#alliyaps

“so, hypothetically, if i wanted to get a pedicure, would they give it to me since i’m a guy?” jack asks you over the phone.

you stop in your tracks, right in front of your car, baffled at the question. “jack, is this seriously what you called me four times about?”

“i mean, yeah. you weren’t picking up. thought you and quinn might be screwing and wanted to break that up as soon as i thought about it,” he admits like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

“jack!” you scolded, scoffing at his crudeness. “i was picking up some snacks for the guys before their game today. i couldn’t even get to my phone if i wanted to,” you roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you.

“you make it sound like you were ignoring me on purpose,” he says, basically being able to hear the pout on his face.

“i wasn’t not ignoring you on purpose.”

he smacks his teeth at your answer, returning to his original question. “anyways, will they do a pedicure on my gnarly man feet or no?”

you don’t even try to hide the laugh that escapes you, opening your door and finally sitting down in your car. “yes jack, they’ll give you a pedicure. are you actually going to go get one?”

“yes! dude, have you seen my feet lately? they’re disgusting. plus, quinn was telling luke and i about that time you made him do one with you and how much better his feet felt in his skates afterwards.”

you think about the fact that quinn now has monthly pedicure appointments with you, not shocked at all that he shared the information with his younger brothers.

“jack! is that y/n? i need to talk to her!” you hear luke yell in the background of jack’s call, stopping whatever response you were about to give.

you hear shuffling, insinuating the exchange of the phone. “hey! y/n! so, i need your advice.”

“hi, luke, i’m good, thanks for asking! how are you?” your voice drips with sarcasm.

“yeah, hi and whatever,” he dismisses you. “so, if you were a girl, would you rather your date wear a pink shirt to show he’s not a toxic guy, or would you rather him wear blue or black to show he’s serious about the date?”

once again, you pause. you look over to the side, as if there’s an invisible camera there and mouth a ‘what?’

“okay, well first of all i am a girl-“

“well yeah, but like…a real girl. one that isn’t dating quinn and would be ready to hop on the luke train,” he interrupts you, earning his own roll of your eyes.

“as i was saying,” you ignore his interruption, “i am a girl, and i don’t think it’s that serious? wear whatever you wanna wear. if she likes you, she likes you. if she doesn’t, she doesn’t. i don’t think wearing pink is going to either hurt or help the date.”

the line is silent for a moment. “i think i’m going to wear pink anyways. you know, just to let her know i’m not a douche,” he finally speaks.

“okay, well, if that’s what you want to do, then do it-“

“thanks, y/n! bye!” you’re cut off yet again, hearing the line go dead. groaning, you call quinn, letting him know you’re on your way with the food.

“hey, baby! you get the catering order yet?” quinn’s excited voice fills your car as you turn it on and put it in drive.

“yeah, i got it. on my way now. just got off the phone with your idiot brothers,” you tell him, pulling out into traffic.

“oh god, what did they want this time?” he asks you, knowing how often you’re plagued with calls from his siblings.

“well, jack wanted to know if he could book a pedicure appointment even though he’s a man, and then luke wanted to know if he should wear pink on his date so he doesn’t look like a douche,” you give the short version of your conversations.

quinn lets out a laugh, not at all surprised at his brothers.

“quinn, we’ve gotta set some ground rules. i can’t keep doing this. i don’t know how you dealt with this by yourself for all these years. and god, your sweet mother. i feel for her,” you say not entirely seriously, knowing they call ellen more than they call you, if that’s even possible.

“baby, they love you. you’re the big sister they never had, they’re just excited to finally have someone to ask this stuff to other than mom. because mom usually tells them to figure it out on their own,” he chuckles, knowing how much both luke and jack have told him they loved having you around.

“well, i’m about to take the ellen approach because they make me want to pull my hair out sometimes, those disgustingly lovable heathens,” you tell your boyfriend, never really being able to say anything bad about the brothers. they’re like excited puppies anytime they get to see you in person, and it does melt your heart a little bit each time.

“i’ll talk to them about it,” quinn’s still laughing at how you can’t help but talk about how much you love his brothers, even when you’re aggravated at them. “just focus on getting here. i miss you, wanna see you before game time.”

