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[lavenders-bath]

I Bid This Bitch Goodbye

Summary: As Tony Khan's niece and junior producer, you were placed in charge of an auction event where fans can win a date with their favourite wrestlers.

But when you spy a face that has caused you nothing but trouble, you are determined to bring this bitch to the ground.

Notes: I meant to post this yesterday but oh well. Happy late birthday, Hook.

4339 words.

There was nothing particularly special about you. You were just an ordinary woman with an ordinary life, ordinary parents, and an ordinary education. You supposed the fact that your uncle-in-law happened to be a billionaire made you a little less ordinary than some others, but you never let it get to your head. Whilst in highschool you refused to let anyone know that were in close connections to such major businessmen in the sports industry. They would have flipped. 

The friends you made were genuine and you were thankful for that… but unfortunately the enemies you made were also genuine. Right bitches they were. 

You did try to make a living for yourself at first by working in a gas station, however, you weren’t really going anywhere with minimum wage, and the offer to work with your uncle in his new wrestling company was always on the table sooooo why not? A little career push never hurt anyone. 

You were now a junior producer, learning the backstage roles that made up the AEW family that you were so warmly welcomed into with open arms. Everyone seemed to like you there and you gained many friends in your first few months, Hook being one of the wrestlers you’d grown especially close with, originally getting along because of your similar ages, and now you acted as if you’d been friends since childhood. 

Of course, like any good childhood friend, he loved to mess with you and tease you, for example whenever you’re tasked to call him to the ring he thinks it’s a funny idea to go wandering around backstage, forcing you to go on a wild goose chase trying to find him. 

—

“I need to start keeping an air tag on you”. 

“Or maybe you should start being good at your job?” 

“I’d actually be able to do my job if you weren’t constantly playing hide and go seek”. 

—

Such a child… 

Or how about the few times he snatched the clipboard straight out of your hands and held it above his head where you couldn’t reach? 

— 

“Just give it back. I need to get back to work”. 

“No one’s stopping you from working”. 

“There very clearly is someone stopping me”. 

— 

What a dick… 

But! Today, he would regret all those times where he’d taken advantage of your job and made you look like a fool. He would be at your complete mercy and like hell would you take any pity on him; you were going to have your own back on this guy and he was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy watching it. Just like any good wrestling match. 

You walked through the hall with a proud smile glued to your face, looking forward to seeing the faces of over-adoring wrestling fans, full of hope that they can outbid everyone else for a date with some of the most favourite wrestlers AEW had to offer. 

As the organiser, you were one of the first people to arrive, only a couple of other producers and stagehands present who were setting up chairs - which were most likely to be discarded once they were in such close proximity to the wrestlers. 

Oh, revenge was sweet indeed. You made this happen, Y/N. You’re an absolute genius. 

When you proposed the idea of a charity fundraiser to your good ol’ uncle Tony about auctioning off dates with the wrestlers - not only to boost good publicity, but to give something to young children who had dreams of wrestling professionally - he immediately fell in love with the idea and told you to start making plans and secure some good people for the event. 

Those wrestlers needed to be put to good use anyway. You knew they were good for something. 

“Hey, have we got enough chairs for everyone?” you asked one of your colleagues who was setting up the seating. 

“Uhh I think so. If not, only a few people will have to stand”. 

You hum in response and start setting up the microphone and speakers before your sound guy arrives to take over. You’d hoped he would arrive soon because you had no fucking clue what you were doing. You were just tired of walking around watching everyone else do stuff. 

Whilst playing with the buttons of the soundboard, a loud, ear-piercing boom echoed through the hall, accompanied by a few pained cries you’d caused people. 

Oh, the cringe. 

You practically threw the microphone down and stepped away from the area you were working on. 

Best to leave it to the professionals. 

“Good idea. Deafen us so we can’t hear the screaming superfans later”. 

You turned to the sound of Hook’s voice to see him at the very end of the hall having just walked through the door. Just your luck for him to walk in as you embarrass yourself. But your luck was about to get better. 

“Thank you”, you replied genuinely, watching his figure moving in your direction. “You’ll need it when they’re screaming in your ears all night. Probably in more ways than one knowing your record”. 

He laughed softly and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as he stood only a few feet away from you. 

“Hah you got me there, huh? A manwhore? Is that what you women call ‘em?” 

You shot him a warm, patronising smile. “Only behind your back”. You quickly changed your mind. “Oh who am I kidding? I call you that to your face”. 

You brushed past him, abandoning your post at the soundboard to help finish setting up the chairs, Hook closely following behind like a loyal puppy with his owner. 

“Nah I wouldn’t do that. Not with a fan, at least”. 

“Why’s that, fuckboy?” You joked. 

“Very funny”, he responded, rolling his eyes. “I’d feel like I'm taking advantage of their love and adoration for me or something like that. Not that I’d blame them of course”. 

You immediately stopped what you were doing and sent him a raised eyebrow. Like you’d believe that story. In the time you had known him, Hook had numerous women hanging off his arm (and that was only from what you had seen on social nights out with work), and sometimes those numerous women would be on one occasion. You were grateful you didn’t share the same hotel with him. Those were sounds you most definitely did not want to hear. 

He seemed to have noticed the scepticism written on your face and spoke before you had a chance to reply. “You don’t believe me?”, he asked in subtle disbelief. “I can be a gentleman, you know?” 

“You? A gentleman? I bet you’ve never even dated a girl before. I’ve only ever seen you walk out of bars with these ‘female friends’ of yours”. Despite ultimately joking, your teasing did have some truth behind it. For the four years you’d known him, you had never known this man to go out on a single actual date like to a restaurant or the movies or something cheesy like that. 

It didn’t bother you, of course. Or at least that’s what you kept on telling yourself. You had no reason to be jealous; you didn’t even like him in that way nor had you ever thought about him romantically. That was partially true until this moment. 

Sure you appreciated him, just the same as you appreciated all your hot friends. You work in the wrestling industry full of strong, sweaty, fit guys and girls. What did you expect? 

Fine! You admitted Hook was easy on the eyes. So what? It’s not like you’d ever wondered what those perfectly sculptured muscles he so proudly displays in the ring yet modestly covers underneath his hoodie felt like. And it never once crossed your mind what was so addictive about running your hands through his tousled hair as you’d seen him among all the women do repeatedly. 

Nope. None of that. Not. At. All… 

… 

… 

… 

It couldn’t be that soft, right? 

Stop those intrusive thoughts, Y/N! It would never happen anyway. 

“You’ll see one day”, he defended, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I’m just trying to have fun whilst I’m still young. I’m not rushing life like you seem to be doing”. 

You sensed that you may have struck a nerve with the harsh tones in his voice as he looked at you expectedly, although you quickly felt awkward, a little ashamed of yourself for criticising his early life choices and perhaps taking your jokes a little too far. 

A big apology would have to wait, though, as there was so much shit to be done before the event started and it would have been unfair if you weren’t pulling your weight enough. After all, this was your chance to show your uncle that you had what it takes to progress in the company. 

Temporarily moving the problems with Hook to the back of your mind, you opened your mouth to speak a quick ‘sorry’ with the intention of making it up to him later like buying him a drink or something. However, another voice from only a few feet away echoed through the spacious hall. 

“Hey, who’s been messing with this setup?” 

Your sound guy must have come in without you noticing because you whipped your head around to see his face scrunched up with such confusion and frustration. You winced and turned away, pretending you didn’t know anything. Perhaps there was time for one long, drawn out apology. 

Never had you been more relieved to be made fun of, hearing the sound of a snicker from a certain hooded figure standing before you to which you smiled lightheartedly in response. You should have known he wouldn’t stay mad at you for long. 

What seemed like what was meant to be the end of the conversation clearly wasn’t because Hook still insisted on standing opposite you, staring and twitching his nose as if something was bothering him. 

“What do you want?” You asked, not wasting any time and getting back to setting up chairs. 

“What makes you think I want something?” 

“Oh I’m sorry. Don’t you?” Sarcasm was basically your second language. 

Hook was silent for a few seconds, allowing yourself to secretly smirk whilst your back was turned away from him. Just wait for it. 

“Okay yeah I do want something”. Bingo. You were right as always. “I need you to bid for me”. 

You scoffed into a breathy laugh. He couldn’t be serious, right? That’s like straight up asking you on a date without actually saying it and with a lot more complications than there needed to be. He continued. 

“I’d give you the money back, I swear. I just really really don’t want to date a fan who’s desperate enough to be here to win a date with me. It’ll be chaos”. 

As much as you questioned the cruel wording, you understood where his point was coming from. The entry fee in itself was five-hundred dollars and these people would have had to have been glued to their screen, waiting for the tickets to go on sale. On top of that, they wouldn’t even guarantee a date because they’d still have to bid a ridiculous amount of money in the auction. 

You’d love to help him but you already had your sweet sweet revenge all planned out. 

“Ooo it’s sooooo nice that you’re willing to give all that money to charity, and I’d hate seeing you at the mercy of some overbearing girl - or guy for that matter - buuut no. I’m not going to bid for you. It’d be wrong of me since, if you haven’t noticed, I’m running the whole thing”. 

Hook’s silence spoke volume as he now knew exactly how you felt about him being in this auction. 

“Bitch…” he muttered, turning to the side. 

Gasp! 

“What was that?” you asked sternly, finally facing him, not having stopped setting up the chairs until now. 

“I said I… need to talk to Mitch”. He pointed to one of the guys on the other side of the room and pretended to approach him. 

You sighed before calling out whilst he was still within a few feet away, “His name is Thomas”. 

“Then I need to talk to Thomas, bitch”. 

“Oh just fuck off”. The conversation ended with you indignantly laughing at his teenager-y antics. 

— 

Every single chair that you among others had placed had someone sat in it - well, they were all allocated, at least. One crazed fan that caught your eye was standing, of course, violently shaking the person next to her who you really hoped was her friend and not some stranger she was using as a human cocktail shaker. 

It was show time. Honestly, you had no other job than to make sure everything was in check, ensuring that the auction went as you had envisioned. No introduction was needed as Tony Shiavone (who was way too happy to be the announcer for a change) went straight to it, announcing the first wrestler up for grabs, and you were quite content standing off to the side where you could watch the whole show as well as watching the crowd. 

“Coming in from St. Marks Place, he’s cold-hearted, he’s definitely handsome, and the girls go crazy for him”. 

Ha ha! Although it was the first auction, this was definitely the main event in your opinion. The one you had been looking forward to the most. 

“Weighing in at 202 pounds, he currently holds the championship for the best single life. He’s Hoooooooooook!” 

If the pool of merchandise wasn’t enough to figure out exactly how big of fans these people were, the screaming made it all too obvious. You hardly heard his song playing due to a mix of the yelling and the (hopefully temporary) deafness it caused you. 

Seeing Hook walk on stage as just himself without the aloof persona he puts on was strange to say the least. It felt as though all these people got to experience a side to him that only you had the pleasure of seeing, which you knew was absolutely ludicrous because you weren’t the only person in his life. Perhaps it was the fact that these ‘people’ were the women who were about to pay a ridiculous amount of money at a chance for his heart. 

Was this what jealousy felt like? 

No, of course not. You had no reason to be jealous. You were about to relish in the suffering he was about to endure by one of these fans. 

But what if the date… went well? What if he actually started a relationship with that woman? What would that mean for the two of you? 

You desperately tried to shake your head out of those thoughts. He said he wouldn’t romantically involve himself with a fan anyway. 

…but what if-? No! Shut up, Y/N! 

Hook’s eyes immediately met yours, eyebrows raising as if to say ‘wish me luck’, to which you smirked in a reply, reminding yourself that this whole event was meant to be enjoyable for you. 

“And we’ll start the bidding at three-hundred dollars. Oh straight in with the three-hundred”. 

The bids came in so fast that you could hardly comprehend how many bidding paddles were flying up in the air until they began to slow down as the price continued to rise to those outrageous prices you were waiting to hear. 

“Two-thousand dollars to the woman in the front here. Is there a twenty-one-hundred here?” 

The higher the bids came in, the fewer women that were left standing, eventually cutting it down to just two, and then to one, and boy were they desperate. 

“That’s five-thousand dollars to the woman at the front going once”. 

Pause. You peered at the lucky lady who had won the date with Hook and what came into your view could have made your body implode from how badly your blood was boiling. 

“Going twice”. 

Pause. It couldn’t be her, could it? But that long golden blonde hair and sharp facial features were completely undeniable. 

“Aaand-” 

“Five-thousand one-hundred!” Your voice spoke out before you even had time to think, your glare not having left the woman who stood on the front row. Her disgusting victorious smile returned her natural hideous jealous scowl you’d known for years which whipped in your direction as probably many other heads, including Hook’s, did - not that you were paying any attention to anyone else now that the woman who had been harassing you for almost two years was here in front of you. 

You were lucky you hadn’t spoken to the audience yet because you feared what kind of backlash you and the company would have received if anyone knew you - an organiser - started bidding in their own event. 

“Two-hundred!” Her voice fought back to which you quickly retaliated with a hundred dollars more. Like hell was this bitch going to get what she wanted. 

You knew Petra from highschool. She was one of those who thought she and her friends were oh so much better than you because of how much makeup they wore and how trendy their new Prada outfit was. She even bragged about her grades from time to time. After all, she did a lot of grinding on hard work to achieve those. 

“Six thousand!” 

Where the hell was she getting this money from? 

You presumed she was rich all these years, but not ‘I’m gonna buy myself a famous boyfriend’ rich. 

“Seven!” You on the other hand had no reason to worry about money. One huge benefit of working in your uncle’s business was the generous pay. Uncle Tony really did not hold out when it came to paying his staff. 

You could see Hook’s perplexed look from beneath his hoodie directed at you, most likely wondering why you had such the change of heart, but you couldn’t let your focus drift away from the burden sitting on the front row. She must pay. 

After you graduated and All Elite Wrestling had taken off, word had gotten out that you were Tony Khan’s niece, so when you mistakenly decided to post on Instagram about your new job there, the number of private messages you had received from people you had hardly spoken to in the past came flooding in, asking if you could get them tickets, or arrange a meet and greet with their favourites. 

You’d decided to ignore all of them, however, there was one who was painfully persistent that you eventually had to tell them to shut the fuck up because it was never gonna happen. That person was, of course, Petra. Every week or so it was all ‘Can you set me up with Hook?’, ‘Oh my god isn’t Hook just the hottest?’, and ‘Can’t you do this for me after all you put me through in high school?’ 

Who the hell did she think she was? A princess? Not everything isn’t her fault. 

You didn’t fail to notice the slight panic in her widened eyes after you raised the price by another thousand dollars. 

Where’s daddy’s allowance now, bitch? 

