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summary: between occasional bumps and long conversations, you and Garrett grow closer but there's a catch: he doesn't know you're a Di Laurentis and you don't know he's a Graham.
pairing: garett graham x di laurentis!fem!reader
w.c: 2.4K
warnings/content: friends to lovers; siblings dynamic; making out (almost); party/drinking.
A/N: I didn't read the books, I only watched the show and I have no idea how Summer's personality is. I'm building her on what the request detailed for me, hopefully it's not too far off? this will be a three-part series. enjoy it and thank you for the request, anon!
Dean wasn't the overprotective type of brother. He was okay. You made his job pretty easy given you weren't at all like him or Summer who spent nights partying and woke up with the worst hangover ever that'd last for days.
Parties weren't your thing, less alone big crowds filled with sweaty people. Clearly, your siblings didn't understand that you'd rather bury your head in physics books than go to a party at the off campus house where Dean lived.
โSummer is gonna be there.โ Dean spoke through the phone, he was basically whining. He turned into a puppy whenever he didn't get what he wanted. โI brought your grape juice.โ
This got you laughing, you quickly covered your mouth as some people looked over curiously. โI'm not five years old anymore, do you understand that?โ
โGuess I do. I'm literally inviting you to a party with alcohol.โ
โAnd screaming people.โ
โIt's not a rock show, it's a regular party.โ
With a roll of your eyes, you let out a sigh, tired of saying you wouldn't go. You could go and spend half an hour there and get the hell out. It's not like Summer and Dean would notice, being the social butterflies they were.
โIโll drop by after classes.โ
โOh my god, she'll get out of her cage?โ
That had not been Dean's voice. It was a little too girly to be his. You concluded the phone was on speaker.
โFuck off, Summer.โ You said, placing your mouth really close to the speaker because you were about to enter your classroom. Dean's laughter was muffled by something hard yet soft you've bumped into on your way in. โShit, sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going-โ
The person let out a soft chuckle, crouching down to grab two of your books that had fallen. You studied the chocolate curls and broad shoulders before he stood up fully, offering you your books back, a trace of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth โIt's alright. You good?โ
And there it was. Garrett.
You had met him a week ago and you talked for hours after class. One of the few people you had quickly warmed up to since you started at Briar. โYeah, thanks.โ
You took the books and held them over your chest. โ.... she's talking to someone else.โ And then you remember two idiots your share blood with are on the line.
โI'm good.โ You smiled up at him. โโkay, talk later.โ You said to them and ditched your phone in your bag, following Garrett inside the room.
Once you were settled, he leaned slightly in your direction. โDid you manage to finish that assignment for the intro course? I know you were stressing about the bibliography earlier this week.โ He gave you a look. โEven though it was one of the first classes.โ
โI like to be ahead of things.โ You replied, taking your notebook out of your backpack. โHave you finished?โ
When he didn't answer but pretended to be looking for something in his bag, you scoffed, amusedly. โDo you do any of the assignments ever?โ
Garrett hummed, placing his hands forward, sighing as if he was already tired of this class โ that hadn't even started.
โI do them. I've got a good record. Except for this week, I'm focusing on an upcoming game.โ
โRight, Hockey.โ You mumbled, writing some stuff you forgot last night before the professor started the lecture. โYou play Hockey, right? I guess you mentioned it once.โ
Garrett had a lot of attention on campus. Especially because he's a Graham and it comes with the weight of having a father for a Hockey legend so everyone knew of Phil Graham's son. You had not once brought up the topic.
He went quiet for a second, his posture stiffening almost imperceptibly as he watched you scribble notes. He was so used to people mentioning the inevitable comparisons to his father within the first five minutes of meeting him and the fact that you treated his sport like a casual, forgettable detail was refreshing, not to mention that it clearly threw him off his game.
โYeah, hockey,โ he said, his voice a little lower than usual. He leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the cap of his pen. โYou don't sound like a fan.โ
You glanced up at him, shrugging effortlessly. โI don't mind it. Itโs just not really my scene, I guess. Iโm more interested in the stuff happening in the actual world than people chasing a puck around, no offense.โ
Garrett let out a short, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. He looked genuinely charmed.
โNone taken.โ Should be criminal for someone to have that smile. You thought, staring longer than you are deemed necessary and then turning back to the lecture at hand. Don't be so fucking obvious.
โSo, there's a party.โ You navigated around a group of sophomores lingering in the middle of the hall, feeling the cool draft from an open window hitting your face.
โA party?โ
โYes,โ he carried on, his hand moving toward your waist to push you away from the flow of people walking fast in the hallway. As soon as it was there, it was gone. You missed the warmth immediately. โLater tonight.โ
โThat doesn't sound like a good idea.โ
Garrett let out a low laugh as you reached the exit. You looked at him, the sunlight reaching his curls and painting it a lighter brown than they were. โ...there?โ
You blinked awake from your daydreaming and realized you had been staring...Again.
