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alchemistc · 9 months ago

Text

both your hands in the holes of my sweater

It starts innocently enough. There's a chill in the air, a crisp and cool morning where neither of them have anything in particular to do, and when Evan plates up two decadent looking omelettes and suggests they eat them out on Tommy's patio Tommy can't think of a single reason why they shouldn't. The pergola is actually fully built, now, wisteria just beginning to creep across the lattice, the Adirondack chairs that have been sitting at the fence line for six months have been sprayed down and placed catty corner to the table with a built in fire pit Tommy had spent months staring at before allowing himself the indulgent purchase.

They're outside for five minutes before Tommy notices how tight Evan's arms are to his body as he eats, how the hair on his arms is standing on end.

Tommy gives it five minutes.

Evan is pretending not to shiver by the time Tommy decides Evan is officially more stubborn than he is. He'd come just off work, in a tight tee and jeans, and it's been hot as shit for weeks and he'd stopped bringing an overnight bag basically immediately when Tommy cleared out a drawer for him, so he doesn't have a jacket here.

"Evan," Tommy admonishes, after Evan's teeth clack together. "The omelettes are amazing, please go grab a jacket before you vibrate right off your seat."

He looks like he might protest, but after a careful moment where Tommy stares him down, he nods, stands - gives in and rubs his hands over his forearms as he books it back through the sliding glass door. Tommy spends the time waiting scrolling the same website he'd gotten what Evan has dubbed his "old-man robe" - he gets all the way through to choosing a cornflower blue one for his cart before Evan returns, snug as hell in one of the cardigans Tommy hasn't pulled from the back of his closet in at least a few years.

And there's something to that, actually. Tommy's dated around plenty - still remembers the way his first girlfriend had blushed beet red the first time he hooked her by her elbow to drop his letterman over her shoulders and how he'd wondered if there was something broken in him that seeing his name sprawled across her back didn't do shit for him. Still remembers the first guy who'd wrinkled his nose at Tommy's Carhartt and flannel, always half a step from dragging him into some high end shop for something Tommy absolutely knew they didn't carry with shoulders wide enough to fit him. Remembers the only other guy he'd dated who came close to matching him for size, and how he'd owned a grand total of three jackets that were tailored at the waist in a way that would have made it impossible for Tommy to close them.

So it's a first - Evan's style is changing, muteable, seems to hinge on his mood and his plans and the position of the stars in the night sky, but Tommy's never seen him in a cardigan. Give him some glasses and a collar under that shirt and...

Evan catches him staring and his grin goes wide, tongue pressing against the backs of his teeth in a way that promises at least one of them is getting a blowjob after breakfast.

---

Tommy winces against the sting as the tequila warms his throat and actually does a double take when Lucy wolf-whistles right in his ear. An hour ago, Tommy had been nursing his one beer and waiting for the text from Evan that he was leaving the firehouse, but a rollover on the 401 had run his shift long and somewhere between Evan's profuse apologies and Donato sidling up to him with a pool cue he'd agreed to shots. Date night was a wash, anyway, and Evan had seemed happy with the idea of meeting Tommy and his coworkers at the bar, and Donato was sneaky about her shots.

Tommy's - warm. Glad he'd ordered them both burgers once he got a text that Evan was on his way. Tommy is absolutely not going to make a fool of himself when he catches sight of Evan and feels the hinge of his jaw go loose.

Evan grins at him and waves at Lucy as he slides into Tommy's space. "Hi," he says, and Tommy knows he's a fucking dork but he's usually a smooth dork. Tommy's fingers drift over the pocket of his fucking flannel, dart over the rolled up shirtsleeves and the bulge of muscle stretching the seams at the shoulders and - "Nice shirts, Buckley," Donato snarks, already sliding a tequila shot past Tommy.

He's wearing one of Tommy's Henley's underneath, too. The fucker.

Evan looks a little bashful as he admits that he'd maybe gone a little too dressy for date night, and Tommy's place was closer.

Tommy knows for a fact Evan has a whole drawer of casual wear at Tommy's, but he doesn't call him on it, because this is doing something for him.

Their waitress is dropping off their burgers at the table in the corner, and Donato has already wandered off, so Tommy snags one of Evan's belt loops to tug him in, to press his lips to the bow of Evan's lip, to inhale Evan's pleased sigh. "If you catch up to me in drinks before we finish those burgers I might be convinced to let Donato mack on you again."

Evan swats his ass as he dances away, but Tommy can hear him adding a beer to Tommy's tab as he makes his way back to the pool tables.

---

Donato spends a month calling Evan "Tommy Too" around the station and Tommy's too smitten to care when half the crew picks it up.

It makes the next time Evan runs into the 217 on a call a little awkward, but Evan takes it in stride.

"No offense to the whole carpenter mechanic vibe you have going, but it's not even my style," Evan tells him, in the midst of explaining that he can't actually explain why he's constantly pilfering Tommy's shirts, jackets, and on one memorable occasion a pair of grey sweats that hadn't even made it past the bedroom door.

"It's - you can just say blue collar, Evan." The whole conversation had started when Tommy realized he was missing four different flannels and one of his tan jackets to boot. "It's fine, just - maybe stop hoarding them at your place, please? I'm running out of clothes to wear."

"We could go shopping," Evan says, with a gleam in his eye, and Tommy thinks of the party supplies debacle last month.

"No. Never again. You're a goddamn tyrant." He eases the words with a nudge of his shoulder against Evan's, and Evan grins back. He'd been mulish as hell about which balloons to get and what type of tape was allowed, and it had worked Tommy up so much they'd barely gotten through the door before Tommy was crowding him against a side table and reaching for his zipper.

One day they're gonna have an argument about trans fats in the freezer aisle of Ralph's and Tommy's gonna get a nationwide ban for public indecency.

Evan blinks away an expression before Tommy can parse it, but even though this is his first real foray into dating a clothes stealing fiend, he's heard the women in his life talk about the sentiment enough to sort of have an idea what it's all about. He takes a shot in the dark. "You can have one thing at your place at all times. Rotate them out if you want, but for the love of god don't make me go to work naked."

Evan's blink is a little less focused this time, which is absolutely Tommy's bad.

---

He doesn't really get it, is the thing. Until he does.

---

He's sulking. Tommy is absolutely sulking and he has no one to blame but himself.

"A whole wide world of fluke accidents and cursed injuries and you sprained your ankle on a basketball court," Eddie says, and they share a quick smirk between themselves at the memory of the last time they'd been to this particular urgent care.

He's got Evan's Jeep, and when Eddie gets him up into the back seat Tommy can feel the edges of his eyes getting heavy. It feels like barely a second has passed before Eddie's popping into the drivers seat

"These are good drugs," Tommy says, and then tosses the bag the pill bottle is in into the passenger seat. "Take them with you."

Eddie glances at him askance in the rearview, and Tommy's pretty sure he mumbles something vaguely coherent about addiction being a fucking genetic gift, but he's distracted by the shot of emerald green tucked into the back of the passenger seat pocket.

It smells like Evan, is the first thing he notices as he yanks it loose, and Eddie is most likely chuckling about Tommy pressing it to his face but there could also be a funny street sign. They'd gone to that brewery up in San Luis Obispo and when they'd left for the day trip it'd been chilly, but by the time they got there it'd been scorching.

Tommy spends a good ten minutes trying to figure out if he can separate the sandalwood body wash from the vanilla and vetiver cologne and then loses that train of thought when Eddie checks in. He's forced to remove the hoodie from his face with something vaguely approaching embarrassment, but Eddie just laughs. "You two are something else," he murmurs, and - it's a sentiment that's been repeated a million different times with a million different facial expressions but from Eddie, here in the quiet comfort of the Jeep, with NPR turned down low even though Eddie complains about it every fucking time he hops in to find Evan listening to it - here, it feels important.

That's probably the good drugs talking.

"I'm gonna marry that man," Tommy blurts, and Eddie doesn't do anything crazy like slam on the breaks or whip his head around. What he does do is catch Tommy's eye in the rearview and take stock of Tommy trying to stuff himself into the hoodie without unbuckling his seatbelt. He's probably gonna regret that, when the drugs wear off.

"He know that?" Eddie asks, and the edge he'd maybe expected is missing from Eddie's voice. He sounds - pleased, maybe. Knowing.

"I thought we had a hard rule about relationship talk."

Eddie hums. "You started it."

And he did, at that. Tommy isn't subtle at all about tipping his head to the side to nose at the hood of the sweatshirt. God, it's like rolling into Evan's pillow after he'd left for work.

