Tumgik
#matthew tkachuk imagines
sc0tters · 4 months
Text
Baby Fever | Matthew Tkachuk
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: on your wedding day Matthew thought he’d get you to himself, but seeing you with his cousins gives him an idea he just had to see through.
kinkmas: day four (breeding)
warnings: sexual themes, p in v, nipple play? swearing.
word count: 2.18k
authors note: can we believe that this is my first wedding fic? sorry it took so long but I think we got to a good place! Matthew is a man I haven’t written for a lot but I love it when I do get to. If you want to read more from kinkmas you can find the masterlist here!
Tumblr media
You knew you had always wanted a winter wedding.
The cold had been your favourite kind of weather as it meant you could sit at a fireplace with a blanket over your lap. Now living in Florida you weren’t promised your white wedding, but Matthew found a cabin that you two had fallen in love with. After being together for five years and countless jokes from his family as they would ask how Matthew got you locked down and even moving to a different country for him.
A mere six years ago you started off as his neighbour who knocked on his door early one Saturday morning as you needed eggs to fulfill your pancake recipe. In return for those eggs he got himself a free breakfast that morning and your number after weeks for trying to muster up the courage to talk to you.
Yes you, the girl set on pursuing her dreams was the one who made Matthew a mess.
Now you were sat a few seats across from him as his younger cousins giggled recounting the story of how Matthew was in love with you “hey now let’s not embarrass me to my wife.” Matthew shook his head as his hand squeezed your shoulder “can we talk for a bit?” He asked motioning to you to follow him “I’ll be back.” You offered the girls as you nodded “didn’t know I’d be chasing my wife on my wedding day.” The hockey player mumbled as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your head.
It made you smile “what can I say I’m a hot commodity today.” You teased as you two began to head outside where it was quiet “are you okay?” You furrowed your eyebrows sensing that something was on his mind “can’t get over how fucking gorgeous my wife is.” His confession made you scoff as your cheeks turned red “Matty.” You warned as his hands went dangerously close to your ass.
He laughed as he leaned down to kiss your lips “let’s go to the room.” Matthew proposed as you were all staying at the hotel tonight.
But of course you stood there like the good wife that you were as you shook your head “what about our guests?” You whisper yelled as his hand pressed against your lower back pushing you in the direction of the elevator “if anyone asks you can tell them I wasn’t feeling well.” He rolled his eyes pressing the button that illuminated your floor number as he waited for the elevator doors to shut before you dared to lay a hand on your now husband.
However Matthew didn’t feel the same way as you as he turned to you with a grin placing his hands on either side of your face as he leaned down to kiss you “fuck you’re so pretty.”He groaned swiping his tongue across your lower lip as you moaned into his kiss.
You two remained like that as the boy peppered kisses along your jaw and neck “I need to open the door Matt.” You coughed as you struggled to grab the keycard from his pocket.
Matthew opted to behave for a few minutes offering you your focus as you huffed opening the door as you both pushed in not letting your feet stop you until you were met with the couch. He took the opportunity to unzip your dress revealing your white lingerie “god.” Matthew mumbled watching as you stepped out of your dress that was now a mere blob on the floor. Leaving you in your underwear and heels.
What you didn’t expect was that he’d move to sit on the couch before he dared to touch you once more “c’mere.” Matthew motioned to you to sit on his thigh as he spread his legs open stretching the fabric of his pants over his muscular legs.
Your mouth watered as you straddled his thighs “so glad to finally have you all to myself.” The hockey player smiled as you gripped at his shoulders “been yours all along.” You quietly clenched your legs as his thigh bucked beneath your clothed cunt.
His lips brushed over yours “been thinking about you all damn day.” Matthew nipped at the skin of your neck forcing your breath to be caught in your throat “what about me?” You groaned feeling his eyes undress the little amount of clothes you had left on.
Matthew let his fingers brush over the strap of your bra “these boobs.” He began pulling the straps to your arms revealing your nipples that peaked from the cool air that hit them. His smirk looked up at you as you whimpered pinching your lower lip between your teeth as you oozed anticipation “please.” You begged giving Matthew a nod as his lips latched onto your left breast leaving his tongue swirling around your nipple.
His eyes fluttered shut as relief painted his body as he hummed at the taste of you on his tongue. Matthew continued his movements sucking and swirling the sensitive bud until you’re slick with his spit rocking your hips against his thigh. Your chest is heaving as you whined feeling goosebumps prick at your skin. Heat shoots from within you and it settles in between your legs “fuck!” You moaned making him sink his teeth against your nipple.
Matthews lips were plump as he brought his hand up to cup your other breast to equally share his attention with “gonna make a mess on your pants.” You warned tugged your fingers through his curls as he rolled your nipple between his fingers.
If this was any other day Matthew would have watched your eyes roll back into your head as you came by the mere flex of his thigh. But as his cock throbbed against the fabric of his pants and the knowledge that your loved ones would soon notice your disappearance “baby I need to fuck you so badly.” Matthews confession made you moan as you nodded.
Within the blink of an eye Matthew had his shirt unbuttoned and his belt unbuckled as you pulled his cock out from under his boxers “been thinking about your tight little pussy too.” The hockey player watching in awe as you drove the head of his cock over your clit making your body shake with pleasure “what about it?” You groaned smiling to yourself as you let your cunt swallow his cock as your walls adjusted to his size.
Foreheads pressed together as it seemed you both forgot how to breathe. The mere gesture of embracing each other almost being too much for you both but he couldn’t handle it as the first to pull away “how you’d look so full with my babies.” Matthew cupped your stomach brushing his thumbs over where your uterus sat beneath your skin. It was a topic that neither one of you had ever gone into depth with as you both agreed that kids would be in your futures “how your breasts would grow full.” You began to move your hips as you smiled settling into your rhythm.
Matthew watched as your eyes adjusted to the dim lights that lowly illuminated the room around you both “I want you to put a baby in me Matthew.” You pleaded clenching around his cock at the thought “want to be full of your come.” You had gone off of the pill last month as you knew you were getting to the stage of wanting kids, now it was beginning to matter that he wasn’t wearing a condom either.
It was hot hearing those words fall from your lips “I’m gonna fuck my pretty little bride so hard she forgets her name.” As soft as Matthews words were you knew it was a serious promise when he picked you up and lay you on the couch bringing himself back to the driving seat of this moment. Your response came in the form of a yelp as Matthew wrapped your legs around his waist “please Matt.” You begged as his pace ruined your once slow one.
The hockey player was desperate to fulfill his desires of seeing you full as he watched his cock bottom you out, hitting your g-spot resulting in your moans painting the walls. Sure to be heard by anyone who dared to be on this floor away from the party. It was dirty how your swollen lips and squashed curls that pressed against your back acted like encouragement to Matthew as he laughed “and to think you acted like you wanted to be down there with all of them.” The hockey player clicked his tongue as he shook his head mocking the innocent act you upheld when you were downstairs smiling at his parents like you didn’t have thoughts of having their son between your legs.
With the only response you allowed to let leave your lips being in the form of whines “but now you’re sat here fucking my cock dumb.” Matthew cupped the back of your head bringing you even closer to him as your hand went behind your bodies finding your clit “want it so bad.” You felt your breathing grow irregular as you struggled to focus “fill me up Mat.” You pleaded beginning to cry as pleasure built up in your body.
Those words were like butter to your husband who tugged at your lower lip between his teeth “won’t last when you speak like that.” Matthew groaned shaking his head as your cunt clenched around his throbbing cock “me too.” You stammered feeling the room around you grow hot as your legs began to shake.
Sounds of skin slapping echoed between you both as your face began to contort “go ahead baby.” Matthew ordered as his cock could only handle so much of this before he came himself “milk my cock pretty girl.” His tongue swiped over your ear lobe finally sending you over the edge.
Low grumbles left your lips as you clamped around his cock in spurts as the movements of your fingers strumming against your clit struggled to keep you focused “s-shit Matt.” You croaked out as your vision went blurry making your eyes screw shut as white specks cascaded over your eyelids “don’t stop.” You pleaded finally getting shut up when he embraced your lips in a hungry kiss.
Matthew wasn’t far behind you as his chest began to grow tight but at the moment he was focused on fucking you through your orgasm “such a pretty girl.” He mewled flaring his nostrils as the coil in his stomach snapped “fuck!” Matthew took the hand that was once behind your head and now pressed it against the arm of the couch to keep himself up.
Your cunt was coated with his release making you smile as he continued to slowly fuck you “gotta make sure it all stays in there baby.” Your husband teased as he pecked your lips.
The moment that was so small was full of so much love between you both that you almost didn’t hear the knock at the door.
Key word, almost.
Brady had been sent up to see where the two of you were “I get you’re a happy couple you two but if we could go downstairs and act like I haven’t just heard that I’d be happy.” His words made your cheeks turn red as you were only met with the sound of Matthews laughter.
Matthew pecked your lips as he smiled “down in a sec!” The panthers player yelled back as he sat up straight hearing the sounds of his brothers footsteps leaving the hallway. His hand reached down to your panties that were on the floor as he smiled “you serious about wanting my babies?” Matthew looked to you for confirmation as you placed your legs in his lap “so serious.” You nodded smiling as he did the same.
The hockey player helped slide your panties over your legs and pressed against your cunt “gotta make sure you don’t lose any of that then.” It made you squirm as you thought about keeping his load of inside of you “now as much as I wanna stay here with you.” Matthew sighed as he brushed your hair out of your face.
You let your lips form a pout already thinking about what he was going to say “we should probably get back before they send him back up here.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice as he pecked your lips “would hate for him to have to hear what you sound like when I have your cock in my mouth.” You smirked seeing Matthew process the image in his mind.
Using the little energy you had you got up and giggled “you’re sending me to an early grave.” Matthew groaned pressing his head into the pillow behind him.
As he watched you place your hands on your hips “that’s why you married me Tkachuk.” You spun around and walked to your dress letting him stare at your ass.
Matthew was living, the life.
378 notes · View notes
jackhues · 3 months
Text
that's going to be us - matthew tkachuk
notes: i hope you guys like this, seventh fic for 'it's the most wonderful time of the year' celly :))
likes are good, reblogs are better <3
part of naqia's end of the year celly!
gif not mine
Tumblr media
"i cannot believe i let you talk me into this," matthew muttered. "i mean, i skate for a living. and now you've got me doing it in my free time."
you rolled your eyes at his theatrics, pulling him along.
it was finally outdoor skating season, which meant it was the perfect time to drag your boyfriend along and show off your moves. you grew up figure skating, but decided not to follow through with the sport professionally.
it began to feel like a competition at that point, it took the joy of skating away. but after you left, you began to fall in love with it again. and you also loved being able to show matthew up on the ice.
even though he 'skated for a living', you were able to do circles around him on your skates.
"it's the season of joy and wonder," you nudged his shoulder. "you can at least act like you want to be here."
"i do want to be here," he told you. "not necessarily at the odr, but i want to be where you are. and since you love outdoor skating, i want to be here with you."
you blushed, swatting his arm. "matthew, you need to stop being all sweet and stuff. you already got me."
matthew smirked at the sight of the ring on your finger, "well it doesn't mean i'm going to stop anytime soon. and you knew that when you said yes to me."
you sighed, choosing not to respond to his point.
you stepped onto the ice once the line ahead of you was finally gone, holding a hand out for matthew. he took your hand, stepping onto the ice and skating next to you.
around you, the two of you watched couples, and friends skating and laughing at each other. you watched parents teach their children how to get up and how to skate. you watched it all with a soft smile on your face, remembering your own childhood.
your dad had helped you get on the ice the first time, and you had fallen in love immediately. you taught your friends as they grew older, and while they didn't love it as much as you, they still saw why you loved it.
you'd almost grown up in this outdoor rink, and now being able to go back here with your fiancé felt beyond special to you.
"why do i have a feeling that's going to be us one day?"
you blinked out of your thoughts, following matthew's line of view.
two parents were trying to help their kids skate. one of their kids, the oldest one, was going in circles around the parents. the youngest child was being held by his mom, taking small steps and grinning. meanwhile, the dad was trying to convince the middle child to get up from the ice. it looked like she'd fallen and decided to just on her bottom for the rest of the time.
you smiled a little at the sight, knowing all of them had big grins on their faces. if that was going to be you and matthew, you'd take it. you'd take that life any day.
"i have a feeling that's going to be us too," you agreed. "just one thing."
"yeah?"
"we're only having two kids," you said. "if they outnumber us, we're never going to get our way."
240 notes · View notes
swissboyhisch · 3 months
Text
The Beginning of the Hockey Couple
Tumblr media
Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk x Ivy Lemieux (OC)
Summary: When Ivy was a kid, her dad took her on a road trip while her mother was away. Everyone wouldn't know that that was the start of beautiful friendships and a relationship.
Word Count: 363
THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD
Tumblr media
Mario Lemieux thought it would be a smart idea to bring his only daughter, 3-year-old Ivy Winter, to St. Louis. Where Blues was hosting the Pittsburgh Penguins. His wife was away visiting family in Australia so his choices were to have Ivy stay with another family for the string or take her with him. Since the road trip was short, he thought why not bring her along. It wasn’t like it was a 2 week roadie.
The older hockey player held his daughter’s hand as they walked into the stadium and to the family room for the away team. Ivy was dressed in her favourite shirt, her dad’s jersey, and a pair of leggings. A matching black and yellow beanie she adores; a was a present from her favourite uncle, Brooks Orpik. He walked alongside the father-daughter duo, chatting to his captain about the coming game. 
Young Ivy did not recognise where she was, so naturally she was curious. She could see people she had never met before everywhere. Her hand slipped from her father’s hand before she ran away from her father, giggling as she ran past different players.
“Ivy Winter!”
Said girl only giggled more at her father’s voice, acting like it was a game of chasey. She turned the corner and slammed into another person, falling onto her bum. The petite child looked up at a young boy not too much older than her. He had curly hair and was wearing a Blues jersey. 
“Are you okay sweetie?” The woman beside the boy questioned, kneeling to help the girl up.
“Yeah,” Ivy replied, taking the woman’s hand to stand. “I’m Ivy.”
The older boy sent Ivy a wide smile, “I’m Matthew.”
“Ivy Winter,” Mario huffed as he spied the familiar little 66 jersey and pigtails in front of the family. “I’m so sorry Tkachuk.”
The man comes up behind his wife and kids, chuckling as Mario picks up his daughter. “All good Lemieux.”
“Keith, Chantal, this is my daughter, Ivy.” The girl sent the family a smile, waving at them.
“Where’s your wife?”
“Family,” Mario replied. “Isn’t that right, bug?”
“She’s seeing nana,” Ivy stated, looking up at her father. “I get to see Daddy play.”
“Who’s looking after her?” Chantal asks, lifting her youngest son onto her hip.
Mario sighed, “I have one of our staff taking her in a corp box. None of the friends or family are here for this game.”
“Do you want me to take her with me?” Chantal offered. “I have both the boys and I’m with the other wives in the box. Ivy can play with Matt and Brady.”
Ivy looked up at her father with a cheeky smile, eyes glinting with the familiar childlike mischievousness, “Can I?”
“You sure it’s not too much trouble?”
Chantal shook her head, “Nonsense, I’m happy to take her. I’ll bring her back to you after the game.”
After Mario made sure Ivy would behave, he sent her off with the family so he could get ready. Ivy on the other hand was so excited to be with other kids her age. 
“Do you play hockey?” Matt asked the young girl as they found the family box.
“Of course,” she sassed. “You?”
“Of course.”
“You my best friend now,” Ivy grinned.
Matthew wrapped his arms around the girl, beginning her into a hug. “Best friends.”
“Me too,” A voice joined the convo, with Brady coming to join the hug. Well try to at least. That was until Matt pushed him away. Brady looked like he was about to cry. “But me too.”
“Matthew,” Chantal warned, watching the wholesome moment soon turn sour. 
“Fine,” The older Tkachuk groaned and turned to his baby brother. “You too.”
The three shared a hug before turning their focus onto the ice to watch the game they all loved so much.
Tumblr media
TAG LIST
@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @dasiysthings @dancerbailey3 @puckmaidens @cole-mcward48 @sammiejane22 @kajasagmo @poufsouffle21 @there-goes-thefighter
94 notes · View notes
drysdaleknieslee · 2 months
Note
Matthew gives off very much husband vibes.
Could you maybe do a fluffy one where it’s the reader first night with him in there new home as a married couple
-🦵🏻
My first fluff ☺️ I look forward to this as he's usually written in a smut setting. And you know I'm delusional so this is gonna be as sweet as I can make it.
Hope you like it 🩵
This day is the day some describe as the best day of your life. And it was. Family and friends gathering for the union of two people who swear to love each other forever. Today was your day. The weather suited well today on a lovely morning in France.
From the moment you saw yourself in your dress to the moment Matthew saw you and burst into tears as you walked down the isle with your father.
Your vows were sweet yet impactful. Neither one of you could keep it together. You tried so hard not to ruin your makeup but by then, you didn't care. This was the day you were marrying the love of your life and you didn't regret a single thing.
The reception was a party. Absolute riot. Of course Brady and Matt were the life of the party, other teammates cheering us on as we entered the venue. Safe to say everything went off with a hitch. The first dance, to the food, the cake, endless drinks (of course upon Brady's request), all the way to the honeymoon.
"It feels good to have some piece and quiet for the first time today." you tell Matty after bidding the goodbyes and finally getting into the limo.
We leave for our official honeymoon tomorrow. Tonight we wanted to enjoy each others company before the trip to Fiji.
"Your telling me. I'm glad we stopped Brady from requesting Gangnum Style for the fourth time in a row."
We pulled up to the hotel, all giddy and giggling with each other. Happy to be alone. With your husband. You, his wife. You let out a yelp as Matt picks you up bridal style after unlocking the door. He kisses your cheek softly before placing you gently on the bed. The yawn you let out afterwards displays the events of today finally hitting you hard with exhaustion.
"Ready for bed? Mrs. Tkachuk?" he asks undoing his tie. "Most definetly. You'll get my dress for me?"
You move your hair out of the way for him to unzip your dress and remove your necklace. Not before placing a gentle chaste kiss at the base of your neck. Nothing sexual, just tender affection.
He wraps his arms wrap around your waist as you look out along the France skyline, admiring the city and the sound of bustling people below.
"I love you Matthew Tkachuk," you say turning around in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck.
"And I you, Mrs. Y/N Tkachuck. Now and always."
82 notes · View notes
midnightsnyx · 4 months
Note
Hiii can you do the “I hate you as… A joke; I'm giggling and so are you, and the words are so soft no one takes them seriously.” with Matthew tkachuk pls?
hi ty for the request <3 sorry it’s so late & short lol
requests are open and i am working on getting through the ones i have now!!
“i hate you,” matt grumbles, yanking on the blankets the two of you are sharing. well, trying to share. you both have a tendency to hog the blankets at night and tonight is no different.
“no you don’t,” you say, pulling the blanket away from him with a small grin on your face. he huffs, but rolls over so he’s facing you. his hair is a mess and he looks tired but he’s got a soft smile on his face that is reserved just for you.
“no, i don’t,” he agrees, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. every muscle in your body relaxes automatically and you feel a sense of security every time you are with him.
“there’s nobody i’d rather steal blankets from me,” he says, kissing your nose and grinning.
you can’t help when a giggle escapes your lips and when he starts laughing softly, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.