With your cheeks heating in embarrassment, you brushed your hair behind your ear as an excuse to move your nervous hands. โSorry. What?โ
โIs there any chance I might see you there?โ He repeated patiently, Garrettโs eyes were locked onto yours, that faint, lopsided smile of his making it impossible to look away. He didn't seem bothered by your momentary lapse in focus; if anything, he looked amused.
You were pretty sure this was a great excuse to ditch Dean's party. Seeing them sounded exhausting, but seeing Garrett? That felt like a completely different kind of evening. One you were looking forward to.
โText me the address. I'll be there.โ You said, clutching the strap of your bag at the image of drunk people and loud music. He didn't turn around immediately, though.
He kept his focus on you for one heartbeat longer even though you heard some of his friends calling out for him. โGood. Thatโs really good.โ He shifted his weight, hand brushing the strap of your bag as if by accident, a lingering touch that sent a subtle jolt through you.
โI'll text you the address. Don't leave me hanging, okay?โ
โI won't,โ you promised, your pulse ticking a little faster. โBye, Garrett.โ
โBye.โ He smiled, walking backwards until he saw you turn around first and then he did the same.
โฆ . ใโบ ใ . โฆ . ใโบ ใ . โฆ
You chose dark jeans, a black fitted shirt, an off-white cardigan and your favorite leather boots as your outfit. Summer would have a fit if she saw you, complaining about your lack of creativity in your clothes. Your sister loved everything colorful and especially pink.
The classmate youโd tagged along with to avoid arriving solo had vanished the moment they spotted a group of friends near the kitchen, leaving you standing in the entryway of a house contemplating leaving all-together. Before you could even think of finding Garrett, your eyes caught a flash of bright color near the sofa.
There was no mistaking the way Summer was leaning back, throwing her head in a laugh that cut through the music. Dean was a little further away but you were still able to see him talking to two friends that were probably his hockey buddies. You didn't remember their names, just their slight familiar faces you saw once through pictures.
Are you kidding me?
You had spent all day crafting a plan to avoid this specific social circle, and you had somehow ended up right in their orbit. Of course this is the same fucking party, because I am that lucky.
Dean's eyes began to scan the room and that was your cue to duck your head, ready to turn on your heel and bolt for the front door before they caught sight of you.
Summer and Dean had been insisting on introducing you to college life. You knew their hovering came from a genuine place of love, but your siblings could be a little extra when they wanted to.
Turning the corner into the kitchen, you slammed right into a solid, unmoving wall of muscle.
โWhoaโhey!โ
โSorryโโ
The impact knocked the breath out of you for a second. You stumbled back, catching your balance just as a pair of firm, steady hands landed on your shoulders to keep you upright. You looked up, ready to snap at whoever was standing in your way, only to find yourself staring into the familiar, warm brown eyes of Garrett.
โSeems like you enjoy bumping into me.โ A small, genuine smile tugged at your mouth, and you couldn't help but laugh at the irony.
โI swear it's not a hobby.โ
He let out a breathy laugh, pulling his hands away once you were steady. His eyes scanned the room curiously. โWho were you running from?โ
โNo one. Just aโฆ a very annoying colleague.โ
Reaching back to the granite counter behind him, he picked up a fresh red plastic cup and asked what you wanted.
โBeer is fine.โ
He poured it out and offered it to you. You took it with a murmur of thanks, the cool plastic a relief against your warm palm. He gestured toward the open door, and you followed him outside.
โI mean, it's Hockey, there's not much to learn. If you watch it, you'll get it just fine.โ
You gave him a look and shook your head. โI don't think I'll get the technicalities in just one game.โ
Garrett tilted his head, he was closer than before, leaning on the railing with you. โYou don't have to get the technicalities. Have you ever tried watching it? Can be a little fun.โ He then smirked, lifting his cup to his lips. โIf you let it, that isโ
Have I ever watched a Hockey game? Noโฆ it's not like I lived with my brother who's a hockey player and has been obsessed with it since he was six years old.
โMaybe two or three games.โ You said, a smug grin hidden by the red cup as you sipped your drink.
โThatโs not bad. You're not a lost cause.โ
You straightened up, crossing one arm over your chest and tilting your head, your eyes narrowing into a playful, challenging stare. โOh?โ You echoed, arching a brow as you leaned into his space. โYou thought I was a lost cause?โ
You didn't know where that courage came from, it definitely couldn't be the beer because you'd taken about four sips of it so far, not enough to get you inebriated. Maybe you'd gone insane. That was more reasonable.
Garrett stepped into your space, closing the gap until the cool night air was replaced by the warmth radiating off him. He leaned against the railing, muscular arm resting just inches from yours, his posture entirely relaxed, yet his focus was locked intently on your face.
Well, shit. So much for courage.
Is he gonna kiss me, is he gonnaโ oh my god, is my breath okay?
โI was prepared to spend the rest of the semester trying to convert you. Itโs a relief to know I might not have as much work to do as I thought.โ
โOh, no. You got work to do,โ you whispered, eyes dropping to his lips because you just couldn't help it.