“okay, be there in like-“ you stop talking when your ringtone blares through your car.

“god, its jack again. i gotta go, i’ll see you in a few minutes,” you groan, ending the call to answer the interruption.

“what is it this time, jack?”

“okay, scram, you’ve had enough time with her today, she’s mine again,” you hear quinn say as he reaches for your hand and pulls you to stand from the couch.

“quinn! we’re not done with her yet. give us five more minutes!” jack whines, crossing his arms like a toddler.

“yeah, let us spend time with our sister, you get her to yourself all the time,” luke adds.

you laugh, watching the three brothers have a stand off over you. quinn sighs, pinching his nose. “luke, she’s not your sister. she’s my girlfriend, and i’ve hardly seen her all day today. i’d like to at least be able to go eat dinner with her alone.”

jack and luke both whine, acting like they’ve been mortally wounded. “you bring her here, tease us with getting to spend time with her just to steal away again. you’re mean, quinny,” jack pouts.

the sight brings another laugh out of you. it’s the same cycle every time you come to the lake house for a visit. as soon as you step out of the car jack and luke are whisking you away. quinn gives them their time with you, making himself busy doing boat checks and unpacking. but then he gets bored, and he comes to retrieve you.

“boys, i promise, when we get back i’ll make mr. no fun over here play monopoly with us or something. and we’ll bring back dessert,” you place a hand on both of the brothers’ shoulders despite how they tower over you.

“fine…but only if i can be the dog,” luke agrees, looking over at jack, who’s being slightly more stubborn.

“i guess…that’ll work,” he eventually spits out. “but i want ice cream. and i get to be the racecar!”

patting both of them on the cheek you giggle as you walk over to join your boyfriend, watching how he rolls his eyes at you. “don’t encourage their behavior, baby. they’re already insufferable enough as it is.”

“quinn, they’re just excited. i love them, they’re the little brothers i never had. you should be happy they love me so much,” you slip your hand around his arm, walking towards the front door.

✶ hope you had the best day alli, baby!! ‹𝟹

oh harls, my beautiful, beautiful quinn lover.

of course quinn would be in the need of some…rage activities once he got home. he’d be seething the entire bus ride back to the hotel, thinking about how cocky those assholes on the kings were all night. i mean, the hit on brock? the multiple intentional penalties? the cheap move from clarke?

it was all he could do to contain himself until his penalty, finally having had enough of the nasty plays. and while he was letting himself seethe and stew in his hatred, all he could think about is the fact you’re going to be waiting in his hotel room for him.

when he walks through the door, you’re laying on the king sized bed, having received his text he sent you from the locker room directly after the game.

naked. on the bed. now. absolutely no touching yourself (trust me, i’ll fucking know). don’t move until i say so.

he made you send him a picture for confirmation, wanting to know you’ll be so worked up in anticipation by the time he walks through that door you’ll be putty in his hands.

and while he’s already worked up and agitated from the game, the sight of your hand snaked between your legs, head thrown back onto his pillow, soft pants falling from your lips, has him seeing red.

he drops his bag loudly, seeing as you were so lost in the feeling of your own fingers you didn’t hear the heavy door open and shut.

the sound finally startles you out of your blissful state, arms flying up to cover yourself in a panic, dropping them to rest on your stomach when you realize it’s just quinn. the look on his face, however, does nothing to calm your racing heart.

“thought i told you specifically not to touch yourself,” he grits out, clenching his jaw so tightly he could barely speak.

you still, having been so ready and needy you completely forgot about the rule. sitting there, bare pussy exposed to the chill of the room, was torturous in the best way. you could feel yourself drip onto the freshly made bed, so the initial contact was simply the swipe of a finger to try and prevent any further mess. but the warm contrast of your finger on the cold slick of your cunt felt too good, spurring you to give your clit just a brief touch. just enough to hold you over.

before you knew it, you heard the thud of quinn’s bag and clearing of his throat, not even remembering how you ended up knuckle deep in your own core.

“i-i’m so sorry. it’s just, it was cold, and i was so wet, so i tried to clean myself up a bit, but my finger was so warm, and then i thought just one touch wouldn’t hurt,” you ramble out one long run-on sentence trying to plead your case.

