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bunmurdock · 5 months

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just working | matt murdock x f!reader

summary: you’re trying to focus on work, but matt murdock has something else in mind. tags: softdom!matt, office sex, oral (f!receiving), piv, established relationship, (not-so) secret relationship, idiots in love. word count: 1.9k a/n: i wasn’t expecting to share a fic so soon after putting out the poll, but someone replied something lovely on one of my fics, and it really made my day and motivated me to put to paper a little fantasy i’ve had for a while. 😭

“matt, we really shouldn’t be doing this here,” you whisper, giggling as you hide your face in his chest. you can feel his heart pounding as fast as yours, the thrill of the secret adding to the excitement.

“you started it,” he teases, his voice low and warm, the vibrations tickling your ear. you’re in his office, papers and files strewn across his desk with a half-spilled coffee on the floor, a testament to the workday that’s supposed to be happening. but right now, all that fades away. it’s just you and matt, alone in a bubble of your own making.

you look up at him. there’s a glimmer of mischief on his face, a challenge. “did not,” you retort playfully, trying to stifle another round of laughter. matt’s hand rests on your back, his touch light but firm, anchoring you to the moment.

“anyway,” you say, still fanning the half-dry coffee stain on your skirt. “seriously, matt, we need to focus.”

"i am focused,” he insists, the corner of his lip upturned in mischief. “focused on you.” he reaches out, pretending to adjust a nonexistent wrinkle on your shirt. the light touch sends a shiver through you, and you swat his hand away playfully.

"stop it,” you whisper, but with no real severity in your tone. matt just grins, undeterred.

"you know, you’re adorable when you’re trying to be serious,” he teases, leaning back in his chair and with an air of nonchalance.

"i’m always serious,” you retort.

he reaches for and grabs your arm, pulling you into his lap. he noses at your neck, the stubble of his chin teasing over your pulse point. his mouth opens to respond, but the sound of footsteps in the hallway jolts you both into stillness. matt’s head beams up, listening, and in a second his quick reflexes have you both stepping apart, looking every bit the consummate professionals as the door opens.

“got some fresh leads on the dawson case…” foggy announces, stepping in. “ahem, am i interrupting something?” he asks, his gaze flickering between the two of you.

"no,” you and matt both reply, a little too quickly. foggy raises an eyebrow.

“right,” he says, drawing out the words with a hint of skepticism. “well, i just came to drop off these files.” he places a stack of papers on matt’s desk, his eyes lingering on the two of you a moment longer before coming to rest on the coffee cup on the ground.

"thanks, fog,” matt says, his tone casual, but you can sense a slight tension in his posture.

foggy sighs, shaking his head slightly. “you two are about as subtle as a brick through a window, you know that?” he says.

matt turns away to hide a smile, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“foggy, we’re just working,” you reply, trying to sound convincing.

"sure, sure,” foggy says. “just remember, we’ve got a lot riding on this case. so don’t, uh—work—too much,” he says, with that, he turns and leaves, closing the door behind him.

as soon as the door clicks shut, you look at matt incredulously. “matt!” before you can chide him, he gets a goofy look on his face.

“so, i uh, might have finished prepping this case last night.”

"you... wait, what?” you exclaim. the thought of him letting you ramble on while knowing the work was already done makes you shake your head. “and you let me go on about it all day?”

“guilty,” he admits. he stands up, reaching out his hand to you. “but i thought it might be nice to have an excuse to spend the day with you.” there’s something so pure and honest about his tone that it makes your heart flutter.

you shake your head but are unable to hide your smile. he holds a hand outstretched, nodding toward the exit.

you take matt’s hand, but right before you reach the door, he veers off course, pulling you into a small, rarely-used bathroom. he locks the door with a soft click, and his lips are on yours in an instant.

he picks you up with a soft grunt, sitting you on the bathroom island, hiking your skirt up until it bunches at your waist. he drops to face-level with your cunt and pulls your waist to the edge, nosing hungrily at your underwear.

“matt, are you su—” you begin, but then you stop. the small space amplifies your sound, each tiny breath and touch echoing off the walls. you instinctively cover your mouth.

as if a switch suddenly flipped in him, a low chuckle comes from between your legs, and it's him doing the chiding this time. “that’s right. wouldn’t want to get caught again, would we?”

a rough finger pulls your underwear to the side and he playfully nips at your unsuspecting folds, then molds his lips around your clit and sucks. you whine into your own palm, your legs closing on instinct, but he holds them open, impossibly strong.

“mmphf— just a quick one before we get home,” he groans, arms snaking under your open legs to wrap around them like a vice. “c’mon, sweetheart, give me more,” he grunts against you, tapping your thigh twice with his hand. you’re not sure what he’s asking at first, but then he pinches your thigh, and you yelp. you grind into his face and he groans. you catch on, working up an erratic rhythm against his stubbled chin. it doesn’t take much for you to cum like this, his tongue suctioning torturously around your sensitive clit and darting into curl against your walls, eager for a taste.

it’s unrelenting. just like the rest of him.

after you come down from your climax, he helps you stand, holding out an arm for balance as you shakily step to your feet and let your underwear and skirt drop to the floor. he then drops his hand to his own aching erection, unbuckling his belt and stepping out of his slacks and boxers. you undo his dress shirt and pull it over his shoulder and down his arm, where they catch on the muscle of his biceps.

cock freed, he shucks off his shirt, and helps you pull yours over your head, bra in tow. he pulls you near enough so that, for a moment, you’re chest-to-chest and you feel his cock pulses against your lower stomach. you’re about to lower yourself down, take him into your mouth, when he puts a hand on your waist, stilling you.

“spit on it,” he murmurs, voice impossibly low. his whole demeanor seems to have shifted in just moments, confined in a space that’s so filled with your intoxicating scent.

you comply, and watch your own spit dribble down onto his erect cock. he holds a hand under it, catching any spare saliva so he can work it over his cock.

“jesus,” he curses softly, and his other hand comes up cup your chin and thumb at your lips. for a moment, he just takes his cock and runs it across the supple skin of your stomach, the curves of your waist, then against the fat of your thighs, slapping it a few times, spreading the slick around. “you have no idea, do you? the things you do to me.”

you whine softly against the thumb at your lip. “matt, please.” you’re not sure what you’re begging for, but, as always, he knows exactly what you want.

“turn around,” he orders, and you waste no time. he nestles between your parted legs, spreading them further with his own and bending you over the counter, the head of his cock already pushing past your entrance. you gasp, pushing back but meeting resistance with his size.

“‘s alright. ha—’ he breathes. “we’re going to take care of you, kay,” he murmurs, hand guiding himself in slowly, the low timber of his voice sending shivers down your spine. he works an arm under you, and slowly bottoms out into you.

you hiss at the stretch, but before long, you’re bouncing in his lap, the sound of skin slapping on skin filling the space. he’s bigger than you, and every thrust punches another guttural sound out of you. you gasp and writhe, trying to catch your breath and adjust to the stretch and pace. you grab the counter, the sink, the mirror.

he murmurs something, but you don’t quite hear it at first.

“—push back,” he repeats, a little louder. you do, but the next thrust fills you so deep, you almost yelp out loud.

“quit running from it,” he chuckles, but his size and pace are so overpowering, your arm instinctually moves back to slow his thrusts. he grabs it instantly and folds it back over your chest.

“push—back—” he grits, pulling your hips into his thrusts. when he’s satisfied, he groans into your ear, barely muffling the sound in your hair. and then rough fingers are rubbing over your clit, circling them.

“i know, baby, i know.” he croons softly against your ear as you bite down on your forearm to keep from moaning. “you—fuck—be brave for me.”

“that’s right. you’re gonna get it nice and creamy for me.” he keeps an unrelenting pace.

“or else—“ he chuckles, patting your cunt a few times.

“i’m gonna slap this pussy raw.”

you barely mask the sob into your arm. “matt— please.”

“you can do it, you can do it,” he breathes, voice breaking and growing equally as desperate. “‘m gonna follow you, sweetie.”

you push back into him, holding your temple flush against his.

“love you so m—,” you croak. “—much.”

“oh, i love you so much too— you’re mine, you know?” he breathes, and then he says your name, the final trigger.

you grab the counter in front of you, seizing up and crying his name inaudibly as you come harder than you’ve ever come. his arms hold you, your steady anchor at sea as you forget all your surroundings.

it’s just the feeling of him coursing, thunderous and electric, through your veins.

he joins you moments after, groaning into the meat of your shoulder.

you don’t know if seconds or minutes pass. in this moment, it’s just the two of you.

you both step out of the bathroom, adjusting your attire. the office around you is silent, the usual hustle of the day having ebbed away with the setting sun. matt pauses, his heightened senses scanning the environment.

“coast is clear. foggy and karen must’ve left,” he notes. "office is empty.”

"your heightened senses come in handy," you giggle.

matt’s hand reaches for yours, fingers entwining. "they have their perks," he admits.

matt pulls you close for a moment, kissing your forehead. surveying the aftermath of your impromptu interlude—the spilled coffee, the disheveled papers—he comments, “we made quite the scene here."

you glance at the mess, a playful glint in your eye. “just working, though,” you say.

“right, ‘just working’,” he repeats with a smirk.

hand in hand, you leave the office, stepping into the cool night. the city around you is alive with lights, but in this moment, they seem to pale in comparison to the excitement still buzzing through you.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x you #x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #matt murdock fluff #bun’s #bunny brain

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queenshelby · 5 months

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Business As Usual (Part Six)

Pairing: Dark!Thomas Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning: Arranged Marriage, Angst, Cheating

NOTE: THIS IS MUCH DARKER THAN WHAT I USUALLY WRITE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

During the drive, you distracted yourself from the pain by discussing what happened and why. You wanted to know whether your family was working against you and Shelby Company Limited and, much to your surprise, your husband admitted that certain members of your family strayed from the original agreement between your respective families. They had put you and Tommy's family into grave danger and Tommy told you that he would not stand for it.

Then, after a short drive, you arrived at the hospital. The building was a maze of corridors and staircases, filled with medical staff bustling about their duties. Despite the circumstances, you found solace in the familiar smell of disinfectant that hung heavy in the air.

The doctor attending to you was a woman named Dr. Miller. She was kind and compassionate, offering small smiles of encouragement throughout the procedure. You winced as she removed the bullet from your arm, but her soothing voice kept you grounded, helping you endure the excruciating pain with Tommy by your side.

His presence brought comfort, yet it heightened the sense of betrayal that lingered between you, and you were unsure by this point as to whom you could trust.

He was there, yet he seemed miles away; distant, detached. You noticed that in his posture, his voice, his mannerisms—even his scent, masked by the sterile hospital environment.

"Considering the circumstances and the fact that you are currently with child, I recommend that you stay here for the night, Mrs Shelby," Dr. Miller suggested gently but you hesitated and shook your head.

"No, please, I want to go home," you insisted, your voice quivering with the weight of the events that had taken place. With everything that had transpired, you did not feel safe at a public place like this, but Tommy reassured you that he would arrange for appropriate security, even if you were to decide to stay at the hospital.

"You should stay here Love. You need to rest, and you most certainly need proper medical care, eh," he insisted, running a tender finger up and down your arm, a light touch that sent chills down your spine. His sudden tenderness surprised you as, ever since you were forced to marry one another, he had been rather cold towards you, and yet, you shook your head and pulled your arm away from him.

"As I said Thomas, I want to go home," you repeated, this time more sternly and with a glare thrown in his direction. "You either drive me back to Arrow House or I will make alternate arrangements," you said while watching as the muscles in Tommy's jaw visibly tensed and clenched, a sure sign that he was annoyed by your obstinacy.

"Fine," he grumbled reluctantly, casting a brief glance at the nurse stationed near the entrance to your room. "I'll take you home. But you must promise me to rest, eh?" Tommy demanded and you hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement.

"Mr Shelby, with respect, I strongly advise that your wife stays overnight for observation," Dr. Miller reiterated her suggestion, a firm conviction echoing in her voice but Tommy explained to her that you were determined to leave.

"I will arrange for her to be monitored at home by one of your nurses," he told her before producing a bundle of cash from his pocket and placing it discreetly on the counter.

Dr. Miller casted a questioning glance at Tommy and then at her nurse, silently communicating the unspoken agreement.

"Very well, Mr Shelby," she conceded reluctantly while accepting the payment without batting an eyelid. "I will send Nurse Dawson over to administer medication and monitor your wife's condition. Please remember that she needs complete rest and should avoid stress at all costs."

"Thank you, Doctor," Tommy responded curtly before guiding you out of the ward.

You glanced back at the enigmatic doctor, who gave you a warm smile and a nod, wishing you a speedy recovery. Once you were seated in the car, Tommy fastened your seatbelt carefully, his expression softening as he studied your face. "Are you alright, Love?" he asked softly, concern evident in his voice.

You swallowed thickly, fighting back the tears welling up in your eyes. "I am fine," you croaked, raising a weak hand to wipe away the stinging wetness accumulating near your right eye.

You'd always been tough, steeling yourself against whatever life threw at you, but the relentless strain of recent months had worn you thin.

A gentle nod was your only response, the understanding in Thomas's eyes mirroring the pain in yours. It was difficult to believe that just hours earlier, you'd been embroiled in a dangerous standoff, armed with pistols and ready to strike down your enemies. Now, as you sat quietly in the passenger seat, your thoughts drifted back to the turbulent three months that had transformed your life irrevocably.

The car accelerated smoothly through the foggy streets of Birmingham, weaving effortlessly through patches of damp road. You stole a sideways glance at Tommy, only to find him gazing out onto the rain-slicked pavement, lost in his musings.

The tension between you was palpable, the air thick with unsaid words and pent-up emotions. A single tear trickled down your cheek, mingling with the sweat on your skin. You reached up and wiped it away with the back of your hand, hoping desperately that Tommy wouldn't notice your distress.

You wanted to seem strong and unbreakable, uncaring about what he had done to you, but holding up this kind of facade had become increasingly difficult.

Every time you blinked, you could see his betrayal staring back at you like a slap in the face. He slept with the enemy, cheating on you and you wished for things to go back to the way they used to be before you were thrown into this life. When the first few weeks had passed after your marriage, you thought that maybe things would change some day, but you had been foolish to think that someone like Tommy Shelby could ever change.

Just like you, he pretended to be invincible. The veneer that protected him from real feelings seemed cracked now though, and underneath lay raw nerves. His eyes flashed, and he gripped the steering wheel harder. The Bentley purred along the roads of Birmingham, cutting through the misty weather like a hot knife through butter. In the dim light, his profile was illuminated by the dashboard lights, showing a man wrestling with inner demons.

Then, suddenly, he pulled over at quiet intersection, near an abandoned estate before parking the Bentley under a tree.

You were startled, and your eyes widened as the engine cut off. You could feel the awkward silence filling the air between you. The wind whistled loudly, causing the trees to sway.

"We need to talk," Tommy said, his voice breaking the uncomfortable silence. He opened the car door and helped you step out. He guided you towards an old wooden bench sitting under the shelter of a sturdy oak tree.

The bench creaked under your weight as you sat down gingerly, wincing from the residual pain in your arm.

You glanced sideways at Tommy, noticing his troubled expression.

"What exactly did you mean by 'we need to talk'?" you asked cautiously, sensing the seriousness of the conversation to come. "And why here?" you wondered, and Tommy's shoulders stiffened visibly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he gathered his thoughts.

"Because I feel as though someone is listening to us, in my own fucking house," Tommy growled before offering you a cigarette, an offer which you declined. "Love, I know I have made mistakes..." he then trailed off, his voice cracking under the weight of his guilt.

"You have. You betrayed me and you cheated on me," you interrupted bluntly, refusing to sugarcoat the truth.

Your tone was accusatory, carrying the weight of a betrayed spouse. The words tasted bitter on your tongue, but you refused to shy away from confronting the issue head-on.