Garrettโs expression smoothed out, his jaw tightening just enough to betray the effort he was making to stay still. He braced one hand on the railing behind your shoulder, his fingers curling slightly against the wood. โDo I?โ
With a hard swallow and a very very suddenly dry throat, you nodded. This was when he tilted his head, eyes flickering down to your mouth, then back up to your eyes on a silent question. His breath fanned across your cheek before he leaned forward, warm lips barely brushing yours and you let out a shaky breath in expectation.
โHey, G!โ
You jolted back, your heart jumping into your throat as the proximity evaporated.
Garrett stiffened, arm retracting back and his warmth disappearing around you for a moment as he rolled his eyes in annoyance. This was the moment he wished he was invisible, unknown, an outcast maybe.
There wasn't much time left for you to feel annoyed as well because standing at the threshold of the off campus house, with a grin that was slowly being replaced by confusion and then suspicion, was your brother.
โHey,โ Dean's voice dropped into that protective, questioning tone that sounded too much like your mother when she was out to reprimand you, signalling heโd seen something he didn't want to have seen.
He stepped out onto the porch, the door creaking shut behind him against two other familiar guys that were trying to snoop before he closed the door in their faces.
He stopped a few feet away, his gaze shifting back and forth between the two of you, the tension in the air seemingly thick enough for him to cut with a knife.
โI didn't know you were coming,โ Dean spoke with you but his attention was fully set on Garrett. He looked between the two of you and you could see the muscle jumping in his jaw. โAm I... am I interrupting something?โ
After yet another horrible date leaves you stranded, you call your best friend, Garrett Graham, for help. Now, if only Garrett can convince you that heโs the right guy for you, after allโฆ
Feeling flows both ways | @mutantvampireearthquake
You surprise your boyfriend after a big win
Jeep | @bitchinbarzal
garrett loves his car, garrett also loves you. you wrecked his car.
Awaited Moments | @g0ldendesiree
garrett finally decided heโs done with your game of cat and mouse, the only thing standing in front of him? a football player whoโs name you canโt even remember.
Problem | @/g0ldendesiree
when garrett finds out about a problem youโve been having,what kind of friend would he be to not help you?
Play Pretend | @/g0ldendesiree
the boundaries blur between fake dating and whatโs real when garrett gets jealous.
Hideaways in Hallways | @/g0ldendesiree
when garrett gets clingy itโs clear he isn't up for hiding you anymore.
BREAKFAST SOUP | @edawgz
Garrett Graham loves that youโre an academic weapon. Wellโฆ he loves it until finals week rolls around and suddenly your textbooks are your first love.
mr. perfect | @aliahsarchives
when youโre partnered up with a football player for a class project, garrett canโt help but want you in his sights 24/7.
girls in matching yoga sets don't play | @grahamsangel44
Between Sets | @theunwrittenmoments
You agreed to start going with Garrett to the gym because between hockey practice, games and your work schedule, you have limited time together. Garrett spends the entire time watching you instead of his own training plan before his jealousy gets the best of him.
Off The Market (Current Boyfriend Trend) | @/theunwrittenmoments
When you stumble across the current boyfriend trend on TikTok, you and Allie decide itโs the perfect opportunity to prank your boyfriends. They didnโt find it nearly as funny as you did. Garrettโs response though? That was unexpected.
Fall into you | @girlontheruin
after a nasty fall on the ice, you return many months later to find out a certain hockey playerโs stolen your usual slot. Where in Garrett Graham collides with you and your whole world falls down.ย
Garrett Graham x Figure Skater!Reader
Heating Pad & Hockey Boyfriend | @andy-15-07
Caught Looking | @/andy-15-07
Study Date Disaster | @/andy-15-07
PROFESSORโS DAUGHTER | @darkkdamsel00
Garrett Graham, Briarโs star hockey player, breaks every rule heโs ever had when he falls hard for his strict literature professorโs daughter.
edge of the earth | @finelinevogue
the off campus house is having a party but you're not feeling it. luckily your boyfriend lives there and so you retreat to his bedroom (your safe space)
spin me in circles | @/finelinevogue
it's your birthday and your boyfriend won't stop kissing you for more than a minute. safe to say, he's obsessed with you.
Trouble | @/finelinevogue
youโre going to send garrett to an early grave with some of these tiktok pranks
youโll be okay | @/finelinevogue
youโre the most hated girl on campus because you broke garrett grahamโs heart, but no one actually knows the truth.
social battery is at zero | @/finelinevogue
you are absolutely shattered, but itโs the first off campus bonfire of the summer and you donโt want to let your boyfriend down
one drink limit | @kooksandpearls
study buddy | @/kooksandpearls
secret mission | @/kooksandpearls
a secret hookup with garrett graham turns into four close calls, one locker room scandal, and feelings neither of them are hiding very well.
full immersion. | @/kooksandpearls
a random class assignment sends garrett to celibacy club, where a stupid bet, four weeks of tension, and one almost-kiss turn into a much bigger problem.