"We've talked about it." He's aiming for casual, and it sucks that his vision isn't the best right now because he can't quite read the tilt of Eddie's brow.

Eddie makes it clear, though - a long, low whistle. "Kinda early for 'til death do us part."

"I woulda married him a month in, if he'd asked," Tommy admits, and - that's something he hadn't really planned to admit even if it's the truest thing he's ever said.

Eddie snorts. "A month after you ditched him halfway through a date?"

Tommy narrows his eyes. Tips his chin against the warming metal of the zipper where it rests against his chest. "There were extenuating circumstances."

"Like?"

"Like I was already way too invested and I didn't realize he didn't even know he was into men until I kissed him."

Eddie stews over that for the next however many blocks. Tommy tucks his thumbs into the sleeves of the hoodie and strokes them over the still downy-soft fleece lining the inside of the jacket.

"So what's the protocol with two dudes, anyway? You gotta ask each other's parents if they're cool with their sons no longer living in sin?"

Tommy snorts. "Your religious trauma is showing, jackass." He flicks a look at Eddie. "Besides, Phillip Buckley fucking loves me."

Evan had been more surprised by that than Tommy. Tommy's got a way - with fathers, with white collar men in their fifties and sixties, with - well he's got a way. They either secretly wanna fuck him or secretly wanna be him and Tommy knows how to lean into that. Without making it weird.

The rest of the drive is quiet. Eddie seems to be processing, though what, Tommy can only assume. He's got no clue what Evan tells Eddie about the two of them, unless Evan has mentioned it himself.

When he pulls into the drive, Evan's already pushing out the front door with a hand on his hip. He stills when he catches sight of the no doubt haphazardly thrown on jacket Tommy's wearing, and - yeah. Yep. He gets it now.

"I'm staying for dinner," Eddie says, with a finger aimed at Evan's face. "You get that look off your face."

Evan gestures, splutters. He's doing absolutely nothing to help Eddie guide him up the walk.

Five minutes later, when Tommy's settled in the couch with his leg elevated, Evan sends Eddie to the kitchen and spends a ridiculous amount of time fluffing pillows and gentling his hands over Tommy's legs - the good and the bad one.

Tommy's expecting a kiss, but all he actually gets when Evan draws near is an annoyed groan and a punched out sigh. "After Eddie leaves I'm gonna spend an hour telling you all the different shades of green in your eyes I've never noticed before."

Tommy grins dopily. Tugs at the hem of Evan's sweater - an old, old cable knit Tommy's surprised even fits the breadth of his shoulders when Tommy hasn't worn it since the aughts. "Eddie said no dirty talk," he admonishes, and Evan's grin as he drops his lips towards Tommy's is bright enough to power a city grid.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan fic #eddie&tommy #MORE CLOTHES SHARING

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misshoneyimhome · 3 months ago

Note

I don’t know if your requests are closed but I had this idea for a William x Reader. It’s quite long and specific, but do what you want with it. 😀

William and reader have been in the same circle of friends: they never were particularly close, but at some mutual friends and would see each other in social gatherings. Reader is from Canada, but studied or worked or has some friends from university in Sweden so she got in Willy’s friends circle. It’s been about 2 years they since they have met, and while they are not close, they have been some subtle flirting that has developed throughout that time.

However, during readers first time with her Swedish friends in St-Tropez, reader sees that William seems to have a special friend and accidentally hears them doing some stuff. While reader is still in denial for her little flirty feelings with William (she thinks he would never go for a girl like her), she feels a bit of jealousy. What happens after when her friends encourage her to bring back a beautiful french waiter for the night? What will William feel? Are they ever going to act on that little spark? Are William and reader going to end up entangled in sheets?

Sorry it’s sooooooooooo long!!!! But I just thought about that.

Oh, hello love! 😊 First off, never apologise for long requests—I love when there are details! You’re all so creative, and I’m absolutely here for it 💕

I really hope I managed to capture at least a bit of what you had in mind 🙈 And yes, William and the reader definitely end up in the sheets—it might not be explicitly in the story, but trust me, it happens 😉 (I know you guys can imagine the rest 😏)

Lots of love! ❤️

Tropes & warnings: William Nylander x reader, friends to lovers, jealousy, reader overhearing William with another woman, mild smut (William engaging in sexual activity with an unnamed female character)

Words count: 4.1K

➼｡ﾟ

Tangled in St-Tropez I William Nylander ✐[☆]

The air in St-Tropez was thick with the scent of salt and citrus, the kind of intoxicating blend that made everything feel like a dream—too vibrant, too surreal. The laughter of your Swedish friends echoed through the villa’s open-air patio, and you tried to focus on their conversation, the music, the clinking of glasses. Anything but him.

William Nylander.

For the past two years, he had been a constant presence in your life—not in a close, intimate way, but as a steady figure in your overlapping social circles. Your connection had been subtle, built on fleeting moments. A teasing smirk across a crowded room. The way his fingers would graze yours when he handed you a drink. The warmth in his voice when he greeted you. It was nothing and everything all at once.

You had met through mutual friends, the kind of introductions that happened naturally when worlds collided—your time spent in Sweden during university had woven your life into theirs. Late nights in Stockholm bars, lazy afternoons on frozen lakes, impromptu road trips across the country. Your bond with his friends had formed effortlessly, but with William, it had always been different. You had bonded over originating from Canada with a shared interest in Scandinavia. Yet, it felt like so much more. A slow burn. He was charming, easy-going in that distinctly Swedish way, but there was an edge to him, something untouchable beneath the relaxed facade.

He wasn’t the kind of guy who made grand gestures or chased after what he wanted in an obvious way. He let things unfold naturally, with that lazy, knowing confidence that made it impossible to tell what he was really thinking. He would tease, but never push. Flirt, but never cross a line. You had convinced yourself that it was nothing more than an unspoken understanding between you—harmless, weightless.

But then there were moments. Moments when you swore his eyes lingered a little too long, when his teasing turned softer, more deliberate. When his hand on your lower back felt less like a casual touch and more like a claim. It never amounted to anything tangible, but it was always there, simmering beneath the surface.

And now, here you were, in St-Tropez, in the golden haze of a Mediterranean summer, surrounded by friends, the warmth of the evening pressing against your skin—and for the first time, the weight of that unspoken something felt unbearable.

—

The villa in St-Tropez was meant to be a haven—a sun-drenched escape filled with laughter, late-night swims, and the kind of memories that would last long after summer faded. But tonight, as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the only thing you could hear was them.

The rhythmic creak of the bed. The muffled sound of pleasure. Her voice—breathy, high-pitched, his name tumbling from her lips in a way that made your stomach twist painfully. You clenched your jaw, trying to will away the burning sensation creeping into your chest. It wasn’t your business. William Nylander was free to do whatever—or whoever—he wanted. You weren’t his girlfriend. You weren’t even that close.

And yet, you felt sick.

You squeezed your eyes shut, but the sounds only seemed to intensify, wrapping around you like a vice. You needed to get out of there. Grabbing a hoodie, you slipped out of your room and padded barefoot through the quiet villa, stepping onto the terrace. The salty night air filled your lungs as you tried to breathe through the ache sitting heavy in your chest.

As morning came, the villa was already buzzing by the time you made it to the kitchen, the smell of coffee and sunscreen mixing in the warm air. The soft hum of conversation filled the space, friends draped lazily over the patio furniture, some nursing hangovers, others already in their swimsuits, ready to head down to the beach. The clinking of spoons against ceramic mugs and the occasional pop of a champagne bottle set the rhythm of the slow, sun-drenched morning.

And then there was William.

He stood by the counter, pouring himself a coffee, looking as effortlessly put together as ever. His damp hair curled slightly at the ends, droplets of water still clinging to his tanned skin. He wore nothing but a pair of navy swim shorts, slung low on his hips, his toned frame on full display. Sunlight filtered through the large glass doors, casting a golden glow over him, highlighting every muscle, every contour. He looked up briefly, his blue eyes locking onto yours for a split second, before he turned away, taking a slow sip of his coffee as if nothing had happened last night. As if you hadn’t spent the night lying awake, listening to him with someone else.

You swallowed hard, fingers tightening around the handle of your mug as you forced a smile.

It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter.

But when you turned, catching your reflection in the glass of the patio door, you knew you weren’t fooling anyone.

—

It was no secret St-Tropez came alive at night, the streets pulsating with music and laughter spilling from open-air bars. The warm breeze carried the scent of salt and wine through the cobblestone alleys, and under the neon glow of the streetlights, the city felt like a fever dream.

