#c.parayko

Sitting on the couch with puffy eyes and a large bowl of ice cream is not the usual way you choose to spend your Sundays, but right now this was really the only thing you wanted to do, so here you were, stuffing spoonfuls in your face while flicking through the romance section on Netflix. 

Lauren had insisted on coming over after you told her about your seven am escape from Colton’s apartment before he woke up. She brought all your favorites, and you were starting to feel a little bit better already.

You’ve just decided on Pretty Woman, and you’re waiting for Lauren to come back with the popcorn when the doorbell rings. She yells to you that she’ll get it, and you don’t really think anything of it until she’s staring at you with a panicked look in her eyes. 

The way that she says your name is more than enough information, and you know exactly who’s on the other side of your front door. Lauren is asking questions, but all of them are jumbled in your head, and you can’t really hear her clearly. 

It takes you about two minutes to actually get up off the couch, and another two minutes to make it to the door still standing. 

“Colton-” You start but he cuts you off.

“You said what you needed to last night. Now it’s my turn, just listen, okay?”

His words are sharp and fast, and you’re scared for what he has to say but you nod despite that. 

“I know that you’re mad at me, and I know that you feel like I’ve been using you, and I’m sorry, that was never my intention.” He starts, out of breath and then eases into his words. He had to have rehearsed this. “I know that you think we should end this, but I can’t do that.”

You’re about to jump in, tell him that it’s what’s best, but he stops you again. “I think about you every second of every day. The last eight months without seeing you, or hearing your voice... It was torture. I love you way too much to just get over you.” Now he looks like he’s debating going off script, and you see the shift, the mental rip of the speech.

“I think that the worst- I don’t know, it’s, fuck. Like, the hardest part of this- for me, has been that...” His gaze drops while he stutters over his words and you can tell he’s nervous to open up. “I don’t know, neither of us did anything wrong... We didn’t lie, or cheat, I left still loving you.”

His words are coming from the heart now, and you can see his struggle. All you want to do is take his hand and hold it while he talks, but you’re so out of it you can’t actually bring yourself to do it.

His voice drops a decibel for his next sentence, the change in pitch making it resonate even more. “I’m not about to do that again. I can’t live with that kind of ending.”

The dramatic pause while he pulls an envelope out of his back pocket is almost enough for you to guess what exactly is in there, and your stomach drops.

“Colton,” His name leaves your mouth as a small plea not to do what you know he’s going to.

“I leave for St Louis in three days.” When he says it your stomach drops even further. “I want you to come see me, so this is for you. It leaves in a week.” He holds out the ticket but you’re so shocked that you’re frozen in place. “Please just consider it,” He begs, and you finally convince yourself to move, taking the paper from his hand.

He takes a step backward like he’s about to leave, but then he stops like he’s reconsidering, sighing he speaks so lowly that you almost don’t hear it.

“I’m not ready to say goodbye to you yet.”

.....

They were the words he said to you the night you came to his hotel room. They were the words that convinced you to stay then, and they’re the words that convince you to go now.

You’re really not sure why you’re doing this... Why Colton wanted you to come. Was this a detachment trip? Or a getting back together trip?

You hate the way your heart literally flutters thinking about the latter. You’ve gotten your hopes up with him before, so you tell yourself you’re not going to do it again. You’re nineteen, he’s twenty five. No matter how much you love each other nothing will change that. This is a detachment trip. You can’t be together. This is the last time.

You’re pulling your suitcase off of the baggage belt, and for the third time since you got on the plane, you start to regret your decision. But Lauren literally would have put you on the plane herself if you hadn’t talked yourself into it, so you’d be here either way. But this is the last time.

The last time.

You’re saying it over and over again in your head, walking with one final door between the two of you now, your suitcase strolling behind you as you push open the doors from customs. Your eyes scan the crowd, and of course you spot him easily.

His blonde head is sticking up far above everyone else’s, and you can’t help the smile that overtakes your face when you see the bright grin he wears.

When you get to him he pulls you into a hug, but it feels unusual, his arms are stiff, but you can’t blame him after your last meeting. The only contact you guys had had from the last time you’d seen one another, was three short text messages.

You’d sent him a “see you soon ✈️” to let him know you’d made your decision, and he’d simply replied with a heart. Texting you a day later to say “8:45, I’ll pick you up.”

When you pull back you can see his eyes drop down to your mouth, and you can tell he wants to kiss you, but instead he opts to press his lips to your forehead, playing it safe.

You allow yourself to falter for the quickest second though, because if this is your final hello, you don’t want it to be safe. Slinging your arms around his neck to tug him down, you meet him halfway, standing up on your toes to press your lips to his.

He relaxes the moment you do this, arms tightening around your waist to lift you off the ground. Wrapping your legs around his torso is too much for an airport, but you do it anyway, trying to pretend you’re in your own little world.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” He whispers, dipping his head into your neck. You nod in response while he sets you back down, pulling your carry on bag off of your shoulder and onto his own. You’d argue but it won’t go anywhere, so you let him take both your bags and lead you to his truck.

He opens the door for you, and puts your bags in the back just like the gentlemen he is, and you can’t help but smile when he climbs in beside you, wearing the biggest grin. Reaching over to take your hand he leaves them connected and resting in your lap.