Tommy flinched noticeably, his grip tightening on the armrest. He looked down, avoiding direct eye contact. "I know," he murmured quietly, shame coloring his cheeks. "I was...confused. Things got complicated and I..." he began to say before inhaling sharply. "You were forced to marry me, and I tried to honor our arrangement after the night we shared, but in order to protect you from your own fucking family, I couldn't. I had to ensure that you were not involved in any of my business deals knowing that you were pregnant with my child, and you hated me for that. So, tell me Y/N, how could you have possibly expected us to be anything other than fucking acquaintances, eh? You don't love me. You were forced to be with me and I was not going to live to honor my vows with a woman who shows no fucking interest in me and no fucking respect either," Tommy explained, his voice heavy with resentment, though his words carried a certain amount of justified bitterness. He had done everything he could to protect you from your own family's devious schemes. They were planning to sacrifice you for personal gain and screwing over the gang in which you were now involved. What more could you have possibly expected from him?

"As soon as I figured out your uncle's plan, I realized that you were a liability to me, and that fact alone made me distance myself from you, not out of hatred, but because I wanted to protect our child," Tommy continued, his voice softer now.

"So why did you sleep with Laura Manning then? What did she have to do with protecting our child?" you countered, still unconvinced that his intentions were pure. There was no denying that Tommy was a complex individual, capable of displaying immense kindness and compassion while simultaneously engaging in brutal acts of violence. You couldn't quite wrap your head around his motives, and it frustrated you to no end.

Tommy hesitated, his brow furrowed in concentration. "For the same reason I sleep with whores Y/N," he confessed, his voice strained and laden with regret. "To get some fucking release, after a long day of handling business" he added, before taking a deep breath and, immediately, you slapped him across the face.

The sound of flesh connecting with flesh echoed loudly in the chilly night air. He flinched, surprised by your sudden reaction but not entirely unprepared. The sting of your palm burned against yours, the intensity of your anger shocking even you but, what you did next, came more of a surprise to him than anything before.

"You are being selfish Thomas, seeking release outside your marriage after all you did to me," you told him while reaching for his belt buckle, you undid it swiftly, and then slid his zipper down, before he could utter a word.

"Fuck!" he gasped, his eyes wide in shock as you slid your hand beneath his briefs.

You leaned forward, wrapping your hands around his shaft and squeezing firmly. His cock throbbed in your grasp, swelling larger under your skilled fingers.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he stammered, struggling to form coherent sentences while being confused by your actions while trying to stop you.

"Quiet!" you snapped, squeezing him tighter. "I am your wife and I need you to remember exactly that," you spoke swiftly while his eyes went wide as saucers, mouth hanging open, but he bit down hard on his lip to suppress an audible groan when you stroked him expertly. Each stroke of your fingers teased his erection, causing it to grow thicker and longer. You knew how to handle a man, how to manipulate him, and how to please him in ways he hadn't experienced before.

"No more whores!" you shouted, grabbing Tommy's erection even tighter. "No more fucking other women!" you snarled, pumping his cock faster. "I'm it, Tommy! Only me!" you told him before adjusting your position in order to take off your undergarments.

"I am your fucking wife and I expect you to treat and respect me as such," you said angrily before reaching beneath your skirt and slipping your panties off.

You straddled Tommy, your knees pressing against his thighs and your moist pussy brushing against the head of his cock.

"Y/N," he protested feebly, his voice hoarse and trembling and, before he could say anything else, you pressed your index finger onto his lips.

"Ssh," you cooed seductively, grinding your hips against his groin, but Tommy would not relent.

"Please, Y/N," he pleaded weakly, trying to push you away. "You're too delicate to handle me right now. You are injured and traumatized," he reminded you calmly, but you shook your head.

"That's just it, Tommy," you purred, gripping his erection tightly before guiding it to your entrance. "I'm not delicate. Not anymore," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the rustling leaves overhead.

"I know what you want, Tommy. What you need," you told him, your voice husky with desire. You felt him squirm beneath you, his cock growing impossibly harder against your sensitive flesh.

"And I'm going to give it to you at my discretion," you moaned, grinding your pussy against his swollen member. "Understand?" you asked while Tommy whimpered softly, arching his neck to lick your lips hungrily, but you pulled away, leaving him wanting more.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with lust and pleading. "Please..." he begged but you shook your head, teasing him with your eyes.

"You've got to prove yourself to me, Tommy," you smirked wickedly, rubbing your pelvis against his throbbing erection. "Show me that you're worth my time, effort, and affection."

He frowned, his brows knitting together in frustration. "How?" he asked, desperate for a way to appease you.

"Well," you purred, cupping his cheek. "First of all, you will give me authority to handle the liquor export division. I want you to give me full control over it and not interfere unless absolutely necessary."

Tommy stared at you in disbelief before heaving a sigh. "I'll consider it," he agreed reluctantly, following which he asked what else it was that you wanted.

The air between you crackled with tension, the scent of sex and desperation mingling to create an intoxicating blend. You knew that you had him hooked, and now it was time to reel him in.

"Secondly," you continued, leaning closer to his ear. "If, what you told me is true, I want you to help me get rid of my uncle and his acquaintances. They pose a threat to our family, and I won't tolerate it. Understand?" you asked, seeing that it was them who put you into harm's way and, without giving it a second thought, Tommy nodded. "Agreed," he muttered gruffly, his voice barely audible.

He was caught in your web, ensnared by your demands and desires and you licked your lips, savoring the taste of power and dominance before making your final demand.

"Finally, I want you to stop sleeping around," you stated bluntly. "From now on, you're mine and only mine. Agreed?" you asked and Tommy pursed his lips, contemplating your request.

After a few moments of silent deliberation, he nodded slowly. "Agreed," he said softly, his voice cracking slightly. "No more whores," he muttered, and you smiled triumphantly, feeling empowered by your newfound control over him.

"Good boy," you cooed, planting a fleeting kiss on his lips before, finally, lowering yourself on to his hardness.

"Oh, God, yes," he moaned, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. "I'm...I'm yours, Love," he gasped, his voice hoarse and broken as he felt your flesh surrounding his hardness.

You chuckled softly, feeling satisfied with your victory. "Yes, you are," you purred before you began to ride him.

You took his cock inside you with agonizing slowness, relishing the sensation of being filled by him. You let out a soft cry of pleasure as your walls tightened around his thickness.

"You feel so fucking good," Tommy moaned, thrusting his hips upward to meet each of your downward strokes. You reveled in the sensation of being impaled by him, his erection pulsating within you.

Each movement drove you wild, your juices flowing freely, lubricating your passage. You wrapped your arms around his neck, anchoring yourself as you bounced on top of him.

"You see, you could have had this all along, Thomas" you panted, your voice ragged and hoarse.

Tommy's eyes narrowed, his breathing becoming labored. "I promise to make it up to you Love," he murmured, his voice shaking slightly.

"We shall see," you replied coolly, your gaze locked on his.

With each stroke, you grew more confident, knowing that you held the reins.

"I am close," Tommy muttered, his voice strained and breathless.

You smirked, enjoying the power you wielded over him as, suddenly, you pulled away and slid off his lap.

"Well," you drawled, standing up and dusting off your skirt nonchalantly and picking up your panties from the dirty floor. "Maybe I will let you have your release later, if you behave yourself."

Your words hit him like a punch in the gut, and you saw the hunger in his eyes intensify tenfold.

Tommy simply sighed, his gaze fixated on your every move. You knew that you had him where you wanted him. His cock twitched impatiently, yearning for release, but you decided to tease him further.

"Get up," you command, and he does so immediately, his movements swift and obedient. "When we get back to Arrow House, you will call Boston and introduce me as the new export liaison. Then, after that, we will go to OUR bedroom and you will fuck me like a good husband fucks his wife. Understood?" you asked him, your voice low and seductive.

"Yes, Love," he breathed, his heart thumping wildly in his chest and you arched an eyebrow, your lips quirking upwards mischievously. "Do you?" you challenged, stepping closer to him.

The scent of your perfume wafted towards him, intoxicating and alluring.

"Let's go home, Tommy," you murmured, reaching out to trace your fingertips down his arm and he shivered, goosebumps erupting on his skin.

He had never seen you like this - commanding, dominant, and utterly fearless. You had somehow managed to turn your situation around, seizing control and positioning yourself as the puppet master. And he was your willing marionette, dancing to your tune.

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saturnville · 1 month

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bite, l. hamilton

pairing: he (lewis hamilton) x black best friend oc (anvika dawson) content: in which two friends cross a line people have been waiting for them to cross. warning: 18+ content song: bite by njzoma an: y'all know I don't write smut fr, so ntm. but I hope y'all enjoy it. wc: 2,498 tags: the girlies who were hyping me up to post this @boujiestpoet @mauvecherie-writes @saintslewis @greedyjudge2 @vile-harlot @emjayewrites

“Just because we’re attracted to one another doesn’t mean we need to sleep together. I’m off that. Plus, we’re friends.”

Anvika prided herself on being a woman of self-control and discipline. Though it did not come easy, years of abstinence grew dreary and at times, very lonely, her hard work was not something she was willing to risk. Her decision to step into abstinence wasn’t one she took lightly, nor was it one that she planned, but once Anvika began the journey of healing from a heartbreak, intimacy with another man wasn’t the priority. Though that had been over four years ago and she was well over the situation, she could admit that while it was difficult to maintain her self-control, not having to worry about anyone’s snot-nosed son brought more peace than she could ever imagine.

“Even more of a reason to let it happen. Everything happens better when you have a solid foundation first. Everybody thinks you two are together anyways. He truly cares for you, in more ways than one.”

Anvika hummed and rolled her eyes as she brought the slender champagne fluke to her full lips. The liquid went smooth down her throat. She shrugged. “Then let them think that. Lewis is a good man, a good and attractive man, but…”

Her friend, Onyx, sighed and downed her drink with a wave of her hand. “I don’t know how you do it! I would’ve lost my mind by now. I commend you.” Onyx bowed playfully which pulled a light laugh from Anvika. Though she was joking, she couldn’t help but sense the truth behind her words.

Though swearing off men and intimacy had become a more common practice among women, many people found it taboo and unrealistic. She soon began to ponder--what if she’d never find anyone that could give her what she wanted because of how she chose to navigate her dating life? She shook it off internally. That would be a problem, but none that would be hers.

Before she got the chance to respond, her phone rang against the glass table that held their expensive lunch on it’s back. LH flashed across the screen. She smiled softly which caught the attention of Onyx, who gave a teasing smirk. For someone who was insistant on keeping a strong boundary between herself and her closest friend, she surely smiled like a fool whenever he called.

“I told you I have a lunch date with Onyx today,” she reminded the racer lowly, using her index finger to draw doodles in the condensation her water glass sweat off on the table. “Everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine, angel,” he spoke smoothly. “Just wanted to make sure you were still wanting to join me for the event on Friday.” Anvika hummed and nodded as though he could see her. He was attending a gala in London and of course, offered his plus-one to Anvika, as he had done since their friendship had begun years prior. What was his, was hers, including access to rooms and events that would grant her opportunities to further her career as a branding and marketing consultant.

“Yes,” she replied excitedly. “I still haven’t found a dress. What color are you wearing?”

There was shuffling in the background before he spoke again. “Blue. Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle it.” Her heart fluttered. “Enjoy your lunch. Tell Onyx I said hello and call me later, alright?”

Anvika’s teeth trapped her bottom lip. “Alright. Talk soon.”

“Bye, love.”

Anvika turned her phone on its face and looked up, catching Onyx’s playful eyes. Her thick eyebrow touched her forehead. “Friends, right?” Anvika gave her a look. Onyx raised her hands in defense, “My bad, my bad.”

Lewis Hamilton was a gentleman. Sure, this was universal knowledge, but something about him being gentlemanly with her made her heart flutter and her stomach clench with desire. And it almost made her question Onyx’s point, “he truly cares for you; in more ways than one.” It’d typically be something she’d deny, but as she stood in front of the mirror with her hair done by a hairstylist he arranged to come, her nails done by a nail technician he’d flown out, and a dress he arranged to be custom-made to suit her body, how could she deny it any longer?

“Don’t think too deeply into it,” she scolded herself, slipping out of her robe. She walked toward her dress, pulled it off the hanger, and carefully slipped into it. “You’re friends. Close friends who care for one another. That’s it, that’s all.”

They met at the paddock six years prior. She was invited to her first Formula One race through her consultant agency, which took her team on an all-expense paid trip for their hard work. She wasn’t aware of Formula One, just of familiar names. Then, at the end of the match, she had the chance to put a face to the infamous name of Lewis Hamilton.

“You raced well,” Anvika noted, taking in the slightly disheveled appearance of the raceman. “I’ve never been to a Formula One race; good job on giving me a reason to come back one day.”

The man’s eyebrow raised in interest. He crossed his arms over his chest, his muscular build on display. “Is that so?”

Anvika nodded.

“We can make that happen whenever you want.”

It was Anvika’s turn to raise an eyebrow. A smirk played on her lips. “Is that so? Tryna be my friend, Lewis?”

He shrugged his shoulders. Friends wasn’t too bad. Anything to get to know her. “Any man would be a fool to refuse that opportunity, Anvika.”

That marked the beginning of an inseparable union.

Anvika continued to mumble and grumble, doing whatever she could to keep her mind eased. Her self-conversations were halted by a knock on her door. Lewis. “Coming!” Holding her dress to her chest. She turned the doorknob, and the familiar scent of his cologne filled her nose. “Are you…oh. Oh.”

Closing the door behind him, Lewis’ eyes were trained on her, the most beautiful woman he’d laid eyes on. The dress, complementary to his suit, was perfectly designed and tailored to her. She was a fan of long-sleeved dresses, so that’s what she got. It was constructed with a heavy, luxurious velvet material and it hugged every riff, edge, and curve on her body. The neckline showed the swell of her breasts and her beautiful collarbone. The mermaid-like tail further accentuated her shape.

Her hair was parted to the side and curled to perfection. The makeup complimented her features--thick eyebrows, full lips, and a round nose. And her scent, goodness, it suffocated him. The jasmine and almond notes filled his nostrils and he wanted to nuzzle his face in her neck and inhale like she was the air he needed to breathe.

“You look beautiful,” Lewis managed to speak. His voice was so low that she almost didn’t hear his compliment. With a bashful smile, she thanked him and led him to her room where she wandered toward the bathroom, which had a series of jewels across the counter. “Help me pick a necklace?”

Anvika turned to face the jewelry and fought hard to ignore the heat that radiated from Lewis’ body as he moved to stand behind her. From over her shoulder, his eyes followed the line of jewels the stylists brought. His eyes landed on a silver necklace; a thin chain with a multi-carat teardrop diamond. “This one.”

Lewis took the necklace in his hands and placed it around her neck. Anvika lifted her hair to grant him easy access and shivered as his cool fingertips brushed against her skin. She inhaled deeply. “Stunning.” His breath was warm against her neck. They locked eyes in the mirror ahead of them. The tension was thick. Suffocating. His brown eyes, usually so full of love and warmth, were filled with something she couldn’t quite identify, but it made her body heat like wildfire.

“I’m ready,” she announced, careful not to let her voice waver. She turned, purposefully ignoring the groan he released when she brushed against him. Her lips quivered as she tried to give a steady smile. What the hell was happening between them? Anvika placed her hands on his chest and soothed the non-existent wrinkles on his suit jacket. He was so handsome. “You look great, darling.”

“Thank you…” his words came out as a whisper. He was too distracted by her. Six years of friendship and what he felt from the time he met her at the paddock all those years ago had reached a breaking point. He’d boiled over.

Anvika tried to smile as she pressed a kiss against his cheek, but with how he reacted, her lips landed at the corner of his lips. She took a step back. “Let’s get ready to go, yeah?”

Lewis swallowed thickly. He held his arm out for her, which she grabbed instinctively, and together, they were out the door with a million and one thoughts swimming between them.

“And that beauty you’ve brought?” an older man questioned Lewis, who had his eyes on Anvika as she danced through the siloes of people in the room. The gala was nothing short of a popularity function, a random event on a random weekend for the host to flaunt their money and connections, Truthfully, his desire to attend dwindled once he saw her in that dress. She was the only thing on his mind.

“Anvika Dawson,” Lewis said, nodding in her direction. “One of the best branding and marketing consultants in the industry. She’s amazing at everything she does. You’ve got a business, don’t you?” And that’s why he was a good friend, Anvika noted as she began to walk over, hearing him advocate for her in front of the man.

“You flatter me,” she said with a smile as she took a position under Lewis’ arm, which slid around her waist. “Anvika Dawson, nice to meet you.”