56 notes · View notes
matthewtkachuk · 1 year
Text
nothing kills you slower than letting someone go - matthew tkachuk
Your first Christmas in Calgary without Matthew proves to be more dramatic than you’d imagined
pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader
warnings: angst angst angst, a shitty breakup, shitting on the calgary transit system and also the weather, tumblr user matthewtkachuk finally taking on the matthew tkachuk florida trade
word count: 3.1k
happy (early) birthday c, i love you so so so so sos ososos os much you deserve the absolute fucking world and i would kill anyone for you, all you have to do is ask. big thank u to @antoineroussel as always for proofreading, even if i decline her changes 50% of the time.
@ryngrvs bingo spaces used: exes to lovers, "you're killing me", argument scene, unresolved angst, forced proximity
Tumblr media
“You’re killing me.”
It’s spoken by the head of curls poking out from beneath the cream duvet that may or may not be attached to your boyfriend. He’s enjoying the perks of a rare day off, while you’re stumbling around the bright room getting ready for work at the ass crack of dawn. 
“I’m sorry, Matty, I’ll turn the light off as soon as I finish getting dressed.” 
“Or you could stop getting dressed and come back to bed,” is his muffled reply. He stretches with a loud groan, peeking out at you from beneath the covers for a moment before dramatically squeezing his eyes shut and covering his head once more. 
“Would that I could, baby. Would that I could,” you tell him, tossing on a shirt from your large walk-in closet and finally, mercifully, turning off the light. It’s a short walk back over to the bed where you unceremoniously yank the covers away in order to give him a short but sweet kiss goodbye. “Love you, see you later.” 
His responding ‘I love you’ sounds more like a promise than a parroting of your own words back at you. 
Life in Calgary is good, perfect even one might say. Just you, Matty, a cute apartment with a good view—what more could a girl ask for? Except for maybe a milder winter and a physical confirmation and representation of the future you think you’re heading toward. 
Six months later, at his brother’s engagement party, Matt is traded to the opposite side of the continent  and you’re moving into the spare bedroom of your friend’s apartment. Your view? The brick of the building next door and the shambles of a life you’d no longer get to lead. 
-
Calgary’s always been cold, but it’s even colder without Matthew to warm your bed or your apartment or your life. Apparently the mid-December cold snap has temperatures dropping below that of even the North and South Poles. Once upon a time that would mean extended mornings together in bed, warm and cozy under covers until you would successfully guilt trip him into giving you a ride to work. 
These days you have to wake up a full hour earlier than you used to in order to take the notoriously unreliable Calgary transit system, shivering in the uncovered bus shelter while you wait and wait and wait for a bus that may never come, and cursing your manager for being the ultimate boomer, afraid of letting his staff work from home.
It’s one of those days when your bus is a full half an hour late and the windchill could best be described as ‘fucking cold’ when you get an unexpected text message. 
Busy?
It’s Annika, Elias’s newly minted fiance if instagram is to be believed, and one of the girls you had been closest to when you’d existed within the stratosphere that was the Calgary Flames. It’s unexpected but not unwelcome or unrealistic, seeing as she’s checked on you here and there in the months since your split.
No, but yes and also kind of in a pickle...
Ten minutes later, there’s still no sign of your bus, but a different mode of transportation presents itself in your old friend behind the wheel of an SUV.
Your shoulders are shivering and your teeth are chattering and you’re 99% sure your lips are blue when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the window reflection before climbing in.
“You’re an absolute lifesaver Ann,” you gush the moment you’re situated in the passenger seat, pleasantly surprised when the seat warmer is already warm and toasty beneath your ass.
“What are friends for, right?” she gleefully replies, signaling before turning back onto the icy street. 
Christmas music plays lightly through the car radio, filling the silences between the two of you catching up on the past few months. 
It’s pleasant and warm—so, so incredibly warm thank God—which should have been an indication that a bomb was about to be thrown your way. 
“Come to our Christmas party,” Annika blurts out with a complete and uncharacteristic lack of poise. You’re ready to tell her all about the multitude of ways that’s a bad idea when she continues, “Just listen...”
It takes a lot to convince you that a Christmas Party being hosted at the house she owned with Elias is how you want to spend your valuable free time. Partially it’s the promise of free booze, partially it’s the way your chest aches when you think of all the friends you lost when your relationship went to shit, but mostly it’s the assurance that it’s neither the Official nor Unofficial Flames Christmas party and it won’t be just players and their significant others present. 
That, and the fact that Annika went out of her way to pick you up in the freezing cold at seven thirty in the morning and give you a ride when Calgary Transit had let you down so spectacularly. 
You let her talk and don’t give her an answer until she’s dropping you off in front of work.
“So, will you come?”
“Of course I’ll come, thanks for the ride, Ann.”
The wide smile on her face should make your frozen heart melt a little, but you’re too busy focusing on the dread you feel deep in your stomach.
-
You knew it was going to be a bad day when even your gimmicky weather app told you it was so cold you were better off staying at home.
But you’ve spent enough time sitting at home, staring at your four walls and wishing for a better outcome. Besides, you’re not going to let anyone down, especially not after knowing the pain of the ultimate let down that was Matthew Tkachuk and everything he’d promised you and then failed to deliver. 
The only one you’re impressing is yourself these days, which is your justification for the thirty minute long shower where you let a hair mask soak into your ends and exfoliate your entire body despite being under no pretenses that anyone but you would benefit from it.
And okay maybe the thought of ending up in the background of someone’s Insta story is motivation enough for you to spend that extra bit of time on your hair and makeup, and to choose the jeans that make your ass look great and the shirt that does the same for your tits. It’s a secret that will remain between you and Anastasia Beverly Hills. 
A loud cheer is sounded when you walk through the front door of the Lindholm home after a short Uber ride.
“You and Matthew broke up, not us,” Elias tells you after pulling you in for a big bear hug. It takes everything you have in you to not give into the wobbling of your lower lip at his words. Maybe it wasn’t fair to avoid this world and everything that came with it for fear that it would prevent your broken heart from mending itself piece by piece. These were good people who you cared for and who cared for you in return, people who only had your best interests at heart. 
“I promise I’ll quit hiding in Chrissy’s apartment,” you reply quietly before letting Annika lead you away to introduce you to some of the new faces around the room. 
Ashley Kadri is every bit as glamorous and kind as your friend talked her up to be, and her husband is much of the same, letting you gush about how amazing his cup run with the Avs had been last season. 
You can take the girl out of the hockey relationship, but you can’t take the hockey out of the girl.
It’s all going well and reminding you of how much you used to love being a part of this world when it predictably goes to hell again.
Securing another drink means walking past the front door to head towards the kitchen, and you can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing that it’s here, away from prying eyes, that you run into the last person you expected to see in Calgary ever again outside of a game situation. 
“What are you doing here?” Matthew asks, stunned by the mere presence of you in his former teammate but forever friend’s home. 
“What am I doing here? Me? What the fuck are you doing here?” you snap back angrily, but even you’re not sure exactly what you mean by ‘here’. Canada? Calgary? Lindy’s entryway? Your fragile, shattered heart?
Torn between bursting into tears and strangling the man in front of you, you’re saved from the decision by Elias appearing out of nowhere with a robust “Chucky!”
Annika’s guilty face behind her fiance tells you Matthew’s arrival is not unwelcome nor unexpected.
“I need a drink,” you whisper quietly, ignoring Annika’s attempts to gain your attention. 
Much like he hadn’t when he left, you don’t spare Matthew a second glance as you leave.
You’re not sure if it’s a cruel twist of fate, or the result of your not-so-kind-hearted friends’ meddling that has you sitting next to Matthew at dinner. He spends most of it trying to get your attention, but you focus on Jacob and talking his and his girlfriend’s ears off about her pregnancy. 
At some point between stuffing your face with mashed potatoes and none-too-gracefully reaching over Matthew to grab seconds to avoid having to engage in conversation with him, his leg brushes yours. The sensation has your skin feeling like it’s on fire through your jeans, and you react accordingly, flinching away like you’ve been burned. 
Later, you’re sat in a circle with a group of Annika’s friends, listening to them drone on and on about some great opportunity that, for some reason you can’t quite put your finger on, has you imagining the shape of a triangle. 
Realizing you’re going to need more alcohol to get through the conversation, you excuse yourself and run right into the very person you’ve been avoiding all night. 
If you were stronger, less heartbroken still, you would look him right in his eyes and dismiss him without much more than a callous, offhanded comment of his name. You’re not, and you are, and so you just stare up at him, feeling as though all of the oxygen in the room has been sucked out. 
He manages to say your name though, and the sound of it is so bittersweet on his tongue. Equal parts sounding like it belongs there, and like it should never be spoken by him again. 
“Can we get out of here? Talk?”
Annika’s friends are staring with far too much interest, not even pretending like they’re not eavesdropping and so you storm away to a much quieter spot down the hallway.
Spinning on him, you say, “I didn’t drive, and I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Please? I really want to clear the air, and I can’t do it with all of my former teammates breathing down my neck.” He seems sincere enough, even if the very sight of him has your body breaking out into a nervous sweat, and you’re pretty sure you feel the beginning of an allergic hives reaction breaking out along your arms.
“You should have thought of that before you ambushed me at their party.”
“I didn’t know you were going to be here, I promise. Lindy invited me, and I couldn’t just turn him down.” 
You know the feeling well, not wanting to let Annika down was seventy five percent of the reason you were here tonight, too. Something about the way that makes you feel has you agreeing, “Fine.”
“If you really want, we can take separate Ubers,” he offers, and you realize the notion is ridiculous, but you still consider it for half a second before you sigh so deeply you feel it in your bones before rattling off your new address. He looks shocked, and you realize when he opens the app on his phone, the old address is still saved as Home.
“You didn’t think I could afford the condo after you left did you? I can't even afford to live by myself, Matthew,” you snap at him.
“I didn’t realize—“
“Yeah there’s a lot you didn’t realize, Matthew.”
The full name moniker that slips from your mouth slices right through his bravado as he viscerally winces. 
Your ride comes quickly, but the actual ride itself seems to take an entire hour as the blue Toyota Camry with the Flames license plate weaves in and out of traffic. It makes you wonder if the car really belongs to Carl, your Uber driver, as he casually has a conversation with Matthew without any fuss.
Normally, you go out of your way to make others feel appreciated, but you can’t even find it within yourself to thank Carl when he pulls up at your apartment, simply jumping out from the car before it’s even fully parked.
Matthew takes in his surroundings carefully, critically, as he looks at discarded needles on the ground in front of you and the gang sign graffiti a few buildings down from yours. It makes you angry—no, makes you furious—as you watch him judge your surroundings. As if he had any reason to care about where you rested your head at night anymore.
You still don’t say anything though. Just let that anger stew and simmer, bubbling below the surface as you buzz into the lobby and then up the elevator. 
“You wanted to talk? Talk.” You cross your arms and glare at him, impatiently and involuntarily tapping your foot on the cheap laminate flooring.
He looks lost, panicked, like he didn’t think he would even make it this far. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t know what to say?” You’re in disbelief, truly. He shows up in your city, at a party you’re at, and demands to speak with you privately at your apartment and he can’t think of a single thing to fucking say to you? “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I didn’t think it would be like this,” he says, elaborating further when your look of disbelief only grows. “Seeing you again. I didn’t think it would be like this.”
“You made it like this! You left me behind like I was nothing, like we were nothing.”
He winces as the truth leaves your lips. “I know, and I’ve regretted it ever since. From the moment the door shut behind me for the last time, I’ve regretted it.”
“Then why? Why did you do it? Why did you leave me?” The feeling brewing in your chest can’t be pinned down to just one emotion; it’s sadness and anger and hurt, but it’s something else too. Something you can’t put your finger on but it burns like cheap whiskey down your throat. 
“I couldn’t ask you to leave Calgary, everything you have is here.”
That’s it? That’s his excuse? Deciding for the both of you what was important to you, what you would want? 
“I fucking hate Calgary! It’s so fucking cold and it snows all the time and you’re not there anymore!” 
He’s on you in a second, cold hands curved around your jaw and hot mouth on yours. Your back hits the wall, and you think a picture frame falls, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Gripping and pulling him closer, your hands can’t settle on a place, roaming and feeling, re-committing every curve, every sharp edge of his body to memory.
It’s a mess of teeth and tongue, whining and panting and a thrumming need until his mouth breaks free of yours, trailing down your neck.
You come back into yourself then, back into the harsh memory of his packed bags and his back as he walked away from you and everything you had to offer. “Stop…Stop!” You push him off of you. There’s barely any effort put into it on your part, but he flies off of you like you had herculean strength. 
One of his hands is tangled in the hair atop his head, while the fingers of the other are pressed to his lips as if in disbelief. 
“I’m sorry, I-”
“What? It was a mistake? An accident? I don’t want to fucking hear it! What is wrong with you?” It takes everything in your power to keep the tears from falling, though you’re sure your watery gaze betrays you. Your arms are wrapped around you, almost as if you could physically hold your broken pieces together. 
“I’m just sorry,” he replies, resigned in a way you can’t ever quite remember him being. “I’m just sorry and I miss you so fucking much.”
You laugh then, loud and cruel and sharp. “Apology not accepted.”
He says your name, quiet and wounded, almost like a prayer, a plea.
Swallowing the lump in your throat you reply, “You didn’t even ask me to come with you.”
“Would you have?”
“Yes.”
“Would you come with me now?”
“Absolutely not.”
He looks shocked then. Like it’s inconceivable that you’re not willing to drop everything for him, five months after he left you behind without so much as a second glance. Like he thought he could just show up in Calgary, at Elias’ party, like nothing was wrong and you would follow him back like a lost puppy. 
The day after your breakup? Absolutely. The week after? Maybe. But you had five months to learn to be okay without the man standing in front of you, and no shitty apology or burning kiss was going to change that. 
“Calgary may be cold and miserable, but it’s predictable. I know exactly what to expect—fucking cold from October to May, and a little less cold for the rest of the year. You? I have no idea what you’ll do next. And that used to excite me, used to make me think you were just passionate. But now I don’t trust you, and I don’t think I ever could.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“I think you should go.” When he doesn’t even blink, your mouth twists into a horrible grimace as you lose control of yourself and the floodgates holding back your tears burst. “Fucking leave! You’re killing me here, Matty.”
You’ll never know if it was the tears or the nickname you let slip past your lips, but he leaves. And you’re not sure you’ve made the right choice, but he made the wrong one first and you’ll never forget that.
335 notes · View notes
ilyasorokinn · 2 years
Text
new beginnings , matthew tkachuk
note, this is so sad. i don't even know what to say. i don't know if there is anything to say. hope you enjoy. pair, matthew tkachuk x reader summary, matthew tkachuk gets traded to the florida panthers. warnings, children word count, 1183 words
Tumblr media
(gif not mine)
"Where's Florida?" Olivia asked.
You had just told Olivia and Jamie you were moving from Calgary to Florida. Max was still too young to understand what was happening, so he was in his crib taking a nap.
You pulled out your phone and showed both of them on a map where you'd be moving, "That's so far." Olivia looked like she was gonna cry. Matt frowned, pulling her into his lap.
"I know, but think, we'll get to go to Disney World all the time." Of course, you and Matt were sad to leave the place you had called home since you were 18, but you knew it was time to go.
That seemed to brighten her mood a little, "But what about Charlie?" Although there was a pretty big age gap between Charlie Coleman and Olivia, they were still best friends.
"I'm sorry, Livey." Matt offered her a sad smile. She pushed herself off his lap and ran into her room, closing the door carefully. You looked over at Matt, a worried look on your face.
He looked just as nervous, "What about you, Jam? What do you think?"
"Disney?" He asked.
"Yeah, we'll get to go to Disney World a lot." Matt nodded.
"Yay!" He clapped his hands. Clearly, he was more excited than his sister.
"All right, I guess we have our answer." You smiled optimistically.
-
Olivia had been in her room for almost 3 hours, which was a record. You let her be alone because it was a lot of change to wrap your head around at 5 years old.
"All right, I'm gonna check on her," Matt announced, standing up from the kitchen table.
"You sure?" You asked.
"Yeah, I can do it." He nodded, making his way up to her room. He knocked on her door before pushing the door open, "Livey?"
"I don't want to go." She sniffled, letting him know that she had started crying.
His heart broke as he laid down in her small bed next to her. He picked her up and held her in his arms, "I know you don't. I don't want to either, but aren't you excited to go somewhere new? You're gonna make so many new friends."
"But Charlie." She pouted.
"How about this? Every time I have to come back here for work, you can come, too and you can see her."
"And can we come back during breaks?"
"We'll see." Matt smiled.
She was warming up to the idea, "Okay."
"Deal?"
"Deal." She nodded.
"I love you." He squeezed her a little tighter and kissed the top of her head.
"Love you, too, daddy."
-
The day after the trade was announced, you, Matt, and all three kids flew down to Florida. He took pictures with staff, held a press conference, and lastly, the team gifted all three children with new merch for your kids.
You tried to ignore the cameramen in the room and focused all your attention on Jamie and Olivia in front of you, "Look at how cool it is." You showed them the new jersey.
"Cool." Jamie nodded, his eyes wide as he took in every detail of the jersey. He raised his arms and you slipped the jersey on him.
Olivia observed it a little while longer, but raised her arms and let Matt slip the jersey on her. You held Max in your arms, a little Panthers jersey of his own, as you posed for the cameras all around you.
When you got back to your home you were renting till you officially moved in, Keith and Chantel were there. You had a surprise in store for the kids, so they were going to watch them while you got their surprise.
"All right, we'll be back soon. Be good for grandma and grandpa." You kissed Olivia's head as you headed towards the car.
"Bye-bye." Jamie and Olivia waved.
"Bye." You both waved.
-
A few hours later, you were pulling back into the driveway, your special surprise asleep in the backseat. You carefully picked up the surprise from the backseat while Matt gathered everything else you had picked up.
You unlocked the door, "We're home." You sang.
Jamie and Olivia ran to greet you and gasped when they saw the surprise in your arms, "A puppy?"
"Surprise." You smiled, bending down and letting them pet him and introduce themselves. The dog's tail hadn't stopped wagging since the moment they started petting him.
"Is he ours?"
"He's all ours." You nodded.
"What's his name?"
"What do you want to name him?"
Jamie and Olivia looked at each other, and whispered back and forward before turning back to you, "Woody." Jamie stated.
"Woody?" They both nodded.
"All right, well welcome to the family, Woody."
-
True to his word, when Matt played the Flames, he came back to Calgary with you and Olivia. Your parents flew into Florida to watch Jamie and Max.
You had a couple new jackets gifted to you from the Panther's partners, but decided to switch it up and wear an old Flames jacket in support.
When you walked out of the bathroom wearing the jacket, Matt let out a laugh, "What? Is there something wrong with my jacket, Matthew?"
"Nope, not at all." He shook his head, a smile on his face as he pulled you into a brief hug and pressed a kiss to your head.
Before meeting up with the Coleman clan, you waited in front of the glass for Matt. The Flames were first to come out, and the first person who spotted you by the glass was Elias Lindholm, and he skated up to you with the brightest smile on his face.
A few more players came up to greet you. The only people who knew of you coming to the game were the Coleman's, so seeing everyone else was a surprise.
Matt eventually came out and spotted you easily. He skated over and tossed a puck over. It was part of your tradition. Every game the kids came to, he made sure to get each of them pucks.
This game was no different.