She hesitantly gestured to Shiavone to up the bid another hundred, however, now you knew she was running short of money, you felt you could wrap this up pretty swiftly. 

“Eight-thousand dollars”, you said with a smirk. You were definitely going over your limit and you’d probably have to budget your shopping for a couple of months, but boy would it be worth it in the end to see that smug face wiped clean off. 

“Nine-thousand dollars!” How many sugar daddies does this girl have? She probably knows she can leave and suck someone’s dick for another 1k. 

No matter how she got the money, you knew you had more. 

“Ten–thousand dollars!” The murmurs and Petra’s silence spoke all. You saw her visibly gulp and glance around the floor in disbelief. She wasn’t going to find another two thousand dollars on the floor so you really did not know what she could have been looking around for. She lost her pride a long time ago and she sure as hell wasn’t going to find it here. 

“And the date with Hook goes to uhh… the lady over there for ten-thousand dollars!” 

You sent Tony a small, thankful smile for not telling everyone who you were, and you were quite surprised that Petra hadn’t said anything appalling yet given she too knew that you had to have had a part in this event. She’d even begged you for weeks in advance if you could rig the event for her. In hindsight, you really shouldn’t have been at all shocked to see her here. 

One of the backstage crew gestured for you to follow them to which you obliged, leaving the noise of disappointed groans behind you. One glance at Hook before you disappeared behind the curtain told you that this situation was just as awkward for him as it was now for you. 

Your mind scoured for a suitable justification as to why you might have spoken up when you did. 

You could say it was for charity? Those unfortunate kids were about to be bathed in riches and opportunities with the amount of money being thrown at them. 

Not having any faith in your poor, disingenuous excuse, and seeing Hook making his way towards you, you decided that perhaps it would be better if you simply told him the truth. It was a valid reason after all. You wanted Hook to suffer for all the teasing he had done to you in the past but you didn’t want to torture him to death. 

“Is that why you decided to work here?” 

You stared at him with a puzzled look and he continued. 

“Because you’re a secret superfan?” 

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed and whilst waiting for an actual response to come to your mind, another half laugh, half scoff filled the silence, making his claim seem like the truth. You had not joined the AEW team because you were a Hook superfan (because you weren’t), but over the years of working alongside him in the background, you had naturally become one of his biggest fans. 

“Yeah, you wish”. You regretted the poor excuse for a comeback as soon as it left your lips. 

“Sooo are you gonna tell me why you just bid for me or are you gonna stand there all awkward?” He asked after a long hesitation. 

Yep. The truth is better than an obvious lie. 

“I knew the other woman from high school and trust me when I tell you that I was doing you a favour. She’s a slut. A tart. A whore if you will. I swear in God’s name if I ever see her again I will-” 

“Alright alright I get it. You can tell me more on our date”. 

You were glad Tyler decided to interrupt you there as you hadn’t even realised your hands clawing at thin air as if choking the very woman you hadn’t been able to get out of your life since you started working here. She had caused nothing but distractions and… 

Wait, what? 

“Date?” 

Hook chuckled at your doe eyes. “You won fair and square, right?” 

“Well yeah but I didn’t realise that– I didn’t think– I thought you wouldn’t– okay, a date sounds great”. 

“Are you sure? I didn’t think you’d want to date a ‘fuckboy’ like me”. 

Ah shit. Yeah you forgot about that. Well you supposed now would be a better time than any for an apology. 

“Look I really am sorry for that. I was–” 

“It doesn’t matter. You weren’t completely wrong. But I won’t be like that with you. How about tonight?” 

You sent a warm smile of relief. Perhaps you had just been in denial all this time because you were suddenly super excited for this date with this good-looking, hilarious, kind friend of yours. 

“Sounds perfect. It’ll probably be late, though. I have to help clean up”. 

“I’ll wait, don’t worry”. 

He edged past you and left you with your heart feeling like it was about to burst out of your chest and with butterflies hitting every inch of your stomach lining. The shaky breath you let out was quickly sucked back in when two hands gripped your hips and pulled your body close to theirs. 

“I like it when you're nervous around me. Cocky didn’t suit you”, Hook muttered in your ear. Every part of you tingled now and you felt you could hardly move. 

That would’ve been awkward if it wasn’t Hook. 

You managed to turn your body, watching him make his way to the back door, looking like he was walking down a fashion runway or something. 

Before he could reach for the handle, you called out to him, not letting him get away with the comment you had just realised he made. 

“You’re still going to pay me back, though, right?” 

He turned with a smirk and without saying anything, stuck both his middle fingers up at you before leaving the building. 

Smug bastard… 

You spent the remainder of the day with a gigantic grin plastered upon your face. You hadn’t dared show yourself on stage as the organiser after your little showdown with Petra, and you had hoped that all of those people out there would never figure out who you were either. 

Perhaps she would leave you alone now after that whole ordeal, knowing that she lost and would finally be able to accept that she will never be able to get to Hook through you. You had to give her some credit, however, because without her, some other girl would have won and you would never have been given this date opportunity. 

Instead, you would probably be eating ice cream in bed in pure jealousy rather than savouring the humiliation you had originally wished upon your date. 

Your date… Ah! Exciting! This ten grand had better be worth it. 

THE END.

Bonus: A few private messages! (I had no idea what I was doing)

Message #1

Message #2

Message #3 (Blurry schmurry. It's fine)

End notes: I would like to apologise for being naive. I thought it was cool that Chris and Hook were teaming, especially since I saw Chris Jericho's band in Feb (which was great btw) and I got overexcited at their collaboration. I scold myself everyday since he pushed Taz and took the belt.

[lavenders-bath]

oooh art would be lowkey freaky. i feel like he’s also a super munch. he’ll let you sit on his face for hours!!

cw: 18+ mdni, cunnilingus, ambiguous era, afab reader, slight brat!reader, teasing, like two spanks (+ one instance of ass play + very slight anal fingering)

Art devours you like no one else ever could, burying his tongue into your pussy for hours on end. If he could, he’d do it 24/7. He does it enough as it is away. As a wake up call, a way to say goodnight, in the shower, on your period, from behind while you’re cooking, in a pool chair, you get the gist. If you asked what he favorite sexual act to do with you was, there’s not a single doubt in your mind that it would be slurping up your pussy.

You’ve never sat on his face before though, too scared to break his neck after reading a story on your phone about that happening to someone else. It’d be a real mood killer to come down from you high to see your boyfriend dead to the world, literally. You didn’t talk about it again after the initial awkward discussion that ended with you dismissing it. But he just looks so hot in the early morning sun, a rare sleepy day in where you actually get to marvel at what Art looks like when he’s relaxed.

You bite your lip and shake him gently, trying not to shy away and curl up into a ball when he eventually groans and rubs his eyes open.

“Morning, baby.” He grunts in his husky morning voice.

He immediately puckers his lips for a kiss that you provide with less casual confidence than usual. His brow furrows, and he caresses the inside of your wrist with his thumb.

“What’s up? Are you hungry?” He asks you, thinking that you’re needing him to run and get you coffee or something.

You say no and play with your hands, the ache you’ve been feeling between your thighs only grows the more you look into his eyes.

“I just…. I need you.” You whisper.

Art squints his eyes, not sure what you mean. Then he recalls how he usually wakes you up in the morning, “Oh. You need me, huh?”

You nod and spread your legs, giving a view of your bare pussy. You took your underwear off earlier when the feeling got to be too much.

“Can you say it for me, angel? Tell me what you need and i’ll give it you.” He grins, teasing you. “If you woke me up, you must need whatever it is really bad.”

You roll your eyes and straddle him, sighing in bliss when he latches onto your hips. You’d put up more of a fight if you weren’t so horny, but you’ll let Art have his fun this time.

“I need you to eat me out.” You hold back the ‘obviously’ that you want to tack onto the end of your sentence.

Art’s grin widens and he makes you rock back and forth on his clothed bulge. He waist until you’re juices are wetting the fabric of his underwear before he pats your thigh, telling you to get off. You don’t budge and allow him to get into the typical position. Instead you lift your hips and shuffle up the bed until you’re hovering over his face.

“I want you to eat me out like this.”

Art’s grin falters as his eyes widen in shock for a second, you must really be pent up if you’re being this bold. He’s not complaining, he’d been waiting patiently for you to get comfortable enough to use him like a chair. You’re enough of a brat to change your mind if he acts too smug about getting what he wants even if you want it too though, so he tones it down.

“Get to it then, angel.” He smirks, his words trailing off into a satisfied sigh. “Give me a taste of this pretty pussy, don’t hold back.”

He flattens his tongue expectantly and leans his head back against the pillows.

Before you can even hesitate, Art snakes his arms under your legs and yanks your body down, making you drop your weight on him. You yelp but he doesn’t let you squirm away from his mouth. The sensation of his tongue lying still beneath you feels strange for a second, but a slap to your ass snaps you out of it enough to start moving your hips.

You shout and grab onto the headboard, getting yourself off on your boyfriend’s face. You play with one of your tits as you start to bounce on him, craving more of his tongue.

You reach down and tug on his hair, suddenly feeling too shy to make eye contact. He hasn’t looked away from you this entire time, and your cheeks warm in embarrassment at the thought of how messy you already look.

He winks at you, not moving at all and letting you take your fill. Well that’s not what you want anymore, so you tug his hair harder and beg.

“Please, baby, just tongue fuck me already. Don’t you want to? ‘m getting tired…” You whine, pouting down at him.

You stop your hips when you don’t get an answer. Art’s eyes crinkle in delight at your predicament, but he gives in to you. He always does, you just don’t like when he puts you on the spot and makes you wait like this. Secretly you kinda enjoy how he acts in bed, but you like putting up a fight way more.

Art curls his tongue around your clit and you throw your head back. He gives the throbbing bud a few customary sucks and then he jabs his tongue into your wet hole. You moan and grab onto his hair, bouncing on him in time with his tongue’s short thrusts. You roll your hips down against the slick appendage and cry out when it hits the right spot, grasping onto the headboard for dear life.

“Oh my god, feels so good! Wanted you in my pussy, need you there, sucking me dry-what the fuck, yes!” You squeal, firmly keeping his face nuzzled into your pussy and your thighs around his head.

His hands are playing with your ass while he eats you out. You’re mid bounce when you feel one of his thumbs prod at your ass hole, and the barest hint of having two of your wholes filled gets you moving faster on him. He spread your cheeks wider and kneads the flesh, jiggling them in his hands.

Art responds in kind and slides his tongue around whatever parts of your juicy pussy he can, scooping up your juices and guzzling them down as he stabs his tongue through your sopping folds.

You’d normally pull him back by his hair when you got close, not wanting to get him too dirty with your cum. But now you’re tightening your thighs over his ears and and stuffing his nose into your trimmed pubic hair, bouncing like your life depends on it.

Art spanks you again when your walls spasm around his tongue thirty seconds later. He gulps your orgasm down with love in his eyes and a heartbeat in his dick. He coos at your soft sniffles and massages your trembling thighs when you get up and collapse beside him.

“Thanks for breakfast, angel, I’d rate it 5 stars”. He laughs, half jokingly and half seriously.

“Whatever, perv.” You weakly smack him on the chest and groan, trying to keep your soul in your body. “Go get coffee… please.”

[lavenders-bath]

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[lavenders-bath]

Anthony Kiedis got pegged by Sofia Coppola...I love the world we live in

Relevant video:

Fun little skit featuring Sofia, Anthony, Debbie Harry, Kim Gordon, Thurston Moore, and a few drag queens.

[lavenders-bath]

Rhea Hair ✨

This hair was inspired by a suggestion I saw and thought it looked super cute so I decided to give it a try!! This hair would have NEVER been possible without other creator's work so thank you @sheabuttyr and @sleepingsims for their INCREDIBLE hairstyles!! 🙏

24 EA Swatches

All Lods

NOT Hat compatible

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[lavenders-bath]

🖤【333】Tongue-nail-group-A

category:   lip ring

contain： female+male

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[lavenders-bath]

🖤【333】H-APPY-Earrings.

category: earrings+ears

contain： female+male

Game screenshots using HQ+reshade

*Don’t upload it again *Don’t resell *compatible HQ *Reuploading to any forum or website is not permitted. *Repacking is not permitted. *It is forbidden to convert my CC to other games *禁二次上传和售卖与打包

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[lavenders-bath]

Hey, is it okay if you wrote a story where Elliot fucks the reader in a bathroom while rue and Jules are looking for them? Thank youu❤️❤️

be quiet for me - elliot

pairing: elliot x reader

words: 0,8k

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, slight oral (fem receiving), elliot being a horny mess

—☕️

“Shh baby, gotta be -fuck- quiet for me, m’kay?” Elliot said breathlessly into your ear. He was caging you in as your hands grabbed desperately at the corners of the bathroom wall.

You nodded eagerly, pressing your face into the crook of his neck in an attempt not to make any noise.

Elli couldn’t wait any longer. When you had arrived at Jules’ house for her little birthday get together, you just looked so goddamn fine. His hand was creeping higher and higher on your thigh as all of you were watching a movie and when everyone was distracted with dancing and drinking, he had pulled you aside smoothly.

You were so tight around him now, as he fucked into you over and over again. His thrusts were fast and messy, and you were sure you’d never experienced him this horny ever. He near-whined into your ear, absolutely feral and head over heels for you in this moment.

“Elliot! Fucks sake, y/n! Are you fucking or something? We need you for truth or dare!” Jules and Rue yelled in turns, the sound muffled by the white bathroom door. No one knew you and Elliot had a thing going but he was too horny to be sly tonight.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he moaned your name brokenly. It seemed he was the one that had to be kept quiet, so you placed your hand roughly over his mouth while pushing his head back so he’d look at you. His eyes were watery and pleading, and your hand over his mouth made his eyes roll back and his thrusts impossibly faster. You didn’t reply to the girls as they laughed somewhere downstairs.

Your other hand gripped the edge of the counter he had put you on. His absolute desperateness made you clench around him even tighter, coating his dick is wetness that might even seep onto the tile under you. A thin layer of sweat was glistening on his temple as his hands clawed at your waist, his hips never faulting. “Shit I can’t-“ you whispered, pushing your hips into his now to feel him deeper, faster.

He felt your muscles tighten and his hand flew messily to your wet, puffy clit and rubbed it quickly. Your hand grabbed his wrist and your thighs shook around his hips where his sweats were pushed down. “Fucking cum for me, please,” he ordered, before footsteps where heard outside the door and a loud banging. Horrible timing, because you felt yourself squeeze Elliot’s dick so fucking tight, felt a hot slickness coat him while your heart raced and soft lips were open in a silent moan. You came so fucking hard and Elliot was stunned.

He wanted to reply to Jules’ obnoxious, drunken banging but his hand splayed on the wall instead as he buried his head in your neck, biting down on the apex of your shoulder as he came.