Throughout the drive he makes little comments about places, pointing out the window at restaurants he likes or places he’s visited. At one point he pulls your hands up, pressing his lips to the back of your hand while he talks, and you’re trying not to smile so big that it almost hurts.

“This is where we’re going after the first game on Friday,” He announces, nodding his head to a fancy looking restaurant with glass windows. “We’ll go with a few of the boys.”

He says it like it’s no big deal but your heart feels like it’s about to stop at the thought of it. You’re meeting his friends? You’re going to a game? “Huh?” You manage to mumble, and he grins, sensing your surprise.

“That okay?” He asks, and of course it’s not, but you nod anyway.

Colton pulls into the parking garage of an expensive looking apartment building, pulling into a spot before cutting the engine.

You’re starting to feel a little overwhelmed, so you stay in your seat while he goes around to open your door and pull out your things. Stumbling out of the car finally, you’re looking around in awe of the stairwell to the lobby because it’s nicer than the entirety of your house in Edmonton. And it’s a damn stairwell!

The lobby of the building looks like Caesars palace, and your head is turning frantically, looking at all the decor while still trying to keep up with Colton. Once you’re in the elevator, which of course, is super nice, you glare at Colton. “Where the hell do you live? And why isn’t your place in Saint this nice?” You ask, referring to his hometown.

“Kendra and Kennedy picked it,” He laughs, widening his eyes at you while he ducks out of the elevator. “Wait until you see the actual apartment,”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t in love with the place. It was spacious, modern, and Colton at the same time. Hockey memorabilia and family pictures on the shelves, a noticeable color scheme. He definitely didn’t do this.

“Kennedy and Kendra do the interior design too?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“They asked a professional.” He says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I don’t wanna hear it, okay?” He interrupts before you can say anything. “I already get enough heat from the guys.”

“I love it Colton.”

He looks at you for a second like he’s worried you might be kidding, but then he grins a little and takes your hand, tugging you closer to him so he can lean down to press his lips to yours. Letting his arms wrap you up is the easiest thing because he feels so familiar and so good, and the transition from your current position to the next is so easy that you barely even notice until you’ve been lifted off the ground. Colton walks easily to the couch, sitting relatively smoothly even with the drop.

His wandering hands squeeze your ass through your jeans, while his lips fall down to your neck. You don’t quite realize exactly where this is going until your heart isn’t the only thing throbbing anymore.

As nice as it is you can’t fully enjoy it, because you know what’s gonna happen, what has to happen. Thinking about it leaves you feeling like you’re going to throw up, and that makes it really easy to side step his advances. Abruptly you stand from his lap, and he looks like a child who just had a toy taken away. “I’m really tired,” You tell him. Lie.

“Oh shit yeah,” He mumbles, getting to his feet. “Sorry.” You know he genuinely means it and you feel so guilty you almost want to suck his dick to make up for it. He is so sweet. “I’ll bring your bags up, and you can get settled. Then we’ll go to bed,”

We.

Fuck. How did it not occur to you that you’d be sleeping in the same bed? God, this trip is going to be torture. The thought of enduring a night next to him when you’re already turned on is making you want to end things now, but instead of turning around to walk out the door, you nod carefully.

You spend the next twenty minutes going through your night time routine, trying not to think about how Colton will be sleeping right next to you. Probably not wearing a shirt. Just picturing it is making you want to slide a hand into your panties. 

Taking a minute to splash cold water on your face, you emerge from the bathroom, trying to avoid looking at Colton altogether. You pretend to be busy, scrolling through Instagram, unable to get through a single sentence because you can feel him coming up behind you.

“These are cute,” There’s definitely a smirk on his face as he runs his fingers over the lace trim on your flamingo sleep shorts.

“Thanks,” You smile awkwardly, crawling onto the bed to get away from him. That’s when you finally catch a glimpse of his attire, or lack there of.

Fuck this.

He’s looking drool worthy with no shirt on, and of course, grey sweatpants. Was this a planned attack? Cause it was certainly starting to feel like it.

He crawls in next to you, and your heart skips a beat when he lays his arm out, nodding his head for you to come closer. It’s your favorite way to sleep, tucked into his side, his arm acting as your pillow. He looks way too comfortable to decline so even though you shouldn’t, you fold yourself into his him, laying your top arm on his torso.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Lips press into your hair, his hand coming to rest on top of your own. “I’m really glad you’re here,”

And despite everything that you know is coming, at this moment, you are too. 

.....

The next five days breeze past, and you and Colton fall back into your rhythm so easily it’s almost like it’s scripted. Everything is the same, and it feels like this is how it’s supposed to be, which is why it kills you to know that it’s not. 

Almost every part of being here with him is easy. Almost. 

Sidestepping his sexual advances is the very hard part. You’re still not exactly sure why he asked you to come here, but you’re pretty sure it wasn’t just for sex. However, it seems like he thought that sex would be a bonus because he hasn’t stopped trying to get you into bed. 

You’re elbows deep in a sink of distraction dishes when Colton comes home from practice. Their first preseason game is tonight, and you’re going. You turn and take a quick look, forcing yourself to turn back around when he lifts his arm to scratch the back of his neck. His bicep flexes in an all too sensual way and you’re reminded instantly of the heat pooling in between your legs.