“oh, i see” he starts walking towards you, quickly stripping himself of his t-shirt. “you were so ready for me, that you couldn’t wait on me, is that it?”

your face heats, realizing how pathetic it all is, really.

“well, when you put it like that…” you can’t even make eye contact with him, looking down at his hands instead.

quinn starts to untie the string on his sweatpants, letting them drop and walking right out of them as he comes to a stop at the end of the large bed.

“yeah…that’s what i thought,” he smacks his teeth at you in disapproval, shaking his head back and forth.

you take in the sight of him before you. toned body, pale skin, and my god, the hair. you’ve always been one to love body hair on a man, but seeing his large, exposed thighs, and the perfect dusting of the thick, dark hairs all over them, has your hand itching to find its way back between your slick folds.

he starts to palm himself over his boxers, earning a whimper from you in return. the noise piques his interest, eyebrow raising as he looks down at you.

“oh…you want this?” he reaches down to free his thick cock, sighing at the relief of the cloth restriction.

you don’t know if you should respond or not, scared of the consequences either way. you decide on an eager nod, mouth nearly watering at the sight.

“yeah, figured you did. always so needy, so ready to be whatever i need you be,” he says dismissively. “and lucky for you, i need this tonight, too. or i’d make you sit here and watch me stroke myself until i couldn’t take anymore, spewing everything i have all over you and this bed before making you go to sleep needy and unsatisfied. your punishment for touching yourself before i could get here.”

he must be able to see the panic in your eyes at the possibility, knowing he’s upset but surely he’s not that upset with you.

“but,” he starts, rubbing his thumb over his pink tip, “i think what i have planned is punishment enough. plus, i need you tonight, my sweet girl. need you to be my vice, my cure for all these…feelings i have pent up.”

you feel the physical jolt your core does, causing your body to flinch.

quinn discards his underwear entirely, placing one knee on the plush bed to start making his way to your body. you’re still sprawled out, skin buzzing at the thought of his touching yours.

once he’s hovering above you on all fours, he brings his head down to place a feather light kiss to your lips. when he pulls away, you chase him, pouting at the barely there contact.

“nope. only kiss you’ll get tonight, i’m afraid,” he sits up on his knees, in-between your open legs.

you whine out, always loving the hot, open-mouth kisses you two share while he’s inside of you.

“ehh, no more whining, either. should’ve thought about that before you broke the rules,” he scolds you, bringing his hands down to move your legs up, bending both of your knees so your feet rest flat on the bed.

once your knees are bent, he takes your hands that were resting on your stomach and splay them out on their respective sides.

“now, since you didn’t do like i asked you to so nicely, even though i’m so, so mad tonight, no touching me,” he looks down into your eyes as he says it, making sure you understand his rules.

“so, no kissing, no touching, no whining? what, i’m basically your sex doll tonight?” you sass him, rolling your eyes.

now, you expected a reaction out of him. it was your intent, actually. you expected a small smack to the leg, or a wagging finger with a stern look.

what you didn’t expect was to feel his hand come up and grasp your face, squishing your cheeks together so hard you’re forced to bite them just to allow any sort of give from the pressure.

he jerks your face to look at him, bringing his own so close you can feel his hot, angry breath on your face.

“that’s exactly right. you’re my doll tonight. mine to use as i see fit. however i want. you know why?” he pauses, heaving breaths in and out as he waits, as if you’d actually be able to answer him. “because i’m mad. i’m mad that the stupid kings thought they could beat up on my team tonight and get away with it. i’m mad that brock was taken out during the first period because of a purposeful hit. i’m mad, because the one thing i asked you to do, you couldn’t fucking do it.”

he’s seething at this point, an animalistic kind of anger radiating through his body.

your heart races in both fear and excitement. you hardly ever get to see this side of quinn, and you don’t know exactly what all was said or done on that ice tonight, but you’re sure you’re going to be able to feel the effects of it all for the next few days to come.

he releases your cheeks roughly, standing tall on his knees.

“since you claim you were so wet earlier you just couldn’t resist starting without me, too drunk on your own fingers to know what you were doing, you shouldn’t need any help then, should you?” he asks, reaching down to feel the arousal pooling in your exposed heat.

you want to whine. you want to whine and protest and complain, but before you can even think about breaking another rule of his, your breath is knocked from your lungs.

without any warning whatsoever, quinn slams into you completely, leaving no inch of your canal untouched. on instinct, you start to reach your arms up to grasp onto him, needing to ground yourself to him.