“Two seconds. I- I spilled on my shirt,” you yelled out hastily, breathless and ragged.

“Sure. Just don’t get anything gross on my counter please!” She laughed. “I won’t tell though, I promise”

She smiled to herself before leaving you alone.

Simultaneously you and Elliot breathed out in relief.

“God I’m sick of hiding this,” he muttered from your neck. You pulled his head up by his curls to look at him. When you opened your mouth to ask him what he meant, he pushed his hips flush with yours again, his coarse hair grinding against your oversensitive clit. Your words stuttered over each other into incoherent moaning.

“Fuck I wanna walk back out holding your hand. Please?” He asked softly, breaths still quick and ragged. You felt your heart clench at his request and nodded wordlessly.

“Okay.” You smiled, gasping gently when he pulled out of you. You were about to jump from the counter when you heard the soft of Elliot’s knees hitting the floor.

“So fucking pretty,” he said, voice low and hoarse as his thumb swiped through your wet, slick folds. Your stomach clenched at his words and touch, and he leaned forward to take your clit into his mouth. He sucked carefully while looking up into your eyes, hands on your thighs. You moaned shamelessly this time, not able to look into his intense gaze as your eyes averted to the ceiling.

He gave you a few appreciative kitten licks before getting up and handing you some toilet paper to wiper yourself down. When you had thoroughly cleaned the sink, per Jules’ request, you walked out of the bathroom with Elliot’s warm hand in yours.

[lavenders-bath]

All good boys go to heaven - But bad boys bring heaven to you (the one after the All-Star) I William Nylander & Auston Matthews 🖋️⚡️

Alrighty, babes! So, based on the poll results and the fact that I've been considering this for some time, I've decided to go for this part 🙈

However, please bear in mind that if you're not keen on delving into anything involving 34 with his funny head shape, you're under no obligation to do so 😉 This side chapter will not impact the main storyline 🤍

And for those of you who secretly crave a 34 x 88 sandwich, I genuinely hope you enjoy this 🤍 💦 BTW this is pure smut!

Warnings; smut 18+, William Nylander x reader x Auston Matthews, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation, voyeurism, protected sex (p in v) missionary, doggy/spit roast, oral sex (m receiving), just a lot of Dom!Willy;

Word count; 3.1K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

“I'm not ashamed that he wasn't the one Had no idea what we would become There's no regrets I just thought it was fun”

The dimmed lights from the bedside lamps filled the room with golden hue, the shadows of your bodies outlining the act on the walls, as you and William were tangled up in your bedsheets. 

Still high on the thrills and excitement of the All-star game, you were passionately sharing kisses and deep moans, as your warm bodies were connected. 

It was almost unbelievable how much passion the room oozed as yours and William’s tongues danced with each other, while your hands left no skin untouched. Then slowly, William let his pink lips wander from yours, exploring more skin as he traced down your jawline and finding the sensitive spots on your neck. 

Lightly he nipped and bit down to mark his spot, before he let his mouth explore your collarbone, and continuing the journey down to your breasts. Each nipple getting the sensual attention it deserved, while his palm took care of the other. 

William’s touch had you enchanted, completely under his spell, as his lips travelled further south, eventually reaching your needy core, eager to be touched. As you felt your walls pulsating in mere anticipation, you let out a small breath and gently let your fingers trace through William’s blonde locks. 

“Please Willy,” you whimpered softly, and soon you were granted his skilful mouth. 

Moans were unable to be restrained from your lips, as William indulged in your sweet honey, using his tongue to offer pleasure to your bud of nerves, coupled with how he let it explore every part of your sensitive flesh. 

His arms held a firm grip onto your thighs, making sure you didn’t move your hips against him, yet it was hard not to try. 

Feeling your orgasm slowly take form, you let out louder sensual noises, making sure William understood how good he was making you feel. Which only encouraged him to dive in further, enjoying every drop of your aroused juices, as he let himself get completely pussy drunk by you. 

It was hot, to say the least, as you felt the thrilling rush of pleasure course through every vein, blurring your mind, as you closed your eyes and let yourself sink into William’s magical touch. Your hand gripped firmly onto the sheets, emphasising you nearing the peak of a climax, while the other took a hold of William’s hair. 

“Oh yes,” you let out under your breaths, your chest heavily rising and lowering with very desperate need for air. And with the love of your life skilfully pleasuring you with his talented mouth, you surrendered to the high, letting your mind go completely hazy and your body numb from pleasure. 

It was a feeling no words could describe. The way your boyfriend could so easily have to under his power, and make you feel so incredible, had your mind go crazy. He didn’t even have to do much, except for letting his sweet lips touch and lick you at your sensitive spot. 

Then as he withdrew from your, his eyes darkly looking up to meet yours in a lustful and intense meet, he slowly came to hover you and let you taste yourself on his lips. It was sweet, yet slightly salty taste, but you enjoyed how you shared this intimacy. 

And with a final kiss, William slowly leaned back, looking you deeply in the eyes as he studied your beautiful features. 

“So skön,” he whispered softly, your eyes connected in the depth of the ocean his blue colour provided. “And you’re sure you want to do this?” 

His whisper was almost rough, yet it held a deep tone of sincere desire. 

And as you nodded gently, both of you turned your heads to face the man sitting in the chair next to bed. His hand firmly resting in is lap, as his member had grown fully hard by watching how William had provided you pleasure to reach an orgasm. 

“He’ll only get to do as I instruct,” William spoke firmly, as his eyes again met yours. “If he does anything, that you don’t want to, say it.” 

It was the ultimate game of power William had as Auston had joined the two of you for a night in the bedroom. Only this once, would your boyfriend let another man set his hands on you, touch you and please you, solely under his instructions. 

And you had to admit it was indeed fascinating. To see how your William would dominate not only you but also his teammate, all while you were brought to pleasure. 

Gently William rolled away from you, yet not too far, just to rest by your side on the bed while he silently invited Auston to join the two of you on the bed. 

You couldn’t help but glance at the Arizona man who approached you, studying his naked and toned physique, in the soft glow. His face spoke nothing but lust and anticipation, and with William’s permission Auston came to kneel on the bed. And for an intense moment of silent male dominance, William’s eyes were settled on his teammate as he vocalised his rules. 

“Condom, Aus?” his deep voice secured the safety, and Auston merely nodded, his eyes fixated on you. “And no kissing on the lips,” William added, his tone still steady and rough. And again, Auston nodded, showing he understood the clear instructions set by the Swede. 

Then with William again offering his permission, Auston lined his throbbing member with your tight entrance, ready to be filled as William had already made sure you were beyond aroused. Leaning over you, Auston connected his lips with the sweet spots on your neck, where William had just marked you up, as he slowly pressed his member into your core, stretching your walls. Your hand swiftly found his dark hair, while the other sought the back of his shoulder to hold on to. 

It felt different from William. Everything from Auston’s lips to his hard cock was different, yet you couldn’t deny it brought you pleasure. His cock did make you feel good, though it was thick it wasn’t as long as William’s. Nor did it have the slight curve that always made sure to hit your sensitive spot just right. 

And as Auston gently rocked his hips, letting his length stimulate your inside and hit your sensitive spots, you felt the pleasure once more building up within you. Moans were slipping of your tongue, your breaths slowly growing incoherent, as the teammate increased the intensity of his thrust. 

You almost couldn’t keep your eyes open, yet you forced yourself to keep your eyes locked with your boyfriend’s, feeling the need to have him intimate with you and Auston. 

William’s eyes stared intensely as you while you were being fucked by his teammate, his hand gently stroking his hard member. This was very much better than porn. Here he could watch the girl he loved in nothing but pleasure, all while he could control the scene as he liked. 

“Does he make you feel good baby?” William inquired huskily under his breaths, feeling his own climax slowly forming with every stroke, your moans sounding like sweet music to his ears. 

“Yes,” you managed to speak lightly in between moans of pleasure, as you felt the orgasm about to come closer. 

“Good, baby.”

It was important for William that you felt nothing but good. It was a boundary that had been crossed for all of you, but given Auston’s desire to touch you, William had given it to give. With the condition that he made sure to make you come first. 

And feeling how good you felt around his length, Auston was coming closer to the edge sooner than he’d expected. 

Your cunt was like a paradise for his member. The tightness of your walls hugged him so gracefully, providing him warmth and comfort, enough to get him close to the brim. 

“Fuck Willy, she feels so good,” Auston let out deep breath, as he felt his cock twitching. 

But the instructions were clear. He had to make you come first. 

But as he too felt his own climax slowly approaching, Auston increased the force of his thrusts, trying to send you closer to your peak. 

“Mmm, yes,” you moaned, signalling that you were feeling the rush gradually come closer, yet you just couldn’t quite reach it. 

Sending your distress, your boyfriend had an idea on how to handle it.

“How bout you ride Auston a little?” He suggested with a low seductive voice, to which you nodded. 

Gently Auston then withdrew himself from you, feeling a small sense of relief that he could have some time to manage his arousal and make sure you’d reach your peak before he did. 

Moving around the mattress he rested in his back and you fluently came to straddle him, slowly and seductively sinking yourself on his member. 

Auston tried his best to control himself, letting you take charge, his hands resting in your things as you began slowly rocking your hips, letting his length stimulate shout walls.

“Does that feel good älskling?” William inquired a she studied how you pleased yourself using his teammate. 

“Yeah, he feels good…” you breathed out in between moans. Supporting your hands on his muscular chest, you increased you speed a little, letting the air be filled with sexual harmonies. 

Yet William knew you needed more to reach your much needed orgasm, so carefully, he moved to straddle Auston’s legs behind you, pressing his torso against your back, and began placing kisses on your neck. You feel his hard cock hard and proud against your lower back, as his arms embraced you gently, one palm finding your breast, while the other slowly traced down your belly and let itself settle on your craving core. 

“Tell me what you want,” William roughly spoke, as he bit down your neck, while his eyes locked with his teammate underneath you, though you all knew he was talking to you. 

“I want you to touch me…” you whimpered softly, aching for his fingers to move closer to your pea of nerves, as you enjoyed Auston’s cock inside you. 

“That’s all?”

“Mmm, make me cum, Willy…” Though it was worded as a command, it was spoken as a plea. 

And William was more than happy to obliged. Still remaining his eyes on Auston who was showing nothing much pleasure by your amazing cunt wrapped around him, William slowly began curling your clit, stimulating the 8.000 nerves connecting that send your mind, body and soul closer to the edge.

You felt yourself squirming under his touch, your breaths out of sync and your hips moving faster, eager and determined to make it to the finish line. And with Auston’s cock inside you, massaging your walls and hitting your deep spot, coupled with William’s fingers you were just about to reach it.

“That’s it baby,” William whispered sensually in your ear, yet loud enough for Auston to hear it. “Come for us, show Auston what a good girl you are.” 

And with his magical voice, William send you into the high, letting your arch your back against him, as you closed your eyes, lean your head on his shoulder and moaned out in mere pleasure. 

It wasn’t the most intense orgasm you’d reached, yet it was still amazing and wonderful, causing your mind to go hazy and your vision to blur. 

William then gently withdrew his hand, allowing you to calm from the ecstasy and refill your lungs with air. 

It was so hot. Not just the warm, steamy air in your bedroom, but also the feeling of being in between two large hockey bodies. Never would you have imagined such a scenario, not even believing William would have agreed to it. Yet here you were. 

And equally in disbelief Auston was amazed by your body. Naturally he’d imagined you naked a few times, but he’d been sure it would only ever extend to a fantasy. However with William’s permission he was now buried inside you, feeling himself getting closer to a climax as you clenched around his throbbing member. 

“Seems like he’s been making you feel good baby, should we let him come as well?” William then asked, his eyes still focused on Auston as he was suggesting to grant him the relief he was craving. 

Turning your head a little to find William’s features in the corner of your eye in the dimmed light, you nodded. “Yes, let him come - but I also want to taste you.” 

And your wishes were their commands. With a light smirk on his face, William then moved from his position, gently guiding you off Auston while you all again repositioned. 

“On your hands and knees,” William instructed darkly, and naturally you did as he said. 

Then with Auston kneeling behind you, you felt his cock once more slowly enter your core, yet this time his thick member hit you just right, causing louder moans to escape you.

“Fuck,” Auston moaned deeply as he felt your walls again hugging tightly. “You feel so amazing baby girl.” 

It wasn’t intentionally Auston let the nick name slip, but with the way you felt around him as he began to slowly thrust in you again, his mind was going wild. He knew he wouldn’t last long in the position, yet he intended to enjoy every single second of it. 

Meanwhile, William knelt in front of you, his hard cock just in high and angle with your mouth. As he softly stroked his fingers through your hair, he intensely met your gaze, his lips parting a little as you slowly wrapped your moist lips around his cock. 

“Mmm, fuck yes…” he cursed under his breath, feeling the heat form your warmth embrace him as you covered his length with saliva and took him further down your throat like he knew you could. He couldn’t help but gulp as he looked at how gorgeous you were before him, looking up through your lashes as he gently rocked his hips against your mouth. You’d become so skilled with your mouth, and William had to restrain himself from not choking you out of mere pleasure.

You knew you did him well, though it wasn’t easy with Auston pounding into you from behind, his motions slowly increasing in force and speed, as you sensed he was getting closer to his peak. His firm grip on your hips spoke his signals loud and clear, and as you too could feel another pending orgasm approach, you knew it could bring you both to the brim. 

The softened glow of the bedside lamps cast a golden hue throughout the room, with the silhouettes of your bodies etched upon the walls as you and William were entwined in the bedsheets.

Still buzzing with the excitement of the All-star game, you both fervently exchanged kisses and deep moans, your warm bodies intimately connected.

The intensity of passion in the room was almost surreal as your tongues danced together, and your hands explored every inch of each other's skin. Gradually, William allowed his lips to wander from yours, tracing down your jawline to discover the sensitive spots on your neck.

Gently nipping and biting to leave his mark, he then explored your collarbone before continuing his journey down to your breasts. Each nipple received the tender attention it deserved, while his hand attended to the other.

Enchanted by William's touch, you found yourself completely under his spell as his lips moved further south, eventually reaching your eager core, craving his touch. Feeling your anticipation build, you released a soft breath and delicately ran your fingers through William's blonde locks.

"Please, Willy," you whispered softly, and soon you were met with his skilled mouth.

Moans escaped your lips uncontrollably as William savoured your sweet honey, using his tongue to lavish pleasure upon your sensitive nerves, exploring every inch of your delicate flesh.

With a firm grip on your thighs, he prevented you from moving your hips, though the urge was undeniable.

As your orgasm built, you emitted louder, more sensual sounds, ensuring William knew just how exquisite he was making you feel. And his eagerness only spurred him on, relishing every drop of your arousal as he allowed himself to become utterly intoxicated by your essence.

