since.” You replied reminiscing on the very moment you knew Matt was the one. 

•“ How cute! Got to make up for the lack of talent he has somehow. Glad to see you have a working brain as well!” she said light heartedly.

•“ What do you mean by that?” You replied getting angrier by the second.

•“ I mean you are with the less successful brother. Brady is the youngest captain in the NHL. And tell me what exactly Matthew has accomplished?” She remarked doubling down on her rude comments.

“ You know what? I think this interview is over!” You said angrily as you stood to take off your mic.

“Aww…Did I make the Air Head mad?” Brianna said antagonizing you.

Before you could think, you lunged at her your fist connecting with her face. You grabbed her hair and pulled her out of her seat. You were full on twirling on this hoe.

• “YOU WANNA TALK SHIT LIKE A BITCH THEN IMMA DOG WALK YOU LIKE ONE!” you said dragging her across the floor.

• “ RIGHT BITCH! WRONG IDEA! DON’T EVER TRY TO BAD MOUTH MY FAMILY HOE!” You screamed as security and Matthew proceed to try a pull you two apart.

•“ Y/N IT’S OKAY! IT IS OKAY! YOU GOT HER! IT’S OKAY” you heard Matthew yell as he held you back from going at her again.

As Security dealt with Brianna, Matthew walked you to the medical room. You took a seat on the patient table. Matthew tried to calm you down as best as he could. You had a few scratches, so Matthew decided to find some things to clean you up. When you were calm enough, Matthew asked you what exactly happened.

•“ Baby what happened? Are you okay?” Matthew asked you wrapping his arms around you.

•“ NO! I am not okay! I just spent the last 45 minutes listening to my family be bad mouthed by a random podcast bitch.” You said brokenhearted.

• “ WHAT!” Matthew replied now upset at what he was hearing.

• “ YES! That bitch was talking about how the Tkachuk’s are white trash. How you are not successful cause you’re not a captain yet! And a bunch of other shit about my intelligence!” You told Matthew getting upset again.

• “ That is fucked up! I’ll take care of whatever bullshit comes next okay?You don’t have to worry about that. But,I want to make sure you are okay?” Matthew said concerned.

• “Well I just whooped her ass, so I guess I’m good” you said brushing your tears away.

• “ You did get her pretty good babe. Maybe you are a Tkachuk after all. I should take a few fights lessons from you. ” Matthew said cracking a grin.

• “ Matthew shut up!” You replied rolling your eyes.

• “ What? All I’m saying is that my father would definitely be proud of you.” Matthew replied causing you to crack a little smile.

• “ You think?” You asked looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

• “ I know for sure my little hot head.” Matthew continued leaning into kiss your forehead.

• “ Now you lay back and rest I’m going to sort this all out. Then we will be on our way home.” Matthew added giving you another forehead kiss.

• “ You don’t think I’ll have to deal with the police right?” You questioned him before he left the room.

• “ No way! The most that will happen is needing to pay a fine. Also you know I have a Fight Fine Fund. Triple F for short .” Matthew reassured you with a slight laugh.

• “It is the NHL after all.” You said laying your head down on the padded table.

Matthew managed to sort some things out for you. The most you had to pay was a fine of 8,000 bucks. This was a standard financial investment for Matthew. The man had 100k stocked for fines he might rack up during the season. Brianna on the other hand, was prohibited to conduct any future interviews with the Panthers. In the end, never mess with a woman who is in love with a man like Matthew Tkachuk. You will end up with your ass beat.

PS: I HOPE THIS DOSE YOUR REQUEST JUSTICE 😘💪

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk smut #hockey #nhl #hockey tea #nhl imagines #black nhl imagines #nhl plus size imagines #florida panthers #Florida Panthers imagines #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk x reader #nhl wag #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl players

[babydollmarauders]

SILENT NIGHT — MATTHEW TKACHUK

matthew tkachuk x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which Matthew agrees to walk around their neighborhood to look at holiday lights… with a catch

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, praise, slight exhibitionism, choking, daddy kink, p in v (unprotected). (2.8k words)

notes: welcome to day 6 of my 12 days of kinkmas! this is my first time ever writing for matty, so i apologize if it’s iffy.

i should’ve known nothing with Matthew could be done with pure relaxation in mind.

i thought it would be nice, a relaxing walk around the neighborhood, hand in hand like normal couples as we look at all the christmas lights that decorate each house.

but i didn’t take into account that my boyfriend is, to put it lovingly, a freak.

a relaxing walk? no, thank you, not for him. instead, he has to make things… interesting.

so here i am, hand grasping Matthew’s tightly as i walk next to him, the side of my body pressed to his, and soft breathy moans escaping my lips as he smirks beside me.

i begged him all day since he got home from his roadie to get him to agree to this walk, and he kept saying he ‘wasn’t feeling it’. until he came up with his one term, a stupid term that i stupidly agreed with.

“Matty, c’mon!” i whisper pleadingly, a shiver wracking my body from both the cold air that rises up my jacket, and the vibrations that press against my clit, controlled by the little remote that my boyfriend plays around with in his coat pocket.

“uh-uh.” he teasingly denies, turning the vibrator in my panties down a level.

the dark sky looms up above us, stars barely visible, but it doesn’t matter to me because my eyes are fixated on the bright lights that adorn each house. reds, greens, white’s, and blue’s; blow up santa’s in a few lawns; light up reindeer in others.

though it’s not snowing like it would’ve in Calgary, i’ve gotten so used to the warm Florida weather that now that it’s winter, the nip of chill in the air makes the tip of my nose red.

my teeth sink into my bottom lip so hard that i fear i’ll draw blood, attempting to hold in my sounds as we walk past another couple that must’ve had the same idea to look at the lights.

Matthew smiles politely as we pass, not giving off any hints that we’re doing anything beyond admiring the beautiful lights; but once we’re far enough away, i hear the click of a button of the remote a few times, the vibrations of the toy that’s pressed snugly against my clit rising in intensity.

my legs stop, my hand that’s tangled in Matty’s tugging him back as he continues to walk, and my jaw drops open as i let out a loud, squeaky whine.

“shhh!” he reminds me. he hastily takes two big steps forward, stopping in front of me.

his hand rises to cup my cheek, tilting my head up to look at him, his eyes glinting with a dangerous mixture of mischief and lust.

“you gotta be quiet. don’t want anyone to hear you, do you, sweetheart?” his head tilts in questioning, an eyebrow raising as he awaits my response.

i’m quiet for a moment, listening to the silence of the night before i respond.

“no, Matty.” i shake my head as my boyfriend nods his in approval, tangling his arm through mine.

he urges me along, my feet shuffling slowly across the cement as i attempt to simultaneously walk and clench my thighs together. leaning down, his lips ghost against the shell of my ear, his heated breath fanning against my cold skin, sending chills down my spine, my eyelids fluttering closed as i let him guide me.

“you’re being such a good girl for me,” his voice is deep but spoken in a hushed whisper, his hand splaying out against the small of my back. “looking at me with those pretty eyes, just desperate to cum.”

his free hand slips back into his pocket, the vibrator suddenly switching to the lowest setting, making me whimper in response.

“not yet.” Matthew tsk’s shaking his head as he resumes the walk, guiding me along down the sidewalk.

he glances down at me, flashing a bright and innocent smile; as though he isn’t holding the essential key to my orgasm in the palm of his hand; as though he isn’t torturing me with pleasure in this very moment.

his eyes flit up, gazing behind me, and entirely too quickly, his smile turns mischievous, a playful glimmer in his eyes.

“hey, look,” he sing-songs, “there’s sasha’s house. and the lights are on! we should stop by and say hello, shouldn’t we?”

he nods his head towards the house behind me, “we’ve been meaning to invite him over for Christmas dinner, right?”

his hand slips into mine, pulling me along towards his captain’s house, and my eyes widen, shaking my head.

“no!” i try to speak lowly, but my word turns into a soft moan as the vibration against my clit gains intensity. we get all the way across the street before i can speak again, “Matthew!”

he halts in his tracks, turning towards me with a raised brow at the disuse of his nickname.

“i am not going to face your captain right now!” a cheeky grin spreads across my boyfriend’s face, teeth on full display, and i already know he’s about to test my limits.

“why not?” he questions playfully, biting his lips to hold back a chuckle.

“y-you know why not!” i hiss back, my hips jerking slightly as he lowers the intensity of the toy just a little, “i am not facing him with a fucking vibrator in my underwear!”

“hmm,” Matty hums, nodding understandingly, but his lips still hold a mocking smile. his finger hooks under my chin, tipping my head back to look into my eyes, “well then; the faster we walk, the faster we get home, which means the faster you can cum all over my cock.”

my body trembles in desperation at the mere thought, my hand reaching up to grasp his in determination before i begin walking as fast as i can muster under the circumstances.

Matthew follows me, speeding up his pace as he begins to laugh, “so needy!”

his teasing leaves me unphased, my feet only shuffling back towards our house even quicker. but the faster i move, the more intense the vibrations get against my clit, urging me to slow down.

“M-Matty, please!” i cry, spinning around to face my boyfriend, “you win! i can’t take it anymore! i wanna go home!”

frustrated tears threaten to spill over my waterline, a pout etched into my face as i gaze up at him, towering over me.

“we can go home,” he hums sincerely. stopping beside me, he holds his arm out for me to entangle mine with; before lowering his lips towards my ear one last time, “right after this.”

my brows furrow in confusion, pulling my face back to look at him, but it doesn’t take long for me to understand his words.

the vibrator begins to hum, my body falling into his, as he proudly holds up the little purple remote, the tiny little LED numbers at the top reading ‘10’.

“highest level, darling. just let it out.” Matthew smirks, arms encircling my waist, holding me flush to his body as my legs turn weak.

the vibration against my clit is the most severe it’s been all night, my legs instinctively pressing together. but it doesn’t help at all, rather making the sensation stronger, which in turn makes my legs give out entirely.

Matty holds my body up, leaning down to capture my lips in his, effectively releasing my bottom lip from its jail between my teeth. with our lips pressed together, my hands tangle into the hair at the nape of his neck, moans pouring from my mouth and into his as my toes curl inside my combat boots.

eyes squeezed shut, the knotted chord that’s been tangling in my stomach snaps, my orgasm bringing flashes of light into my dark vision, blood rushing in my ears.

and just as quick as it hits, it’s gone; the vibrator powered off entirely with a simple click of a button from Matthew’s finger.

i breathe heavily as i come down from my release, pulling away from my boyfriend’s lips as he lifts me off the ground. my legs loosely wrap around his waist, his hands holding my ass as he begins to walk, eyeing his path from over my shoulder.

“i thought i wasn’t-”

i’m cut off by Matty speaking over me, “coming until we got home? yeah, that was the plan.”

he shrugs, fingers gripping tighter on my ass as he hastens his movement.

“but, you seemed so… tense,” he chuckles, “call it an early christmas present.”

“i don’t wanna cum for christmas!” i pout, but when he looks back at me with a singular raised brow, i backtrack, “well, i do. but, i also want a stanley cup!”

Matthew snickers as he steps up the stairs towards our front door.

“yeah? join the club.” he jokes and i smack his shoulder as he unlocks our house, opening the door and stepping inside.

“you know what i meant!” i roll my eyes, “i want a custom one a red one, like Panthers red, with your number on it.”

he smirks, letting me slide down the front of his body as i lay my feet flat upon the hardwood floor.

“i think i need a shower.” i huff, kicking my boots off before i turn to face my boyfriend again.

Matthew stands in the same spot as before, now eyeing the wet spot on his shirt from where my pussy was pressed against him after my release.

“you? look at me.”

i shrug, looking up at him with innocent eyes, “well, you did promise i could cum on your cock when we got home. you didn’t say where in the home.”

my boyfriend stares me down with a blank expression, blinking slowly as he processes my words, before clasping my hand with his, hurriedly pulling me towards our bedroom.

i giggle as i run through the house behind him, following him into our bedroom, where we’re quick to rid ourselves of our layers of clothing. i keep my panties on, walking into the bathroom before i peel them off, setting the vibrator in the sink to wash later.

i turn around just in time to watch Matty turn the shower on, water cascading down and pinging off the tile of the walk-in shower, splashing up against the panes of glass that surround it.

i step towards him, eyes scanning his toned body until i reach the part i yearn for.

his cock is hard; no longer straining against any fabrics, it stands in the air, tip flaming red and glistening with precum.

“oh, you’re so desperate, aren’t you?” he smirks, his hand pressing against my lower back as he ushers me into the steaming shower. “your eyes haven’t left my dick, it’s like you’re willing it to fuck you.”

my sight finally flickers back up to his face, warm water splashing upon my back as i stare up at him with soft eyes.

“i am.” i whisper, my voice low and sultry.

Matthew steps forward, closing the shower door behind him and pulling me towards him with a hand on my hip.

his erection presses against my hip, his voice deep and lust filled as he speaks, “all you to do is ask, darling.”

my thighs press together, eyelids falling hooded as i gaze up at him.

“Matty?” i start, an encouraging hum coming from his lips, “will you fuck me?”

“turn around, angel.”

i spin around, back facing him as water falls against my chest. he turns us to the side, his hands gripping my hips and pulling my ass back towards him, his cock nestling against it.

he bends my upper body forward, my arms instinctively stretching out in front of me, my wet hands slapping against the wall. Matthew steps back, kicking my feet apart before his right hand leaves my hip.

i squeak out a moan as his thick fingers swipe through my folds, gauging my wetness and lubrication from my orgasm just ten minutes ago.

“you think you can take me?” his lips, press against the top of my shoulder, peppering wet kisses up the side of my neck as i heave out of a shaky breath.

“yes,” i moan, nodding my head as best i can, “yes, daddy.”

Matty groans at the name, his hips bucking against mine and causing my jaw to drop. i peer back over my shoulder, watching as his hand wraps around his length.

he guides his tip through my wetness, spreading my cum around as lubrication before he lines himself up with my entrance, pressing forward and taking great pride in how my walls swallow him in.

“fuck.” he grunts, listening to my strangled whimper as he eases into me, “doing so well f’me, princess.”

the painful yet pleasant sting of his thick cock stretching me open causes my arms to shake, dropping forward with my forearms against the wall now. the new angle proves well when he finally bottoms out inside of me, the tip of his dick prodding against my g-spot.

“oh my god.” i cry out, my hips grinding back against him as he pulls out slowly, biding his time before he makes a swift thrust back in. his muscular thighs smack against the backs of mine, the sound echoing with the water that sprays down upon us.

his arm wraps around the front of my waist, holding me up as he fucks into me. his thrusts start slow but harsh, gradually picking up until he’s slamming into me at an unforgiving pace.

my tits bounce, my entire body jolting forward with each thrust, and i know at the rate he’s going, i won’t last long.

a broken sob carries through the bathroom as i press my cheek against the wall, barely able to keep my head up as i arch my back, allowing a deeper angle and an even better positioning for him to hit that soft spot inside of me.

“M-Matty! daddy!” my body shakes, only being pushed further towards my limit with the sound of his groans as he fucks into me, my walls pulsing around him.

“that’s it, princess,” his hands slides up my front, roughly clutching at my breast before continuing its travels, wrapping around my throat. “you gonna cum for me?”

he uses his grip to pull me upright, my back against his chest as my head tips back, laying on his shoulder. his hand tightens gently around my neck, the rush clouding my head as my breath catches in my throat.

i make a feeble attempt at a nod, but it’s more of a jerky movement than anything. his cock prods against my g-stop repetitively, his hips smacking against my ass.

his grip loosens enough for me to gulp in deep breaths, the pressure in my stomach building and building with each passing second. his free hand falls down to my swollen clit, a singular thick digit rubbing against it as his pace never falters.

“i’m gonna c-cum.” i pant out through shaky moans.

“cum for me, princess.”

his name falls from my lips like a solemn prayer, my toes curling against the wet tile underneath them as my eyes rolls back in my head, the pressure in my stomach finally relieving in a blast of pleasure.

Matty doesn’t stop pounding into me, his thrusts just growing more desperate as he chases his own high, simultaneously riding me through mine.

“shit, shit, shit!” he curses, his thrusts faltering as he reaches his orgasm, releasing inside of me with ropes of cum.

he stills, his hand falling from my neck, and instead both of them gripping my hips as he slowly pulls out of me. a gasping breath falls from me as i’m left clenching around nothing, the feeling of emptiness bittersweet.

“god, you’re a fucking dream.” he hums, spinning me around and pulling me into his chest.

a lazy smile spreads across my lips, pressing a kiss to his pec as my eyelids flutter.

“i think i really need a shower now.” he laughs at my response, turning so my body is completely under the warm water.

i step back, tipping my head back to let the water soak my hair and body before i peek an eye open to glance at him. his eyes are stuck on my breasts, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“are you gonna help me get clean or what?” i cock an eyebrow at him, his eyes snapping up to look at my face.

“i think… if i do that, i can’t be held responsible for my dick’s reaction.”

a boisterous giggle erupts from my throat, my hands reaching out to grab his, and i pull him under the water with me.

“well, the night is young,” i sing-song, “and you were gone for a long time.”

“i was gone a week.” he chuckles.

“mhm, and i usually get about 5 orgasms a week… i think we’ve got some catching up to do.”

#faithlynn’s 12 days of kinkmas #matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk blurb #matthew tkachuk smut #fla panthers #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl smut #faithlynn’s writings <3

[tkwrites]

Back to You - Matthew Tkachuk x Jessie (ofc)

gif from @drysaladandketchup

Title: Back To You

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Matthew Tkachuck  x Jessie (ofc)

Warnings: Swearing, lots of flirting. Slow burn. Smut at the end: fingering (f receiving), oral (f and m receiving).

Summary: Jessie and Matthew meet at a New Years Eve party and form an instant connection. When a fire rips them apart, can fate bring them back together? 

Word Count: 12,700

Comments: This is my entry for @wyattjohnston‘s winter fic exchange written for @luvsherleafs

This is by far the longest piece I’ve written for Tumblr. I had a really clear vision of where I wanted it to go, and I eventually got it there. In the end, I’m so proud of how it turned out. I hope you enjoy, and would love to know what you think.

Many, many thanks to Mari @eyesthatroll and Bre @fallinallincurls for looking this over and assuring me it wasn’t garbage when I was in the trenches of writing. 

Me and you  We were a strange situation  And kissing you  Felt like Christmas Vacation  An exciting place to escape  Sometimes I wish that I could've stayed Cause you were my favorite Holiday  -Christmas Vacation by LØLØ

Back to You

Matthew couldn't tear his eyes away from her and knew he wasn't the only one. 

With dark hair cascading down her back in a long, shiny waterfall, big eyes and a plump little mouth that looked just made for kissing, she was the kind of classic girl next door people wrote into movies and books for the hero to find his way back to.

He especially liked what she was wearing. Bare legs weren’t really something he would advise at two hours to January in Ottawa, but at least it wasn’t a mini skirt like most women were tugging at constantly. Her shorts had a gold stripe on the sides that caught the flashing lights, as if they might have once been extravagant tuxedo pants tailored explicitly to show off her curvy legs. Her dark shirt had flecks of something metallic in the fabric - a wrapped and tied number like he’d never seen before. 

Laughter was all over her face as she danced with the people around her. Slamming her foot (clad in gold oxfords) down with the beat before circling her hips in time with the music. 

“Do you need a towel, man?” 

“What?” Matthew asked, pulling his eyes away to look at his brother.

“I asked if you needed a towel,” Brady repeated, failing to keep the teasing smile off his face, “for the drool.”    

Matthew flipped him off, and Brady laughed. 

“Go talk to her,” he encouraged, pushing Matthew off the bar stool. “I’m sick of watching you sit here and stare at her. Go do something about it.”  

He hesitated. It hadn't been that long since he’d broken up with Heidi.

“Go,” Brady repeated, shoving him across the walkway onto the dance floor. “Move on.”

Although he wasn't sure if he was ready to meet someone new, Matthew knew Brady was right. He’d be kicking himself come morning if he let a woman this good looking go without at least shooting his shot. 

As he weaved through the crowd of dancers, his competitive drive growled in his chest, pleased. He’d be damned if he let someone else get to her first.

“Your admirer is coming this way,” Roger said, nodding to someone over Jessie’s shoulder. 

She glanced over. A tallish guy with curly hair was walking right at her, a determined intensity all over his handsome face. Her gaze swung back to Roge, eyes wide. 

“Just letting you know so you can prepare,” he said with a wink. “I told you those shorts would bring all the boys.” 

Although she'd made them for the occasion, she didn't think they would pull the amount of attention they were getting. Her clothes often garnered a lot of lingering glances, though they usually came from other women. 

Someone tapped on her shoulder and she turned.

The same guy was standing in front of her. He was much taller up close, had light eyes, and his hair looked like it might be blonde. It was hard to tell under the dim dancefloor lights. 

He flashed her a charismatic smile. The gap between his front teeth only added to his charm. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, leaning in and yelling to be heard over the music. 

Jessie wasn’t generally the type to accept drinks from random strangers, but this guy was hot, had nice style, and of all the dudes that had stared at her that evening, was the first one to do something about it. 

“Sure,” she yelled back. 

“Wanna go to the bar?”

After she nodded and they started walking through the mass of dancers, she glanced over her shoulder. Roge lifted his phone out of his pocket and shook it at her. His flashlight turned on. 

She sent him a text about going to the bar and his flashlight, made sure the ringer was turned on, and slipped her phone back into her shorts pocket. Another good thing about making her own clothes: she could make the pockets as big as she needed.

Matthew couldn’t keep the smug smile off his face at the glares and disappointed looks that followed them to the bar.

“What'll you have?” the bartender asked as they came to a stop in the corner of the club. It was a bit quieter. 

“A mojito, please” she said, before gathering her hair into a fist behind her and running her hand down the length of it. 

Momentarily distracted by her actions and the flash of dark red, the bartender had to ask him again what he wanted. 

“Beer would be great,” he said, flashing a bright smile, “whatever light you recommend.” Glancing back at the girl, he ran a hand through his hair to make sure it wasn’t doing something stupid, and said, “I'm Matthew, by the way. “

“Jessie. Are you from around here?”

“No, but my brother lives here. You?”

“My family is from here, but I'm usually in the states.” she said, watching the bartender muddle the mint in her drink. He didn’t seem to be doing anything funny with it. 

“Yeah? Which one?”

“New York. Well, technically New Jersey, but I study in New York.”

“What do you study?” Matthew asked, lifting his beer bottle to his lips. 

“Fashion.”

“I should have guessed,” he said. 

“You should have?”

“Yeah. You have great style.”

The smile that spread over her face made him want to kiss her. 

“What do you do, Matthew?” she asked, as she brought the black straw in her drink to her mouth. She caught it between her tongue and teeth before her lips wrapped around it. 

His train of thought ran off the rails with visions of her mouth wrapping around other things.

Thankfully, autopilot kicked in and saved him from looking like a total creep, “I play hockey.” 