The older man, who had went by the nam Eli, shook her hand firmly and nodded in interest. “Well, pardon me, but the two of you would make a wonderful couple.” The young adult chuckled lightly; the comment was nothing new to them, but it seemed to bring them both discomfort given the fact that they had a very intimate moment just an hour before their arrival. Before Lewis could speak up, Anvika thanked the man sweetly then they were whisked in another direction.

They were joined together at the hip for the remainder of the evening. And, on the rare occasion that they were apart, they stole glances from across the room like teenagers in a romantic sitcom. Soon, the event wrapped up and they were in the backseat of the car, sitting in a thick silence.

Anvika sat at the right of the car, her knees turned inward and her legs crossed. With every bump in the road and swerve of the car, the tip of her heel brushed against Lewis’ leg. His breath hitched. She said nothing.

The car came to an abrupt stop and the doors were opened for them. Before her foot could touch the ground, Lewis’ hand was awaiting. “Thank you,” Anvika said softly, and allowed him to guide her into the hotel.

He still hadn’t said much. The walk to the elevator was quiet, yet, he hadn’t let go of her hand. What was he thinking about? If it was the sudden shift in their interactions, it didn’t go unnoticed by her either.

The elevator doors peeled open and Lewis guided her in. He pressed the button, 10, that would send them to the floor their rooms were on. The elevator ride seemed slow as each ding indicated they’d entered another floor.

Anvika cleared her throat and decided to speak up, “I enjoyed tonight. And again, you looked great. I love blue on you.”

He couldn’t remember what happened between her compliment, her back against the elevator wall, and his lips on hers. The only thing that forced him to key in was her hands pressing against his abdomen and his name falling from her lips. “Lewis…” What he’d heard time and time again in his dreams had finally become a reality. His stomach churned; could he get her to say it again? “What are you…” She cut herself off when she fell victim to the wonderful feeling of his lips against her jaw.

“I just…” Lewis settled his face in her neck. “One night, Vi. Let me have one night with you…” Her heart pounded in her ears. What the hell was happening?

“Lewis…” Her hand slipped and fell just above his belt. She extended her arm just slightly. “We can’t do this. I-I don’t want to mess up our friendship and you know I’m not going all the way with anyone--”

Lewis hummed. His eyes sat low as he looked at her. She looked completely worn out as if he’d done to her what he truly wanted. Her forehead glistened with sweat, her lipstick was smeared, and her chest heaved. “Nothing will change for the worse, angel. And I don’t want to go there with you, just want to make you feel good…always have.” His left arm circled around her waist and his large hand palmed her backside. She whimpered. “Can I?”

“Someone might see...”

He ignored her. “Can I make you feel good?” His tone was stern as he repeated his question. Suddenly, the gala was out of her mind and the only thing that clouded her thoughts was him. Him and him only. Lewis Hamilton had infiltrated her mind and she finally stopped fighting it.

The elevator dinged. “Yes…”

“Should I…?” her hands reached for the necklace that shone beneath the dim lights of the hotel suite. Lewis shook his head and peeled his jacket off his shoulders, revealing a crisp white wife beater. He shed that too. Anvika’s breath hitched. “Keep it on. Lay back for me, angel.”

Anvika looked like an angel surrounded by the comforter. Her undergarments were long discarded, save for her underwear which he kept in the pocket of his pants. The pure white of the sheets were a stark contrast to the richness of her complexion. Her hair was sprawled against the pillow with a few strands covering her face lazily. The look on her face was one of comfort, relief in one way or another.

She welcomed Lewis’ body between her legs as he crawled on the bed and his lips against hers as he hovered above her. For the first time that night, Anvika’s hands didn’t tremble when she touched him. She welcomed the feeling of every ridge of muscle, every raised scar, and every mature tattoo.

Their hands moved frantically over each other’s body, and it felt amazing. She hadn’t realized how touch deprived she was until she heard his chuckle in her ear. Her face warmed. She felt like a teenager. “It’s okay…” his lips ghosted against the shell of her ear. “Make all the noise you want.”

Anvika didn’t respond--her mouth wouldn’t allow her to. As Lewis moved down her body, she sat on her elbows, watching and waiting. God, he was so handsome like this. His head was dipped between her thighs and his tattooed glistened under the dim lights. Slowly, he lips created an intentional trail from her belly down to the treasure just centimeters away from his mouth.

Her fingers clawed at the bedsheets as the anticipation rose. She was becoming impatient. He was giving attention to every other place except where he wanted her. She huffed. “Lewis…”

He hummed, clearly unbothered by her frustration. He glanced at her, “Yes?” She whimpered. “Talk to me.” He was amused, very amused. She was desperate for him. It was evident by the way her arousal seeped onto the bed. He gathered some on his fingers, using it as a lubricant as he finally began to touch her.

Anvika gasped. His movements were slow and meticulated but they were enough to set her over the edge. He brought his lips to hers again, which she accepted sloppily. Her jaw fell slack as he continued to work her to her first release of the night. It came quickly, quicker than she would have liked. When his fingers hit that spot within her, her hips jerked and she squeaked his name.

Lewis chuckled, “That’s it?” He prodded that spot again. “Right there?” Anvika nodded. He removed his fingers. She groaned in frustration, “Lewis, please!”

“Please what?” He brought his fingers to his lips and moaned at the taste of her on his tongue. If this was just the beginning, he couldn’t imagine how mad he’d go in the coming moments. “Tell me what you want.”

She clocked it. He wanted her to beg. Anvika wasn’t the begging type. She may have been far removed from having sex, but she always got her way, especially with Lewis. Her hands trailed down the muscular planes of his stomach. Her fingers hooked in his belt and pulled him forward. Her fingers curled around his neck and her nails toyed with the faded hair there. She brought her smeared lips to his ear, her tongue dancing against the shell of it. He shudder. “I want you to make my legs shake and rock my world. Can you do that, Lewis?”

Her voice. The way her voice dropped in octave but increased in seduction had his head spinning. There were a few moments of silence as he fought hard to gather himself and the more she spurred him on, the most difficult it became. But then, she heard it, “Yes…”

“Right there, right there! Oh my…” He was a lover of music. Being in a studio, creating melodies to go with lyrics, was his favorite pastime. But this took the cake. She created her a song better than he could have ever imagined, and was it addicting.

Her moans, cries, and screams were melodic and his name was the only lyric she knew. He hated repetition in music, but loved hearing hers. So addicting. So well created. So beautiful.

Her legs trembled around his head and her hands were buried in his braids. He fought the urge to bend her over when she whispered out the faintest, “Baby, please…” She’d used terms of endearment before, but in this context, it was different. “I’m close!”

Her body, damp with sweat and covered in bruises created by his mouth, jumped and jolted as she grew closer to her peak. Lewis sat up, replacing his tongue with his highly skilled fingers. He used his arm to stabilize his body as he hovered over her. What a sight.

Her hair was completely sweated out, pooped and frizzy at the roots. Her makeup stained the pillows and her lips were swollen from her biting and his intense kisses. Her neck was dark with love bites. Her eyelids were hooded but he could see the fire behind her eyes. If only he could capture her and keep the picture in his pocket forever.

“Doing so well for me,” he whispered, kissing against her cheek and jaw. His fingers made quick work of the huddle of nerves between her legs. “Taking it like a good girl.” Her moans grew louder, higher in pitch, and full of air. It was becoming too much—her hands pushed against his arm, trying to run. “Don’t run now. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Lewis, I’m—“ she cut herself off with a high pitched scream that seemed to ring on forever. Lewis chuckled lightly and worked her through her orgasm. “That’s it, baby.” Her body shook as she tried to come down calmly.

He spent a few minutes between her legs, caressing her gently as an act of comfort. Her loud noises had diminished to soft whimpers as she came down from cloud nine. When she finally opened her eyes again, he asked, “You okay?”

She was better than okay. Though they didn’t cross all the lines, Anvika had gotten the best orgasm she’d received in her life from a man’s mouth and hands. She’d deal with the consequences later, but in that moment, she felt amazing.

She nodded and smiled lazily. “I’m okay. Are you…do you want me to…?” Her eyes fell to the evident bulge that strained against his pants. He shook his head.

“I’m okay. Let’s get you cleaned up…”

What was supposed to be a shower to clean her up resulted in her on her knees giving him the most intense release he’d experienced in months. It left him panting, shaking, and whimpering like it was his first time all over again.

Once again, she looked angelic with her now curly hair flat against her back and big brown eyes staring at him as she worked him like the expert she was. He came in her with with a groan, his fingers in her hair. She stood to her feet, smiling innocently as she showed him there was no remnant of him left in her mouth.

“You’re nasty,” he announced, grabbing her jaw to place a sloppy kids on her lips.

“Mhmmm, just the way I like it.”

They migrated to her bed shortly after, laying together in a comfortable silence. Anvika’s head was against his bare chest and herfingers traced the tattoos on his body. Lewis’ arm was around her waist and his hand massaged her plump bottom.

They were tired, exhausted even. But, they fought sleep like children, internally afraid of what the morning would bring. All actions had consequences whether good or bad. It was a mutual hope that what they’d done wouldn’t bring on the latter.

“Lewis?” Anvika called after some time.

“Yes, angel?”

“Are we gonna be okay?” Her voice trembled slightly. They’d crossed a line--a big one. She had wobbled on her boundaries. There was a lot to discuss and a lot to consider. It was an amazing experience, she couldn’t lie, but her biggest fear was that she’d lose him as an important person in her life if reality didn’t set in the way they intended.

Lewis gave her a squeeze and brought his lips to her forehead. Sensing her worry, he reassured, “We’ll always be okay.” And she believed it.

#saturnville #black!reader #black reader #original writing #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton fanfic #f1 x black!reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula one #formula 1

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heavenlyhischier · 10 months

Text

𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫 | 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫

word count: 5.1k (oopsie)

summary: moving to new jersey brought more than a change of scenery to your life

warnings: angsty a lil bit, mentions drinking, drunk nico; unedited (pls let me know if you see any mistakes)

Moving to New Jersey, away from all of your family, seemed like a good idea at the time. In fact, you would even go as far as to say it was the best idea you’ve ever had, but that was until you had to haul all of your boxes and various items up to your new apartment all by yourself. You were deeply regretting the offer that your brothers had extended multiple times to come up and help you move in, but you insisted that you were a big girl and could do it all by yourself.

Luckily the elevator was working, but that didn’t help when it came to the boxes and furniture items that were so heavy you couldn’t even move them around in the truck. You had gotten all of the boxes that you could carry alone up to your apartment, but that left you standing outside the truck, staring into it as you tried to figure out just how in the hell you were going to get it all inside.

“You alright,” A voice called out from your left.

Not looking away from the job in front of you, you responded, “No. I’m about to just leave all of this in the truck and whoever can move it, can just have it. It’s too heavy for me. I’ve given up.”

The deep sigh you let out was masked by multiple airy laughs. You jerked your head to where their voices were coming from, and your eyes landed on a group of guys who were all huddled together. They were watching you with amused smiles, but you were too focused on the dark haired one to really pay attention to the others. His dark eyes met your own, and you could have sworn time stopped. He was the most attractive man you’ve ever seen with his soft eyes and floppy brown hair.

“Would you like some help,” He suggested, eyes unwavering from your own. God, he had an accent. You’re thankful your knees didn’t buckle as soon as he spoke.

“Oh no,” You quickly denied, vigorously shaking your head as you waved your hand at them, “You all are clearly hanging out. I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not,” The younger one with bright blue eyes spoke up, “Don’t worry.”

The four boys ignored your protests, moving around you to pick up the boxes and heavy pieces that were left in the truck. They stood in front of you, arms full and faces determined as they waited for you to lead the way. You let out a quiet huff, yet turned towards the building and held the door for them. You walked ahead, falling into a conversation with a guy you now know as Dawson.

Stepping off the elevator, you led the group of hockey players, information you gained courtesy of Dawson, towards your apartment. You heard Jack mutter something along the lines of ‘dude you’ve got a hot neighbor’ to one of the others, but you didn’t turn around to see who. Still, your cheeks flushed at his comment as you pushed the door open.

“We’ll bring the rest of your stuff up here,” Nico informed you after placing his box on the floor next to the kitchen, “You look like you could use a break.”

Suddenly, you were hyper aware of how much of a mess you probably looked like. Your hair had been sloppily thrown into a bun, and you could feel the stickiness on your neck and forehead from the sweat. You threw your glance down to the ground, crossing your arms across your chest as a way to hide yourself. Unfortunately, Nico picked up on your sudden shift in demeanor and was quick to act.

“No no,” He rushed out, delicately grabbing your elbow, “I mean that there’s already a ton of stuff up here that you moved by yourself.”

“Right,” You bashfully let out, still avoiding his stare. You should’ve known better than to assume he was picking at your appearance, but a part of you couldn’t help it.

After the boys had gotten all of your stuff out of the truck, they invited you over to Nico’s apartment, which was conveniently located right next to yours. You politely declined their offer, sputtering out some excuse about how you wanted to get some of your stuff unpacked and then just go to sleep. Truthfully, you needed time to yourself so you could call your best friend back home and tell her about your hot new hockey playing neighbor.

Days came and went and you only saw Nico once as he was leaving for practice and you were coming home from work. You had exchanged formal pleasantries and went on your own ways, the interaction leaving you wanting to see him again even more so than the first time you met him. Though it seemed as if the universe had other plans and you didn’t run into him at all, until you found yourself knocking on his door.

You nervously rocked back and forth on your heels, hands clasped behind your back as you waited for someone to open the door. Blowing out the air you had pockets in your cheeks, you glanced around the hallway before turning to go back to your apartment. You knew him being home was a long shot with the season starting soon, but you wanted to give it a try.

You heard the door click open, Nico calling out your name shortly after. His voice halted your movements as he slightly stepped out of his apartment, “Is everything okay?”

You spun back around, eyes landing on him as he leaned against his doorframe. You couldn’t help but admire the way his shirt hugged at his biceps in a way that made it look tailored to him. His sweatpants, his gray sweatpants, tight on his thighs. His hair was messy and unkept, but he still looked beautiful. You’re surprised you’re not drooling at this point.

“Um yeah,” You coughed, lightly shaking your head to rid yourself of the not so appropriate thoughts you were having of the man in front of you, “I was just going to ask for your help putting this couch together. They brought it up but I didn’t realize I would have to assemble it and I don’t really know what I’m doing. But it’s okay if you’re busy! You know what- you’re probably busy, I'm sorry. I can figure it out.”

Embarrassment crept up your neck as you rattled off words at record speed, your cheeks flushing and eyes darting back towards the ground as you turned back to your apartment. Nico’s infectious laughter bounced across the empty halls as he called out for you again, but this time you heard the click of his own door shutting and the sounds of his feet across the wooden floor.

“Of course I can help you,” He assured as he neared you, his lips turned upwards into a kind smile.

“Are you sure,” You hesitated, hand hovering over your door handle as you turned your head.

His hand came to gently grip your shoulder, his expression unwavering as he spoke, “I’ll always be available to help you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words and his touch, stomach filling with butterflies as you averted your gaze so that he couldn’t see the way your cheeks and neck flushed. It was a little embarrassing that someone you’ve barely known had such an effect on you, but there was no turning back now. You let him into your apartment, gesturing to the lump of half opened boxes that held the contents of your couch in it. A part of you felt stupid for not knowing what to do, but another part of you was more than okay with it because you got to see Nico again.

“That’s a big couch,” He joked, eyes flitting from you to the boxes.

“Yeah,” You mumbled, “My mom was convinced that I needed the biggest sectional in the world I guess.”

“Well, we better get started then.”

The two of you fell into a conversation that flowed so naturally that it was almost as if you had known each other for years. He had asked you about your family and your hometown, and you asked about his. You listened intently as he told you about his love for hockey, raving about his team and how much they mean to him. His passion for the game and the way he talked about his teammates made your heart swell, and your determination to give yourself the best life possible made him all the more attracted to you.

After about an hour, the two of you had managed to successfully assemble the three piece couch you’re almost positive would’ve taken you a few hours to do alone. Nico did most of the work, lightly pushing you out of the way when you tried to help, but you managed to at least put the back cushions on without his protest.