“i wouldn’t, if i was you,” he growls out, pulling out completely before slamming into you again, gripping one of your hips for stability.

dropping them back down to the mattress, you grasp the sheets so tightly you worry you’ll rip them.

your body jolts with each slam of his rigid cock into your hole, completely removing himself each time before snapping his hips so forcefully you swear you can feel it in your throat.

“god, have no clue how fucking angry i’ve been tonight”, he huffs out, not faltering his pace. “all night, watched those smug goons think they could do whatever they wanted, to whoever they wanted. then the refs wouldn’t even let me return the favor when given the chance. it’s bullshit,” he spits with a particularly harsh thrust.

you’re trying your best to lay there, unmoving, occupying your hands with the soft cotton underneath you. a choked sob of pleasure makes its way out when he hits a spot so deep inside of you, you had no clue it existed until this moment.

“but knew i was gonna get to come home to you,” he continues, distracted momentarily by the bounce of your tits with each thrust. “my sweet, sweet girl who always listens to what i say. who’s always so ready to do what i need her to do for me.”

he reaches up to pinch one of your hard nipples. you flinch, but remember to keep your hands down.

“and imagine my surprise, when i walk in the door to see you already making yourself feel good after i told you to wait on me,” he switches his hand to your other nipple, show it some attention. “made me so fucking angry all over again. was so prepared to come in and take care of you, low and slow all night. a treat for you and for me. but you just had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”

at this point, even if you wanted to speak you couldn’t. you’re quite literally being fucked dumb right now. the effort of keeping your body still isn’t even a challenge anymore, limbs so heavy with pleasure you’re basically his to manipulate and use as he wishes.

you don’t even feel your orgasm approaching. one second you’re listening to his frustrations, the next you’re half deaf and seeing stars.

quinn stutters only slightly, abandoning his touch on your tits to move his hand to your throbbing clit.

“god, this was so fucking easy. this turn you on? me mad at you, not letting you do what you want, just like i didn’t get to do what i wanted?” he talks you through your bliss, watching your body shake and shiver while he continues his deep thrusts.

his fast circles on your clit don’t ease up, even after you’ve come down from your high. you try to wiggle your body away, your sensitivity making you squirm.

quinn’s grip on your hip tightens, halting your movement.

“don’t fucking move,” growls at you, basking at how easy it is for him to glide in and out of you, his dick covered in your release. “you’re gonna give me another one, i don’t care how sensitive you are. know you can do it. my own little slut.”

the name surprises you, quinn never really has been one for using stuff like that in the bedroom. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t cause the feelings of another release to start swirling again, though.

his resolve starts to deteriorate, but he’s determined to milk one more from you before he enjoys his own release.

“c’mon. it’s the least you can do f’me, really,” he grunts, somehow rubbing even faster circles on your swollen bundle of nerves. “after no one at the game would let me retaliate, and after i had to sit in the fucking box for two minutes for just returning a little bit of what they dished out all night, giving me all you’ve got isn’t a lot to ask, is it?”

you try to shake your head, but the increased pace of his forceful thrusts causes your head to bob all over the place.

he can feel your walls starting to flutter again already, knowing it won’t take much to send you over the edge.

keeping his hand in between your legs, applying both pressure and friction to your clit now, he bends his body over to attach his mouth to your tit, showing the the area attention once again. he swirls his tongue around your sensitive nub.

the feeling alone is delectable, causing you to writhe in pleasure. but the second you feel his teeth encase the delicate bud, biting down, you explode yet again.

you don’t think you’ve ever come so hard in your life. you cry out, so loud and so pornographic quinn worries someone will complain, but loving every second of the sound.

you’re convulsing underneath him, tears leaking from your closed eyes at the intensity of the pleasure radiating throughout your body.