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “I'm based in Florida.”

“Why the hell are you in Ottawa for New Years,” she asked, aghast, “when you could be somewhere warm?”

“We played here yesterday, so my family are all staying with my brother. Why are you here?”

“My dad grew up here, and wanted us to experience the joys of the frozen tundra at Christmastime,” she said with a long sweep of her hand, as if gesturing to the whole country. 

He laughed again, and held her eye contact. It was so intense, she was the one to break it. 

“Anyway,” she flipped her free hand, “what do you do for fun?” 

“I honestly don’t have that much free time, but I always enjoy a good libation,” he said, holding up his bottle. 

A wide smile spread over his face when she clinked her glass against it as she said, “amen.” 

“And I like to hang out with people and I play a lot of other sports.” 

“I will never understand why athletes always want to play other sports. It’s not like I sew upholstery when I’m not making clothes.” 

He laughed, loud and genuine, and Jessie felt her heart flutter a little. 

“It can be hard to turn off the competitive drive, so it helps to have somewhere to channel it. So did you make these clothes?” he asked, nodding at her outfit. 

“Yeah. I found this gold fabric,” her fingers ran down the stripe on her left hip, “and fell in love with the idea of tuxedo shorts for New Years. I play around with a lot of menswear styles.” 

“I like them,” he said. If he, by some miracle, got nominated for another award, maybe he would get a gold striped tux made. 

“We have to wear suits to all of our games, so I’m always looking for something new and interesting,” he said. 

The conversation lulled for a moment, and he continued, “what do you do for fun?” 

“I also enjoy a good libation,” she clinked her glass against his again, “and I like to play tennis and I love movies.” 

The rest of the night was spent in that little corner of the bar, talking and laughing - Matthew was funny. Quick with a movie quote and a sarcastic comment in her ear. She told him about coming to the club with her cousins, only one of whom she really knew, and he told her about coming with his family. A younger, married brother, and a sister still in college. 

He refreshed their drinks and marveled at finding a woman who could keep up with his banter, genuinely laughed at his jokes and seemed interested in him as a person rather than as Matthew Tkachuk. 

They talked about hockey, she knew some as her dad was Canadian, but not a lot, then about fashion. 

She admitted one of the reasons she’d said yes to his drink had been his pants. 

“Listen, more American men need to understand how many more girls they’d get if they just wore the right pants!” 

He cocked an eyebrow. 

“Your pants are fitted properly so I can see your ass and your thighs, and it makes you about a thousand times more attractive.” 

A cocky smile spread over his face, “Oh, yeah?” he asked, leaning into her space. 

She gulped, “yeah. If more men wore pants like yours, they wouldn’t be single.” 

He stayed in her space, and her eyes darted to his lips. He licked them, just to see what she would do at the flash of his tongue. 

Her eyes darted back to his and her cheeks pinked. He smiled. 

The music changed to a slower, more house-style song he recognised. Jessie bumped her shoulders to the beat. 

“Do you want to dance?” Matthew asked.  

“Sure.” 

They moved to the floor, and he watched, entranced as she swung her hips in rhythm.

When she turned around, pressing flush against him, his right hand immediately grasped her hip, as if that might provide some kind of grounding from the fluttering feeling in his chest. 

It wasn’t like this had never happened - girls grinding up on him. It happened quite a lot, actually. Sometimes without any kind of consent. But this? Jessie? He couldn't get enough. She was pretty and they had the kind of instant chemistry you couldn't fake. 

He found himself thinking about her beyond that night. A first since Heidi. 

For her part, Jessie couldn't stand not touching him any longer. The chemistry between them was so palpable, she was surprised other club goers weren’t getting caught in it. Feeling him move against her made desire rumble to life in her belly, growling to be released. 

They danced that way for - Matthew lost track of how many songs. She felt amazing pressed up against him. He was so in tune with how they moved together, the dancing felt like foreplay. 

When the countdown to midnight began, she turned to face him. They were still so close - she could feel his body heat seeping through his clothing and into hers, see the way his button down was just starting to cling to his skin. 

Matthew looked down at her, not hiding any of his interest. She looked back with so much hope and lust in her eyes, his stomach twisted. 

“Three, two, one!” the crowd cheered. 

He leaned down, then paused, “okay?” 

Rising onto her toes, she closed the gap between them in answer. 

All of their flirting was leading up to this moment, and Jessie wasn’t disappointed at all. It was as if everything around them faded into soft focus and the din of the crowd melted away. It was better than she could have imagined. His tongue brushed along hers, and heat flooded her stomach. 

Matthew angled closer when her fingers slid into his hair. His hand splayed over her lower back. He wished he didn’t have this beer bottle so he could have both hands on her.

It went on and on for what felt like ages - a promise of things to come. 

Someone cat called from nearby, and Jessie broke away, pursing her lips to hide how flustered she felt. At least he was as breathless as she was, his chest expanding to the confines of his shirt with every inhale. 

They stared at each other for a moment longer, not quite engaged with the crowd, which was growing increasingly restless with the New Year in full swing.

She was debating between kissing him again, or asking if he wanted to leave all together when the lights went out, plunging them into total darkness. 

The suddenness of it made her laugh. She thought it must be some kind of prank until all at once, a mono tone alarm started to scream. Lights began to strobe - harsh, bright flashes that instantly made spots appear in her vision. 

The word “fire” was popping up in the crowd.

Just as he was starting to register what was happening, murky water cascaded from the ceiling. 

The club was dissolving into chaos. Matthew snapped out of his reverie, and looked around for Taryn. 

“I have to find my sister,” he told her.

As Jessie's face was illuminated by the flashing lights, she looked stricken and worried. 

“I’ll call you, though!” he promised.

“But -” she watched him run off, knowing she hadn't given him her number. She didn't even know his last name. 

“Jessie!” Roger yelled from somewhere to her left. Her eyes roved for him, and landed when he shouted again, waving his cell phone flashlight in his own face.

She ran to him, and they followed the swarming crowd outside. 

To her complete surprise, smoke was pouring out of the building and the fire department was pulling up. She had been certain someone had pulled the alarm as a prank. 

“Fuck it’s cold out here,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself, as if that would do any good. Her coat was inside, a pair of wool tights tucked in one of the pockets. She'd planned to put them on in the bathroom before they left. 

“We should call it,” Lacey said. “Catch the next train. If we hurry we won't have to wait for another one.”

“But my coat’s in there,” Jessie complained. She hadn't made it, but she may as well have, she’d altered it so much. It was the best thing in her wardrobe. 

“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Roger assured, “but Lacey’s right, we should get out of here. We’re soaked and it’s below freezing.”

It wasn't just the coat. She didn’t want to lose Matthew. She hoped she might run into him in the parking lot, but had yet to see him.   

Roger and Lacey were right. Her wet clothing was already starting to freeze - stiffening and biting into her skin. Glancing around the crowd once more, she hoped she might see him, but there were too many people moving in too many different directions. 

As Roger pulled her away, she hoped against hope the universe would bring them back together. It had been so long since she'd felt a spark like she had with him.

“Who was that girl you were kissing at midnight?” Taryn asked, her tone suggestive as she waggled her eyebrows at her oldest brother. 

“Her name is Jessie,” he said, looking around for Brady. He finally spotted him with Emma and some of the Sens guys across the parking lot. 

“Seemed pretty serious.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “We got on, that’s all.” 

“I’ve seen you look like that before, and that was not just getting on with someone,” Taryn argued. “I hope you got her number.” 

“I did,” he assured, then stopped dead in their pursuit through the crowd. 

Taryn ran into his back. “Matthew!” she complained. 

He was too busy digging his phone out of his pocket to apologize or move out of the way. Thankfully, it wasn’t ruined. As he opened his recent contacts, though, he found his fear confirmed. 

Taryn pushed on his back, “Matthew, move! I wanna get inside.” 

The older brother in him took control, wrapping his arm around Taryn's shoulder to lead them to Brady and finally into the car to go home. 

As they settled into the SUV, heat blasting to melt the ice that had formed in their hair and on their cheeks, Emma punched Matthew in the arm. “That was some New Year's kiss, Matty.” 

The disappointment of reality bit into him, and he snapped, “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Whoa,” Brady said in warning. 

Matthew leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. The possibility of her was still buzzing on his skin. 

The future was being ripped out of his grasp. How could so much hope be dashed so quickly? So completely? He'd been making plans in his head. Immediately, where they were going to spend the night if she was willing. Beyond that, how he would see her whenever he was in New York, and beyond that? Hopefully something that ended up with them together. 

“Oh no,” Taryn whispered, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. “You didn’t get her number did you?” 

He shook his head. 

“Oh, Matthew,” Taryn said, laying a hand on his back, “I’m sorry.” 

The rest of the night, he lay in Brady’s guest bedroom, Taryn in the bed next to his, and tried to relax. It wasn’t working. He could still feel the phantom of her grinding up against him, and if he thought about it too much, he got hard. 

Opening Instagram, he typed “Jessie” into the search. There were pages and pages of results. He scrolled through, hoping he might see her face. When the photos started to blur together, he clicked off the app. 

Feeling hopeless, he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Jessie’s face was etched on the inside of his eyelids. He saw her smiling, heard her laugh ringing in his ears, felt her lips so perfectly fitted between his own. They should have been tangled up in bed together. The actuality of his loneliness was a slap in the face every time he turned over. 

It was after four when he finally fell asleep.

He woke sometime around 10am when Taryn sat by his feet. 

“Mom wants to know why you’re still in bed,” she said when he sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. “I told her you were hungover.” 

“Thanks,” he said dryly.  

“Listen, I heard you last night.” 

His hands dropped and he gave her a suspicious look. “And what did you hear last night?” 

She took a deep breath. “I heard you crying.” 

A groan fell out of his mouth as his head tipped back. He didn’t even try to deny it. It hadn’t lasted long, the crying, but he hadn’t been able to stop it for a few minutes. He was sure Taryn heard his sniffling. 

“Is this about that girl?” 

“Listen, Taryn, I don’t want to -” 

She cut in, “Matthew, I saw the way you looked after you kissed her. It’s the same way Brady looks at Emma.”

Shit. He was in deeper than he thought. And they hadn’t even slept together yet. He didn’t even know her last name. If he knew her last name, he’d be able to find her. 

Letting his hands fall in his lap, he slouched over, and let the reality of what happened wash over him again. He would get over it eventually, but now? It felt too close to push aside. 

Taryn’s hand came to rest on his knee, “I was thinking, what if she left something at the club? I mean, people must have left coats and things with the fire alarm. We could at least try. See if you can leave your number for her, or something.” 

A spark of hope flickered to life in his chest. “Yeah, that’s a really good idea.” 

Jessie wasn’t too surprised to see the tent in front of the club when they pulled up. The post on their Instagram page said they would be available for people to pick up their belongings all day. Two women were sitting there, bundled up to the hilt. As she got closer, she saw the propane heaters. At least that was something. 

“How can we help you, darlin?” 

“Yeah, I was here last night, and I hoped I could get my coat that I left with the coat check?” 

One of the women stood, “what does it look like?” 

“It’s a black wool trench, and it has sort of wavy lapels,” she demonstrated on herself. “There’s a pair of gray wool tights in the left pocket.” 

She walked over to a rack behind their table.

The Club had seen better days, that was for sure. Some of the glass had been blown out from the heat, and there were charred bricks on the front from where the flames had licked out the windows. 

“Is it condemned?” 

“No, but it’ll take us a while to remodel, especially with the winter,” the other woman said, giving her a smile. 

“Did they find out what caused it?” 

“Not yet, but we’re pretty sure it was some faulty wiring.” 

“Here we go. Is this it?” The other woman, the one with pink hair, turned the coat around. 

Jessie smiled, relieved, “Yes.”

As she reached for the coat, she debated about the next part. What was the harm really? She knew she would be kicking herself all the way home if she didn’t. 

“I know this is a little strange, but I met someone last night, but we were separated before we could exchange numbers, and I wondered if he’d come by?” 

“I’m not sure. We’ve seen quite a few people today.”

“His name was Matthew, and he had curly hair, light eyes, and he was tall.” 

They looked at each other, each shaking their head. “I don’t think we’ve seen anyone like that today.”

She wasn’t sure what she would have done if they had. 

“Do you want to leave a note for him, or something?” 

She chewed on her lip, petting the smoke soaked coat draped over her arm. If he happened to come by, it might work. But what if he didn’t? Or what if some other guy with curly hair came by, and they gave him her note? 

She shouldn’t have even asked. It was fruitless. What did she expect? That he would just walk out of the building: here I am! 

“No,” she said, defeated. “I was just hoping.”

“Well, love has a way of coming back when you least expect it.” 

It felt like such a throw-away thing to say. “Yeah, I hope so,” Jessie said, turning back to her parents' car, parked in the lot.  

Matthew walked up to the women sitting in front of the club. He knew he was used to the Florida warmth by now, and just despised the cold on principle, but sitting out here? In this? They were nuts. 

“Hi, honey,” the older, motherly looking one greeted, “did you leave something here last night?” 

Yeah, my future, he thought. 

“No, I was hoping,” he reached up to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I mean, I met someone here last night and I was -” 

“Are you Matthew?” the other woman interrupted. 

His eyes shot to hers. “Yeah,” he said, breathless with anticipation. 

“Oh no,” the women looked at each other. One had her hand over her mouth. 

“Someone was just here looking for you.” 

Hope started hammering in his chest. 

“Pretty little thing, lovely red hair.” 

“Yeah,” his heart was running so fast he felt like he might be sick. 

“I’m so sorry honey, we asked her if she wanted to leave a note or something, but she decided not to.” 

Now he really was going to throw up. 

They had been so close. So close to meeting again. Why hadn’t she left a note? Why didn’t he just get her number last night? 

Because he’d planned on asking her for it in the morning. 

“Well, thanks anyway,” he said, hand falling limply at his side. 

“Good luck. I hope she finds her way back to you.” 

“Thanks,” he said, turning back to the car. Taryn was watching with rapt anticipation. He shook his head and her expression fell. 

**Nine Months Later**

For the first time since moving, the bright Florida sunshine didn't make Jessie smile as she got out of bed. That September morning, she woke up to an anxious fluttering in her chest, trying to tell herself it was going to be a day like any other. She would go to the shop and sew that new sculptural blazer for the window. She'd help Raul with his clients and do the same things she’d been doing every other work day for the past three months. 

It didn’t matter that some of the Florida professional hockey team were coming in for suits for the new season. She’d already checked, and there wasn’t a Matthew on the books. 

Even if he did show up, he had probably moved on. It was just her romantic streak that kept him alive in her memory. 

After a few miserable, sulky hours on New Year's Day, Roger had finally suggested she look him up. 

“I don’t know his last name, Roge.” 

“Didn’t you say he plays hockey in Florida?” he’d asked, pulling out his phone. He found a roster for her to look through - all men in blue, none of them Matthew. There wasn’t even a Matthew on the team. 

“I think it’s hopeless,” she said. 

“Hold on, there’s another one.”

“Another what?” 

“Another team.” 

“Here, I think this is him?” he turned the phone around and Matthew was staring at her, a smug little smile on his face. 

Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were blue. And his hair was a dark blonde, with almost a gingery tone to it. 

“Matthew Tkachuk?” she asked, trying to pronounce all the letters. It came out a bit of a garbled mess. 

“Look him up on Insta.” 

So she had. She found him easily. He was verified with over 150 thousand followers. 

She messaged him, hoping. 

Hey this is Jessie from last night before the fire stole our thunder. 

He’d never even seen her message. She had checked every day for a while, then every couple of weeks until she'd all but forgotten about it, moving on with her life. 

Pulling out her phone now, she scrolled down to the thread. The date was still staring at her, no read notifications in sight. 

Matthew wasn't even all that great. That’s what she told herself every time she went on another failed date with some guy so boring she wanted to just drop off the chair and fall asleep on the bar floor. If she let herself believe he really was as charming and interested and built just for her as he’d seemed, she would never go on another set up or app date again. It had been the alcohol and the rush of the new year that had painted him in such rosy light. It was likely he was just another boring dude like all the rest. 

The pink lace she put on under her clothes before going to work was for her, and she wasn’t hoping anyone would get to see it. 

She absorbed herself with structuring the new women’s blazer all morning until the appointment at 2. 

Matthew wasn’t entirely certain why he’d agreed to go with Benny that afternoon. He already had a suit guy in St. Louis. He didn’t need another one. But Sam was persuasive, a few other guys were going, and Matthew was always looking for something new. When you have to wear the same item of clothing over and over again, might as well make it something interesting. 

Walking into the little shop, he could see why Sam liked it. There were racks and racks of interesting fabrics. Subtle and bold patterns and solid colors he never would have considered for a suit before. 

As the other guys got to browsing, Matthew wandered over to the wall of photos. In every one, a short, dark haired man was posing with various people in beautiful suits. Sam was up there as were Barky and Bob. He didn’t know they came here too. Apparently, this was the place to be. 

Something rustled in the back, and he turned. Nothing was there, but a glass cabinet that housed a display of cufflinks. 

“Matthew?” 

His head shot up. 

A pretty young woman who wasn't in any of the photos was standing in the doorway behind the display case, holding up the heavy velvet curtain. He could see a row of sewing machines under her arm. She had on a blue skirt and a green blouse. A fabric flower was attached to her wrist, a porcupine of pins sticking out of it. 

His breath locked in his chest. She was here. In Florida. She was in front of him. The girl from the New Years Eve party he couldn’t quite convince himself to let go of for half a season and the whole summer. 

Her hair was shorter than it had been - ending at her collar bone - and a dark auburn red. He supposed it had probably always been that color. She had creamy pale skin with a dusting of freckles across her nose, and shit, had her eyes always been that green? 

He’d never seen her out of that harsh club lighting, he realized. Of course she would be prettier in the daylight. 

The murmuring behind him hushed into silence, and his mind went completely blank, as if he’d never had a thought in his life. 

“Hey,” he heard himself say. The shock of seeing her was so intense, he couldn’t remember her name. He’d just been thinking about her last week after another failed third date.

Sam shot him a questioning look.  

He was in shock. He was overwhelmed. He was… he was… he was acting like an idiot. 

His heart thundered in his ears. She was looking at him like she was trying to figure out if he remembered who she was. 

“Jessie,” she said hesitantly, pointing to her chest. “From New Years?”

Didn’t he remember? His face was branded into her memory. The dream of him - of them - roared to life in her chest unbidden. Her body reacted instantly, as if no time had passed. 

Right. Jessie, Jessie, Jessie, he thought.

Cool. He needed to play this cool. “Oh, hey,” he said. “How’ve you been?” 

As soon as it was out of his mouth, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Hope fell right off her face. He saw the moment it happened, and it sliced through him like a knife to the gut. 

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

She wasn’t some old acquaintance he hadn’t seen in a while. She was the girl he kept coming back to. The one he thought about after failed dates or that relationship that started at the beginning of the summer only to fizzle out six weeks later. She was his, it might have been, girl.

The man walked in then, forcing her into the shop. “Ah, I see you have met Jessica. She just graduated from FIT in New York,” he bragged, “and is helping us expand into womens suiting. She’s also a marvelous tailor, so she’ll be helping with the suits as well. Jessica, these are the clients I was telling you about. From the ice hockey team. Good clients. They like interesting things.” 

She painted a smile on her face that almost looked convincing. “I can’t wait to help.” 

“You,” Raul said, “I don't know you.”

“Matthew,” he said, holding a hand out to the older Italian man. “Sam said you make the best suits on the eastern seaboard.”

Raul pulled out the leather bound book that served as his ledger, and flipped to the section Jessie had been looking at that morning, simply marked, Hockey.

“Last name?” he asked. 

He spelled it out, then pronounced it, “Tkachuk. The T is silent.” 

Raul nodded, noting the silent letter next to his name. 

“Jessica and I will take your measurements,” he said, gesturing him over to the plinth near the mirrors surrounded by dark wood. 

Jessie picked up a notebook and followed Raul. Matthew had definitely recognised her, he’d been shocked by her appearance, even. Then he treated her like…like a one night stand or an acquaintance he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to reunite with. It hurt more than it should have to have the things she was telling herself come true. 

She had hoped Raul would let her help the other clients, but luck seemed to be against her. At least he hadn’t handed her the tape. She didn’t know what she would have done if  her hands brushed against Matthew’s body. She already felt on edge just being in the same room as him. 

“Very important to get the thigh measurement with these hockey players,” Raul was saying as he threaded a measuring tape around Matthews upper thigh. “Big legs.” 

“It’s from all the skating,” Matthew said, almost out of habit. 

Jessie was doing a very good job of not looking at him. She had a little notebook in her hands and she kept her eyes trained on it as she wrote down every body part and corresponding number Raul called out. Upper thigh, lower thigh, calf, hip to knee, knee to ankle. Matthew had been measured like this before, so he just stood still and let the man do his work. 

“So, Jessie, right?” Josh asked, leaning onto one of the mirrors, nearby where she was standing, not quite in Matthew’s peripheral vision. 

She hummed in agreement. Raul was still calling out numbers to her, and she couldn’t divide her focus that well. 

“What brought you all the way down to Florida from New York?” 

Matthew clenched his jaw to keep from telling Josh off. As much as he wanted it, he didn’t have any claim over Jessie.

“Um,” she said, still jotting numbers. She spared a glance at him. He had long, unruly, dark hair, dark eyes, and a goofy smile. She smiled back, “can you give me just a minute to finish up here?” she asked, pointing at Matthew’s stomach with the cap of her pen. 

Josh blushed, “yeah, of course.” 

She went back to her notebook, face impassive once more. 

Josh stayed where he was. 

“So Chucky, what do you think about the schedule this year?” 

Matthew shrugged, then snapped himself back into place at Rauls reprimand. “Sorry,” he mumbled. 

Jessie gagged internally. hoping that wasn’t really his nickname. Chucky was either a possessed doll, or a possessed rat mascot, neither of which she liked to think about for very long. 

They continued to talk about something with their team. When she and Raul finished, she handed the notebook off to him, which he would transcribe into the ledger. He still didn’t trust her to do it the way he liked. 

Matthew didn’t move off the plinth, but she turned to the other man, “sorry, what was your question?” 

She sounded so polite, so formal. Sure, they’d only met that one night, but she hadn’t been guarded like this at that club in Ottawa. He supposed that was probably his fault. God, why was he such an idiot?

“I wondered what brought you to Florida. It’s a long way from New York.” 

“Oh, the heat,” she said. “I was so tired of the north-east cold.”

“And you know Raul…”

“He and one of my mentors are great friends, and he got us in touch. I have some family down here, and wanted to live somewhere warm for a change. Raul wanted to expand into some womenswear, and tailoring happens to be one of my specialties.” She said it without much emotion. Just stating the facts. “We met, I made him and myself a suit to audition, and here we are.” 