“Hey,” He mumbles putting his phone down on the counter. “You don’t have to do those, you know.” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple. His hand lingers on your waist as he by passes you, and you try to squirm out of his hold without being too noticeable.

“I don’t mind, I want to help out.” You scrub the plate in your hand harder, fully aware of the fact that it’s completely clean. It’s one of the last two dishes in the sink and if you finish then you might actually have to talk to him, and that’ll only make matters worse.

In your peripheral vision you see him take a bottle of water from the fridge, taking a sip of it while settling against the counter. You know he’s watching you, and suddenly your skin is getting really hot.

His staring continues, and so does your unnecessary scrubbing. When he starts to walk closer, you start to scrub harder and Colton chuckles, large hands covering your hips again. “I think it’s clean, Y/N.”

When he slides a hand up to your neck you release a shaky breath, squeezing your eyes shut while he sweeps the hair from the area. “Just making sure,”

Colton presses a kiss below your ear while you rinse the plate and it slips out of your hand, clattering into the other clean dishes.

“I really like watching you in my kitchen,” He whispers, “Is that sexist?”

“Totally,” You whisper back, unable to help the way that you instinctively lean back into him. God this is impossible.

“Sorry,” He laughs, warm breath fanning over your neck. “Seeing you here, comfortable, I don’t know there’s just something so sexy about it.”

You tighten your grip on the bowl in the sink, the hot water making you feel even more feverish. His lips press against your skin again, hands pulling your hips back into him. It’s obvious what he wants, and you know you shouldn’t let it go any farther so you make a weak attempt to stop him.

“Colton, my-my hands are wet.”

“Just your hands?”

His response is so quick you can’t help but laugh. “I don’t think it happens that fast,” You reply, loving the way that he nudges your head to the side with his, dragging his teeth across your skin.

Colton snorts, biting your earlobe, and you turn at his sarcastic noise, raising your brows at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” He raises his hands and you slap at his chest, leaving a wet spot on his grey shirt.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You repeat, trying to get to the base of his thoughts. “That snort! That was obviously a sarcastic snort.”

Colton laughs, a hand catching on your wrist to try and pull you into him. And man, you just wanna let him too, but now you’re thinking that you’re onto something. Plus this could possibly prolong the process, and give you some time to gain back your will power. “I know it doesn’t happen that fast, I was just- I mean you were obviously already turned on,” The way he says it so innocently almost makes you miss it completely.

How did he know?!

“Wha- I am n- no! What?” You’re struggling to find words now, trying to deny- what was apparently quite clearly- the truth.

The wide smile on his lips has your face turning an embarrassing shade of red, and he raises his brows at you, shaking his head slightly. “O-kay.”

“Yeah.” You finalize, making a face before turning back to the sink. Dipping your hands back into the water, in a mocking tone a quick you give him a quick, “O-kay.”

You think that you’re done, that you’ve actually managed to side step one of his attempts to get you into bed, but then there’s a sharp sting on your ass and you flip around, scowling at the smirking blonde.

“Tell me what’s got you so worked up,” He insists, the stupid grin still handsome as ever. He twists the tea towel again, winding up for another snap, but you lunge forward to grab it. “Is it my post practice glow?” He wiggles his brows at you and you roll your eyes.

“I’m not worked up.” You say back, matter of factly.

“Sure,” He draws it out, making sure that you can hear the sarcasm.

He watches you intently- obviously finding the whole situation rather amusing- as you twist the fabric and let it fly. It hits his arm and he laughs, barely flinching. “Y/N, we’ve had sex like twenty times. I know what it looks like when you’re turned on.”

“Oh please!” You argue, when did he get so cocky? He couldn’t possibly know just from looking at you when you were turned on.

But then again he was pretty spot on right now. Fuck.

“You’re projecting, Colton.” You try to tread backwards, tossing the towel on the counter, sinking your hands back into the soapy water. “Why don’t you tell me what’s got you so worked up?”

Silence ensues and you wait eagerly for his response, knowing full well that you have not side stepped his advances, and you are most definitely going to end up with your panties around your ankles. Doesn’t mean you’re not going to be difficult about it though.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” He finally says.

“That and your ass looks fucking incredible in those leggings.” He continues, and you squeal when he lands a hard slap on the area. It’s kind of infuriating the way that it only turns you on more. You’re practically throbbing and all he’s done is make witty comments and slap your butt.

His large hand travels up, pressuring the middle of your back hard enough that you fold, bending with the gasp underneath his touch. You’re about to mumble something about your hair getting on the dish water, but when you make no movements his hands are right back on your butt and you roll your eyes.

He slaps it again and you huff, chuckling and standing up stand straight. “Chill,” You mutter, pushing back against him only to pull forward so he’s further away.

The space doesn’t last long though, he’s crowding you up against the counter again seconds later and you try your best to look busy, scrubbing at the bowl in the sink. “You’re playing hard to get.”

“I’m not playing-“ You’re quickly silenced by him flipping you around and planting his lips on yours. He licks into your mouth immediately and despite the soap and water dripping off your hands, you tangle your wet fingers into his hair.

Yeah you’re done.