The intensity was staggering as waves of pleasure surged through your veins, clouding your mind. And with eyes closed, you surrendered to William's enchanting touch, one hand gripping the sheets tightly as you approached the peak of ecstasy, while the other grasped his hair.

"Oh, yes," you murmured breathlessly, your chest rising and falling rapidly, desperate for air. With the love of your life skilfully pleasuring you with his adept mouth, you succumbed to the euphoria, letting your mind drift into a blissful haze as your body tingled with pleasure.

It was an indescribable sensation. The way your boyfriend effortlessly wielded power over you, leaving you feeling utterly incredible, sent your mind into a frenzy. He hardly had to do much, merely letting his tender lips touch and tease your most sensitive spot.

Then as he withdrew from you, his eyes darkly locking onto yours with a lustful intensity, he slowly positioned himself above you, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. The taste was sweet yet slightly salty, but you relished in the intimacy of the moment.

With a final kiss, William leaned back, gazing deeply into your eyes as he admired your beautiful features.

"So skön," he whispered softly, his eyes capturing yours with the depth of the ocean. "And are you sure you want to do this?"

His whisper held a hint of roughness, yet it carried a sincere desire.

And as you nodded gently, both of you turned your heads to face the man sitting in the chair next to the bed. His hand rested firmly in his lap; his member fully hard from witnessing William bring you to orgasmic pleasure.

"He'll only do as I tell," William stated firmly, his gaze once again meeting yours. "If there's anything you don't want, speak up."

It was the ultimate display of power as Auston joined you and William for a night in the bedroom. This was a rare occasion where your boyfriend allowed another man to touch and please you, but strictly under his guidance.

Admittedly, it was a fascinating dynamic to witness. Watching William assert his dominance not only over you but also over his teammate, all while ensuring your pleasure.

William gently rolled away from you, not too far, just enough to lie beside you on the bed as he silently beckoned Auston to join you both.

You couldn't help but steal glances at the Arizona man as he approached, observing his naked, toned physique illuminated by the soft glow of the room. His expression betrayed nothing but desire and anticipation, and with William's approval, Auston knelt on the bed. In a moment of intense silent dominance, William's gaze remained fixed on his teammate as he outlined the rules.

"Got a condom, Aus?" his deep voice ensured safety, and Auston simply nodded, his eyes locked on you. "And no kissing on the lips," William added, his tone still firm and unwavering. Once again, Auston nodded, acknowledging the clear instructions laid out by the Swede.

Then with William's approval once more granted, Auston positioned his pulsating member at your tight entrance, primed to enter as William had already ensured you were thoroughly wet. Leaning over you, Auston's lips found the sweet spots on your neck where William had just left his marks, as he gradually eased his member into your core, stretching your walls. Your hand instinctively found its way into his dark hair, while the other gripped the back of his shoulder for support.

It was a different sensation from William. Everything from Auston's lips to his firm cock felt distinct, yet undeniably pleasurable. Though not as lengthy as William's, Auston's girth brought its own form of satisfaction. And yet, without the slight curve that always ensured William hit your sensitive spot just right, Auston's thrusts still managed to stimulate you deeply.

And while Auston gently rocked his hips, his length stimulating your innermost desires and targeting your most sensitive areas, the pleasure once again surged within you. Moans slipped from your lips, your breaths growing increasingly erratic as he intensified his thrusts.

You struggled to keep your eyes open, but you forced yourself to maintain eye contact with your boyfriend, craving the intimacy shared between the three of you.

William's eyes bore into you with intense focus as his teammate pleasured you, his own hand gently stroking his hardened member. This experience surpassed any pornography; here, he could witness the woman he loved immersed in pure pleasure, all while maintaining control over the scene as he desired.

"Does he make you feel good?" William huskily inquired, his own climax slowly building with each stroke, your moans serving as sweet melodies to his ears.

"Yes," you managed to utter amidst the waves of pleasure, feeling the orgasm drawing near.

"Good, baby."

Ensuring your pleasure was paramount to William. Although boundaries had been pushed for all involved, given Auston's desire to engage with you, William had consented under the condition that he prioritised your satisfaction first.

And feeling the exquisite sensation of your warmth surrounding him, Auston found himself nearing the edge sooner than expected.

Your cunt enveloped his member like a paradise. The gentle embrace of your walls provided him with both warmth and ecstasy, bringing him closer to climax with each passing moment.

"Fuck, Willy, she feels incredible," Auston exclaimed, his breaths deepening as he felt his member pulsating with anticipation.

But the instructions were crystal clear: he had to ensure you reached climax first.

And sensing his own climax drawing near, Auston intensified the force of his thrusts, aiming to push you closer to your peak.

"Mmm, yes," you moaned, indicating that you were on the brink of ecstasy, yet just unable to quite reach it. Recognising your frustration, your boyfriend devised a solution.

"How about you ride Auston for a bit?" he suggested in a seductive whisper, to which you eagerly nodded.

Almost with a sense of relief, Auston withdrew from you, taking a moment to regain control of his arousal, ensuring you’d come before he’d reach his own.

Shifting positions on the mattress, he then lay back as you smoothly straddled him, slowly sinking down onto his member with seductive grace.

Auston concentrated on maintaining restraint, allowing you to take charge as his hands rested on your thighs while you began to rhythmically rock your hips, allowing his length to stimulate your walls.

"Does that feel good, älskling?" William inquired as he observed you pleasing yourself with his teammate.

"Yeah, he feels good..." you breathed out between moans, your hands finding purchase on Auston’s muscular chest as you increased your pace, filling the air with the symphony of your shared moans.

Yet, sensing your need for more to reach climax, William carefully shifted to straddle Auston's legs behind you, pressing his torso against your back and peppering kisses along your neck. You could feel his proud, hardened member against your lower back, his arms enveloping you tenderly, one hand finding your breast while the other trailed down your belly, settling on your eager core.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded roughly, nipping at your neck as his gaze locked with his teammate’s beneath you, though it was clear he was addressing you.

"I want you to touch me..." you whimpered softly, longing for his fingers to draw nearer to your sensitive nerves, even as you relished Auston's cock inside you.

"Is that all?" William pressed; his tone suggestive.

"Mmm, make me cum, Willy..." Though it was stated as a command, it carried the weight of a plea.

And William was more than willing to comply. Keeping his eyes fixed on Auston, who displayed evident pleasure at the sensation of your incredible warmth around him, William slowly began to caress your clit, stimulating the 8,000 nerves that connected and propelled your mind, body, and soul ever closer to the edge.

You found yourself squirming under his touch, your breaths erratic and your hips moving faster, driven by a fervent determination to reach the peak. With Auston's member inside you, tantalising your walls and targeting your deepest spots, coupled with William's skilled fingers, you were on the verge of reaching the pinnacle of ecstasy.

"That's it, baby," William whispered sensually in your ear, his voice carrying enough volume for Auston to hear. "Come for us, show Auston what a good girl you are."

And with his enchanting words, William pushed you into over the edge, causing you to arch your back against him, closing your eyes and resting your head on his shoulder as you moaned in pure pleasure.

While it may not have been the most intense orgasm you'd ever experienced, it was still extraordinary and delightful, leaving your mind foggy and blurred.

William then gently withdrew his hand, allowing you to gradually return from the euphoria and fill your lungs with air.

The atmosphere was electric, not just due to the warm, steamy air in the bedroom, but also the sensation of being surrounded by two formidable hockey players. Never would you have imagined such a scenario, nor would you have believed William would agree to it. Yet here you were.

And equally astonished, Auston found himself marvelling at your body. While he had undoubtedly fantasised about you naked before, he had always considered it nothing more than a fantasy. However, with William's permission, he was now intimately connected with you, feeling himself drawing closer to climax as you clenched around his throbbing member.

"Seems like he's been treating you well, baby. Should we allow him to come as well?" William inquired, his gaze still fixed on Auston as he proposed granting him the relief he sought.

Turning your head slightly to catch sight of William's features in the dim light, you nodded. "Yes, let him come - but I also want to taste you."

And your wishes were their commands. With a faint smirk playing on his lips, William shifted from his position, gently guiding you off Auston as you all repositioned.

"On your hands and knees," William instructed with a dark tone, and obediently, you complied.

With Auston kneeling behind you, you felt his member once again slowly entering your core. This time, however, his thick member hit all the right spots, eliciting louder moans from you.

"Fuck," Auston groaned deeply as he felt your walls embracing him tightly once more. "You feel incredible, baby girl."

Unintentionally, Auston let the nickname slip, but the sensation of being enveloped by you as he began to thrust slowly drove his mind wild. He knew he wouldn't last long in this position, but he was determined to savour every single moment of it.

Meanwhile, William knelt before you, his hardened member positioned just inches from your mouth. As he tenderly ran his fingers through your hair, his gaze locked intensely with yours, his lips parting slightly as you slowly enveloped his cock with your moist lips.

"Mmm, fuck yes..." he muttered under his breath, feeling the warmth of your mouth taking him in as you coated his length with saliva and took him deeper down your throat with practiced ease. He couldn't help but gasp as he admired your beauty before him, gazing up at him through your lashes as he gently rocked his hips against your mouth. You had become incredibly skilled with your oral technique, and William had to exert self-control to prevent himself from choking you, succumbing entirely to the overwhelming pleasure.

You knew you were pleasuring him well, despite the challenge of Auston's powerful thrusts from behind. 

Signalling his approach to climax, Auston’s movements gradually intensified in force and speed. His firm grip on your hips conveyed his intentions clearly, and as you felt another orgasm building within you, you sensed that it could push both of you over the edge.

Then observing a small tear trickling from the corner of your eye amidst the sounds of your sweet gagging noises, William understood that you were on the brink of climax again. And so gently, he withdrew his member, allowing you to gasp for air as you were unable to suppress the moans elicited by Auston's fervent thrusts.

"Is Tony making you come, baby?" William inquired seductively, softly caressing your cheek and lower lip as you looked up at him.

"Yes..." you whimpered, feeling your needy core clenching and pulsating, dripping with juices as Auston intensified his thrusts.

"Oh, fuck yes," you heard him breathe out behind you, eager to release himself. Yet, he also desired to prove that he could bring you pleasure, driving his shaft deeper and harder into you while steadying himself with his hands. "Come for me, my baby girl... yes..."

"Oh yes, Aus... I'm coming," you moaned almost embarrassingly loudly, closing your eyes once more as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations.

And with you clenching firmly around his cock, it only took a few more thrusts before Auston let out a deep grunt, emptying himself into the condom.

Secretly, he wished he could have released directly inside you, but he obediently followed William's clear instructions in order to experience the pleasure of being with you. He was just more than satisfied that he had agreed to the terms. And as he calmed from his climax, Auston couldn't help but appreciate the sight before him: your exposed ass with his cock still buried inside you.

But then, slowly regaining control of your breath and body, your attention shifted to the man before you. Still riding the high of raw passion, you yearned to reciprocate the pleasure your boyfriend, and now Auston, had bestowed upon you.

"Willy... let me make you come," you whimpered, and naturally, he couldn't resist your seductive offer.

"Do you want Auston to watch?" he inquired.

"Yes..."

Although Auston preferred to be directly involved in the act, he couldn't deny the incredible allure of watching you on your knees before William.

The ease with which you took him into your throat, working his shaft with your hand while emitting the sexiest gagging sounds, ignited a fire within him that he hadn't known existed.

Seated once again in the chair, Auston found himself frustrated yet enthralled as he observed his Swedish teammate close his eyes, tilt his head back, and surrender to the waves of pleasure coursing through his body.

In this position, William allowed you to have ultimate control. The way you willingly took him in, allowing yourself to choke on his cock, drooling and gagging, was something he would gladly surrender to any time.

Your beautiful eyes shimmered as you tried to watch him through your lashes, savouring every sound elicited by your actions.

"Shit, baby, I'm gonna come..."

And it was only a matter of seconds before William released his cum down your throat, accompanied by deep moans and grunts.

You relished in every drop he offered, the mix of sweet and salty stickiness coating your tongue as you swallowed with grace. And while taking your time to suck William empty and clean, you offered Auston a quick glance. Then releasing his member from your mouth, you flashed William a satisfied smirk, pleased with how you had pleased your man while showcasing to his teammate just how skilled you could be.

The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming for all three of you.

Auston had fulfilled his deepest desires by being close to you, you had reached three orgasms through the touch of two men, and William had asserted his ultimate dominance. Yet, there was something he couldn't let go entirely.

As he stroked your lower lip after you swallowed his load, he offered you a content smirk. "Du är min prinsessa..." And then, glancing over at Auston, he adopted a more serious tone. "Don't ever call her your baby girl again."

Auston simply nodded immediately, understanding that you belonged to William, and it had been a privilege for him to have touched you.

And after Auston had left the condo, you swiftly snuggled up in your boyfriend's arms. Despite the excitement and heat of having Auston join you in bed, you knew that William's embrace was where you truly belonged.

"Was it good, baby?" he asked softly, his gaze gentle as he studied your face.

"Absolutely, Willy," you replied with a content smile, getting lost in the depths of his blue eyes. "Auston was amazing."

"Good, otherwise I'd have to punch him," he chuckled lightly.

"No need, babe, he did so well."

As exhaustion washed over you, you felt your body relaxing and your mind drifting off. And a smile lingered on your lips as you welcomed the embrace of sleep.

**

Suddenly, you gasped sharply and jolted awake. Your body felt hot and covered in pearls of sweat, your core tingling and pulsating with arousal. Sitting up straight, you briefly glanced at your sleeping boyfriend, attempting to control your heavy breathing and shake off the lingering effects of the very real and very intense dream of Auston Matthews.

[lavenders-bath]

Momo's Hairstyle Sets

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[lavenders-bath]

A Dare’s a Dare

Elliot x Reader

Warnings: Smutty smut smutt & also a try at some plot…pray he never sees this

a/n: whew…hey guys. long time no SEE! it’s been a hot minute & i’m so sorry about that. please accept this gift as an apology…i didn’t even mean to make this so long, & i definitely still need to make corrections, but alas, here we are. please enjoy & maybe leave a comment? i love reading your guys reactions/thoughts! :)

a/a/n: wait, also, can we talk about cochella? because i was SAT! mama’s boy is already my favoritee.

¥

One of the lightbulbs in the bathroom flicker as you lean down to sniff a line of coke off the porcelain sink. Then it blows out. You told Elliot weeks ago that it needed to be replaced, but as usual, his “I’ll get to it.” gets lost in all the other bullshit he spews. 

Throwing your head back, you scrunch your nose and sniff. Not yet used to the burn.