After your glass traditions, you found your seats, and Charlie and Olivia reunited, giving each other big hugs. You hugged Jordan, "Oh, it's so good to see you. FaceTime does no justice."
"Oh, I've missed you too. So glad we were able to come. You'll have to come down to Florida sometime."
"Off-season, you'll be seeing us a lot." She laughed, "And we'll have to do a group Disney trip."
"For sure." You nodded.
"And nice jacket." She ran her finger over the jacket.
"Thank you, thank you. Had to represent." You laughed.
After the game, you met up with Matt by the guest locker room, before making the all-too-familiar trekk towards the home locker room.
"Just the people we were waiting for. The Tkachuk's." You were pulled into a million different hugs as each player and partner pulled you all into hugs.
"Gotta say, haven't missed ay of you." Matt joked, a smile on his face.
"Feelings mutual, chuck." You all laughed.
-
my taglist: @mitch-slap @joelsfarabees @tysonjost-taylorsversion @rosesvioletshardy @laurenairay @kidlnthedark @bowen-power @nhlrbs @lam-ila @puckinrightschicagoo @stars-canucks @iwantahockeyhimbo @2manytabsopen @lady-laura-speaks @owenpowersglasses @calermakar08 @hamilton160 @pierrelucduboiis @thescooby-gang @huggybearmylove43 @sammysworldddd @mista-svech @paintlavillered @samanthasgone @hockeyboysarehot @nicoleloveshockey @thedukes-56-5 @tkachukswife @hockeyunits @dumbxblond3 @kaydenissleepy @yagetintoit @seventieswhore @MichelleKirby30 @jamieeboulos @Coffeeandteaandflowers @bibella8swan @cuttergauth
[ taglist ]
320 notes · View notes
typical-simplelove · 2 years
Note
Hi! I hope you’re venture back into writing is going well. No rush on this because I totally understand how hard it can be coming back from a break, no matter how long. May I please request song 214 (stay stay stay assuming I counted correctly) and prompt 54 with Matthew Tkachuk? Please and thank you. Again, no rush. This is my stan song and I was really happy when I saw it on the playlist. 😘 stay fabulous
214. Stay Stay Stay (Taylor's Version) with Matthew Tkachuk Please note: I lost the link to the prompt list, so I can't include that here, I'm afraid. I'm so sorry, but I hope you enjoy this!
Requests are closed!
Tumblr media
The minute he walked out of the room, Matthew knew he made a mistake. It was wrong for him to say anything he said, and although you made some hurting remarks, Matthew knows he's the real one to blame. You wouldn't have said anything if Matthew didn't start the argument first.
"As my partner, it's expected that you'd move with me wherever I'm traded," Matthew recalls yelling at you. As the words he said echo through his mind, he's cringing. How could he have been so stupid? So callous? So idiotic?
It's not expected. He never expected that of you, but for one fleeting moment, Matthew thought you were going to leave him. He thought you were going to abandon him because you'd realize moving to Florida wouldn't be worth it.
Matthew would rather self-sabotage the relationship rather than let you realize he wasn't good enough.
Now, though, Matthew screwed things up into oblivion that he doesn't know if there's ever a chance of going back.
His heart nearly breaks when he hears you lock the door to your shared bedroom. Yeah, he'd do the same if he were in your position.
For the next two hours, Matthew's sitting on the couch, praying and hoping that you're going to come out. Were you waiting for him to leave? Did you want him to leave? Were you done with him? Was this your way of telling him to pack up his belongings and leave? Was this your way of ensuring that the message got across?
Did this mark the end of you loving him?
Matthew wouldn't blame you if you came to that condition. Right about now, Matthew's about ready to stop loving himself.
By some miracle, though, you unlock the door. Four hours after you locked that door, you opened the door and take a seat next to Matthew.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, wrapping your arms around Matthew.
"You're sorry?" Matthew asks, astonished. "What do you have to be sorry for? I'm the one who fucked everything up."
"I said some not nice things, too."
"Yeah, but I started it. I was the one who caused the argument. I'm the one who said the worst thing ever. I'm sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for."
"I know you're sorry," you say. "I accept your apology. As much as it hurt to hear you say it, I knew the minute you said it that you regretted it."
"I'd do anything to take it all back. Anything."
You nod.
"I was wrong to immediately assume that you were going to move to Florida with me," Matthew tells you, wanting to make sure his entire apology is let out. He can't say the worst thing to you and not try everything to make it right.
"You're not entirely misplaced in your statement, Matthew," you admit. "If I got a job in a different country, I'd expect you to want to think about moving with me, too, regardless of your job."
"Probably wouldn't have said it the way I did."
You laugh, a sign to Matthew that meant that you were both moving forward. "Can we try that conversation over again?"
"Please," Matthew begs.
"Great," you respond with a smile. Staying, that's what made everything work out.
124 notes · View notes
bqstqnbruin · 1 year
Text
Florida Panthers
Tumblr media
Main Masterlist
If the links don’t work, please let me know!
Spencer Knight
Blurbs:
Untitled
Harvard Girls
Matthew Tkachuk
Fics:
Lead Me
Two times you knew where you were going and one time you didn’t
Distractions
Secret Love Song (also with brother Brady) 
Four times he told them you were his friend and once he said you were his girlfriend 
Boyfriend: Part 1// Part 2 // Part 3
One in a million
Teach me something series masterlist
10 things series masterlist
Blurbs:
Whipped cream anyone?
Hitting it from behind (this tried to be smutty and didn’t work v well not sorry)
Jacuzzi
Giving Matty a massage after a hard game
Matthew coming home in the middle of the night
You and Brady are friends and Matthew gets jealous
Matthew is a disaster when it comes to cooking
You find Matthew taking care of the new kitten
You’re drunk and you tell Matthew what he wants to hear
You bump into Matthew for the first time after your break up
Matthew’s changed and you think it’s your fault
It’s Halloween and you want Matthew to dress up for your son
You’re a sore loser when Matthew’s a sore winner
You drag Matthew to a paint and sip night
Your daughter, Lucie, says her first word and it’s Matthew’s fault
Matthew’s sick and his teammates try to help
Matthew is so drunk he doesn’t recognize you, but tells you so much about his feelings
Matthew wants romance but only with one person at the bar you two are at
Matthew meets your parents and they don’t like him at first
You’re supposed to meet the guys and you can’t figure out what to wear since everything is dirty
You didn’t wear a coat and Matthew is trying to keep you warm
You hate Matthew, but do you really? 
Matthew wants to make sure that you forget the guy who was flirting with you (This is smut, so only 18+)
You and Matthew are scared to tell your parents what should be exciting news
Matthew plans something for you with the help of your friend
Matthew freaks out over your broken wrist
Matthew won’t let go of your daughter
You found out your boyfriend was writing another girl love letters
Matthew’s girlfriend broke up with him because of you
You hate Matthew, but look, you’re stuck under the mistletoe with him
Matthew is in an uncomfortable situation with an ex and you come to his rescue
You and Matthew are both trying to get back from the holidays and look, there’s only one car
Matthew comes to your rescue when the power goes out
Matthew is teaching children how to skate and everyone around you wants you to ask him out
65 notes · View notes
drabblemesilly · 2 years
Text
Matthew Tkachuk #9
I’ve always loved writing Rat Boy (TM) and I’ve always loved writing the awkward neighbor trope so here you go! 
Enjoy! :)
Word count: 1005
Tumblr media
You were on a mission: retrieve the ball you threw into your neighbor’s backyard. Did you throw the ball a little too hard? Yes. Did you think your dog had superpowers and can jump over the unusually high fence? No. 
So now, you had to drag your silly ass next door and force yourself to interact with the neighbor who’s always either on a trip or hosting frat boys on random week days. People shouldn’t judge but you’ve always been wondering who this guy is and what he does. Is he some sort of dealer? How much is he selling his weed for?  Would he sell to you if you were nice enough? 
Taking a big breath in, you knocked on his door twice. You would have knocked a third time if the door hadn’t opened to reveal a smiling, shirtless, curly-haired, specimen. 
How can people say God is fair when he can make someone who looks like that and then make someone who looks like you? 
The monster with eight pack abs shifted from one foot to the other, “can I help you?” 
Fuck, now you’re staring. Of course, “hi,” you gulped, why do shirtless men make you nervous? Is it the nipples staring at you? 
“Yeah?” he asked. 
Holy shit, his muscles actually flex when he talks. 
“I’m from next door,” how you managed to get that sentence out is a mystery, “and I might have tossed my dog’s ball into your back yard.” 
“Oh yeah?” he laughed, “come on in.”
 You don’t know many people who would let strangers in just because they said they tossed a ball into the backyard but okay.
 “Really?” you laughed, stepping into the threshold, “I could have just said that so I can get in and murder you.” Ugh, brain fart.
 You really should learn how to filter words. Mouth, meet muzzle.
 “Nah,” he said over his shoulder, motioning for you to follow him, “you weigh what?” he laughed, “I could easily take you and besides,” he shrugged, his back muscles flexing, “I’ve been told I pack a mean punch.”
 Judging from the way his back showed muscles you didn’t even know existed and how his ass tightened with every step he took, you easily believed him.
 You really shouldn’t objectify men like that. If this were a lady, people would cancel you on Twitter. Just for thinking these thoughts!
 You distracted yourself by looking around the house, noting the pool and foosball tables, the video game consoles, and the expensive shoes strewn everywhere. Who is this guy and what does he do?
 You hurried behind him, telling him your name. You seem to have forgotten to introduce yourself in the midst of all the muscle flexing and the hair curling.
 “I’m Matthew,” he tossed back, stepping out onto his surprisingly well kept yard.
 He pointed towards the green ball patiently sitting on a bed of grass. Oh, right, you were for the ball. Ha-ha, you’ve almost forgotten, “is that it?”
 “I think so?”
 He snickered, jogging over to retrieve it before tossing it back to you.
 “I live next door,” you offered when he was finally within earshot, his nipples still kind of distracting you.
 “You already said that,” he reminded, crossing his arms over his magnificent chest, god even his arms looked like they had arms, what the hell, “and besides, I see you around sometimes.”
 “Huh, really,” you find that hard to believe.
 His grin widened, “totally,” he started walking back towards the house, his long legs keeping him at a distance.
 Back at the front door, he offered his hand, “nice to finally meet  you, neighbor.”
 “Nice to finally meet you too,” you managed to push out, settling your hand into his.
 Oh wow, the things this hard, calloused hand can do to you.
 OMG STOP.
 Are you really standing in the middle of your neighbor’s doorway fantasizing about him?
 Blame the nipples.
 And the abs.
 And the super short shorts that shows off his thighs.
 And his ass.
 And his arms too, while you’re at it.
 “You’re staring,” he whispered, taking his hand back.
 “Shit,” you murmured, “the nipples,” you pointed out before covering your mouth, mortified.
 He laughed so hard his chest actually shook.
 “I just said that, didn’t I?” you asked, cheeks starting to heat up.
 “You did.”
 “Oh god,” you sighed, “I am so so sorry,” you held your hands out, “I did not mean to say it, oh my god. It’s just that, that” you gestured towards his still very naked torso, “is very distracting.”
 “Hmm,” he teased, moving his arms enough to flex the muscles once again, “you don’t say.”
 “Shut up,” you gaped, “you know it is,” turning, you headed out, “thanks for this,” you told him, lifting the ball, “won’t happen again.”
 Eyes laughing, he nodded, “I wouldn’t mind if it did.”
Truth be told, you wouldn’t mind either, if that meant seeing him again. He’s cute and you’re human.
 You rolled your eyes at that before starting to walk down the steps, making sure that your hips swayed a little.
 Only it might have been swaying too much because the next thing you know, you tripped and your face became all too familiar with the pavement.
 Can this get any worse?
 “Don’t help me,” you yelled when you heard him run for you.
 You’ve never gotten up more quickly in your entire life.
 He pulled you up anyway.
 How mortifying.
 “You okay?” he asked, worry now on his face.
 Nodding, you gave him another smile, “how embarrassing was that?”
 “Not more embarrassing than having your ass kicked on national television, trust me,” he chuckled.
 “I’ll take your word for it. See you around?”
 Giving you a thumbs up, he answered, “see you around.”
 “Please wear s shirt next time,” you joked.
 He gave you a salute, “promise. We don’t want you tripping anymore.”
 Oh good Lord. You ran back home.
 Only when you slammed your door, you realized: you left the fucking ball.
83 notes · View notes
cheddaryouthanme · 8 months
Text
Hockey RPF writers being known across fandoms as literary masters
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
When I first started reading MattDrai fics on AO3 I remember thinking “wait what the HELL is going on why is this the most consistently well-written fanfiction I’ve read in any fandom? Is this a thing? Do people know??” And apparently it is and they do.
4K notes · View notes
i'd sigh in bliss, even while drowning, if only it was your hand holding me under; your kiss is the most violent death i've ever known.
Tumblr media
qh43 x reader: let's take this bitter tension on the water, shall we?
(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (have you guys seen his hair, recently?), choking (it's really been too long. too many nice guys), talking (he brings out the best in me), tears (or the worst idk), lots and lots and lots of miscommunication and tension and being kinda mean, obviously i'm forgetting things but all my usual stuff.  please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(a/n: thank you for waiting, my favorites. i give you qh43 x doll (on deck). this idea has taken me a long time to flesh out, with lots of work and outlining and such, so i really hope you enjoy. i told myself it was going to be short and it ended up being 16.5k, because i have no self control. i guess i was just in the mood to write angst-filled argument after angst-filled argument, given all the sweet boy content i've been putting out recently (don't worry, that will be back soon enough). and qh43 is my go-to for the sad stuff, for the fights and kisses in the rain (literally, this time). can you tell i was listening to taylor's is it really over? way too much and thought... what if it wasn't? over, that is? obviously, none of this makes any logistical sense, you guys know this. thank you for reading anyways. let's see, what else? loving the nico slut headcanon i'm committing to. also love a good mt19 gap-tooth takeover (is he not the perfect cruise ship fling?). and luke is here, too, for all the people telling me to write for him. i'm sorry, i know the miscommunication trope is frustrating and the one-bed trope is cliche. please, for the love of god, take this as a sign to be clear with people about how you feel. life is too short. i have like one billion baby stories started right now, so we will see for which inspiration proves most fruitful. will it be golf pro cc22 x bevcart girl? geology ta js1 x classics ta? the tj17 one i've been trying to finish forever? none of the above? we'll see. pretty, pretty please, tell me what you think. go canucks (dare i say cup-bound), tell your snakes i love them. until next time. love, always).
as much as you wanted to be completely and purely excited for this little excursion, as much as you wanted this to be a truly undiluted celebration of your best friend's wedding next weekend, something was standing in your way.
"c'mon," the bride-to-be, savannah, said, standing on the pier next to you as you gazed out at the obscenely massive cruise ship, its numerous windows like the eyes of a spider, much too many and much too close together, "you've worked so hard, babe." she gave you a tight side-hug, which you returned. "you've made this whole process so easy, hm? let loose for a weekend, and then, i promise, you can go right back to being the militant maid of honor you are."
you let out a short laugh, let your shoulders settle back into place. "thanks for this weekend, sav," you said. "it's gonna be great." she was right, of course, in some ways, and wrong in others.
you had worked hard, very, very hard, because you cared about savannah, loved her like a sister, and you wanted her wedding to be one of dreams. you liked jack, her fiance, a lot, too, and you liked them together, saw how they brought out the best in each other.
it had been months of making sure everything during the planning process went over smoothly, of being there for savannah when the world felt like it was ending, when the pressure of a wedding felt like it was insurmountable.
when bridesmaids had a little too much to say about their dresses, or when family members had a little too much to say about their hotel arrangements, or when savannah herself had a little too much to say about how it just had to be perfect, you were there, mitigating the worries and stressors and potential problems.
it had been a rewarding but draining couple of months.
savannah had seen that, had appreciated you even more because of it, so her and jack had planned this mini-vacation as a thank you for both of their wedding parties. the big day was next week, so this was supposed to be a final relaxing deep breath before the inevitable whirlwind of white lace and dress shoes and pink flowers.
and it would be relaxing, you were sure of it, you wouldn't let it not be, if only because your best friend wanted it to be so adamantly. it would be a perfect weekend vacation, the perfect cruise getaway, the perfect source of pre-wedding bliss.
it would be, it would be all of these things, as long as you stayed as far away from quinn hughes as was humanly possible.
the brother of the groom, the best man, your counterpart in the wedding, whom you had been fairly successful in avoiding whenever possible, all things considered. you'd been in the same friend group for years, after all, since the end of college. years of averted glances, charged comments that you pretended to ignore, of memories that left your cheeks hot and anger hotter.
you hadn't had a major blowout with him yet, and you were confident enough in your self-control to believe you wouldn't start now. you'd never been confined on a boat with him before, though, hadn't been stuck in a room with him without an escape plan, so that would present a new challenge.
what was every day in the periphery of quinn, though, if not a new challenge? a challenge more devastatingly taxing with each passing moment?
as you and your best friend boarded the ship together, you hoped that you could postpone seeing him for as long as possible. maybe if you stayed in your room the whole weekend, you wouldn't have to see him at all. wouldn't that be fun?
savannah dropped her stuff and told you she was going to find jack, leaving you to unpack your things and enjoy some moments of silence before what would surely be a tornado of a weekend.
unfortunately, as you folded your clothes and organized them in drawers, your mind wandered, with nothing to focus on but your anxieties. your anxiety, personified, in a broad, shaggy-haired, soft-featured best man.
you sighed, as you often did when you thought of quinn, because no, it hadn't always been this way. there had been a single, lovely, dreamy night during which the two of you hadn't hated each other. quite the opposite, actually.
it felt sort of unfair that, even now, years later, he could still evoke such a visceral feeling in you, a kind of hatred you felt in your stomach, a kind of shame that rattled through your skull, a regret that set your chest ablaze. and as much as it pained you to think it, it felt sort of unfair that savannah was getting married to jack, because you had known quinn first. it had been you and quinn, first.
it had been you and quinn, both of you at the just-off-campus bar alone, waiting for your respective friends to show up. you had spotted him across the room, his pretty face made so angelic by the hazy neon light. he had spotted you too, had been so unapologetic about letting his gaze settle in the pockets of your exposed collarbones, then flickering up to meet your careful eyes slowly, heatedly.
it had been you and quinn, in a back booth, once he'd bought you a beer and motioned for you to join him, a precise but easy tilt of his head in invitation. on that waxy bench seat, as time passed, you grew much closer together than you could have made a real excuse for, until the outside of your thigh was pressed up against his, until he angled his shoulder back so you could lean your side on his chest, until there was really no question as to where the night was going to go. where it was going to end.
until he rewrote the script you'd assumed into place, too, because when you talked with him for that hour or so, drinks practically forgotten on the table, friends absolutely forgotten, he wasn't like the one-night-onlys you'd had in the past.
he was pretty, sure, almost embarrassingly so, but he spoke to you so gently, with such care, it stunned you.
when he asked you about your day, you were shocked to find completely genuineness in his gaze.
when you asked about his friends, when they were showing up, you couldn't help but feel a little endeared by his short laugh. "athletes," he told you, then, "most unreliable people on the planet, doll, swear it."
it had been you and quinn, basically melting into each other, in that booth, and it had been you and quinn, at his place, after. when you'd discovered that he tasted like something citrusy, maybe grapefruit, from whatever he'd been drinking, when you'd felt his rough hands on your face, your hips, when his voice had grown low and husky and brutal, barely pausing for even a moment when he pushed into you for the first time, so overwhelmingly deep and hard.
he'd been so gentle, yet undeniable, so tender, but he'd said things that now made you blush.
he'd been the best fuck of your life, somehow also the kind of person you'd truly, genuinely, been able to see yourself developing a relationship with. you'd thought he was a once in a lifetime kind of person.
you'd left his place early that morning to get to class, kissed his shoulder softly in goodbye while he slept soundly.
little did you know that, that next night, savannah would meet jack, who was out with quinn. as such, savannah would introduce you to jack.