Matthew opened his mouth to say something about how he was glad she was here, but she walked away before he could force the words out. 

Josh gave him a look that said something like, women, right? 

Matthew walked away before he said something stupid.

“While I update the rest of your measurements, Jessica can help you with fabrics. She’s excellent with color. Jessica, why don’t you get the samples and help them pick out what they need.” 

She nodded, went into the back and came out with five big binders. She set them on the table, and flipped some of them open. 

She helped Reino pick out a dark teal, a blue and a few subtle plaids before moving on to someone else. 

Matthew was the last at the table. 

“What are you looking for?” she asked, trying to keep her voice and demeanor level. No need to let him know how her heart still pounded just looking at him when it was so obvious he didn’t care about her. 

“I'm always looking for something interesting,” he said. “What would you suggest?” 

Her eyes darted up to his face. His eyes were so blue - much more intense in person. He had the kind of eyes poets say hold summer skies and glacial lakes. It was the first time she really saw them, and they took her breath away. 

“Well,” she forced herself back to work, “you could pull off almost anything with your coloring. How adventurous are you?” 

“I’m willing to try anything once,” he said, trying to sound flirtatious. It just came off desperate. 

She chewed on the inside of her lip. “How many suits are you looking for?” 

“Eight,” he said. 

He didn’t need eight suits. But if it kept him at this table for longer, he would buy as many as she would sell him. 

“All for here?” 

“For here?”

“To be worn here, in Florida? The others have mentioned needing some for travel.”

“Oh, I’ll need three or four for travel, three at least for the cold.” 

They talked through colors. She opened a binder she hadn’t given anyone else. None of the other guys were as handsome, or seemed as adventurous with their style as Matthew. 

“If you’re brave enough, I think this lilac would look really good on you,” she said, pulling the pastel fabric sample off the board and holding it up. He was more bronze than he had been when they’d met, but it would still look good when his summer tan faded. 

“Okay,” he said. He trusted her style. He’d never worn lilac, but if she thought it would look good, he’d give it a shot.

Jessie got the feeling he was just agreeing with her to get this whole thing over with. Still, she couldn’t help pulling the best fabrics for him, even an expensive light blue linen blend that would make him look like Brad Pitt in Santorini. He didn't balk when she mentioned the price. He didn't even seem to notice. 

“Chucky, how did you know Jessie?” Bennet said as they walked down the block to the public parking they’d all met at. 

“A party,” he said, trying to sound non-committal. 

People got into their cars, but before Matthew could leave, Benny came up to his driver's window. “You wanna tell us what’s going on?” 

“You’re never this quiet,” Reino said from his place on Benny’s left. 

Matthew sighed and got out of the car. This was going to take a while. Sam had always been a bit of a brother to him and he knew he wouldn’t let him go without an explanation. 

“Jessie and I met last New Years Eve,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the hood of his car. 

“Okay, and what did you do? Hookup and never call her again?” 

“No!” He sounded too defensive, even to his own ears. 

Reino raised an eyebrow, “so what happened?” 

His hands raked into his hair so he didn't have to look at them as he told the story. “We met at this club in Ottawa, and we had this amazing connection. I've never felt anything like it before. Like, boom: Instant chemistry.” It felt even worse to say it out loud. 

Both guys just waited. 

“But the club caught fire.” 

“Wait, what?” Benny asked. “Really?”

“I know, man,” Matthew said, throwing his hands up, “and I thought I had her number, so I left her to find Taryn, but I didn’t, and I couldn't find her after. I didn’t think I was ever going to see her again, and then, all of a sudden she was here,” he gestured in the direction of the shop, “and I just…” 

“Fucked it?” Benny asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“So go back and talk to her,” Reino said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

He scoffed. “What would I say? ‘Hey, sorry I completely forgot your name and treated you like our connection didn't matter, but I actually haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for the past nine months?’” 

“Better than not saying anything,” Benny said. 

Matthew shook his head, “I can’t go back in there.” 

“Why not?” 

“You didn’t see her face. There’s no way she wants to talk to me.” 

A few weeks later, Jessie was piecing Matthew’s jacket from the blue linen in the back of the shop. The fabric was so light and delicate, she couldn’t even have music going while working with it. One wrong move and there would be pulled threads all over the place. She knew Raul would disapprove, but she gave herself twice the seam allowance to make sure she could finish the inside raw edges. Otherwise the fabric would start to pull apart - eventually, quite literally, fraying at the seams. 

“Uh, hello?” someone asked. 

She jumped and dropped the scissors. She let them clatter to the floor with a curse. She’d been so focused on the task at hand, she hadn’t heard the bell ring. 

“One second,” she called, before securing her pattern with an extra pin, picking up the scissors and coming out to the sales floor. 

“Hi, sorry about that. I got kind of in the zone. What can I do for you?” 

It was one of the hockey guys. The one with strawberry hair. She couldn’t help but glance around him to see if he’d brought anyone with him. 

She shouldn’t even be looking for Matthew, especially considering he'd ignored all of her phone calls about his suiting. All the same, seeing him again had awoken her longing in a way she couldn’t quite tamp down. 

“Raul said I had some suits he wanted me to try on,” he said. 

She asked his name, then went to the back to retrieve the garment bag. She remembered this one. She’d convinced him an oxblood red wouldn’t look too harsh with his coloring, and she was hoping he would like the results. 

Giving him a pair of pants, she left him in the changing room while she cut extra threads on the inside of the jacket.

Immediately, she could see the pants were a smidge too loose. They talked about his preferred fit, and he avoided looking at her as she pinned the inner thigh. All men reacted this way, but to Jessie, this was all about the garment. As far as she was concerned, he was a mannequin under these clothes. 

Finally, the questions that had been ruminating in her mind got the best of her. “So, did Matthew get traded or something?” 

“Chucky?” he asked, surprised.  

“I guess so.” 

“No,” he was laughing as he said it, “he has seven more years on his contract.”

“Oh.” 

“Why?” 

“I’ve just called him a few times about measurements, or fittings, and he’s never called back or come in.”

“Really? He told me he was here yesterday.” 

Of course he was coming in on her day off. Why had she even told him that in the message?

She stood up, and moved onto the jacket after asking him if he ever planned to wear it with a sweater. He wasn’t sure. Or if she should shorten the sleeves. He liked them a little longer. 

“Chucky told us what happened in Ottawa,” he said. 

Jessie felt her shoulders tense, but kept working. “Yeah?” she asked, not daring to look up. All this still felt too close to the surface, and she didn’t want this man she barely knew to know how much it had hurt when Matthew brushed her aside. 

“Yeah, he said he looked for you after the fire.” 

“I tried to stay, but my cousins and I were soaking wet and it was below freezing so we had to catch the train.” 

“He said he went back the next day and you’d been there, but didn’t leave a note.” 

That made Jessie gasp. Audibly. She blushed and tried to brush it off, “I was worried it might go to the wrong person,” she said, “plus I messaged him on Instagram and he never responded.” 

He hummed, debating the best way to approach this. He wanted to do some digging without letting on that’s what he was doing. “He said you guys had quite the connection.” 

Was she really going to go into this with one of his teammates? She hadn’t talked to anyone about it but Roger. Words bubbled up into her mouth so fast, she guessed she was. 

“Yeah, we did.” God, why did she have to sound so moony?

“Do you think there’s still something there?” 

“He made it pretty obvious there’s not.” 

“I don’t think he meant to do that. He was pretty shocked to see you.”

“I was shocked to see him too, but I didn’t just brush him aside.” 

“Listen, Jessie - it’s Jessie, right?”

She nodded.

“Matthew can be pretty thick. He gets so in his head, sometimes he doesn’t really think things through, but he told us what happened, and how much he liked you, and he said he fucked it and you wouldn’t want to see him again.”

She hummed, and got him a new suit to try on. She’d been right. The oxblood did look killer on him, like he could be in a GQ shoot. He looked impressed. 

“Would you want to see him again?” Sam asked. 

“If he came in here himself?”

He nodded. 

“I’d at least give him a chance.” 

Even though she would usually just move on, she’d never felt anything like the instant connection she and Matthew shared on New Years. It was the kind of thing she thought only existed in books and rom coms. Experiencing it in real life made it into something she couldn’t just walk away from.  

They talked about where they were from and made comfortable small talk for the duration of the fitting. She told him how relieved she was when Raul trusted her enough to run the shop by herself one day a week. 

“Listen, I’ll tell Chucky to come by next Wednesday. We’re leaving for the opening roadie that day, but I’ll try to get his head out of his ass before then.” 

She giggled. 

He could see why Matthew liked her, and could see how their personalities would match up well. She was kind and easy to talk to - quiet at first, but got louder as she got comfortable, and Chucky was just loud all the time. He could tell they both valued relationships more than things. 

The next week, after their final practice before the season opening road trip, Benny cornered Matthew in his stall. “You need to go see Jessie.”

“She doesn't want to talk to me, man.”

“The way she asked me about you last week would say otherwise.”

He scoffed. 

“I told her you still like her -”

“You what?!”

“She brought you up first, and you weren't doing shit, so don’t tell me I'm ruining your plans or some bull. She said she's called you a bunch of times, but you only show up when she's not there.”

“It's just easier,” Matthew mumbled. It wasn't his fault she told him when she'd be gone.

Benny rolled his eyes. “Dude, wake up. She still likes you.” 

Matthew looked at him, skeptical, “she told you that?” 

“Yes, but she didn’t need to. The first thing she asked me was if you’d been traded. We weren’t even talking about you.”

 A ridiculous amount of hope lit up his face.

“I knew it! You still like her too!”

What’s not to like? Matthew thought.

“She runs the shop on Wednesdays. Just go talk to her.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I went there last Wednesday, dumbass. She told me.” 

Matthew hesitated, still unconvinced. 

“Go. Now. I’ll drive you myself if I have to. I’m sick and tired of you moping around when there’s such an easy solution to your problem.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going,” Matthew said, holding his hands up in defeat. 

“And check your instagram. She said she sent you a message.” 

Usually when she walked onto the sales floor after the doorbell dinged, Jessie would have to search for someone among the racks of fabric samples and ready to be tailored suits. This time, a man was standing at the counter, watching her with the same determined intensity he’d shown the first time they met.

He was here. Finally. Four of his suits had been sitting in the storage room for more than a week, further proof that he was avoiding her. 

“Hi Matthew,” she greeted hesitantly. 

“Hey Jessie.”

They looked at each other in awkward silence for a moment. 

“Can I help you with something?” 

“Yeah, Raul told me some of the suits were ready?”

“They are.”

“I just came to pick those up.” 

“Oh,” the tiny spark of hope fizzled out again. Sam must not have made it through to him. 

She looked instantly downcast. 

To hell with it. He couldn't make any more of an ass of himself. “And I wanted to see you,” he blurted.

“You wanted to see…me?” she repeated, pulling a pen from her ponytail to start fiddling with it. He didn’t know why, but it struck him as such an endearing gesture. 

“Yeah,” he said, heart falling. Was Sam setting him up? He was a prankster, but not to this level, usually. Not when it was this important. 

“Why would you want to see me?” she asked, feeling that guard go up. Every time she got her hopes up about Matthew, he tore them down.

Thoughts raced through his mind. He could lie so easily, but where would that get him? It was time to just own up and blurt it out. Her reaction be damned. “Because I really like you.”

She looked surprised. Way more surprised than he’d expected. “I thought you didn’t remember.”

“How could I forget?” he asked. “I thought you must hate me since I forgot your name and acted like such an ass that first day.”

Shaking her head, Jessie wondered how on earth they got into this situation. “I mean, I was disappointed, but then, you backed it up by never coming to the shop when I was working, I thought you must be trying to avoid me.”

“I was.”

One of her eyebrows shot up.

“Not like that,” he floundered. “Like, I couldn’t stand to see you and remember how well we got on, and how much I like you, and how pretty you are when I knew I'd blown my chance and you hated me.”

She let out a laugh. “That makes no sense. What did I ever do to make you think I hated you? I called you every time something was finished, or we needed a new measurement. I gave you the best fabric selections.”

Had that been because she liked him? “I don’t know, it did in my brain. I guess I was so embarrassed I forgot your name when I like you so much, I was telling myself you must be angry with me.”

Jessie rolled her eyes. “You know, Matthew, for someone so smart, you can be pretty dumb.” 

“You think I’m smart?” He’d been called many things in his life, but smart was rarely one of them. 

“Yes. I think you’re very smart, except when it comes to romance, I guess.” 

He chuffed a laugh, grabbing the back of his neck. “I really fucked this one up, didn’t I?” 

“I don’t know,” she said, trying to be cool and hoping against hope that this last shot would land on target. If it didn’t, she was kicking him out and scrubbing him from all her memories. “I think you might still have a chance.” 

His eyes snapped to hers. “Yeah?” 

She nodded. 

Heart pounding, but trying to keep that flirty, cool skin on, he walked around the counter to remove the barrier between them. 

Knowing he still liked her brought all those feelings from the club rushing back. She’d never felt like that with anyone else. If only he knew how many times she’d replayed that night. How many times she remembered how he felt and how no one had ever kissed her like that, or swept her off her feet so quickly.

“Play your cards right,” she said, feeling breathless with the nearness of him. “And I think you might get another chance at bat.”

As he leaned in closer, her pupils dilated, and her eyes darted to his mouth. He licked his lips just to see her force her eyes back to his like last time. Her blush was even more adorable in the daylight.

“If I swing, what are my odds of getting a home run?” 

She laughed. It didn’t break the spell. It turned out that palpable chemistry was still between them, just waiting to be ignited. Their eye contact was hot and glued together.

“Maybe not today,” she said, “but I think it’s a safe bet that you’ll get on base.” 

Time moved in slow motion as he leaned in further, looking at her mouth, then her neck, then her cleavage, barely visible through the two undone buttons of her starched, white shirt, before snapping back to hers as she stopped him with a hand pressed tightly to his chest.  

“We can’t do this here. There are cameras on the floor,” she said. 

His head dropped forward in defeat. “I have to leave for Vegas in two hours,” he said, feeling more than a bit desperate. “I really don’t want to wait until I’m back.” 

“I don’t want to either, but I’m telling you, if Raul catches me making out with a client, I’m going to be out on my ass.” 

“So what do we do?”

She thought for a moment before an idea struck her. “Follow me.” 

She made a big show of walking into the back, digging his new lilac suit out of the garment bag and hanging it in the private dressing room. “You go in there. When I come back and ask you how it’s fitting, you need to tell me something needs to be adjusted and invite me in, okay?” 

“Right. Yeah, okay.” 

She put out the sign that said she would return soon and locked the front door. It wasn’t that unusual to lock up when they were helping a high profile client, anyway. Plus, Wednesdays were always the slowest day of the week, hence why she was allowed to man the shop alone. She just hoped Raul wouldn’t have any reason to review the tapes. 

Her whole chest felt like it was full of helium as she walked back to him. Were they really about to do this? 

“Everything going okay in there?” she asked. 

“Something’s wrong with this suit jacket,” he said. “Can you come take a look?” 

Upon entering, she found Matthew with his shirt already off.

Sweet Jesus, she was not prepared for that. For his sculpted body, and his chest hair, that tapered into a thin trail running down the center of his abs before it dipped enticingly into the waistband of his pants. 

“That’s not fair,” she said. 

“What’s not fair?” he reached for her and drew her to him, hands splaying over her waist.

“You’re already half naked,” she said, eyes wandering down his chest again. 

“You could be too,” he teased, playfully pulling at the shirt tucked into her waistband. He didn’t actually pull any of the fabric loose, which she appreciated. He was letting her set the pace.

“Damn, Jessie. You’re the only woman I know who can make a pant suit look sexy.” 

She laughed, and pulled the whole shirt over her head, leaving her in a white camisole, a black lace bra peeking out from underneath it. 

“Do you always wear black lingerie to work?” he asked, voice gone husky as he ran a finger under one of the straps. 

“Only when I think you might come in.” 

His eyes snapped to hers, thrilled but questioning. 

“Sam told me he was going to try to get you to come by today.”

“So this really is for me?” he felt dizzy with the prospect.

“No. It’s for me. I put it on this morning, thinking that at the very least if you came in and you were an ass again, you wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing how hot I look in my bra,” she said, before stripping off the camisole so he could see exactly how hot she looked in her bra. 

Seeing her, in black suit pants, a gold belt buckle flashing at her waist, and her sheer, floral lace bra that plunged between her breasts, the breath was sucked out of his lungs. 

His ongoing ache for her intensified, pressing insistently against the confines of his jeans. 

He stepped toward her when she once again stopped his progress with a hand to the chest. “I really like you, Matthew,” she said, swooning a little at the happiness that lit up his face, “but I was serious. I don't want to have sex.” 

“Can you define that a little more?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Like you don't want oral sex, or…” 

She wouldn't have guessed oral sex would even be on the table. She practically had to beg past boyfriends for it. 

“I mean I don't want to have penetrative sex. The first time with someone new is hard enough. I don't want to make it more complicated by taking a bed out of the equation.” 

“I get that. Plus, it'll give me something to look forward to when I get back,” he said with a grin and a cheeky wink. 

God, maybe they really were made for each other. 

As his left hand slipped to the back of her neck, the other spread over her rib cage, thumb brushing against the soft lace that cupped her breast. 

She sucked in a breath, letting her hand ghost up his torso over the ridges and valleys, until her fingers hooked over his shoulder. The other slid around to his back.

It felt like it had been a million years since they’d last done this. Not the touching, not the skin to skin, which felt like…it felt like heaven, but the longing. 

Jessie was looking at him with that same hope and lust in her eyes. It made his stomach twist with that same wanting to fulfill them both. 

It was so long coming, he wanted to savor every movement, every breath, every glance. Her eyes were so green. Somehow even more green up close. 

Finally, when their lips met, she sighed, melting against him. 

This was all together more intense and less hurried than their first kiss had been. It was a slow burn, a thorough seduction, a fulfillment of everything Matthew had been dreaming of that night they lost each other. 

When he pulled away, their heavy breaths crashed together. 

Fingertips sliding up her back, he tried to memorize the feel of her. Her skin was so soft. 

Jessie was growing impatient. Any other moment, she would love this slow seduction. Most of the time she felt like men moved too fast. Today though, she had so much sexual frustration built up for him that the weight of desire was already heavy between her legs. 

Taking matters into her own hands, she leaned in and trailed her mouth along his jaw before nipping the soft spot behind it, just under his ear. He shuddered when she soothed it with her tongue. 

“I’ve been dreaming of this for so long,” she confessed, barely above a whisper.

That snapped him into action. Taking her waist, he pulled her flush to him, and crushed his mouth to hers. 

There was the passion she’d been looking for. 

As they surged together, she felt so restless and turned on, she tried to hook a knee over his hip in an attempt to slot him between her legs. 

Groaning against her, his hand slid over her rear and down her leg to keep it elevated and wrapped around him. 

Kissing her was so much better than he remembered. How was that possible? She was so good in his dreams. In reality, she was living - flesh and bone and wanting - and he couldn’t get enough. 

Moving to her neck, he sucked her pulse point. He felt her tremble against him, but her hand still came up to pull him back to her mouth. “Nothing visible, okay? I have to go back to work.” 

He nodded and caught her lips. It might be too late for that one, but he wouldn’t do it again. 

Her desire was a wildfire, consuming every part of her. It wanted to consume him, too. 

When she tucked two of her fingers behind the button of his jeans, a moan fell into her mouth. 

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” 

She tore the zipper down, and palmed him through his boxers. His hips jumped into her hand as a moan ripped from his throat.

His fingers fumbled to her belt buckle and paused. 

“Please,” she whimpered. 

He was clumsy with desperation and the distraction of her kissing and biting his neck, but he finally got it open and her pants undone. 

The weight of the buckle sunk the waistband to the floor with a heavy clink, and Jessie stepped out of it, kicking off her shoes at the same time. Sinking her hand into his pants, she shoved them down his muscular legs. 

He nearly fell over in his attempt to get out of his shoes so he could free himself from the shackle of the fabric around his ankles. 

Jessie giggled, and moved with him as he stepped away. He finally got his first look at her in her underwear. Made of some fabric he couldn’t name, they were also black and cut high on her hip. He could see it was a thong in the mirrored wall behind her. 

His jaw grew heavy with longing, but managed to make his mouth work enough to tell her, “you’re so beautiful, Jessie.”

“Thank you. I think you’re really handsome.” she said, running a hand down his chest. And he was - he could be a living sculpture in the Greek wing of the Louvre with his curly hair and sculpted body. 

Sliding his hands over her hips, he pulled her to him once more. He hesitated for a moment, and Jessie took charge, too impatient to wait. “Matthew?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I really appreciate you getting my consent, I really, really do, but you can just move forward. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” 

“Okay.” 

She captured his mouth again and the fire roared to life between them, stoked hotter by so much skin touching skin. 

Sneaking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he pushed them down, trusting that she would stop him if she wanted to.

She didn’t want him to. 

His fingers traced back up her leg and when he stroked her, she broke from the kiss to let her head lull forward onto his shoulder. Her panting breaths were the stuff of his dreams. She was already so wet, and he wanted nothing more than to bring her pleasure. 

“Oh,” she moaned when he explored more, running a couple of rough fingers from her entrance to her throbbing bundle of nerves. She rocked into his hand, and he took the hint, caressing her over and over again until she was trembling and moaning. 

“Matthew,” her voice was wrecked: desperate and thick with longing. 

“What do you need?” 

“Your fingers,” she begged, “inside me.” 

He obeyed, following the rhythm she set. Pressing the pad of his thumb to her clit, a wicked, self satisfied smile took over his face as her head tipped back, and her breath hitched. 

He rutted against her thigh in an attempt to pacify some of his own lust. 

“Oh,” she moaned, “just like that.” Her hands slid to his arms, clinging to his biceps. 

He wanted to eat her pleasure for breakfast - sustain himself with it on long, lonely nights. He knew he would dream of her voice and all her little sounds through the whole ten days away, anxious to come back to the very actual reality of her. He kept having to remind himself this wasn’t a dream.

Body shaking, she cried out. 

Feeling her core pulse around him again and again, the release was so long coming, it seemed to go on forever.

Matthew continued to stroke and leaned in, kissing her right through her orgasm.

As her breathing finally slowed, he eased his fingers from her. 

“Oh my god,” she said, still clutching him to stay upright. “I’m so pissed we had to wait nine months for this.” 

Laughter barked out of his mouth.

When she could make her hands work, Jessie pulled his hard, hot length from his boxers, and stroked a few times. 

His mouth fell open, and he panted, “it’s bullshit, right?”

“Such bullshit,” she agreed, devouring the pleasure that washed over his face.

“Wait,” he said, grasping her wrist. “I want this to last.” 

“You already got me off,” she said. “What do you need to wait for?” 

“I'm not going until you've come at least twice. What's the point of women being able to have multiple orgasms if I can't give them to you?”