You say over and over again that you’re going to stop this, but over and over you put yourself in compromising positions. Like being in St Louis. Staying at his apartment. Any smart person would have ripped up the damn plane ticket.

You would swear to anybody that giving up this boy was harder than kicking a drug habit. He was a drug habit. And right now you were dying for another hit.

Kissing him ignited this insatiable hunger in you. You could never have just the minimum with him and it was extremely dangerous.

Things would be so much easier if you could feel this way with someone else, but when he tightens his grip on your hips you’re reminded that you never will. Colton has ruined other men for you.

You’re in your head, and it’s like he can tell. He lightly tugs your hair, tilting your neck to the side so he can put his lips on the skin there, and suddenly every previous thought has disappeared. You’ve only got one thing on your mind now.

One of his hands sneaks forward, slipping underneath the waist band of your panties and leggings shamelessly fast. He’s not doddling around, his fingers dip straight into your slit and you pant out a breathy moan, trying to egg him on.

But then he sinks his teeth in particularly hard at one point and you shriek, jolting away temporarily. The smirk he steps back with is so smug you feel your cheeks heat up instantly.

“Yup, definitely not just your hands.” He laughs.

And then he just fucking walks away.

You look on stunned as he sucks the fingers into his mouth, rounding the corner into the living room. You shake your head, trying to figure out if all that actually just happened.

You slip off the counter, following his trail to find him sitting on the couch, putting his feet up and flicking through shows on Netflix.

“You can not just do that,” You blurt out. There’s no going back from here, you’re not thinking with your brain anymore.

“Do what?” He asks, innocently, eyes glued to the screen. He’s holding back a triumphant smile and you really just wanna suck him off until that smirk disappears.

“You know what!” You cry back, folding your arms across your chest. You should go back into the kitchen, finish the dishes and pretend nothing happened, cause that’s what you’ve been doing for the past four days, but the dull ache coming from your core can’t be ignored after what just happened. She’s had a taste and now she needs a lot more.

“What you’ve been doing to me since you got here?”

For the first time you’re thinking about how he must be feeling, being practically shut out for the last few days. So this was payback then. You ignore his comment, striding over to the couch to stand in front of the TV, “Colton I swear,” You try to sound bold but judging from the growing grin on his face, you sound anything but.

“I thought you weren’t turned on,” He chirps, and you clench your fists, trying to refrain from punching him.

“If you don’t do something about this, I will.”

“Mm,” He hums, finally making eye contact. “Can I watch?”

Your mouth drops open in surprise, shocked by this new side to Colton that you didn't know existed. He raises his eyebrows at you, waiting for a response but you’ve come up empty.

“I mean I’m happy to help,” He starts, “If you admit you lied and ask nicely.”

You scoff at his words, seriously considering alternate options that didn’t involve making his ego any bigger. But all you have is your hand, and Colton’s worked much better than yours did. And fuck, why is this turning you on even more? “Really, Colton?”

He holds a hand out for you to step closer, so narrowing your eyes at him, you do. Once you’re close enough, he’s sweeping your legs from underneath you, dropping you onto your back on the couch. Once the shock settles and you feel his fingers dipping beneath your waist band, you breath out a sigh of relief.

But the feeling doesn’t last long cause all he does is peck your hipbone over the clothing, looking up at you through his eyelashes.

“I’ll spend like an hour down here, just say please,” He sings, pecking your stomach.

His words send shock waves straight to your core, and you groan at him.

“I’m not- You-,” You start, but at this point you can’t say anything other than the first words that come to your mind. “Who are you right now?”

Colton chuckles in response, sitting up from his position, you scramble to the other side of the couch, hoping the distance will mute some of the lust, but of course, nothing. “You’re so cute,” Colton smiles.

The words tumble out before you can stop them, completely contrasting his statement. “Oh go fuck yourself!”

“Woah!” Colton laughs, “I think that’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“I’m thinking a lot worse right now,” You fire back, leaning against the armrest. He just raises his eyebrows, silently challenging you.

Staring at him sitting there, you’re thinking of all the different ways you could get off without him, but none of them sound even half as good as his mouth looks. “I really hate you right now.”

You have to decide what’s more important. Keeping the distance and denying the sex for purposes of detachment, or eliminating all the distance and asking him to fuck you senseless.

Your brain is telling you not to give in. Finish the dishes and find another way to spend your time. But your hormones are asking why you haven’t jumped his bones already. And after four days of bottled up horniness, your pussy is talking way louder than your brain is.

So with a loud groan you hit your head against the couch cushions, “Fine. You win. I lied about being horny, can you please get me off?”

And now he just looks amused, and the small chuckle he lets out is enough to tinge your cheeks red with embarrassment. He tosses the remote somewhere, and grips your ankle, yanking you back to his side of the couch. He takes his time, slowly eyeing you up and down as he scales the furniture until you’re eye to eye. “Took you long enough,”

You’re about to make a smart ass comment back, but Colton vetoes that but pressing his lips heatedly to yours. His shirt comes off quickly, and so does yours, neither of you wanting to waste any time now.

Eagerly you push the waist band of your leggings down, waiting until Colton pulls them all the way off. His lips break from yours, falling all the way down to your thighs. He sucks a hickey onto skin there, before running his thumb down your covered slit. You see his eyes widen, and if you weren’t embarrassed before, you sure are now.