"this is my brother, quinn," jack would say to you, eventually, and your eyes would soften at the sight of him as you turned.
you would open your mouth to say something along the lines of oh, we've already met, but then quinn would extend a hand to you.
"nice to meet you," he'd say, stony, cold, and you'd narrow your eyes, search his gaze for anything humorous, come up empty. surely he remembered you, right? it was almost worse to imagine that he did remember, that he just didn't want his brother to know about you. it was almost worse to imagine that he thought you were something to be hidden.
so you'd swallow a breath that felt like a forbidden pill, stare at his outstretched hand with something like disgust.
"yeah, you too," you'd bite out, your hands remaining at your sides, hoping his empty hand felt awkward enough to hurt. "really nice."
so, as much as it had been you and quinn, starry-eyed in a back booth, as much as it had been you and quinn, tangled up in each other as your eyelids grew heavy with sleep, as much as it had been you and quinn, first -
it had also been you, embarrassed and ashamed, and quinn, expressionless and indifferent.
so, what did that night really matter, however life-altering you had thought it to be? he obviously didn't feel the same way. you obviously meant nothing to him.
you had thought that to be a very disappointing end to a chapter. you were ready to move on, but, of course, savannah and jack only grew closer. of course, your friend groups merged. of course, it seemed like you couldn't go more than a few days without an especially painful reminder of exactly how much you weren't wanted, exactly how mistaken you had been.
it had been several years now, and you'd gotten a little better at hiding your feelings, sure, but you wouldn't describe your relationship with quinn as civil. certainly not amicable.
you were both known to have an especially short temper when it came to the other, to become inexplicable hot-headed in their presence. still, no one, not even savannah, you assumed not even jack, knew exactly why. they just assumed you didn't get along. that you were just completely incompatible as people, probably.
now, you took a deep breath, putting the last of your clothes away, zipping up your suitcase and stowing it under your bed. you wouldn't let him ruin this trip for you, you decided in a moment. you would be kind, and lovely, and you'd enjoy the time with your best friends. everything was going to be fine. everything was going to be perfect.
this was the mindset you were carrying with you when you finally made to join everyone else on the deck for a welcome happy hour.
you quickly spotted your group, immediately locking eyes with your other best friend, lexi, who must have just arrived.
she squealed and pulled you in for a hug. "it's been too long," she whined, and you laughed.
"i missed you," you said, and you meant it. for the longest time, it had been you, savannah, and lexi, a trio for the majority of your time at university. guys came and went (for the most part), your circle expanded into friends from classes and clubs and sororities and such, but the three of you were inseparable.
it still felt weird that you didn't get to see them every day, with all of you at different places, some working, some in school. it felt weird that the real world still spun even if you three weren't cackling on the way into a lecture, whispering about lacrosse boy when he walked into a party, whining about midterms in the dining hall. it felt weird to grow up.
"i want to hear about school," you said as you pulled away from her embrace. "tell me everything."
"what, no hug for me, eh?"
you rolled your eyes, immediately recognizing that overconfident voice as jack's best friend.
"hello, nico," you said, sugary-sweet, mustering up a smile. "how's daddy's money treating you?" you didn't like nico, not really, found that he hadn't changed at all since school.
nico wasn't like quinn, though, he never took what you said in a heavy way. he just laughed, and his eyes shone with it. "business is thriving, thanks for asking," he said.
"so humble," came quinn's grumbly voice, somewhere on the line between light-hearted fun and genuine disapproval. you wondered briefly if nico had any more luck reading quinn than you did.
"oh, that's what they say," nico responded, running a hand through his longer dark hair. "the humblest around."
you caught up with lexi about medical school, learned it was somehow even more draining than she expected.
"i wouldn't be able to tell for a second," you assured her, gesturing to your face. "you look insanely well-rested. glowing, practically."
lexi waved you off, but she looked pleased. "don't lie," she chastised, "i wake up everyday and look like i got run over by a truck."
she told you about her classes, and her classmates, and her professors, and you listened intently, always interested to hear about situations you had no experience in.
"sounds hectic," you said, finally, blowing out a breath.
"eh, you know how it is," she responded with a shrug. just then, luke, jack's younger brother, arrived, looking especially disheveled, but you knew him well enough by now to understand that was just how he looked.
he was greeted with hugs and handshakes by everyone.
"you're so big, now," you said, almost teasingly, as you pulled him in for a hug.
he swatted at you, good-naturedly. "lay off, would you?" he said, but when he smiled it was genuine. "not a baby."
you knocked your hip against his, anyways. "happy you're here," you told him.
out of all of jack's groomsmen, you supposed luke was the clear frontrunner for your favorite. nico, the narcissistic playboy, was out of the running, and so was quinn, for obvious reasons.
even without those two, though, you'd developed a soft spot for the youngest of the hugheses. he was a couple of years your junior, but surprisingly mature and well-spoken. he was into football, like you were, too, and had invited you to join his fantasy league before he even knew you that well. now, years later, he came to you for girl advice and you thought of him as the younger brother you never had.
"me, too," luke responded, his eyes alight. when you looked away from him, however, you felt another gaze on your side like a blistering burn, were barely surprised to find quinn's rocky eyes on your side, somewhere between your hip and waist.
his attention sparked something dangerously flammable inside of you, an anger that felt like being coated in lighter fluid.
if quinn had been beautiful the day you'd met him, he was devastating, now, having aged in a subtle way that only enhanced his features, made his jaw sharper, cheekbones more prominent. his hair was a soft shag of brown, curling onto his forehead, at the nape of his neck, the tops of his ears. he'd filled out a bit, too, wider in the chest, softer in the middle. if you had to describe to someone your type, you figured you'd get maybe ten seconds in before realizing you were just describing quinn.
now, his eyes met yours in a clash of flame and ancient rock, immovable and disastrous.
coward, you seemed to say without words, mean, rude, coward.
and, as always, he seemed to say absolutely nothing.
you were being kind, though, you were being lovely, so you just rolled your eyes and made to join savannah and lexi as they chatted by the bar.
the sun set over the distant sky line, making the sea ripple purple and orange as music played from the deck, as more and more people seemed to gather, as drinks flowed easier and voices grew louder.
you caught up with luke about his last year of school, listened to nico talk about his last girlfriend (who he insisted was really, truly crazy, as he had claimed about the last girl, and the one before that), asked jack about how work was going and savannah how her cats were doing. you were including everyone, you were being a wonderful maid of honor, you were being kind and lovely, all while quinn remained oddly quiet, talking only when directly addressed, every now and then looking at you with an intensity that made you dizzy.
what are you doing? you wanted to scream at him, you're not allowed to look at me!
he didn't seem to particularly care about your unspoken wishes, anyways, though you supposed he never had. he just took small sips from his fruity cocktail, and you pretended not to notice how it made his pouty lips more pink, like he was wearing a shimmery gloss. you hated yourself for the way your stomach flipped at the sight.
"so, how's your week been, q?" luke asked him, eventually, taunting him with a smile. "awfully quiet over there. what're you hiding?"
and you shouldn't have done it, it was not very lovely and kind of you, but you gave a light scoff at this. because you knew just how good quinn was a hiding things. people, even.
of course, he noticed. he seemed to notice just about everything, when it came to you, ever the perceptive observer. it was something you'd adored about him, for a night.
"what?" quinn bit out, and he wasn't looking at luke, instead looking directly at you. "got something to say, doll?"
you felt your eye twitch, only just barely, because out of all of his mannerisms and actions that drove you absolutely crazy, this one might be your least favorite. how, after all this time, he still rarely called you anything but doll.
how, now, it was said with such condescending distaste, when it had once been 'm dyin' to kiss you, doll, murmured in a bedroom doorframe. when it had once been give me one more, doll, hm? be good for me, hot against your temple.
"nothing, quinn," you said, with a smile that felt more similar to baring teeth, his name some malicious hex. "don't worry about it."
there was a brief pause charged with meaning, his slate-like eyes boring into yours.
you were the first to look away, to look down at your hand before he finally answered luke's question, went into some noncommittal explanation about work.
eventually, somehow, the conversation veered towards wedding dates.
"wait," savannah said, pausing as if having trouble understanding. "you're telling me that out of all of you, both wedding parties, the only one with a plus-one is luke? and it's not even a date?"
"mackie still counts," luke said, shrugging. "no one said we weren't allowed to bring friends."
"regardless," savannah said, exasperated. "how did this happen?"
nico grinned. "not all of us can be so easily tied down, sav," he said with a wink, to which you and lexi groaned.
"oh, what?" nico retorted, looking at the two of you, "if it really matters, i'll bring a date. hell, i'll bring four dates."
you shook your head vigorously. "do not bring four dates. please do not bring four dates."
"do not make our wedding an episode of the bachelor, nico," savannah warned. "but you guys should bring someone!" her eyes grew wide with excitement. "you could even find someone on the boat!"
lexi whistled.
"do we really want a bunch of strangers at our wedding?" jack mused, joking.
"oh, hush," savannah said, laying a hand on his forearm.
he smiled. "you're right," he conceded, "not like this lot could find dates anyways."
the only people who seemed especially opposed to jack's judgement were nico and lexi.
you just shrugged. you didn't really want to bring a date to the wedding, because you didn't have a serious boyfriend, right now, and you didn't want to invite someone you weren't serious about. you could find a date, sure, it wouldn't be too hard, but that would just be another person to entertain for a night during which you were already going to be pulled in a million different directions.
"okay, so lex and nico are going to find dates," savannah said, then turned to you, "what about you?"
"i'm good, sav," you said, plainly, cordially, with a smile that she returned. you knew that she just wanted you to be happy, and that it probably hurt her to imagine you lonely.
"or you, quinn?" savannah continued.
you fixed your eyes on him, too, as did the rest of the table. as much as you maybe shouldn't have been, you were straining to hear his answer.
"yeah, didn't you say you were thinking of bringing someone? what was her name, again?" jack asked, snapping his fingers as if trying to summon his memory.
terrible envy bubbled through your veins, thick and green, at the mention of quinn wanting someone who wasn't you. at the reminder that he was fully capable of wanting someone, he just hadn't wanted you.
quinn's eyes flashed with something dangerous. "i never told you i was thinking of bringing someone," he told his brother, sounding almost annoyed, his tone sharp.
jack's half-smile told you he knew something you didn't. "my bad," he said, "must've forgotten."
quinn's full mouth twitched to the side, almost undetectable, but of course you noticed. he looked almost angry that jack had suggested that he bring a date. there was the faintest pink across his nose, too, as if he was almost embarrassed.
something heavy settled in your chest, made your throat tight, because you knew what it was like to be embarrassed in a group. to want something so adamantly and have it go the other way in front of your eyes.
as if pulled by some magnetic force, some power fueled by history and shed tears, quinn's eyes briefly met yours, like you were the calm in some hurricane, like you tethered him to the world. for a second, you remembered just what it felt like to be his. just how consuming it was.
but you weren't his, you reminded yourself. so, of course, the anger followed, along with a bloodthirsty self-loathing at your momentary protection of him, your fleeting feelings of sympathy.
you weren't his, and yet he was looking at you now like he was begging you to do something.
"you know what, sav?" you said, although you were looking right at quinn, "changed my mind. think i'll bring a date, actually."
it was quinn's turn to scoff, which had rage rolling in your head like high tide. "yeah, right," he said. "you haven't been with someone in years, doll."
you furrowed your brow, because that just wasn't true, flat out. did quinn actually think you hadn't been with guys since you'd had him?
lexi was the one to laugh. "what're you on about, quinn?" she said. "what planet have you been living on?"
"you think i call you up as soon as i scratch another notch in my bedpost?" you asked, incredulous. "course i've been with guys."
a million emotions rumbled through his eyes like a slow-building earthquake, which made realization spark in your head.
"unless," you started, "unless you haven't been with-"
"i'll bet that you don't end the weekend with a date, then," quinn said, cutting you off as you'd gotten dangerously close to saying something incriminating, something he didn't want others to know.
it took no convincing from you to agree to his bet, even if nico and luke were nudging you on. "you're on," you said, your voice lower than you anticipated.
he hummed, ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, cocked his head in a way that made your nerves spring to life. "and what do i get when i win?"
he said the words like he knew exactly how you'd take them. in a way that made everything else fade away, for a moment, made you forget your audience of friends, made the music lull to a halt in your ears, made the massive deck of this boat feel altogether too small.
"what do you want?" you asked, almost blushed at how rough your voice sounded, promptly cleared your throat again.
his heavy gaze dropped to your mouth, making warning sirens blare in your head. making you so, so angry.
"decide the terms later," jack said, obviously done with this topic, which really only concerned you and quinn, "deal or no deal?"
quinn extended a hand to you in answer, which you stared at for a second, suddenly delirious with deja vu. remembering when he had last went looking for a handshake.
this time, though, you took it, squeezed it so tight you hoped it hurt, although he didn't even wince, held eye contact with you the entire time.
"eager to lose, eh, doll?" he asked, his eyes shining.
"you know me," you said, then, "just so eager." knowing exactly how he would take it. in a way that had his eyes glazing over, just a bit, perhaps had phantom breaths of please, quinn, give me all of it echoing in his mind.
and so your weekend getaway began with a wager.
still, you didn't want your heightening anger towards quinn to take over your vacation, so, the following day, you went about your way as you had been planning on.
you ate breakfast with lexi, explored the boat with sav and luke, finally settled down to read by the pool in the late afternoon.
the sun was bright and big in the sky, so you untied the straps of your swimsuit, so as to avoid tan lines. time passed as you flipped pages, engrossed in your book, until you felt the heat on your body like a scratchy sweater.
at some point, you felt a figure next to you, a big body with a face you couldn't see until you brought a hand up to shield your eyes.
the man blocking the sun from you was a little jarring in his beauty, you realized. handsome in a very different way than what you were usually attracted to. he had curly, curly hair, almost red in the light, a symmetrical face, a prominent gap in his two front teeth that you had the sneaking suspicion he used to his advantage.
he had you smiling up at him, nonetheless. "can i help you, handsome?" you asked.
his mouth quirked at your words as his features settled into a theatrical expression. "you're sweet, princess, but i was actually hoping to help you."
you hummed, bent one knee up until the sole of your foot rested flat on your lounge chair. "were you, now?" maybe this whole finding a wedding date business was going to be even easier than you initially thought.
the handsome stranger squatted down until his hips rested back on his heels, until he was eye level with you. like he didn't want to look down at you. like you were even lovelier head on. he raised a wide hand to one side of his mouth, as if telling you some great secret at a cafeteria lunch table. "just wanted to warn you that your straps are untied," he whispered, gesturing with his other hand to his own shoulders. his smirk told you that he knew it was intentional.
you made no move to retie them, let out a small laugh. "my knight in shining armor, hm?"
his shoulders rose and fell in a telling chuckle. "either that or i just wanted an excuse to come over here," he said. "'m matthew."
"'m flattered, matthew," you said, then gave him your own name. "you don't seem like a guy who needs an excuse, though."
his smirk grew wide. "what do i seem like, then, princess?"
you tilted your head to the side, thought for a moment. "don't know," you admitted, "got the smile of a charmer, though, give you that."
matthew appeared about to respond, but was cut off by the approach of a figure to the other side of your chair, standing at full height, looking down at you and your new acquaintance.
a figure you'd know in the dark, a presence you'd sense while unconscious. quinn drew both of your attention, but said nothing. you pursed your lips.
"what's up, man?" said matthew, maybe a little unsure, in a tone that sort of felt like he was making fun of quinn. "all good?" he didn't push back up to his full height, which you found hilarious and endearing. how he didn't seem even the tiniest bit threatened by quinn, when it was so painfully obvious that he was trying so hard to appear threatening.
you peered up at him, found his blatant discomfort and indecision especially unsettling. "what do you want, quinn?" you asked, annoyance creeping into your voice like moss on a damp rock.
"you know this guy?" matthew said, his grin that of a class clown.
"do you know this guy, doll?" quinn retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, and you rolled your eyes, set your book down beside you.
"quinn, this is matthew," you said, gesturing between the two of them. "matthew, quinn."
quinn didn't move, but matthew's smile grew taunting as he extended his hand out for a handshake.
a handshake that quinn just stared at, briefly, did not make a move to reciprocate, his gaze so solid, relentlessly cold. you could have slapped him, if you didn't have an audience.
matthew just laughed, retracted his hand, finally stood up. "well, i guess i'll be seeing you around, princess," he said, looking right at you.
"until then, matthew," you responded, an easy smile on your face.
he gave you one last charismatic smile before looking to quinn again. "you've been a treat, quinn," he said, little more than a chuckle, raising a hand in goodbye before turning and walking away.
when he was out of ear shot, you looked up at quinn, ignoring the way the sun lit up the high points of his face. "so," you began, dangling one leg off of your chair, pulling the other up to your chest. "when did you officially lose your goddamn mind?"
he scrunched his mouth to the side as if tasting something sour. "haven't gone crazy," he said, basically a grumble, "thought he was bothering you."
you laughed, genuinely, from your stomach.
"what?" he said, and it was sharp, heavy.
"babe, is this guy bothering you?" you said, imitating a comically deep masculine voice before returning to your usual tone. you retied the straps of your swimsuit, not looking at him. "get real. since when do you give a fuck about me?"
he didn't answer, just shifted on his feet slightly, which made the muscles of his thighs tense. you could feel his anger building, looming like some poisonous cloud around the two of you. he was flushed, and you had a feeling it was some lethal combination of embarrassment and fury. it made his eyes almost glow, made his shoulders clench with strain.
"jesus, don't hurt yourself," you said, eyeing the tension that radiated from his body. "not a good look on you."
this made him intimidating, somehow, made the difference in height between the two of you feel substantial, significant. "really, doll?" he said, with a bite that you could taste. history made its stinging presence known between the two of you, made the air sizzle. "don't like me like this?"
you wanted to punch him the stomach, made him hunch over, bring him to your level so he didn't feel so high and mighty. who was he, now, to hint at your history? when he had denied it so grossly before?
you were not the one in the wrong here, you remembered, he was the one who had approached you.
"no," you said, through clenched teeth, "no, quinn, i don't like you jealous."
this seemed to set his anger loose, as you had expected it to, his fists now tight at his sides. "i am not jealous," he said, slowly, almost scarily. "maybe if you weren't showing yourself off like a-"
you stood up, then, your pulse in your ears, your heart in your throat. you laid a warning hand on his chest, the closest you'd been in a long time. "oh, you aren't really about to call me a slut, are you, quinn?" you warned, like a storm siren.
his gaze shot down to your hand before returning to your unwavering eyes again.
"are you?" you pressed, with the strength of practiced patience. he still said nothing, which made you want to pound your fists on his chest, get him to say something, anything. how tired and frustrated you were of his silence. "where do you get off playing tough-guy savior, anyways?" you continued. "you've got no say in who i talk to, just because you've been celibate, apparently, which is absolutely insane-"
"'m not playing anything," was his short response, which had you fuming.