Line?!, part 02 ย | @/kooksandpearls
one drunk shakespeare performance turns into old feelings, bad decisions, and garrett graham onstage where he absolutely does not belong.
Laundry Dayโฆ | @grahamsangel44
Power Playโฆ tying him up | @/grahamsangel44
Perfect For Me | @jaylalolz
you lose your virginity to the Garrett Graham.ย
breaking point, part two | @pucksandpower
Garrett is supposed to hate you by association. Youโre dating his rival. Youโre wearing the wrong colors. But he doesnโt look at you like youโre the enemy, he looks at you like heโs seeing something everyone else has learned to ignore. And when you run out of places to hide, his number is the only one you can think to call
Hypothetically Speakingโฆ, part 2 | @briarafterdark
Fake-dating your best friend was supposed to make your crush jealous. It wasn't supposed to blur every line you'd carefully drawn between you. But when Justin finally texts, you realize there's only one person you trust enough to help you get ready, and Garrett's offer changes everything.
keeping it casual | @severedlamb
you talk with the guys while waiting around at the house and dean accidentally let's it slip that garrett is in love with you.
rekindled love | @sunnydilaurentis
in which y/n finds herself in a slightly compromising situation with a classmate at one of the highly anticipated briar u parties, hosted by none other than her ex-boyfriend, garrett graham and his friends. what happens when garrett is the only one to notice y/n be whisked away by a classmate?
Garret getting the munchies after sex | @burgundysnow
RUIN THE FRIENDSHIP | @fleurcient
You are in love with your best friend and you really think you can have a chance until he gradually starts to slip away thanks to a fake relationship.
Bad idea | @garrettgrahamswhore
after overhearing garrett bet that he can get you to wear his jersey, you decide to play along.
lazy kisses with garrett graham | @underoospeterparker
Blindside | @newobsessionweekly
Youโre tired of hiding your feelings, but when a guy mocks your insecurities, Garrettโs brutal defense proves youโre more than just friends.
Second Chance | @saturx5
garrett breaks up with you when he becomes captain of his hockey team only to realise he canโt do it without you
Father-to-be Garrett | @garrettgr4h4m
I Want My Rival Back | @escapismatbest
After a scandal leaves Y/N isolated and broken, she discovers that it was her rival who has been quietly fighting for her all along.
High Maintenance, Part 2 | @broodingboysimp
You've been falling apart quietly for three weeks and you're very good at making sure nobody notices, especially your boyfriend Garrett. You're less good at it after four drinks and one overheard conversation you were never supposed to hear.
Date rescue. | @toonice113
you're on a date with a total douche who keeps bragging about playing on the AHL and (unknowingly) fanboying over your best friend who thankfully makes an apperance just in time to rescue you from a nightmare date.
Do You Like Dean? | @adrienneleclerc
Garrett hears you talking about how you would climb Dean like a tree with your best friend.
pairing โ garrett graham x best friend!reader
summary โ best friends with no boundaries should probably think harder about thin white tank tops and unrestricted dorm access.
warnings โ sexual tension, nipple piercing mention, strong language, suggestive references
notes from me โ two glasses of wine in and finished this ๐ฅด๐ฅด based on this ask!! this was so fun to write lmao. nothing i love more than garrett being whipped!
word count โ 1.7k
navigation โ masterlist |
Itโs an objectively terrible idea to be braless in a white tank top when Garrett Graham has unrestricted access to your dorm room.
This isnโt information sheโs had occasion to seriously consider before, mostly because Garrett having unrestricted access to her dorm room has been a fact of life for so long now that it no longer registers as a boundary issue and more as an annoying environmental condition. Like humidity. Or campus squirrels.
Garrett comes and goes because heโs Garrett. Because theyโve known each other since freshman year orientation, when he spilled iced coffee down the front of his own shirt and still somehow managed to flirt with the girl handing out student ID lanyards.ย
Because heโs carried her laundry basket up three flights of stairs without being asked, eaten half her cereal with his hand in the box, fallen asleep facedown on her rug during finals week, and once let himself in at one in the morning because she texted him that she thought there was a weird sound in the hallway and he arrived in grey sweats and slides with his hockey stick in hand, and the kind of serious expression that made her forget to be embarrassed for a full eleven seconds.
So, no. She doesnโt think about the tank top.
She thinks about philosophy notes and the fact that her carโs being held hostage in the hockey house driveway while Logan fixes it, which so far seems to involve standing over the open hood with Tucker, a YouTube video, and the blind male confidence of men who have never met an engine problem they couldnโt make worse.ย
She thinks about the rink, because Garrettโs supposed to take her there before his late skate and sheโs supposed to sit in the stands with her laptop and pretend she doesnโt secretly like the smell of cold air and rubber mats and hockey boys yelling obscenities at each other.
Sheโs hunched over her desk in jeans and the white tank, hair clipped messily up off her neck, one bare foot tucked under her thigh, when the door opens behind her with exactly zero hesitation.