That was some flawed logic, but she allowed him to pull her hand away. She wasn’t going to say no.

“Can I taste you?” 

“If you want,” she said hesitantly, as if he might be pulling some kind of prank. She'd never had a man offer to go down on her first.

“I do want,” he said, guiding her to lean against the mirrored wall and sinking to his knees. “I've been wondering how you taste since we met.”

Maybe that oral fixation all the girls talked about online was actually true.

“Can you put your leg up here?” he asked, sliding a gentle hand to the back of her knee, and lifting so the joint bent around his palm. He guided her foot to the stool. 

When he looked up at her, his blue eyes shining with excitement, she retraced their steps to get there. Not even ten minutes before would she have expected to end up with Matthew Tkachuk eating her out in the back dressing room. 

“That feels okay?” he confirmed, palm stroking back up her thigh.

God, he was even making sure she was comfortable. Her whole body fluttered in anticipation. “Yeah,” she breathed. 

Every other time a man had given her oral, they were fast and sloppy, obviously trying to get it over with as soon as possible. With Matthew, he seemed to be dragging it out for his own pleasure, tasting and teasing like he just couldn’t get enough. He was driving her crazy - winding her tighter and tighter. 

“Matthew,” she moaned. It was better than any of his dreams. Better than any fantasy. “More. Please. More.” 

She felt his lips briefly curve into a smile against her before he really got to work. Licking with the whole flat of his tongue, then flicking with the tip, he was suddenly everywhere. 

Her hand scrambled for purchase on the wall behind her. Met only with the slick mirror, her fingers fumbled into his hair, searching for anything to hold on to. 

He groaned into her, almost as if in pain.

“O-okay?” she asked, voice shaking as she attempted to loosen her grip.

When she felt his response but couldn't hear it, it took all her willpower to push him away. She was not going to hurt him, especially when he had been so insistent on her consent. She could feel his hard breathing rushing over her and it set her skin to trembling. 

“Okay?” she asked again. 

“Good,” he assured, eyes flicking up to meet hers. “I'll let you know if you pull too hard,” he said with a wink before diving back in. 

Her head thunked back against the mirror. He really was made for her, that was the only explanation. 

 God, she was perfect. She tasted like paradise, like water in the desert, like his favorite meal after a long period of fasting. She satiated his every craving. 

Pleasure began to tingle low in her pelvis. It loosened her hips and turned her legs to putty. She'd never had a man take this much interest, let alone put so much effort into her pleasure. She moaned something unintelligible, even to her own ears.

His competitive drive growled into a higher gear, demanding to please her until she whimpered and begged. He licked and sucked and spelled his own name with his tongue, gauging where she liked to be touched most. 

“Matthew,” she moaned. “Oh my god, Matthew.”

He slipped a finger into her, and she cried out. Her hand tightened in his hair when he added another. 

A whimper on every exhale, she panted, trying to keep some semblance of control. It shattered when he gently kneaded her g spot. 

Pleasure thundered low in her belly, and she was forced over the cliff, glad to know Matthew would be there to catch her fall. Her vision turned hazy as she crashed. Time and space exploded into nothing more than shadowy constructs. She heard herself shout as if listening from another room.

When she came back to herself, Matthew was still languidly tasting her folds, one of his forearms braced over her hips to keep her upright. 

Pushing him away from her core, she tried to catch her breath. 

As he sat back, he wiped his face with his free hand. The satisfaction of pleasing her rumbled contentedly in his chest. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I fucking love you.” 

He laughed, a look of delighted surprise on his face.

The reality of what she'd just said hit her and Jessie covered her face with her hands, “oh my god. I can't believe I just said that out loud.”

“That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me during sex.” 

Relief sunk into her bones. Soul mates. They had to be soul mates. 

A few moments later, she finally found her feet and pushed away from the mirror.

“Alright,” she said, reaching for him and wrapping her fingers around his erection. He stumbled toward her, anxious to feel more. 

She smoothed the precome leaking from the tip onto the shaft with her thumb. “I think it's my turn to taste now.” 

Matthew wasn't entirely sure what he'd expected her to do, but lowering to her knees in front of him right away hadn't been at the top of the list. He expected her to jerk him off for a minute, maybe kiss and tease him a little. Not that he was complaining. If she was willing, he'd gladly accept. 

“Do you like more suction or more mouth?” she asked before licking the underside of his shaft. 

Oh God.

“I dont - I don't care.” He wasn't sure he was even going to last long enough for it to make a difference. He felt so close to the surface already. 

“You don't care?” she repeated, sitting back on her haunches to look up at him. 

With her mouth off of him, he could explain his reasoning a little better. 

“Frankly, I've been dreaming about this for so long, I could almost bust just from seeing you on your knees.” 

She was flattered and also a little relieved she wasn't the only one. 

“Okay,” she said as she reached up to pump him a few times. “Something we'll figure out later.”

The fact that she was thinking about the future, too, made him weak. 

Her lips wrapped around his tip, tongue caressing, and he was right there. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Jessie,” he moaned, “god that feels good.”

Was it the best blow job ever? Objectively no, but it was Jessie, so it felt more important than any that came before it. He felt like he was fifteen again, getting his first head, amazed by everything and having no restraint. 

“I'm - I'm gonna come,” he moaned, trying to pull back so as not to come in her mouth. 

Jessie would rather have it in her mouth than all over her, so she gripped the backs of his thighs to keep him in place. 

“Oh, fuck.” How could she possibly be this perfect? 

She sucked and caressed and he exploded with a long low groan. 

She kept licking, albeit more gently, until he pulled back, sensitivity making it too much to bear.

“Holy shit,” he said. The room felt muggy and he felt content in a way he'd been longing for since they'd lost each other. 

“Yeah,” she agreed. 

He helped her to her feet, and pulled her against him, wanting to feel her close. 

A while later, her phone, which had fallen out of one of her pants pockets, buzzed and the time flashed. 

“Shit! I have to go,” he said, scrambling for his clothes. “I still have stuff to pack!” 

“When’s your flight?”

“In an hour, but I have to drive home and then to the airport.”

They rushed to get their clothes back on. He hated seeing her bra disappear under the camisole again. 

As soon as he was dressed, he grabbed her jaw and kissed her. Her hands floated from tucking her shirt to cup his face. 

He'd just had her, but the wanting roared back to life as soon as she touched him, as if his body was trying to remind him what was possible between them. Like he could ever forget. 

“This was so amazing. I promise I'll take you on a real date when I'm back, and I'll call you while I’m gone,” he said. “I'm sorry I have to dash out of here.”

He kissed her again, hard and purposefully, before rushing out of the dressing room. 

“Wait!” she chased him onto the sales floor still tucking her shirt, “my number. You need my number.” 

“Oh my god,” he slapped a palm to his forehead. “I can't believe I almost left without it again!”

She giggled, “you're not getting away from me this time.”

They exchanged numbers and Matthew raced home. 

He rushed to pack the last of his things, grateful for the example his dad set, in always having a base bag packed the day before a road trip just in case something came up. 

He was the last one on the plane, a first for him.

“Chucky just got fucked!” someone yelled. 

Matthew felt his cheeks get hot. His hair was probably wild from Jessie's hands, and he could feel the love bite on his neck, a sure sign it would soon be a full blown mark. 

Reino met his eyes and raised a brow. Jessie? he mouthed. 

Matthew nodded. 

He wiped the back of his hand over his brow in mock relief. 

“Oh thank God,” Bennett exclaimed from across the aisle. “I thought I was going to have to lock you two in a room until you got together.”

Matthew laughed. 

When he got settled, he sent Jessie a text. Just on the plane, but I'm missing you already. I'm back on the 14th, so pencil me in for that date. 

I have you in for the weekend. We have a lot of time to make up for. 

Fanciction Masterlist

#the winter fic exchange 2k24 #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk smut #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #matthew tkachuk one shot #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #hockey romance #hockey fic #hockey smut

[leafsbabe]

Matthew Tkachuk - just one of those days (SMUT)

cw: talks about bad body image, 2.2k words

Most of the time you didn’t care about your looks or your weight or what other people thought of your appearance. You felt good about yourself and that was the only thing that mattered.

But sometimes —randomly and out of the blue— insecurities would hit, crushing you under the weight of impossible beauty standards.

When those days hit you it was your first instinct to avoid Matthew. He was a wonderful boyfriend, caring and loving and never failing to let you know how much he loved you inside and out. But when you were in that messed up headspace every compliment felt insincere, like he wasn’t calling you beautiful because that’s what he thought, but rather because he felt like that’s what you wanted to hear. It made you feel selfish, like you were constantly asking to be called pretty.

When those days happened while Matthew was gone it almost felt like a blessing and a curse at the same time. You could spend an extra hour at the gym, go get treatments and spend a lot of money on issues that hadn’t existed two days ago. But Matthew not being there also meant you had nobody to talk you down when you started to spiral.

It was just your luck that Matthew would be coming home from a road trip in the late evening. You could just go to bed early, avoid Matthew a little while longer, and then hopefully wake up tomorrow morning in a better headspace. 

You got ready for bed without turning on the lights, not wanting to look at yourself while brushing your teeth or changing. It was a rough day; it didn’t need to be a rough night. Forgoing your usual sleepwear of a tanktop and shorts you put on an old shirt of Matthew’s —so well loved it had stretched and gotten insanely soft— and a pair of sweatpants you found somewhere in your drawers. They might have been Matthew’s as well, judging by the way they sat on your hips.

You curled up in your shared bed around sunset but no matter how you tossed and turned, sleep evaded you. Hours later you were still awake, laying in the large empty bed and staring at the wall. When Matthew came home sometime in the night you could hear him make his way through your apartment —letting his keys fall into the bowl at the entryway that Chantal had gifted you, the fridge door opening and closing, the water from the shower. He tried to be quiet and had you been asleep he wouldn't have woken you up but you weren’t and so you waited for Matthew to crawl into bed behind you.

It didn’t take him long to notice you were awake. Matthew got clingy when he was tired, cuddling up to you or spooning you with his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you against his chest. With you curled up on your side under the blankets it only made sense for him to slide in behind you and wrap himself around your body.

At first you still pretended to be asleep but Matthew wasn’t easily fooled. He pressed his lips to the back of your head for a moment before letting his own head fall down on your pillow alongside yours. His free hand found your waist under the blanket before moving up, shamelessly settling on one of your boobs as a sigh left your lips.

“Did you wait up or are you having trouble sleeping?” His voice was soft in the darkness of the room.

“Trouble sleeping.” You answered. “Just…  I had a few bad days.”

Those bad days weren’t a new thing and Matthew knew all about them. He hiked a leg over yours and pulled you even closer, clinging to you. “I love you.” He mumbled into your hair before pressing another kiss to the back of your head. “And you’re sexy as fuck. I know you don’t feel that way right now but I’ll love you enough for both of us until you feel better again.”

The last thing you wanted to do was be a burden so telling Matthew how you truly felt was not an option for you, but simply having him there, telling you that he loves you and finds you attractive sexy, helped.

Even if your brain acted up sometimes and made you think the worst, Matthew loved you anyway. He proved to you that those bad thoughts were wrong again and again.

“I missed you.” His hand left your chest briefly before finding its way under your shirt, skillfully avoiding touching anything that could cause you to shy away, and settling on your boob once more.

It wasn’t unusual for him to just hold one of your boobs or even both. A while ago he came up with the excuse that it was good for your heart or something, said that he read it somewhere. You knew it was total bull but you didn’t mind, enjoyed it even, so you let his explanation slide. Sometimes Matthew just lazily palmed them while you waited to fall asleep. Other times, like tonight, he would run his thumb over your nipple until it hardened and then played with it a little more.

You just let yourself relax back into his embrace and let him palm at your chest. As strange as it seemed, the soft repetitive motions put you at ease. Matthew meanwhile seemed to only get more excited, if his steadily hardening length against your butt was anything to go by. He didn’t try to hide his excitement, almost grinding it against your body to seek pleasure even. He knew that this was something you were comfortable with but you also knew that Matthew wouldn’t push past this point without you asking him to.

It took you longer to decide than usual. You always wanted Matthew, desperately, but could you get over your insecurities enough to allow yourself to be loved?

“Matthew?” You asked into the darkness, getting a hum in return. “I’ll keep my shirt on, okay?”

“Whatever you need.”

It took a second for you to detangle your limbs but once you managed to free yourself it was easy to roll over onto your front, hugging your pillow to your chest. Matthew was gentle as he peeled off your sweatpants. He couldn’t seem to help himself and gave your ass a spank as you tried to muffle a tired laugh in the pillow.

His body blanketed yours for a moment and you could feel the heat of him against your back as he spoke. “I’m gonna get a condom, okay? Don’t want to clean up any mess.”

As soon as you nodded you could feel Matthew move around on the bed behind you. He didn’t turn on any of the lamps though, rather choosing to fumble in the dark and bump a water bottle off his nightstand before finding what he was looking for. Finally he pulled open a drawer and took out a condom, the foil wrapper crinkling as he opened it, and soon enough Matthew was on you again, his warm weight pressing you into the mattress.

“What do you want, baby? My mouth? Fingers?” His voice already sounded so wrecked even though he hadn’t even properly touched you yet.

“Fingers please.” Matthew ate pussy like a man starved and you loved him for it but tonight it just wasn’t something you wanted from him.

He followed your request without asking, rough fingers finding your folds and running along the slit teasingly as soon as the words left your mouth. 

You hadn’t thought you’d be so desperate for him. Not so fast. Not during these days. But Matthew didn’t have to wait long at all before he could work the first finger into you.

“So wet for me already.” He chuckled and you couldn’t help but tighten around him at the words. “I barely even touched you.”

A moan left your lips and Matthew rewarded you with a second finger joining the one already in you. He was careful, more careful than you probably needed, but then he started toying with your clit while still fucking his long fingers inside you and the feeling became too much.

“Fuck me.” Was all that left your lips.

“Already?” Was his response. “I barely got to play with you.” The pout was audible in his voice but he complied with your request, carefully removing his fingers.

Matthew only has to change positions slightly and before you could even miss his fingers, his length started to fill you up. He didn’t make you wait, bottoming out and immediately pulling back. Every thrust pushed you further into the mattress while the pillow clutched to our chest muffled any moans. This was exactly what you needed. 

Matthew managed to hit that sweet spot in his next thrust and you stopped holding back, clenching around him, whining into the pillow, gripping the sheets hard enough for them to become untucked. There was something wild in the way he was taking you that one wouldn’t expect from it. The blanket you were under kept you warm but the feeling of Matthew’s body against your back was burning. Nothing but desire filled the darkness of your room as loud gasps left your lips, too similar to make out whether they were Matthew’s or yours.

It was so easy to get lost in the feeling of him, to let yourself be filled again and again and again. One of his hands tried to bully its way between your body and the bed, attempting to grab your chest again. The change of angle when you moved —not much but just enough— only made his thrusts hit so much better.

You allowed yourself to float in the feeling for a little until you felt yourself get closer and closer to your orgasm. What finally pushed you over the edge was Matthew reaching down to play with your clit instead of our chest. Rough fingers toyed with you once again as you fell apart below him, shaking.

It took a little for you to come back, too blissed out to recognize anything but your own pleasure. When you did Matthew laid heavy across your back and you realized he must have come as well. The only uncomfortable thing about the position you were in was his arm trapped between your body and the bed. He must have noticed your weird position because he gently pulled it out from beneath you. A kiss was pressed against your shoulder through the shirt after, a silent apology. Matthew stayed inside of you a little longer as the two of you started to come down together, his weight a warm constant against you. After a few more moments he gave you another kiss in the same spot and then pulled out, rolling over on his side to lay beside you again.

“Matthew?” It took all of your remaining energy to turn over and look at him even if the darkness prevented you from really seeing anything. You knew he was there, looking your way, and that was all that mattered. “Thank you.”

He just pulled you into his arms again, lips finding your face somewhere near your cheekbone. “Not for that. Never for that.”

When you woke up the next morning it was to an empty bed. Light was shining through the window and it didn’t take you long to figure out it hadn't been up for long. The apartment was completely silent, no sounds of Matthew able to be heard, but his side of the bed still retained some of its warmth so he couldn’t have been gone for long. You rolled over to grab your phone but the battery must have died during the night. Before you could plug it in to charge in order to text Matthew, the front door opened. You could hear him clattering around in the kitchen for a few minutes before the bedroom door opened, revealing your tousled looking boyfriend trying to carry a loaded tray through the door. 

“Morning.” He sat the tray onto the floor next to your side of the bed before disappearing again, leaving you alone with plates full of breakfast staples before coming back with a giant bouquet and an iced coffee in his hands. Matthew looked a little embarrassed as he sat them down, the coffee coming precariously close to the rim of the cup as he struggled to place the flowers on the floor next to the tray. “I didn’t know if we had any vases so I just bought the one they had the flowers in at the store.”

“What-”

He interrupted you before you could question him. Why breakfast? Why the flowers? What did I do to deserve your love?

“I got breakfast.” Matthew smiled, before climbing back into bed on your side, bony knees bumping against your legs as he climbed over your body. “We’ll eat and then we’ll spend the day in bed, yes?”

You picked up your coffee and snuggled back into your blankets. It would be a good day.

#matthew tkachuk #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #hockey smut #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk smut #...so this is twenty-five

[greazyfloz]

10 from the new smut prompt list with Matthew tkachuk, that’s so him lol

Smut: 10. “If you can’t sleep, and I can’t sleep… That obviously means we have to have sex, right?” w/ Matthew Tkachuk

Melatonin

It was a long day and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep. As soon as I got home I immediately went to the bedroom and got ready before practically throwing myself in the sheets. Although I was tired all day, somehow, I could not sleep.

Matthew was already in bed sleeping before I even got unto bed myself. I tossed and turned for a bit slowly trying not to wake him but to my surprise I hear him chuckle.

"You're awake?" I question him and he turns himself so he he is now laying on his side that faces me.

"Yeah" he says with a grin on his face

"no hello?" I question him

"I was trying to sleep, I see you are having some trouble too"

"Yeah" I say as we both lay on our sides in the bed looking at eachother.

"Well..." Matthew starts with a grin and I roll my eyes at his tone, knowing where this is going making him chuckle before continuing. "If you can't sleep, and I can't sleep... That obviously means we have to have sex, right?" he says leaning in closer.

I chuckle as he presses his lips against mine before deepening the kiss.

"you agree then?" he mumbles into the kiss as we make out.

"I do" I say with a chuckle as I pull away. I lift the T-shirt I am wearing over my head and throw it on the ground, as Matt shimmies out of his boxers throwing them so they lay on the ground beside my shirt leaving us both naked.

Without any hesitation, our lips meet again. His hand travels up my sides until it reaches my chest. He massages my chest as his mouth begins to trail kisses down my neck until his lip press against my nipple.

Matt flicks his tongue on my nipple and slightly nibbles with his teeth causing me to moan out quietly at the sensation I feel across my chest. He pulls away from my chest and faces me with a smirk. I connect my lips back onto his and we begin making out as his hand travels down my stomach until his fingers begin twirling around my clit.

I pull away from the kiss to bite my lip to cover any moan that wants to escape my mouth.

"You like how that feels?" Matthew smirks. I bite my lip and nod my head looking at him with big doe eyes. "What about this?" he asks me as he enters his middle and ring finger deep inside of me, making me throw my head back. I felt Matthew attach his lips on to my neck as I try to cover my moans, "Does this feel good baby?" he asks

"Y-yes" I moan out breathlessly as his fingers curl and uncurl fast and hard inside of me, "D-don't stop"

He stops curling his fingers than straightens them before pumping them in and out of me. I let out a moan before biting my lip to stop anymore for escaping my mouth.

"I want to hear you" he tells me

I feel him release his fingers from inside of me then grab my neck to guide my mouth to his. As me make out, Matthew positions himself between my legs as he strokes his cock. He slides his cock up and down my slit once before pulling away from the kiss to allow himself to slam full force inside of me.

"Matt! Baby! Fuck!" I moan out as he thrusts hard inside of me.

He continues thrusting hard and fast inside of me until both of us are out of breath. "I'm going to- I'm cumming" he says has he bucks his hips hard inside of me, "F-fuck!"

He releases himself inside of me before throwing himself on the bed beside me, "Fuck, I'm tired" he chuckles making me chuckle as well as I stand up from the bed and make my way to the bathroom to wash off.

When I re-enter the room I find Matthew fast asleep on the bed. I roll my eyes and chuckle before re entering the sheets beside him with hopes I fall asleep just as fast.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl writing #nhl fic #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl smut #matthew tkachuk smut #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk x reader

[leafs-lover]

Who should I write about?

I tallied the votes of round one and it's time for round 2 (also the final round) of you deciding who this story should be about. Below are the top eight vote receivers.

I made one minor tweak because as I worked on the story more the age of Crosby didn't work, sorry! I am planning on writing a short smutty blurb for him just to compensate everyone who voted for him though!

Quick fic summary:

Reader insert. Reader and player grew up together but an unlikely friendship (he was a jock and she was a socially awkward band member)

Smut, smut, and even more smut! (I may mix in a sliver of plot, but its basically all smut)

Player will be readers teacher, coaching her on everything in the bedroom 🥵

Could have multiple parts but they will all be stand-alone pieces. May also be months between them (I long ago gave up the idea of committing to writing schedules)

#Jeremy Swayman smut #auston matthews smut #brock boeser smut #mat barzal smut #joseph woll smut #adam fantilli smut #jack hughes smut #nathan mackinnon smut #matthew tkachuk smut

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

when my hands were caked with dirt at the foot of the grave, you loved me still; ask atrocity of me and see how i tremble with willingness at the sound of your voice.

mt19 x reader: everyone loves to be taken care of.