"you're no tough guy, quinn," you said, "you're a coward."
your eyes widened when his smoldered, as he brought a hand up to your face, swiped his warm thumb across your jawline. you would have smacked his hand away, you swore it, but you were lost for a moment, drowning in the touch you'd craved for longer than you cared to admit. "and you're desperate, doll," he breathed, like some terrible caress, "where does that leave us?"
his words barreled through you like a battering ram, cruel and sadistic. because what were you most ashamed of, if not seeming desperate to his indifferent? what were you questioning most, if not where that left you?
it had been you and quinn, first. could you truly say it had ever been over?
he dropped his hand from your face, leaving you cold, lacking, all over again. leaving your breath coming out a little bit short, your lips slightly parted. because as much as his words cut through you like a dagger to the chest, he said them with such softness, such warmth.
making it so painfully clear in your mind just how much you still wanted him, even if he drove you mad. even if he was exactly the reason behind so many of your fears.
"i hate you," you said, but of course you didn't mean it.
"i hate you," he said, but of course he was lying.
your body and mind were still buzzing, practically alight, that night, when sav and jack decided your whole group should go out, try the ship's nightclub on for a few hours.
and you probably would have politely declined, in any other scenario. you didn't go out that much now, not like you did in school, at least. in recent history, you'd found yourself much more attracted to a night in on the couch than a bass-boosted speaker in your ear. however, you supposed, you wouldn't be able to really relax tonight, anyways, not when your blood felt hot in your body, when your fingertips felt as if they were laced with electrical currents.
you felt almost ill with energy, crazed with some awful mixture of shame and desire and annoyance and disgust.
and you sort of hated yourself for how practically demented quinn's touch made you feel, how deranged his undivided attention made you.
it was so, so unfair, and you wished it wouldn't be true. but it was, so you figured you might as well use this energy while you had it, might as well lean heavily into this version of yourself. this version of yourself, whose emotions were blown up, heightened to a magnificent level.
this you, who felt embarrassment like rosy handcuffs around her wrists, who felt want like a leaden crown, satisfaction like a bubbly drink, displeasure like a hand around your neck. who felt danger and challenge like some intoxicating drug.
it was this you who pulled on a tight, short dress, who spent a few more minutes than usual lining and glossing your lips. maybe it wasn't the most level-headed you'd ever been, sure, but you couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so utterly alive.
"holy shit," lexi said when she opened her door, found you waiting to walk down with her, "you look insane."
you smiled. "good insane or insane insane?"
lexi grabbed her small bag and shut the door behind her. "oh, please," she said, waving you off. "almost forgot that you're workin' with all that," she added, which made you laugh.
once the two of you made your way inside, you looked around for your friends, quickly spotted luke sitting at a table with sav and jack.
sav whistled at the two of you as you approached. "holy smokes," she said.
"oh, stop it," lexi teased, making to sit down next to her.
you just leaned on the side of luke's stool, knocked your shoulder into his. "past your bedtime, eh?" you joked.
he rolled his eyes, smiled. "what brings you out of your cave?" he mused. he knew how much it took for you to venture from your room.
you just shrugged. "what if i just wanted to see you?"
he gave a disbelieving shake of his head before tilting it up to look at you head on. "heard you and q had quite the blowout at the pool."
you narrowed your eyes. "wouldn't call it a blowout," you said, and you meant it, because you could have done so much worse. "who told you that, anyways?"
he scoffed. "who do you think?"
you scrunched up your face. you knew how close quinn and luke were, but, somehow, it still surprised you that he had told anyone about what had happened at the pool. it felt weird that, after refusing to acknowledge what had happened between you, he'd tell luke anything about you.
it made you wonder just how much he had disclosed, if luke knew much more than he was letting on.
"what did he tell you?" you asked, curiosity overtaking any of your discipline.
the youngest hughes just gave you a big grin, though, like he'd caught you in something. "i forget," he said, and you hit him lightly on the arm.
you turned your attention back to the table. "where's nico?" you asked, as he was the only one from the group you hadn't really seen that day. you didn't ask where quinn was, even though you really, really wanted to know. was he even here? did he stay in his room, like you had wanted to?
jack gestured vaguely. "haven't seen him since we got here."
"'s probably pretty busy," sav added, "i think the last time i saw him he was up to three wedding dates."
lexi groaned while you hid your face in luke's shoulder for a second.
you sighed, then pushed yourself out of your lean.
"where're you going?" luke asked you.
"to save the feminine population of this cruise ship from hurricane nico," you answered, before patting the top of his head and making for the bar.
the music was louder, away from the tables and closer to the dance floor, crowded with people in bold colors and daring cuts.
you leaned forward on the counter, raised a hand to catch the bartender's attention. the man with the platinum buzzcut nodded to you to signal that he'd be right there.
"how'd you escape your keeper?" a goofy voice said from beside you, and you recognized the confident tone before you even turned.
"good to see you again, matthew," you said, peering up at him with an easy smile. "and i have my ways."
"i don't doubt that, princess, i don't doubt that," he conceded, his grin revealing that gap between his front teeth.
"thanks for waiting," the bartender said, now in front of you two, adjusting his black bowtie. "to drink?"
"two of whatever she's having," matthew said.
"vodka soda, please," you clarified, opening your mouth to protest when matthew wouldn't let you pay.
"let me get this one, hm?" he asked, and he was so steady you knew he wouldn't budge.
you blew out a breath like you were annoyed, but the thought was sweet. "fine," you said, "just this once. thank you."
"anytime," was his immediately reply as the bartender dropped the two glasses in front of each of you.
"thank you," you said to the blonde, eyes searching for his name tag, "elias."
he gave a curt nod in response before being summoned by another patron.
you turned, now leaned your back against the bar counter, crossed an ankle over the other as you again looked at matthew.
"did i mention how beautiful you look?" he said, a lazy smirk on his face, telling you he'd used this line before. it brought a delighted flush to your cheeks, nonetheless.
"that one's a heater," you said, "bet it works on all the girls." you took a sip from your cold glass, found it strong and sharp.
"not all of 'em, apparently," he said, and you let out a laugh.
you chatted pleasantly with matthew for a while, your mission to find nico long forgotten.
fortunately, at some point, you were surprised to see nico himself approach the two of you where you stood, his gait as overconfident as his expression.
"who's this guy?" matthew whispered, his breath hot by your ear as he leaned down. you shivered, could feel his sly smile.
"a clown," you whispered back.
matthew hummed. "you seem to know a lot of those, eh, princess?"
and it shocked you, sort of, how part of you jumped to defend quinn. how part of you wanted to explain to matthew, however stupidly, that quinn wasn't a clown, he wasn't dumb, he wasn't like nico.
what did it matter if this almost stranger thought quinn was an idiot? hadn't he made a fool of himself just today?
"hey, nico," you said, when he was close enough. "meant to look for you." your side glance had you locking eyes with matthew again, warm and inviting. "got distracted."
"no worries at all, no worries at all," nico responded, "i've just been sent over by a certain quinn hughes to see what was going on here, but, as he should have known, i am no errand boy." he gave matthew a knowing look. "and you seem like a great guy." nico's mouth gave an impressed sort of scrunch. "good face, too."
"i like this guy much more," matthew said, elbowing you gently, although you were having a bit of a hard time focusing.
because you'd warned quinn about leaving you be, warned him that he had absolutely and completely forfeited any opinion to be had about your life. and yet, just hours later, apparently, he hadn't learned his lesson.
"where is he?" you bit out, and you had a feeling your smile looked menacing. at least menacing enough to make nico do a double take. "eh, over there," he said, motioning over to the dance floor.
sure enough, your eyes caught on quinn's broad figure, practically indistinguishable from the one close to him, the girl he was dancing with. you rolled your eyes, turned to matthew with sympathy.
he seemed to be anticipating your words, if his slightly disappointed sigh was anything to go by. "well, the keeper calls," he joked, and his easy-going smile made you feel almost sick.
because here was this lovely person, right in front of you, so obvious about his attraction to you. and yet, you were walking away from him. the very thought made anger thrum within you.
"i'm sorry," you said, and it was genuine.
matthew gave a one-shouldered shrug. "don't be," he said, "i'm lucky i even got to see you in that dress." he winked at you before turning to walk away.
you were silent for a moment, blinking.
nico, who'd you'd forgotten had even been there, blew out a breath. "hell," he said, shaking his head, "that guy was a smoke."
"how many dates are you at?" you said, your eyeline still firmly on quinn, on the beautiful blonde girl he was dancing with. you stirred your halfway empty drink.
nico shrugged. "lost track," he said, "why? wanna borrow one?"
"maybe later," you said, then pushed yourself from the counter and began to make your way across the room.
the walk felt much longer than it was, as if a chasm had opened up between you and quinn, jagged rocks lining the walls, some treacherous river running through your legs, drenching your heels.
the walk felt longer than it was, but then you were in front of quinn, and the beautiful girl.
you tapped her on the shoulder, first. "could you move to the side for a second, babe?" you asked, completely apologetic. "don't wanna ruin your dress."
her features scrunched in confusion, but she stepped to the side, as you'd asked. you shot her a grateful look before turning to face quinn, meeting his eye.
you were almost shocked to find warmth, there, so unlike the stony coldness you'd expected from him.
still, you just gave him a facetious smile, short, snarky, before tossing the remnants of your drink at him.
it hit him square in the face, better aimed than you could have hoped. liquid dripped from the strong slope of his nose, down his jaw, soaking his white button down near the collar.
the blonde gasped, brought a hand to her mouth in shock.
you turned briefly to her. "'m sorry for the interruption," you said, genuinely. "you look gorgeous."
as quinn ran a slow hand down his face, wiping alcohol from his forehead, cheeks, you hummed and began to walk away, your stride satisfied as you made for the exit.
you dropped your glass on a table, walked through the doorway, onto the deck of the ship, the darkness of the night, sudden quiet a welcomed change of pace.
you had only just taken a breath when you felt a grip on your wrist, firm but not painful.
"just fuck off, won't you, quinn?" you said, just about done for the night. he just pulled you aside, boxed you against the railing on the deck, the noise of the sea in harmony with the faded beat of the club's mix.
you were so, so, done. you hadn't really wanted to come out, anyways, and then, when you were finally having a good time, he had to go and ruin it, send nico over to check in on you, like you needed some kind of babysitter.
he scoffed, a sound that felt beautiful in your ears, somehow. "think you can just walk away, after a stunt like that?" he said the words like they meant something deeper than just their surface meaning, but you couldn't, for the life of you, figure it out.
you blew out a breath, met his gaze directly.
you probably should have known by now that if there was one word to describe quinn, it was unfair.
unfair, how, drenched in a drink you tossed at him, he still looked this pretty. his hair damp, evident that he had run his hands through it. his features almost enhanced by the liquid that shone on them, his shirt practically sheer, now, drawing attention to his broad chest, corded shoulders. unfair.
maybe you had been wrong. maybe you couldn't handle this weekend. you'd been able to escape him before, for years, always had an easy out during gatherings with friends, always had something else to focus on.
he was everywhere here. he was unavoidable. he was inside your head, whispering in your ear. he was a phantom grapefruit taste on your tongue.
here, you were basically back in his bed, two years ago, back in that bar booth. here, you were surrounded by him.
"you sent nico to spy on me," you said, each word pronounced perfectly clear. you clenched your fists tight as if to restrain them. "how many times do i need to tell you, quinn? who i fuck is none of your business!"
he let out a noise that was half-growl. "you wanted him?" he asked, low and loaded, so painfully so it made your stomach drop.
"what does it matter?" you said. "i can't even speak to someone on this boat, apparently, without you breathing down my neck!"
"it matters," was his reply, spoken so softly, with a cutting bite. "it matters, doll."
you narrowed your eyes, searched his face for some clue. droplets of liquid still clung to his lashes, making his gaze impossibly beautiful.
"it shouldn't," you said, careful. "i'm desperate, remember?" your eyes widened in false despair. "don't you remember, quinn?"
his gaze dropped momentarily to your mouth, hung there just long enough for you to notice. "i remember," he said, so gently it shocked you. like he wasn't just talking about today.
the sea air suddenly felt hot, despite the windy chill. you were acutely aware of how close he was to you, his arms on either side of your waist, boxing you against the railing, his bent knee just barely grazing yours. the warmth of him like a radiator, the smell of him overwhelming.
"enough with the overprotective act," you demanded, willing any shake from your voice. "it has to stop, quinn, i can't do it."
"you can't do it?" he asked, calculated, incredulous. "you can't do it?"
you let out an exasperated huff. "what are you saying?" you pleaded. "jesus, fuck, quinn, all you do is stare and stare and stare and say nothing!"
"what am i supposed to say?" he said, gesturing vaguely around. "what could i ever say to you?"
"maybe try something true!" you said. "give that a shot!" your volume was much too loud, and there were probably people around, but you didn't really care, couldn't even register their presence. as always, with him, no one else seemed to matter, to even exist.
you could feel his chest rise and fall against yours for a moment, a pause so thick it almost felt suffocating. "it hurts to look at you," he said, finally.
and it would have been mean, would have been some cheap shot at calling you ugly, if his voice hadn't broken halfway through. if it hadn't seemed to be the hurt that was really the point.
his arms at your sides felt like something scandalous.
"and yet all you do is stare," you said, almost drowsily. "must be doin' a whole lot of hurting, over there."
something that felt like truth rose and fell between the two of you, light as the salty breeze, dark as the deep water below.
"does it hurt, now?" you breathed, your face so close to his as you peered up at him through your lashes.
his exhale felt like a million words, all jumbled up, offered up to you on a silver platter. he looked almost haggard. "so much, doll," he practically whined, and you wanted to taste his confession on your tongue, wanted to know what his honesty felt like on your lips. if it would feel the same as it did those years ago, if it would feel better.
you raised a careful, delicate hand to his damp face, brushed your fingertips along his hairline, slowly, almost mesmerized. he looked so beautiful, then, the faint light of the deck in contrast with the night making his face angelic in a terrible sort of way. "tell me you hate me," you said, little more than a whisper.
he gave an almost undetectable shake of his head, a rogue lock of hair curling into his face. "i can't," he said, soft, pulled into a trance by your ghost of a touch.
his full lips were so close to yours, and you angled your head slightly to made room for him, wanted all of him just so badly-
"no!" came a loud protesting voice that you immediately recognized as savannah. "do not throw her overboard!"
the two of you bolted apart from each other, a few feet between you, now. your pulse was still a pounding thud in your head, though, your body a sack of candy conversation hearts in all of its deliriousness.
you supposed it would look fairly suspicious, quinn so close to you, his hands so close to you, against the railing of the ship. maybe it did look like he was going to toss you over the edge. you could have laughed at how ridiculous the reality was.
savannah now stood in front of the two of you. you couldn't look at quinn, deathly afraid of what you would find if you did.
"what the hell was that, in there?" savannah demanded, gesturing wildly to where she had come from. she fixed her eyes on you. "since when are you a drink-thrower?"
you mumbled something like since a few minutes ago, i guess.
she huffed, turned to quinn. "and i hear you're sending nico on errands to do your dirty work for you?"
quinn looked at his feet, shifted his weight slightly. "wouldn't call it dirty work," he grumbled.
your best friend took a deep breath. "i understand that you guys don't really get along," she said, evenly.
quinn's gaze shot to you for a second, but you didn't return his attentive stare. you have no idea, you wanted to tell savannah.
"and i guess i should have known better than to trap you guys on a boat for a weekend, but you're adults! and the wedding is in less than a week," she continued, not angry but obviously frustrated. "i'm the one who's supposed to have a meltdown on wedding day, okay? not you two."
"sorry, sav," you said, and you felt bad, really.
she waved her hand. "it's my fault, too," she said, "just, i don't know, sleep this off and tomorrow you'll be able to get off this boat. think we're docking for a few hours, or something."
you sighed, snuck one last look at quinn like a last bite of a shared dessert. evidence of emotion just barely hid under his casual mask, evidence of being affected by you.
"i'll do better, okay?" you said, just to savannah, as you passed her, pulled her in for a quick hug in apology. "i promise."
she hugged you back. "i know it's not just you," she whispered into you ear. "and i trust you."
you nodded, squeezed her a last time before making the trek back up to your room. you passed jack, waiting just off to the side, keeping an eye on savannah, presumably.
"goodnight," you said to him, giving him a feeble wave.
he offered you a smile. "don't tell him i said this," he whispered, "that was one of the best things i've seen in my life."
you rolled your eyes at him as he bid you a returning goodnight.
you spotted lexi, sitting at a table just outside of the club entrance, your eyes widening when you recognized the blonde in her lap as the girl quinn had been dancing with. you smiled, slightly. they looked lost in conversation. they looked good together.
as you turned the corner to the stairwell, you almost jumped, then brought a hand to your heart, let out an alarmed exhale before recognizing nico, making out with a girl against the stair railing in an almost violent way.
you tried to squeeze past the two of them, eventually giving him a light shove. "move, nico," you whisper-yelled at him.
when you finally got past him and up the stairs, you were only a few steps from your door, finally closing yourself back into your room, exhaling a heavy breath, slipping off your heels.
you didn't quite make it to your bed, instead opting to fold a leg underneath you on the floor, lean back against the side of the mattress.
you weren't really sure why you suddenly felt that undeniable pressure on your waterline, that heat at the edges of your face that signaled coming tears.
the breeze through your window was a calming chill as you ran your palms up and down your thighs, trying to bring your breathing back to normal.
it felt like your heart was ten times its normal size, like it was so heavy it was sinking down into your stomach, like an anchor into the ocean waves.
your mind was a flurried rainstorm of quinn's hand on your wrist, his arms by your sides, his chest through his button down. his parted lips, so close to yours, his eyes, so unlike the fixed iciness you'd grown used to from him.
tell me you hate me, you'd asked him, practically begged him, your tone a sinful sort of plea.
i can't, he'd answered, like your request for the truth was some binding promise, like your pure want was some altar-laid sacrifice.
you went to sleep that night jittery, dreamed of slate eyes and stolen touches, glances that meant something stark.
of course, the next day, the last full day of the cruise, your energy had not dissipated. it left you just as uncertain and edgy as ever, because now, you wondered what quinn would do when he saw you.
more probable than not, you knew, he would do nothing. he would probably pretend like, just last night, he hadn't been about to kiss you, like he hadn't confessed to something monumental.
he would probably revert right back to staring, staring, staring, and nothing more. he might even revert back to hating you, for all you knew.
and then there was the part of you, a scary, maybe delusional part of you, that believed that maybe last night had changed something. that maybe he would do more than just look, that maybe you'd do more than just fight, that maybe this time would be different.
oh, how you wanted it to be different.
it had been you and quinn, first. how you wanted it to be you and quinn, now.
at the very least, you thought, as you got ready to leave, you'd have a way out, this time. you were finally getting off the boat, going to the beach for a few hours.
if he got to be too much, you could just walk away, this time, like you had grown used to in the past.
it was this positive outlook that you clung to as you made your way off of the boat, meeting up with luke on the stairs.
"and where were you last night?" you asked, after greeting him, raising a questioning brow.
he gave a playful eye roll. "no where as exciting as you," he said, teasing. "almost getting tossed overboard, and all."
you smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "i did not almost get thrown overboard," you clarified, "i was having a civilized discussion with your brother."
luke hummed. "were you?" he asked, "not quite what i heard."