You had let your friends drag you out, determined to lose yourself in the energy of the evening, to drown out the thoughts lingering in the back of your mind. And for a while, it was working—especially with the way the French waiter had been lavishing you with attention.

He was smooth, confident in that distinctly Parisian way, his dark eyes holding a glint of mischief as he leaned in closer. His fingers brushed yours as he refilled your glass, his lips curving into a smirk that sent warmth curling through you.

“You have a beautiful smile,” he murmured, his accent thick, seductive.

You felt the corners of your lips twitch, your body reacting to the attention, to the way his gaze lingered just a little too long. You weren’t naive—you knew exactly what this was. And maybe, just for tonight, you didn’t care.

And across the bar, William saw everything.

His gaze lingered on you, laughter still spilling from your lips as you leaned into the waiter, your hand lightly grazing his arm. You looked relaxed, glowing in the soft glow of the lights, your smile effortless. And William hated it.

He didn’t even know why it bothered him so much. Maybe it was the way your laughter rang out, too light, too carefree, as if he didn’t exist. Maybe it was how effortlessly you seemed to enjoy yourself, wrapped up in someone else’s attention. Maybe it was because, deep down, he knew he had no right to be irritated.

Not when he had just spent last night with someone else in his bed.

But even that hadn’t felt right. It had been a momentary escape, a way to silence the thoughts he wasn’t ready to face. Because the truth was, you weren’t just another fleeting distraction. You were different. Kind, effortlessly funny, and someone he found himself wanting to impress—something that wasn’t typical for him. He never concerned himself with how others perceived him, but with you, it was different. Around you, he found himself wanting to be better, to show you a side of him that he rarely revealed.

You weren’t close friends, yet he felt like he understood you in a way that went beyond surface-level interactions. He noticed the little things—the way your laughter could light up a room, how your dry wit always managed to catch him off guard. Even when you weren’t trying, you had this way of pulling him in, making him pay attention. But whatever existed between you had always remained unspoken, never crossing the threshold into something more. Instead, you existed in a delicate balance, stealing glances when no one was looking, skirting around something neither of you dared to acknowledge.

His jaw tightened as he forced himself to look away, shoving his hands into his pockets as he re-joined his group’s conversation. He wasn’t jealous—at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

“You should take him with you home,” Klara murmured in your ear, nudging you playfully.

You hesitated, your eyes flickering back toward William for a second.

He was still watching, but the second your gaze met his, he looked away, tilting his head back to down the rest of his drink in one go. A muscle in his jaw ticked, his fingers drumming against the glass as if he was resisting the urge to react.

Maybe Klara was right.

Maybe it was time William knew what it felt like to be on the other side.

—

The moment William stepped out of his room, he heard the unmistakable sound of another door clicking open down the hall. His head turned instinctively, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the French waiter emerging from your room, shoes in hand, his dark hair slightly dishevelled. He moved with a lazy confidence, completely unaware of the way William’s entire body tensed at the sight of him.

Something hot and unwelcome curled in William’s stomach—something dangerously close to jealousy, though he didn’t quite realise it. He clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly through his nose as the waiter glanced up, offering him a polite nod before strolling toward the front of the villa.

William barely nodded back, barely even breathed as his fingers twitched at his sides, his entire body wired with something he couldn’t name. The urge to stop the guy, to say something, was almost overwhelming. Instead, he forced himself to move, his steps stiff as he stalked past the hallway without a word.

But the bitter taste lingered. And for the first time in a long time, William felt something he didn’t quite recognise.

Regret.

He needed to get out, to take the dogs out for a walk.

The night had been good. Exactly what you had needed. The waiter had been charming, attentive, easy in a way that made it simple to forget everything else. And yet, as you lay there in your bed, staring at the ceiling of your villa bedroom, a hollow feeling settled deep in your chest.

It should’ve been enough. It was enough.

So why did it feel like something was still missing?

By the time you exited your room, you noticed you were awake before everyone else—or so you thought. So, you made your way to the kitchen to pour yourself a cup of coffee, the thought of a strong brew feeling like a necessity. The comforting aroma filled the air as you wrapped your fingers around the warm mug before stepping out onto the terrace and settling into one of the lounge chairs.

The air was crisp, a gentle warmth teasing the promise of the midday sun. A light breeze whispered through the palm trees, and you savoured the silence—the contrast from the loud music and chaotic laughter of last night’s events was almost jarring.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself sink into the moment, willing your mind to quiet. Just for a second, you let yourself disappear into the stillness, exhaling deeply.

That was until you heard footsteps from behind.

“God morgon,” William’s Swedish voice sounded.

Your body stiffened slightly at the sound of his voice. You forced yourself to take another slow sip of your coffee before turning your head to look at him. He stood there, hands in the pockets of his loose shorts, his white tank top clinging to his muscular chest. He looked relaxed, but there was something unreadable in his gaze as he watched you.

“God morgon,” you replied, keeping your voice even.

He moved closer, leaning against the railing of the terrace as his eyes flickered to the ocean in the distance. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet settling between you like an unspoken conversation.

“You’re up early,” he noted, finally breaking the silence.

You let out a soft hum, glancing at him over the rim of your mug. “Could say the same about you.”

A small smirk tugged at his lips. “Didn’t sleep much.”

You nodded, eyes shifting away as you ran your fingers along the rim of your mug. “Yeah, me neither.”

“Figured…” He exhaled, the sound barely audible over the gentle rustling of palm leaves. “So… did you have fun last night?”

You blinked, glancing at him again, studying the way he was watching you. There was something different about his expression—like he was searching for something in your answer.

“Yeah, I did,” you admitted.

William nodded, glancing away for a moment before slowly making his way to sit across from you on the other sofa. His movements were casual, but there was a slight tension in his shoulders, a hesitance in the way he settled in. He leaned back, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the pattern on the cushion beside him.

“Seemed like… you had… good company?” His voice was light, but there was something about the way he said it—like he was testing the waters, carefully gauging your reaction.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him. “He was nice. Sweet, actually.”

William gave a slow nod, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Right.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly. “Why do you ask?”

He hesitated for just a fraction of a second, then shrugged. “Just making conversation.”

You weren’t sure why, but something about his demeanour made you push. “Seemed like you’ve had… quite the company as well here?”

William’s jaw twitched slightly, but he kept his expression carefully neutral. He exhaled through his nose, his fingers stilling against the fabric of the cushion. “Yeah,” he admitted after a pause. “Something like that.”

You nodded, watching him closely. “Must’ve been a great time, then.”

He lifted his gaze back to yours, something flickering in his blue eyes—something unreadable. “I guess.”

You arched a brow. “You guess? I mean… sounded like a very great time to others.” The words carried more weight than you had intended, the sharp edge unmistakable. The way William’s eyes darkened at your remark, the sudden tension in his posture—it was clear you had struck a nerve.

His expression shifted, a flicker of something unspoken crossing his features. “What’s that supposed to mean?” His voice was lower now, more controlled. ��You were listening in on us?”

You sucked in a breath, heart pounding slightly at the way his intensity had shifted. “Well, no. But walls are pretty thin here… and she just wasn’t exactly… silent.”

William’s lips parted slightly, realisation dawning on him as the pieces fell into place. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fingers pressing harder against the cushion as if trying to ground himself.

“Right,” he finally muttered, glancing away for a brief moment. But the tension remained, thick and suffocating.

Before either of you could say another word, the sound of footsteps echoed from the kitchen. More friends were beginning to wake, filling the villa with life again. The conversation between you and William had no choice but to fade into the background, unresolved.

And throughout the day, you and William seemed to move in parallel, never quite crossing paths yet never straying too far. It wasn’t a conscious effort, but an unspoken agreement, a mutual instinct to avoid stepping into the grey area of words left unsaid.

Until evening arrived.

The sun had begun its descent, painting the sky in warm hues of amber and pink. The villa’s patio had become a gathering place, filled with the soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses. The salty breeze carried the remnants of the day’s heat, making the air feel both heavy and intoxicatingly serene.

You sat on one of the loungers, a drink in hand, watching the sky darken as the first stars flickered into view. Lost in thought, you barely noticed William until he settled into the seat beside you, his presence unmistakable even before he spoke.

For a moment, he said nothing. The quiet stretched, comfortable in its weight, before he finally broke it.

“Not a fan of the party?” he murmured, his voice softer now, lacking its usual teasing edge.

You turned to him, tilting your head slightly. “Just enjoying the view.”

A smirk ghosted across his lips, barely there but enough to be noticed. “Yeah. Me too.”

Something in the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, a quiet intensity laced in his tone. You swallowed, shifting your gaze back toward the horizon, though the moment lingered between you, heavy and unspoken.