“Let me cook you dinner,” You spoke up after the brief lapse of silence, “As a payment for all your help.”

You watched as he hesitated, his hand that was previously running over the back of the couch halting. His back was turned to you, so you couldn’t see his expression and that made you nervous. You pulled your lip between your teeth as the silence overcame you, and just as you were about to rescind your offer, Nico finally spoke up.

“Sure, that would be nice,” He turned to you, his hair lightly flopping in his eyes, “But I’m helping you cook.”

“That’s not how that works, Nico,” You playfully rolled your eyes, missing the way his breath caught in his throat as his name rolled off your lips.

“Too bad.”

The rest of the night, the two of you talked about anything you came to mind. Laughter filled your messy apartment until the early hours of the morning, only ceasing when you picked your phone up for the first time that night and saw the time. When Nico went back to his own apartment, there was nothing that could wipe the smile off your face. Your stomach was doing flips and your heart was beating a mile a minute as you recounted the events from the night. It wasn’t until sleep finally took over that you finally calmed down.

The following days, Nico texted you as often as he could with his busy schedule. He would even come over to your apartment, or you to his, after he had practice and the two of you would hang out. The more you saw him, the more you began to develop a crush on him, but you pushed that down as far as you could because there was no way he felt the same about you. He was a hockey star. He had so much going for him, and you were just you.

Earlier in the day, you were harshly slapped in the face with the reality that there would never be anything between you and Nico. You were coming home from the grocery store when probably the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen was coming out of his apartment, heels dangling between her fingers and hair an untamed mess as she did the unmistakable walk of shame. Though, there was no shame if it was Nico Hischier one had hooked up with. Your heart fell out of your chest and to your feet as you practically ran into your apartment, eyes brimming with tears and breathing shaky. The gutted feeling settling in your stomach made you want to vomit.

Of course you felt stupid for letting it get to you the way it did, but you couldn’t help it. The last two weeks you’ve spent with him made you feel things that you hadn’t felt in a long time. He made you feel happy and lighthearted, and like you were the only girl in the world. Though, you should’ve known better than to read into it so much. He was a professional hockey player, after all. Making girls feel special and like they mattered was a skill they had all mastered, and he was no exception.

Later that night, Nico texted you asking if you wanted to come out to the bar with him and a few of the guys you had met when you moved in. You responded to him with some vague excuse of how you didn’t feel well and then turned your phone off for the night. Curling into a ball on your couch, you put the first Twilight movie on and tried to forget about the man who had effortlessly captured your heart for the night.

You’re not sure when you fell asleep, but you woke up to the sound of someone intensely knocking on your door. Eclipse was still playing on the TV, though it was almost over, and the last thing you remember seeing was Edward dropping Bella off at the police station. Throwing the blanket off, you trudged to the door and peeked through the peephole.

“What the fuck,” You mumbled when you saw Nico and Dawson on the other side.

Pulling the door open, Dawson was quick to speak up, “He wouldn’t let me take him to his own apartment without checking on you since you’re sick.”

The way Dawson’s eyes dragged over you, his brow quirking as he realized that you were, in fact, not sick made your cheeks burn. Nico was clearly heavily inebriated judging by his flushed skin, and by the way his head was lazily lolled onto Dawson's shoulder. He was also incoherently mumbling to himself, or maybe he was mumbling in German. Either way, you couldn’t understand him.

“You can tell him I’m fine,” You responded, looking back towards the blonde in front of you.

At the sound of your voice, NIco’s bloodshot eyes flashed open and he immediately stepped towards you. Your hands instinctively came out to catch him as he stumbled out of his friend's grasp.

“Y/N,” He slurred, his hands coming to find a place on your waist once he found his footing, “Are you okay? You said you were sick and then you didn’t answer for so long and I got worried.

His accent was significantly more prominent when he was drunk, so it was a little harder to understand him than normal. His grip on your waist made your stomach flip and your heart race, but you were harshly reminded of the scene from this morning as brief images flashed in your mind. Gently removing his hands from your waist, you finally met his gaze and shook your head.

“I’m fine, Nico. You should probably go home and get some sleep,” You steadily spoke, taking a step backwards to put space between the two of you.

Nico’s face fell as you put distance between the two of you, and you had to force yourself to look away from him before you pulled him into your arms. He looked jilted, lips turned downwards into a frown and eyes swimming with a mix of confusion and hurt.

“Look,” Dawson started, voice slightly hesitant, “I hate to ask this, but can you make sure he gets to his apartment? Jack’s downstairs in the car and I’m afraid he’ll try and run off into the street or something.”

You purse your lips as you maintain eye contact with Dawson, silently cursing him in your mind as he gave you an apologetic smile. Mumbling out an annoyed agreement, Dawson quickly placed a chaste kiss to your cheek before thanking you and running back towards the elevator. Finally letting yourself look at Nico again, you were met with the same defeated expression he had when you turned away from him.

“Do you have your keys,” You asked, crossing your arms across your chest. Nico’s hands sloppily pat at his front and back pockets, yet all he found was his cellphone. No keys or wallet.

“Well, I guess you can stay here tonight,” You quietly huffed, opening your door so that he could pass through.

His eyes lit up as you offered him safety in your home, and he was darting in without a second thought. He staggered towards the couch, falling over the back of it and landing on the soft cushions. You couldn’t help but smile at his antics as you grabbed him a glass of water and an uncrustable from the fridge.

Walking back into the living room, you see Nico sprawled out on the couch with his face buried in between the cracks of the cushions. You took the spot next to his head and gently tapped his shoulder as a way to get his attention. However, your touch apparently startled him and he roughly flipped over and nearly knocked the cup out of your hand. Luckily, only a few droplets spilled onto the couch and rug.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, a light blush creeping up on his cheeks when he realized that happened.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it Neeks,” The nickname effortlessly fell from your lips, “Drink and eat this. It’ll help sober you up a little.”

He took the food first, inhaling it so quickly that you’re truly surprised he didn’t choke on it before he was grabbing at the cup of water. You clasped your hands in your lap, gaze staring at the small spots of water that now adorned your carpet. Your heart was beating fast and loud, the sound echoing in your ears as silence enveloped your apartment. Having a drunk hockey captain in your apartment at two in the morning was not on your daily bingo card, yet here he is.

“Did I do something wrong,” His voice came out weak and uncertain, his eyes flicking towards you before focusing back on the ground, “Are you mad at me?”

Your body tensed, back straightening and jaw clenching as his words washed over you like a cold bucket of water. Truly, Nico didn’t do anything wrong. The way you feel was entirely your own doing, and you couldn’t place that blame on him no matter how much you wanted to.

“No, Nico, I’m not mad at you,” You deeply sighed, leaning back against the couch as you closed your eyes, “And you didn’t do anything wrong.” Except for be so shamelessly and irresistibly himself.

You heard him quietly mumble something in his native language, but you didn’t have time to even pretend like you understood him before you felt his head land in your lap. Your eyes shot open, wide and confused as you peered down at the man below you. He was gazing up at you with, what looked like, admiration and a little something else you were unsure of.

“You know, you’re really beautiful,” Nico started, a ditzy smile on his face, “ You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

The blood instantly rushed to your cheeks, turning them a deep pink shade as you quickly glanced away from him. Despite you wanting those words to be true, you knew Nico was drunk and he was more than likely saying things to just say them. Though even then, he wasn’t exactly making it easy to get over the feelings that you had developed for him.

“Okay, Nico,” You rolled your eyes, letting your fingers card through his soft hair as you tried to push back the feeling in your chest.

“I mean it,” He pulled his brows together as if your dismissal offended him, “You are. I think you’re the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful woman in the world and I like you a lot.”

You froze as his words registered in your mind, your breath catching in your throat and hand stilling with his hair tangled in your fingers. His eyes fluttered closed and his lips parted as he let small breaths pass through them. The blood was pounding in your ears, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to form any words, but you were coming up blank. You didn’t want to read too much into what he was saying because there was no telling how far gone he was, so you decided to play it safe.

“I like you too,” You mumbled, swallowing the lump in your throat, “You’re a good friend.”

“No,” Nico shook his head on your thighs, turning to his side so that his face was shoved into your stomach and his arms were uncomfortably wrapped around your waist, “I like you more than a friend.”

“You’re drunk, Nico,” You forced out, mouth growing dry as you hastily untangled yourself from his hold, “We can talk about this tomorrow, if you even remember it.”

You scrambled off the couch, eyes lightly lined with tears. You busied yourself with making sure he had a pillow, blanket, and a cup of water before you retreated to your bedroom so you could overthink his drunken words. However, the sound of Nico’s voice had you pausing in the middle of the hallway.

“I might be really drunk, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how I feel about you.”

Needless to say, you had a hard time falling asleep. You were tossing and turning, blanket wrapped around your body in a sort of cocoon as a way to try and comfort yourself. Nico’s words were echoing throughout your brain, making it hard for you to calm yourself down enough to sleep. People say that drunk words are sober thoughts, but what if that wasn’t the case? You wanted so desperately to believe that he liked you as much as you’d like him, but all you could think of was that girl leaving his apartment not even twenty-four hours ago.

The following morning, the smell of coffee filling your nose woke you up and, though for only a brief moment, you had forgotten about the events that occurred yesterday. However, Nico’s drunken confession was back to ringing in your ears like it never left, but so were the gentle footsteps of the blonde woman you had seen when she passed by your apartment door.

Blinking back tears, you shoved the blankets off of your body and walked into your bathroom, rubbing a tired hand across your face. The light flickered on and you cringed as you took in your appearance. Your hair was tangled in knots at the back of your head, bags adorning the spots underneath your eyes from your lack of sleep. Truthfully, you looked like shit, but knowing that Nico was out in your living room was enough encouragement to put yourself together at least a little bit.

Once your hair was brushed and pulled back away from your face, and your teeth were rid of their disgusting morning breath, you made your way out of your room. Your heart was beating so hard that it felt as if it was going to beat out of your chest, the nerves lighting your skin on fire the closer you got to the front of your apartment. You briefly paused at the edge of the hallway, taking a deep breath before finally stepping into the open, but you froze at the sight in front of you.

“Good morning! I hope you don’t mind, but I made you breakfast- Well, lunch, really, as a way to say thank you for letting me stay here last night,” Nico rambled, his hands gesturing to the plate of breakfast food sitting on your dining table.

“Thank you, Nico. I appreciate it,” You managed to give him a genuine smile as you slowly approached the table, picking up the cup filled with coffee.

Taking a sip, you nearly choked on the drink as you realized it was made exactly how you liked it. You had only ever told Nico how you took your coffee once one morning after you had accidentally fallen asleep on his couch, but he remembered. It was something so small, yet the gesture itself meant so much.

“Of course,” He nervously rubbed at the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at you, “I’m uh- I’m sorry. About last night, and about whatever I did to upset you. You say you’re not mad at me, but I know you are.”

You quietly fell into the chair, blood pounding in your ears as you contemplated what you were going to say in response. On one hand, you could tell him the truth and potentially ruin the entire friendship you’d built with him. On another, you could stick with your story from last night and pretend like nothing happened. Though, if Nico knew you well enough that he could tell you were lying when he was drunk, you knew there was no use in trying to do it again now that he was sober.

“I was,” You sheepishly admitted, eyes staying trained on the plate in front of you, “But I’m not anymore. It was stupid.”

“What did I do,” He asked, voice careful and full of worry as he sat next to you. His knee brushed against your thigh, his arm laid against the table as he slightly leaned forward so he was closer to you.

“You didn’t do anything, Nico. It was my own fault,” You sighed, finally letting your gaze meet his own.

His eyes were soft, swimming with emotion as they searched your face for any sign of what was going through your mind. Your cheeks were flushed, lip pulled between your teeth as nerves shot throughout every inch of your body. He was close enough to you that you could see the faint outline of a scar on the bridge of his nose. You opened your mouth to continue, but Nico beat you to it.

“What was your fault?”

Averting your stare back to the table, you took a deep breath, hands anxiously gripping the edges of the chair. “It’s stupid, Nico. It’s not important,” You mumbled.

“Hey,” He carefully grabbed your wrist causing your wide eyes to snap back to him, “If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.”

If you thought your heart was racing before, it was doing a full on sprint now. Your skin was on fire underneath his hold, your breath catching in your throat as you tried to form any sort of coherent sentence. It was absolutely ridiculous how a small touch from the man in front of you made your brain short circuit; the ability to function completely lost in the air.

“IsawagirlleavingyourapartmentandIgotupset,” You quickly rushed out, not stopping to breath until the final word left your lips.

Nico’s face contorted with a mix of confusion, and also a little bit of amusement as well as the gears in his brain worked to decipher what exactly you had said. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you just said,” He lightly laughed, “I know English isn’t my first language, but I’m not sure that was English.”

“Shut up,” You groaned, embarrassment crawling across your skin as you brought both do your hands to cover your face, “I said that I saw a girl leaving your apartment yesterday and it made me upset.”

The silence that followed made your stomach twist itself into knots, anxiety flowing off of you as you waited for his response. You peeked at him through your fingers, watching as he furrowed his brows and mumbled to himself in German. The last thing you had expected him to do was laugh, though. It wasn’t an over-the-top, chest clutching laugh, but it was still a laugh and it made you angry.

Frustrated tears brimmed your eyes as the legs to the chair scraped against the floor as you pushed it back so you could stand. You knew you should have listened to yourself last night when you told yourself that Nico hadn’t meant what he said. That he was drunk and just saying things to say them. Not wanting to be around him anymore, the urge to toss the cup of coffee on him growing by the second, you turned to walk back to your room, but Nico’s hand grabbed your wrist again and tugged you towards him.

“No, wait,” He spoke, the amusement from his face gone once he noticed your glassy eyes, “I promise I’m not laughing at you, but what you think happened, didn’t. That girl- She was with Jack. Not me. I let them come to my apartment because Luke, Jack’s brother, had a bunch of people over and he didn’t want to take her there. I swear, that’s it. You can ask Jack if you’d like.”

An overwhelming sense of relief flooded your chest as his words registered, your shoulders dropping as you let your body relax. While the story might seem a bit outlandish to others, it made some sort of sense to you. You thought you had heard Jack’s voice bouncing across the halls that morning, but you were too preoccupied with your emotions to truly acknowledge it.

“Oh, okay,” You mumbled, mortification slowly working it’s way back in as you stayed under Nico’s intense gaze, “I’m sorry for ignoring you yesterday. It was childish and stupid.”

You gently pulled your wrist out of his grasp, clasping your hands together behind your back as shamefully you stared at the ground. Nico took a short step forward, hesitantly taking your jaw in between his thumb and forefinger so he could guide your eyes back up to him. He wiped at the tears that had spilled down onto your cheeks, his warm touch leaving the skin cold in their wake.

“Don’t apologize,” He lowly comforted, “I would have thought the same thing, but at least now I know you were jealous.” His tone was teasing and playful, a subtle smirk forming on his lips as he continued, “I meant what I said last night. I like you. I like you a lot.”

Swallowing thickly, you peered up at him through your lashes, your voice small and nervous, “I like you a lot, too.”

“Can I kiss you,” He whispered, eyes flitting down to your lips.

You eagerly nodded, not minding that it might’ve made you look a little desperate, because, in a way, you were. You’d been waiting for this moment since the first night you hung out with him, and you weren’t going to let your nerves get in the way of that. Although, nothing could have prepared you for the feeling that exploded in your chest when your lips finally met his. It was as if all of the misaligned pieces to your life were finally settling exactly where they were supposed to be.

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #new jersey devils

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sc0tters · 11 months

Text

Better Off Alone | Luke Hughes

summary: you have had a crush on Luke for months, but what happens when he comes to New Jersey and decides that he doesn’t like the Devils’ golden girl?

request: yes/no

warnings: asshole Luke, like MAJOR dickhead vibes from the boy, use of a legal age gap (reader is envisioned to be 21!)

word count: 1.33k

authors note: saw a Quinn imagine a few weeks back that I can’t find anymore but that’s what gave me this idea! I’m pretty sure that Rutgers does not have the degree I mentioned but we’re gonna act like they do. There’s no really ending on this as I was on the fence about making this a series, so if you want it let me know!

next part

The universe was against you.