"when did you become such a gossip, hm?" you pestered, stepping off onto the dock, exhaling with slight relief at the feeling of solid ground underneath your feet.
he shrugged. "people tell me stuff," he said, simply. he didn't have to clarify who people were.
you narrowed your eyes. "how much stuff?"
luke met your gaze, and there was an understanding there that scared you. "enough," he said.
you looked at your feet as you stepped onto the sand, found it warm, calming. "oh, great," you mumbled. you could only imagine what quinn must have said about you. how desperate and deluded you were, how you had gotten so attached to him after a single night, how you'd suddenly grown so malicious towards him as soon as he didn't return your feelings. your head hung, just a bit, because you hated to think that luke, someone you trusted and cared about so much, would think this of you, just from hearing it from quinn. "shocked that you even hang out with me, then, honestly."
you could feel luke's gaze on you like the sun. he cleared his throat, making you look up at him. "think, uh," he began, scratching the back of his neck in a nervous sort of habit. "think maybe you should just talk to him."
you laughed, spotting savannah and jack setting up an umbrella further down the beach. "because that's worked so well for us," you joked, but your heart jumped in your throat. because, oh, how easy it felt to refer to yourself and quinn as an us.
luke just shrugged. "it's worked better than the alternative," he said, putting his towel down before making to help jack with beach chairs.
his words stuck with you, suspended in your mind, for a moment, because he was right. you realized, however painfully, that you would prefer a screaming match with quinn by the pool to silent staring across the room at a gathering with your friends.
you'd take an excruciating argument with him over feigned, false civility any day of the week.
there you stood, your feet in the sand, looking out at the water, and you finally understood that you'd take all of the ugly, all of the hurt, all of the cold, if only it'd give you all of him.
"uh, you good?" sav said, giving you a confused look as she registered your quiet stillness.
you shook yourself from your mind, smiled at her. "all good," you said, and it was true.
lexi joined with the blonde from the night before in tow, whom she announced as erin.
you gave erin a guilty smile when you introduced yourself. "sorry again about last night," you said.
erin waved you off. "don't worry about it," she said, "that was the most dramatic night out i've had in forever."
she set up her towel next to you and lexi, and you quickly found how easy she was to talk to.
nico ambled his way down, at some point, eyes hidden behind massive sunglasses, a baseball cap on his head, a giant hoodie on despite the heat.
jack laughed when he got close enough. "the feds onto you, or something?" he said, referring to nico's ridiculous getup.
nico's pretty face contorted into a scowl. "i'm never drinking again," was his rough reply as he sat down on a towel, practically hissing at the bright light of the sun.
"yeah, right," you laughed. "you said that last time."
"fuck off," nico grumbled, hanging his head between his bent legs.
"oh, don't be mean, nico," savannah said, "it's not our fault you can't hold your tequila."
luke's face scrunched up is distaste. "you were drinking tequila last night?" he asked, "when did you join delta gamma?"
nico made to protest, but you didn't hear it, not really, because you were distracted.
your attention had strayed to where quinn now stood, right beside luke's chair. his approach had been silent, practically stealthy, but he was here, and he was looking at you.
the conversation around you seemed to fade away, to dip down deep below the gentle waves that lapped at the shoreline.
it was still a shock to your system every time you saw him, even though you'd known each other for so long. maybe it was an even greater shock, now, because you weren't quite used to seeing so much of him, of getting so much of him, on back to back to back days.
after being practically starved of him, or at least of his true emotions, this weekend had felt like being drowned in him, held under the water by your throat until your vision swam and your chest was on the edge of exploding.
it didn't help that the way he looked, now, in broad daylight, was so brutally stunning that it stole your breath.
he looked almost weary, the shadows of his face defined and sharp, his jaw rough with stubble. maybe he'd tossed and turned all night, as you had? maybe he'd dreamed of you, too?
your languished gaze caught slowly on his bare arms, returned reluctantly back to his face. he appeared to be just barely on the cusp of, well, something, spurred on by your obvious attention, something alight in his eyes that made your stomach flip.
you felt your cheeks grow hot, bit your lip, slightly. when he was looking at you, like this, you could all but hear his firm rasp in your ear, feel his callused hand tug at your hair.
you looked away, down at your hands, afraid that your eyes were giving too much away, afraid that he could somehow tell exactly what you were thinking, exactly what memories his presence was bringing to mind.
everything felt overheated, and not just because of the sun.
time passed at an agonizing pace. hours during which you could sense when he was looking at you, could feel his stare like a bullet to the heart. during which you would occasionally look back, meet his heated, cryptic eyes, silently beg him to do something, to do anything.
but, for hours, he didn't, and you grew angrier, more fiery with every passing second.
of course he would do nothing, you tried to rationalize, this was quinn you were talking about. this was quinn, in front of all of his friends, so of course he would pretend like you were barely there.
the hurt of it all made you feel almost seasick, woozy and disbelieving, mentally grasping wildly for something to grab on to.
the hurt of him made you seasick, the whole of him made you lovesick, but what did it matter, you thought. at what point were you not just dizzy over him?
"i'm going for a walk," you said, abruptly, getting up and mumbling some affirmation when sav reminded you the boat was leaving soon, so you should hurry back.
the sand shifting under your feet, the pleasant chill of the water at your ankles, you wanted it to calm you down, you wanted your escape plan to calm you down, like it had so many times in the past.
that's what you'd said all weekend, wasn't it? that it had been so hard to be around quinn without a clear way out?
you wanted to scream, felt heat prick behind your eyes, because here you were, walking away, and it didn't feel any easier. you didn't feel any relief, any satisfaction.
he was back there, and you were here, and it didn't look like last night had changed anything, for him. it didn't look like you were as life-altering a person as he was, for you.
the thought made slow, hot tears finally, finally break through. you blinked hard as you continued to walk, the pressure in your head painful, scorching droplets hanging onto your throat before falling to the sand below.
you had no idea how long you had been walking, how long you'd been crying, but eventually, you looked up, and realized it was actually getting darker. the sun was much lower in the sky, the wind a bit quicker. clouds had began to creep in, making it grey and ominous.
great, you thought, rain on your impossibly long walk back was exactly what you needed.
you stilled, looked down at your feet, let out a deep, heavy breath, watched the water twist and pool around your ankles. maybe you could just stay like this forever. maybe your body would eventually decompose into the damp sand and smooth pebbles, turn into something beautiful.
"jesus, doll, there you are."
your head whipped back as you turned around, found a slightly out of breath quinn now in front of you. you blinked at him, your lips shut. was this some trick of the storm? what was he doing here? how dare he follow you?
your eyes didn't leave his, as you watched his gaze visibly soften so beautifully when he took in your face.
it must have been bad, you thought, evidence of crying for however long all over you. your cheeks must have been splotchy, your lashes clumped together, your lips puffy, eyes red.
this vision of you seemed to sober him, to make his heightened breathing cool down to something more composed.
he exhaled, braved a step closer to you, now only a foot apart. his gaze dripped down you in a way that had you wanting to just sink into the earth. "doll," he began, almost a warning, "you been crying?"
you didn't say anything, for a second, didn't indulge his obvious question with a response.
"what are you doing here?" you said, eventually, but it came out like a statement, a whisper, as you messily wiped your face with the back of your hand.
he had the gall to blink back at you, as if confused, that sorry softness still drenching his face, his posture. "you'd been gone for a while," he began, "the boat was leaving, and i just-"
"do you just want to fight, again?" you asked, your blood growing hotter with each second he was here, so close to you. you hated how wobbly your voice sounded, how resigned you already seemed to be. you peered up at him, felt your heart crack in two. "do you know your lines, yet, quinn?"
"i don't want to fight," he said, and conflict burned bright across his gaze, indecision.
"should i start or you?" you pressed, ignoring his admission, "how many times do i have to make a fool of myself before i finally stop expecting you to act like i matter?"
his breath was sharp in silence. the wind whipped your hair around your face, sticking to your tear-stained cheeks.
"of course you matter," he said, almost incredulous, like the whole idea of thinking otherwise was ridiculous.
your laugh was bitter, mean. "oh, of course," you bit out. "of course, right? how could i not be able to tell? you say you don't hate me, but you won't even talk to me in front of our friends," you swung you arms about in gesture. "jesus fuck, quinn, you almost kissed me, last night, and today it's right back to whatever bullshit we've been pulling for the last two years." you looked away from him, so overwhelmed with emotion. "it wasn't me who ruined this whole thing."
"you think i ruined it?" something equally terrifying and lovely melted across his eyes.
you scoffed. "it wasn't me who pretended like we'd never met," you snarked. you could almost sense a well of feeling rumbling through him like a cresting wave.
"you left!" he finally rasped, the most emotion you'd seen from him, maybe ever, his voice echoing in your head as the wind continued its assault, as small raindrops began to fall. "you left, doll, okay? i thought that night was special, but i woke up alone," he said, and it was so gravelly, sad, you felt it in your teeth.
you blinked, watched his chest rise and fall in heaving breaths. how could that be true? it dawned on you that you barely remembered much of what you did that morning, having focused so intently, for so long, on him. was it possible this whole thing was a misunderstanding?
"so you pretend not to know me?" you pressed, rain cold on your legs, your face, an icy contrast to the hot tears that had stopped flowing.
he gave a resigned gesture, blew out a breath. "i was embarrassed!" he said, "i am embarrassed, okay, doll? it's fucking embarrassing to be so into someone and then have them leave without saying goodbye, alright?"
your split heart thumped despite its brittle ache. there was a pause as you both registered just what the other had just admitted to.
both of you were soaked, now, rain dripping down your faces, but you didn't feel cold. you felt as if every inch of your skin was on fire, like your heart was trying to claw its way out of your chest.
you didn't know what to say. he had laid all his cards on the table, right in front of you, given you the honesty you'd been begging him for.
"and, you know, you wanted to kiss me, too, last night," quinn said, finally, defensive, hot, a thermometer approaching the highest temperature. as if the fact made it easier on him, somehow, as if it was a thread tying him to the earth, keeping him from floating away. "it wasn't just me."
you groaned through clenched teeth, a guttural sound. "of course i did! of course i want to kiss you!" you almost yelled, laying a tight fist on his solid chest, just barely holding back from slamming it into him.
his eyes were a forest fire, then, as your choice of words registered, a pause heavier than rock between you.
"wanted or want, doll?" he asked, and it was a breath, a whine, a plea as he allowed himself to wrap a heavy arm around your waist, pull you closer to him, until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. the closest he'd been, dizzyingly close, like a dream.
you realized your mistake even in your dazed state, how he'd said you'd wanted to kiss him the night before. how you said you want to.
you could have easily laughed him off, said it was a tenses slip-up. you unfurled your fist, instead, laid your palm flat against his chest, perhaps imagined his heart beating in your grip.
he had been so honest with you, after all, had finally told you the truth. the least you could do was return the favor.
"want," you all but whispered, gazing up at him through raindrops and vulnerability.
what was and what could be melted away in a single moment.
he was a blur of relief and desperate motion. "thank fuck," was his murmured groan as he took the side of your face in a rough hand and guided your lips to his in a kiss that felt like a feat of nature one million times more impressive than the storm that blew around you.
it had been years of countless petty fights and cruel misunderstandings, of bitter jealousy and longing gazes, of deifying the last time you'd had quinn, like this. and yet, still, it was so much better than you remembered. he was.
the way he clutched at your hip like he couldn't bear to let you go, not anymore, not this time. the way his hand on your face was so firm, but so gentle. that undeniable faint grapefruit taste, so completely him.
how you melted into his chest, wrapped your arms around his neck, just wanting him closer, closer, just wanting him so close that you'd never be apart again.
you whimpered against his mouth when his teeth pulled lightly at your bottom lip, like some punishment for all you'd put him though. you just rooted your hand in his hair, now soaking wet, tugged at the curls near his neck, in your own kind of retaliation, until he gave a choked moan of his own.
that's for what you did to me, the soft sensation of pain screamed at both of you.
but his chapped lips moved with such intention against yours, like he wanted to swallow down all of the tears you'd cried over him. your body against his felt so right, so warm and comfortable even in the wet and cold weather.
but this is for what you are to me, was the ultimate response, communicated wordlessly through your kiss, through his.
at some point, you both pulled away, only just slightly, your forehead leaning against his as you both caught your breath, so elevated. his stony eyes were so molten, so clear and telling, as he traced his thumb down your jaw, finally wrapped both arms around your back and clasped his hands.
the silence was so beautiful, for a while.
"did the boat really leave?" you asked, dazed, finally, your voice low, husky.
quinn just nodded. "jack said they'll reimburse us for the night if we stay at the inn downtown," he explained, looking around to locate the road, the civilization that existed outside of your perfect bubble. his eyes found you again, something like mirth hidden in there, somewhere. "probably should get out of the rain."
your swollen mouth quirked up in a half-smile as you nodded your agreement, let him hold your hand in his as you made the short walk to the inn jack had been referring to.
you checked in together, ignoring a slightly confused look from the person at the desk, probably at the fault of your rain-drenched appearances. quinn made to grab some overnight necessities at the supermarket next door, kindly letting you take a warm shower while he did so.
when you opened the door to your room, you quickly realized that there was only one bed to share between the two of you. your stomach rolled at the thought, at the pressure that would exist, or not exist, when he returned. at the question of how far you were going to take this. your heart hurt at just how far you'd take it, take him, if he'd let you.
the thought vibrated through you as you let the warm water wash away the day's wear from your skin, eventually wrapping yourself up in a towel.
you hadn't realized how late it was, the quick storm messing with your conception of passing time. it was almost nine by the time quinn got back.
he closed the door behind himself, and the clicking noise that followed felt like something serious as he turned to face you, set the bag of things he had gotten on the dresser.
he cleared his throat as his gaze caught haphazardly on your bare shoulders, the slope of your neck, then finally registering the bed that you were sitting on, the singularity of it. he flushed down to his collar, making butterflies flutter to life in your chest.
he eventually averted his gaze enough to maintain a glimpse of dignity, opening the bathroom door. "got some stuff for you in there, doll," he called, gently, over his shoulder before he shut the door behind him, seemingly to take a shower himself.
you tried not to blush, because you were too old for that, too mature. you exhaled, tried to convince yourself that you would be fine no matter what happened, tonight. you'd kissed, sure, and there seemed to be an air of lightness, of understanding between you, but that didn't necessarily mean you were entirely past all of your issues. that didn't mean quinn wanted to move as fast as you did.
you distracted yourself by going through the bag on the dresser, trying to put together some semblance of your nighttime routine. the clothing options, understandably, must not have been plentiful. you smiled, laughed lightly as you pulled out the tshirt he'd gotten for you to change into, which was one of those touristy ones that read the person who bought me this shirt loves me very much!
and it was obviously because there had been no other options, but a piece of you clung to the sentiment, dug your nails into the flesh of it so hard it began to bleed.
regardless, you got ready to go to sleep, pretended to ignore when you heard the shower head turn off, the bathroom door eventually open, averted your gaze and forced away your blush upon quinn's reappearance.
the air of the room felt almost metallic, tangible, like it was rattling around the space instead of flowing.
you knew it was partially due to the way he looked, now, damp and flushed from the warm water, his chest bare and broad, a towel slung low on his hips. you swallowed, looked up at the ceiling, as if there was something very interesting up there. as if there was anything more captivating to you than him.
he pulled on the cheap clothes he'd gotten for himself, went through the motions of his own little routine, all while you pretended to be on your phone, scrolling through apps but not retaining even a bit of information.
"good if i turn the light out?" he eventually asked, soft, to which you nodded, consenting to the darkness that followed, the rustling of comforters and sheets as he joined you on the bed.
you set your phone down, tried to close your eyes, but you couldn't relax, not with him just so, so close, not with so much that you still wanted to do. not with years of complete lack weighing on you, not with the memory of his lips on yours so beautifully fresh in your mind.
you were turned away from him, a bit of space between you, but you could somehow feel that he was awake, too, that he was just as aware of the energy and expectation that coated the two of you like a watery film.
the texture of the inn's cheap sheets felt grating and terrible against your hot skin, made you restless, rubbing your legs together against the other slowly, fussing with your pillow, tediously careful to not make contact with him.
"doll," was quinn's inevitable comment, more of a warning, a statement, spoken low and rough, rumbling through you.
you didn't turn to face him, but stilled. "sorry," you mumbled, your cheeks warm.
"what's wrong?" you could basically feel the words on your back, the heat from his breath, his body.
you exhaled, still refusing to face him head-on, knew you'd be done for if you did. "nothing's wrong," you whispered.
he hummed, almost like this was amusing to him. "can feel you thinkin' from here," he said, soft. "tell me."
the pause before you spoke was solid, weighted. "just don't want to go back what we were before," you said, and it was the tone of a beggar, so honest in want. "just want this time to be different."
then he reached his arms out, wrapped them around your middle, pulled you back against his soft frame. you swore you must have exhaled a thousand anxieties as you melted into him, shifted your hips back against him.
"i want that, too," he admitted, and you could barely stop your smile as you finally turned to face him, undeniably beautiful even in the darkness.
"really?" you asked, not caring for a second how pathetic it sounded, how glutted with hope, almost childlike.
you felt his nod more than saw it as his grip around you tightened, his hands firmly grasping the flesh of your hips as you reached up, traced your fingers along the edge of his jaw.
"i'm sorry i left," you breathed, and you could feel his chest contract at your apology. "i never wanted to hurt you."
"i'm sorry, too," he said, "'m sorry i acted like you didn't matter to me, doll." his tone dripped with meaning. "'m sorry i lied."
your mouth quirked. "done a lot of lying, haven't we?" you mused. it was honestly impressive, how long you'd both kept up the charade.
he mumbled some affirmation that you felt against your forehead, the heat of it making you rub your calves together, again. "still nervous?" he asked.
you peered up at him. "not nervous," you clarified, "i just-"
you exhaled, lowered your gaze, almost stumbled over your words, because how could you tell him exactly what you thought?
how could you say all i've wanted for years is for you to touch me like you did that night?
somehow, maybe because he was feeling something similar, he seemed to know exactly where your head was, exactly the dilemma that existed in your mind.
"ask me," he said, hard, firm, "ask me, doll. know i like you desperate."
you whimpered, because his words could have been a taunt, had been a taunt before, but not this time.
because you were desperate, only for him. and he wanted you anyways.
"i need you, quinn," you whined, gathering his shirt in a clenched fist, "fuck, i need you so bad."
that was enough, though you supposed the truth had always been enough, for the two of you.
it was enough for his lips to crash against yours for the second time, that night, this time so soft, no longer fueled by anger or revenge but by something lovelier, slow burning, something you felt in your feet.
your lips parted almost immediately in a soft moan, making space for him as his hand braced the back of your neck, holding you tight as he shifted you so that he was on top of you, the weight and solidity of him almost oppressive, if not exactly what you'd been craving for so long.
he kissed you hard, adoring, like he wanted the outline of your mouth imprinted on his forever, as his other hand traced down the side of your body, eventually stilling to push your searching hips into the mattress.
"be good, doll," he murmured against your jaw, leaving messy kisses down your neck that had your throat feeling tight.