Unrolling the five-dollar bill, you shake it out and shove it in your pocket. He left it in the bathroom for you anyway. You do a quick sweep around to make sure there’s nothing that can show what’s been going on in there, swipe the powder off your tight long sleeve, and walk out. 

The music that was once muffled behind the door is now clear as you sway to the beat on your way back into Elliot’s room, Jules and Rue sitting on his bed with a joint between Rue’s lips. 

“Ooo, that the vanilla backwood–” You start, then stop when warm hands grab your face, and your lips are pressed against another pair. It happens so fast that you barely have time to process it before the warm body moves away. You stumble and look up. 

Elliot. 

Keep reading

[lavenders-bath]

[lavenders-bath]

Lines right now <3

[lavenders-bath]

I would never condone watching F1 for free without subscribing to those expensive, corporate streaming sites that make millions from advertising other corporations.

And I would never condone clicking on this link to watch F1 pre-season testing and all the free practices, qualifying and races.

Don’t click on this link.

JOKES! Fuck that, free for all is what I say. No one should miss out on F1 because it’s expensive to watch.

Just to be clear…this is the link I am talking about. It streams F1 for free. FREE!

[lavenders-bath]

he set my house on fire, you lit my heart ablaze; when the smoke cleared, you stayed, coughing up ash with me.

jh86 x reader: the revenge plot doesn't go as planned (ft. ex-fiance am34).

(warnings: blasphemous filth (it's on the tamer side, i think), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), spit and descriptions of bodies and stuff like that, hair pulling (big fan), lots of talk about toxic relationships and being mean and using people and sad moments (we can thank this fictional am34 for that), oh, and slight bullying of tz11). idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: hello, favorites. thank you so, so much for your patience and softness. today i bring you a story that took me so, so long because i worked so, so hard on it (and it's really long! 14k worth). we have checked all the boxes: terrible ex-fiance am34, sweet boy jh86, schemes and plots and the like. no, i don't think any of these characters are like this in real life. no, nobody acts like this, but it's getting colder, so i think a lot of us are craving that gentle domesticity. and yes, i wish someone had shown up with flowers after i finished undergrad midterms. there's probably a ton of plot holes but shh! don't tell anyone. also tried out a new format, the smut is in the middle instead of the end, let me know how you feel about that. anyways, i miss you and i love you and i think of you often and fondly. i hope you and your snakes are doing well and knowing what you deserve and accepting nothing less. let me know what you think, what you want next, etc. go canucks, of course. oh, and no, i do not think it's a coincidence that all the guys i write about are having a great season so far (except the ducks that refuse to play). how could it be? definitely a causal connection. all my love to you. until next time).

since you were a young girl, you had known that your greatest motivation, your deepest truth, perhaps your fatal flaw, was just how deeply you felt.

when you were little, that meant tears came easily, anger festered like weeds in a prized garden, and happiness felt like flying.

it also meant you could read others' emotions almost as clearly as your own.

it made you different, it made you a good friend, it made you the person you were. for much of your life, you had made peace with the fact that your well of emotions went deeper than others. you had loved that part of yourself, even.

but the night you broke off your engagement to auston matthews, you wanted nothing more than for everything you were feeling to disappear, to evaporate into the air as if it had never been.

"you couldn't've at least tried to hide it from me?" you had said, willing your fragile voice not to break.

and he had sat at the kitchen counter, that massive body on the stool that you had carefully selected for the house that you shared, that you thought you would share forever. and he had sighed, sounded almost annoyed. "would that have made it better, angel?"

his indifference coated your bones like lead paint. that name, once one you felt would call you out of a coma, would lead you out of hell like a northern star, now felt like nothing but a condescending, patronizing taunt. silly, stupid angel, the god might as well have said, how could you think you could ever be enough?

understanding settled like ash on your eyelashes. "you think i'll forgive you," you said, little more than a whisper. "you think i won't leave."

he scoffed at that, then. at you. "and go where?" he asked, sounding almost genuine. "where do you have to go?"

how superficially he knew you, it seemed, at that moment. how had you not seen this before?

"you honestly think i could ever look at you the same?" you asked.

he shrugged, his shoulders so imposing, stature so suddenly frightening. a body you knew better than your own, suddenly foreign. a ghost. "maybe differently, but still looking," he said, "your eyes have only ever followed me, angel."

and maybe he was right, but you were done proving him so.

"send my things to my parents' place," you said, cold, devoid of anything. emotion welled up in you like a flood, but you froze it before it could crest through your mouth, come out like some mythical fire-breathing dragon. you slipped off your ring, placed it on the counter.

you didn't feel lighter without it, though. you felt so devastatingly heavy, like cinder blocks were tied to your ankles, like liquid stone filled your head.

"are you kidding?" he asked. to your silence, careful pause, he tilted his head, shook it once. "you're just gonna quit?"

your hands were shaking. you could feel rage rattle through your body, shake your bones. you clenched your fist so tightly you wondered if blood would drip from your palms, stain the light hardwood floor that you had spent so long deciding on. "how dare you," you said, begging your quivering lip to still.

his smirk was cruel. "not like it matters," he mused. "you've never been able to quit me."

you had seen him mean. on the ice, sometimes to journalists, sometimes to fans, sometimes to you, even. but this was past mean. this was past elementary bullying, past joking insults that don't land. he was trying to call your bluff, trying to push you into forgiveness, trying to hurt you.

"watch me," you said, your voice made of ancient rock.

"are you mad because she's hotter than you?" he asked, his brow contorted in false concern. "is that it?"

despite yourself, a small smile pulled at your mouth. a smile that made your eyes glitter. a smile that should have scared him. a warning.

"she is beautiful," you conceded, because she was. what good would it do you to deny that? you approached him, then, in his personal space for what you believed would be the last time. he turned to you, your eyes meeting in a clash, like sword on sword. cruel, brutal arrogance and pure, pretty wrath. you held the side of his face in one palm, the other hand resting on his shoulder. "but when a beautiful person hits on me, auston, i say no."

his eyes flickered down to your mouth, simmering with lust. you laughed at this, at him, raw and true, let pity soak your tone like acid. "i'm not mad at her, auston," you admitted truthfully. "i'm not even mad at you." you patted his cheek, perhaps a little harder than you needed to. "i'm just so disappointed."

that had been weeks ago. you had moved back to the states, so embarrassed on the plane at how you couldn't stop the tears from flowing, until finally you were back with your parents in new jersey. they had welcomed you so warmly, so easily. it had taken a few weeks for the tears to finally slow, for the utter devastation to fade, for your red eyes to brighten again.

at first, it had been hard to remember anything but how his embrace felt like home, how tightly he hugged you after games, how his eyes shone when he laughed, how he had teared up when you had accepted his proposal, how he had gushed about picking the right ring.

but as the sadness faded, as it festered into something much more serious, you remembered less of the fairytale moments, less of his perfect smile, less of the "pretty girl" utterances in his rough bedroom rasp. soon the sadness gave way to steely rage, to an almost bloodthirsty need for revenge. for him to hurt the way he had hurt you.

and no one does bloodthirsty like a group of university-age girls. after catching up with your childhood friends, and getting them caught up on your situation, you looked at your confidants with eager eyes. "what do i do?"

your best friend from high school spoke first, banging her fist on the table. "burn his house down?" she offered. "steal his dog?"

her friend from college put a gentle hand over her fist, "i think for now we try to avoid the federal crimes," she said, then turned to you. "when my ex cheated on me, i got with the lead singer of his favorite band." her eyes shimmered. "and then bought his dream car and wrapped it pink."

you giggled in delight. "oh, you're good."

your childhood friend nodded. "phycological warfare." she looked at you. "who's his idol?"

you thought for a moment, tapped your fingers on the table. "i don't know if idol is what i should be going for," you thought out loud.

"who's someone who would make him uncomfortable? insecure?"

"his dad!" your friend said, making you shake in a laugh.

"his biggest insecurity is the spotlight leaving and not coming back," you told them. you had known that for a long time.

"being forgotten?" your friend asked.

"being replaced," you said, your eyes widening with understanding. "with someone better. more promising." you shared a look with your friends, felt anger solidify into a plan. into hope.

"you look like you have someone in mind."

a memory flashed across your mind like a shooting star, engulfed in flame.

"how was the game, aus?" you had asked when he got home, stirring the pot of soup on the stove.

you heard some kind of grumble as he dropped his things in the mudroom, made his way into the kitchen.

"what's wrong?" you asked when you met his eyes, sensing something wrong like smoke in the air.

"just this young kid," he muttered. "'s nothing, really."

and you knew then that it wasn't just nothing, because he never tried to hide things from you, to diminish his feelings, unless it was really bothering him.

you turned the stove off, approached him, wrapped your arms around his middle and hugged him tight. "who's this new kid?" you asked, muffled by his chest.

his arms pulled your closer, tighter. this had always been where you felt warmest, safest. "some h name," he muttered. "hicks? hughes, maybe?"

you smiled into his chest, knowing him, and knowing he would never have forgotten the name of this kid. knowing auston matthews never forgets people who make him feel like anything other than the world's brightest star.

"whoever he is, probably just had the game of his life," you had said, your voice a comforting lullaby. you had pressed yourself up on your tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "nothing to worry about, yeah?"

he had smiled back at you, but something dark had swirled behind his gaze. something like knowing, like ominous understanding, like an empire, falling. "already forgotten, angel," he had said, but you knew, even then, that he was lying.

the memory fizzed and dissolved like baking soda in vinegar.

you looked at your friends and smiled. "what do you guys know about jack hughes?"

from there it was surprisingly easy to shift from a tangent line outside jack hughes's circle to someone inside of it. you were patient, too, careful not to rush. you wouldn't settle for anything less than perfect, after all, refused to enact any plan that wouldn't end in exactly the revenge you sought.

one of the other wags from toronto, whom you had grown close to, insisted on helping, giving you the numbers of some friends close to the devils.

"i'm honestly so, so proud of you for leaving," she had told you over the phone, her voice nothing but genuine, knowing. "all of us, we all knew you were way too good for him."

"did you?" you asked, maybe a little shocked. having been so completely deceived, so absolutely blind, for so long, it was interesting that others had not been as deluded as you. to hear their perspective, to see what you had not been able to before.

"sweetheart," she said, gently, "everyone who meets you can see that you're good. that you deserve someone good." there was a pause. "and everyone also sees that he was never that."

you let her words settle like glitter on a childhood craft. "thank you," you said. "i miss you."

"we miss you so much. see you soon?"

you agreed, thanked her for her help.

"i hope he's good," were her closing words. "maybe better, at least."

having started classes with your old friends, intent on finishing the degree you had so quickly and thoughtless abandoned for auston, you had ample time to plot.

"feels like we're in a spy movie, or something," your friend had said excitedly.

"we'll be your guys in the chair," the other chimed in. "here the whole way."

the rest of the initial plan came easily, with the help of the people who were on your side, which you quickly learned was a group made up of more people than you thought.

very soon, it was time for step one, and you were in front of your mirror, having just finished getting ready, your friends by your side.

you took a deep breath. "what if this isn't a good idea?" you whispered.

they squeezed at your hands. "no going back now, okay? we'll be there the whole time."

"what if he's not interested?"

"look at yourself," one of them said, "don't be stupid."

"what is he thinks i'm a crazy stalker?"

your oldest friend shrugged, her eyes full of mischief. "what if you are?"

so you found yourself at a dingy, run down bar, the lights low. according to your contacts, this was where the team and their friends came after home games.

when was the last time you had come to a bar looking for something? for someone? it felt distantly familiar, but so strange, like hearing a language you spoke as a child but that hadn't graced your tongue in decades.

you had been with auston for years, after all, having met him when you were 19, him 23. a whirlwind, a tornado, a perfect tempest of pink dust and white teeth. a proposal two years later, a break off a year further.

you were 22 now, and had never felt further from your nineteen-year-old self. a foolish child, a delicate doll, a phantom cloaked in a desperate desire for acceptance, for love.

you didn't know how to flirt in this new body, new being. you didn't even really know to how flirt with anyone but auston - it had been so long since you wanted anyone else. and you didn't even really want jack, at this point. you just wanted justice.

a cluster of motion and noise behind you ripped you from your thoughts. you didn't turn, though, just stirred your drink, let the liquid settle again until you could see yourself in the reflection. until you could make out your eyes, until you could plead with your mouth to tell you what to say.

a game, the beautiful girl mouthed to you, a secret code, it's only a game.

your hazy eyes caught on a pool table in the corner of the bar, vacant, the lamp above it flickering. you smiled to yourself, made your way over, picked out a cue, ran your fingers along the edge of it.

you took a sip of your drink before setting it down, lining yourself up to break. with a swift, even motion, a pleasant cracking noise rung out, colorful balls moving in different directions.

you scrunched up your nose, having sunk none initially, gracefully lining up to go again when you felt a few figures approach.

the first one who spoke, the one right next to you, was not someone you recognized. you didn't even think he was on the team, but he had the build of a hockey player, probably a quick center.

"need a private lesson, there, sugar?" he asked sleazily, his voice the arrogant drawl of a child, almost endearing in its steadiness. he leaned on the table as you looked up at him, straightened, tilted your head to rest against the cue.

"awful kind of you, coach of the year," you teased before nodding to the other person who had joined you, looming across the table like a shadow. "gonna help me beat your friend?"

your new coach scoffed, ran a hand through his long, unruly hair. "trust me, sugar," he said, "you don't need any help beating him."

you locked eyes with the figure across the table, whom you had only seen before on a screen, the one you had heard about in the arms of your ex-fiance. here he was, the soft contours of his face shimmering in the dim light. the mythical and heroic jack hughes, the shaker of the unshakeable auston matthews.

he was shorter than you expected. "not much of a competitor, is he?" you asked the man next to you, talking about jack as if he wasn't right there. as if you hadn't been looking at him the entire time. "doesn't like to play?"

you tilted your head, dared him with your eyes to prove you wrong. the familiar fire of flirtation, of the chase you hadn't engaged with in years flared when he took a step out of the shadows, letting you see him clearly and up close.

during your research, you had seen pictures of him, but they didn't do him even a semblance of justice. he was gorgeous in a fairytale prince sort of way, like he might save the day with a true love's kiss at any moment. his eyes were a striking blue, his nose almost dainty, his jaw angular. your gaze caught on his full mouth before finally landing on his eyes again. he had the kind of complexion and expression you could tell lit up when he smiled. your stomach twisted at the thought. a game, you repeated in your mind. only a game.