“You’re soaked,” He observes, “I can feel you through your panties.”

“I’ve been like this for days,” You admit, jerking under his touch.

“Fuck, why didn’t you- I could have like,” His words fall off as he pulls your underwear down your legs. “You’re stubborn as hell,” He mutters, and then finally his mouth is on you. His tongue ghosts over your clit and you grip onto his hair, arching your back.

One of his hands slides down, lifting your leg over his shoulder. He sucks hard on your clit and you involuntarily jerk, your heel pushing uncomfortably into his back. He flinches but doesn’t stop, pushing your hips down, until your muscles relax. “Colt,” You mumble, a wandering hand grabbing with no purchase against the couch. 

He draws circles around your clit before pushing his tongue flat to the nub, and you gasp, egging him on. Your eyes are clouding over, shoulders tensing, if he keeps this up, you’ll be done in seconds.

You feel his fingers intertwine with your free hand, and you squeeze hard, enjoying the sensations of his scruff on your thighs. His arm under your leg slides higher, resting under your ass so your back is lifted off the couch, the angle makes it easier for you to effectively grind onto his mouth, and from the squeeze he gives your ass you assume he wants you to, so you roll your hips gently onto his mouth, moaning when he groans into your core. “Oh my god, Colton,” You say breathily, grinding onto his face again. Your grip on his hair is tightening, and your hips are moving faster. At this point you’re pretty sure you’re suffocating him but his tongue is so enthusiastic you can’t be bothered to care.

The roll of your hips combined with him sucking harshly at your clit has your orgasm building quickly. Another flick of his tongue against your clit sends you right over the edge, and you try to stifle your scream as best as you can, jerking around on the couch as Colton’s mouth relaxes. He draws slow circles around your clit, and your muscles slowly start to let go. But then his hand slips from yours, and he’s sinking two fingers easily into your core.

You jolt up on the couch, but Colton’s arm is there to hold you down. “You like that?” He asks, pushing his fingers in again. You feel them moving inside of you, rubbing at your walls and spreading you out. 

“Mm, Colt,” You murmur, jerking and holding his wrist to you when he rubs against your g spot. “Right there,” You tell him, feeling like you’re getting close to your high again so quickly.

“Yeah?” His voice is raspy, and you whine when his fingers slip from you, missing the stretch already. You’re not left wanting for long though, because he slowly pushes three fingers in, grunting when you clench around him. “Fuck,” He mumbles. He’s eyeing you taking his fingers like it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, and all you want to do is kiss the lip that he’s currently holding in between his teeth.

“Colton,” You whine reaching down for his wrist, “Please fuck me,”

“I’m not done yet,” He fires back, your hold on him being easily broken by a particularly hard brush of his fingers against your walls. 

“Holy- unf,” Your body tenses around him, thighs trying to close when he presses his thumb hard onto your clit. You’re already sensitive so one touch has you cumming almost instantly. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He murmurs, fingers slipping from your dripping cunt. It’s almost instinct for you to open your mouth, wrapping your lips around his digits to taste yourself. 

His hand comes in with more pressure than usual this time, his palm holding your jaw shut. You moan around his fingers while he supports himself with a knee so that he can slide out of his shorts, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him, but you want him. 

His cock springs free, and he slides it through your folds, teasing your entrance a little before pushing in slowly. It takes him what feels like forever to bottom out, but the stretch is so good you feel like you could cry.

His other hand comes to pull your leg up, resting right on the back of your thigh above your knee so that your calf hangs over his arm. He’s effectively pinned you down now with the pressure on your leg and on your jaw, but you’re not even sure you’d be able to move if you wanted to. 

“You feel so good,” Colton is rolling his hips against yours hard and fast, your moans coming out as nothing but vibrations against his fingers. Your eyes clamp shut when you feel another orgasm building, because at this point, you have no control over yourself anymore, and you feel like you might actually pass out. Your walls are involuntarily clenching around him, making him let out a throaty groan. 

“Come on hun, cum for me,” He fucks into you harder if that’s even possible, fingers pushing down on your tongue to stifle the scream that bursts out when you cum again. 

You’re honestly about to lose count of the amount of orgasms you’ve had, or are going to have, because Colton hasn’t finished yet, and the rolling of his hips against yours doesn’t seem to be slowing down. 

Your body shudders as he continues to pound into you. One of your hands clasps onto his wrist, the other scrambling to find anything to hold onto as you feel yourself climbing the hill to another orgasm really quickly. 

You’re so sensitive that the twitch of his cock inside you is enough to send you into your fourth orgasm, tears spilling out of your eyes. Your body feels limp, and you’re so blissed out when Colton pulls his fingers from your mouth that you can’t even talk, let alone push him away when he relocates to between your thighs. 

His tongue is gentle, lapping up all the cum that is at this point spilling out of you. When he flicks over your clit, your body is jerking again, and you have enough strength momentarily to try and push him away from your body, but your attempts are weak, and within no time you’re cumming for the fifth time. 

You’re not even sure how long it takes you to stop panting, and you think you might actually have fallen asleep for a hot second, but Colton is shifting in behind you, pushing the sweaty hair away from your face. 