(warnings: blasphemous filth, oral sex/fingering (m on f, another exception!), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), kind of oral fixation (have you seen the state of that mouthguard), hair-pulling (bring back the curls), lots of praise and tension and all that nonsense, lots of talk about alcohol, also a lot of emotions! (be warned about those damn emotions! this one has a similar vibe to my qh43 og snakes one, i think), idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(long a/n: my favorites - when i tell you i got carried away (again).  but how could i not, when mt19 could not even play in the final cup game because he broke the bone that protects his heart?  when poetry like that calls, you have to answer.  the playoffs inspired me, mt19 inspired me, enough that i created this fictionalized mt19 character that is basically a bunch of insecurities personified.  and the other character is just more of those in bartender form (i loved my bartending years! but they gave me a lot to think about!).  so, sorry.  this one’s a little sad, sometimes.  but you guys seem to like the sad shit, so i hope you like this.  apologies if i get caught up in the theatrics, at times.  we haven’t done a takeaway in a while, so here’s one - you deserve to be chosen and loved and taken care of because you’re you, not just because you’re around.  on a less serious note, can you tell how infatuated i am with mt19′s tooth gap?  yeah, i know, i made it too obvious, i need to relax.  i got a couple okays on the princess name, so if you don’t like it, you should have said something.  am34 is up next, i’m thinking some classic older brother’s best friend, we’ll see if the muses are kind to me.  please let me know what you think, i think i’ve made it obvious that your interaction means everything.  also you guys literally should have seen me trying to figure out the physics of fucking against a barstool, it was legitimately ridiculous.  gif is not mine.  sending so so so much love to you and your snakes.  go canucks.  see you soon.  be your own first choice.

meeting new people simply came with the job of bartending.  new faces filtered in and out of your bar like wisps of fragrant smoke, most of the time too fleeting to truly remember, never mind get to know.

however, the first day he entered your bar, a peculiar feeling hovered around you: the feeling that you already knew him, deeply and personally.

of course, you recognized him and his small group of teammates from the games that constantly played on the screens above the bar, but this was different. you couldn’t quite place the reason behind the feeling, not yet.

he didn’t approach the counter right away, but it was a saturday night, a busy one, so you were constantly being pulled from one patron to another, barely noticing the passage of time as your hands seemed to never stop moving.

but at some point, there he was, sitting at one of your stools, looking at you like he had all the time in the world, a confident, just bordering on arrogant smirk slanting across his face.  you didn’t have the presence of mind or time to appreciate the rest of him, not right now.

but you were paid to treat all customers the same.  and at the end of the day, that’s what he was, at least then.  just another customer on a busy, hectic night.

“what can i get you?” you asked as you mixed a drink for the party at the other end of the counter.  your voice was steady, knowing, friendly, but only just.  

his smirk deepened as he leaned forward.  “all business for the princess, hm?”

your brow furrowed in confusion before you realized where the name had come from.  you absentmindedly adjusted the plastic tiara a birthday party had given you earlier that night - the group of girls around your age had gushed about how delicious their drinks were, how you had made their night, how you just had to have it, how it would look so pretty with your hair.

they were sweet, and they tipped well, so you didn’t push the birthday girl’s hands away when she slid the crown from her head and onto yours, even smiling a bit at the gesture.  it was hard not to smile at women being girls again, and you loved the opportunity to be apart of it.

“princess is my side hustle,” you said to him now, keeping your tone even as you poured the colorful drink you were mixing into two glasses. 

he made a face that you couldn’t decipher before leaning on one of his hands.  “well, listen,” he started, to which you raised a brow.  you didn’t like being told to listen - you just did, it was something you were good at, and being told to made you not want to anymore.  he nodded to the group he came in with.  “my friends over there bet that i couldn’t get your number.  want to help me prove them wrong?”

you turned to drop off the drinks before running his words over in your mind.  you were hit on all the time, another part of the job.  people were attracted to being taken care of, and it was your job to take care of them, which always led to some misunderstandings, some one-sided crushes, some regulars that tipped much more than they needed to.

but something in your stomach dropped at his wording.  you didn’t like it, not at all.

“did they?” you asked, actually focusing on his face for the first time that night as you ran a rag over the counter.  his eyes were blue, so, so, blue, and almost comically confident, unwavering.  as was his smirk, his full lips so perfectly placed and practiced, not quite like a natural habit but more like a learned one.  

and then there was the brutal cut of his jawline, only made more prominent by his scruff of facial hair.  the way his hair curled over the tops of his ears, a youthful but not juvenile look.  his long lashes, elegant nose, flushed complexion, it was a little too perfect, at least for you, right now.

all of his features together appeared more like a masquerade ball mask, not a real, genuine face.  it was off-putting, this actor in front of you, the one you had seen on television so many times.

he hummed in affirmation, smirked deeper. 

you sighed.  “that’s too bad,” you said, to which he gave you what looked like his first genuine expression of the night - one of confusion.  “i only give my number to people who ask for it because they want it.”

you had long ago learned your lesson about being the person someone spent time with in order to please someone else.  it never ended well.

his brow furrowed in further disbelief, complete lack of understanding, maybe a bit of shock, but you only tossed the rag aside and grabbed a glass.  “now, how about a drink?”

he didn’t respond for a second, searching your face for something, maybe an explanation, less probably a spark of remorse.  you let him.  you weren’t going to budge on this, not tonight, not for him.

he shook out of it, literally, a small shake of his head before the mask was back on, in full strength.  “yeah, sure.  just an ipa, whatever you’ve got.”  he addressed you by the name on your name tag, an act you normally hated, but didn’t mind so much now, in his deep tone.

you gave a small grin as you filled a tall glass.  “thank god,” you started.  “after the million mixed drinks i’ve had, you might just be my favorite customer.”  you set the glass down on a paper napkin in front of him, only meaning to meet his eyes for a second.

once you did, though, you did a double take, now trapped in his gaze, completely transfixed on the pure hope you found there, so devastatingly poorly hidden.  this, this was genuine, no mask to be found.  the innocent hope lit up his eyes, his face from within, exposing an almost childlike expression that had you so deeply intrigued.

“yeah?” he asked, his voice no longer oozing with arrogance but instead with something you knew well.  unbridled wanting.  hope, hope, hope.  he might as well have the word please scrawled all over his face in thick marker.

you felt your lips curl up at this new discovery, this crack in his exterior that gave you a sense of deja vu.  “yeah, matthew,” you said, a little slowly, letting the rest of the bar melt away for a second.

this moment felt hot, sticky, like you were both suspended in amber, neither willing to be the first to break eye contact.  

but moments don’t last forever, and suddenly one of his friends was slapping him on the shoulder, saying something loudly about taking too long.  you weren’t really listening as you watched his face again harden into that confident expression.

he ordered a round for his friends, and the moment was gone, lost in the neon light, and you were soon pulled again to another patron, the chaotic rhythm of saturday night overtaking you again.

you didn’t see him for the rest of night, caught up in your work.  towards the end of your shift, though, you happened to look up, towards the door, urged by some magnetic force, and found his gaze awaiting yours right before he walked out of the door.

a real face, a real look, unveiled and vulnerable, swimming with heat and hope and a million other dangerous things.  an expression so true that you had to look away from it’s veracity, complete candor.  when you looked up again, he was gone, and you assumed that would be the last time you saw him.  

so, a couple nights later, deep into your shift, you almost dropped the glass in your hand when you turned and found him sitting on that same stool at your counter, looking up at you expectantly with those storybook eyes.  

“matthew,” you said, softly in greeting, almost a question, confused at his presence, especially on a weeknight, without his teammates.  alone, seemingly.

“princess,” he responded, an imperfect smirk playing across his mouth, revealing more teeth than he had the previous night - enough that you could see the gap between his two front, a little detail so beautiful you might have sighed. 

“no crown tonight,” you responded, half smiling.  

“it was never the crown,” he said, to which you gave a slight shake of your head.  it didn’t hide your shy delight.

“where are your friends?” you prompted, slightly suspicious.  

something that looked like hurt flashed ever so briefly across his eyes.  “they’ll be here, princess, don’t worry.”

you shrugged.  “wasn’t worried.  just wondering why you’re here alone.”

your last word seemed to strip him entirely, lay him bare in front of you, completely vulnerable.  you regretted it immediately, felt almost mean.

“but i guess you’re not alone, right?  you’re here with me?”  you gave him a smile, tried to will one out of him, too, half-succeeded.  “ipa?” you asked, eager to bring this interaction back within the boundaries you were familiar with, ones you could control.

“whatever you’ll give me,” was his odd reply, one that had you scrunch up your face instead of reaching for a glass.  “ipa works.”

your voice was laced with confusion.  “i know it works.  what do you want, though?”

again there was that child-like look in his eyes, veiled by a thin film of doubt, uncertainty.

and somehow you thought you knew what might have been holding him back.  you shifted forward, leaned on your elbows, closer than you had been to him before.  “what if i promise you’ll still be my favorite, hm?  will you tell me then?”

you watched his gaze dip down to your mouth as you spoke, linger there before meeting your eyes again.  not like you minded, much as you wanted.  a spark of warning fired in your stomach.  don’t get too close, it mumbled, you can’t fill anyone’s void.

unfortunately, it was hard to deny the utter satisfaction you felt when he looked at you like this - like you had wiped away all the bad things in the world.

but then hands landed on his shoulders, loud greetings between friends exchanged, ripping you both out of the moment.

“now i know why chucky wanted to come back here,” one of them said eventually, looking at you with a gleam in his eye you didn’t quite like.  “i remember you, beautiful.”

“shame,” you said, “i don’t remember you.”

he put a hand over his heart like he’d been hurt, but his smirk was brutally arrogant, almost animalistic.  “how about we make sure you don’t forget my name again, yeah?”

you rolled your eyes.  “matthew, come get your dog,” you said as you grabbed a couple more glasses and began to pour the same drinks they had ordered the other night.

“you want me to start barking?  ‘cause i will,” the persistent teammate pushed before turning to his side.  “but it seems like you’re the one she’s got on a leash, matthew.”

you watched his face carefully as you slid the drinks their way, interested to see what would win out - the desire to maintain his mask around his friends or whatever was building between you two.

you bit your lip as you watched the internal struggle play out across his face, shooting a pleading look your way for a millisecond.

you decided to throw him a bone, put his friends in their place.  “i meant to tell you.  i put your game on yesterday,” you said to him.  

“did you?” he asked, so blissfully hopeful.

“yeah,” you said, leaning forward again, letting yourself get a truly greedy look at him.  “but i like you better in person.”

you reveled in how desperately pleased he looked by your admission.  

“we were playing too, you know,” someone said, half laughing.

“were you?” you asked, a theatrically confused expression on your face.  you shrugged.  “don’t think i saw you.  maybe i was distracted.”

one of his friends laughed.  “don’t feed him, beautiful, he’ll just keep coming back.”

but you didn’t even look at whoever said the comment, instead completely locked in on matthew, and he on you.  

“god, i hope so,” you said, barely more than a whisper, only meant for him.

just something you said, a true thing, and yet he did.  every couple of days you would look up and there he would be, on that stool at your counter, looking up at you.  sometimes his friends would come, and sometimes they wouldn’t, and on nights he was playing you would always put the game on the television where you could best see it, so you could best see him.

and despite everything he did, everything he said to you, which screamed longing and interest and want, you were surprised every time he came back.  surprised that his interest in you didn’t wear off after the first couple indulgences, like it seemed to with everyone else.

but, then again, matthew struck you as the kind of person who could make a home out of anything, anyone - like the kids who would cry if someone tried to come into their treehouse, as if the magic of the place was defined by it being all for them.  

sometimes this job made you feel like a building with a revolving door, so many faces fading immediately as they came into your life.  it felt so good to have whatever this was, this constant, even if that warning voice tried to convince you it wasn’t real, it wouldn’t last.

one night, when you put his away game on, he was picking fights, antagonizing the other team, all the while chewing on that abused mouthguard, which never failed to catch your attention, send a little shiver down your spine, make you wonder what those teeth would feel like on your bottom lip, your fingers, your neck.

this night, though, the officials had had enough, and handed him a game misconduct.  he skated off the ice, into the tunnel, chants and boos echoing through the arena so loudly that even the television cameras caught their strength.  

still, when the camera focused in on matthew’s face, there was nothing but that cocky, knowing smirk, that one that he had showed you the first day.  that fake one.  you narrowed your eyes at the tv, felt your stomach turn at the fact that he could be two people at once.  how could you ever trust him that way?  how could you ever believe that he really, truly, wanted you?  that warning voice compressed into a lump that settled in your stomach.

the lump was still there that next night, and so was he, there in his usual spot, right before you were about to close.  “missed you, princess,” he said, those blue eyes so full of meaning.  

and you hated how those words meant so much to you.  “yeah?” you asked, wiping down the counter.  “what’d you miss?”

you expected the answer that so many people in your life had given you before: how they liked how you made them feel, how you paid attention to them.  nothing about you, rather something that said more about them.  

so you were stunned when his gaze dropped to you lips and stayed there.  “think i started to dream about your smile,” he said, and you may have sighed, just a little, as you felt your cheeks flush.

“did you watch me?” he asked, that spark of hope lighting up his face in a silent plea.  

you nodded slowly, remembering the game.  “wish you had stayed on the ice longer.”

he shrugged, the motion emphasizing the muscles in his shoulders and neck.  you pretended not to notice.

“why do you smile when they hate you?” you asked, your head tilted in genuine curiosity, recalling his face as he made his way down the tunnel.  

there was that mask again.  “i love it.”

“you don’t,” you said, shaking your head slightly, watched him swallow.

“what?” he asked.  you could have imagined the smallest shake in his voice.

“you don’t.  you do that other smile you do.”  you didn’t tell him your theory, that you knew if a crowd booed loud enough, maybe he could close his eyes and pretend they were cheering, instead.  pretend it was love.

he made a sound that was half-laugh, half-scoff.  “what other smile?”

you bit your lip, unsure how to explain it.  you reached your hands forward, paused for a moment as his eyes widened, so flooded with want.  that beautiful second of expectation before a first touch, the first of what you inherently knew would be many.

“like-” you put your hands on his face, ever so lightly, moved his lips until that cocky smirk was opposite you.  “like this.”

“like this, princess?” he asked through your fingers, his breath on your palms, and heat thrummed in your stomach.  

you nodded slowly, reluctant to take your hands off of him.  “and my favorite one is like this,” you said, moving his lips again until you were satisfied with the replica smile you had created, toothy and wide and beautiful - until you realized he was smiling at you like that anyways, without any manipulation.

you grinned back at him, melted at the simmering heat and longing in his eyes.  before you could question it, you let yourself tap one finger to his front teeth, feeling the gap there, that imperfect feature you had most loved when you first saw it, felt your throat tighten at the way he was looked at you, the way he let his mouth just barely close around your finger.

a feather light motion that made your next breath come out shaky before drawing yourself away.  you hadn’t realized just how close you had drifted towards him, even with the counter between you.

you glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised to see it much later than you expected.  “i need to close,” you said, clearing your throat.  “i need to count the register.”

“okay.”  he looked dazed.  maybe in a cartoon there would have been pink mist or little hearts floating around his head.  

you tried to collect yourself, ignore the phantom of his lips around your finger, a ghost of a kiss, a promise, a plea.

you gave a shake of your head.  “i need to sit there.  the register unlocks from that side, in front of your chair.”

your stomach dropped at the sudden darkness his eyes took on, so much so that you knew you would give in to whatever he said next.  

instead of getting up, he pushed his hips up and back, spread his legs apart, settling deeper into the seat.  “seat’s open, princess,” he said, and the confidence in his voice, all over his face, it wasn’t fake, it wasn’t a mask.

it was real, genuine, set ablaze by your touch.

you looked around.  you were closed, everyone was gone on this monday night, except the owner, a lady older than sin who was mopping in the corner, and who was known for minding her own business.

there was nobody to judge you there, nobody to punish you for giving into this, exactly what you wanted.

time felt like jelly as you made your way around the counter, paused for a beat in front of him before he helped you up onto his lap by your waist, faced you towards the register drawer, let his arms rest around your middle.

“this okay?” he asked softly, his breathy rasp warm on your neck.

you breathed out a yes, slightly overwhelmed by all of this touch at once.  his chest behind you, radiating heat, his thighs firm below you, thick arms around you.  here he was, everywhere, all at the same time, and after only interacting with a counter between you, this felt almost absurdly perfect, forbidden.

so perfect that it took every semblance of your concentration to unlock the register drawer, to push the rise and fall of his chest to the back of your mind, to ignore how your own body seemed to melt into his, relax completely, an utterly miraculous contrast to the stiff, constantly active way you usually were at work.

“still okay?” he asked as he rested his head on your shoulder.  you could feel his facial hair through your thin shirt, smell his cologne, knew you would smell like it, too.  his thighs flexed underneath you, and you could have moaned.  you were having trouble focusing on counting, never mind answering his question.  

he rumbled with a laugh you felt more than heard.  “princess?”

“still okay,” you managed, “but you have to be still.  i need to count.”  

you felt him nod and smile into your shoulder as you got to counting, the rhythm of the bills eventually lining up with the rhythm of his breathing against your back, so peaceful and right that maybe, eventually, you both would have fallen asleep like this.  

“finished,” you whispered when you were done, organizing everything back where it needed to go, soaking up the last few moments of his touch for that night.  

“already?” he asked, although it had probably been half an hour.  

you hummed, pushed yourself up and off of him, even as his hands continued to reach for you, his gaze hungry.  

so hungry it scared you.  you still didn’t quite know if he just wanted someone, or if he wanted you, if he would have acted this way for anyone who asked the right questions, gave him the attention he craved, saw through his mask.  

hungry, hungry, hungry, and what scared you most was that you knew that you weren’t hungry for just anyone.  only for him.  and that question of reciprocation, it was like injecting ice into your blood.

“it’s late,” you said.  “you have to go.”

if he was hurt, he didn’t show it, seemingly completely fine with taking things however slowly you wanted to.  “okay,” he said.  “may i have your number, please?”  there was your favorite smile.

you smiled, despite yourself.  “why?”

maybe it was the late hour that caused him to misspeak when he said, “because i want you.”  he quickly realized his mistake and flushed, only just.  “it!” he corrected, looking like a kid with chocolate he wasn’t supposed to eat schmeared all over his face.  “i meant i want it.”

you fluttered at his mix-up, delighted that maybe he meant what he said.  enough that this time, you didn’t deny his request.

it was a while before you saw him again in person, as he had back to back games and then several away contests before coming home again.  but, like always, you put him on the screen by the bar, feeling yourself warm every time the camera caught his face.

one night, a late night, a couple hours after one of his games had ended, you looked up and you saw him at the doorway.

a bad feeling immediately bloomed inside you.

it had been a tough loss, close until the end, and one of his stupid penalties had forced a power play goal in overtime for the opponent.  worse, this result had been crucial for their playoff bid.  it wasn’t looking good. 

you had not expected to see him tonight - he usually didn’t come by on game nights, only on nights off.  and he didn’t look right as he stood under the neon signs at the door, he looked off.  he looked drunk.

his speech was slow and slurred, making you cringe.  after a couple of years at this job, oh, how you hated drunk people.  oh, how you never wanted to see him like this, so at the mercy of something as truly stupid as alcohol.

and even more so, how you hated to see him drink himself stupid, how you wanted to make everything all better.  you signaled for the bar-back to cover for a moment.

you walked around the counter and approached him.  “matthew,” you began, “what’s going on?”  you tentatively touched his forearm before grabbing one of his hands, wrapping it in both of yours, bitterly aware that he was not present as you were.

“oh, princess,” he said, stumbling just a bit into your grip as you pulled him outside.  he mumbled something you couldn’t hear before laughing, but the laugh was cruel, devastated.

when you were outside, the only audience was the small group of smokers that always hung around the front of the bar.  you took his face in your hands.  “tell me what happened.”

“what happened?” he said slowly.  “what happened?” he repeated, maybe asking himself.  “ruined it, always ruin it, ruin everything.”  his voice came out like a haunted childlike sing-song.  it made your heart shatter.

you looked in his eyes, still holding his face.  “you do not ruin everything, okay?  you just need to go home and sleep this off.”

“princess, princess, always tryna’ make me feel better,” he slurred, letting the whole weight of his head rest in your hands, your fingertips touching the wisps that curled around his ears.  he stumbled forward into you.  “need to kiss you, yeah?  make me feel better.”

you dropped your hands from his cheeks as if you had been scalded.  if your heart wasn’t broken before, it was now, as you pushed his chest away while he leaned forward.  you felt tears begin to prickle on your waterline.  

of course, he wanted you now, when he was begging to be taken care of, when he was outwardly desperate to be reassured, when his vision was probably so impaired that he couldn’t really even see your face.  

of course he wanted you now, when you could have been anyone.

“one of our cabs will take you home,” you said, trying to hide the wobble in your voice as you waved one over, barely able to look at him.  

he pouted.  “what?” he said, teasing, but there was a bite to his tone.  “don’t like me like this?  not your favorite anymore?”

you didn’t have the energy to scoff.  “don’t be mean.  sober up.  goodnight.”  you opened the car door for him, forced him down into the seat.

“don’t you want to kiss me?” he pressed, looked up at you, like he had before so many times from his barstool.  like he had so many times, when it had been different.

oh, how they love to be taken care of.  and look at you, taking care of them.  desperate, foolish girl.

and even now, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie, to say no.  “ask me when you’re not out of your mind.”  you shut the car door and turned away, wiped your eyes with your sleeves quickly and methodically before taking a breath and getting back to the bar, to your job.

but you were a shell of yourself for the rest of the night, his words repeating over and over again in your mind.  make me feel better.

so you blocked his number that you had just added, sighed of relief when one of your colleagues mentioned his team was headed away for a long stretch on the road.  a week and a half without him.  surely, completely isolated from him, you could forget about what happened.

and you half-believed that, until you came into work that next day and realized you would not be completely isolated from him at all.

right next to his stool there sat a bouquet of flowers and a red jersey, folded up.  you already knew what name was on the back.  you stood still at the entrance, reluctant to approach the offering.

“left it earlier,” the owner called from across the room, sweeping.  “i told ‘m to fuck off, but he wouldn’t.”

“thanks anyways,” you said.  

“i asked him why not,” she continued, the barest hint of a smile on her thin lips.  

you furrowed your brow, confused. 

“asked why he wouldn’t fuck off,” she said, “took him a second.”

you breathed out a laugh.  

“said you didn’t know how much he cared, yet.  and he needed you to know.”

you swallowed.  “that’s nice of him,” you said, running the words over in your mind.

“not everyone deserves your second chances,” she said.  “but i don’t let just anyone in our bar before we open.”

the words settled between you like diamond dust.  the owner finished sweeping and left.

you approached the gift, found a note sitting on top of it in terrible handwriting.

i’m sorry, it read, i’m back next thursday.  i’ll ask you then.  you wondered briefly what he was going to ask you before you recalled what he had said to you that night when you put him in a car.  your inability to fully turn him away.

you took a shaky breath as you read the last line of the note.

even if i’m not your favorite, you’re still mine.

your stomach fluttered, surprising you.  so simple, and yet those words meant everything to you.  that even when he got nothing from you, he wanted you still.

you hoped and hoped and hoped he meant it, and you believed it enough that you put the flowers in a vase and wore the jersey for each of his game days.

thursday came faster than you thought it would, probably because of how nervous you were.  in this time apart, anything could be true.  he could mean what he said, he could want you and only you, you could be counting down the minutes until finally kissing him, touching him how you so desired.

deep down, you were so deeply afraid that when he showed up, if he even showed up, that dreamy facade would be broken, and instead all of your greatest worries and insecurities would be realized.  

throughout your whole thursday night shift, you were jittery, versions of how tonight could play out flashing through your mind.  

the entire night flew by, until eventually it was time to close, and you tried to ignore your heart sinking.  maybe this version of tonight, the one with you alone, maybe this one was for the best.

you counted the register, began to mop, waved goodnight to the owner as she left for the night and reminded you to lock up.  

you did your final wipe-down of the counter, feeling the devastation begin to finally set in.  you scrunched up your face, told yourself you wouldn’t cry on your bar top.