Or at least that was what you told yourself as you stared at Luke from across the table as everyone was in the cafeteria for lunch.

As a student at Rutgers University in your sophomore year you had come across the opportunity to become an intern at the New Jersey Devils learning all about how they ran their social media accounts, something that fit perfectly with your degree in social media marketing. Two and a half years later now as a senior you were still at the same position and had built bonds with most of the guys that she saw most days that they were in Jersey during the season.

Sure there were some that you were closer with than others, especially the ones that were similar in age to you like Jack and Dawson. And there were others that you somehow had wrapped around your finger like Miles and Nico.

But Luke was the one you couldn’t seem to crack.

The boys all adored you because you were this bright ball of happy energy whenever you came into the room but that was what Luke seemed to hate the most about you.

It shouldn’t have effected you as much as it did but over the past year you had unintentionally developed a bit of a crush on him through hearing Jack gush about his younger brother and ultimately being the forwards game viewing buddy.

You knew that the crush was beyond unprofessional but your excuse was that it happened prior to him signing with the team and to your knowledge nobody had picked up on it. All of the players besides for Luke had very much picked up on it though.

It was the way you couldn’t even form a coherent sentence around him during the first week of him being at the team.

The way your eyes would linger on him for just a little bit longer than appropriate when you two were in the same room.

Jack found the whole thing really sweet in fact since he had grown to know you like the back of his hand, you two had grown particularly close during his rookie year. Meaning that he knew if there was any girl in Jersey that was going to fall in love with his baby brother Jack was glad it was you.

However love was a two way street, and it seemed like the street from Luke’s side was never going to be built.

Whenever he got the chance to shut you down or to call you out he took it. If there was an opportunity to make a dig at you he didn’t let it go missed. Any way he could try to make you feel small, he seemed to take.

Jack originally played this down to him being nervous around you, but when the comments didn’t start to slow down when you weren’t around the middle Hughes brother knew that there was more to the story.

Thankfully for you the majority of Luke’s attacks came in the form of snarky comments that you were able to quickly rebuttal.

His hits ranged from soft things like commenting on how she looked like she had just woken up.

To far meaner things like loudly questioning a boy as to why they would willingly speak to you, when you were still well within earshot of the conversation.

Usually you would just laugh and and respond with anything from “go look in the mirror,” to “takes a lot of energy being this much of a dick doesn’t it?”

You knew he was bad for your health, most nights you couldn’t sleep because you would replay the words that he had said to you throughout that day and you would helplessly scan them trying to figure out if there was any truth behind them.

You couldn’t flirt with guys for long periods of time because you would always find ways that Luke was better than them. Given how Luke was acting, your friends were really questioning your taste and standards in men.

Luke was like a mystery block from Mario Kart as you never really knew what you were going to get with him. Sometimes he was actually rather quite bearable, even going as far as to say something that you were able to convince yourself was a nice comment.

But most of the time he was the same old cruel person. In all honesty he didn’t know why he acted like it with you. There was just something about you that hit a nerve in his body the moment he stalked your Instagram after seeing your name pop up once in a comment under a post that Jack had made. He couldn’t stand how everyone adored you, even his mother who had only met you once always asked Jack about you in her weekly call with the boys.

Jack used the back of his water bottle to tap your knee “you coming to the bar tonight?” He asked cocking his head as he wanted to learn about your weekend plans.

The team didn’t have a game Wednesday through Monday and since they had a fairly good end of regular season, it only felt right to let the boys celebrate.

With a mouth full of food Luke let out a scoff “she’s not invited!” He groaned ignoring how you furrowed your eyebrows at him when he made the statement.

Like normal Jack stepped in to bring his brother back in line “it is an open invitation to anyone so yes she is.” The middle Hughes brother since his sibling a glare as he silently told him to shut up.

You always felt guilty when Jack got involved in your little spats with Luke especially after Dawson accidentally revealed to you that the brothers have full blown arguments about the younger Hughes’ behaviour when you aren’t around. So you let out a sigh that was loud enough for them both to hear “thanks Jack but I actually have plans tonight.” You lied not wanting to be around Luke if it was going to be this mean.

You were starting to lose the energy needed to keep up with the boy “you have plans?” Luke leaned back in his chair as he scoffed “bullshit,” he was quick to call your bluff.

He was right though, you literally intended on catching up on course work and sitting in front of the tv.

Jack sent the boy a warning stare as he was walking a fine line “nope, I am going to catch up on some work-” you couldn’t even get the whole sentence out before Luke erupted into laughter.

Once he got over his fit of giggles he smirked “knew it!” He ran his fingers through his hair seeing your confused facial expressions “knew you were too boring to have friends who wanted to hang out with you.” The way the words ran so smoothly out of his mouth without any sense of remorse was enough to send shivers down your spine.

The comment stung like a bee sting as you felt it poke at your heart when your eyes went wide attempting to process your next move “dude!” Jack scoffed kicking his brother underneath the table.

Luke only shrugged as you got up “even she knows I’m right,” he motioning to you as you had remained quiet.

You had to force a cordial smile on your face when you actually wanted to do nothing more than punch the younger boy in the face “have a good weekend boys.” You mumbled as you shoved your hands into the pockets of your team hoodie grateful for the fact that you had to head back to campus for a lecture.

Yes you might have liked Luke but you were starting to realise that it might be time to reevaluate your feelings towards him.

Maybe you were better off leaving the team when the season ended.

But maybe you were actually better off off alone just like Luke wanted.

#luke hughes #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #oneshot #imagines #better off series

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vegalores · 2 months

Note

“I am not omniscient, but I know a lot.”

— Anastasia Andrews-Ismay to Jack Dawson

@historiavn | jack and anastasia

Eyes lift to meet the face belonging to the voice that ever so softly made that remark and he is immediately a little winded at the sight. Her dark, flowing hair paired with a striking pair of eyes that he is now latched onto with his own.

For a moment, he does not know how to use his voice, until the puffed-up, much more secure voice inside of himself awakens, drawing him nearer to her with a single step.

" Far more than I ever could, I would estimate, " is all he says, taking in the rest of her appearance and putting two and two together. She looked considerably upscale, compared to himself.

#asks #historiavn #dawson responds #ooc / hiiiii omg #ooc / thank you for the memes <3

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estapa-edwards · 2 months

Text

BROTHERS BEST FRIEND - D.MERCER

paring: dawson mercer x fem! reader

word count:3.7k

requested? no

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

From the moment I first laid eyes on Dawson Mercer, I knew he was something special. It wasn’t just the way he moved on the ice, gliding effortlessly as he weaved through the opposition, or the precision with which he handled the puck, making it seem like an extension of himself. No, it was something deeper, something that tugged at my heartstrings and made my cheeks flush every time our paths crossed – which, as the sister of one of his teammates, happened more often than I’d care to admit.

In a household where hockey reigned supreme, with my brother Jack Hughes as the star center for the New Jersey Devils, and my other brothers Luke and Quinn also lighting up the ice, I was well-acquainted with the fervor and passion the sport inspired. Yet, nothing could have prepared me for the unexpected crush I found myself developing on one of Jack’s teammates, Dawson Mercer.

Being around the team, attending games, and cheering from the stands was a routine part of my life. It was during one of these games that I first felt that indescribable connection with Dawson. I was watching from the VIP box, my eyes darting across the ice, following Jack’s every move, when Dawson stole the puck and made an incredible breakaway. The crowd erupted into cheers, and as Dawson skated past our box, our eyes met for a fleeting moment. That was all it took. My heart skipped a beat, and I was hooked.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

After the game, I found myself mingling with the players at a local hotspot they frequented. Dawson, still flushed from the excitement of the game, made his way over to me.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted with a playful smirk. "Enjoying the game?"

I grinned, trying to hide my blush. "Oh, you mean that amazing breakaway you had? Yeah, it was alright," I teased, feigning indifference.

Dawson chuckled, leaning in closer. "Just alright? I was hoping for a standing ovation."

Rolling my eyes playfully, I responded, "Well, maybe next time. You'll have to give me something even more spectacular to cheer about."

Dawson's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Challenge accepted," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

The flirty exchange left me with butterflies in my stomach and a smile on my face, realizing that my crush on Dawson Mercer was more than just a passing infatuation.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Over the next few weeks, I found myself looking for any excuse to be around Dawson. Whether it was attending team practices, hanging out in the locker room, or joining the boys for post-game celebrations, I was there, soaking in his presence like a sun-deprived flower. Each interaction, however brief, only intensified my feelings for him.

I would often find myself arriving early to practices, lingering near the rinkside to watch Dawson and the team warm up. The way he moved on the ice was mesmerizing, his every stride and shot exuding confidence and skill. I would cheer him on from the sidelines, our eyes meeting occasionally, sending a thrill through me every time.

Hanging out in the locker room was another opportunity for me to be near Dawson. While I respected the team's space and tried not to intrude too much, I enjoyed the casual banter and camaraderie that flowed freely among the players. Dawson would often catch my eye and flash me a smile or make a playful comment, making my heart race with excitement.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

The post-game celebrations were perhaps my favorite part. There was something exhilarating about being in the midst of the team's jubilation, sharing in their victories and witnessing the bond between the players. Dawson would always make an effort to include me in the celebrations, whether it was sharing a drink, introducing me to his teammates, or simply engaging in light-hearted conversation. Each moment spent together, no matter how fleeting, felt special and significant.

One evening, as I was preparing to leave the arena after a game, Dawson approached me with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Hey, Y/N, the team is having a little get-together tonight to celebrate the win. Would you like to come?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful tone.

Caught off guard by the invitation but thrilled at the prospect of spending more time with Dawson outside of the usual hockey environment, I replied, "Sure, I'd love to!"

"Great! It's at Alex's place. I'll pick you up around 8?" he suggested, his smile widening.

"Sounds perfect," I said, trying to maintain my composure despite the butterflies that had suddenly taken flight in my stomach.

Later that evening, I found myself eagerly awaiting Dawson's arrival. When he pulled up outside my apartment, I was struck by how handsome he looked in his casual attire, a stark contrast to his hockey gear. He flashed me a charming smile as I climbed into the passenger seat.

"You look amazing, Y/N," he complimented, his eyes lingering on me a moment longer than necessary.

"Thank you, Dawson," I blushed, feeling a warmth spread through me at his words.

As we drove to the party, the atmosphere in the car was charged with anticipation. Dawson reached over to turn up the radio, and soon we were both singing along to the catchy tune, our laughter filling the confined space.

Upon arriving at Alex's lavish apartment, we were greeted by the lively sounds of music and laughter. The place was packed with players and their friends, all in high spirits and eager to continue the night's celebrations.

Dawson took my hand, guiding me through the crowded room with ease. "Come on, let's grab a drink," he suggested, leading me to the makeshift bar set up in the corner of the living room.

As we waited for our drinks, Dawson leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a seductive whisper. "You know, Y/N, I've been looking forward to tonight. It's not every day I get to take such a beautiful date to a party."

I felt my cheeks heat up at his flirty remark, but I couldn't help but smile at his boldness. "Well, I'm glad I could be your plus one tonight," I replied, my voice tinged with playful sarcasm.

Dawson grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Trust me, the pleasure is all mine."

Throughout the night, Dawson's attentiveness never wavered. He introduced me to his teammates, always keeping a protective hand on my waist or back, subtly claiming me as his. We danced, laughed, and shared whispered secrets, the undeniable chemistry between us growing stronger with each passing moment.

As the party began to wind down, Dawson pulled me aside, his expression sincere. "I had a great time tonight, Y/N. Thank you for coming."

I smiled, feeling a rush of warmth and affection for the man standing before me. "The pleasure was all mine, Dawson." With that, he leaned down, capturing my lips in a gentle yet passionate kiss.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

The morning after the party, I mustered up the courage to address the kiss with Dawson. As I approached him in the kitchen, he was busy making coffee, seemingly unaware of my presence.

"Dawson, can we talk about last night?" I began, my voice hesitant.

He looked up, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What about last night?"

Caught off guard by his response, I stammered, "You know, the kiss... between us?"

A look of genuine surprise crossed Dawson's face, as if he had completely forgotten about our intimate moment. "Oh, that? I thought we were just caught up in the moment, celebrating the win," he replied casually, stirring his coffee as if discussing the weather.

The awkwardness of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt embarrassed and foolish for assuming the kiss meant something more to him.

"So, you're saying it didn't mean anything to you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the sinking feeling in my stomach.

Dawson looked up, seemingly realizing the gravity of the situation. "No, Y/N, that's not what I meant," he said, his voice softening. "I just... I didn't want to assume anything and make things awkward between us."

Feeling embarrassed and wishing I hadn't brought it up, I quickly responded, "You know what, never mind. Forget I even said anything," I said, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Dawson's expression was a mix of confusion and concern. "Y/N, please don't say that. I didn't mean to dismiss our kiss. It meant something to me, too."

I shook my head, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. "It's fine, Dawson. Let's just forget it happened," I said, trying to sound casual despite the turmoil inside me.

Dawson reached out, gently placing a hand on my arm. "Y/N, I care about you, and I don't want to brush this aside. Let's talk about it, really talk about it."

But I couldn't bear to discuss it any further. "Maybe some other time," I mumbled, pulling away and fleeing the room, leaving Dawson standing there.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

A few days later, I found myself at the practice rink with Jack, watching the Devils go through their drills. I had tried to put the awkward encounter with Dawson behind me, but the lingering tension between us was hard to ignore. As I stood by the boards, cheering for Jack and the team, I couldn't help but notice Dawson's distant demeanor.

During a break in the practice, Jack skated over to me, his brow furrowed in concern. "Hey, is everything okay between you and Dawson?" he asked quietly, so as not to be overheard by the other players.

I hesitated for a moment, trying to hide the turmoil I was feeling. "Yeah, everything's okay. What do you mean?" I replied, attempting to sound casual and dismissive.

Jack looked at me skeptically, clearly not buying my nonchalant demeanor. "He's been acting weird lately. Did something happen?"

I shrugged, trying to maintain my indifferent facade. "How should I know? We don't even talk," I replied dismissively, masking the hurt and confusion I felt inside.

Jack frowned, clearly concerned. "That's not like Dawson. I'll talk to him and find out what's going on."

"Please, Jack, no, it's nothing," I insisted, trying to downplay the situation and avoid making a bigger deal out of it.

Jack looked at me skeptically, hesitating for a moment before finally nodding. "Alright, if you say so. But if there's anything going on, you know you can talk to me, right?"

I nodded gratefully, appreciating Jack's concern and support. "I know, Jack. Thanks."

As I watched Dawson from the sidelines for the rest of the practice, I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that something was amiss between us. Every time I glanced his way, I noticed he was staring back at me, his gaze intense and filled with a mixture of regret and longing. Despite my attempts to brush it off and maintain a sense of normalcy, the lingering awkwardness and distance between us were impossible to ignore.

It seemed as though he was trying to communicate something without words, his eyes searching mine for understanding and connection.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

As the practice came to an end, I started gathering my things, ready to head home. Just as I was about to leave the rink, Dawson suddenly rushed over to me, determination evident in his stride. Jack, sensing the gravity of the moment, gave me a knowing look before skating away.

"I'll let you two deal with it," Jack called out, his voice filled with understanding.

My heart raced as Dawson approached, the tension between us palpable. I looked up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of clarity or explanation.

"Y/N, we need to talk," Dawson began, his voice earnest and slightly shaky. "I know I've been distant lately, and I'm sorry. I didn't handle the situation well, and I regret that."

"Dawson, I really don't want to talk about this," I said, my voice tinged with frustration and disappointment. The uncertainty and awkwardness of the situation had taken its toll on me, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to address it just yet.

Dawson looked taken aback, his face reflecting a mixture of regret and determination. "Y/N, please-"

"No, it's over, really. Just let it go," I interrupted, cutting him off, my voice firm as I turned around to leave.

Before I could fully turn away, Dawson reached out and gently grabbed my arm, halting my movement. His touch was gentle yet firm, his eyes pleading with me to reconsider.

"Y/N, please don't walk away like this," he said, his voice filled with desperation. "I know I messed up, but I want to make it right. I care about you, and I don't want to lose you over a misunderstanding."

I hesitated, torn between my desire to escape the awkwardness and the lingering feelings I had for him. I looked into his eyes, searching for sincerity and a hint of the connection we once shared.