"can't," you whined, grasping for the curls at the nape of his neck, lifting your hips again to try to get some kind of friction against his lap. "can't, baby, been waiting so long." you tugged at his hair as his hand rested heavily on your inner thigh. "been wantin' you forever."
he let out a groan, finally moved his broad hand to tug your clothes aside, run his fingers through your folds. "yeah?" you could feel him smile against your neck as your breathing picked up, as he just barely grazed your clit, making you squirm. "been thinkin' 'bout me?" he asked. "'bout the last time i fucked you?"
you whimpered, nodded feverishly, because you had been thinking about it. a day rarely went by that you didn't think about it. it felt like something mythical that it didn't have to be just a memory anymore, that he didn't have to be your haunted house. that he could be here, with you, like this.
he pushed a thick finger into you, urging a strained sound from your throat. "'s okay," he cooed, watching you adjust to the pressure, the sensation.
he began a steady pace, adding another finger, making the slick sound of you seem to echo off the thin walls of the inn, making you wonder briefly if there was someone staying in the room next door. such a concern was quickly overwhelmed, though, as you got used to the stretch of his fingers, began to hunger for something else.
"know 've been dreamin' 'bout you, don't you?" he asked, moving his fingers faster, "fuck, got me all worked up, all those times, doll." his smirk grew arrogant. "so mean of you."
you clutched at his tense forearm. "''m sorry, quinn," you begged, rough and wild, "please, baby, please fuck me."
he slowed his pace, let you paw at his clothes before helping move them out of the way. "ask so pretty for me," he praised, spitting into his hand, pumping himself up and down, so hard and hot against you as he lined himself up, his voice dipping down even lower, somehow, like he was speaking only to himself, as if in a dream. "been dyin' to fuck you."
you whined when he began to push into you, the stretch dizzying, making your vision swim, your chest tighten. you grabbed a fistful of a sheet with one hand, the other arm grasping for him, eventually looping around his neck, your nails digging into the tense muscles of his shoulders.
his exhale was a shudder, one you felt so deeply, so intimately, one that told you that he was feeling a similar way to you - like you were being pulled between memory and reality, what was and what would be.
the pressure felt impossible as he bottomed out, let you adjust to him. "you're, fuck," you bit out, squeezing your eyes shut, "'re bigger than i remember."
someone else probably would have smirked, said something self-satisfying, but he didn't, seemingly too lost in the feeling of you around him, of having you, like this. "open your eyes, doll," he said, strained.
you gave a slight shake of your head in protest, knowing exactly what your refusal would do to him, knowing exactly the roughness it would bring out as he began to fuck into you, slow and deep, so overwhelming and perfect you could have cried.
"don't be a brat," he ordered.
a greedy smile fell across your lips when you felt his warm palm on your throat, his hand squeezing just barely, just enough feel him, everywhere. you opened your eyes, met his dark gaze, felt yourself clench down so tightly around him.
his rhythm grew brutal. "still like that, do you, doll?" he groaned, to which you whined at the insinuation that he remembered every detail of that night the way you did. that he had remembered what you liked and didn't like so vividly, even now.
"more, baby," you pleaded, feeling your head grow fuzzy with pleasure, that pressure inside of you so extreme, heat bursting through your waterline like you were about to cry. "fuck, quinn, need you harder."
"yeah?" he rasped, releasing your neck and bringing his hands down to tease your clit, making your back arch up off of the mattress, your hips jolting. "'f you needed a good fuck, doll, should've just asked."
you whimpered at his words, so cruel, but they pushed you impossibly closer, regardless, as he placed a wide palm on your lower stomach, intensifying the sensation. "i needed it," you babbled, feeling the wet feeling of hot tears on your cheeks but not really registering anything besides him, "needed your cock, baby."
he groaned, looked up for a second as if praying. maybe he was. maybe this was something worth praying for. "can feel you close, doll," he said, his thrusts growing wild, his face flushed with exertion, "give me it, hm?"
"'m gonna cum," you breathed, not recognizing your husk of a voice as you rooted your hand in his hair.
"cum on my cock," he said, a plea, "fuck, doll, been so perfect for me, waited so good."
you came apart at his words, your vision growing dimmer even in darkness, your thighs tensing as you felt your high trigger his own orgasm, warm and wet, his rough groan louder than even the storm-heightening waves outside, somehow more powerful.
his heavy body collapsed atop yours, both of you damp with sweat, your hair sticking to your tear-stained face, his soft curls to the back of his neck. you could feel every exhale against your chest, every twitch of his muscles in your bones.
at some point, he rolled off of you, pulled you against him, so, so tight, like letting you go would be something unforgivable. his arms around you felt like a million apologies, like something solid underneath you, finally, after being seasick and dizzy for so, so long.
he traced a drowsy thumb under your eyes, collecting the remnants of tears you'd barely noticed you'd shed.
"that good, eh?" he rasped, and you could hear his smile.
you rolled your eyes, couldn't stop your own grin as you playfully slapped him on the chest, relished in his low laugh against your hand, into your hair. "hey, can i ask you something?" you said, propping yourself up on your elbow.
"'course," he said, and that alone felt like something too lovely to be true.
"will you be my date to the wedding?" you asked, and your smile grew wider at his obvious conflict of interest. "even though it means you'll lose our bet?"
he groaned, rubbed a hand over his face. "fine," he said, his eyes flashing in the dark, "but only 'cause you look so pretty like this."
you gave a light noise of excitement in celebration, leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. "and for my prize i choose," you said, trailing off, thinking, tapping a finger to your mouth in contemplation before pointing it at quinn. "you."
his gentle smile was something surreal as he pulled you even closer to him, your cheek against his chest. "done," he breathed, and when he pressed his lips to the top of your head, it was something right.
when you finally reconvened with your friends the next day at the port, savannah approached you first, pulling you in for a hug.
"i'm so sorry," she said, "i wanted to stay and wait for you, but quinn said he was going to go by himself, and then luke said i shouldn't-"
"it's okay," you said, "it all worked out. we're here now, safe and sound."
savannah's brow quirked. "you seem awfully chipper," she observed, taking a step back as if to get the full picture.
you smiled at her, and you could feel quinn smile too, next to you, your stomach flipping when he looped a hand around your waist and pulled you to him, his grip strong and sure.
sav's eyes went wide, lexi laughed. nico whispered something to jack, luke gave an exaggerated fist pump.
"well," savannah said, "took you long enough, jesus."
"wait," you said, slowly, "you knew?"
she waved you off. "of course i knew, i'm your best friend."
you gestured around to the group. "who else knew?"
lexi raised her hand as if in a classroom. you nodded, invited her to speak up. "like knew that you guys fucked a couple years ago?" she clarified, "or knew that you guys secretly were super obsessed with each other?"
"because the answer to both of those questions is yes," nico piped up from the back.
quinn was silent, his low laugh against your neck as he clasped his arms around your front, pulled you back against him.
you turned your neck to look up at him. "did you tell them?" you asked.
"i told someone who probably told them," he mused.
you fixed your gaze on luke. "you absolute drama queen," you scolded, though you were smiling.
luke put his hands up in the air in surrender. "not my fault," he said, "we would have figured it out, anyways. not like you two were doing a good job of hiding anything."
"he's got a point," quinn whispered just behind your ear.
you sighed. "fine," you conceded. "i forgive you. and i forgive all of you for abandoning me in some random seaside town."
nico huffed. "yeah, really slummin' it, eh?" he asked, "you were at a bed and breakfast for a night with your pretty-much boyfriend. relax."
quinn pinched your hip, which made you smile. "so, where are we dropping nico off?" you asked, "might i suggest a deserted island?"
"finally gets the guy she wants and suddenly she's got jokes," nico muttered.
you felt quinn smile against your neck, and you smiled, too.
the wedding, the next weekend, was exactly the beautiful occasion you knew it would be, with only the most predictable of issues and the most simple of solutions.
you walked down the aisle with quinn, whose touch on your waist lingered right before you split apart to stand on opposite sides of the altar. when you both stilled, you shared a soft smile that felt like home.
lexi walked next, arm and arm with nico. erin was somewhere in the pews, as her and lex had really hit it off, and you were pretty sure about four girls here were under the impression that they were nico's one and only date.
luke walked by himself, a ring-bearer and flower-girl, of sorts, his tie a little too loose, his suit jacket too wide in the shoulders. his friend-date, mackie, you remembered, gave an emphatic cheer when luke tripped over the carpeted aisle, stumbling on his feet.
finally, sav walked down, looking just so beautiful, alight and glowing with the sort of beauty that comes with being a kind person surrounded by those you love.
it was a beautiful ceremony.
the reception was distinct in its energy, heightened by an open bar and big dance floor.
you danced with your best friends, smiled as you watched jack and sav enjoy dances together, laughed as nico tried to juggle his several dates.
"might not have been the best idea, eh?" you asked him, once, when he passed you and luke on the dance floor.
he made a pft sound, waved you off. "i can handle it," he said, his eyes suddenly filling with alarm, "but if you see the redhead, warn me."
you danced goofily with luke for a bit, giggling at his awkward moves, mimicking them in an exaggerated way.
when the songs grew slower, lazily, you felt a hand on the small of your back that you'd know anywhere, that you'd known even in absence.
"mind if i cut in, lukey?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes at his funny wording, but luke complied with a smile, and then it was the two of you, quinn's hands around your waist, yours looped around his neck, your fingers playing softly with his hair.
"you look really pretty, tonight," you said to him, unable to hide your smile, and it was true. his unruly hair, sharp features, full lips, it was distracting. that, combined with his pressed pants and the fact that a few buttons had come undone from his shirt over the course of the night. "everyone's jealous of me, i bet."
you'd tell him a thousand times to see the way his gaze softened, the way a faint pink blush bloomed across the bridge of his nose. "thank you, doll," he said, genuineness evident in his voice, soft. "'re too good to me, yeah?"
you laughed, at this, felt it light up your face. "makin' up for lost time," you teased.
he pulled you so close to him, then, until his embrace was basically a swaying hug, a tired excuse for a dance. "got all the time in the world," he said, low, only for you, against your temple, and it felt like rebuilding a world from devastation. it felt like beginning, like living. it felt like him.
it had been you and quinn, first. it had been you and quinn, the coward and the fool, in the middle, however violently.
and, finally, it was you and quinn, now. now, and forever.
fin.
608 notes · View notes
jackhues · 4 months
Note
❄️ matty t "you're all mine, you got that? i'm not sharing."
nonnie i adore you so much, thank you for feeding my matty t obsession rn
you closed your eyes, taking in the cool breeze against your face.
it was rare to have a cold day in south florida, so you took advantage of the nighttime breeze.
matthew held your hand, dutifully following the sidewalk rule to keep you away from harms way. the two of you were walking back to your apartment after a dinner date at a fancier restaurant. your dress was a deep red - matthew's favourite colour on you - that stopped mid-thigh.
it wasn't anything indecent, and you loved it. the latter reason was more than enough for matthew to love it too.
you took a deep breathe of the night air, doing a quick twirl. matthew laughed, lifting his arm to spin you a few times. you giggled as he pulled you close to him mid-twirl, frowning when you realized he'd stopped you two.
he slipped out of his coat jacket without a word, placing it on your shoulders.
you looked up at him, noticing the smile was gone from his face. instead, he was glaring at something behind you.
you followed his gaze to see some weird guy standing against a store, eyes trained on your ass.
"hey! what the fuck do you think you're doing?" matthew yelled, marching towards him.
"matthew, matthew, don't," you tried to reach for his arm, but he squeezed your hand, trying to reassure you.
"i ain't done nothing yet," the man responded.
matthew gripped his collar, pulling the man to his feet, "the fuck you mean? keep your perverted eyes off her, you understand?"
"if you want to keep eyes off, don't let her dress like a slut," the man laughed.
you didn't even realize matthew had punched the man until you saw him reel backwards.
"don't you dare call her that," matthew growled. "and keep your fucking eyes to yourself."
the man laughed, rolling his eyes and shrugging matthew off. "whatever you say."
"good," matthew grumbled, heading back to take your hand.
you reached out to him, but he shook his head. not now.
silently, you let matthew take your hand and lead you back to your apartment. the two of you were quiet as you entered your home, locking the door behind you.
"matthew, you didn't have to-"
"don't say it," he cut in. he looked at you, "don't say i didn't have to do that. he was practically undressing you with his eyes, while i was there. no fucking shame, people like him." he cupped your face in his hands, "no one gets away with saying shit like that about you. you're all mine, got that? i'm not sharing."
"not even with the eyes of some creepy pervert?"
matthew gave you a deadpan look.
"too soon?"
---
send a ❄️, player + prompt
121 notes · View notes
swissboyhisch · 1 year
Text
All-Star Love
Tumblr media
Pairing: Matthew Tkachuck x Lemiuex!Reader
Summary: The NHL All Star weekend is always fun. But bring in a romance... Then that's when it becomes interesting.
Word Count: 1742
Warnings: None I think. Please tell me if I'm wrong.
A/N: This comes from a fanific I've written myself. I adjusted it for this but I loved this idea/scene.
THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD
Tumblr media
All-Star weekend 2020. This year it was being held in St. Louis. You had arrived on the Pittsburgh plane with Sidney Crosby, Kris Letang and Tristan Jarry since you were currently working with the team. Despite being Lemiuex’s child, you had earned yourself a position as an assistant coach at such a young age. You grew up playing the game. Now you were also the captain of the Canadian Women’s team. 
The last few years, you had attended the games alongside Sidney, who was an older brother after he lived with you and your family after he was drafted in 2005. It was a staple weekend in the season schedule. You had the chance to see all the friends and players you were close with and get to have some fun. Often you could even find yourself doing media stuff. 
This year the NHL had introduced the Elite Women’s 3 on 3. You were the youngest on the Canadian team by 5 years. They also have allowed the women on the teams to compete in the skills competitions. You had been placed into the Shooting Stars event. This meant that you were competing against your boyfriend, Matt, and his brother, Brady. Others in the skills competition include Mitch Marner, Patrick Kane, Tyler Seguin, David Perron, Hillary Knight, Danid Pastrnak and Ryan O’Reilly. 
Right now you were dressed in a pair of jeans and your team jersey. Standing in line waiting to be called to the stage where you’d be shooting from. With Mitch, Matt and Brady in front of you, the four of you were chatting and laughing. Each of you were excited to shoot off the platform. 
“Now your Gatorade Shooting Stars… from your St. Louis Blues, number 57, David Perron!”
The arena came to life, all cheering on one of the home team players. Perron, with his son in his arms, made his way up the stairs from ice levels. Handing out beanies and high fiving the fans as he went up to the platform.
“From the Toronto Maple Leafs, number 16, Mitch Marner.” 
Mitch followed Perron up the steps. Handing out hats as he went. Matt stepped forward to the bottom of the stars, looking up at all the fans. He had a hand on your lower back. Brady had let your stand next to your boyfriend whilst you three waited.
“From the Calgary Flames, number 19, Matthew Tkachuk.” Matt follows Mitch up. “From the Ottawa Senators, number 7, Brady Tkachuk.”
“The Canadian Women’s All Star, number 11, (Y/N) Lemieux.”
As you walked up the many stairs, you handed out rolled up t-shirts to fans. It was weird to have this many cameras in your face though. If you were honest, the walk up to the platform looked a lot shorter from the bottom. Especially the amount of stairs you had to climb. You reached the platform and waited for the rest of the players to join herself,Matt, Brady, Mitch and Perron. When everyone had gotten there, it went straight into the competition. First to shoot was Perron. He scored a total of 14 points. Mitch was next on the platform. He scored an awesome 22 points.
“Our next shooter, Matthew Tkachuk,” Nick started. “Your brother Brady is following you so we thought, hey, why not get one more Tkachuk up here. Why not bring up your Dad. Give it up St. Louis, for all-star Kieth Tkachuk!”
Yourself and Brady grin, tapping your sticks as you watched Keith join Matt on the platform, an arm around his shoulder with a wide smile on his face. Nick motioned for Brady to join them as well. You decided to give him a light shove as a joke.
“You should be up here as well,” Brady commented as he joined his brother and father.
You laughed at Brady’s comment. Sending a wink to Matt as well who had the biggest smile on his face.
Keith turned to face you, giving you a joking look, “I think we’re missing someone up here.”
“I ain’t no Tkachuck,” You reply. “Enjoy the moment, big guy.”
Matt stepped forward from where he was standing, holding his hand out for you. “Well, maybe we should change that, hey?”
“What?”
Keith, Brady and Nick stepped back from the platform and Matt grabbed your hand, pulling you to the centre of the platform they were standing on. Your hands flew to your mouth as you watched Matt slowly kneel to one knee and open a ring box. In the box sat the most perfect engagement ring you had ever seen.
“No way,” you breathed, looking at Matt who had the biggest smile on his face.
“You’ve been my best friend since we met all those years ago right here in this very arena. When little (Y/N) bumped into me as she ran to get away from her dad. You’ve been considered part of this family since then but I think I need to make it official, make sure you don’t stand out too much with that last name. Will you do me the greatest honour of changing your last name from Lemieux to Tkachuk?”
You nodded, too shocked to answer in words. The arena roared to life when Matt stood up and kissed you. He pulled the ring out of the box as you dropped your gloves. You cried as Matt slid the ring on your finger. Once he had sealed the deal, you lunged at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders excitedly.
The players around them and on the bench, as well as the whole arena, were screaming and cheering. Mitch and Brady made sure they were heard over everyone else. 
“I can’t believe you,” You laughed as you pulled away from Matt. Brady was the first to hug you congratulations. He had the biggest grin as well. The smile gave him away. “You knew!”
“Of course I did,” Brady chuckles, “I helped choose the ring.”
Brady was interrupted when Keith pulled you into a hug. “I think you should just keep your last name, it’s more recognisable.”
“Tkachuk is better, that's for sure.”
Nick soon joined the happy group. You were tucked into Matt’s side like usual. Nick held his hand out to Matt who shook it happily before handing Matt a new jersey. It was a grey All-Star Canadian jersey like you were wearing. You grabbed it from Matt, checking the back which now had Tkachuk on it.
“Oh my god,” You grinned, pulling off your current jersey for the new one.
“Hey, have a look at the photo up on the board you guys.” There was a photo of Keith kneeling by the bench in front of a young Brady, Matt and yourself. You had attended the weekend with her father and hung out with the boys. One of the rare times you got to see the Tkachuk brothers as a kid. “How exciting is it to be on this platform being here, history in the making, with your sons and soon to be in-law?”
“I’m so proud of these guys,” Keith stated, smiling at you three. “They’ve earned being here. Matt and Brady grew up here, watched me play here. I mean, Matt met (Y/N) just outside the home change rooms in this arena.” At that, there was a picture of Matt, Brady and Taryn, the youngest Tkachuk, standing with Keith now on the screen.  “I love these guys. I know they love the Blues deep down.”
“Oh, we’re excited to have you here. 18000 people wanna know, how many pucks can Tkachuk chuck, chuck? So why don’t you have a go at this.” Keith took Matt’s stick from him as the three young adults stepped back. “Come on, Keith Tkachuk everybody!”
Keith shot the puck, nearly getting it in the 10 pointer net. “Not a lot of love for that arch there Tkachuk,” You chirped as he turned to give Matt his stick back.
He hugged the three of you before Matt stepped up to the platform. But only after a kiss from you. Keith’s arm wrapped around your shoulder as they watched Matt drop his gloves.
“How characteristic…” You giggles, stopping when he pulls off his Calgary jersey to reveal an old St. Louis Cardinals jersey.