“How- was that,” When you actually find the energy to speak, it’s not even clearly. “Five?” You manage to get out.

“Five for five days.” Colton snickers, pressing his lips to your hot cheeks. “Sex is part of my pregame routine, just so you know. As of now.” 

You’re so tired you really can’t find it in you to dwell on the fact that he’s putting you into his future plans, so you shut your eyes. “One or two will do next time,” 

And then you’re asleep. 

.....

Tugging at the blues ball cap on your head you look around to take in your sourroundings again. You’re trying not to look too uncomfortable but you can’t imagine you’re doing too good at it. Being in the friends and family box for your first ever NHL game wasn’t something you’d expected, and you definitely weren’t prepared for the questions you were about to get.

When you see a brunette doing a double take you know they’re about to start. “This is a new face,” She chirps, coming to sit beside you. You put on a smile, one that says I’m totally not about to pee myself from nerves. “Y/N?” She asks, before you can say anything.

“Uh- yeah.” You nod, holding out a hand. “Hi,”

She takes it with a smile, making you feel a little less nerdy for starting with a handshake. “I’m Francesca. Patrick’s fiancé. Colton told him you’d be here, you’re from Edmonton?”

You nod again, feeling like an idiot for not knowing who she’s talking about.

“That’s where Patrick used to play. We loved it there,”

That’s when it hits you, Patrick Maroon. Oilers winger during their playoff run. “I had a Maroon t-shirt,” You blurt, chuckling after you realize what you’ve said to make it seem like you’re not just nervous mumbling. “We loved him too.”

She smiles at this, placing a gentle hand on your own for a second as a thank you. “You’re wearing a different color tonight then, a little strange?”

“Definitely,” You answer, starting to feel a little bit more comfortable. “I told him there was no way he was getting me into a jersey. A hat is as far as it’s going.”

You fall into easy conversation with Francesca throughout the game, walking around the concourse during intermissions, talking about home and other things. When the game is over and she’s showing you over to the waiting area, you’re really hoping that she’s one of the couples coming out later with you. Even though she’s not actually from there, she still reminds you a little bit of home, which is really nice when everything is so unfamiliar.

“There’s a group going for dinner, are you coming?” You ask hopefully.

She furrows her eyebrows, “Um, I don’t think so. But I’ll be here next game, so I’ll see you then right?”

You’re not actually sure if she will, cause you have no idea if you’ll still be here, but you nod anyway, feeling a little disappointed. She hugs you goodbye when she sees Patrick and you’re left alone, all the nerves coming back just as easily as they went away.

Waiting here is literally going to give you a nervous twitch because you feel so extremely out of place. Then there’s shock and confusion because all of the sudden there’s some rando kissing your cheek.

Only when you turn around, it’s not a stranger, it’s a very familiar six foot six blonde guy.

“Security!” You call with a grin, making him snort.

“Very funny,” He mumbles, wrapping his arms around you. “I could take them anyway,”

You glance up at his confident smirk with a raised brow. “Hm, pretty cocky there for someone who’s only had two fights. Pretty sure you lost both also,”

“Wow she’s whitty today!” Colton laughs, “You know if you’re just gonna chirp me now I might just leave you here.”

“I only know two people in St Louis, I can’t be on my own.” You sarcastically reply.

“Who’s the other?” Colton asks curiously and you grin.

“Other? The two I was talking about were Francesca and her dog, Bernie. But now I guess there’s three if you’re counting the weirdo that just came up beh-“

“Okay okay,” He interrupts with a contagious smile. You break into a fit of giggles and wrap your arms around him.

“My best insults are wasted on you, it’s a tragedy.” You sigh, resting your chin on his chest while you look up at him. “I should be out there on the ice, throwing shade.”

“Christ,” He rubs a hand over his face to try and hide the smile. “Something tells me you wouldn’t last long out there.” You try to look hurt but he just shakes his head. “What are you, like five two?”

“No!” You burst, giving him a gentle shove, then opting for a firmer one when it does literally nothing. “I’m five four.”

“Oh sorry,” He replies sarcastically, “That’s so tall, you’ll do great against Chara.”

“Look who’s chirping now,” You grumble, trying to resist his affections as he effectively pulls you back into him.

“Lets go,” He chuckles, tugging you towards the door. You follow in tow as he leads you through hallways to the garage. The whole ride to the restaurant Colton is rubbing his massive hand up and down on your leg, and you wish it was doing something to calm your nerves, but it really wasn’t.

“No singing for me today?” He asks, squeezing your leg lightly while you shake your head. “Don’t be nervous,” He whispers, pulling into a spot in front of the fancy place.

“Shit,” You mumble, swiping the ball cap off your head. Colton looks on, amused while you frantically run your hands through your hair, trying to mute the undeniable hat line.

Your heart is beating fast and all you’re thinking about is how much you really don’t want to do this, but you follow him into the restaurant anyway, trying your best to not look so frigid.

There’s a series of barks and nicknames hollered at Colton when you make it to the table, your eyes scanning the expensive looking alcohol that you wouldn’t be able to have. Here anyway.

“Hey boys,” He starts, “This is Y/N.” You give a small wave while all the eyes scan over you.

“Oh, we’ve met!” One announces, and you furrow your brows.