โOkay, so Logan says your carโs making this noise,โ Garrett says, already halfway inside, โand I told him thatโs not a fucking diagnosis because cars make a lot of noises, and then he got offended like I was disrespecting his craft, which is rich because his craft is apparentlyโโ
He stops. He stops like someoneโs walked into the room and slapped the sentence directly out of his mouth.
She looks over her shoulder, pen still between her fingers. โWhat?โ
Garrettโs standing just inside her doorway in his Briar hoodie and track pants, duffel bag hanging off one shoulder, curls still damp from a shower or the snow outside or whatever irritatingly athletic thing he was doing before this. His mouth is slightly open. His eyes are very much not on her face.ย
They flick down again, fast and guilty and not guilty enough. โDude,โ he says.
Her eyebrows pull together. โWhat?โ
โWhen the fuck did you get your nipples pierced?โ
For a second, the room goes very still around the heater rattling under the window. Then she looks down at herself. And, okay. Fine. The tank top is thinner than she remembers.ย
The little metal bars are pressing faintly against the cotton, visible enough now that heโs said it, and her whole body does this annoying internal jump, not embarrassment, because Garrett has seen her in bikinis and sick and wearing a face mask that made her look like a swamp creature.ย
But itโs something. A hot little awareness under her skin, as if the room has suddenly learned a new angle. She turns back around too quickly and scoffs, because dignity is mostly just committing to a tone before your pulse can betray you. โMonths ago.โ
Garrett nods once. Slowly. Like heโs received devastating news from a doctor with poor bedside manner. โMonths ago.โ
โYes?โ
โSo for months youโve justโฆโ He looks at the ceiling, then the wall, then her face, where he very clearly intends to remain through force of character alone. โRight. Right. Cool.โ
She narrows her eyes. โWhat?โ
โNothing.โ
โThat wasnโt nothing.โ
โWhat?โ he says, and the innocence would be more convincing if his ears werenโt faintly pink. Garrett Graham, Briar hockey captain, man who has smiled his way out of consequences that would have ended lesser men, is standing in her dorm room looking like his entire operating system has crashed over a white tank top.. โIโm just processing information.โ
โYouโre being weird.โ
He presses his lips together and shakes his head. โI am being so normal right now.โ
โYou walked in here, stared at my chest, and short-circuited.โ
His gaze drops for half a second again, involuntary and hopeless, before snapping back up. โBecause you weaponised casual nudity.โ
โIโm wearing a shirt.โ
โThatโs a suggestion of a shirt.โ
She barks a laugh before she can stop herself, sharp and disbelieving.
He points at her like that proves something. โSee? You know.โ
โI know youโre an idiot.โ
โI know a lot of things,โ he says, still looking pained. โUnfortunately, I now know one more.โ
Thereโs no reason for that to make heat crawl up the back of her neck, except that Garrett has shifted against the door without seeming to realise it, shoulders broad enough to make the frame look underprepared, one hand gripping the strap of his duffel.ย
Heโs trying very hard to turn this into a bit. She can see the effort in the slant of his mouth, in the way his eyes keep dragging back to hers like heโs hauling them up with a rope.
She stands from the chair, mostly because sitting there suddenly feels weirdly vulnerable and also because she genuinely does need to change before they leave. โIโm not going like this. Relax.โ
He exhales through his mouth, cheeks puffing slightly. โThank God.โ
Her eyes narrow again. โExcuse me?โ
โNothing.โ
She crosses her arms across her chest, which does nothing for his cause. โNo, go on. Thank God why?โ
He lifts both hands, palms out, the duffel sliding down his arm. โBecause I wasnโt in the mood to fight someone tonight.โ
She stares at him. He stares back, dead serious for about two seconds before his grin starts sneaking in around the edges, all stupid golden-boy charm and teeth and the unbearable confidence of a man who knows exactly how often he gets away with saying things like that.
โOh my God,โ she says flatly. โYou are so annoying.โ
โIโm protective.โ
โYouโre annoying.โ
โThose overlap.โ
โThey donโt.โ
โWith me they do.โ
She rolls her eyes so hard it almost hurts and walks past him toward her bedroom, close enough that her shoulder brushes his arm. Itโs nothing. Itโs normal. Theyโre always touching in ways that donโt count, or didnโt count, maybe, before Garrett noticed her piercings and temporarily lost access to the English language.ย
But now the brush of him feels too present, the warmth of his hoodie against her bare upper arm registering with an irritating amount of detail. She pulls a jersey over the tank first because itโs closest, the fabric falling big over her hips and smelling faintly like laundry detergent and that cold rink smell Garrett always carries around like a second cologne. Then she grabs a jacket from the chair, shoves her arms through it, and gives herself exactly half a second in the mirror to look normal.
She looks normal. Mostly. Her face is a little too warm, but Garrett doesnโt get to know that.
When she comes back out, heโs leaning against the wall near her door, scrolling on his phone with an expression of intense concentration thatโs almost definitely fake. He looks up when she enters.
And then just looks. His eyes move over the jersey, the jacket, her face, the way sheโs tucked her hair back from her cheek with the annoyed efficiency of someone pretending sheโs not just changed clothes with a man in the next room thinking about her nipples. His mouth does something small and private before he catches it.