“Who’d he fight?” Keith laughed. “He won’t touch you.”
“He’ll fight me,” Brady mumbled from beside you.
The three of you chuckled as you watched Matt take his first shot. As he took his next few shots, you listened to Brady and Keith chirp your boyfriend, well now Fiance. Matt ended up with 24, getting a 10 on his last one.
“Look at you go,” You smiled, pecking Matt when he switched spots with Brady. 
Brady stepped up to the plate. Matt pulled from under his dad’s arm into his. Having you stand in front of him with his arms around you. When Brady took his first shot, Matt laughed at the fact his brother didn’t do anything special as a tribute to their hometown. 
“Next up we have the last of the three musketeers.”
You stepped onto the platform, with a good luck kiss from Matthew. You had 7 shots to hit the targets laid out on the ice below. With the first shot you hit a 5. After your 6 other shots, you came to a total of 24 as well. Tie with Matthew. After everyone else had taken their shot, it was only Matthew and yourself that had the highest score. No-one had outshot you two. 
“Since you both scored an amazing 24 points, we go to a sudden death shootout. One shot. Highest score wins.”
Matt shot first, missing the arch but a hair. You shot next. The puck went flying over the arch. Actually hitting Jarry who was chilling at the end of the end with some of the other goalies. 
“Injure your goalie, why don’t ya?” Matt chirps as he steps up once again. 
Round two. Matt shoots and hits the 5 points. Only way for you to beat that was to score the same or hit the arch for 10 points. You took a moment before finally shooting the puck. It went straight into the arch. You grin, cheering as you turn to where Matt was standing.
“Better luck next time Tkachuk!”
He smiled, coming up to congratulate you. He pressed a kiss to your lips. “Next time, you’ll be a Tkachuk as well.”
Tumblr media
TAG LIST:
@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings
194 notes · View notes
starsandhughes · 2 months
Text
I Know Places
Tumblr media
inspired by i know places by taylor swift <3
pairing: quinn hughes x tkachuk! reader
word count: 2.4k
warnings: drinking, use of y/n, mentions of throwing up (not actually done), fade to black smut
MASTERLIST
-----------------------
Maybe it wasn't the best idea you've ever had, but it wasn't like you planned this! You didn't plan to fall for one of your brother's best friends, someone that was a groomsman at his wedding, it just happened.
You and Quinn kept sharing looks during the start of the wedding reception. It was a dangerous game and you both knew it. Quinn and Brady were best friends, and both of your families were friends— you were terrified that too much was at risk with this relationship.
There wasn't a fear that your families wouldn't be happy about the relationship, because there was no doubt in your mind that everyone would be thrilled, it was the fear that your relationship would no longer be just yours.
It would be theirs, too. It would belong to your parents, Quinn's parents, Brady, Matthew, Taryn, Jack, Luke, and eventually all of the fans.
Your relationship would be under the scrutiny of the public eye. You'd be subjected to hate from Quinn's "fans," and probably your brothers's as well. You knew that some girls online tended to take every single blink as a chance to over analyze a relationship from a player they obsess over. Many fans were supportive of the various WAGS, but there were a few that would be sobbing over the fact that Quinn is taken. These fans are the hunters, and you're a fox trying not to be caged.
Your relationship was fairly new, only a couple weeks old, and it started back when the Devils were still in the playoffs. There was a gap between one of Matthew's games and one of Jack and Luke's, so you hopped on a plane to go see one of them before Quinn got his wisdom teeth out. Quinn drove you back to your hotel at the end of the night and well... things spiraled from there.
Love was fragile. It could burn out. And in your experience, especially new love.
The more alcohol that you put into your system, the less careful you and Quinn were being. There were cameras everywhere, but it slipped your mind for just a moment. You two had been friends for a long time and an innocent touch surely wouldn't be enough for everyone's heads to turn, so you let it happen.
Quinn stood behind you with his hands on your waistline as you moved your hips to the music. You knew they were his hands before you even turned around, you were familiar with his touch at this point. It wasn't until you heard Luke whisper to Jack, "look!" that you had any concern.
"Let go, Quinn," you whispered to him. "Luke is looking suspicious."
"So let him," Quinn whispered back.
"Quinn," you groaned.
Quinn obliged to your concerns and took his hands off of you. He extended his hand towards you instead and lifted it up when you took it, a subtle motion signaling you to spin under his arm. You laughed as he did this, and to play it off like you were just two friends dancing, he called out to Luke to catch you as he spun you outward.
You fell into Luke laughing before you turned back to face Luke and threw your arms around his neck to dance to the beat with him.
"What was that about?" Luke asked you. You internally panicked, but outwardly remained calm.
"What was what about?" you laughed it off.
"Quinn's hands on you," Luke said, as if it were obvious. In his defense... it was.
"We were just dancing, Luke. I've known him forever! I've known you forever and now we're dancing! Is there something wrong with that?" you turned it all on him.
"No, no, nothing wrong with that," he said calmly. He was too smart for his own good and you knew it, but he was also respectful enough to not call you on your bluff.
Luckily, keeping an eye on you was the last thing on Brady and Matthew's minds with everything that's going on around them. As the night went on, Jack was getting drunker and Luke was on Jack duty, so Quinn's brothers were finally less of a problem.
All you wanted was to be with Quinn. If you two were further along in your relationship and unworried about your families, you two would be attached at the hip and having a good time. But everyone in your family was around. Grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles. Everyone. Hell, even Josh kept eyeing you and Quinn. But the wine running through your veins was making you crave Quinn's touch even more.
All the happy couples surrounding you certainly weren't helping. Every kiss you caught a glimpse of made you think of Quinn's lips. His soft lips. You felt your face begin to heat up as your mind wandered too deep into memories of your last time with Quinn.
"I know that look," Quinn said as he walked up to stand beside you.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you feigned innocence. Your thoughts were nowhere near innocent.
Quinn stepped in front of you, dangerously close, "Yeah, you do. You've got that look on your face that you have while we're..." He leaned in close to whisper the rest of his sentence in your ear, "...alone."
You closed your eyes and gulped. He has you in the palm of his hand, and right now was not the best time to be feeling such things.
Quinn's hands found your hips and pulled you closer to be pressed up against him, "I don't think anyone's watching."
"Quinn..."
"Just one kiss," he proposed. "To get it out of our system."
You looked around and discovered that your boyfriend was right. Everyone was too wrapped up with the party to pay any mind to you two. You gave into him and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him softly.
Quinn brought a hand up to your cheek and cupped your face when you pulled away, "I love how red you get every time I kiss you."
Then it happened.
A flash. A camera flash to be exact.
You began to panic. Once Brady and Emma get all the wedding photos, your secret would be out. There was no chance that you could play off whatever the camera caught as something just between friends!
"Shit!" you said, a little too loudly.
Your big brother was more keen to you than you thought, because you saw Matthew spin around in search of you. Those stupid protective tendencies never shut off for him. He was the oldest. He felt responsible for his siblings. His protectiveness is normally your saving grace, but it was your number one enemy right now.
"I know a place where we won't be found," Quinn hurried out. You grabbed his hand, "Let's go."
You two dashed out of the reception hall, not too fast as to make a scene, but you weren't moving slowly.
You two were practically sprinting through the hotel towards the elevators once you escaped the reception hall.
"Quinn, your hotel room would be too obvious!"
"That's why we're going to Matthew's," he said as if it was obvious.
"What?!"
"He gave me his key to watch because he tends to lose things," Quinn explained. "Your brother's hotel room is the last place people would think to look. I don't even think Matthew knows which room he's in."
Quinn had a point. You were pretty sure if anyone actually saw anything it would be Matty, and his own hotel room was not going to be his first idea of places to look. You immediately pulled Quinn closer to you the second he got the door open. You kissed him hungrily as you walked backwards, only parting when he gently laid you down on the couch.
Quinn climbed on top of you and started to kiss you again. His tongue slipped into your mouth as his hands gripped your hips, wrinkling your bridesmaids dress between his fingers. You moaned into his mouth when he bit your lip, which only made him bite harder before he tugged and pulled away. He then trailed his lips across your jaw and down your neck. You gasped and gripped your hands onto the ends of his hair, feeling the oxytocin flood through your body now that you finally get to feel his touch.
His left hand found its way under your dress. He traveled up your thigh slowly, making you shudder. His fingers lightly grazed across your silk panties, teasing you as he snapped the top edge against your skin.
"Please," you whimpered. It's been so long since he was last able to touch you— really touch you. Long distance is hard, but a secret long distance relationship? It's hell. "I need you."
"We don't plan on going back down to the party, do we?" Quinn asked you low. You hummed a no, pursing your lips as you tried to keep it together. "Good," he smirked.
Your heartbeat quickened when he reached up a hand to caress your cheek, something he does when he wants you to look at him. You opened your eyes to stare into his greens, completely mesmerized by the hold this man has on you. Just with one touch he can get you to do what he wants and he knows it.
"I want you to beg," he instructed. He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows expectantly, and did so subtly.
"Please," you whined.
Quinn tutted in disapproval. He wanted more than that from you. He leaned down close to your ear as he slid his hand up your body to your tit and softly squeezed, "I'm going to need more than that, baby."
"Please, fuck me," you said with more urgency. He was driving you insane.
"Please, fuck me, what?" he smirked.
"Please, fuck me, Daddy."
Quinn gave you a sly smile, "Well... since you asked so nicely.”
– – –
Your naked frame laid atop of Quinn’s, your head against his chest, as the two of you fought to catch your breath. If you were home, at either of your homes, the notion of having to get up and get dressed wouldn’t even have even crossed your minds. And if it did, you would’ve laughed it off. You don’t get that luxury when you decide to sneak off during your brother’s wedding to your other brother’s hotel room.
“Q–”
“Don’t,” Quinn cut you off. He brought a hand up and ran it up and down through your hair, “Not yet. We have time.”
“How do you know?” you whispered.
“Because the world can’t be that cruel to me,” he mumbled, holding you tighter.
Turns out, the world could be that cruel to him. To both of you. Because the loud and rowdy voices of Matthew, Jack, and Luke were coming closer and closer.
You practically dived off of Quinn and started to put your dress back on. Quinn was frantically looking for his jacket before giving up entirely and going without it.
“Act drunk!” Quinn whisper shouted at you.
“What?!”
“Act drunk! Go sit by the toilet and act like you’ve been throwing up!”
You finally caught on to what Quinn was saying. There was no way you two could escape out of Matthew’s hotel room, but you could act like you intended to be in here. Quinn grabbed a hand towel and got it wet. He rubbed it across your face so it seemed like he had cleaned your face off post you throwing up. You then threw open the toilet lid and flushed it, hoping that the boys were close enough to have heard it. Quinn sat down on the bathroom floor with his back against the wall and his legs straight out, and you curled up into a ball and laid your head on his thigh. You weren’t drunk by any means, but you were pretty inebriated, so forcing yourself to cry like you normally do post throwing up wasn’t that hard.
You guess they went to the front desk to get another key to Matthew’s room, because instead of a knock, you heard the door click open. Matthew immediately heard your sniffles and rushed into the bathroom, “What’s wrong?!”
“Y/N got super drunk, and your room was closer than mine, sorry,” Quinn said softly, rubbing your back up and down.
“I didn’t see her drinking a lot,” Luke said suspiciously.
“She can be a lightweight if she doesn’t eat enough,” Matthew said, completely oblivious to what Luke was insinuating. He was crouched down on the ground trying to tend to you. He looked at Quinn, “I got her.”
Quinn helped move you into a position where Matthew could pick you up and carry you to the bed.
“I don’t feel good, Matty,” you fake cried.
“I know, Y/N/N,” Matthew shushed you. “I’m here, it’s okay.”
Matthew told Quinn to unmake the bed so that he could put you in it. Matthew gently laid you down and Quinn covered you up. Matthew left to get you some water and Advil and told Quinn to watch you.
“Next time, I’m picking the place,” you mouthed. Quinn silently chuckled and sent you a wink before leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“You got this?” Jack asked his brother.
“I had it before you got here, so…” Quinn trailed off.
“Alright, alright,” Jack said. “No need for sass!”
Jack left, but before Luke followed him, he stopped to look at you and Quinn. He looked out the door and when Jack was far enough away, he spoke.
“I won’t tell anyone,” Luke started.
“Yes! Oh my god, yes! Happy?” you shouted out, not lifting your head to look at him.
Luke smiled and looked back at Quinn, who sheepishly ran his fingers through his hair and nodded.
“I knew it!”
Quinn came back to you once Luke had left and knelt on the ground to be eye level with you.
“You put on quite the show just to cave and tell Luke,” he said.
“Yeah, well, your little brother is relentless,” you pouted.
“That he is,” Quinn laughed lightly.
“My brothers will make a big deal of it. I want the beginning of this relationship to be us figuring us out, not them telling us what our relationship is,” you told Quinn. Quinn grabbed your hands in his and kissed them, “Just as long as you know better places we can hide.”
“Trust me, Q, I know a lot of better places than my brother’s hotel room.”
738 notes · View notes
midnightsnyx · 2 years
Text
a touch of honey - matthew tkachuk: part 2
Tumblr media
summary: Looking for a change of scenery after working as a chef at a high end restaurant, you hesitantly take a job as a personal chef for Calgary Flames left winger, Matthew Tkachuk who ends up being the pickiest eater you’ve cooked for. You quickly realize you will have your work cut out for you with this job. Good thing you’re always up for a challenge.
a/n: hi, i’m back from the dead lol i am hoping to write and post a few chapters within the next few weeks cause im going to get brain surgery soon so i’ll be absent AGAIN for awhile. anyways, here is p2 of a touch of honey!! i hope u guys like it and lmk what you think <3 (also, i know he’s traded to florida ((wth??)) but for the sake of this story, lets pretend he isn’t lol)
a touch of honey masterpost
part 2
Matthew Tkachuk was a pain in your ass. The teams nutritionist wasn’t kidding when she said you would have your work cut out for you because you honestly had no idea how this man stayed so fit and healthy when he argued with you that a can of chef boyardee was an acceptable pregame meal.
It’s been about three weeks since you started this job and you’ve only had to cook for him a handful of times because he’s been on a couple road trips. The times you have had to cook for him have been stressful because he turned his nose up at nearly everything you offered.
It’s Sunday – and a day that Matt is off so you’ve been spending the entire day going over different recipes that he would eat. So far, he has agreed on probably ten out of 30 options you served up. You know that not everybody is going to love your cooking but sometimes you feel like Matt says no, just to say no and it infuriates you because it makes you feel like taking this job was a waste of your time. But your contract has you stuck here for the rest of this season so you have to suck it up.
Matt is sitting at the breakfast bar scrolling through his phone while you cook one of the few things he agrees to eat.
He’s been quiet for so long that you’re surprised when he speaks.
“Where did you go to school?”
You look up, raising your eyebrows at his question because he’s never asked any personal questions besides whether or not you were single which had caused you to blush and him smirk when you answered yes, but I’m focusing on myself right now and leaving you mortified when he told you not to make assumptions because he wasn’t hitting on you, he was just curious.
“Le Cordon Bleu,” you say, walking to the stove to stir the pasta.
“Know any French?” He asks and you can hear the insinuation creep into his voice.
“A little.” You say, knowing where he’s going with this. Just because he said he wasn’t hitting on you that day didn’t mean he didn’t occasionally shamelessly flirt with you. You were pretty sure flirting was just one of his many charming personality traits so you never put much thought in to it.
“Can you talk dirty to me in French?” He says suggestively and you roll your eyes. You never felt uncomfortable with his flirting and you knew that if you did, he would stop as soon as you told him to but the truth was that part of you had enjoyed it. You knew he wasn’t serious about it but you hadn’t been on a date in months and it was nice to have someone show a little interest in you, even if it wasn’t serious.
“It’s pretty rusty,” you say casually. “Try me after a bottle of wine.”’
“Is that an invitation?” He jokes and you hide a smile even though he can’t actually see you because your back is to him.
“In your dreams Tkachuk.”
. . .
“So, what’s it like working for one of the hottest guys on the Flames?” Your friend Spencer asks and you roll your eyes at her question.
“Painful.” You say, taking a bite of the pizza she made. It’s pretty good, and you know that she’s watching your reaction.
“Painful because you have to restrain yourself from jumping him?”
“Painful because he’s the pickiest eater I have ever dealt with. And I have cooked for your grandma.” You tell her, laying the remaining pizza on the plate and nodding in approval, “Good pizza.”
She grins and you know that your praise means a lot to her. Any time one of your friends cooked, they always wanted your opinion and suggestions on the meal.
“Besides, it’s written in the contract that I can’t get involved with him.” You say absently as if it wasn’t something that always nagged at you whenever he flirted with you.
“You had to sign a contract saying that?” She asks skeptically and you don’t blame her. It was a little weird and you wanted to question it but you wanted the job so you didn’t want to say anything that would make it seem like you were gunning for the job with the intention of sleeping with him. Even if on occasion, you thought about it but you weren’t an idiot and the contract forbid it.
. . .
“I hear things are going very well.” The teams nutritionist says to you during your first annual meeting which would be scheduled every month to go over the progress. “Matthew is impressed with your cooking.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” You say, trying to hide your excitement. You must not be hiding it good enough from the amused smile on her face. She leans across her desk slightly and raises an eyebrow.
“I know it’s a little premature, but do you think you might be interested in taking this job again next season granted he’s still here? You’re the first chef that’s stayed longer than a month.”
You sometimes still can’t believe he somehow managed to scare off all the other personal chefs. He is without question a pain in the ass, but as a professional, you can’t believe that the others gave up so easily. Still, you don’t want to make any commitments just yet so you smile professionally.
“I’ll definitely think on it and get back to you if that’s alright?”
“Absolutely.” She says, reaching her hand across to shake yours. “I’ll see you next month and if there’s anything you need in the meantime, don’t hesitate to email me.”
You leave her office feeling satisfied, walking towards the staff exit.
“Honey!” you hear a familiar voice shout from down the hallway and you pause, looking over your shoulder to see Matt jogging towards you with a shit eating grin on his face.  You dread what he’s going to say and can’t help but glare at him when he  slings an arm around your shoulders and spins you around so you’re facing the opposite direction that you were walking.
“I want to introduce you to some of the guys.” He explains, and you hesitantly follow him. You do shrug his arm off your shoulders, not wanting anyone to get the wrong impression.
“You didn’t tell me you were going to be here today.” He says casually and you glance at him out of the corner of your eye.
“I cook for you Tkachuk. I’m not your personal assistant.”
“I didn’t - oh, hey Johnny! Come meet Y/N.” He calls out and you look to see Johnny Gaudreau walking towards the two of you. You’re suddenly feeling out of place and have the urge to run but before you know it, Johnny is in front of you, offering his hand so you shake it, forcing a smile on your face.
“Nice to meet you.” You say and he grins.
“Likewise.” Then he glances at Matt with a funny look on his face. You look at Matt only to find him already looking at you making you feel weird and fuzzy inside so you step away and jerk your thumb towards where you had came from.
“I gotta head home. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Matthew.”
When you’re walking away, you take a chance and look back to see the two of them quietly chatting and it’s if Matt can feel your eyes on him because his head turns towards yours before you quickly look away, leaving the building as fast as your feet can take you.
Whatever these sudden feelings you are starting to feel for him, you need to squash them immediately because not only would your job be in jeopardy, so would your easily breakable heart.
107 notes · View notes