The voices around you faded into background noise as the tension settled, thick and undeniable. William shifted beside you, his knee brushing against yours briefly before he pulled away just enough to make it seem unintentional.

In that very moment, you felt something, and you knew exactly what it was.

You were in love. With William fucking Nylander.

It wasn’t just some fleeting infatuation, some harmless crush that would disappear with time. No, this was deeper, something raw and undeniable, and you almost hated yourself for it.

The realisation hit you like a wave, knocking the air from your lungs, making the weight of the moment even heavier. But before you could fully process it, the tension between you was abruptly shattered by a voice—one that sent a cold jolt through your body.

“Hey babe!”

It was her. One of the girls from the group, from the other night.

She was practically glowing as she approached, her smile wide with excitement, her body language filled with ease—so comfortable in her place in his lap. William, ever the gentleman, greeted her in return. Not with the same enthusiasm, but enough to acknowledge her presence, enough for her to lean in and wrap her arms around him, pressing a light kiss against his cheek.

The nausea hit instantly.

Your stomach twisted, your heart lodged somewhere between your ribs and throat, making it impossible to breathe properly. You needed to get out of there. Now.

You barely registered the others joining the scene, the way the atmosphere around you shifted into something livelier, louder. It didn’t matter. None of it did. The only thing you knew was that you couldn’t sit there and watch this unfold any longer.

Klara offered an empathetic smile as she sat down next to you, her eyes flickering with silent understanding. She didn’t press, didn’t ask, just her presence alone offering quiet solidarity. But this time, there was no waiter to turn to, no easy escape route disguised as flirtation.

“Excuse me,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “I need to go vomit…”

You stood abruptly, ignoring the curious glances, the slight furrow in William’s brow as he watched you walk away. You didn’t wait for anyone to ask if you were okay. You just left, moving quickly, before the lump in your throat turned into something worse.

At first, you didn’t hear anything besides the noise inside your head as you made your way through the villa, away from the small, casual party. But suddenly, a hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks, and you were forced to turn around to face him—William.

“Hey…” he breathed out, catching his breath from following you. His grip was firm yet gentle, his blue eyes scanning your face with concern. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You avoided his gaze. You wanted to speak, to say the right thing, to brush it off like you always had. To remain cool and composed, to push the feelings back down where they belonged. But for the first time, you couldn’t. You just couldn’t pretend.

“No… Willy… I’m not okay,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You tried to keep the moment from turning dramatic, not wanting to act like some lovesick teenager in a rom-com. You took a shaky breath, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I’m… I’m sorry, I don’t think I can… I need some space.”

You tried to step away, but William didn’t let go. His fingers tightened slightly around your wrist, grounding you. “Y/N… what’s going on?”

William Nylander wasn’t the type of guy to wear his heart on his sleeve, but when it came to the people he cared about, truly cared about, he wouldn’t just stand by and let them walk away without understanding why.

“I—” you struggled, the words tangling on your tongue as you let out a light laugh. “I think I’m in love with you… and I know it’s completely nuts because I know you don’t… I mean, you like girls like her, and I’m nothing like that. I’m just me…”

The floodgates had opened, and no matter how much you wanted to keep everything bottled up, the words kept spilling out. You ran your hand through your hair. “Gosh, why is this so hard? I hate myself for this—I feel so silly. You’re just… being you. And seeing you with her just made me realise…” You took another breath, trying to steady yourself, but the emotions were too overwhelming. “I’m so happy for you, Willy, really. It’s just… I need to get over this, to get over you, before I can even figure out how to be around you again. It’s all just too much for me… I’m so sorry.”

You looked away, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from slipping down your cheeks. The last thing you wanted was to make a fool of yourself in front of him. But William didn’t say anything right away. He just stood there, his expression unreadable, his grip still firm on your wrist as if letting go would mean losing you entirely.

You let out a deep breath, shaking your head lightly as you tried to ground yourself. “Sorry… I’m… I’ll just…” You were about to step away, but you couldn’t. Something in the way he was holding onto you kept you rooted to the spot.

And then, before you could process it, William pulled you into him, his face coming closer to yours than it had ever been before. And then, his lips met yours.

Shocked, you froze for a brief second, your mind struggling to catch up with what was happening. But then, instinctively, you leaned into the kiss.

It was soft, gentle at first—like he was afraid to push too far. His lips moved against yours with an aching tenderness, his hand letting go of your wrist before sliding to your lower back, pulling you closer as if he never wanted to let go. Your fingers clutched at his t-shirt before trailing up to the nape of his neck, holding onto him like he was the only solid thing in a spinning world.

The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, as if you were both trying to make sense of this moment—this shift that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

It felt like time had stopped, stretching into something infinite, but when you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless. Your foreheads nearly touched, your eyes searching his for some kind of explanation, reassurance—anything to make sense of what just happened.

A quiet moment hung between you, heavy with unspoken words, until finally, a slow smile spread across William’s lips. “I don’t want you to get over me…”

You let out a soft chuckle, a breathy exhale of relief mixed with something deeper, something exhilarating. “Yeah? I don’t want to get over you either…”

And then, as if pulled by an invisible force, you both leaned in again, this kiss deeper, more desperate. The slow hesitation from before melted away, replaced by something undeniable, something raw. His hands slid along your jaw, fingers threading into your hair as he tilted your head, deepening the kiss with an intensity that made your stomach flip. You could feel the restrained urgency in the way his lips moved against yours, in the way his hands gripped your neck, as if trying to make up for all the time wasted in uncertainty.

The moment William kissed you, he knew.

He had been slow to realise his feelings for you—always skirting around them, always brushing off the weight of what he felt with a casual joke or a teasing smirk. But the moment he saw you with that French waiter, something inside him had shifted. The jealousy had been immediate, sharp, but it wasn’t until your confession that everything clicked into place.

No one else had ever mattered the way you did.

And in this moment, he didn’t need another second to be sure of what he wanted. You. Only you.

#my asks #wn88 imagine #william nylander imagine #william nylander x reader #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine

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madamechrissy · 11 months ago

Text

Dirty Little Secret

ꕥ Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, dirty talk, Toji calls reader 'doll, ma, slut (Toji and Doll just work lol) Age gap- reader is 21, Toji is 39. - This chapter-fingering, cunnilingus

ꕥ Word Count- 4,514

ꕥ Summary- Toji Fushiguro is your dad Shiu's best friend for years. You've known him most your life. You come home for spring break to relax, and who pops up at the fucking doorstep? Toji. He's nasty, annoying, perverted and... Sexy. Hot. Built. And makes you think, maybe your first time shouldn't be with some college boy? But with this buff dude who can tie a cherry stem with his tongue and a scar on his damn lip. You just gotta hope your dad doesn't find out.

Chapter 2 - Masterlist - Playlist

Chapter 3

You wake up later that day, stretching, having no concept of what time it was, hearing the sound of laughter from outside. You peek and realize it’s already the evening, and you zonked for a good three hours. You peek out the window and see Toji, Mei Mei and Shiu sitting with their legs in the pool, all out back with beers in their hands, and Toji manning the grill.

You frown as you realize you’ll have to put on a damn Hello Kitty bikini in front of Mei Mei too, who is so mature and gorgeous. You sling it on, sighing, at least Toji would be amused. Toji…

Your throat is sore, you realize, rubbing it, then it all hits you, Toji had made you cum so hard you literally fell asleep midday. And he’d cum all over you, fuck he’d licked it off you? Your cheeks get bright red as you look in the mirror, fixing the little ties of your bikini, then tensing when the door knocks.

“Yeah?” You manage, and your voice sounds a little hoarse.

“Can I come in, doll?” Toji purrs those words, and you sigh.

“Yeah, come in.” He opens your door, eyes feasting on you, licking his lower lip with the tip of his tongue. He’s shirtless and it makes it hard to focus on anything, with every muscle flexing as he shuts the door behind him.

“I do love that fuckin Hello Kitty bikini.” You snort in laughter then, and he grins, coming up behind you. “Pony tail.”

You hand him one, and a brush, trying to ignore how much you like it, when he starts to make a braid down the back of your hair. “You braid hair?”

“It’s not hard, doll.” He yanks your braid when he’s done, pulling your head back to look at him, ass arched and pressed on his hard thighs. “Ya look cute like this.”

“Do I?” He yanks a little more. “Ow!”

“Could use this y’know…” He bends you forward on the dresser, pulling your hips up, groaning. “Too short, lil thing never grew huh?”