“fuck, that’s it. swear your pussy’s trying to trap me in there, doesn’t want me to leave,” quinn groans, feeling like his dick is literally being suctioned into your body.

after a few more sloppy thrusts, his balls tighten and he coats your walls with his release. he moans out, mixing with your perfect whimpers and whines as the shocks of his own orgasm cause you to twitch.

after he’s sure your body has sucked him dry, quinn pulls out of you, pushing your knees down so he can roll over to the side of you, throwing his own tired body in the mattress.

you both lay beside one another, panting and letting your bodies catch back up to you. he reaches over to grab your hand, every ounce of anger having left his body through his orgasm.

he’s back to being his usual, soft self, as he rolls over to place a kiss to your temple.

you’ve come to a little bit, turning your head to look over at his smiling face.

“maybe…maybe i should start a pact with these teams you play each week to make you mad and rile you up during games more often,” you softly speak, voice slightly hoarse from your orgasmic screaming. “if this is what i get in return, think it’d be worth the price,” you smirk at quinn.

he lets out a quiet chuckle at your words, bringing a hand to brush some hair out of your face, finally placing a real kiss to your lips.

when he pulls back you open your eyes to admire him, but are met with a serious, stern expression.

i will live and die by the fact that man is the most intense but gentle lover there ever is.

it’s like, day by day his love is quiet and reserved, but looking back over the course of your relationship, you realize just how intense his love really is. because of course he’s vocal about the fact he loves you, never leaving it unsaid anytime you two part, even if just for a few minutes.

but really, it’s all the things he does you don’t even know about. it’s the days you come home and forget there was a pile of laundry you told yourself you needed to do, because it’s done already.

it’s the moments when you talk about needing to go to the store to replace your favorite coffee creamer, but groggily opening the fridge the next morning to a fresh bottle, not even registering the added weight in your hands.

it’s never running out of your favorite skincare products, somehow always having an endless supply. always having your favorite snack on hand. always having a full tank of gas. always having a soft blanket on your side of the couch.

day to day, these things don’t even cross your mind. your routine is so…routine, that you never wonder why all of these thing are. they just are.

until you see quinn come home after practice with a few bags in hand, one branded exactly the same as your favorite nighttime serum. or a grocery bag with a familiar looking carton poking through the frosted plastic.

you don’t question it until you walk out of the bathroom after a shower to him sitting a full cup of water on your night stand, that way you can crawl right into bed. not until you step into the living room to see him folding your favorite blanket, freshly washed, and tossing it over the back of the couch where you always sit.

your suspicion isn’t there until you get back from a walk to see your car gone, but quinn’s still in its parking spot.

you never wonder why your favorite flowers on the kitchen table never wilt until you see the branded brown paper from the local florist in the trash can.

the point is, you never think about it because you don’t have to. quinn does everything he can to show he cares about you, he loves you, he sees you. and he does it quietly, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

so yeah, day to day he might be quiet, focused on hockey and his team, watching footage of old games and opposing teams while you’re reading next to him on the couch, but he’s never quiet with his love for you. not really.

“just say the word, and i promise it all stops. it all starts and ends with you,” he’d check just one more time you’re sure, almost feeling guilty for what he’s about to do.

“swear on my life, neeks. give me everything you’ve got. please,” you whine and squirm, his outburst on the ice earlier planting a seed in your brain only he can grow.

his eyes darken, your pleas all he needs to spur him on, slamming into you so hard you see stars, gripping your hips with a bruising pressure.

he gives you no warnings, no recovery, just slamming into you over and over again, every ounce of anger he felt on the ice being transferred to your body.

your body jolts with each thrust, thankful the two of you won the argument for a plush headboard in this exact moment. his grunts are animalistic and guttural, never having heard sounds like this from him before. they make your body melt into his even more, not having enough brain power to think about the implications of why this is all so hot for you.

“swear, just can’t get them to do anything right. s’like trying to teach monkeys how to play hockey,” he grunts, using the physical outlet to purge the mental frustrations as well. “s’like i’m the only one on that ice that gives a shit about anything. they won’t shoot, won’t block, aren’t there for passes. a bunch of idiotic fucks.”

you would respond, but the moment you open your mouth, his fingers immediately fill the space. you swirl your tongue around the digits, sucking lightly. the action earns a particularly deep groan, throwing his head back like it’s the most erotic thing he’s ever experienced.