“princess.”

you looked up, and there he was, draped in neon light, and for a second it looked like sunlight streaming in through church stained-glass windows.

the sentiment didn’t seem altogether different.  how many prayers had been answered at this bar?  how many homemade temples had been elicited?  how many haphazard gods?

“didn’t think you were coming,” you said as he made his way over to you, sat down on his stool, exactly the same dynamic as that first day, but there was no one else.  only you and him.

“it’s my fault you ever had a doubt,” he said, looking up at you with those blue, blue eyes, an ocean of apology.

you nodded, tossed the rag aside, rested your forearms on the counter and looked at him, eye to eye, and waited for him to say something.

“i’m sorry,” he said simply, and there was no mask to be found, only genuine regret.  “i’m sorry i showed up here the way i did, i’m sorry i embarrassed you at work, i’m sorry i made you feel like just another person.”

you felt your heart stitching itself back together, however painful the process.  he gently took your hands in his, warm and rough and firm.  “you’re not just another person, okay, princess?”  his voice was rough. 

your exhale was choppy, so forced you had to close your eyes for a second.  how long had you waited to hear somebody say that to you?

“you didn’t embarrass me,” you whispered.  “i could never be ashamed of you.”

he gave the smallest laugh, shook his head.  “even now, that’s what you focus on.  how i’m feeling.”

“only because i care about how you’re feeling,” you said, almost defensive.

“you gonna let me care about how you’re feeling?” he asked, his thumbs tracing circles on your palms.  

you stayed quiet, bit your lip, searched his eyes for an trace of doubt, falseness, didn’t find any.  only a slowly simmering flame, drowning in want.

“you’re too far away,” you whispered.

“i’ve always resented this counter,” he said with a hint of a smile. 

you gave a small smile back as you walked around the bar top, finally stood in front of him, exhaled before sitting down on top of him, your legs straddling his hips, your faces only a breath apart.  you clasped your arms around his neck, leaned forward into his chest as his hands settled on your hips.

“ask me,” you all but begged.

his voice was a low rasp, his gaze syrupy with lust.  “don’t you want to kiss me?”

you nodded, and he smiled, and then you were leaning forward, finally capturing his lips in a kiss that felt like neon light and television static and a million pleases, all finally answered with of course, anything for you.

you let yourself melt into his chest, tangled a hand in his curls, felt his grip tighten on the flesh at your hips.

he smiled into your mouth when you ran your tongue along the gap between his front teeth, groaned when you began to move your hips back and forth across his lap.  

you tugged at the curls at the nape of his neck as you felt him grow harder beneath you, to which he bit down ever so lightly on your bottom lip, the feeling even better than what you had imagined all those times you had watched him gnaw on his mouthguard.

he used his grip to set your hips into a rhythm as you ground down on his lap.

“want to taste you so bad, princess,” he breathed into your mouth.  “let me take care of you, yeah?  just want to make you feel good.”

you nodded feverishly, tugged at your clothes as he lifted you off of his lap and rested you back onto the counter.

laid bare for him, you become aware of how wet you already were, perhaps the result of all the waiting, the questioning, the wanting that had existed between you both since the beginning.

he groaned at the sight of you.  “fuck,” he rasped, “so wet already, hm?”  he ran a finger through your folds, brought it to his mouth and sucked.  “who’s this for, princess?”

“for you,” you whimpered, so eager for him to touch you how you wanted.  “for you, matthew.”

“all for me.”  you could hear the satisfaction in his voice before he leaned forward and began to tease you with his tongue, forced a choked moan from your throat.  

one of your hands braced the counter for stability while the other shot forward of its own volition, grasping a handful of his curls, making him grunt.  the noise vibrated through you.

“fuck,” you bit out, overwhelmed.  he pressed his tongue flat against your clit, making your hips push up into him and your grip on his hair tighten.  “fuck, you’re good at that.”

you felt his smile as he pushed two fingers inside of you, began to move them in and out slowly while continuing to tongue your clit.

you moaned loudly as your eyes rolled back, the combination of sensations making it hard to control your breathing, stop your back from arching up off the counter.  

he brought his other hand to your stomach and pressed down, cementing your hips down into the bar top, intensifying every shock of pleasure, immediately bringing you impossibly close.  “fuck, i can’t,” you whimpered, your hand grasping for sheets that weren’t there.  “can’t, shit, so close-”

he lifted his head up, thumbed your clit while curling his fingers slightly inside of you.  “gonna cum for me?” he cooed.

you nodded, eyes scrunched shut.

“cum, then, princess,” he pressed.  “make a mess for me, hm?”

that building wave finally crashed over you, and you gave him exactly what he wanted, reveled in the fact that you could.  

you caught your breath, let out a weak exhale, opened your eyes when you felt him press a light kiss against your hip, on the side of your ribs, up to your collarbone, finally on your lips.

pressed against you, you could feel every inch of him, so hard, immediately making you hungry for him again.  “more,” you pleaded simply.

“yeah?” he rasped against your lips.  “want more of me?”

you palmed his cock in reply, making him hiss, helped him move his clothes aside.  “need to feel you inside me.”

he shifted you off of the counter and against his stool, which you immediately bent over and rested your forearms on.

he groaned, pumped his cock once, twice.  “tell me this is okay, princess.”

you nodded.  “please fuck me, matthew.”

he did as told, pushing inside you entirely, barely giving you any time to adjust before he set a brutal pace, practically splitting you in half.

“holy fuck,” he choked out as you stretched around him.  “shit, you’re so perfect for me.  bein’ so good, princess, stretching for me so well.”

you moaned as you began to adjust to his size, every part of you still so sensitive from your last orgasm.

he built up his rhythm, forceful and deep but never so much that it hurt, only a pleasant pressure that began to build inside of you.

“so deep,” you whined, your voice muffled by your own arm, “fuck, feels so good.”

he grunted in time with a slow thrust in response, making your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation.

“want to see you,” he rasped, hooking one hand around your thigh and flipping you around before pushing back into you, so that now your back was against the stool, your front facing him, one knee bent.  he groaned when your eyes met.  “fuck, like that.”

you reached one arm up to his shoulder for support, rested the other one back against the stool.  your thighs began to shake from the stimulation, making you clench down on him harder, urging another deep moan from him.  

time disappeared as the rhythm of you both continued, so lost in the feeling of him and his noises, so perfect and better than anything you had imagined.

at one point, he brought one of his hands to your clit, began to tease you again with his thumb, while the other hand braced the back of your neck.

“hm, look, princess,” he said, his voice rough with wear, as he forced your gaze down to where your bodies met.  “watch me fuck you, yeah?”

you whimpered at his crudeness, couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight in front of you, his cock thrusting into you, his hands willing you to the edge again.

he let out a choked laugh.  “oh, you like that, hm?  feel you close.”

“fuck, i’m so close, matthew,” you whimpered, feeling your legs give out.

“‘s okay, princess, ‘m there too,” he mumbled, his motions becoming less controlled.  “cum with me, yeah?  want to feel you cream on my cock.”

you did as he asked, spurred on by his words, the overstimulation.  you felt him reach his high with a groan, warm inside of you, his body collapsing against yours.

you held each other close for several long moments, the only noise between you satisfied breaths and shallow heartbeats.  the air was warm, so peaceful, and you bit back a smile at how this bar was now forever changed - this peace would never leave.

you felt his facial hair scratch gently against your shoulder as his head rested there, so content to simply have you close.  

it could have been a lifetime.  it was probably a minute or two.

he was the first to speak.  “so,” he said, drowsy and sweet, “you guys still open?  how’re my chances of getting a captain and coke?”

you smiled.  how far you had come from the man with the mask asking for anything, maybe an ipa.

if please had been written all over him before, x’s and o’s were now, in pastel pink.

“anything for my favorite,” you said, and he kissed just under your ear.

fin.

#nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #nhl smut #hockey smut #matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk smut #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk imagine #florida panthers #stanley cup finals #jack hughes #jack hughes smut #quinn hughes #quinn hughes smut #trevor zegras #trevor zegras smut #calgary flames #leon draisaitl #sidney crosby smut

[sc0tters]

Flights and Fights | Matthew Tkachuk

summary: after a week of radio silence Matthew wants to show you how much he missed you.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, oral (fem receiving), p in v, swearing.

word count: 1.94k

author note: okay so soft couple sex is officially not my thing. But this was actually sort of cute. Let’s keep Matty requests to a minimum though until he learns how to use his mouthguard 🫶

This week was rough on the both of you.

It was stupid but after the fight you two had just before his week long road trip started. Usually you two would have communicated during his time away but you were both stubborn and swore that the other was wrong. You had a business trip to Kenya coming up in July and wanted your boyfriend to come with you. But Matthew wanted to stay home and spend that week at his families lake house, when neither one of you backed down it caused the biggest fight of your three year relationship to come out with Matthew walking out of the front door and he hasn’t been home since.

You were both far too stubborn to call once during the week so you were stuck in radio silence until he got home.

The apartment was quiet was the soft sounds of Taylor Swift came from the kitchen. Matthew dropped his bags by the door as his feet took him to noise where he was met with the sight of you swaying your hips along to the music.

A total sight for sore eyes as your back continued to face him as you wore his old shirt that looked like it should have been a dress.

He leaned against the doorframe taking in the view before he made his way in smiling to himself “hey baby.” Matthew mumbled wrapping his hands around your waist.

You kept quiet as you continued to focus on your lunch that you were cooking “please acknowledge me.” He whined leaning down to kiss your neck but you stopped him as you picked your shoulder up pressing it against your neck.

It began to frustrate the boy as he furrowed his eyebrows “I’m cooking Matty.” You reminded him in an irritated tone.

You were trying to put up a strong suit and that worked until Matthew placed his hand on your chin forcing it up as you stared at him. The hockey player leaned down to kiss your lips quickly forcing you to forget about why you were still irritated with him “Matty.” This time it came out airy like a needy moan.

The hockey player didn’t waste any time bringing you onto the empty space on the kitchen counter as you now faced him “missed you baby.” Matthew mumbled as he kissed your lips again with his hand on the back of your neck.

He smiled seeing your shirt as it was his old USA camp shirt from years ago “you look so fucking pretty.” The boy blurted out as he dropped to his knees lifting the shirt up to see your bare pussy staring back at him “no panties?” Matthew smirked as your face turned red.

You nodded watching with anticipation as the boy blew his warm breath against your core “you know I don’t like sleeping with them.” Your voice was shaky as he nodded wrapping his lips around your clit “shit Matty!” You groaned locking your fingers in his hair.

If there was one thing Matthew was good at it was using his tongue to get you off “please M,” you began bringing your hips up to meet his tongue “you liking this baby?” He asked smiling as your eyes locked with his “s-so much.” You nodded trying to force your thighs shut but the boy took it as a challenge wrapping his arms around your legs as he forced you closer to him.

His tongue trailed down to your core sliding in as you cried out in pleasure “don’t stop.” The smell of your burning food didn’t seem to phase either of you as you two sat there with his main objective being to get you off.

Matthew’s noise hit your clit making you jump “is my pretty baby gonna come?” The hockey player smirked replacing his tongue with his fingers as you nodded “please Matty,” you forced his head back down.

The boy focused his attempt on your clit as his fingers formed a come here motion thrusting into you “I’m going come fuck.” You announced legs shaking as they wrapped around his head almost squeezing the life out of his head.

His free hand tapped your thigh motioning to you that he wanted you to let go. Your orgasm came thick and fast as your eyes screwed shut painting your eyelids with white stars as your body shook when Matthew didn’t let his tongue slow down on your clit “Matty no,” you shook your head trying to force his face up to meet yours.

Deciding to go easy on you Matthew listener bringing himself onto his feet “so sweet.” He groaned shoving his fingers into your mouth so that you could taste what he was talking about “see?” Matthew asked as you wrapped your lips around his fingers sucking them like it could have been his cock in your mouth instead.

The hockey player felt his pants grow tight as his cock hardened “think we should move this to the bedroom?” Matthew proposed as he slipped his fingers out of your mouth.

Before you could nod the smell of burning food invaded your nostrils “the food!” You gasped pushed the boy away as you got off of the counter quickly pushing your attention to your pan of food that was now fully burnt.

It made Matthew groan “you can’t save it now baby.” He pointed out moving the pot away from the live hob before he turned the stove off.

For some reason your lips formed a frown as you looked up to your boyfriend “but I made it for you.” You mumbled breaking his heart in the process “we can make something new?” He proposed before he realised that you had made his favourite dish for lunch “c’mere.” Matthews voice was soft as he wrapped his arms around you pulling you into a hug.

You looked up to see his face full of concern as you smiled “I love you,” you blurted out leaning up to peck his lips.

The action was repeated two more times before he gave you a deeper kiss “I love you too,” as your feet went flat on the ground you realised that his bulge was against your stomach “let’s move this to the bedroom.” You nodded watching him cock his head “you sure?” He asked thinking that your sadden state sort of ruined the vibe.

You leaned up again as you placed your hands on either side of his bed “take me to bed and fuck me like you missed me Matty.” You ordered kissing his lips.

Matthew took less than a second as he picked you up hooking his hands under your legs “fuck baby.” He groaned as you moved your lips to his neck as you began nipping at the area of skin.

The boy smiled as you looked back up at him as you formed your lips into a kissy motion as he walked you two back into your room “miss me baby?” Matthew smirked as you nodded making him listen to your request before he placed you onto the bed “I think you missed me more.” You motioned to his bulge that was now eye level with you.

He took his jacket off throwing it somewhere in the room as the boy began undoing the buttons of his white shirt “can’t blame me for that.” Matthew smiled as he hooked his fingers under your jaw “looking so pretty like that,” he added as your eyes took in the sight of his abs “you like what you see?” The boy asked as you nodded.

Your fingers ran over his belt undoing it in the process “I’m not gonna last long baby and I wanna come inside of you.” Matthew confessed as your fingers hooked into his boxers pulling both down as he kicked his shoes off with both pieces of clothing “now it’s not fair that you are still in clothes is it?” The hockey player asked leaning down in between your legs as his nose hovered over yours.

A smile formed on your lips “what are you going to do about it then?” Shivers were sent up your body as his cold fingers drove up your stomach bringing your shirt off of your head in one movement.

It didn’t take long for Matthew to bring your body further up your bed so that he could properly have his way with you “can I put it on?” You asked motioning to the condom wrapper that was in his hand.

Matthew always loved watching you do that “sure thing baby,” he nodded ripping the wrapped open as he held out the condom for you to grab.

Watching you innocently smile as you rolled the latex material over his cock was something Matthew didn’t think he would ever get tired of “fuck y/n.” The boy groaned as you brought his cock over your clit “want you Matty.” You mumbled onto his lips letting him kiss you as he let your cunt swallow his cock.

It was hot watching your mouth form an o as you adjusted to his sheer size “move please.” You ordered as he nodded pulling his hips away before he brought them back to meet yours “missed this god.” Matthew reached out to lock his fingers into yours “just me in this room baby.” Your giggle was quickly cut off as his hands brought your legs up around his waist allowing his cock to slide deeper into you.

Matthew couldn’t help but smirk “not so strong now are we?” He cooed as you picked your hips up to meet his “let make you feel so good.” It almost sounded like he was asking you as he slipped his hand between your bodies so that he could rub your clit.

The room was hot as your breaths were panting “want to be good for you.” You cried at the new level of pleasure that shot through your body.

His lips were down on your neck as you dug your head into the mattress “you always are.” Matthew mumbled making sure to suck on the skin to the point where he knew that you would be having large hickies on display within the next few days.

Sounds of skin slapping and moans bounced off of the walls of the room as you both edged closer to your highs “I’m gonna-” you cried clenching around his cock.

The boy nodded “let the whole floor know about it.” Matthew ordered as he moved his head to kiss your jaw.

Your second orgasm of the afternoon hit you harder as your whole body shuddered under Matthew’s “shit shit right there oh!” You moaned face scrunching up over the sheer pleasure that you felt as your cunt sucked the life out of his cock bringing his orgasm out “so good baby.” The hockey players words were short as he kissed you.

As you both recovered from your orgasms he smiled letting his cock slide out of your cunt “I’m gonna go get a wash cloth.” Matthew got out of bed drawing your attention to the white piece of paper that was sticking out of his suit jacket.

You let your curiosity get the best of you as you leaned down and grabbed it reading the information over as you quickly realised that it was a flight ticket “you’re coming with me?” You asked with a smile forming on your face as you looked up to see your boyfriend nod.

Matthew sat next to you as his grin matched yours “can’t let you see those elephants without me now can I?”

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#in conversation: palomino princess #in conversation: all nighters with rodeo riders #palomino princess #all nighters with rodeo riders #cowboy au #western aesthetic #cowboy!au #cowboy!matthew tkachuk #bull-rider!matthew tkachuk #cowgirl!reader #hughes!reader #hughes!sister #matthew tkachuk x hughes!reader #matthew tkachuk x hughes!sister #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #matthew tkachuk smut #matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk x f!reader #m. tkachuck #matthew tkachuk imagine #ratty matty #matty tkachuk x reader #*ೃ༄ by holy pucks

[hockeysnapsgalore]

Here’s the request for Matthew!

#hockeysnapsgalore #hockey snaps #hockey #hockey smut #matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk smut #florida panthers #florida panthers smut #snapchat #smut snaps

[huggybearluvr]

30 Days of Music Series!!!

This series is gonna be a fic based on a song comment who you would like to see in this series!

@bitchycrownstranger wanted willy added so he is added to the list!

#luke hughes #jackhughes #quinn hughes #trevor zegras fic #jamie drysdale #cole caufield #matthew tkachuk smut #connor bedard #auston matthews #mitch marner #nhl #new jersey devils #vancouver canucks #anaheim ducks #flyers hockey #chicago blackhawks #florida panthers #canadians #toronto maple leafs #nhl fic #hockey boys fic #hockey romance

[nylwnder]

mine, yours | matthew tkachuk

gif by 9116

a/n: this is my entry to @antoineroussel ’s summer fic exchange 2k22!! this piece is for @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 who was my lovely match!! i hope you like it nat, tried my best to make this as angsty as i could (still new to the trope), i hope you enjoy <33333 also to everyone else, this is my first non-leaf player fic so i hope you can enjoy it as well!

warnings: SMUT, fem!oc, my take on trying to make this angsty, right person/wrong time, exes to lovers, soft!matthew, mutual pinning

word count: 2.3k

“maybe we need time to figure ourselves out first?” venus said, bouncing her leg and looking at the ground. “i just know that i wanted to make sure i had everything in line so i could focus on you, focus on us.”

matthew nodded, resting his head on her shoulder. “you’re right. i need to get used to this whole nhl world, and you deserve the time of finishing school and finding your perfect internship.” she smiled at him, appreciating his understanding of her proposal.

“promise me that you won’t forget me, yeah? if life really changes when we go our own ways, and maybe you meet new people… just know that i loved you so much. and i’ll support whatever it is that you choose to do.” venus nodded as matthew spoke, her eyes getting blurred with the many tears that began to build up.

venus knew it was going to be hard to let him go. not have him even in those few minutes of free time the two of them had. though all the while she knew it was best, that a better relationship would come with time. she wanted matthew, and she hoped that even with any circumstances that would arise, she was going to do everything to have him by her side one day or another.

“i’ll say the same thing to you” she says, letting out a small laugh. he looks at her with melancholic eyes, “oh baby, i won’t forget your sweet sweet face”

—

they were phantom fingertips. ones that knew all the places, all the ways to make one crumble under their touch. they were ones that venus knew all too well, ones she pictured for all those years. the ones she ached for day by day. his soft lips, warm breath by her ear. “mine, all mine.”

she woke up, hearing that the plane would land in a few minutes. she sighed, relishing in the series of dreams she had throughout her nights. the ones she hadn’t stopped seeing since she was that 19 year old girl thinking if she made a mistake by letting him go. if maybe she needed him more than anything. if he was the only way she could function.

she’d be closer to him than ever today. closer to her fantasies when she stepped onto the ground that is calgary. she didn’t know if she should be excited or nervous. he could be far from the man she last saw. a girl already standing beside him. laughing in his ear with his arms wrapped around her tightly. she knew that they could always have started to make their own lives between the time apart.

though her thoughts were halted as the taxi dropped venus off at her parents house. a black g-wagon was parked on the driveway behind venus’ father’s car. she knew the meaning of the car to a particular someone but her mind flew past the fact that it was parked in her driveway. as she walked into her childhood home, she heard voices mingling further in.

“i’m here mom, dad!!” venus announced as she made her way to the kitchen. “my darling, you’re home!!” her mom greeted her with open arms. she smiled as her mother took in her presence. “your father is in the living room, why don’t you say hello” she says, venus nodded and made her way over. though her father swooped the girl into a hug before she’d even made it through the hall. “hello sweetie, so great to have you home now!” he says, “i’m so happy to be back! i’ve missed you both”

“why don’t you greet our guest in the living room” her father says. it wasn’t until he parted away that venus’ chocolate eyes widened at the sight of some untamed brown curls that belonged to the boy of her dreams. her heart began to race, she hadn’t seen his soft face for four years.

matthew’s eyes lit up at the sight of venus. her dark brown hair curled around her face beautifully. they both couldn’t help but smile. as he was about to greet her, before he could speak, venus couldn’t think of anything else to do but lunge in his arms. his warmth, scent, build and husky voice in her ears is what she daydreamed for years. for all one could say, it was her determination to complete her goals so she could come home to him. the one thing she was still missing.

“hi” she says, “hello love” he says, his blue eyes taking in the only person he’s had in his mind. though day after day he was still filled with doubt on whether or not she'd take any interest in him once she came home. if she’d found that perfect person for herself while matthew was away.

“matthew here was just visiting us as he usually does,” venus’ mother said, as she looked at the two of them. venus looked at matty, curious if he really made daily visits to her parents home. “but he has practice to head to, right matthew?”

“yes mrs. burkley.” he said, though he kept his eyes fixed on the girl who kept her hands tugging at his sweater. “i gotta go” he said quietly, venus nodded though didn’t make a move to back away from him. “will you still be joining us for dinner tonight?” mrs. burkley asked matty as he finally forced himself to move away from venus even though his whole body ached to hold her till he couldn’t no more. “of course,” he says, venus’ eyes bright at the proposal. “wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

—

around dinner time, matthew didn’t take long before arriving. he wore a dress shirt and some dress pants while venus decided to wear a summery-ish dress that flowed around with her every step. conversation consisted mostly of how perfectly venus’ internship - for a renowned advertising organization - was in new york. matty also shared his highlights of his career of being a professional hockey player for the flames.

though the both couldn't help but hint that everything was perfect except for a part of themselves. the part that knew not having each other made for everything not being enough to bring themselves to true satisfaction. that it wasn’t until they could lie together, legs tangled, bodies as close as humanly possible, and sharing all the sweet nothings that they longed to hear from one another. it isn’t until then, that their hearts would shine as purely, beat as naturally, as they should.