"Dawson, I-" I began, but he cut me off, his voice earnest as he began to speak from the heart.

"Y/N, I love the way you laugh, the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you're passionate about," Dawson started, his voice trembling with emotion. "I love how caring and supportive you are, always putting others before yourself. I love the way you challenge me, pushing me to be a better person and player. I love your smile, the way it brightens up even the darkest days. And most importantly, I love the way you make me feel when I'm with you - god, I can't even put it into words."

He took a deep breath, looking deeply into my eyes, his voice soft yet filled with conviction. "Y/N, I love you."

"You love me?" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper, the weight of his confession sinking in. The depth of his feelings for me was both overwhelming and comforting, and I felt a mixture of joy, relief, and uncertainty.

Dawson nodded, his eyes never leaving mine, his expression sincere and vulnerable. "Yes, Y/N, I do. I've been struggling with how to express this to you, and I'm sorry for the confusion and the distance I've put between us."

I took a moment to process his words, my heart racing as I grappled with my own feelings for him. Despite the recent misunderstandings and awkwardness, I couldn't deny the deep connection and affection I had for Dawson.

"Dawson, I need time to sort out my feelings," I said softly, my voice filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty. "The way things have been lately, it's been confusing and overwhelming. I need to figure out what's best for both of us."

Dawson nodded, releasing my arm and taking a step back, his face etched with a mix of regret and understanding. "I understand, Y/N. Take all the time you need. Just know that I'll be here, hoping we can find a way back to each other. "

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Back at our apartment, the familiar comfort of home did little to ease the turmoil swirling inside me. I had been trying to avoid the topic, hoping to find clarity on my own, but as the days passed, the weight of the situation became too much to bear. Jack, sensing my distress, approached me in the living room where I was lost in thought.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Jack asked, his brow furrowed with concern as he took in my tear-streaked face.

I tried to brush it off, forcing a weak smile. "I'm fine, Jack, just tired."

Jack didn't buy it, sitting down beside me and gently placing a hand on my shoulder. "Y/N, you can talk to me. What's going on?"

Unable to hold back any longer, I broke down, the floodgates opening as I poured out my feelings and confusion about Dawson and our complicated relationship. "Jack, I don't know what to do. I care about Dawson so much, and I thought he felt the same way, but everything has been so confusing lately. He confessed his feelings for me, and I want to believe him, but the way he's been acting... I just don't know anymore."

Jack listened patiently, his presence a comforting anchor as I struggled to make sense of my emotions. When I finished, he wrapped his arms around me, offering silent support and understanding.

"Y/N, relationships are complicated, especially when they involve someone close to you," Jack began, his voice gentle and reassuring. "But you deserve clarity and honesty, especially from someone you care about. Have you talked to Dawson about how you feel?"

I shook my head, wiping away my tears. "I tried, but every time I bring it up, it becomes so awkward and uncomfortable. I don't know how to fix this, Jack."

Jack pulled back, looking me in the eyes with a determined expression. "Then maybe it's time for a heart-to-heart conversation with Dawson. You both need to be honest with each other and clear the air. Whether it leads to a deeper connection or the realization that you're better off as friends, you owe it to yourselves to communicate openly and honestly."

I nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. "You're right, Jack. I need to talk to Dawson and sort this out, one way or another."

Jack smiled, squeezing my shoulder reassuringly. "I'm here for you, Y/N, no matter what happens. Just remember, you deserve happiness and clarity in your relationships."

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

The atmosphere in the Prudential Center was electric, the tension palpable as the New Jersey Devils faced off against their rivals. I was watching from the stands, my heart pounding with every play, every hit, every save. As the game progressed, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off with Dawson. He seemed more agitated than usual, his gameplay erratic and tense.

Midway through the second period, the tension reached a boiling point. Dawson got into a heated altercation with an opposing player, exchanging words and shoves before throwing a punch. The referees quickly intervened, but it was too late. Dawson was assessed a major penalty and ejected from the game, leaving his teammates to finish the game without him.

Feeling a mix of frustration and concern, I made my way to the locker room, hoping to talk to Dawson and offer some support. As I entered, I could hear the distant roar of the crowd and the muffled voices of the players outside, celebrating their hard-fought victory.

Dawson was sitting alone in the corner of the locker room, his head in his hands, his posture defeated and desolate. He looked up as I approached, his expression closed off and distant.

"Dawson, are you okay?" I asked softly, trying to keep my voice steady despite the worry and confusion swirling inside me.

Dawson sighed, avoiding my gaze as he replied, "I'm fine, Y/N. Just not in the mood to talk right now."

I took a deep breath, steeling myself as I sat down beside him, determined to break through his walls and offer the support he clearly needed, whether he wanted it or not.

"Dawson, I know you're upset about the game, but shutting me out isn't going to make things better," I said gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his arm. "I care about you, and I want to be here for you, especially when things get tough."

Dawson looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and vulnerability. "Y/N, I appreciate your concern, but right now, I just need some space. I don't want to drag you into this mess."

I shook my head, refusing to back down, my voice firm yet caring. "Dawson, we're in this together, whether you like it or not. We need to communicate and support each other, especially when things get tough. Please, let me be here for you."

Dawson sighed, his defenses slowly crumbling as he looked into my eyes, the weight of his emotions evident in his gaze. After a moment of silence, he finally nodded, his voice soft and defeated. "Okay, Y/N. I'm sorry for pushing you away. I'm just frustrated and disappointed with how things turned out."

I reached out, pulling him into a comforting embrace, feeling the tension in his body slowly ease as he allowed himself to lean into the support and understanding I was offering.

"It's okay, Dawson," I whispered, holding him close. Dawson pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with guilt and regret. "Y/N, I feel like shit. I shouldn't have lied to you," he said, his voice heavy with remorse.

I looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and pain reflected in them. Taking a deep breath, I gently cupped his face, forcing him to meet my gaze.

"It's okay," I reassured him softly, trying to ease the burden of his guilt. "Let's not focus on that right now. We'll work through it, together."

Dawson nodded, his shoulders sagging with relief as he leaned into my touch, grateful for the understanding and forgiveness I was offering.

"Thank you, Y/N," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Moved by his vulnerability and sincerity, I closed the distance between us, placing a gentle hand on his cheek as I leaned in, our lips meeting in a soft, tender kiss.

"I'm sorry too, Dawson," I whispered as we pulled apart, our foreheads resting against each other, the weight of our recent misunderstandings and emotions hanging between us. "I shouldn't have overreacted like I did."

Dawson looked into my eyes, his gaze filled with warmth and understanding. "It's okay, Y/N," he whispered back, his voice soft and reassuring.

Feeling a surge of emotion and clarity, I took a deep breath, my voice trembling with sincerity. "I love you, Dawson."

Dawson's eyes widened momentarily, a look of surprise and overwhelming emotion crossing his face before it softened into a genuine, heartfelt smile. "I love you too, Y/N," he replied, his voice filled with love and conviction.

As we sat there, our hands entwined, the weight of our recent challenges and misunderstandings lifted, replaced by a renewed sense of connection, understanding, and love. We had navigated through the storm together, and now, we were ready to face the future, committed to each other, stronger and more united than before.

#dawson mercer #dawson mercer x reader #nhl x reader #new jersey devils #nj devils #njd

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alotofpockets · 7 months

Text

Right in front of you | Leslie Shay

Pairing: Leslie Shay x Reader Reader pronouns used: she/her Prompt: "Is that a hickey?" Masterlist | Chicago Fire masterlist | Words: 1k

You loved to cook at the firehouse around the corner, on your days off from the family owned restaurant you worked at. Besides loving to cook, it was also a way for you to see your girlfriend when she was on shift. The environment at 51 was also not bad, you loved being around the people that Shay called her family, even though most of them didn’t know you and Shay were a thing. The two of you didn’t mind people knowing, you just didn’t want to make telling people such a big deal. Severide and Dawson knew for sure as they were her best friends, and maybe some other people had guessed and just never mentioned it. There were however also a few people that were definitely still clueless, like Cruz and Otis, as they were about to prove to you once again, you realized when you saw them walk in with their eyes focussed on you.

“Good morning boys, how was the call?” You ask as you put some scrambled eggs and bacon on a plate for each of them. Cruz was quick to give you an answer, priding himself on saving the day. “I rescued an old lady from her house before it was engulfed in flames.” Otis quickly chimes in, “Not before I located her and told you where to find her.” It was adorable how hard they were trying. “Sounds like a great start to the day, then.” You smile.

You had been coming to prepare food at the station for a few months now. When Shay had breakfast duty one day she asked if you could prepare breakfast for take out at the restaurant, after she relayed the many compliments the team gave to the food, you had suggested coming over to cook breakfast in the firehouse once a week, much to Shay and the team's liking.

Not a day at the firehouse went by without Cruz and Otis trying to flirt with you. Not responding to their flirts or not showing the same interests back didn't stop them from trying every time, though. You had mentioned it to Shay after the first time it happened, wanting to be open about it. She just laughed at their antics with you, before she pecked your lips and told you, “You just tell them off or tell them about us if it gets annoying, okay?” So far, you had just found it funny, and decided to see how long they were going to keep this up, still not in any way giving them a signal that you were interested in them, of course.

You were still making scrambled eggs when Shay and Dawson got back from their call. They walked right up to you for their food, a cup of coffee, and of course they started a conversation with you. When they sat down with the rest of the team Shay overheard Cruz and Otis whispering amongst themselves. “We should start a bet on who will be able to get y/n to go on a date with them first.” She exchanges a look with Dawson, both of them working hard on keeping their laughter in. Shay, like you, thought their antics were hilarious, so she didn't stop them, unless you would get uncomfortable by it.

Shay joins the conversation of their other teammates. She gets tired of her hair in her face so she puts her hair up in a quick messy bun. “Wow, Shay, is that a hickey?” Mills gasps. Dawson turns Shay's head her way so she can see for herself. “Sure looks like a hickey, Mills, never seen one before?” The brunette jokes. The rest of the team starts bombarding your girlfriend with questions, you look over to the group as it starts quite the commotion. “Okay, okay, calm down. You all get one question.” Shay says, knowing these people well enough to know they were going to drop it.

Capp starts off the questioning round. “Is she hot?” He immediately gets a shove to the shoulder by Tony, “Was that seriously the best you could do?” After he shrugs, Shay answers, “Yes, she's very hot.” Mills goes next, “One night stand?” She shakes her head, “No.” The team shares a look before Casey asks the next question, “Does Severide know who it is then?” Severide answers that one, letting the team know that he does. Otis decides to ask the next question, “Do we know her?” Shay noticed that you were walking towards the table with your own plate of food. “Yes, you do.” She says. You can see their brains working overtime, and have to try to hold in your laugh, as you sit down besides Shay.

You share a look with Shay, letting her know that however she wants to handle this, it is okay with you. She smiles and puts her arm over the back of your chair. “It's really not that hard to think of a person that you all know.” She says, pulling their eyes back to her. The arm on your chair makes its way to your side, as she pulls you closer to her. “She's literally sitting right in front of you.” After finishing her sentence she places a kiss on your forehead and keeps holding you close. Most of the reactions to the news were comments along the lines of that’s great, congratulations, or you’ve got to keep this one around followed by Mouch pointing to the food and then giving a thumbs up. Of course, those reactions were all great, however, your favorite reactions were those of Cruz and Otis. Their eyes widened when they realized they had been flirting with Shay’s girlfriend for weeks.

The newly found information made the team quickly forget about the hickey that started the conversation, as the team was happy to see Shay so happy with you. They continued asking you both questions, how did you meet? and how long have you been together? until the alarm rang and all companies were being called to a scene. Shay kisses you before getting up, “Thank you for breakfast, baby.”

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#leslie shay #leslie shay x reader #chicago fire #chicago fire fanfic #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire x reader #one chicago x reader #one chicago #one chicago imagine #joe cruz #brian zvonecek #brian otis zvonecek #pockets celebration

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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months

Note

Maybe some fluff with Hobie when the main trop is that they are soulmates?

I honestly had no idea where I was going with this, it’s all over the place.

What’s a soulmate?

It’s a…it’s like a best friend but more.

It’s the one person who knows you better then anyone else, it’s someone who makes you a better person. Actually they don’t make you a better person, you do that yourself, because they inspire you.

A soulmate Is someone who you can carry with you forever. It’s the one person who knew you and accepted you, believed in you before anybody else did. Or when no one else would, and no matter what happens you will always love them; Nothing can ever change that. - Dawson’s Creek (never watched it but have heard the ‘what’s a soulmate?’ Clip more times then I can count.’

The term soulmates had been so firmly interchangeable with romantic connotations that many often forget that being soulmates with someone doesn’t necessarily mean that it was remotely romantic in the first place.

You can be soulmates with that one friend who’s stood by you through thick and thin, a family member, or a co-worker that you get along with very well, so much so that you might as well be the same person.

With that out of the way, let’s move onto yours and Hobie’s relationship.

To begin with, you and Hobie both thought that the idea of soulmates wasn’t something you’d fully put your faith into as to believe that you and someone else were tethered to one another, expected to love one another against your better judgment.

What if your soulmate was a twat? A down right godawful human being? What then? Are you still expected to love them even though everything they’ve ever done was morally and ethically wrong?

Fanfics, romance books and movies never bother to divulge into these topics, which is why you never truly trusted the so called ‘fairy tale ending.’

Soulmates didn’t exist, and even if they did, in what right mind would you have in ever wanting one?

‘What would you do if you found out you had a soulmate?’ You remember telling Hobie one day as you were both hanging out on a rooftop somewhere just a little ways of the pub you always relegated to at the weekends, or whenever Hobie and his band had a gig there.

‘I’d tell them that they’re full of shit and shouldn’t be believing in fairy tales, for they’ll always lie to you.’ Hobie replied, looking over at you from over his beloved guitar that he was previously tuning before laying it carefully down by his side. His actions made you chuckle as you sat up to stretch your arms over your head, grunting. ‘yeah, if you ever had a soulmate it’d be your damn guitar with how careful you are with it.’

Hobie gives you a good shove in the arm, ‘oh fuck off, what about you then?’

‘Hmm?’ You hummed.

‘What would you do if you found your soulmate?’ He echoed your question and for the first time, you didn’t know how to respond because if you had it your way, you’d would’ve wanted Hobie as your soulmate because in your eyes there was no one better then Hobie Brown. For Hobie was the best friend that always believed in you when you and seemingly everybody else you have ever met in your life have long since given up on you. But not Hobie, never Hobie.

Even during the times where you wanted him to leave you alone, he would always come back a good hour or two after with your favourite snacks in tow before he sits himself down next to you and offer to listen to what’s been eating away at you. When asked why, Hobie would look at you as though you grew a second head -even though you were quite certain in your friendship that Hobie wouldn’t give two shits if you were to grow a second head- before responding with; ‘you’re my mate and I need to be on the look out for you, even if you don’t want me to, I will, because there ain’t no way I’m letting you sit this one out on your own; we’re sitting out problems out together from now on.’ Hobie then proceeds to tuck you tightly into his side. ‘So don’t go hiding shit form me from now on, yeah?’

From then on you never once hide anything from Hobie; until one morning you found a tattoo or a marking of sorts in the shape of a electric guitar just on the inside of your wrist; Now this wasn’t just any old guitar, you knew the shape and model of the guitar like the back of your hand and from that morning onwards, you had been keeping your soulmate tattoo/mark covered by wearing long sleeved shirts or hoodies because you know if you were to conceal it in any other way and Hobie caught wind. You’d be fucked on a multitude of levels.

What you didn’t know what that Hobie was in the same predicament as you in regards of having a random tattoo/mark he doesn’t remember getting suddenly appearing on his body. He knew what it meant the moment he saw it, and ever since he’s been trying to find a seamless way to integrate it into a conversation with you that wouldn’t seem too out of left field. Hobie knows he’s a confident bloke but to drop this type of thing on you unexpectedly as though it was nothing, wasn’t the way he wanted to go about things you both adamantly shitted on previously.