“don’t wanna hear anything other than my name from these pretty little lips, got it?” his eyes bore down onto yours, waiting for your small nod of agreement. “if i can’t get the performance from the guys i want, you’re gonna give me the performance i want in here.”

his command wasn’t even that harsh or demanding, but you’ll be damned if it didn’t make your eyes nearly roll back into your head. when he slips his fingers from your mouth his names becomes the only word in your vocabulary. repeated over and over and over again, never stopping.

you can feel his grip on your hips tighten, making you wonder how many purple splotches you’ll be able to count tomorrow morning. his thrusts get more aggressive as your whines of his name get louder and louder, teetering on the edge of pathetic, but you don’t care.

he thrusts into you the harshest and deepest he has yet, and it causes your body to erupt into the most intense bliss you’ve ever felt, feeling nico’s own body still and his deep voice cry out a loud “FUCK!”

you convulse and shake beneath him, wondering when the waves of pleasure are gonna stop. nico’s still hovered above you, blinking his eyes in a daze.

he pulls his softening dick out of you, a whimper escaping your still shaking body. the waves of pleasure are still subsiding when he climbs off the bed, returning a few seconds later with a warm washcloth and a fresh pair of boxers on.

when he goes to clean you up, you whine and whimper at how sensitive you are, nico’s soft ‘shhhs’ not doing much to calm you.

he crawls into bed beside of you, lifting the bed sheet to cover your bare body, pulling you against him.

“y’alright, sweet girl?” nico whispers as he nudges his nose into your neck, back to his sweet and attentive self. you hum back a “mhmmm,” nestling into his warm body.

you can feel him smirk into your skin, his rumbling voice causing goosebumps to rise. “didn’t realize y’liked when i’m so rough. maybe we should explore this more often.”

the thought brings another whine from your throat, wanting to roll over away from him, but you’re trapped in his arms, any kind of movement impossible.

“god, let a girl recover a bit, yeah? think my vagina is gonna fall off if you put those images in my head right now.”

nico erupts in full on belly laughter, amused at this new discovery. “well not right now, no. just…gonna keep it in mind anytime i try to tell myself not to get too worked up during a game. might…slip and let a hit or two through if i know this is what i have waiting on me when i get home.”

You guys are still in the same friend group so sometimes you still have to see each other during gatherings or in passing and it’s just little things that Quinn does or says that makes you realize you never fell out of love with him. Like he knew you were coming out on the boat for the day with them so he stocked up on your fav snacks to put on the boat. Or maybe he heard you were sick from his brothers so he insta carts stuff to your house. Just things that makes it blatantly obvious that he still cares.

oh he’s using every opportunity. you drank too much and need a ride home from the bar? he stopped drinking the second you ordered your third drink.

you mention in a gc you’ve been craving a certain type of food? it shows up at your door in an hour.

your friend mentions that you’ve been feeling homesick lately? your parents, somehow, mysteriously, found the money in their budget for a couple of place tickets to see you.

he would be so subtle, so nonchalant with it you don’t even notice until you look back. it’s like he never left. he’s always just…there. waiting.

it’s not like the two of you had some big, blow out break up. it was more so like you still loved him, but you needed to love yourself more. so you’re still friendly. you still speak when in groups together and you still frequent games.

but it’s like his presence in your life never really faltered, even though the absence is what you said you needed.

so one day, when you pretended to order drinks, you noticed the way his glass stayed empty as long as yours stayed full. you mentioned in a gc without him you were craving italian food, and for once, it never showed up.

you kept noticing all the things he was still doing for you, and against your will, your resolve cracked. you knew he loved you, and you still loved him, but you figured he’d quit paying attention after awhile.

but he never did.

and when you confronted him about it? well…he didn’t even deny any of it. he admitted to it like he was saying the sky was blue, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“well, why would i stop? you need someone to look after you, and i don’t trust anyone else to do it, so why stop doing what i love for who i love?”

his words were like a punch to your gut, because why, why couldn’t he have just said those things when you two were together?

“quinn, it’s not that simple. you just weren’t…there.”

that? saying he was never there? that made him angry. because while he may not have been physically there, he was always there.