"i'll play," he said simply, his voice goofy in a way you weren't used to. not sleazy, like his friend, who was currently behind you while you bent forward, lining up the cue. it wasn't the classic baritone you were used to hearing in auston, but something more cautious, something sweeter.

the game progressed, each of you sinking shots with the tell-tale soft thud. it was his long-haired friend, the one who kept calling you sugar like you were some southern belle, who was much closer to you, who was adjusting your hips and arm placement before each turn, who was flirting with you so openly, his breath hot on your neck, his gaze open and obvious.

even then, a quick exchange of glances with jack felt much more intimate than any innuendo-filled comment and fumbling touch from his friend. whenever jack would sink a ball, his eyes would flutter up to meet yours in a fleeting catch of flame, of promise, of knowing.

with only a few balls still on the green felt of the table, his careful voice broke you from your trance. "what are we playing for?" he asked, eyes alight.

the look you shared was teasing, probing, yet deadly serious. this is everything, the look said. are you ready to give everything?

"how about this?" you began, your tone light and smoky. "if you win, you get my number." his full mouth quirked upwards in the slightest of smirks. "and if i win, i give it to him," you finished, nodding towards his sugar-spewing friend.

jack looked at his friend. "good with you, z?" he asked.

his friend, z, you guessed, let a cocky smirk drape across his face like velvet curtains. "more than good," he said, "as we're gonna win."

with the stakes agreed upon, the game continued until only the eight ball remained. you lined yourself up, your ever-so-involved coach just next to you as you called your pocket.

"have a game, sugar, here we go."

you ignored his friend's voice, lining your cue up perfectly, the smooth wood resting delicately between your fingers, the angle of your arm and neck smooth and sensual. everything about your preparation lent itself to a winning strike, everyone at the table knew it. you could feel it in z's early celebration, see it in the slight quiver of jack's hand.

bent over the table, in the final seconds before your strike, you peered up at jack through dark lashes, all dim light and foggy promise. you gave him a sly smirk as you followed through, the black and white ball missing the pocket by an inch, hitting the side of the table with a soft sound.

jack narrowed his eyes at you with a curious sort of look before quickly calling his pocket and immediately sinking the ball.

his friend sucked on his teeth before throwing up his hands in defeat. "christ, sugar, didn't take you for a choke artist," he said. "unless you're into that." he shot you a wink before heading off to grab a drink.

for the first time, it was just you and jack. you leaned on your cue, let your gaze fall over him lazily, in the same way you knew he was doing to you. he was close now, close enough that you could see how blue his eyes were, how long his lashes, how high and soft his features, how his hair was just a little too long on the sides.

"you let me win," he said, a gentle observation, not anything accusatory.

you smiled. "prove it," you said, to which a matching smile graced his own face.

"must be my lucky night, then," he said as he handed you his phone and you typed your number in.

you laughed. "i don't know," you mused, "you seem like a guy who's used to getting what he wants." and he did seem like that - who could say no to those pretty eyes?

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, a motion you tracked. "'m a guy used to earning what he wants," he corrected, and you hummed. a distinction that auston had never made, even though he worked hard, sure. but he was a natural. what would it be like to be with someone to whom everything didn't come just so, so, easily?

"like to work for it, hm?" you teased.

his gaze dropped to your mouth for a second before returning to your eyes.

you stepped forward, pushed and poked at the imaginary line between the two of you. you looked up at him, gently swiped at his cheekbone with your thumb, felt heat rumble between the two of you, something volcanic. "don't work yourself too hard, yeah?"

without a second glance, you placed your cue against the table, grabbed your bag and made for the door.

on your way out, you overhead the conversation that had erupted in your exit.

"i was the one talking to her the whole time," that long-island-ish drawl said.

"if you think she was into you for even a second, you're an idiot," jack replied.

you swore the door was chuckling as it shut behind you.

everything had gone exactly as you'd hoped, exactly as you'd known it would, so you weren't at all surprised to receive a text the next day asking if you were around that night to get a drink.

so you found yourself at a different bar, this one a bit more upscale, quickly spotting jack as he waited for you outside. you blew out a breath as you approached, as a smile made his face glow. it was still so new to find someone else beautiful. when would you get used to his imperfect teeth, his oceanic eyes, his feminine nose, this greek sculpture opposed to autson's roman one?

you blinked. "hi," you said, suddenly feeling lame.

his mouth quirked. "hey." he opened the door for you, nodded. "after you."

"i'm gonna warn you," you started as you ducked past him and into the building. "i haven't been on a date in a while."

he shoved his hands in his pockets, a juvenile habit that made you blush. "find that hard to believe," he said, his tone playful. "pretty girl like yourself."

you scrunched up your nose at that. pretty girl. auston had called you that so many times, but for the first time you actually thought about its meaning. something flipped in your stomach at jack calling you pretty, but it was the girl part that had you pausing for a moment.

you were a girl, pretty much, you were jack's age, but you hadn't felt like one in so long. maybe it was being with someone a little older, but you felt almost ancient, so tired, so drained. but here you were, on a date, every bit the pretty girl he had deemed you.

you just laughed, taking a seat at the counter, smoothing out your dress against your legs. "real sweet talker, are you?" you joked, turning to him and meeting his eyes.

his mouth quirked like he knew something you didn't. "somethin' like that," he said.

the night went by fast, conversation flowing easily, no sign of pressure or anything of the like. you asked about his career, what he did that day, his family, his friends. he made you laugh, and it came so easily, so fluidly. he asked you about what you liked to do, what you were studying in school, how you were enjoying jersey.

surprisingly, you found yourself wanting to be completely honest with him, even though you couldn't be. you found yourself wanting to tell him everything, to answer any question he asked, to never leave him wishing or wanting even for a second.

you got hung up on the curve of his upper lip, on the slope of his shoulders under his button down, on his girlish laugh, his firefly of a smile.

the night was over too soon. too soon, you had the sinking feeling that you were in over your head, that perhaps you had chosen the wrong person for your revenge plot. you wanted to hurt auston, after all, but not yourself. certainly not this shimmery spark of a boy in front of you.

he walked you out, both of you pausing outside the bar, under the dull streetlight, a theatre spotlight for your praiseworthy performance.

you turned to look at him, and him at you, sinking into each others' gazes like quicksand, the air thick with expectation.

"i don't kiss on the first date," you blurted out, talking to his lips, talking to yourself.

he smiled, his shoulders rumbling in a laugh. "'s okay," he breathed, "like to work for it, remember, baby?"

you shook your head as your cheeks erupted in a delighted rosy flush. "goodnight, jack," you said, your voice every bit the giveaway. he returned the sentiment with a knowing grin.

the next day, you invited your girls over to watch him play. as you all settled on the couch, a homemade cocktail in your hand, you couldn't help but hide your face when the camera lingered on his profile during the anthem.

one of your friends gave a mock-salute. "god bless america," she said, shaking her head as you threw a pillow at her.

"alright," you chastised.

"what?" she asked, raising a brow, "just appreciating the wonderful offerings of our country."

your other friend shook her head. "you don't usually go for guys like him, eh?" she asked. "i mean, ever since we were in middle school you always went for the guys with biceps bigger than my face." she held her hands in front of her face for visualization.

"'s not like he's tiny," you said, almost embarrassed.

"no, no," she amended, "but he's no auston. he's just, i don't know, pretty."

you smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. auston was so masculine in every way, and jack was softer, somehow, pretty in a way you didn't usually go for.

pretty in a way that made you smile at your phone when he texted you the next day, asking if he could cook you dinner later that week.

you were blushing to yourself, the morning of, after he had texted you asking if you had any dietary restrictions.

and you didn't, but wasn't it just the sweetest, most thoughtful thing to ask? would you have even thought to ask?

i want you to be comfortable, his text said, i want you to laugh with your mouth full in my kitchen.

careful, angel, a deep voice called from the back of your mind, from the inside of your teeth. this is about me, remember?

your fingers twitched with the reminder as you stood on his front stoop, waiting for jack to answer the bell. the air had a brisk twinge of a chill to it, a chill that had your nose turning pink and your feet stiffening in your boots.

but he answered the door, and the breath you blew out rose between the two of you like a misty curtain, one you resented, because it distorted your view of him, even just so.

the mist settled, and his smile was left in its wake.

a smile that silenced all the gossiping voices in your head, left the throne of their malevolent king vacant, abandoned.

"you're here," he breathed, almost like he couldn't believe it, like he couldn't believe you.

"and it's your fault," you teased, scrunching up your nose.

he shook his head, laughed at some joke in his mind, stepped aside. "you must be freezing, baby, come in."

the butterflies in your chest soared as he helped you shoulder off your coat, his fingers leaving just a ghost of a touch on your wrist, the back of your neck, leaving scorched skin behind. you shivered, took in his graceful figure hanging your coat up on a hook by the door, let a smile come easily to your face when he turned back to you.

"what?" he said, grinning.

you let out a half-laugh. "nothing," you said, looking around as you kicked your shoes off. anything to avoid the white-hot light of his undivided attention. "i like your place."

and you did like it, truly, it was just so unexpected. homely, not cluttered, but definitely not the modern, futuristic, almost barren aesthetic you can come to associate with successful hockey players.

he flashed you a shy smile as he led you into the kitchen, bowing his head, making his hair fall into his face, almost bashful. "it likes you too," he told you, swinging his hand up to hit the top of the doorframe like a basketball-obsessed middle-schooler. you bit your lip to stop your grin.

what a pleasure it was to get to know all the most intricate and intimate manners of someone new.

"everything's almost done, now," he said, quickly turning off the stovetop and peering through the glass of the oven.

his tone was much more at ease then when you had talked to him before. he was at home here, and you could tell. he wore home like a hand-me-down sweater, too big in the shoulders and worn in the elbows, but lovely and familiar in all of its comfort.

you sat atop a stool at his counter, nervously rubbing the sole of one foot into the top of the other. "thanks for cooking, jack," you said, "you really didn't have to do anything fancy, or anything." suddenly, sitting here in this space, surrounded by the evidence of his effort, you felt guilt settle deeply into your body. unworthiness, perhaps, of the smell of food in the air, of the drink he had poured for you so gently, of the smile he kept throwing your way.

that voice in your head huffed. look at all this, he said, look at the burden you are.

and you were feeling it, so heavily, until jack took a sip of his own drink and waved you off, furrowing his brow as if confused. "'s how a date works, right, baby?" he said. he tilted his head, teasing, "tellin' me no one's ever pulled out all the stops for you?"

and you laughed, shook your head, because you supposed it was, supposed no one really had.

you got to know each other even better over the meal he had cooked, surprising you once again with how easy everything felt between you.

"tell me what you did today," he might say, his voice soft, muffled from chewing.

and you might tell him about your classes, how midterms were coming up, how you were nervous but felt pretty good about most of them.

maybe then you would ask about practice that morning, to which he would tell you some story about his teammates, how they were giving it to him all morning.

"why?" you might ask, to which he would look up at you with that bashful flush.

"'cause they knew you were coming over tonight," he admitted, pushing broccoli around his plate. "kept saying how i was probably gonna make you a box of kraft or something."

you laughed, a genuine rumble from deep in your chest, tilting your head back. when you looked back at him, he was looking at you with something like wonder.

and maybe later, you would ask what his favorite part of his house was, and he would say it was his wall of framed pictures, which would make you melt a little bit, your heart a puddle of feeling.

too soon, you were setting down your fork and knife, crossing and uncrossing your legs in restlessness.

"did you like it?" he would ask, his voice so full of hope it could have killed you.

so full of hope that you reached across the counter to hold his hand in yours, if only for a moment, to squeeze his fingers in meaningful emphasis.

your touch caught him by surprise, hesitant for a moment before locking eyes with you, simmering, then squeezing your hand back in his warm, callused grip.

a grip that said i'm no natural, but i'll work for it. for you.

"it was perfect," you said honestly, because it was. "but please, please let me do the dishes," you pleaded, looking at him through your lashes, just wanting to do something to help.

it would feel so wrong to be doted on for the whole night while giving nothing in return. at the very least, it would feel foreign.

he shook his head playfully, but relented. "you can help," he conceded, "but 'm not letting a pretty girl clean up my mess by herself."

you scoffed with a smile, squeezed his hand a final time before pushing yourself off of your stool, gathering all the plates and glasses in a single go.

"where'd you learn how to do that?" he asked, genuinely, as he followed you to the sink.

you carefully set everything down in a graceful swoop, let your lips quirk upwards in nostalgia. "once a waitress, always a waitress," you explained, referring to your short-lived stint at a busy restaurant in toronto before auston insisted on you staying home.

and at the time, even a little now, it was a sweet gesture, one you had taken as him wanting you to relax, wanting you to have the freedom to do whatever you wanted with your days.

you just secretly wished he had considered that what you wanted to do with your days was working, going to school, doing something for yourself.

jack leaned on the edge of the counter, his lopsided grin like an electric jolt to your heart. "what, did they show you the door 'cause you were making all the tips?" he teased, nevertheless making you blush as you washed the plates with soap. "not fair for everyone else, 's that it?"

you gasped in dramatic accusation, flicking sudsy water from your fingers his direction. "how dare you?" you exclaimed before turning away from him in a huff, feigning sadness. "'s not like i can control this face."

his mouth widened in shock, then took on a scheme-filled smile as soon as the water hit him, a short laugh escaping him. "you didn't," he said, dipping his hand in the soap and flinging some at you.

you squealed, holding your hands up to shield your face as he reached in for more, bubbles filling both of his palms. "wait, jack, i'm sorry!" you laughed. "i swear, i didn't mean to!"

"liar," he cooed, his gaze sparking like a lighter, you swore you could hear the clicking sound. then he was right in front of you, only a breath apart, so close you swore you could feel the beat on his heart in your own chest.

he reached down and gently held your face in his hands, the soap now all along your jaw and cheeks.

you closed your eyes for a second, sighed in defeat, still so aware of him so close, of his touch, feather-light on you skin.

when they opened again, you both had not moved, frozen in place, perhaps willed by the moment, compelled by the growing sensation of rightness, of being exactly where you were supposed to be. when he spoke, he was speaking to your lips, dragging his gaze back up to your eyes like it weighed something stark.

"do you kiss on the second date?" he breathed, and your breath caught, your heart stuttering at his utter politeness, his thoughtfulness, the idea that he remembered things you had told him.

you bit your tongue, because, if you were being honest, you usually didn't - you took the rule of threes very personally. you liked to take your time, savored that lovely period of what could be. besides, you had learned the hard way what happened when you let people in your life too quickly, too hastily. you knew all too well that giving in to a toothy smile and a sleeve of tattoos only led to shrugs met with tears.

but here, now, with jack's soapy hands on your face, in the space he had so warmly accepted you into, you had the feeling this boy in front of you was going to be an exception. that he would be an exception for many things, perhaps the exception.

as if hearing your internal dialogue loud and clear, he dipped his head down until he was impossibly close, so when he spoke you could feel the words on your lips.