โWhat?โ she says.
He shakes his head once. โNothing.โ
โYou keep saying nothing in a way that feels suspicious.โ
โThatโs because youโre paranoid.โ
โThatโs because youโre being weird.โ
He pushes off the wall and opens the door for her. โIโm never weird.โ
โYouโre being weird right now.โ
โIโm being gentlemanly.โ
โYou let yourself into my dorm.โ
โGentlemanly after the felony.โ
She snorts and walks past him into the hall. His hand lands at the small of her back as she goes. Warm through the jacket. Familiar enough that she shouldnโt notice it. She does anyway.
Garrett closes the door behind them and, as they head down the hall, slings his arm around her shoulders like heโs done a thousand times before. Heavy and easy and a little too smug.ย
She groans immediately, mostly for self-preservation. โYouโre very touchy tonight.โ
He hums, pleased with himself in a way she can feel through his ribs against her side. โMhm.โ
โThat wasnโt an answer.โ
โWasnโt trying to be.โ
She tips her head back enough to glare at him. Heโs already looking down at her, grin lazy now, but his eyes are still doing that thing. Brighter, sharper, like something ordinary has been tilted a few degrees and heโs pretending he hasnโt noticed the whole room slide.
โYouโre unbearable,โ she says.
โIโm driving you to the rink out of the goodness of my heart.โ
โBecause Logan broke my car worse.โ
โAllegedly.โ
She shoots him a look. โGarrett.โ
โFine. Probably.โ
She huffs, but she lets herself lean into him by half an inch because the hallway is cold and because his arm is warm and because, irritatingly, he smells good. He squeezes her shoulder once, casual enough to be deniable, except his thumb brushes the side of her neck afterward, small and absent and not absent at all.
They make it to the stairwell before he says, โSo. Months, huh?โ
She stops on the top step and slowly turns her head. Heโs staring straight ahead now, mouth twitching.
She points at him. โDo not.โ
โIโm not doing anything!โ
โYouโre thinking loudly.โ
โIโve suffered a shock.โ
โYou saw the outline of jewellery through a shirt.โ
โExactly. Iโm suffering here.โ
โYouโre such a loser.โ
โMaybe,โ he says, then glances down at her, all grin and trouble and something warmer under it that makes her stomach dip in a way she fully intends to ignore until death. โBut Iโm your ride, so be nice to me.โ
She starts down the stairs before he can see her smile. โI liked you better when you couldnโt speak.โ
synopsis: You're way too trusting for your own good. Garrett realizes quickly that he has to step in to make sure you're not taken advantage of. And if he ends up getting you in the process, well, that's just a bonus.
It kind of just happened, given how impossible it was for him to take his eyes off you.
He didn't recognize you as one of Briar U's infamous puck bunnies, mainly because there wasn't a group of sophomore hockey players surrounding you. You stood near the fridge in the hockey house kitchen, nursing a red Solo cup, a cute pink purse tucked under your arm and held close to your side. The way your wide eyes wandered around the room gave him the impression that you were a little out of your depth.
If he were anything like Dean, he would've approached you already and figured out your deal.
Why did you smile politely when partygoers pushed past you?
He watched as a dude fully grabbed your hip. Your body jolted at his touch, and he could read your lips as the word sorry left them.
Sorry.
To the guy who'd touched you.
Your eyes lit up when a tall redheaded girl in an impossibly short black dress approached you. She stood in stark contrast to your mom jeans and light pink tube top.
Your friend, Garrett assumed.
She leaned down to whisper something into your ear. Your face fell for only a moment before you nodded.
He was almost sure your response was:
"Okay, that's fine."
He understood your disappointment moments later when Dean made his appearance, shirtless and drunk off his ass. He swept up your redheaded friend and started carrying her toward the back hallway.
Garrett had no excuse for not approaching you now.
If you were waiting for your friend to finish hooking up with Dean, you'd be waiting a long while.
Garrett took a swig from the one beer he was allowing himself on a night before a game.
Unfortunately, someone else had the same idea.
He recognized the guy immediately. Tall. Lanky. One of Beau's fraternity brothers. A senior on the swim team.
Mark.
Or Mateo.
Probably not Michael.
Whatever his name was, he wanted to fuck you.
Curious, Garrett decided to keep his distance. He watched from across the room as he approached the speaker blasting '80s rock music. He grabbed Logan's phone from the table and changed the song, all while keeping one eye on you.
It was almost offensive how forward the guy was being.
He had a hand on your shoulder, and he was standing so close that you were forced to tilt your head back to look at him.
"Yeah... we talked upstairs. Remember?"
You politely shook your head.
"I don't think it was me."
Your voice was sweet.
Garrett could tell that much.
Wanting to hear more of the conversation, he lowered the volume of the music.
"I know I'm so fucking drunk right now, but we ran into each other outside the bathroom. I remember. You're so hot I know I'd remember you. You don't want to kiss me again?"