“Shut up, Toji. Mmm…” He lifts one of your legs, obscenely, until it’s over your dresser, humming to himself. You look back at him in shock, and he looks like he’s calculating something.

“This angle, here. Hah.” He steps forward, pressing his cock against your entrance, hot already for him, and one hand grabs your braid, pulling it to make your back arch.

“Toji…” You cry out softly, he laughs a bit, hands on your back.

“Perfect ass, doll.” You flush, as he praises you, but then he smacks your ass, hard, and you tense in pain. “Wanna make it black and blue.”

You’re soaked, fuck.

“And how would that go, when I’m wearing bikinis? Hmm?” He sighs, rolling his eyes at you.

“When you’re not home I’ll get it that way.”

He eases off you, and you scoff, looking up at him when you turn. “What when I’m in college? How…”

“I’d come every weekend and rail the fuck outta you.” You flush more now, as vivid images pop in your head, and his arms are on either side, barring you against the wood of the dresser. You can taste his breath when he’s an inch from your lips, studying you. “Fill ya so full of cum no one would have a chance.”

“That’s… crazy talk… what…” You hear noise then, and he immediately opens the door, acting smooth and walking out, leaving you panting.

When you walk outside, the sun is setting, casting a warm orange glow. Once in the back patio, you see your dad and Mei Mei, their laughter ringing as the meat is sizzling on the grill. Mei Mei's eyes light up when she sees you, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She's a beautiful woman, with lush braids and curves, and confidence that could command a room.

She's wearing a bright blue bathing suit that shows off her insanely toned figure, you’re not sure why but Shiu, Toji and her work together and are all in movie star shape. You pout as you look at your little bit of squish on your hips, and then back at Mei, and you briefly wonder, had her and Toji…

What did it matter?

"Hey there, sleepyhead!" Your dad calls out, handing you a beer, you smile at him. "Toji's been keeping us entertained with his old college stories. He says you took a nap?"

You take the beer, the cool condensation a relief against your feverish skin, and Toji winks at you from the grill, and you watch how his muscles flex as he flips the burgers. Mei comes up to you, arms spread, grinning as she takes in how much you’ve changed.

“Such a beauty! Can I have a hug, love?” You nod, letting her hug you, you’re basically against her tits since she’s so tall, and you hear Shiu and Toji laugh.

“Why didn’t I get that kind of greeting?” Shiu mutters, and Mei Mei smacks him playfully then.

“Having some fun this break, kiddo?” She asks you, and fuck does everyone just call you kiddo? You were short wearing Hello Kitty but…

But you also just deepthroated Toji’s cock.

You sip the beer nervously, how could you say, yes, been so great, having your pussy ate by this asshole over here.

“It’s been good, just relaxing!”

“Kiddo sleeps a lot. The sun must be kicking her butt.” Shiu says, wrapping an arm around Mei’s shoulders casually.

“She’s still growin, look how short the kid is.” Toji teases, and you glare, sticking your tongue out, and he does it back. Mei laughs, the sound so sophisticated, covering her mouth.

“Not much has changed then, huh?”

Nothing but now Toji is looking at you like he’s gonna eat you.

Mei ends up in the pool soon with Shiu, and Toji calls you over to the grill. “What ya need old man?”

“That ass jiggles real nice, doll.” He murmurs, and you flush, looking at him with your mouth open.

“Shush!” You hush him, looking behind you. “Want us caught?”

“Makes it hotter to ya doll, doesn’t it?” You glare, shaking your head, then reaching for a beer, realizing the cooler is empty.

“Shit, let me go get some more from inside.” You head into the kitchen, but Toji fucking follows you. You bend down to reach the beers on the bottom, and you feel it, his hands gripping your ass, you stand quickly, and he’s even hungrier looking.

“Toji…” He’s backing you up, shutting the fridge door then, and before you know it, he’s bending you over the kitchen counter, facing you towards the little window to the patio, his mouth on your ear.

“Look, doll, they’re having so much fun.” His arms bar you, as you feel his cock, hard and hot on your back, and he’s nipping your ear with sharp teeth. “I can feel ya, so fucking hot. Ya want me, say it doll.”

“Fuck you, Toji.” You whine out the words, arching your ass up, pressing harder on him and making him inhaled, gripping you.

“Did I not shut that mouth up good enough?” He’s menacing, how he speaks, he’s rough, how he grabs on your thighs, pressed together, shoving his hand between them to cup you. You muffle a cry, as his fingers find you soaking wet against your bikini bottom. “Bet she wants me, should I ask her?”

“I… mmm…” He’s running his tongue along your neck, biting, licking, then sucking, and you whimper, not knowing what to do, but your body responds to his touch, arching into him.

He pushes your bikini bottom aside, exposing your bare pussy to the cool kitchen air, you gasp at the sensation. “I’ll have a little talk with her, she likes me.”

“What do you… ah… fuck!” He’s bent down on his knees behind you now, as you’re still facing that window, spreading your lips apart and your soaking wet pussy is now on full display. “Toji… you can’t…

“She says she wants me to.” He groans out the words, and you feel his breath hot on your skin as he leans in, his tongue sliding over your slit, and you moan, the sound echoing through the kitchen. “Keep that mouth shut, doll.”

You're trembling, trying not to be too loud, as he laps at your pussy like a starving man, groaning as he pulls your ass closer, so he can lick every fucking inch of you, sliding his tongue in then down to your clit, already sensitive. You bite down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming as he licks and nibbles it, sucking it in his mouth and making you even wetter.

You can’t think, or focus, as pleasure pulses through your body, as his huge hands are gripping your thighs, shoving them further apart, sucking on that clit again and you’re fucking losing it.

“Shit, shit, shit!” You whisper the curse words, and your eyes flutter shut, as you feel his stubble scraping against the lips of your pussy. The sounds of his mouth on you are so obscene, it only makes it even hotter, how much he just wants you.

“Cum f’me now, doll.” He whispers, nipping your thigh, you push your ass out for more, nodding, eagerly, to his clear delight. “Good girl.”

He’s down there again, lapping you up, and you jerk, your orgasm building. He's not holding back, and it's all you can do to keep your knees from buckling, clinging to the granite counter, struggling not to fall.

Your addled mind can’t believe this is happening. Toji, your dad’s best friend, is going down on you, and you can’t even say no. But do you want to?

Yeah, you want it.

The way he’s licking you, it feels so good, so wrong, but so right.

And when you finally feel it, as he’s brought you so close so quick, devouring your little pussy, you fall apart and cum all over his face. He’s moaning, licking you through your orgasm, slamming your hand on your mouth to muffle your scream, trying to keep quiet as your body convulses.

“So fuckin good, doll.” He whispers, and just his breath hitting you overstimulates you, and you wiggle, twitching from the aftershocks, cunt pulsing around nothing, pushing more wetness down your thighs. He kisses you on your pussy, sloppy. “I think she loves me, doll.”

“I… fuck. Toji…” He stands back up, turning you towards him, and you see yourself all over his face. His eyes go to the window, then back on you, pulling you aside a bit, further in the kitchen.

“Clean me up, doll. It’s all your mess.” You flush, wiping his face off, covered in your slick, but he stops you, pulling you against his hard chest.

“Fuck.” You murmur, he grins.

“Such a bad mouth for such a pretty lil girl. Kiss me, doll. Lick all that sweet cum off me.” You do so, fervently, and he moans, wrapping you in his big, stupidly strong arms, oddly gentle and infuriating you.

You lick him clean, tasting yourself all over his lips, his tongue, sucking on it, coming closer against him. He groans into your lips, yanking you so close you can’t breather, his bare chest against your tits, his hands back on your ass, shoving you flush against him.

“I love kissing you, I- Fuck!” You let it slip as you pull back, and he pauses at that, looking down at you for a moment, his dark hair falling over his brows, green eyes drinking you in. “Sorry.”

“Sorry for what, doll?” He rubs a calloused thumb on your lower lip. “Ya saying Imma good kisser huh?”

You flush, for some reason more embarrassed by this than by him having his face buried in your pussy. You look down, lashes fluttering, but he tilts your chin back up, and for a moment? You feel something, and not just your pussy soaked and throbbing, not just that tightness in your tummy.

Shit.

Do you like him?

No way, he’s just hot.

Right?

“You’re a good kisser, Toji.” You manage to say, and he grins, happy with the praise. “And you’re amazing at eating pussy.”

“Fuck yeah I am, doll.” He winks, and you giggle, the moment less tense, letting you shove back these stupid, weird thoughts. Of how comfy you are in his arms. “Kinda don’t wanna let ya go.”