"please let me kiss you, baby," he pleaded, his eyes hooded and heavy, his voice a rasp.

deciding he was an exception indeed, you answered him by pressing up on your toes, meeting his mouth with yours in a kiss that bruised.

and later, you would think about how auston had never been a please let me kiss you man, instead he had been a give me a kiss, angel kind of guy.

after, you would think about how it felt so much more personal, so much more sweet to be asked please, can i instead of being ordered give me, give me, give me, like a demanding, red-faced child.

later, you would think about how the previous kisses in your life paled in comparison to the feeling of jack's lips on yours. how before this moment, you were used to kisses that felt like transactions, like the necessary box being checked before the next step, how they felt like being swallowed.

after, you would swoon over all the details and nuances, but, right now, there was nothing but his lips, his hands, the way he melted into you and practically whimpered when you kissed him harder.

kissing him didn't feel like being swallowed, it felt like taking the biggest deep breath of your life after slowly suffocating for years. you forgot you had soap bubbles all over your face, you forgot about auston, you forgot about everything - there was only him, and you, in this moment.

he held your face like you were something precious, moving one hand into your hair as you wrapped your arms around his neck. he tasted like lemon and rosemary, as well as something so deliciously him you could feel yourself become addicted immediately.

his grip in your hair was soft, and when his lips moved against yours it felt like melting snow in the warmth of the morning, pure and sweet and natural and right. kissing him felt like waking up with sunlight streaming through the windows, like laughing while taking your makeup off, like cinnamon and clove and home.

when you pulled away from him, only just slightly, both of you catching your breath heavily, he opened his eyes slowly, almost reluctantly. his eyes were almost glazed over, and you had a feeling yours looked in a similar way, syrupy and hot.

he gently swiped his thumb along your swollen bottom lip as if testing to make sure you were real, not just some shadow, not just a dream.

you traced your nails along his neck, smiled as he brought his hands down to wrap around your middle, resting them on the small of your back.

"god, you're just so fucking pretty, aren't you?" he breathed, like a revelation.

you swore he had your head spinning for days after, days you unfortunately and cruelly had to spend apart due to a week-long road trip for the team.

you told yourself it was a good thing that he was going away for a bit, as it would give you a second to regroup, to revaluate, to familiarize yourself with what your initial goal was for your plan. you reminded yourself over the week apart that jack was a means to an end, that whatever had blossomed between the two you had a finish line, that all of it was meant to make a point, then hopefully leave this whole hockey world behind after the damage had been done.

but then one of your girls would throw on the game, and jack's expressive face would fill the screen, chewing on the fingers of his gloves during warm ups, and your heart would sink at the thought of leaving him behind. and it just about combusted at the idea that you were using him, even though that's exactly what you were doing.

you've only been on two dates with him, only kissed once, you reminded yourself. he's probably seeing other people, anyways, probably with some other girl right now. it's not like you're exclusive. this is probably not a big deal to him.

the thought was comforting but also devastating, a brick in your stomach.

while he was away, midterms came and went. as you walked into your last one, you thought about maybe texting jack after, trying to get together tonight, since he would finally be back.

then your pen hit the paper and time passed in a blur.

you exited the lecture hall in a flurry of relief and pride, happy to have accomplished something so concrete, something that you had truly worked hard on.

walking down the stairs outside of the entrance, your smile stilled, frozen in shock, when you looked up from your feet and saw a familiar, beautiful figure leaning against his car, an excited grin on his face, flowers in his grip as he locked eyes with you, making your breath catch.

"is that jack hughes?" some kid from your class said altogether too loudly to his friend. you had seen that same kid wearing devils gear more than once.

his friend didn't look up from his phone. "who's jack hughes?" he replied.

you couldn't stop your disbelieving laugh, your smile, already making your cheeks sore as you finished descending the stairs, until you were in front of him, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug before you even realized what you were doing.

this was so unlike you, really, letting yourself feel as deeply as you could without filtering it, but anything else would have felt so wrong it could have killed you. especially when he brought his arms around you without even a second's hesitation, held you tight and close, so you could feel the petals of the flowers on the back of your neck.

"you're here," you said, breathlessly, still shocked, into his firm chest.

"had to make it back for your last test," he said into your hair, both of you not wanting to let go.

"how did you know?" you murmured, pulling away from him, only slightly.

he loosened his embrace, pulled away to get a look at you, let his eyes run over you carefully, indulgently. he pushed your hair back from your face, his touch gentle, like you were a relic, something worth treasuring. "you said so, last week," he said simply, like it was obvious.

he said it as if, for years of your life, you had wished and yearned so reverently for auston to remember the little things, like your coffee order, like the dates on which your parents were coming to visit, like your anniversary.

he said it as if it didn't mean the entire world that he had listened, that he had remembered.

you only leaned into his chest, looked up at him with something seriously dangerous in your eyes, something that was not supposed to be there. "'d you bring me flowers, jack?" you asked, a playful note in your tone.

he flushed, so lovely, hid his face behind the bouquet, peeking only one deep blue eye out, as if embarrassed. "too much?" he asked, still shielding his face.

you laughed, squeezed his bicep lightheartedly. "just enough," you assured him, your eyes full of meaning, willing him to lower his shield, let you see the face you had been dreaming of all week. "thank you. i missed you."

you would have told him that a thousand times just to see the way his whole face lit up, like he could never hide how happy your words made him. he wore the late afternoon sunshine like a dream, the dewy rays dripping down his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, slow and golden as honey.

he had this way of making you feel like you were first choice, every time, and it was so foreign that you hadn't known you had been craving it until he had laid it at your feet like an offering. every time he texted you to check in, to ask how your day was, to finalize plans, it would send a flurry of butterflies swarming your chest, a rosy flush to the bridge of your nose.

he was so, so beautiful, inside and out, that you effectively forgot what the whole point of your plan was in the first place. you basically had forgotten about it, that day that he dragged you along with some of his friends to pick out a christmas tree.

"do i know any of these friends?" you had asked on the way up, riding shotgun, reaching over periodically to run your nails along his neck, just below his hairline, your way of saying i'm happy you're here. and he would reach over and rest his hand on your thigh, not possessive, just a reminder of your presence. a reminder that made your insides twist with want, nonetheless, that made your gaze simmer.

one of the things you appreciated so genuinely about jack was that he didn't rush you for even a second, so happy to go at whatever pace made you most comfortable, whatever pace would keep you around the longest. it felt almost wrong that his acceptance of a slow pace made you want to speed things up, made you want to know what he felt like in your hands, what sounds he might make if you teased him, what his voice would sound like in your bed.

he let out a rumble of a laugh at your question, shaking you from your daze. "you'll definitely recognize one of them," he said. "though i don't know if he's fully recovered from your last meeting."

"oh no." you paled. "not him." you winced, thinking about how you had probably bruised his inflated ego. not beyond repair, though, you knew. for guys like that, never beyond repair.

jack traced circles on your thigh with his thumb in affirmation. "don't worry, baby," he said, "told 'm to be on best behavior."

when you arrived, you recognized that boisterous voice immediately.

"so good to see you again, sugar," he drawled, his tone especially toying.

you decided to cut any hard feelings immediately, going up to him and giving him a quick hug in greeting. "i think i owe you a thank you, coach of the year," you said, pulling away with a smile.

luckily, he seemed to forgive quickly, even to appreciate your efforts. "i prefer my thank yous in hot chocolate form," he said, and you promised to fulfill his request later. he gave you his name in exchange for yours.

you spent the afternoon leisurely ambling around the grounds, looking at potential trees, but really just enjoying the company of those around you.

most of the time, you spent laughing, tucked into jack's side, finding warmth in the firm feeling of his hip against your waist.

"what about this one?" trevor asked, holding up an especially short and stout one.

the two of you decided jack would need a taller one to better suit the ceiling proportions in his living room.

walking around, it felt like you were in your own dreamy winter wonderland, in a fog of laughter and warmth and a million other beautiful things.

"you leave again tomorrow?" you asked at one point, unable to hide the slight disappointment in your voice. you peered up at him, your eyes warm, your cheeks rosy from the cold.

he met your gaze and nodded, hugged you tighter into his side. "back in a few days," he said.

you couldn't help but pout just a little. jack's roadtrips felt longer and more lonely than auston's ever had.

jack ran his thumb along your bottom lip. "what's that for, baby?" he asked.

you shrugged. "just gonna miss you, 's all," you told him honestly.

something sweet bubbled up in his gaze, but the moment was effectively interrupted by trevor's voice coming from behind you, now shockingly close.

"oh?" he said, dramatic, "what's this? is that - mistletoe?" he emphasized all of his words with dramatic pauses. you briefly thought that maybe, if he hadn't been all in on hockey, he would have made an excellent theater kid.

you both turned to find trevor standing right behind you, holding an alarmingly large branch of something that resembled mistletoe.

"where did you find that?" jack asked his friend.

"never mind that," trevor said, waving him off.

you elbowed jack lightly. "looking for an excuse not to kiss me, are you?"

he shook his head incredulously, as if you had said something funny. you were about to tease him again, but he didn't give you the chance, immediately taking your face in his hands and angling his head down slightly to meet you in a kiss that seared every bit of chill from the air.

would you ever get used to this? would his lips ever not feel like they belonged on yours? would your heartbeat ever not thrum, like some perfect harmony?

the warmth of his hands on your face, the security of yours against the plane of his chest, all of it, everything - it was so perfect you wanted to stay here, just like this, forever. and the thought didn't even scare you as want began to pool inside of you, hot and heavy.

a mixture of a cough and a laugh had the two of you pulling away from each other. one of jack's other friends who had tagged along let out a low whistle, making you blush deeper.

jack just slung a heavy arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

luckily, trevor's attention had already strayed, as he was now holding the branch over his own head and the head of the other friend. "don't fight it!" he was calling out as the friend broke out into a light gait.

"get away from me, you scumbag," the poor kid called out over his shoulder.

your eyes were stuck on jack's face, still hazy from your kiss. he turned to you, his mouth quirking up. "staring, baby?" he said, low enough for only you to hear.

you nodded, shameless. "want you," you told him plainly, barely recognizing the tone of your own voice.

the fire in his own eyes welled up as you placed your hands flat on his chest. "fuck, now, baby?" he asked, looking around to where his friends chased each other around.

you bit your lip, pleaded him with your eyes. "please, jack," you said, "please take me home."

he took your hand in his immediately, tossed some parting words over his shoulder to his friends, who paused, watched the two of you stumble into jack's car with urgency.

as he started the engine and pulled away, you heard a faint the hell are we supposed to do with this tree?

the car ride back felt longer than it really was, both of you practically buzzing with want. you kept a hand in his hair, his palm planted firmly on the inside of your thigh, close but not close enough.

you let out a sigh of relief when he pulled into the driveway, let him pull you into the house, push you up against the closed door, kiss you again with heat and force and somehow, such softness.

it was the softness that filled you with want. his desire was obvious, especially when he pressed his hips up, hard against you, but that didn't mean he wasn't just so gentle with you, so in tune to what you wanted.

you fisted your hands in his hair, pulled until his posture faltered, until his lips parted further and he moaned into your mouth.

you hooked a leg around his hip to bring him closer, relished the way he began to rock against you.

"fuck, baby," he breathed out, strained, stuttering in places, "don't wanna fuck you against the door."

later, you would think about how auston had never had such a problem. he had never cared where you were, how uncomfortable a position had made you. sometimes you had thought he found his own bed boring.

but jack just pulled you into his room, lightly rocked you back onto the bed, pressed soft kisses down your jaw, your neck, your stomach. you both pushed and pulled clothes aside, looking to give the other as much access as possible.

"so fuckin' pretty," he mumbled against your stomach, making you flush all over.

"please, jack," you whined as he slowly dragged his fingers through your folds, making you shiver.

"what do you need, baby?" he asked, pumping himself a few times, up and down, his voice low and rough.

you sat up for a moment, took hold of his hand, peered up at him through your lashes as you spit into it.

he groaned, ran his hand over his cock, now glistening with your spit. desire glowed in your eyes like fireflies. "tell me," he begged.

you laid back on the bed again, the smell of him everywhere. another time, you would insist on feeling him in your mouth, maybe on feeling his mouth on you, but you knew the both of you were far too desperate for that.

"just need you inside me, baby, please," you said, your eyes raking over his figure above you, all gentle slopes and hard lines together.

"ask me so good, baby, so good for me," he said, a careful rasp. he thumbed your clit, making you jolt, dragging his fingers through you again before bringing them to his mouth. "and so ready, hm?"

you nodded feverishly, your mouth falling open as he finally pushed into you, his groan deep.

you whined, the stretch so surreal as you reached forward to grasp at his forearm, anything to ground you.

staying still in the stretch for a second, you waited for the feeling to weaken, but it didn't, not really.

he dropped his head, his exhale coming out shallow, the muscles in his shoulders constrained.

you tightened your grip on his forearm, let your nails dig into him to pull him back to you.

"fuck, baby, i can't," he bit out, "can't, i swear."

you rolled your hips back and forth, trying to will some movement from him. "please, jack, please move," you begged. "please fuck me, baby."

never one to deny you, he began a slow pace, the friction and depth almost unbearable. one of his hands dug into your hip, so hard you could feel bruising, the other beginning to rub careful circles on your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

"you're so deep," you choked, "faster, baby, need you faster."

he obliged, picking up the pace of his rhythm, moving his hand faster against your clit, making that wave well up within you, forcing moans from your throat.

"fuck, sound so pretty, baby," he said, a glistening sheen now painted across his brow, his collarbones. "so pretty, squeezing me so perfect."

the muscles of his stomach began to contract as you felt yourself dangerously close.

his rhythm continued, bruising in depth and force, so lovely in softness. you tugged his hand from your hip, placed his fingers on your tongue, desperate for something to do with your mouth. you sucked, pulling a guttural moan from him. "don't stand a chance when you do that, baby, swear," he said, "fuck, don't stand a chance with you, hm?"

you felt yourself smile around his hand, your eyes watering, glazed over.