Hobie also has a sneaking suspicion that this was why you had brought up the topic of soulmates when you did; because you also had a mark of your own. Ever since you’ve both been tucked away on the rooftop, he’s noticed how every so often you would subconsciously pull down the fabric of your hoodie/long sleeved shirt as though you were trying to hide something. but even with all your attempts of hiding your Mark, Hobie could often sometimes see glimpses of the neck of the guitar practically wink at him knowingly.

‘I dunno,’ you shrugged, ‘what can I do in that situation? I can’t say that I love them because I’m fated to them-‘

‘Why not?’ Hobie interjected.

You shrug again, ‘I want to at least get to know the person outside of the whole being my soulmate before I start saying anything in regards to liking them, never mind loving them.’ Once again Hobie caught you pulling down the fabric of your sleeve out of the corner of his eye before casting his eyes back to you.

‘What if your soulmate is closer then you thought?’ He asked as you furrowed your brows as you looked at him as a weird feeling befell you. It felt as though Hobie knew something you didn’t and your hand immediately went to your covered wrist, feeling over exposed all of a sudden as a flurry of thoughts rushed to the forefront of your mind all at once, overwhelming you to the point where it became hard to not only swallow but breath as well.

Hobie knew

He knew

Were the only thoughts that stuck out to you in that moment and in that moment, you honestly didn’t know what to do now that you were caught. You cursed yourself for not knowing any better as Hobie was as smart as they came but before you could start running your mouth with excuses, Hobie lifted one of his spiked cuffs slightly up his arm to show you his tattoo/mark.

However a question still remained unanswered; where do you go from here now that you found out that your best friend was your soulmate?

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huggybearluvr · 5 months

Text

Blue Eyes

( Nico and Mads AU )

Jack had talked you into going out to a bar with the team after the huge win against the bruins tonight.

You headed to your apartment after the game to swiftly change before heading to the bar. It was only about 5 minutes aaway from your apartment.

Once you had changed into less formal clothes you headed out to your car sending Jack a quick text that you were on your way over.

Once you arrived you parked your car and entered the bar. You scanned the room only seeing one red hoodie. You had hoped it was someone on the team. You headed over in that direction peeking aat the man in the hoodie. You locked eyes with the man seeing it had been Nico.

"Hey, I don't think we have formally met yet! I'm mads!" you said as you took the seat next to him.

He waited a moment before responding. He was to engrossed by the beauty of your eyes. He could get lost in them. He did.

"Oh, hey, Nico," He said swiftly looking back his drink in his hand.

"Great job tonight!" you said smiling before ordering a drink with the bartender, "Do you know when the others are getting here?"

"Should be soon," Nico laughed," The guys were arguing when I left." He said as he shook his head recalling the discussion in the locker room.

"Over what?" you asked.

"You, Dawson asked Jack for your number," Nico laughed once more remembering the looks on Jack and Luke's face at thier teammates bold words.

"Dawson Mercer? he has my number!" you spoke joining Nico in the laughter.

Your laugh sent shivers down Nico's spine, he never knew a laugh could sound so pretty.

He looked up to see your smiling face, however, his eyes decieved him, he looked to see jacks toothy grin walking through the door rather than you.

Jack quickly pounced next to you stealing a sip of your drink before ordering his own.

You shook your head at the boys antics. You knew he would be trashed sooner rather than later.

Nico noticed how the more yours brother drank the less you did. He even noticed when you switched form Jack and Coke to just Coke.

"Why aren't you drinking?" He asked as he sat besides you, the others lost running around the bar.

"Gotta keep an eye on those two goons," You said laughing as you watched your brothers arm wrestling in one of the boothes.

Nico smiled at you," It's nice to have someone else watching after them aswell."

"Thanks btw, for kinda looking after them, they can be a handful."

"They're good guys," He smiled, he looked up to you watching as your eyes danced around the room before landing back on his.

"Could I maybe get your number?" You asked smiling.

Nico smiled taking your phone and typing in the digits.

#smut #nico hischier #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier fic #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier smut #nhl smut #hockey smut #njd smut #new jersey devils

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equallyshaw · 5 months

Text

little lion | Luke hughes au! ↠ when luke and liona meet. - fic. ↠ au Masterlist!

warning: underage drinking. word count: 1.4k+

if her father knew whose highrise she was at, and what she was doing- he'd kill her. no, scratch that. he'd ship her to russia, have her grandmother lock her in the basement and never see the light of day ever again. to be frank, liona didn't even know how she ended up here to be quite honest. her and her group of friends since highschool had been invited to a party in newark at an off campus house and then the next thing she knew they were here, after getting a 'better invite'. her and her best friend rain, stood in the corner waiting for gavin and chris to come back with drinks for them. they saw them emerging from the kitchen, and liona sighed. "i cant believe chris scored an invite to a new jersey devils place!" rain whispered yelled and liona smirked. chris handed her a red solo cup, and gavin gave rain one. chris wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulder, and sipped some of his liquid.

gavin and rain began to talk about whatever was happening at law school, while chris and liona just listened. they had no knowledge or the logistics of their degrees, so they just took in all of it as well as the drama. the two ended up rambling on their own while chris and liona looked at one another, before laughing. "you going to see andrei soon?" chris questioned, and kailey shrugged. "i don't know, my dad wants me to come home to visit and offered the Carolina game but i don't know." she said finishing her cup. "im getting another one." she said raising it a bit, and chris nodded. "if you're not back in 5 minutes, im coming and finding you!" he announced and she nodded with a small smile. she weaved in and out of some people, finding her way to the kitchen. she set her sights on a seltzer that was in the open bowl of ice, and snatched it quickly. "is that the last cherry?" she heard to her right, and she looked through the other ones before turning to the person.

she turned to the right seeing a tall boy, brunette curly hair and hazel eyes. she swallowed before speaking, "uh there's no-no more." she stuttered pulling some hair behind her ear. he nodded, "can you hand me a random one then?" he questioned and she nodded enthusiastically and grabbed him a random one. "thanks-" he waited for her to fill in, "uh liona." she responded holding her hand out, he took it softly "luke." he responded, and they let go of eachother's hand. "do you know dawson?" he questioned and her eyebrows crinkling gave him her answer. "who?" she questioned and he chuckled softly. "my teammate, who are you here with?" he questioned. "you play hockey?" she asked softly and he nodded. oh fuck, she thought. "um im best friends with chris." she said and luke made a face of recognition. "i know who that is, he's pretty cool." he said and she smiled widely. "oh yeah definitely wouldn't have kept him around all these years if he wasn't." she tried to joke but it fell flat. she looked at the ground before both of them tried to speak at the same time, "do you wanna-?" and "im gonna go." the two of them blushed and chuckled softly. "would you wanna go somewhere and talk?" he questioned, and she looked back towards her friend group. "ummm.." she trailed off turning back to look at luke. "we don't have to, was just curious!" he said and she shook her head. "id like that, i just need to go tell my friends." she said pointing behind her. he nodded and followed her back into the living room. "hey guys im gonna go -" chris cut her off by greeting luke, and doing a bro hug with each other. gavin also bro hugged him, with rain and luke getting introduced to one another. "were gonna go talk for a bit, ill let you know when im ready to go?" kailey confirmed, and gavin pushed her playfully while chris just nodded. the two walked off towards the small movie room that dawson had.

next thing they knew, it was 2 in the morning and the two of them had been talking for a few hours at this point. then she dropped a bomb on him, "you're dad is the alex ovechkin?" he asked eyes wide and wonder lighting up his face. she nodded softly, "ye-yeah." she said shrugging while looking down at her converse. "oh well, that's really neat! you said your parents are not together right? was the schedule too much and stuff?" he asked and she shook her head, "no uh, once she found out she was pregnant with me..they had already broken up and he ended up fleeing back to europe before getting some sense knocked into him. but they used to fight like cats and dogs, some of my earliest memories typically ended up in a fight. so yeah, they couldn't get along longer than a few hours." she hummed, biting her lip nervously. he nodded, "im sorry kai- i mean liona." he stuttered and the way he said her middle name, was heaven. "y'know nobody has ever called me just kai before...but i liked it." she hummed while her cheeks became even rosier. "kai, huh?" he questioned with a glint in his eye, as he grinned. she nodded, "liona kai ovechkin...a mouthful." she hummed shrugging. "its perfect." he responded. "my dad though just says lion or little lion, because apparently im the forthcoming of him or i guess the second coming..." she trailed off with her eyebrows creasing in deep thought. luke found it all quite adorable.

"lion..lioness... definitely suits you." he mused and she snickered. "well if you'd like i can give you permission to call me kai." she teased and his head cocked to the side a tad bit. the two were sitting next to each other on the couch, knees only a mere inch apart. both of them looked over at one another, and luke was debating if he should do what he wanted to do. and that was kissing her. while liona was telling herself he did not like her, he was just being nice.

luke began to lean in and a his left hand quickly found her chin, pulling her softly closer as he stopped a few inches from it. his gaze had been focused on her pink lips, and now they were gazing in to her brown eyes. almost as if to ask if it was ok. she nodded softly once, and his lips were on hers. his right hand came up to her cheek, as she pulled him in a bit by the neck. but luke being the gentleman that he was (because queen ellen raised him right) he did not go any further. they pulled apart, chests heaving a bit as their foreheads rested against each other's. liona was about to lean in again but he pulled his face away by a few inches, and he could see how much that hurt the girl. she stood up, pulled down her shirt a bit by smoothing it and cleared her throat.

"kai-" he said but she put her hand up, not meeting his gaze yet. she shook her head, "its fine. i totally get it, i don't know what i was thinking there for a second." she paused ruffling up her hair a bit, and looked up at him. "its fine, im not sure any guys would want to be with me anyways. so its fine, luke." she rambled before spinning on her heel, and heading out to find her friends. the group had dissipated just a bit. chris was the first one to recognize her from the small group he was in, and quickly made his way over. once he reached her, he saw tear in her eyes. his face and tone in full protection mode, "what happened?" he asked checking her body for any brusies or cuts. she shook her head, "id just like to leave." she said as her voice cracked. he nodded profusely, wrapping an arm around her back and leading her out of the highrise.

not without luke seeing the whole scene play out, and his heart breaking just a bit as they left with his arm around her.

oh lukey... will be doing a follow up to this (:

please like and reblog if you liked!

tags: @cuttergauthier

#luke hughes #luke hughes au #luke hughes x ovechkin #little lion au #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fic #luke hughes imagine #new jeresy #new jersey devils #nhl #hockey #nhl blurb #hockey fic #nhl fic #hockey imagine #nhl imagine

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chicago-pd-is-weird · 2 months

Note

Hello! I wanted to ask if you could write an Antonio Dawson imagine where she’s his gf. Based on S3, Ep.14? The reader is Yates’ target. Antonio is worried about her & is more protective over her as everything is unfolding. As the reader is driving to Yates’ location he taunts Antonio through a video call saying he should’ve kept a closer eye on the reader or something along those lines.

At the end the reader shoots & kills him bc he tried to force himself onto her and when she fought back he wanted to kill her. Finally she breaks down when Hank and Antonio arrive but Antonio is there to comfort her & they go home together. Basically he’s there for her & expressing how he didn’t want her to lose her. And how he was thankful he arrived on time. Please & thank you!

Antonio Dawson x Fem!Reader

This was really fun to write, Anon! I took the episode and tailored it some, but I hope you like it nevertheless!

Requested by: Anonymous

Based on: 03x14 of Chicago PD - all ideas that come from it are not mine :)

TW: mentions of gore/violence as seen in the episode, mentions of stalking, attempted sexual assault

You returned home from New York. It was a horrible time, really. You hadn’t been able to recapture Greg Yates, no matter how hard you tried. As you looked out the car window, you felt a gentle hand come to your thigh, comforting you. You looked over to Antonio beside you, realizing how lucky you were to have him. “Hey,” he said softly. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll get him.”

“I know,” you hummed. “He’s heading back to Chicago. I’m sure of it.”

“His mistake. He’s on our land again. That’s how he was caught the first time.”

You took Antonio’s hand in yours, bringing it up to kiss his knuckles as he pulled up outside your apartment building. “I love you. See you later?”

“Let me walk you inside,” Antonio replied, getting out of the car to escort you.

“Come on, Toni, I’m a big girl with a big girl gun.”

Antonio hummed and pulled you close by your waist as you walked. He didn’t respond, but his body language told you everything. He was afraid something may happen to you, especially because Yates had taken a special interest in you in NY. Truthfully, you weren’t sure why, since you were nothing special.

Instead of fighting, you leaned into Antonio’s chest, looking up at him as you got into the elevator. “Toni, you’re scared.”

“Just trying to make sure my girlfriend is still around tomorrow.”

You sighed softly as the elevator got to your floor, taking his hand and pulling him with you and to your apartment. You keyed yourself in, then shut the door, taking off your coat and shoes. “Antonio Dawson, I love you, but you can’t completely shield me from the world. It’s no way to live. If Yates is coming after me, let him. What’s the difference between this and being undercover?”

Antonio sighed deeply, meeting your eyes. His were filled with deep concern, and he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you close. “It’s completely different,” he replied. “Being undercover, they don’t know anything about you, and they’re not targeting you. This bastard, Yates, he’s targeting you. He knows everything about you. I-I just don’t want you working this one. He’s going to get into your head.”

“Sounds like he’s already in yours,” you said with a shrug, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Look, Toni, the whole point is to not let him in. To not change. I’m going to keep working, just the way I always have.”

Antonio gently pressed his forehead to yours. “I can’t lose you,” he muttered, shaking his head. “If I lose you… I won’t know how to keep living.”

“You won’t lose me,” you reassured, gently nuzzling his nose with your own. “Hey, come here…” You gently pulled him to the couch, sitting on his lap and smiling a little, properly leaning in to kiss him. The kiss was deep and passionate, but kept a light tone to it, as you finally pulled away, but not far. You smiled again, whispering against his lips. “I love you, and nothing will ever change that. My love for you is so strong, I’d conquer death just to stay by your side.”

He smiled and pulled you back down for another deep kiss, hands wrapped fully around you, pulling your body as close to his as possible.

“(Y/N),” Antonio huffed as he followed you into the locker room, making sure nobody else was there before coming to your side. “You should stay at the district. I don’t like the idea of you being out there, with him, and neither does Voight.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re just being overprotective, Antonio. I am still a detective and a damn good one, too. I’ve been in lots of situations where I’ve needed to be careful.”

“He’s completely obsessed with you,” Antonio replied, shaking his head. “He looked up your neighborhood, where you live!”

“Which means he’ll eventually make a mistake. I can’t let him get in my head and neither can you. Now, come on, there’s been three more murders and one attempted.”

You grabbed your gun and badge, pinning them on your jeans, then pulled on your jacket. Shutting your locker, you gave Antonio one last look, telling him you were completely serious. He sighed and simply followed you, riding with you to the scene. You looked down at your phone as an unknown number popped up. You sent it to voicemail.

It was brutal. Three nurses had been killed, and the fourth had been taken to the hospital. It didn’t look good. They’d been beat and tortured, and one even had a hand cut off. You shuddered a little, seeing how all four women had suffered.

“Alright,” Voight said as you all walked outside. “Antonio, Jay, go check on the person who lives upstairs, Nelly. (Y/N) and I will go back to meet Benson and the others.”

You rode back to the station with Voight to meet the SVU, a little upset he took you out of the field, most likely at Antonio’s suggestion. You sighed as you walked in and to your desk, but put on a smile when Olivia Benson and the others on her team walked into the bullpen. You stood to greet them, getting them up to speed on everything they missed in the last few hours.

Some time later, Antonio and Jay arrived back, Antonio looking distressed as he went straight to Voight’s office. You looked down as your phone buzzed. Unknown number. You sent it to voicemail again.

After a fairly short conversation with Antonio, Voight called you in. You went inside, shutting the door behind you. “What’s going on?”

“We found this at the crime scene where Nelly was kidnapped,” he said, handing you a note.

Too bad you’re at the station, (Y/N). You’re missing all the fun.

You shuddered, looking at the familiar cursive handwriting. You glanced to Antonio and Voight, then set the note on the desk. “So? He’s taunting us. Playing us. We can’t let him win by reacting to this.”

Antonio sighed and put his hands to his head, obviously stressed. Voight looked over Antonio, then looked to you with a soft shrug. “The safest place for you is here.”