“We have to.” You didn’t want to either, you shove off him a bit, but he pulls you back. “Toji!”

“One more kiss, doll. Didn’t get it all, you cum so much.” You roll your eyes, pecking his lips one more time, and you turn, but as you do, the door opens and closes, and you quickly pretend to check the fridge, as Toji does too, bumping heads.

“Ow shit Toji!”

“Ow shit brat!”

Mei is there, laughing at you both, then your dad follows, joining in as you two rub your bonked heads, glaring at each other.

“We came to get more beer then Toji pissed me off.” You say smoothly, Toji shoves you out of the way, grabbing the beers up.

“Nah just said you’re too weak, kiddo.” You cross your arms, huffing.

“Come on, you crazy kids.” Shiu helps Toji, and you trail behind, so overheated you can’t think. Mei looks at you, pursing her lips a bit, then smiling.

“Huh.”

Your eyes widen. “Huh what!?”

“Toji is pretty hot, in a brutish kind of way, huh?” You flush, realizing she is teasing you. “Got a little crush?”

“No way. Toji? He’s…” You walk back towards the patio doors, sighing a bit as you look at him, the man that had just eaten you out, the one you want so much more from, just shirtless in the pool. “He is kinda hot.”

“Knew it!” She snorts in laughter, leading you back out, and you struggle to not just stare at him openly, to keep yourself together.

As the night wears on, you all get inside the house now, and are playing cards, the alcohol has hit your mind a bit, and you’re so exhausted from… cumming so much, honestly. That you decide to call it a night, hugging Mei then, and then your dad, who kisses your head.

“Night, kiddo. See you in the morning!” Shiu says, you smile, wave, and ignore Toji all together, heading to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face.

When you step out, he’s there.

“Stalker, ugh!” You whisper angrily, shoving him, but he doesn’t move, of course he doesn’t, he’s Toji.

“Though ya wanted this dick inside you tonight, hmm?” You bite your lower lip, position relaxing, and he’s looming over you in the dim hallway.

“I’m so sleepy.” You murmur, and he snorts, bending low, kissing down your jawline then, little nibbles, stubble scratching roughly on delicate skin. You struggle not to moan, at how close he is, how good he feels.

“Then let me just make you cum one more time, doll. Wanna have you all over my hands.” You whimper, struggling to stay quiet, as your dad and Mei are downstairs, and his hand slides between your thighs, finding your sore cunt again.

“Toji it’s too much. Hurts.” You whisper, but you’re pulling him down to you, hands on his big shoulders, lips just a breath away.

“Be a good girl and cum one more time for Daddy.” He smashes his lips on yours, sliding your pajama shorts to the side, and sinking two fingers in, knuckle deep. You gasp, and he drinks your cries, trying to keep silent.

“Daddy…” You whisper back, and he lets out a quiet moan, lifting one of your legs up, wrapping it around his narrow hip, fucking you with his fingers now, hitting that spongy little spot and pressing till you can’t even see. “Ngh!”

“Shush, doll. Shush.” He’s watching you now, as he angles his arm, leaning down more, pressing up and hitting it again, again, your walls tightening around him. “That’s it, that’s a good girl. Cum on daddy’s fingers baby.”

“F-fuckkk…” You muffle the words with your own hands, but he yanks them down, glaring at you.

“Wanna see that pretty little face.” You bite your lip so hard it’s about to bleed, eyes rolling back involuntarily as he hits that spot again and again, until you’re gushing around him, so slippery.

“C-cumming!” You suck in a breath, and then you hear it.

“Toji, come on down, I’m gonna win!” Shiu's voice shouts, and you tense, especially when Toji doesn’t stop, white teeth glinting in the dark hall.

“Be right there, kiddo needed some water. She was a little dehydrated from all the…” He’s hitting it, over and over, and faster and harder, and you grit your teeth as he brings you closer. “Sun.”

“Ah, thanks Toji. Poor thing doesn’t get out enough at school. Hey Mei…” He goes to talking to Mei, and now he’s got you right there, and your eyes struggle to focus, it’s all just fucking Toji now.

“You like it, don’t ya, my lil slut?” You nod, you can’t help it, you can’t fathom a lie or a word, your brain is short circuiting, legs wobbling.

“Gonna fall.” You manage to say, and he wraps an arm around you waist, shoving in so deep then, you almost scream, just barely able to slam a hand on your mouth to muffle it.

“That’s it, doll. Cum for daddy, be a good girl.” He cooes, and you do, you cum all over his thick fingers, gushing everywhere, and when he pulls them out, sucking on them like they’re the yummiest things ever, you almost faint. “Such a good little slut f’me, aren’t you?”

You weakly nod, and he fixes your shorts, still holding your weak body up, you are nearly falling on him, body just jello now.

“Askes ya a question, girl.” He whispers, and you blink, eyelids heavy, head lolling to the side, your entire body aches from him.

“A good slut for you. Daddy.” You quietly say the words in a daze, and then he’s picking you up like you are some little doll, taking you to your room. “Mmm…”

“Let daddy take care of ya.” He eases you in the bed, and you snuggle as he puts the blankets on you. He’s being so sweet that it’s… weird.

“Thank you, Toji. S’sleepy.” He leans over, kissing your lips, and you taste yourself, along with whiskey he’d been sipping. You could drink him forever.

“Rest up, doll, gonna finally break that lil pussy tomorrow.” You tense, eyes wide on him, and he’s just grinning, licking his lips and that scar. “Aw, ya scared doll? Scared ya can’t take all this dick?”

“You are so annoying. Go… goway… Toji. Sleepy.” He laughs, stroking your hair, gentle with his actions and filthy with his words.

“Gonna dream of that pussy on me.” You try to glare, but your eyelids won’t allow you anymore, then he’s kissing your cheek, and it’s once again oddly sweet. “Night, doll.”

He walks out, and you’re in and out of consciousness, your pussy hurts so damn bad, your throat hurts, shit… your body hurts.

Your mind hurts most of all.

Because, as you doze off, you can’t wait for it.

To be his little slut.

What’d he do to you!?

Chapter 4

Chapter on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57496135/chapters/146476885#workskin

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #fanfic #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x you #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x y/n #toji x oc #smut #anime and manga #fushiguro toji x reader

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inkmonster21 · 7 months ago

Text

Short n’ Sweet💋

Hugh Jackman x Fem!Sister!Reynolds!Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Part 13

Series Masterlist

Come Ride On Me, I Mean, Camaraderie

💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋

After what felt like an eternity, filming finally wrapped up, and Hugh prepared to return from the UK. The long-awaited return brought a sense of relief and anticipation, as he looked forward to reuniting with his loved ones and familiar surroundings.

You patiently waited in the car, parked near the arrival area of the airport. The anticipation built as you anxiously counted down the minutes until Hugh's arrival. The reunion was longed for, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness as you waited to see him once again.

Hugh emerges from the front doors, and before he can even react, you jump out of the car and sprint towards him with a big smile. In a heartbeat, you throw yourself into his arms, giggling with excitement and happiness. Hugh's surprise quickly turns into a warm embrace as he catches you in mid-air, lifting you for a moment before setting you back down on the ground.

Ryan, standing nearby, couldn't help but roll his eyes at the affectionate reunion unfolding before him. With a sarcastic tone, he muttered, "Yeah, sure, not like your brother is right here." Ryan's playful comment expressed a mix of amusement and mild annoyance, highlighting the subtle competitive dynamic between siblings.

Hugh chuckled at Ryan's remark, his smile affectionate yet teasing. He then replied, "Well, Ryan, you better turn away, mate." The words carried a hint of humor, warning his friend about what was going to come next.

Hugh leaned in with a look of affection in his eyes and planted a soft, tender kiss on your lips. The kiss expressed his affection and love for you, a silent gesture conveying his happiness at being reunited after a long time apart. The airport surroundings faded into the background as you both shared the intimate moment.

The much-anticipated album release was fast approaching, and you found yourself in a whirlwind of promotional activities. There was still a mountain of promotional material to film, share, and create, all leading up to the big day. The pressure was on, and your schedule was filled with various interviews, photoshoots, and social media content to complete.

Luckily, Hugh was able to tag along for all the promotional activities, his presence and support providing you with a sense of comfort and reassurance. Having him by your side made the hectic preparations more enjoyable and less overwhelming.

At the grand house where the album release party was scheduled to take place, you found yourself filming a hilarious video intended to promote the event. Amidst the hustle and bustle of the preparations, you and Hugh found time to create a lighthearted and entertaining video, capturing the energy and excitement of the upcoming party.