Some of the others stare blatantly for longer than needed and you shift onto your other leg uncomfortably. They look confused, and you feel even worse than you did at the arena.

“I don’t think so, Fabbs.” Colton chuckles awkwardly.

“Yeah totally,” He insists. “You’re the kindergarten teacher, me and Eddy came out with you and Colt for your twenty fifth, yeah?” He tries to explain himself and you start to feel a little sick to your stomach, but you shake your head.

“No- uh,” Colton stutters and everything feels extremely tense for a second. “That- She wasn’t, that was someone else.” He finally gets out.

“Oh, sorry. You guys just looked really similar.” The guy apologizes while the guy beside him hits him on the shoulder, as if to say ‘dude, shut up.’

Well this was a great start. Turns out his friends have met you, or at least the twenty five year old version of you. Colton slides into the booth and you sit beside him, a good foot away.

“Y/N, that’s Robby,” Colton starts, and he waves sheepishly, obviously feeling guilty for his earlier comments. “That’s Joel, and Vince, and the other Robbie.”

“We actually have met.” The other Robbie starts, and you tense up, waiting for the next story about another one of your look alike’s. How old would this one be?

“The hotel in Edmonton, right? I saw you when you came to visit.”

It takes you a minute to realize that you actually have met him, very briefly. He was the one who knocked on Colton’s door for you. “Oh yeah!” You chirp, feeling a little relieved.

“Do you want a drink?” He asks, motioning to one of the many bottles and pre pored shots on the table.

Perfect. Just what you need to make the situation better. Calling attention to the fact that you’re a minor and can’t have alcohol. Even though you’re really feeling like you need it. “No thanks,”

You’re really hoping they’ll just drop it, but of course they don’t. “Aw, why not? Not even just a little one?”

“No that’s okay, I’m really good.”

“What are you, a minor or something?” Robby laughs, and the rest of the boys join in, until they see no amusement whatsoever on your face.

“Not in Canada I’m not!” You offer with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. They chuckle awkwardly and you cringe, this literally could not be going worse. You swear you can hear crickets for a minute and you’re seriously considering trying to drown yourself in the sink in the bathroom when Joel pipes up.

“So are you guys...?” He starts, but waits for one of you to finish the sentence.

“Yeah...” Colton is about to answer, but you can tell he’s not totally sure what to say, so you decide to help out.

“Just friends.” The table goes silent and once again the tenseness has returned. At this rate it’s going to be literally impossible to get through the night sober, so you reach for one of the pre pored shots murmuring a “Fuck it,” Before downing it quickly.

The boys cheer and you smile elegantly, doing a sitting bow. It takes a little while for normal conversation to start, but with another shot and sips (or gulps) of Colton’s drink you’re starting to feel a little looser.

When you have your third, you’re not even thinking about your older look alike anymore.

“Maybe you should slow down,” Colton suggests, and you glare at him. He laughs a little, trying to seem like it was an innocent suggestion when you both know it wasn’t. “You’re little, the alcohol hits you hard.”

“Little?” You take note of the word right away, and you know that’s not how he meant it but there’s been so many cracks about your age tonight that you’re taking everything the wrong way.

“Y/N,” He starts, quietly. But you don’t really wanna hear it, you’re not ready to play nice after learning about the teacher, so you stand quickly.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” You tell him as you turn. You’re a little drunk and all you wanna do is go home. At this point you’re really just feeling like you need some time to process everything you’ve learned.

He tried to date someone who looked like you. Someone who looked like you, but was older. His age. He tried to replace you.

And it hurt. Walking away from him hurt, seeing him with Rachel hurt, but this was probably the worst of them. This actually made you mad.

While you’re dwelling on your anger you’re reminded of what Colton said when he asked you to come here, about why it was so hard to leave, because neither of you did anything to hurt the other.

But now he had. Even if it wasn’t intentionally.

You really should go home. Sober up so you can think about this rationally, but that option isn’t really available, and all you can feel right now is anger.

When you leave the bathroom, you’re greeted with a wave from Vince as he stands at the bar. “Hey, do you want anything?”

Standing here with Vince for a while sounds much better than going back to the table so you nod and stand beside him. “Maybe a rum and coke?”

He flags down the bartender to ask, and you thank him with a smile. “So you’re from Edmonton?” He asks and you nod.

“Ah, another Canadian. I’m from Ontario.”

“Oh awesome!” You start, and you’re really only intending to make casual conversation at first, it’s innocent, but when he glances behind you, you know he’s looking at the table, and you know Colton is watching. Now you’re not feeling so innocent. Might as well trying on make him mad too.“Where in Ontario?” You ask, intentionally quieter so that he has to lean in to hear you. When he moves closer you put a hand on his arm and repeat your question.

“I’m from Peterborough but I live in Toronto in the off season.” He answers. Stepping closer you really hope Colton is still watching.

“Oh, I’m visiting Toronto in the summer with a friend. We’ve never been,”

“Well it’s nice there, I think you’ll like it,” His body language is the complete opposite of yours, and you know that he’s very aware of Colton’s eyes on the two of you.

“Well if you’re there maybe you could show us around?” You take it up a notch, pulling out your phone to give it to him.