“What?” You retorted, frowning. “You can’t bench me, Sarge. That’s hardly fair.”

“No, no, he’s right,” Antonio huffed. “I’m sick of telling you, over and over, (Y/N). You shouldn’t be on this case. You’re too close to it. He’s obsessed with you.”

“I could say the same about you,” you huffed in reply, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms. “I am fine.”

Antonio took a few steps toward you, grabbing your shoulders. “Just please, stay here from now on. Until we catch him. Please.”

“It’s an order,” Voight confirmed. “Sorry, (Y/N), but my number one rule here is that everyone goes home at the end of the night.”

“I thought it was to tell you the truth so you can lie for us?” You rolled your eyes again, shrugging Antonio off you and walking out of the office. You sat at your desk, frustrated by the men benching you, especially when Yates was pining for your attention. They could use you to play him.

Everyone went back to their work, trying to find Yates. A few hours went by, and you rubbed your eyes, having been staring at the computer screen nearly the whole time. You let out a deep sigh, but looked up when Kim got the attention of everyone in the bullpen.

“The desk sergeant just called up. A package was just hand-delivered to the front desk, addressed to (Y/N).”

You stood, frowning. Everyone’s gaze shifted to you, then back to Kim, before eventually settling on Sergeant Voight. He looked around and nodded. “Evacuate. Bomb protocol. Someone call in the bomb squad.”

You grabbed your coat, heading outside with the rest of the unit. Antonio stood beside you, a hand on your back. You sighed. “A bomb? Not his style.”

“Maybe, maybe not. He could be trying something new.”

“He probably thinks he has to, since none of you will let me out of the district.”

Antonio sighed again, looking down at you. “It’s to protect you. Why can’t you understand that I just want to protect you?”

“I know you do, and I understand it, but being overbearing like this isn’t protecting me. It hurts me.”

“If it keeps you alive, I’m fine with that,” he said with a small sigh, kissing the top of your head.

You couldn’t help but lean into his shoulder. Because you were among the first out, you were near the back. Your relationship was known, of course, but you liked to keep things private as much as possible. “Jerk,” you mumbled. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied, leaning down to kiss you sweetly before pulling away as Voight and the head of the bomb squad came over.

“It’s not a bomb, we x-rayed it.”

“Then I’m going to open it,” you replied with a shrug, moving from Antonio’s arms and toward the box, which was now outside. You slit the box open with a knife and unfolded the flaps. Your face contorted as you found a human hand inside, figuring it was off of the body from earlier that morning. You slowly reached in, pulling out a note that the hand was holding. Swallowing hard, you opened it.

Why won’t you answer when I call?

You frowned, showing the note to Antonio and Voight, then pulling out your phone as it vibrated in your pocket. You looked to them. “It’s a video call,” you said softly. You hit record on your phone before answering, holding it up so you could be seen in the camera.

“(Y/N),” Yates said, holding the camera out so that you could see him and Nelly. “So nice to see you.”

“What do you want from me?”

“You remind me of someone, that’s all. I like seeing you around.”

You hummed. “Is this what you wanted? Attention?” You turned the camera to show everyone around you. “Cause we’re all here.”

“It’s nice, but what I really want is you. We should meet up sometime. Just the two of us.”

“Let the girl go, maybe we can talk.”

“Mmn…” He hummed and held the girl tighter. “You’ll have to find her.”

“If you wanted her, why kill the others?”

He huffed. “Oh no, you’re trying to get me to confess. You’ve got people there, witnesses. Not only that, but I could probably guess that you’re recording me, aren’t you?”

“Just tell me where you are. We’ll talk.”

“Come and find me.”

With that, the camera dropped, showing a picture frame, then the call cut out. You frowned, furrowing your brow and looking to Voight and Antonio. Mouse started to swear, stomping his foot. “The trace couldn’t go through in time. We don’t have him.”

You sighed, playing back the video. You zoomed in on the picture at the end, then gasped. “Guys… I know where he is.” You turned the phone around to show them a picture of you and Antonio from when you first began dating. “That’s in my apartment.”

Antonio’s eyes widened, and he looked to Voight, who nodded. “Let’s hit it. Get the rest of the team.”

You rode beside Antonio, holding his hand and squeezing it. “It’s gonna be alright,” you said softly, though you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. Antonio didn’t say anything, just humming in reply. When you pulled up, the whole team gathered and breached your apartment. There was no sign of Yates, but the girl was stowed away in your closet. You helped her up and stayed with her until she got back to the district.

The detectives from NY promptly interviewed Nelly, finding that she was Yates’ birth sister. The mother detailed that she put him up for adoption in South Carolina when he was young, because he had been a psychopath since birth. They found Yates to be in a frenzy now, wanting revenge on his mother. It gave you hope, thinking that you may just be able to catch him. They planned to raid his mother’s place.

“(Y/N),” Voight said, moving to your desk. “You’re not coming.”

You huffed. “Sarge, not this again.”

“Stay here with Nelly and her mother. They need you.”

With that, Vought walked away. You frowned as you watched him go before Antonio came into your view. You looked up at him. “Yeah, I know, he just told me I can’t go. I don’t have to hear it from you.”

Antonio hummed, looking you over as he leaned his hands on your desk, then leaned down to give you a deep, tender kiss. You blushed, but reciprocated. You loved him. How could you resist? Knowing he could die at any point, every time he left the bullpen, especially if you weren’t there to have his back. You gently reached up, standing to meet him again, and massaged his shoulders. “Hey…” you said softly. “Just… Don’t let him hurt you, okay? If he’s obsessed with me, it means you’re also in danger.”

Antonio hummed and pulled you close, rubbing your back as he embraced you. “I won’t let him get to you. Promise.”

“That’s not what I asked, Antonio,” you huffed, holding him tighter. “Please.”

“I love you. I’ll do whatever it takes to fight for you and protect you, until my last breath.”

Tears came to your eyes. You silently hoped that it wasn’t a trap of some kind, swallowing hard. “Okay,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper. “I love you too.”

He kissed your head, then gently cupped your cheeks, wiping your stray tears away. He kissed you again softly before leaving to suit up with the rest of the team. You swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath, wiping your face and sinking back down to your desk.

“Hey, it’ll be alright,” Mouse said, trying to comfort you.

You looked to him, offering a half-hearted smile. “Thanks.” You sniffled and let out another breath, then tried to focus on the paperwork on the case, pouring over it again to ensure nothing was missed.

After about a half hour, Nelly came to your desk, frenzied. Someone was calling her phone from her dad’s, but it wasn’t him. It was the man who had kidnapped her. You quickly took the phone and instructed her to go back into the room she’d come from, snapping at Mouse to get him to trace the call. You then lifted the phone to take the video call, seeing Yates with Nelly’s father in-hand.

“So good to see you again,” Yates said with a smile. “Oh, sweet (Y/N), what would I do without you?”

“What did you do for the years before you met me?”

“I dunno…” he hummed.

“I figured out who I remind you of.”

“Yeah?”

You walked into the break room, shutting the door. “Your mother.”

Yates huffed a little, tipping his head. “Yeah? Yeah. I guess you do.” He hummed again and stared intently into the camera, as if he could see into your soul. “So, have you figured out where I am, yet? Or, are you going to let this man just die?”

You looked up as Mouse came to the window with an address. You read it over, connecting the dots. “Yes,” you said into the camera. “Your childhood home.”

“Then come. Come and see me, (Y/N)… Or else, he will die. And come alone. I detest those men who decided to leave you behind. So ungrateful. You deserve the same chance they do. You won’t have to prove yourself to me. I already know you. Everything about you.”

“I’ll come,” you said softly.

“See you soon.” Then, the call ended.

You shuddered, setting the phone on the table before quickly grabbing your coat, running to the parking lot. You grabbed your car, driving to the address and calling Voight to let him know. He told you not to engage, but you knew you couldn’t follow that order. You apologized as you put your foot further onto the gas and sped to Yates’ location.

Meanwhile, Antonio pushed the gas pedal as much as he could, knowing you were in danger and might do something stupid. “Dammit, (Y/N),” he mumbled. Suddenly, his phone rang, and he answered the video call, settling his phone in a cradle on his dash so he could pay attention to the road as well as the video.

“Well, well, well,” Yates’s voice rang out. “If it isn’t the infamous Detective Dawson. You should’ve kept a closer eye on her. You know you can’t save her now, right? She’s going to be mine.”

“Like hell she is!”

“But she’s rushing to my side. She’s coming to save me. And then she’ll be mine. She’ll be mine forever. I’ll be the last thing she sees. The last thing she feels. My name will be the last word on her lips. And you? You will be nothing.”

“You really think that? No. She doesn’t love you. None of those girls loved you!”

Yates huffed and rolled his eyes. “Dear Antonio Dawson, doesn’t even know what love is. Love is seeing the life go out in her eyes, slowly fading away, while she grips to you and pleads out your name.”

Antonio hit the gas pedal to the floor, gripping the wheel as tightly as he could. He was so ready to beat Yates to a pulp. “You lay one finger on her, and I’ll kill you myself.”

“It’ll have been worth it in the end, because she’ll join me in the afterlife.” Yates then looked up, smiling. “Oh, she’s here. I’ll see you soon, Antonio.” The call promptly ended.

Antonio punched his steering wheel, growling as he raced across the busy Chicago city to save you.

You climbed the steps, your gun gripped between your hands, finger on the trigger. You found Yates in a room upstairs with a large hole in the floor. He was holding Nelly’s father over the hole in a chair, a noose wrapped around his neck. “Hello there,” he said softly. “Oh, (Y/N), please come in.”

“Let him go.”

“I don’t think you want me to do that… You know I’m the only thing that’s holding him up, right?”

You sighed, then pulled your hands up, holstering your gun. “Fine. Then let’s talk. You untie him and let him leave here. Then you and I can talk.”

Yates hummed, looking you over. You disliked the way his eyes roamed your body, swallowing hard. He smiled a little. “Uncomfortable?” He asked. “I’m just undressing you a little. I wonder what you look like under there.”

You bit your inner lip, trying to keep your hands from shaking. “Just let him leave here, and we’ll talk. Just you and me. You know you’re running out of time.”

Yates hummed again, then sighed. “Yes, well, he will have to leave here, won’t he?” And with that, he let the chair go, the man going over. The chair fell to the ground, but the man hung in the hole. You gasped, looking down at him. Yates took the chance to grab you, pushing you against the wall. He let his hands roam your body, including your chest and crotch. You cried out, hands pinned at your sides as he pushed his body weight against you, then eventually pushing you to the ground. “You’re everything I imagined you to be, (Y/N),” he mumbled, pushing his lips to your neck and biting down, making you cry out in pain as his teeth broke your skin. He then sucked and licked at the mark he’d given you, grinding down on you, as he was now on top.

You panicked, whimpering and trying to get to the gun on your hip. He growled and pushed down on you harder. “Stop it. Stop!” He grabbed at your arms to subdue you. “Stop fucking fighting me! Stop it, or I’ll fucking kill you! Just like Nadia! Just like those nurses! Just like all the others!”

In the chaos, finally, you grabbed the gun and pointed it at him, shooting him in the chest. The bullet went straight through his heart.

He fell limp immediately on top of you, his blood pouring onto your body from the wound. You cried out again, tears rolling down your face as you pushed his body weight off you. Then, you stood and pointed the gun at him, your hands shaking, ready to pull the trigger if he moves again, even twitched. You didn’t take your eyes off him.

Antonio and Voight got there very soon after, seeing the scene, and you shaking. Voight slowly pushed your arms down to lower your gun. Antonio checked the body, confirming he was dead.

“I-I-I had to,” you mumbled, sniffling and breathing shakily as sobs came to your throat. “I had to!”

“I know,” Voight said softly, gently taking your gun from you and putting it in his own waistband. “It’s okay, (Y/N).”

Antonio came to you quickly, checking you over. He examined your chest, where the blood had stained your shirt, but finding no injury, he turned to your neck. “Hey, we’ll get an ambo here to check you out.”

“Antonio…” you whimpered, your knees buckling beneath you.

He caught you with ease, picking you up bridal style and carrying you out of the room and downstairs. He set you down outside in the grass, still holding you up to stand. “It’s okay, (Y/N), it’s okay. He hurt you. It was a clean shoot.”

“I-I…” You sobbed softly into his shoulder as he held you tightly. “H-He…”

“Shh,” he shushed you. “You don’t have to explain to me. It’s okay. It’s all okay.”

Hours later, after speaking with internal affairs, the paramedics, and anyone else who had questions, you were finally allowed to go home.

Antonio drove you, holding your hand the whole time. Then, he escorted you up to your apartment and inside, helping you into your bedroom. He helped you undress, taking the blood-stained clothes and throwing them in the trash. He knew exactly how you felt about them, without you even having to say. He helped you into the shower, then let you have some time alone as he made some tea for you.

You turned the shower hotter, as hot as it would go, letting it scald your skin. You didn’t know what else to do. You didn’t know what to feel. You didn’t know what to say. The knot in your stomach intensified, making you sick. You heaved up the contents of your stomach and then some, feeling like you had thrown up your entire insides. Your throat burned as you watched it wash down the drain. You fell to your knees as your body betrayed you, sobbing softly. You simultaneously felt everything and nothing. You were so overwhelmed that you were numb. You sobbed yourself sick, heaving now as nothing else came up. You pushed your head against the shower wall, which was cool in comparison to the water. You sobbed and heaved, trembling on the floor of your shower for what felt like days, though only mere minutes before you regained yourself. Your body was still weak, but you managed to turn the shower off. The steam hugged you, even in the absence of the scalding water. You slowly pushed yourself up to get out, then got a towel to dry yourself. You sat on the toilet, swallowing hard as you played out the scenario in your mind, over and over.

What had you been thinking? Antonio was right. You never should’ve left the district. You would’ve been safe there. You trembled as the air grew cooler, leaving bitter kisses on your wet skin. You swallowed hard again, then stood, stumbling into your bedroom and finding some clothes to put on. You were able to find some underpants, but then you found some old sweatpants of Antonio’s that he had left previously. You also found one of his old CPD shirts from the academy. Putting them on, the smell of him comforted you in his physical absence. It helped to soothe your mind, thus soothing your body.

Moving shakily into the living area of your apartment, you looked around for Antonio. He was in the attached kitchen, looking at something on the counter, then turning around with two mugs of tea in his hands. He stopped when he saw you. “Hey…” he said softly. “You look pale…”

You blinked slowly, suddenly exhausted. You moved to the couch, sitting down on one side of it. Antonio moved in beside you, setting the mugs on your coffee table. He put his hands to your face, his fingers surprisingly cold. It felt good to you. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes.

“(Y/N)…” he murmured, gently holding your face. “What you did in there… it was the right thing to do…”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you mumbled. “Please… just… hold me…”

“I can do that,” he whispered, nodding and pulling you into his lap, allowing you to sit sidesaddle. He brushed wet strands of hair from your face, grabbing your mug of tea for you. “Here, sip.”

“Toni…” you mumbled, shaking your head. “I just threw up all of my insides…”

“Just sip. You’ll feel better. Please.”

You sighed, but took a small sip of the tea, swallowing it before resting your head on his shoulder. He set the tea down, and rocked you gently, kissing your head and whispering sweet things in your ear for a while before just rocking you in silence.

“I’m sorry,” you finally whispered, breaking the silence.

“(Y/N)…”

“I should’ve listened to you… to Voight…”

Antonio sighed softly. “What’s done is done… I am always here for you… no matter what you choose. I just… I almost lost you today… I never want to lose you. You and my kids, you’re the best things to ever happen to me. I never want to lose any of you. That’s why I have this job. Taking these guys off the streets so that they don’t hurt you or Diego or Eva.”

“I know,” you mumbled, pushing your face into his neck, accidentally reminding yourself of the bite mark on your own. Your hand moved up to feel at the tender skin, wincing as you ran the pads of your fingers across every groove his teeth had left. You sniffled, trying not to cry again.

“Hey, hey,” Antonio gently grabbed your hand, holding it instead so you couldn’t feel the mark. “Shh, you’re safe now. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

“I love you,” you whispered, sniffling again as a stray tear escaped your eye.

“I love you too, (Y/N).” He rubbed your back with his free hand, just holding you, all night long.

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