Hugh held your phone, a mischievous grin on his face as he began his monologue. "Now, to properly host an album release party, you need a few things," he stated, walking through the spacious home.

Hugh walks into the living room, phone in hand, and finds you sitting on the couch applying some lipstick in a small handheld pocket mirror. He clears his throat to gain your attention, and as you look up at the camera, he prompts you with a friendly greeting. "First, you need the host," he says with a smile. You look up and give a charming smile, acknowledging the camera, "Oh, hey! I’m (y/n) Reynolds, and we’re going to show you how to host the most amazing listening party experience."

You descend the grand staircase, leading to the pool and patio bar area. With a sassy wink, you offer some advice. "Second, keep your guest list short and sweet. Hot people only." As you pass by Hugh filming, you punctuate the statement with a playful wink.

In the kitchen, you reach into the oven and pull out the prop ice cream adorned with whipped cream and a cherry. With a charming smile, you explain, "Number three, prepare a sweet treat for your guests." You offer Hugh the cherry, and he quickly pops it into his mouth whilst filming. He then playfully adds, "Because it's called Short n' Sweet." You both share a laugh at his remark, the playful banter setting a lighthearted tone for the promotion video.

You perch yourself on the luxurious balcony, framed by the spectacular backdrop of the setting sun. With a confident smirk, you chime in, "Four. Make sure you have an amazing view." Hugh pans the camera to capture the serene sunset, but you quickly chime in, interjecting with a playful retort. "Um, no. I'm the fucking view. The fuck?" Your words are dripping with sass and humor, adding a touch of attitude for the video.

Hugh stands behind the bar, expertly shaking up a mixed drink in the shaker. You perch on a barstool, adding your own two cents for the fifth item on the list. "Five. Make a special drink for your guests to keep them up all night." Hugh then pours the drink into a glass and passes it to you. As you lift it with a smile, you feign annoyance and playfully drop your smile before saying, "That's that me... Do I really have to say it again?" Your words carry an air of mock resignation, adding another layer of humor.

You watch the final cut of the promotional video, laughing at the lighthearted and playful moments captured. As Megan prepares to share it on TikTok, you can't help but anticipate the response from your fans. You can envision them enjoying the contents, appreciating the humorous banter and the infectious energy shared by both you and Hugh.

The video quickly spreads across TikTok, and as anticipated, your fans devour the content, gushing and giggling at the funny clips and banter between you and Hugh. Comments pour in, filled with praise and amusement.

The much-anticipated night of the album release party had finally arrived, and you were brimming with excitement. The energy in the air was palpable, a mix of anticipation and thrill. The party was a chance to not only celebrate the release of your album but also to connect with your friends and create memorable moments.

The party was in full swing, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement as the clock ticked closer to 12 AM. The anticipation in the air was undeniable, and you could feel the energy building with every passing minute. The countdown to the album release was near, and the room seemed to hum with a mix of anticipation and anxiety for the moment the album would drop for the world to hear.

You climbed up onto the small stage, and as your presence became visible to all your friends and acquaintances, their cheers filled the room. Your heart raced with a mix of excitement and nerves as you looked out at the sea of familiar faces, their support and applause propelling you forward.

You stepped onto the stage, taking in the enthusiastic applause from your friends and acquaintances. A genuine smile spread across your face as you spoke, "Wow, I'm seriously speechless." Your voice carried a hint of disbelief and appreciation as you tried to find the right words to express your gratitude and excitement for the occasion.

You paused for a moment, looking out at the crowd of familiar faces. "I just wanted to say a little thank you to all of you for coming," you began, your voice filled with sincere gratitude. "Thank you to my team for helping me with this album. Thank you Ryan for always supporting me," you said, glancing at Ryan with a warm smile. As your gaze shifted to Hugh, a sly smirk tugged at your lips. "And thank you Hugh for the many, many nights of inspiration," you finished with a knowing glimmer in your eye.

Your words were met with laughter and cheers from the crowd, their reaction a testament to the playful banter they had come to expect from you and a sign of their enjoyment of the moment. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you basked in the energy of the room, the laughter and applause fueling your excitement for the evening ahead.

Hugh, standing nearby, raised his glass with a playful wink in response to your words. The gesture was subtle yet full of meaning, a silent message of support and appreciation. The glimmer in his eyes spoke volumes, a reflection of the admiration and connection shared between you both, even amidst the crowd and celebration.

As the clock struck 12, the first song of your album started to play. The upbeat and catchy tune filled the air, its infectious energy seeping into the hearts of the crowd. Everyone soon found themselves dancing and having a blast, the rhythmic beats and captivating lyrics igniting a dance party that filled the space with pure joy and celebration.

As you danced with Hugh, the current song playing was a love letter to him. The lyrics spoke of love, admiration, and the special bond you shared. You intertwined your movements with his, your eyes locked on each other as you swayed to the melody, expressing the depth of your feelings through dance. The song served as a soundtrack to your connection, a tangible representation of the love that filled both your hearts.

As the song played, the lyrics echoed in Hugh’s mind like a sweet melody. The words "Who’s the cute boy in the white jacket with the thick accent?" played on repeat, a clear reference to himself. Hugh couldn’t help but smile at the mention, feeling a mix of warmth and a hint of flattery at being immortalized in your music.

Hugh felt his hands instinctively tighten around your waist as the next song started playing. The lyrics were overtly explicit and unabashedly confident, fueling a mix of excitement and desire. "One of me is cute but two though? Give it to me baby" echoed through the room, the seductive words creating an intimate and charged atmosphere. Hugh couldn’t help but wonder what inspired such a bold and alluring track, his fingers digging into your waist as if trying to possess you in that very moment.

"Let's get out of here," he whispered in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. His hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and you could feel the hardness of his erection against your thigh. "Just for a little while. I want you all to myself."

You didn't need any more convincing. The anticipation of being alone with Hugh, away from prying eyes, made your heart race. With a quick nod, you excused yourself from your guests, taking Hugh's hand and leading him through the corridors.

The luxurious home offered countless private spaces, but Hugh had a destination in mind. He guided you to a secluded study, its walls lined with rich mahogany bookshelves. Closing the door behind you, he pressed you against it, his strong body trapping you in a sensual embrace.

"I've been waiting all night to do this," he growled, his voice hoarse with desire. His lips claimed yours in a hungry kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he tasted the sweetness of your mouth. You moaned into his kiss, your hands gripping his broad shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles.

Hugh's hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve. He cupped your breasts through your dress, his thumbs teasing your nipples to hardness. You arched into his touch, craving more. His fingers deftly undid the zipper of your dress, letting it slide to the floor, leaving you standing in nothing but your lacy black lingerie.

"You're stunning," he murmured, his eyes raking over your exposed body. He traced the lace of your bra with his fingertips, making you shiver as he teased the sensitive skin beneath. "I love seeing you like this, all mine."

You reached for his belt, eager to return the favor. With practiced ease, you unbuckled it, your fingers brushing against the bulge in his pants. He was hard and ready, his cock straining against the fabric. You knelt before him, the hardwood floor cool against your knees, and took his length into your hands.

Hugh's breath caught as you stroked him slowly, your fingers exploring the length and girth of his shaft.

You teased the tip with your thumb, spreading the pre-cum glistening there, before taking him into your mouth. His taste exploded on your tongue, and you savored the feel of his cock sliding between your lips.

He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, guiding your head as you took him deeper. You reveled in the power you held over him, the way he surrendered to your touch. His hips moved in a gentle rhythm, fucking your mouth as you sucked and licked, bringing him closer to the edge.

"I want to feel you," he panted, pulling away from your lips. He lifted you to your feet, his hands sliding down to cup your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh. "I need to be inside you."

You were more than willing. You climbed onto the study desk, the smooth wood cool against your bare skin. Hugh stood between your legs, his eyes dark with lust as he admired your open invitation. He hooked your thighs over his strong arms, positioning himself at your entrance.

With one smooth thrust, he filled you, his thick cock stretching you deliciously. You gasped at the sensation, your head falling back as pleasure radiated from your core. Hugh's hips moved in a slow, torturous rhythm, each stroke hitting your sweet spot, making you moan and beg for more.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he grunted, his breath hot against your neck. He leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the desk, giving him leverage to pound into you with increasing force. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your cries of pleasure.

You matched his rhythm, meeting each thrust with a hungry grind of your hips. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, leaving marks on his skin as you clung to him. The friction between your bodies built, sending sparks of pleasure through your veins.

Hugh's eyes locked with yours, his gaze intense as he drove into you. "I love watching you come undone," he growled. "Hearing you scream my name."