"gonna make me cum, baby," he whined, his motions becoming jerky, his voice little more than a plea. "cum with me, baby, hm? make me feel so good, yeah?"

you fell over the edge at his words, felt his orgasm follow yours almost immediately, the air warm and sticky around you. he collapsed on top of you, his exhales like liquid on your skin, yours like dreamy sighs as he pulled you to him, held you close as you waited for the rise and fall of your chests to settle.

he drew his fingers lazily around the flesh of your thigh, your hip, you pushed his hair back from his face as you both fought sleep, wanting just a few more seconds in the conscious presence of the other.

everything was so lovely you could barely stand it.

you should have known it wouldn't last long.

a day into jack's time away, you received a text from one of your friends in toronto. it was a picture from auston's instagram with the message just thought you should know. we miss you.

something cracked in your chest at the photo of your ex-fiance and this new girl. it wasn't really jealousy, definitely not desire, no, it was harder to pinpoint.

maybe it was the fact that after four years of being together, and after a whole year of being engaged, auston had never once even thought about posting a picture of the two of you.

and you had always chalked it up to the fact that you didn't have any social media, but now, you realized there was something to be said about letting the world know that you were taken.

and you also knew, now, that that was a statement auston had been unable to make your entire relationship.

a voice in the back of your mind, tone watery with tears, wailed. what makes her so special? it pressed. what makes her so much better than me?

it didn't help that she looked absolutely nothing like you. you wondered passingly if you would have preferred a look-a-like to be staring back at you through your screen. you didn't really know, but you did know that her features were sharp to your soft, your eyes are hair completely different in coloring. her face had you questioning if he had ever really found you beautiful, or if you had been the exception to his regular type. the idea weighed heavily on your shoulders like a cape made of cement.

but you knew, at the end of the day, that it was not about her.

and so you decided that as much as your relationship with jack had become genuine, maybe it was time to bring back the plan, just a little.

it can be two things, you told yourself, jack doesn't need to get hurt.

so when jack arrived back from the road, your relationship now teetered on a tightrope, balancing between two things, two motives like a trapeze artist.

still, you tried your best not to let your desire to rip out the heart of your ex-fiance stand in between you and jack. you could be bloodthirsty and gentle at the same time, you told yourself. two things.

the idea became easier when jack began to ask you to come to his games.

at first, you had been skeptical. auston hadn't wanted you there until maybe a year and half into your relationship. you didn't want to push this, press your luck, make yourself a burden, in fear of him abandoning you.

"are you sure you want me there?" you had asked the first time, a little timid, your face resting on your clasped hands, sitting at his kitchen counter, keeping him company as he made something on the stove.

he had turned to you, head tilted, confused. "of course i do, baby," he had said, calmly and clearly. "i want you everywhere i am."

and that had been the end of that.

so you began to become a regular attendee at his games, getting to know the people of his life more closely, becoming a fixture in his life more solidly.

you let him post a picture of the two of you, so touched that he would even ask. he showed you the post when he was done.

you kissed his shoulder in response. "your eyes are closed, jack," you said, half-laughing at the fact that he had chosen this picture, so flawed in nature.

"hm?" he looked at the picture again, then shrugged. "hadn't noticed. no one's gonna be looking at me, anyways."

you shook your head, disbelieving. he was making it hard for this to be two things. he was making it really, really hard to care if your ex-fiance even saw this post. he was making it really hard to care about your ex-fiance at all.

"i don't believe you, sometimes," you mused aloud.

he twirled a lock of your hair, mesmerized. "how?"

you tilted your head back to allow him easier access. "you're pretty perfect, you know that?" you smiled up at him, blissful. "too perfect."

seeing his face go pink with your praise made you make a mental vow to tell him more often.

and he gave you every opportunity to be surprised by his perfection, over and over.

every kiss was something teenage you would have dreamed about, every time he led you into his bedroom was something current you dreamed about. how he seemed to enjoy every moment no matter what you were doing, even how clearly he communicated with you during your first fight, all of it astounded you.

he made all of your friends jealous, but so happy for you. he met them, one time, when he dropped you off to get coffee with them after class.

he was so respectful with them, asked them genuine questions, but never anything that told you that he wasn't in on you one hundred percent.

when auston met your best friend in toronto, he had dropped your hand that he had been holding.

"didn't tell me she was so pretty, angel," he had said, and you had hoped it was just to show you he was putting in an effort to impress the people that were important to you.

when jack said he had to be going, to get to morning skate, he just kissed your cheek. "use my card, yeah, baby?" he called out, waiting for your nod and smile before he drove away.

how had you stumbled into this? was it possible that it wasn't too good to be true?

jack had asked you to come to toronto when the devils headed up north to play the leafs, because he knew you had lived there, because he had lived there, too, and wanted to show you around. and it had reached a point where refusing him when he offered a piece of himself to you seemed cruelly impossible.

you told yourself that it was just another game, just another day. it helped that you honestly didn't feel any attachment to this rink, even to this city. you had watched jack play plenty, now, and you were determined to treat this game just the same as any other, if not rooting for jack with just a little more urgency, a little more emotion.

you loved how easy he was to cheer for. you loved how you could see how much he loved the game, how he smiled after every good play, how he saw things you could have never seen on the ice. you could practically hear his laugh in the rafters, see his imperfect teeth in the glass. he was everywhere, here, are you loved it.

of course, you noticed that your ex-fiance was here, but it honestly wasn't even that bad. if anything, it was confirmation that you were over him, that what you had with jack was real, that you weren't in for revenge anymore. you weren't in this for auston at all.

until he scored, and his goal song echoed through the arena. you knew that this year, the leafs had decided to try out individual goal songs after players scored, songs that they chose before the season started.

you did not know, however, that auston matthews' goal song was the song that, months ago, was set to be the soundtrack to your first dance.

the crowd was eating it up, of course they were, the juxtaposition of auston's dynamic scoring ability with the old-fashioned crooning of you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you.

the song seemed to reverberate off of the walls, into your head, behind your eyes, where it settled like thick fog. it smelled like champagne, waxy makeup, hairspray. your eyes began to water, which made your throat constrict.

like a dream, maybe a hazy memory, your first dance that never was flashed across your mind. an ornate, almost gauche white dress, the beautiful heels you had been practicing to wear. his pressed suit, slicked back hair, stupid designer socks that used to make you laugh. his hand on your waist, your arms around his neck, the two of you lost in each other, swaying, swirling around the floor to this song, surrounded by loved ones, high on laughter and the future and love.

slowly, the image blinked out of your vision as the song faded and the puck dropped, play starting up again.

it blinked out like a dying star, and then it was exactly that. dead.

because as you trained your eyes back on the ice, never once did they stray from 86 in red. never once did anything like regret or nostalgic desire well up in your heart, because you were not the one who lost. you were not the one with something to prove.

finally, you buried that wedding dress, laid it six feet under, let the soil spoil it, knowing one day you would wear a white dress and it would mean something to both parties involved.

in a breath, the game ended, and jack won, and he was truly all you were thinking about.

waiting for him, though, practically bouncing up and down, you were suddenly pulled into a side hallway by a grip you would recognize anywhere.

you were not surprised to look up and see the calculating eyes of auston matthews looking down at you with some lethal combination of heat and arrogance.

"angel," he said, a greeting that made you grind your teeth.

you pulled your arm away from him, shook him off of you, willed strength and stone into your posture and tone. "cool goal song, asshole," you bit out.

"i missed you too," he cooed, not taking you seriously, even now. his frame seemed so imposing now, looming large, too large for someone you didn't trust.

you rolled your eyes. "if you'll excuse me, i'm waiting for someone." you turned to leave the hallway, go back to the exit where jack would surely be walking out of any minute.

auston grabbed at your wrist, and it burned. "what, you mean that kid?" he scoffed, but didn't let go. "c'mon, angel, you know he's nothing to you." he rubbed a circle into your wrist that once, might have been soothing, but now made you feel sick. "you know you're all for me."

and you could have said so many things. like how that kid was your age, actually, so what did that say about him? like how that kid was twice the man he would ever be. like how this would be the last time you ever saw him, the last time he would ever have your attention.

the opening of a door ripped you from your thoughts as both you and auston glanced up to see jack in the doorframe, his bag slung over his shoulder, his face flushed from the game, tired blue eyes caught on auston's hand around your wrist.

time froze for a millisecond as you felt like you were pulled between worlds. it can be two things, you had told yourself once. it was never two things.

you watched as painful realization settled in jack's eyes as he simply turned away, let the door close behind him.

you ripped your arm from auston's grasp. "you've never taken me seriously," you told him then, looking him square in the face, your tone steady and serious as anything. "but if you believe anything i say, let it be that you are nothing to me, and you never will be again."

for the second time, you were the one to leave, this time running towards something worth saving.

you cursed under your breath, looking around for that head of soft brown hair.

you found him in a different hallway, sitting on the ground, his bag slumped next to him, his back leaning against the wall, his feet flat on the ground.

for a single moment, it was so quiet you swore that your exhales echoed against the walls. he didn't turn to face you, but obviously knew you were there.

"so you're with him, then?" he practically whispered, his tone like a cleaver to your chest, so defeated and blindsided, almost like he was talking to himself.

you slowly made your way over to him, sat down next to him, mirrored his position. side by side, but he felt so far away. "i'm not," you said back to him.

he let out some kind of bitter laugh, a sound you hated, a sound you hoped you would never have to hear again. "so that was you making friends?" he picked at a thread on his dress pants. "just meeting new people, 's that it?"

you turned to face him, then, but he still faced forward, as if looking at you would ruin him. "it's not what you think," you said, softly.

"well, what is it?" he paused, looked at you, then, and he wore his sadness like a suit fit for mourning. "be honest with me, please."

you took a shaky breath, knowing that this, very possibly, might be the last time you would ever be so close to him. knowing that your next words, your explanation, it might drive him away from you forever, before you had even really had the chance to have him.

you savored this breath, this liminal space between the truth and the now.

"i was going to marry him," you said, and the confession felt like letting go of every single vengeful thought you had ever had, like all the spite and disdain in your body had evaporated into dust.

"you were going to marry auston matthews," jack murmured, his face blank, his tone confused.

"yes."

"but you're not anymore?" he asked, looking at you, leaning his cheek onto his knees like an impatient elementary school kid waiting for recess.

you shook your head. "no. he cheated on me."

there was a pause, brutal silence, as his brow furrowed in confusion, his fists clenched briefly before letting go. his gaze fell to his hands for a moment, and when he spoke again it was so cautious, so pointed, that your stomach sank. "and then you just happened to start dating me?" he looked so tired. "same job, same goals, pretty much same life." he let out a breath. "you can't tell me that's a coincidence."

you sighed, prayed to whatever god would listen that honesty would count for something. "no, it wasn't a coincidence." your heart felt like it was lulling itself to sleep. "you were never a coincidence."

he dropped his head between his knees, and hurt vibrated through the air like sound waves. you could feel his hurt in your fingertips, could have melted in down, frozen it, wielded it like a weapon. "tell me something, baby," he pleaded, muffled by his legs. "please."

you knew it was unfair, but you laid a gentle hand on his fingers. "let me tell you all of it, please, jack, and then you don't have to see me again if you don't want to."

he took a breath that you felt in your bones, then in an act of mercy you cherished, gave a soft nod.

so you did. you told him the whole story - how you had been so devastated and hurt that you were blinded by a desire to make auston suffer. how you had chosen jack on purpose, because you knew it would cut the deepest. how you had not simply shown up randomly at that bar, all that time ago, how all of it was part of a plan, down to flirting with his friend, down to that first game of pool.

he didn't push your hand away, actually leaned his leg into your arm as you told him the story. the scary part's over, you wanted to say, you can stop hiding under the covers, now.

and so you told him about how he had hijacked your plan entirely. how you never expected to determine how good your day was based on how often you heard his laugh, how no one could have predicted how often you dreamed of his smile, how days when he was away truly felt like a loss.

"if i had known you, i never would have put you through this," you told him, finally, honestly. "i would have left you alone."

he was quiet for a moment, and then he picked his head up and looked at you, genuinely, thoughtfully. "you never would have used me to get back at your ex-fiance?" he asked, but there was not really any bite in his tone.

you tried your luck, reached up, brushed his damp hair from his forehead. "i did use you," you admitted. "and i don't have an excuse." he looked at you with clear eyes. "it was mean, and cruel, and all i can do is say that i'm so, so sorry and i will never hurt you like that again. i promise, that's the truth."

in the silent moments after you finished speaking, you closed your eyes for a brief moment, waiting for his reaction.

when you opened your eyes, he was looking at you. he opened his legs and knees wide, held open his arms, waiting. "i believe you."

it took no convincing for you to settle into the space he had created for you, to lean back against his chest, feel his heartbeat between your shoulder blades, his arms coming around your sides to clasp in front of your middle.

"you believe me?" you said, almost a whisper. you picked up his hand, held it to your chest, shocked that he was letting you. shocked that he was still here, making space for you.

you let the smell of him engulf you. it felt similar to walking into your mother's closet - the evidence of her living, loving, everywhere around you. the evidence of jack was everywhere, now, all over you, growing like some carnivorous plant over your heart.

"you promised," he said simply, into your hair.

and how spectacular it felt for someone to take you seriously, to take your words at face value, to understand that when you promised something, you meant it.

it felt like words were failing you, so you brought his hand to your mouth and pressed your lips to his palm lightly.

he hummed into your hair. "tell me about now," he said, voice steady and patient.

"hm?" you twisted your neck to look him in the eye, leaned back further until the back of your head rested on his chest.

"you told me about before. about him," he said, his eyes swimming with home, with hope. "tell me about us. tell me about now."

you searched for words, wondering how you could convey just how important he was to you, just how deeply you cared.

you could have said that his eyes were the most beautiful ocean you'd ever swam in. you could have said that kissing him felt like swallowing stardust, that listening to him talk about his day was a privilege and honor.

you could have said how you loved his voice after a long day, how he wore his emotions openly, shamelessly, how kind he was to those around him, how he didn't let you leave his house in doubt for even a second about his feelings, how he let laughter come easy, how he was many things but never, ever, indifferent.

you could have said so many things, but sometimes poetry and fancy words are inadequate, just diluting the true meaning, make it taste like watered-down juice, faint and lacking.

you could have said so many things, but you just told him the truth.

"i wake up every morning and i think of you," you said. "every moment you're not with me, i wish you were." you willed every ounce of meaning into your gaze. "you are my first choice, every time, jack. and it's not even close."

there was a silence as he processed what you said, and something like adoration dawned in his gaze like a springtime sunrise.

he tilted his head down, pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that told you he understood.

that no matter how you had gotten here, you were here, now.

"tell me again," he whispered against your mouth, and you smiled into his. that, you could do.

fin.

[lavenders-bath]

Lucilla Set ･ ˖˚ ✩

Two versions of top with/without scarf and half frame glasses.  

✩ Top V1 - 13 swatches

✩ Top V2- 18 Swatches

✩ Glasses - 17 swatches, all genders

Basic Info: all LODS, BGc/ HQc, custom thumbnails, teen-elder, not allowed for randoms.

DL FRee patreon

[lavenders-bath]

🖤 CLOTHES SET-449 BD1196 & BD1197 🖤

10 Colors

Adult-Elder-Teen-Young Adult

For Female

Compatible with HQ mod-

-New Mesh

-All Lods

- Custom thumbnail

**-Please do not re upload or claim as yours feel free to re color but do not include the mesh .

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DOWNLOAD SHORT

I hope you like them.  ♥

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