“that’s bullshit. that’s bullshit and you know it. yeah, i might not have been able to be with you all the time, but don’t ever fucking tell me i wasn’t there, y/n, because i’ve always only ever been there.”

he points to your chest as he says it. his outburst surprises you, but it makes you think.

yeah, maybe he was gone all the time, but somehow your car always stayed cleaned and serviced, without you even realizing. maybe he was in a different country most of the time, but there was never a lack of fresh flowers in your apartment. maybe he wasn’t able to be on his phone all the time, but your voicemail was never empty, sweet recordings littering the inbox.

so yeah, maybe he wasn’t always there, but he was never really absent, was he?

not much, honestly

was thinking about how absolutely rabid he’d be after that canes game, all high on winning. but unfortunately for him, you’d be out of service for a few more days, mother nature having paid you a visit a couple of days ago. of course you’d help him out, giving him a nice, long, treat on your knees to reward him for the victory, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until he could have all of you.

he’d be such a little menace about it too. snaking his arms around you while you’re in front of the mirror, doing your hair, letting them rest dangerously low on your waist. little smacks to your ass anytime you pass by him. waking you up in the morning by rutting his morning semi against your ass.

and when the two of you are out in public? god, he’s almost worse than when you’re at home. drinks with the guys turned into you being trapped in the booth, nico’s hand resting high on your thigh, fingers brushing you over your underwear. you knew wearing this dress was risky, especially with how he’s been the last couple days, but you figured since you would be out with the guys he’d be on his best behavior. but of course you were wrong. his long pinky makes long, drawn out circles on your barely covered clit, working you up continuously just to casually slide his hand away. only to do it all over again every ten minutes.

then, when you came to visit him at the rink for lunch, he was dragging you into a random corner, kissing you like he was trying to take all of the oxygen from your body. his heavy frame pinning you against the smooth wall of whatever deserted hallway you were in. he knew you were close to being his again, having his own tracker app on his phone for your cycle. which also means he knew you were in the stage where you were becoming increasingly more desperate and horny as the hours ticked by.

“nico…not here. please. you know we can’t. just another day or so,” you’d pant out, so close to just letting him have his way with you anyways. his response would be a hand coming up to cup over your sex, digging the palm of his hand into your clothed clit. “just think of everything you could’ve had already. all the fun you’ve missed out on, caused me to miss out on” he whispers gruffly in your ear, biting the sensitive skin there. “don’t you think i finally deserve my reward for having such a good game the other night?”

you let out a harsh gasp, the sight of your open mouth and perfect tongue poking out combined with your wild eyes nearly enough to make him start ripping clothes off right here, not a care in the world if anyone would see the two of you or not. he brings a hand up to pinch your bottom lip between his fingers, pulling the skin out. he has the urge to do something he never has before, which is letting a dribble of spit drop directly from his mouth into the small pocket created by your outstretched bottom lip.

he watches your pupils dilate in surprise, releasing your skin so it snaps back into place. he looks down at your throat, watching you swallow the saliva he just transferred to you. he smirks, knowing by the look on your face, and clench of your thighs, he’s almost got you.

you hear footsteps approaching the two of you, straightening up and pushing nico away from you only slightly, not wanting to get caught in a compromising position in his workplace. an equipment manager rounds the corner, looking up when he notices the two of you and waves.

“hey cap! got that new stick in you were wanting! on my way to go pick it up now, actually. meet me out on the ice?” he waves in greeting, cheery attitude showing he’s excited about the delivery.

“sure thing! see you out there in a few!” nico responds just as enthusiastically, a stark contrast from his demeanor mere seconds ago. you both watch the man retreat down the hallway, having given you a small wave of goodbye, which you returned.

“okay well…i’ll…uh…see you at home, yeah?” you clear your throat, hardly able to concentrate on the words you’re speaking.

“mhmm. see you in a bit,” he places a kiss to your forehead, backing away from your still stunned figure. “oh! and stop by the kitchen on your way out. grab a water, you seem a little…thirsty,” he smirks at you as he walks backwards, teasing you for just how quick you were to accept and swallow his spittle moments ago.

that night when he returned home, he couldn’t find you anywhere. you weren’t in the living room on the couch, in the small kitchen, in the bedroom. when he called out your name you emerged from the shared walk in closet, clad in his favorite lingerie set of yours.