His words sent a shockwave of desire through you. You were close, so close, and his relentless pounding pushed you further towards the edge. Your orgasm built, a coiled spring ready to snap. "Hugh!" you cried out, your voice hoarse from pleasure. "I'm going to—"

Just as you were about to climax, he pulled out, his cock glistening with your juices. You whimpered in protest, craving release. Hugh's eyes sparkled with mischief as he rounded the desk and sat in the chair. He waves you over with his fingers, “Come ride on me.”

You smirked with smudged lips and desire-filled eyes. You didn’t waste time crawling on top of Hugh, thighs secured on either side of him. His members dipped in your wetness.

You grabbed his shoulder and sat down on him. As he entered you again, his hands gripped your hips as he thrusts up, meeting your rhythm. The change in angle sent a new wave of pleasure through your body.

You moaned, your head tossed back, your body trembling with the force of his thrusts as he met yours. Hugh's fingers found your clit, rubbing it in circles as he fucked you, pushing you closer to the brink.

"Come for me, baby," he urged, his voice a rough whisper in your ear. "Let me feel that tight pussy milking my cock." His dirty words were the final push you needed. Your orgasm exploded, rippling through your body like an electric current. You cried out, your muscles clenching around his shaft, milking him as he continued to thrust. Hugh groaned, his own release building as he felt the walls of your pussy pulsating around him.

With a final, powerful thrust, he emptied himself inside you, his hot cum filling your hole. You could feel his pulse as he came, his cock twitching within you. He collapsed in the seat, hands still on your hips, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

You sat there, sated and exhausted, your bodies still joined, the evidence of your passion dripping down your thighs. The explicit lyrics of your song continued to play in the background, a fitting soundtrack to the raw, primal acts you had just committed.

💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋

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#hugh jackman smut #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman fic #hugh jackman #Hugh Jackman series #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x reader #deadpool and wolverine

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pradapussy · 1 month ago

Text

Don’t Hide Behind Your Rage

part 2

tags: dead dove do not eat , bloodplay , sub!remmick , dom!reader , smut , drug use maybe , lmk if im missing any.

A/N: Sorry for the delay, and also for possibly double posting. I haven’t written in a very long time, and I worry I sound corny and overindulgent. But WHO GAF!! My horoscope says i should treat myself more anyway.

SUMMARY:

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The walk to your cottage is brief. You follow a narrow path through the woods, its trodden soil barely visible beneath the intense moonlight. You know every turn, every root, but Remmick still clings to you. His hands settle on your hips, guiding you as if you might get lost. You scoff, but he mistakes it for a sigh—and lets his hands wander, slow and possessive.

"Remmick, slow down. It’s too dark, and you’re going too fast." You let a whine slip into your voice.

He pulls you closer. "Don’t worry, duck, I got you."

Duck. The vowel drags—rounder than it should be. Almost an o. It snags in your mind like a thread pulling loose. His accent has been slipping all evening, somewhere between a Southern drawl and something that lilts. British, maybe?

He’s more of a talker than you initially thought. At the bar, he seemed to keep to himself, nursing a barely touched drink and observing the other patrons like a vulture eyeing a carcass. When he joined you on the patio, he offered nothing more than pleasantries and a light for your cigarette. Now he’s laying it on thick with compliments and charming stories. His hands finding unholy places doesn’t help your concentration. You’d be smitten if your mind weren’t clouded by a desire for violence.

That desire makes you grabby, too. You grope his built bicep and plant kisses all over his hands and face, avoiding those needy lips. You know that pair of lips is a death sentence.

The sounds of two lovers kissing down a trail are interrupted by a question. "Do you always walk girls home you barely know? Or am I special?"

"So special," he murmurs. Long fingers trace up your neck, the prickle of talons extending from their beds sending anticipation through your body.

The outline of your cabin begins to peek through the trees. You refocus. "So, Remmick... where are you from?"

Your question gives him pause. His body tenses, punctuating the moment. He breathes into your neck, hot and wet. Is he drooling?

"Oh, you know, around?" The end of the statement curls upward like a question.

"That’s not an answer," you say flatly, pulling away. His hands reach after your body, the heat you gave him dissipating like he's cold-blooded. "You’ve got all these stories about traveling the country, yet you don’t look like you’ve aged a day."

The cabin draws closer. The packed path turns loose, softer, blending with the forest floor.

"I’m blushing," he says with mock modesty. "I’m from everywhere nowadays. My home is the earth, and I am tasked to wander it for all time."

His arms lift wide, as if praising some god you don't recognize. The delivery unnerves you, like the ramblings of a zealot. You walk backward, almost at your cottage, taking his hands.

"Well, take a break from wandering tonight. I’m sure my place has room for both of us." The shakiness in your voice is barely masked by flirtation. Whether he notices or not is unclear. Your stiff shoulders shift awkwardly as he spins you, pulling you close. It’s almost romantic. Bodies pressed together in an impromptu dance. You allow yourself to swoon, just a little.

"That’s kind of you." You shuffle up to your porch, arms tangled together, Remmick in tow, lips brushing the nape of your neck. His chest siphons the warmth radiating from your skin. You spin away from him as you unlock your door, movements graceful and calculated. You step squarely into your cottage.

His face tightens as he stops at the threshold.

Your faces are dangerously close as he leans over, careful not to cross inside. "Darlin’, what gives?" He smirks. A small vein under his eye twitches.

"What do you mean, Remmick?" you ask, your voice sweet, teasing. "Something you need?" You pull off your coat, letting the cool air hit your neck. You crane it just slightly as you watch the smile drop from his face.

"Well, Con," he says, the name just as artificial on his tongue as it feels to you. "It’d be impolite to barge into a lady’s home."

"What a gentleman." Your sarcasm bounces off him. He peers past you. The cabin is tidy, well-furnished, but the scent of dust lingers. A tweed couch and a mounted bobcat head clash with your otherwise bookish and naive presentation. He cocks a brow.

"Do a lot of hunting?" he asks.

You close the door slightly, left arm hidden behind it as you lean on the frame. "Sometimes. But that," you nod to the taxidermy, "That was all my uncle. I just keep the place warm in the off-season."

A corner of his mouth quirks up. The silence stretches. "It’s October," he says slowly. His accent has shifted entirely. "Hunting season’s well underway."

His vowels are rounder, longer now. His r's linger like echoes. And his eyes are alight with fascination. "Where’s your uncle now?"

Damn.

He reaches for you. His hand stops just short of your face, once manicured digits now sharper and more dangerous. "I’d like to meet the man of the house before I come in."

"How gentlemanly. Guys like you are rare nowadays." You lean out from the doorframe, right hand bunching his collar. "You’re not from around here, are you?"

"You got me," he says, head dipping down to kiss your arm. "But I get the feeling you’re not local either."

His teeth graze your skin, leaving a trail of wet, hungry kisses. He stops just where your arm meets the doorframe. Burning red eyes meet yours, eggshell fangs just brushing the line of threat.

"We’ve got each other figured out," you muse, cupping his drooling face. "Why don’t you come in?"

SLAM.

Bodies tumble into the abandoned cottage and the door slams shut.The quiet of the cabin is disrupted by a ringing click. Except, to Remmick’s surprise, it's your form straddling his. His chest is pressed into the floor as your shin depresses his upper back. Claws fight to find flesh to tear into, but are given no purchase, bound behind him. A pair of silk wrapped manacles glints in the light of the moon. You’ve caught yourself a vampire.

“Naughty boy, you could have cut me up.” Your own voice has changed. In fact, you don’t seem like the shy and flighty Connie that Remmick has been toying with all night. Your voice is steadier now, strong, sultry, hateful.

You rise, and on your way up you grab the back of his shirt and throw him back against the wall. He sits on the floor, looking at you as the door mysteriously slams shut.

“What are you?” He asks, eyes half-lidded reeling from the impact.

The feeling of dark thick blood spatters on his lips as you bleed onto him. A bronze dagger bites into your palm. It stings like a kiss.

“Lots of things, lover. A whore, a murderer, a poacher…” Remmick’s pupils obscure his irises, his vision going blurry as your blood slides down his throat. “A witch.” Your eyes, distinctly human, glint with dark intentions. Whispered words fill his head, the language hard to decipher. Greek? Latin? Something farther away? All he knows is that it’s casting a spell. He’s bound, struggling, and most importantly, he’s hard.

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

A/N: I pinkie prommie that part 3 will be smutty and be up soon. There will be some dubcon elements and drug use this is a dead dove fic, at least to me lol.

#remmick x reader #sinners fanfiction #sinners x reader #remmick #remmick fanfic #remmick x you

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