Vince furrows his eyebrows at you, but starts typing anyway. “Colton is pissed,” He pauses, eyes wandering behind you while he gives you your phone back. “But you know that already right?”

You felt powerful before, but after Vince’s call out you just feel desperate. Taking your drink from the bartender you nod carefully.

“He’s coming over here,” Vince gulps, “I’m gonna get throttled at practice tomorrow.”

“Sorry,” You murmur, tipping your glass back to get as much courage as you can before Colton drags your ass out of here.

A hand wraps around your waist and you tense, taking a deep breath in. “Ready to go?”

“No-“ You start, but Colton interrupts.

“I am.”

Sighing you put on a fake smile. “Bye Vince!”

Colton gives him a pat on the shoulder before steering you back to the table. You give a wave, saying bye to the rest of the guys on your way out. As soon as you’re out the door you swipe Colton’s hand off of you, picking up your pace so that you’re in front of him.

At this point you’re so overwhelmed with emotions that you feel like you can burst into tears. You’re embarrassed, and upset and you just want to scream.

You slam the car door behind you and Colton starts the engine. He seems much more calm then you are at this point. You bite your tongue the entire drive back to his apartment, thinking over things to say but deciding that none of them are good enough. You’re just so mad at him.

When his door shuts behind you both, you turn on him, watching while he goes into the kitchen. He pours a glass of water, placing it onto the island, pushing it towards you.

You ignore his gesture, hating the way he can’t even look at you. “Tonight went well, yeah?” You say sarcastically.

“Could’ve been better, if you didn’t decide to flirt with one of my teammates.” He says, level headed. Why is he still so calm?

“Oh right, cause that’s what did it in right?” You scoff. “Who were they talking about, Colton? Who was the teacher?” You pause, waiting for him to talk again but he doesn’t.

“A replacement? I’m too young so you find someone who looks just like me but older?” He turns away from you at this point, so you keep going, adding more fuel to the fire. “That’s pretty fucked up. But I should have expected this. Nothing has changed since last time, you still don’t think of me any differently, I’m just some little girl naive enough to hop into bed with you, right?” Your own words have brought you to tears, and you swipe under your eyes before he notices.

But still, nothing.

“I’m sorry that I did that with Vince, but hey, this will make it easier right? At least now you’re mad at me.”

He grips the counter, back muscles tense as you wait for a response. When it becomes obvious he’s not gonna say anything your anger boils over.

“So I think I’m gonna go.” Shaking your head you fiddle with your fingers, “Home,” You add quietly, clarifying your intentions to hop on the next flight to Edmonton. “You obviously don’t want me here anymore.”

This time your words receive a way different reaction. One you’ve never seen from Colton before.

It all happens so fast that you’re not sure it actually does happen until the yelling begins. He grabs a fork that’s sitting on the counter, and then he throws it hard towards the sink. It makes a loud clang against the backsplash before rattling into the sink. “I’m fucking trying! Don’t you get that?”

Now it’s you who isn’t responding, you’re shocked into silence at his sudden outburst.  

“This entire week I’ve been trying, I brought you here, I’ve took you to my game, you met my friends! I don’t understand what more you want! We’ve been acting like a couple, but we’re not one, you made that clear. You are the one that’s throwing up roadblocks. I was the one who had an issue with your age at the beginning, and I’m sorry for that, but I got over it. You’re the one who hasn’t.” He pauses, out of breath shaking his head. “I have been trying so hard  to keep you in my life, but you keep walking out and blaming it on me. So stop acting like I’m the one pushing you out the door, because we both know I have never done that.” He looks at you, face flushed with anger, and his eyes soften slightly when he sees the tears fall. You always hated yelling. He knew that.

When he speaks again his voice softens, but it still holds just as much hostility. “The hotel in Edmonton? You walked out. The party? You walked out. And you’re trying to again. But I’m done feeling responsible for every break up. I just- I can’t-” His voice cracks at the end and he holds up a hand, before letting it drop to his side, defeated.

“Colton,” You stutter out, tears flowing freely down your face, but you’ve come up blank the rest of the way.

“I’m just done.”

The words come out, and the glass of water beside him is thrown carelessly across the room. It hits the wall beside you, shattering everywhere, the pieces littering the floor around you. When it breaks its like something inside you does too. Your eyes meet and it’s like every single time you’ve said goodbye to him hits you at once. You thought things felt over all those other times, but now you’re realizing the finality of his words. He’s done.

The emotion in his eyes is too much to handle, so you break the gaze, biting your lip to hold in the sobs that are constricting your breathing.

There are so many things you want to say to him. You want to change his mind, you want to apologize, but you can’t even form a coherent thought at the moment.

Colton moves in your peripheral vision. You think he’s about to leave, and you literally feel a sharp pain in your chest at the thought. Until you hear his shoes crunching in the shards of glass. He doesn’t say anything, he just gently lifts you into his arms, carrying you away from the glass surrounding you. It hurts your heart to know that even though he’s so mad he’s still trying to protect you.

You can’t even bring yourself to tell him that you just want to stay like this, you don’t want him to let you go but you don’t even feel like you deserve to. You’ve never felt more like a child with him until now, when he sets you down on the counter and peels your limbs off of him like a father leaving an upset toddler.