—

a few days had passed since venus’ initial arrival back home. matthew had asked her if she wished to go see one of his games. obviously saying yes maybe a bit too quick than she should’ve, matty sent her the tickets with a slight chuckle escaping his lips. she sat and watched that evening, seeing him skate as swiftly as he always did. before their time apart, she had only watched some of his rookie games when her uni schedule allowed her. though when she was away she’d taken a few nights to watch some of his games, but she had really forgotten how amazing the feeling of being in the arena with all the fans felt.

the game ended, as matthew and the flames won. she waited for him by the lockers, his teammates, old and new, greeted her with kind smiles. “glad you’ll keep him company now. he hasn’t stopped talking about you, it makes us sick.” one of them said to venus, she turned to the man before he walked away.

“wait, do you mean he doesn't have a girlfriend? like at all?” venus asked. even if early this morning she was looking back at all the signs of any possible care matty still has for her, her doubt couldn’t help but stick in her head and distort her thoughts. she wanted nothing more than to find out the truth, “i haven’t seen him even look in a girls direction.” he laughed a bit in which she smiled back.

“venus! how’d you like the game?” matty asked as he jogged to her. she smiled, “so fucking cool!! forgot how much i missed seeing a live game.” he grinned before taking her to his car in the large parking garage. “i have something planned out at my place, if you wanna come over?” matthew asked, fiddling on the steering wheel as they headed out to the nighttime streets of downtown calgary. “sure, i’d love that”

the ride wasn’t too long to matty’s place. venus took her time admiring the feel of exploring the semi empty streets of this beautiful city. the way she used to skip through the puddles of the spring rain and laugh with matthew by her side. snacking on something so mediocre that the two of them just couldn’t help it. matty could see her smile as she drifted through her thoughts, it couldn't help but make him all warm inside. but he thought about who it was that she was dreaming of? if it was the man who’s waiting for her back in new york?

they made their way inside matty’s place, where candles and a pre-prepared meal sat waiting for them. her heart fluttered at the scene in front of her, matthew taking off his suit jacket and venus’ sweater while she stood looking at every itty bitty detail. she spinned around to him as he threw them aside. her eyes skipped from matthew’s eyes to his lips and it took all her confidence to make their lips meet.

after kiss and kiss and kiss, matty didn’t think much before he scooped venus up and made their way to his room. he placed her gently on the bed, her fingers tied in his curls. he chased for her lips as she fell back on the comfy mattress, his hands holding her sides.

“w-wait, venus” matthew spoke, breaking the blissful link of their lips. venus gave a soft whine but she looked into his sad eyes and composed herself from matthew’s toe-curling kisses. “yeah?” she asked, he looked down from her now worried face. she became concerned if she did something wrong, if there really was anything holding them back from being with each other.

“nick. your mother said you’re dating a man named nick back in new york. are you really?” he asked quietly. venus snickered, “my mother never pays attention, does she?” matthew furrowed his brows. “nick? yeah just a guy from my internship who asked me out on one date. just one.”

“you don’t want to go out on more?” matthew asked, pushing a possibility that venus never paid mind to. “matty, i couldn’t feel a single thing for any of them. for anyone who tried to spark a conversation.” matty nodded, surely knowing the feeling, “and- a part of me never wanted to. i kept having this fantasy that when i’d come home, i’d finally get what i always wanted. a particular person who so happened to make it to my parents house before me.”

he smiled, his hands softly beginning to rub her sides. “nick by the way…. well you remember that guy that tried to speak to taryn at any time he could, and brady was like millimetres away from beating him up?” venus said smiling and playing with the collar of mattys dress shirt. “yeah, at the st. patty’s party” she nodded, “yeah well,” she bounced her brows and giggled. “he looks like that? no way” he said, giggling with her. “the resemblance is uncanny. but yeah, my mother is always exaggerating everything, you should know that by now.”

matty nodded, “please she made it seem like a 2 year relationship. but a part of me really did believe it. that you really did move on from what, a childhood crush-” her hands made their way to cup matthews face, “matty i made you a promise, i wasn’t going anywhere.” venus could feel all the uncertainty and hesitation fall from his shoulders. “and i told you i was never going to forget your sweet sweet face”

she smiled, tugging at him to kiss her already. when the two of them broke the kiss for air, a smile crept up at the corners of venus’ lips. “the question is, whether we eat or well, continue in here. what do you think?” matty smirked, laying a teasing kiss on her lips, “i think we’ll work up an appetite later, no?” matty says, pulling a giggling venus up so she could straddle his lap.

“i missed you” venus spoke, letting her arms hook around the back of matty’s neck. “i missed you more, trust me”

shirts ripped off, pants unbuttoned, underwear slipped down. it took no effort to feel like the love filled kids who couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. who couldn’t mask the groans or whines from slipping past their kiss swollen lips. or couldn’t help getting their fingers tangled in each other’s hair, searching for anything to ground them from their euphoric state.

nails scratching against matthew's back, marks taking shape on each other’s neck, a trail of wet kisses leading to venus’ throbbing cunt. she could have sworn that she needed to pinch herself to see if she really was feeling his tongue this time. but now that she tugs at his curls, a tight grip of his hands keeping her thighs from squeezing around his head, she didn’t feel anything but ablaze.

there was such a hunger of having matty fill the void inside of venus. matthew couldn’t count the amount of times he would do anything to feel her wet pussy flutter around his length again. to have her leg hooked up and over his shoulder, just to hear her gasp when he pushed in for what seemed impossibly deeper.

matthew’s warm breath moved from hovering over venus’ neck to her ear. her mouth nipping at his shoulder while his hips harshly bucked into hers. “mine, all mine” he whispered, kissing her jaw.

“all yours” venus whined out, pulling him in for a kiss.

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#the summer fic exchange 2k22 #matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk smut #matthew tkachuk x reader #calgary flames #calgary flames fic #calgary flames smut #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl writing #nhl smut #hockey fics #hockey imagine #hockey smut #hockey writing

[tkwrites]

Love sometimes means fulfilling fantasies - Matthew Tkachuk x ofc

Photos from Pinterest

Title: Love sometimes means fulfilling fantasies

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Matthew Tkachuk x Original female character 

Warnings: smut (18+ only), oral (m and f receiving), face sitting, unprotected sex (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), lots of teasing, mentions of a past, bad semi-controlling relationship.

Summary: When Matthew admits he wants to be bossed around by his girlfriend, she decides to surprise him after a long stint away from home.

Word count: 8500 

Comments: This was inspired by a very intense dream I had a while ago. It’s been in my drafts for more than 2 months as I’ve tried to get it right - trying to find the right balance between smut and story. I originally started this with Quinn and Sarah in mind, but almost instantly realized this wasn't their story. 

I think Matthew is adorable, and thought he would be a perfect fit for it. I thought about this post a lot while I was writing it. 

This is so long and way more smutty than anything I’ve ever posted for others to read. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Love sometimes means fulfilling fantasies

The moment he walked in the house, his eyes were drawn to the bedroom light filtering across the kitchen. Sophie had tried to stay up for him. She did this occasionally, and every time, he would find her in bed, asleep with her glasses still on and a book open on her chest. 

Smiling at the prospect, he set down his bag and shed the raincoat he hadn't bothered to take off in the car. 

“Bedroom. Now.” 

He nearly jumped out of his skin when her voice came from somewhere behind him. 

He turned to find her, but she rebuked him before he saw anything. "I didn't say you could look, Matthew." 

His body responded immediately. Fuck, that's hot. 

More than a month before, she had asked if he had any fantasies he wanted to explore. He admitted that he wanted to be… not dominated - he didn't want to be tied down or anything - but he wanted to be ordered around. The image of Sophie, assertive and demanding, taking pleasure from his body was the subject of many of his dreams. 

It had been so long since that conversation, he'd nearly forgotten about his hushed, “I think about you bossing me around all the time.” 

"Bedroom. Now," she repeated. 

He rushed to get there, leaving his things strewn on the mudroom floor. 

Upon arriving home, he had leaned into his fatigue, prepared to fall into bed, tucking his desire away until morning. This was a totally different welcome than the one he'd been expecting. Adrenaline coursed into his veins banishing the fatigue all together. 

The click of heels followed him through the house, a kind of suspenseful music that ticked to the beat of his heart. 

She was even wearing heels? She never wore heels at home. 

“I hope you're getting undressed,” she said in a sing-songy voice when he got to the bedroom. 

He jumped to obey.  

“Leave your pants on, though.”

He had to redo the zipper, not an easy task with his erection testing the limits of his boxers. He told himself it would be worth it as he re-buttoned his pants. 

The buttons on his shirt nearly popped off in his desperation to get out of it as he toed off his shoes. He didn't like to be barefoot nearly ever, but it was an ick of hers for him to be in bed with only socks on, so he removed them before tossing everything into the closet. 

“Very good,” she said, appearing in the doorway, wearing a dark red robe and black heels with complicated looking straps around her ankles. 

Rooted to the spot and unable to look away, Matthew devoured each deliberate, slow movement as she stalked closer to him. Lace winked at him from between the lapels of her robe. It made him ravenous to see what exactly was under all that silk. 

He started to salivate as his mind caught on to the reality that he would only need to pull the sash at her waist and she would be nearly naked. He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on her.

“Tell me, Matthew, did you expect this?”

He shook his head. He could hardly believe it was even happening. She even had her hair down and curled. 

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, ma'am.” 

She wrinkled her nose, breaking character. A relieved smile spread over his face. He knew this was a character, but having it confirmed that his sweet, funny Sophie was still in there put him more at ease. 

“Not ma'am,” she said, “that makes me sound old. Miss?” she mused, “that's not much better.”

“Mistress,” he supplied. 

She cut her eyes at him, “is that what you call me when you dream about this?”

“N-no,” he stammered.

“What do you call me then?” she asked, placing her hand on his bare chest. 

Gulping, he barely bit back a moan at the skin to skin contact.  

“What do you call me when you dream about being bossed around, Matthew?” she repeated, voice quiet and seductive in his ear as she moved even closer. The silk of her robe brushed against his arm. 

“Sophie,” he said. This time, his voice was a moan. 

His confession hit her full force. He wasn't just interested in being bossed around - he was interested in being bossed around by her. She expected this fantasy to be farther from reality.

“Let's try this again,” she said, mostly for herself. “Matthew, do you like what I'm wearing?”

“Yes.”  

“Yes?” 

“Yes, Sophie.” 

“Good,” she praised, trailing her hand around his rib cage. “Kiss me.”

He pounced like a starved man, catching her mouth in a kiss that was all at once passionate and consuming. 

When his hand ran up the smooth fabric covering her back, he felt it through his whole body.

Taking control, she coaxed his tongue into her mouth and sucked. He was instantly transported back to the first time she'd done this same thing after their second date. His legs still turned to putty. It felt so good every time. She tugged on his hair and he let out noise he never made with anyone else. 

This was a side of Sophie he'd never seen at home. 

It often came out in other places when decisions needed to be made. She always had a quiet confidence about her, but when a crisis happened, or no one was stepping up to make decisions, she, as she called it, “put on her boss pants and got shit done."

The first time she'd done it, they'd been on vacation with some friends and missed their boat back to the hotel. He'd been embarrassingly turned on by the way she had taken control, calming everyone down and ordering him to call the hotel concierge so they could get some directions. After that, he doubled his efforts, trying to convince her to give him a chance as more than a friend. 

Now that the bossy side of her was finally directed at him in their bedroom, he couldn't get enough. 

She broke away and kissed her way up to his ear. “Am I doing okay?” she asked softly.  

Okay? She practically had him on his knees. It was so unfair for this to come right after a road trip. He was already starving for her, and now she was teasing.  

“Yes,” he panted.

She took a step back from him, “Do you want to see what I have on underneath?”

He nodded, seconds away from actually dropping to his knees to beg for her. It had been seven long days since he'd had her, and this situation had him ready to do whatever he needed to to please her. 

“Go ahead,” she said, letting her arms fall open to give him free access.

His hands lept to the tie, which fell away easily. His eyes widened as he pushed the silk off her shoulders and it pooled at her elbows.

“Do you like it?” she asked, letting the silk flutter onto the floor. 

She wore a black lace bra that made her boobs look incredible with, it looked like, matching cheeky panties, just like she knew he liked. 

Saliva pooled under his tongue. Oh God. He was fucked. 

"Matthew, do you like it?" she asked again, throwing in a twirl for good measure. 

Catching his first glimpse of her ass, the lace riding half way up her cheeks, his knees nearly buckled. She was so damn sexy. 

His over eager nod had him feeling like some kind of cartoon character - too fast and exaggerated. 

The whole time she had been devising this plan, Sophie had imagined his reaction to this lingerie. She knew he would like it. Looking at him now, with his blown pupils and fingers flexing at his sides, she found she wanted to tease him just a little bit more. 

Turning her back to him, she bent down to unlatch her right shoe. 

His groan was the stuff dreams were made of.

His hand caressed over her left hip, and she batted it away. 

“I didn't give you permission to touch,” she said, standing straight as she turned around, only one of the three right straps undone. 

A desperate sound escaped his throat, and he forced himself to ask, “can I please touch you, Sophie?” 

Tapping an index finger on her lips, she pretended to think. “I'm not sure you've earned that, yet.” 

The shock that covered his face was almost instantly replaced by competitive determination. “What do I need to do?” he asked, his voice sounding like it'd been raked over hot coals. 

“Let's see if you can keep your hands to yourself for at least one shoe, yeah?” 

Matthew hated and loved this idea with every fiber of his being. Sophie didn't usually tease. Now that she was, he found he only wanted more.

Once he agreed, she turned around again - because of course she did - and bent over, showcasing the natural flexibility every woman in his family was envious of. She was going to kill him. Or slowly drive him insane. Or perhaps both. 

Matthew shoved his hands in his pockets and fisted them to keep them from developing a mind of their own. 

With the fiddly straps undone, she decided it was enough. His breathing was getting more and more ragged, which had her so turned on, she could feel her desire soaking her little lace panties. 

Raising to a flat back position, she glanced over her shoulder. “Are you going to ask again?” 

He swallowed visibly, “can I please touch you?” 

“Yes.” 

He pulled his hands out of his pockets and she watched his fingers flex and contract as if they'd been fisted so tightly, he needed to bring blood back into them. 

He reached for her. 

“But-” he stopped immediately, letting out a little whine. “You can't take anything off.” 

Nodding quickly, he agreed. He just needed his hands on her.

She bent over again, and his hands caressed her soft hips. 

“Fuck, Sophie.” After all that, touching her felt like it's own reward. 

With the other buckles undone she stood, making sure to toss her hair back into his face when she did. 

He grunted, pulling her against him so she could feel what she was doing to him. 

"What do you want?" she asked, one hand slipping around the back of his neck as she kicked off her shoes. 

With the heels gone, Matthew reveled in having his normal sized girlfriend back. "I want whatever you want to give me."

Turning in his embrace, one of her eyebrows rose. "Whatever I want to give you?" she repeated, trailing her fingers from his waistband to his nipple, which she circled delicately. 

Nodding, he made a sort of muffled, whining, affermatory noise. 

"What if I want to give you what you want?"

“That's not…uh, I, uh,”  a jumble of gibberish fell out of his mouth. He was having a hard time focusing enough to form coherent words, still trying to reconcile the Sophie in front of him with the one he'd expected to find. Meanwhile, her finger still circled the sensitive nub, sending so much electricity shooting between his legs, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been this hard in his life. 

Her mouth brushed against his ear before she asked again, "what do you want, Matthew?” Gently taking the lobe between her teeth, she nibbled 

The way she kept saying his name coupled with how she was touching him made his brain short circuit into primitive, caveman thinking. "I want to make you come."

"How?"

This wasn't how this was supposed to go. She was supposed to be telling him what to do, not the other way around. 

Taking a deep breath, he paused to make his thoughts coherent before telling her, "you tell me. You're supposed to be the one ordering me around."

Sophie blushed. She knew he wanted her assertive and bossy, but neither of those were things she could just pull out at the drop of a hat - especially in the bedroom. It was one thing to tease him by dangling what she knew he wanted just out of reach. It was something totally different to order him around like he was some kind of pet. She'd been trying to circumnavigate around her discomfort by ordering him to tell her what he wanted. It was a cop out and she knew it. 

"You promise this is okay?" she asked, letting nerves shake her voice. 

This was fantasy brought to life in a way he'd never expected. Looking into her eyes, he brought her hand to the front of his trousers so she could feel how he strained against the zipper. "More than okay. Tell me what you want me to do." 

Standing straight, she steeled herself and tried not to let her voice warble. "I want your mouth," she said.

There was no shock in his face, only a deepening desire as his eyes grew darker.

Oh. 

This wasn't just for her. 

He wanted it. 

He liked it. 

A force she'd never felt before flowed down her spine, filling her with conviction. Leaning into that newfound power, she added, "and I want to be on top." 

She'd fantasized about it for so long, but had never been brave enough to tell him. 

“Gladly,” he rasped, mind already racing with images and ideas. 

For his part, Matthew wanted to give her any and every experience she wanted, but knew she wouldn't ask for the things she felt were more risqué as part of their normal, everyday life.

He hoped this fantasy of his might kill two birds with one stone.

Unable to look away, his breath locked in his chest as she hooked her thumbs in her panties, easing the sides down. 

"Do you want to -" she stopped herself, before swallowing and starting again. "Matthew?"

“Yeah?” 

"I want you to take off my lingerie."

Getting orders from her was even hotter than he dreamed it would be. He was going to start drooling here if he wasn't careful.

Back to her in a flash, he slid his fingers to the clasp of her bra. Palms skimming over her breasts, he eased the fabric off. "You're so fucking beautiful," he said, letting the lace drop to the ground. 

Glancing into her face, voice gruff, he asked, “can I use my mouth on you here?”

She nodded, letting out a breathy, “yes.”

As his mouth went to her breasts, licking and kissing, his hands swept over her hips so he could take large handfuls of her ass in those damn underwear. 

Her mind began to spin. Not only from his talented mouth, now laving at one of her nipples, but because of her plan. She wanted him in her mouth before they made love. She needed to rethink her strategy to make sure he had enough time to recover.

His hands slowly slid up to her waistband, relishing the texture of the lace contrasted against her smooth, warm skin. 

“Stop,” she ordered before he could push her underwear off.

He pulled his mouth away, but didn't take his hands off of her. 

When she went to his neck, leaving open mouthed, wet kisses, his fingers curled into the flesh of her hips. His head tipped to give her more access.  

Sophie could never spend enough time with her mouth and hands on Matthew. “You smell so good,” she purred, continuing her exploration onto his collar bone. 

The feeling of her mouth on him while her hands slowly slid down his back had him too entranced to respond with more than a grunt. 

She licked the divot between his clavicle and the round swell of his shoulder before cupping his rear to pull him flush to her body.

Fireworks popped and flashed between them as Matthew rocked his hips into her, desperate to soothe his aching lust. He wanted her so much. He’d wanted her when he parked the car, resigned to the fact that he would have to wait until the next morning. Now, she was against him with her beautiful body, wearing the sexiest pair of underwear he’d ever seen. He let his fingers trace the lace pattern at the edge and smiled when she shuddered. 

Her mouth continued its exploration, winding down his chest, pausing to flick her tongue over the nipple she had neglected. 

He moaned, eyes flaring wide when she lowered to her knees in front of him.

“I changed my mind.” 

Looking up, she traced a feather light touch from his belly button to the button of his pants and smiled when his muscles flexed and jumped.

“I'm going to blow you before you use that pretty mouth on me.”

He swore. This was a kind of torturous heaven where she was slowly driving him mad before giving him what he needed. He never wanted her to stop. 

Working the button of his pants, then the zipper torturously slow, she purred, “you're going to come in my mouth, okay, Matthew?”

His breathing hitched, his voice nearly cracking as he agreed, “yes, Sophie.” 

He rarely let her finish him that way. He loved her mouth, but past girlfriends hadn't liked it, so he tended to avoid the issue. Besides, given the choice, he would rather come inside her. He never would have guessed she missed it. 

Peeling his boxer briefs down, Sophie leaned into the alter ego she kept caged within her own thoughts. “Good boy,” she praised. 

 God, hearing that should not make him shiver with anticipation and pleasure as much as it did. He flushed at having pleased her.

As he stepped out of his pants, he wondered if she might let him sit down. It had been so long since he'd come in her mouth, he wasn't totally sure he'd stay upright, especially tonight. Before he could ask, she was running her hands over his legs. 

Sophie tsked. “These thighs,” she all but moaned reverently. Obligingly, the muscles in question flexed under her palms. 

Apparently, she was letting everything she'd ever fantasized about bubble up to the surface as if her propriety had sloughed off along with her lingerie. 

The next thing he knew, she was licking his leg from the knee all the way up to the v line, which she kissed and tongued liberally. 

“Fuck,” he breathed. She'd never worshiped his body like this. He knew she found him attractive, but this was something totally different. It made his stomach clench and his head feel light.

Every brush of her tongue, every kiss from her lips made him twitch. She was so close to where he wanted her. Knowing she wanted him to come in her mouth made it worse until he was simmering and heady with impatience. 

She pulled away so slowly, he swore he could feel every millimeter of her lips lifting from him. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was finally getting her mouth. It melted into a whine when she passed over to begin the same torture on the other leg. He was so close to the pleasure she was promising, but she was holding off. 

“Please Sophie,” he begged. He would do anything to feel her.

“Since you asked so nicely,” she said, smiling up at him through her lashes as she guided him past her lips. 

He had to close his eyes to stop himself from exploding at the sight alone. 

She pulled off nearly as soon as she'd started, “do you like it, Matthew?”

He almost said something snarky, like, I would if I could feel it, but thought better of it. The Sophie in front of him was a different creature than usual, and he didn't want to upset her. He had no doubt she wouldn’t hesitate to punish him for his sass, and he couldn’t take that on top of everything else. 

Instead, he leaned into the shy, genuine part of himself. “Yes, Sophie.” 

Finally, she took him in her mouth, swallowing all she could comfortably fit and using her hand on the rest. 

Sinking his fingers into her hair, he tried to steady himself without leaning too much weight on her. 

“You feel so good.” 

With seven days away and twenty minutes of blissful torture built up in his system, he knew it wouldn’t take much to tip him over the edge. Still, when the tell tale signs rushed in so soon, even he was surprised. He needed to tell her in case she changed her mind.

“Soph, ’m gonna come,” he said urgently.

Her mouth lifted off of him completely. “You’re such a good boy, Matthew,” she purred, slowly skimming her fingertips down his throbbing cock, “giving me what I want.” 

Eyes rolling back, he practically growled. He’d always wanted her to order him around but never imagined her praising him like this. He wanted more and more, again and again.

She wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, and he moaned, thrusting softly into her mouth. 

His orgasm reared anew fast enough to give him whiplash. 

She hummed as she pulled him over the edge and the vibrations rippled through his body, making every muscle stutter. 

When she slid her mouth off him, she paused to make sure he was looking her in the face before she swallowed. 

"Holy shit." He stumbled back and sank onto the bed, legs losing the battle to stay upright. He'd hoped she would be a little more liberated, but this was beyond any of his expectations. "Fuck, Soph, that was so hot." 

Bringing him nearly to his knees with her mouth alone made her feel like she could do anything. It was just the confidence boost she needed. A feeling of immense self satisfaction filled her.

Crawling over to him, she used his knees for balance as she stood.

Matthew wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek against her stomach, needing to feel her close as he came down. 

"I love you," he said, mouth against her skin. It felt important to tell her. Not just because of the blow job - which, God, did he love her for - but because he loved all of her. He loved her for her willingness to fulfill this fantasy. It was so much better than anything he'd imagined. 

"I love you, too." 

She threaded her fingers into his curly hair and his eyes fluttered shut. 

Soaking in the tender moment, he let himself catch his breath before pressing kisses to her stomach. 

“I swear, I thought about eating you out every night I was gone.” 

“Really?" She sounded more surprised than he would like. 

He nodded, tongue darting over his lips as he looked up at her. “I love getting you off and I know you like oral best.”

“I mean…You don't mind the smell?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. 

“Do you really think I would put myself through it so often if I didn't like it?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.  

“I don't know,” she said with a shrug. “I thought maybe it was something you just put up with to get to the good part.”

“It's all the good part with you Soph.”

She chuffed a little laugh. 

“I love the way you taste. I crave it when I've been away too long.”

The way her cheeks flushed made him want to please her even more. 

"Are you ready to sit on my face?" he teased, assuming she found the phrase crass. 

Even while rolling her eyes, she nodded. 

The uncertain feelings that were nearly always stewing in her finally broke to the surface for the first time that night. "We don't have to do it that way."

"No," he reprimanded gently, flexing his grip so she couldn't pull away. "If this is something you want, you deserve to get it. I'm fine with it."

Her teeth worried at her lower lip, "you're sure?"

"Yes," he said fervently. "I want to make you feel good, and if this is how you want it, I want to do it for you."

"I just," she paused to sigh a breath through her nose. "I don't want to suffocate you or something."

He laughed. 

"I'm serious, Matthew."

"It'll be fine, Sophie."

"How do you know?"

"I've done it before, and it was fine." 

She looked unconvinced, and like she was about to argue another point he knew wouldn’t make any difference. He cut in before she could bring it up. "If it'll make you feel better, I can let you know if I can't breathe."

She pursed her lips, barely keeping in her worry about being bigger than any of the women he'd dated before. That would bring on a whole lecture about how it wasn't true, and her weight didn't matter to him - he just wanted her to be happy and healthy.

Most of the time, she was able to put off the comparison and agree with him, but this felt like a case where that factor should be taken into consideration. 

In the end, the thing that kept her quiet were memories of the sad, wounded, puppy look he got in his eyes when she talked disparagingly about her body. 

"It would make me feel better," she said instead. 

"Done." 

Hooking his fingers into her panties, he started easing them down. 

Goosebumps rippled over her skin and her nipples tightened. 

Letting the lace fall the rest of the way down, he licked one of the tender buds into his mouth. He lay back, pulling her with him. Her core was hot and wet against his thigh as she draped over him.

His hands and mouth on her, and his care and willingness to fulfill her fantasies had her outrageously turned on. She rutted against his thigh a few times in an attempt to pacify her lust.

He moaned, flexing the muscle on instinct. She gasped, deciding instantly that getting herself off on his thigh was definitely going onto her fantasy wishlist. 

For now, though, she couldn't be deterred from the opportunity at hand. She moved onto the bed and he scrambled up to lay his head on the pillows. 

He got comfortable before motioning her over. "Here," he said, voice husky, but gentle, "you can hold onto the headboard here."

Heat raced onto her cheeks. 

"Come on," he said, reaching for her. "It's been too long. I can't wait to taste you."

Letting him pull her into position, her heart was already pounding against her ribs as if it might try to break out of her chest. 

Matthew had dreamed of this before - Sophie, all lovely and lush above him while he worshiped her with his mouth. The reality of it was so much better than anything he had imagined. 

"You're so beautiful," he said, running his hands up and down her thighs. 

She blushed, but accepted the compliment, "thank you."

He continued to admire her, waiting until she was ready. 

"You promise you'll tell me if you can't breathe?"

"Yes, I promise," he assured. "I'll tap your hip like this."

She nodded. 

"Now, come here." 

Wrapping his large hands over her hips, he guided her to his mouth. The sound she let out when he made contact was music to his ears. 

It was so much better than she'd anticipated. Perhaps it was just the thrill of a fantasy becoming reality that had her nervous system in overdrive, but something about this - the position, the way his mouth worked on her clit and the way he huffed against her had her synapses snapping. 

As it turned out, she may have been right to worry. Not because of her imagined fear that she was bigger than other women he'd dated, but because Matthew was so competitively intense and wanted to make her come so badly, he would put off breathing until his body demanded oxygen. The reality that he couldn’t just tilt his head to pull in a quick breath hit him full force after a few minutes. 

Although he'd had no intention of using the signal, he tapped her hip twice when his lungs started to burn.

She lifted up, but he stopped her before she got more than an inch away. His tongue kept working, circling her sensitive bud, even as she felt him drag in heavy, deep breaths.

She shuddered as cool air pulled across her heated skin.

Pulling her back down, he latched his mouth back onto her, sucking and stroking. 

"Matthew."

He would never get over the way she moaned his name.

"Matthew, put your tongue inside me." 

Where had that come from? She'd read about it before, but never had any desire to feel it. She got off from clitoral stimulation, so what would that bring to the table? 

With the reality that was Matthew working his magic, and her newfound ability to call the shots, she found she needed his mouth in every way possible. 

He groaned and felt her shudder above him. He was never getting over this. He was never getting over her going after what she wanted. Never getting over experiencing her like this. 

A new wave of pleasure ripped through her when he shifted to accommodate her request. She didn’t think this could get any better. 

Sophie clung to the headboard. "That feels so good," she whined.

He kept thrusting his tongue into her, hands gripping her hips to keep her steady. She filled his senses completely, leaving no room for anything else, and he wouldn't have it any other way.  

"Oh!" she moaned loudly when he adjusted his angle slightly, bringing the straight bridge of his nose against her clit.

Fire whipped up her spine. "Right there! Don't stop, don't stop, please don't stop."

He was never stopping - not until she was satisfied a million times over. 

Head thrown back, she panted in rhythm with his ministrations. He'd never seen anything so beautiful. 

Her thighs trembled around him and he knew she was close. Putting off breathing for a bit longer, he continued urging her up the peak he knew she was so close to cresting. 

Mouth open, she tried to let him know she was coming. Instead, her body took over, letting out a keening noise she'd never heard herself make before. 

Her core fluttered around his tongue and Matthew moaned. He loved this part: the point when he knew he'd won over her body and pushed her over the edge into bliss. 

Forcing her hips up just enough, he sucked in a few deep breaths before wrapping his lips around her clit, flicking it with his tongue.  

Time tilted and her body felt weightless as her high rolled into another. 

“Oh my god.” 

He kept going, and she kept coming. One of her hands abandoned its post balancing on the headboard to fist into his curls. He groaned, just like she knew he would.

The first time he went down on her, he told her she could pull his hair if she wanted. She'd been so surprised at the way he had moaned into her, intensifying his efforts when she had. 

Easing off when pleasure started to bleed into pain, she lifted herself up. He licked his lips and pulled in some heavy breaths. 

Chest heaving, Sophie tried to swing her leg over so she could sit next to him. 

"One more," he moaned, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of her thighs to keep her over him. "Let me give you one more."

He hadn't prepared himself for that to be the last one. There was no way he could be done with this scenario. With her pleasure engulfing every one of his senses, he just couldn't be done. It was too intoxicating. 

"Please," he said as if he might die without it. 

Twist her arm, she couldn't resist. Matthew was the only man Sophie had ever been with who put so much emphasis on her pleasure, let alone enjoyed getting her off. 

As soon as she started lowering her hips back down, he leaned up and licked a thick stripe through her. 

Her legs quivered. "I'm -" she had to pause and take a deep breath, "Matt, I'm sensitive," she said, looking down at him. 

He winked and coaxed her with long, languid strokes of his tongue. Watching her face intently, he made sure he was using just the right amount of pressure to not cause pain. 

Her hips began to move of their own volition, seeking. 

"Oh, God," she breathed, "Matthew."

If he died right then, he thought, he would die a happy man. 

Come on, he urged silently, come for me. 

As if she were reading his mind, she let out a long, low moan, and trembled above him, core pulsing against his mouth.

He feasted on her, drinking in every movement, every sensation. He could never get enough of her pleasure. 

This time, when she went to move off of him, he helped her. 

She sat heavily against the headboard, gulping in air. "Oh my God." Reaching for him without looking, her hand landed on his chest with a gentle smack. "That was amazing.”

Covering her hand with his own, he entwined their fingers before wiping his face with his other hand. 

After catching her breath, she moved to lay beside him. "Seriously," she said, settling on her side, one arm bent under her head as a pillow, "that was…I don't even have words for how good that was." 

He blushed. "I'm glad you liked it." Her praise, bereft of any teasing, had him feeling shy. 

“Liked it?” she repeated, giggling. “That was the most intense high I’ve ever felt. I don't think I’ve ever come that many times in a row.” 

Pride swelled in his chest. He reached for her and pulled her on top of him. Threading his fingers into her hair, he guided her down to a kiss.

She could taste herself on his mouth, which was arousing in a way she always felt shouldn't be.

His big hands explored, leaving fiery trails on her skin. When he cupped her breasts, she arched against him with a groan. The overstimulation had dissipated and was replaced by a steadily increasing hum of pleasure. 

His mouth and hands ignited her desire again. How was it possible to want someone this much? She wanted him in ways she didn’t know she’d ever want a man again. 

"I want you to take me from behind," she said, lips whispering against his. 

Matthew pulled back into the pillow to look at her face. "Are you sure?"

A while after they started sleeping together, he asked her what she liked. "Any position we can be face to face,” she'd said. “Smith only wanted it from behind the last few months. Every time I would initiate, he'd end up flipping me over. It made me feel so, like… unpretty, you know? Like he couldn't even stand to look at me."

It had broken Matthew's heart. How could anyone not want to look at her? He wanted to look at her all the time. 

Because of that, he always made sure to initiate cowgirl, missionary or any other position where they could be face to face. He never wanted her to feel like he didn't want her. 

"Yes," she said, sitting up. "I know you'd never turn me around just to fantasize about someone else."

"Never," he agreed, emphatically. 

She'd never felt like this with a man before - so full to the brim with love and trust. "So, tonight, strictly for the sake pleasure, I want you to fuck me from behind."

This was another thing she never said, opting instead for sex or making love. She always said fucking was too vulgar of a word for what they were doing.

Hearing it from her mouth now woke a primal side of himself he hadn't felt since he was much younger. 

They never fucked, they made love. He didn't miss it, but the prospect of trying something new with her excited him beyond belief. 

“Where do you want me?”

The power humming beneath her skin shifted into a higher gear, giving her the jumpstart to move off of him. 

“On your knees,” she said. 

He obeyed, then watched, entranced, as she got into the position she wanted. On hands and knees, and then lowered to her forearms so her back sloped down. 

Turning her back to him felt so different than it had with Smith. There was nothing compromising about this with Matthew. She wasn’t embarrassed, or worried her face wasn’t pretty enough, or feeling like she was giving something up just to keep him close. 

“Okay,” she said. 

He moved behind her, skimming both hands up her legs and over the curvature of her sides like a priceless piece of art. He wanted to remember every second of this. 

The trust she felt for and from Matthew allowed her to be in her body more. She could feel the bed dip as he moved, feel the sheets brush against her pebbled nipples. Her skin buzzed with anticipation of his touch. She felt safe and giddy. When was the last time she’d ever felt giddy while on her knees? 

“Can you lift your hips a little more?” he asked, voice gentle.

She did and he bit his lip. He rarely fantasized about this. He preferred to see her face when they were together too, but this? This was a teenage wet dream come to life - made better with love, devotion and trust. 

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, stopping himself from running his fingers through her just so he could taste her sweet nectar again.

Sophie’s thoughts raced with possibilities - all the times she’d read about this - knowing Matthew would try anything she wanted at least once. 

“Slide over my clit,” she said.

A moan escaped his throat as he glided through her. He never would have done this on his own. Now, he never wanted to stop.

“How does it feel?” she asked. If she couldn’t see him, she needed him to tell her. 

“So good,” he grunted. “You’re so smooth.” 

She shifted her angle so the head of his cock brushed over her clit with each stroke. 

The fire in her belly raged into an inferno. 

“I need you inside me.”

He was going to die before the night was over. Hearing her say these things, hearing how much she wanted him, like she just couldn’t wait - he’d never wanted to please someone more in his entire life. 

Easing into her, he exhaled deeply, noting the way her back arched to change the angle of penetration. 

“Okay,” she said, gently pushing her hips back to give him permission to move. 

He started slow and soft, which was not at all what she wanted.

After a few slick thrusts, she told him what she did want, “harder.”

He picked up the pace, but it wasn't enough.

“Harder.”

Biting his lip, he increased again. 

She still wanted more. 

“Fuck me harder.” It came out more of a demand than a request. She was too caught up in the moment to feel bad about it.

Shit. 

Fuck. 

Goddamn. 

How was he supposed to just take this and not explode the second those orders came out of her mouth? 

“Matthew, please.”

Her begging shattered the controlled softness he usually restrained himself with. She wanted harder? He'd give her harder.

He snapped his hips to hers.

She cried out, back arching.

The sound of his skin meeting hers, the feeling of the sheets brushing her nipples as she was pitched forward, then pushed herself back, and his panting and grunting behind her made her feel feral in the best way, like she just wanted to swallow him whole. 

She pushed back to meet every thrust and he had to tip his head back. He wanted to wait. He had to.

Her entire body trembled with the need for release.

“Touch me,” she begged. She needed it so much, she felt like she might just set the whole house on fire. 

His left hand slid around her hip to stroke her. 

She moaned. It had never felt like this with Smith. This was… this was… this was a symphony. Every part working together to make something more beautiful than they could alone. 

That rhythm sustained her for a while before she was begging again, “more. Please give me more.” She was so, so close. 

Tenderly, he drummed two fingers on her clit, desperate to send her over the edge. 

Back bowing as pleasure streaked through her body, she shouted, “Fuck, Matthew! Yes!” 

There were a few delicious moments where Sophie was floating between being stretched to her limit and falling apart completely. 

The pressure finally exploded and her muscles locked around him.

Matthew gasped her name, right hand squeezing her hip to keep the tenuous grasp he had on his control. The idea he was clinging to helped him wait as he worked her through her orgasm. 

Joints blissfully liquefied, she collapsed onto her stomach.

Thankful for the break, he sat back on his haunches and took some time to steady himself as she came down. 

“Can you turn over?” he asked once her breathing slowed a bit. “I want to see your face when I come.”

Although she'd asked him to fuck her from behind, he knew she'd want to see him - to know she was the one making him feel this way. 

She was - and he needed her to know. 

Sophie nearly choked out a sob. Matthew, her sweet Matthew. He could be a pest, even to her when he wanted to tease, and especially when competition was involved, whether it be playing some silly game or the incessant need he had to win at everything: cleaning or chopping or the morning race to the bathroom. 

When it really counted, though, he was unfailingly polite and courteous and always looking out for her. 

The sheets briefly clung to her damp skin as she rolled over and looked up at him. His chest expanded and contracted rapidly with every panted breath. His skin was flushed, his curls tight with sweat. He was the most handsome thing she'd ever seen.  

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” she asked, reaching up to cup his face. 

“Everything,” he said, nuzzling his stubbled jaw into her palm. Had he known this was coming, he would have shaved. “You're perfect for me, Sophie.”

She blinked a few times to make the tears she could feel behind her eyes stay there. 

“I love you,” she whispered.

He grinned. “I love you, too.”

When he entered her again, slowly, he didn't close his eyes, though his lids grew heavy. He didn't want to miss a single second of this. 

Sophie let out a little yelp of surprise when he flipped them over. 

“I want to watch you come on my cock,” he said, holding her hips. “That's the only thing I want from tonight.”

While she was supposed to be giving the orders, she was happy to comply with this request, even though she was sore from her previous orgasms. 

She adjusted to get the right angle, and let out a stuttered little moan when he caressed against her g spot. Apparently, the best way to find it was to orgasm five times in a row. 

It wasn’t long before she began to fatigue. They’d been going for so long already, and she wasn’t used to using her muscles in short bursts of energy over and over again like he was. 

Leaning forward, trying to find a comfortable position, she winced as her clit brushed his pelvis. Pain flared, and she backed off, thighs and hips protesting the movement.

“I know, Soph,” he said.

He didn’t know really, but he knew how sensitive he got after an orgasm. If she was feeling anything like that, he definitely needed to make a change. 

Leaning back would probably be the most comfortable position for her. He straightened his knees a little more and guided her to recline against his legs. 

Sophie sighed contentedly, feeling the pain ebb off and pleasure start to thrum through her again. She swayed her hips from side to side, “so good, Matthew.” 

A small thrill zinged through him. He let out a relieved sigh and began rocking into her. 

She moaned and threw her head back, exposing the long column of her throat. It was exactly what he’d wanted.

This was a more gentle high than the one she’d just crested. It built up slowly, making her whole body feel warm and sated. 

By the time her orgasm did come, she was relaxed with the pleasure of it, glad her pelvic muscles did their work on their own. She was too blissed to direct any traffic. 

Matthew moaned when she constricted around him. It was such a stark contrast to the soft feel of them rocking together. That sudden shift sent him over the edge - spilling into her with his hands on her hips and her name on his tongue. 

Sophie slumped against Matthew's legs, gulping air. “Oh my God,” she said. 

“Yeah.”

She knew she should get up to use the bathroom, but was too exhausted to move. 

Finally, it became more uncomfortable to keep the position she was in than it would be to get out of it. 

Matthew's eyes flew open when she lifted up. He caught the wince that flashed across her face and his hands flew to help her. 

“Thanks,” she said, sliding off the edge of the bed with wobbly legs. 

Sophie's hips may as well have been made of jello as she stumbled to the bathroom. She felt stretched in ways she hadn't in a long time. It wasn’t totally unpleasant, but it was new.

When she opened the door, she found Matthew on the other side, looking down at her with concern in his blue eyes. 

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, I'm just a bit sore.” She gave him a cheeky smile and a wink, “we haven't gone that many rounds in a night since Tahiti.” 

He laughed, but felt it was a shame they hadn't done that for more than six months. The season was taking too much of a toll. 

“Do you want to take a bath? That'll help with some of the soreness.”

“I'd like that.”

He handed her the robe she'd been wearing and started the tap on the large tub. 

As it filled, he lifted her onto the counter. “I'm sorry we haven't done that more,” he said. “I've been gone too much.”

“You don't need to apologize, Matthew. You're always present when you're home and I haven't felt neglected.” 

“How are you so understanding?” he asked. 

“I'm in this relationship too. I see how hard you work, and I know you see how hard I work. Plus, I don't need five orgasms a night to feel loved. You know that.” She paused before thoughtfully adding, “I don't think I'd survive.” 

He laughed, feeling, not for the first time, that this was his favorite thing about Sophie. She was beautiful and funny and sweet, but her willingness to understand his life and meet him halfway meant more than all that. 

“I saw you had the day off tomorrow, so I moved my meetings so we could spend the day together. And I just kept thinking I had enough time that I could fulfill your fantasy tonight.”

“I still can't believe you did that.” He said, bending down to rest his forehead on her shoulder, “when you bent over to take off your shoes, I swear I almost came in my pants.” 

“That sound you made was straight out of a porno.”

Straightening to look into her face, one eyebrow raised, he asked, “how would you know?”

“I don't live under a rock,” she teased, shoving his shoulder. 

He laughed, and a moment passed where Sophie admired him. 

“So it was okay?” she asked.

Matthew had to bite his cheek to keep from teasing her about possibly being deaf and blind. “You couldn't tell?”

“I mean, I could but I just wanted to be sure you got everything you wanted.”

He tipped her chin up to meet her gaze, “Soph, you know our sex life wasn't lacking before, right? This was just icing on the cake.” 

The unsure smile she gave him twisted his heart. “Have you been walking around for the past month thinking that I’ve been unsatisfied?” 

“No, not really. I know you like what we have, I just started to worry. Like, do you want me to be more aggressive in the bedroom all the time?” 

“Aggressive?” he repeated, “no. But I wouldn’t mind you telling me what you want more often. Like sliding over your clit? I never would have done that on my own, and we both really liked it.” 

She nodded, “I’m just so…” she took a deep breath. “With Smith, it always seemed I was lacking in something, you know?” 

If Matthew ever met Smith, he was going to punch him right in the face for hurting Sophie the way he did. She hadn’t even been able to end it on her terms. When she’d tried, he announced he was seeing someone else before she could get all the words out.

After they broke up, it took Matthew four months to convince her he was a good enough guy for her to even consider the idea they could be more than friends. 

He shut off the water before turning back to cup her cheeks, “Soph, I love you, and I love what we have. I’m sorry Smith hurt you, but I’m not him.”

“I know that,” she sniffed and slid off the counter.

Gathering her against him, kissing her hair, he murmured, “I love you, Sophie. You know I’ll tell you if I need something. Can you trust that if I don’t things are good?”

Matthew couldn’t be farther from Smith. Sometimes, she wondered how exactly she’d ended up in this relationship with a man that was so perfect for her. 

“Yeah,” she said into his neck. 

“Good.” 

He gently pushed the robe off. His heart still beat a little faster at her exposed skin, despite what they had just been doing. “You ready for that bath?” 

“You’re not coming?” 

“Do you want me to?” 

She nodded.

He scrambled out of his boxers and climbed into the tub before reaching for her so she could sit between his legs. 

Leaning back on him, she sighed contentedly. 

“I love you, Matthew,” she said, one hand raising to thread her fingers into the soft curls at the nape of his neck, “I'm so glad we found each other.” 

Letting the tips of his fingers trace memories on her skin, he recalled all the times he’d touched her. 

“I love you too, Sophie,” he said, wrapping his arms around her to bring her even closer - to shut out the world and everything that had or could hurt her. “You bring so much joy into my life and I don't want to do any part of it without you.” 

Deciding to trust what he said was true, she relaxed into him, letting the warm water soak away her pain until nothing more than a pleasant ache between her thighs remained. 

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