He grabbed your hand.
"Uhm, no, thank you. B-but... I really don't... uhmโ"
The guy started pulling.
And your feet followed.
Your eyes were panicked, but your body moved anyway.
Jesus Christ.
He wasn't getting the hint.
It didn't help that you still had that polite smile on your face.
Fuck.
Were you seriously so polite that you were going to let this idiot drag you away even though you'd clearly never met him before?
Absolutely fucking not.
Garrett's feet moved before his brain really registered what he was doing.
He shoved himself between you and Swim Team Whatever-His-Name-Was and forced your hands apart.
He wasn't trying to embarrass the guy.
He shoved his shoulder just hard enough to make him stumble.
"She said no."
"What the fuck?"
Bold and clearly running on liquid courage, the guy took a step toward Garrett.
The standoff lasted all of three seconds.
Then recognition dawned.
Because Garrett Graham was standing in front of him.
"Are you dumb?" Garrett asked. "Can't you tell she doesn't want to talk to you?"
The guy gritted his teeth.
"I was just..." He looked at you. Then back at Garrett. "She's all yours, man."
And just like that, he stumbled away in search of another vulnerable girl.
Your eyes looked just as panicked when Garrett turned back toward you.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to cause a scene."
Garrett savored the chance to finally look at you up close.
Your makeup was soft. A light dusting of blush colored your cheeks. Your lips were glossy and glittered faintly under the kitchen lights.
Your hair was pulled back with a floral headband.
Worst of all, you smelled like lavender and vanilla.
Garrett stepped closer.
Shielding you from the crowd.
Blocking you in until your back met the kitchen counter.
He wasn't sure how subtle it was when he leaned closer just to breathe you in.
"I know it's your party..." you whispered.
Your voice trailed off.
You stared up at him as if he were a wolf and you were prey.
Honestly?
The comparison wasn't far off.
If Garrett had to compare you to an animal, it would be a baby deer.
Wide-eyed, nervous and completely unaware of how vulnerable you were.
"You're..."
"Garrett," he finished for you. "What's your name?"
"Y/N."
The answer came out almost too quickly.
Too trusting.
Y/N.
It bounced around inside his head while his imagination immediately started building a picture of who you were.
A picture he already suspected he'd be thinking about later tonight.
"You're not really sorry, right?" he asked. "Because that asshole was the one trying to trick you into hooking up with him."
"I don't think he was..."
Garrett stared.
You genuinely seemed to be considering it.
As if you'd only just realized the guy had been hitting on you.
"I think he was just confused."
All Garrett really knew about you was your name.
But he'd already decided you were perfect.
Seriously lacking in street smarts.
But perfect nonetheless.
His jaw ticked.
He regretted not putting the guy through the floor.
"I think he's lucky I'm a nice guy."
You completely missed the meaning behind that statement.
He could tell because you immediately replied:
"Your house is really nice too. Thank you for having me. I mean, you didn't really invite me. Dean invited my roommate, butโ"
You stopped yourself.
Realizing you were rambling.
"I mean, it's a good party."
Garrett grinned.
"Thank you. Your roommate is the redhead?"
You nodded.
"She just disappeared with Dean."
"Is she your ride?"
Garrett planted a hand on either side of you.
Close enough to feel your breathing change.
Close enough to know he was overwhelming your senses.
"Yeah. I was just gonna wait for her to... you know. Get done."
"You might be waiting a while."
Your mouth parted.
Then closed.
Had that possibility genuinely not occurred to you?
"Well, that's okay." Your smile was small. "If it gets too late, I can call someone. There's this guy in my Instructional Tech class who said he'd give me a ride if I ever needed one."
Garrett's brows immediately knitted together.
"A random guy in your class?"
"He's not random. We have class together."
"Have you ever hung out with him outside of class?"
"Well, no. But he's nice. And I can't really afford an Uber all the way back to my apartment."
Another guy who wanted to fuck you.
And you had absolutely no idea.
Garrett was beginning to notice a pattern.
He was already starting to hate the idea of letting you leave this house and return to your own devices.
"Your friend kinda sucks for bringing you here and then abandoning you."
The words came out before he could stop them.
Instantly, he regretted it.
Your face fell.
"I-I wanted to come."
"You like parties?"
"I like parties."
You practically struggled to force the words out.
A terrible lie.
Your discomfort was written all over your face.
"And she's a good friend."
"Hmm."
Garrett pushed away from the counter, finally giving you room to breathe.
"There's a good chance they're going to fuck all night, Y/N. If you want to crash here, there's a spare bedroom. If not, I can drive you home. I've only had one beer."
"You don't have to do that, Garrett. It's so out of the way. I'll find a ride."
Say my name again.
Please.
"You're adorable, you know that?"
You smiled immediately.
Embarrassed.
"Are you making fun of me?"
"Never," Garrett replied sincerely. "Let me drive you home."
Because an adorable little bunny like you wasn't getting into a car with some random loser from class.
"I..."
You pressed your lips together under the weight of his stare.
Had you ever told anyone no before?
"I should check in with my friend firstโ"
Garrett's hand found the small of your back.
"Sure."
He guided you toward the hallway.
"If my predictions are correct, they're probably in the laundry room."
Not a single word of protest left your mouth.
The irony of the situation dawned on him. He didnโt want someone else to take advantage of you, and yet he was practically doing the same, but Garrett was nothing like the guys who only wanted to fuck you. He actually had substance that backed up his bravado. Everyone at Briar knew that, and Garrett was watching as you came to the same revelation. Hockey captain. Six-foot-whatever. He was someone not to be fucked with. Maybe thatโs why your body relaxed under his touch, and you let him lead you to the end of the downstairs hallway.ย
Garrett would bet a million dollars that his best friend Dean was fucking your red-headed friend with the door wide open. He pushed you ahead of him, his other hand finding the other side of your hip, holding you as you peeked into the doorway. As if youโd seen a ghost, Garrett watches as your hands slap against your own eyes.ย
Garrett couldnโt hold back the deep rumbling in his throat as he laughed. He took his own peek and found your red-headed friend bent over the running dryer as Dean pounded into her from behind. You turned around quickly, practically pressing your face into his chest, โOh my goodness. Why did they leave the door open?โ
โAs you can see, your friend is occupied. Are you ready to go now, princess?โ Garrett grabbed you by your chin, forcing your frightened eyes to look up at his.ย
You nodded, long eyelashes batting up at him. He takes another mental picture for later. He imagined his cock down your throat, that same look of fear and wonder in your eyes. He clears his throat, pushing the lewd thought out of his mind, โThen letโs get you home.โย
Your apartment building might as well have been condemned.
It was a rude thought born from privilege, but Garrett couldn't suppress the uneasy feeling creeping up the back of his neck.
Of course you lived on the worst side of town.
During the twenty-minute drive, he'd learned how you'd ended up at Briar and, subsequently, at the hockey house.
You'd transferred in January and had been forced to find housing at the last minute.
That's how you'd met Paige, the redheaded puck bunny.
Apparently, she was renting out her couch and charging you half the rent.
โIt pulls out.โ
โWhat?โ
โThe couch.โ You glanced over at him. โI'm not just sleeping on her couch. It pulls out and turns into a bed.โ
Garrett shot you an incredulous look, taking his eyes off the road for a second.
โWhere do you keep all your shit?โ
โWe turned the coat closet into my personal closet.โ You smiled proudly. โIt's actually more convenient than you'd think. And I don't have that much stuff anyway.โ
You paused before adding softly,
โThe important thing is that I'm here. You have no idea how long I've wanted to go to school here.โ
Your eyes were bright and hopeful, standing in sharp contrast to the darkness outside the Jeep.
โAnd you're an education major?โ
โYeah.โ You answered quickly, pleased that he'd remembered. โElementary education.โ
โThat's cool.โ
Garrett pulled into a parking space in front of your building and shifted the Jeep into park. The engine died and silence crept inside the vehicle.ย
He tucked his keys into the pocket of his sweatpants before leaning across the center console and unclipping your seatbelt.
His face ended up a little closer to yours than necessary.
โI'll walk you up.โ
โYou don't have to, really.โ You offered him a small smile. โThis is already too much.โ
Too much.
The phrase irritated him more than it should have.
Was basic kindness really that foreign to you?
โI'm a gentleman, princess. Of course I have to.โ
You laughed softly.
โPaige talks all the time about how hockey players are the exact opposite of gentlemen.โ
Your roommate is an idiot, princess.
โThen let me prove her wrong.โ
The words came out low and certain.
Garrett realized, as he climbed out of the Jeep and rounded the front of the vehicle to open your door, that he'd never meant anything more.
โOh, I get it now. This is the same girl from the party.โ
Garrett watched as Dean dug into the huge pile of food on his plate. The dining hall was bustling at lunchtime, and the conversation his friends were having was almost loud enough to cloud his thoughts of you.
Almost.
Until Dean brought up Garrett's new favorite subject.
You.
โMaybe you can invite her friend over again tomorrow since Tuck has people coming over?โ
โWhoโs her friend?โ Dean asked, and Garrett stared back at him, forcing his gaze to remain steady to prevent his eyes from rolling.
โThe redhead? Kinda moans like a goat?โ
Deanโs lips pulled into a mischievous smile.
โAh, I see. Freaky Paige. She said her roommate was, like, a super religious virgin and then something else about her growing up in a cult. Which kinda tracks. She just stood there alone smiling at everyone the whole night.โ
โWhat the fuck? Y/N did not. And Paige is full of shit.โ
Dean chuckled.
โIt doesnโt matter. Paige said that was the last time we were hooking up because sheโs getting back with her boyfriend.โ
Your roommate really sucks, Bunny.
โHereโs your opportunity, G,โ Logan spoke up, abandoning whatever conversation he'd been having with Tucker. He jerked his head toward one of the double doors.
You walked through alone, your hair thrown up in a high ponytail and a pink backpack slung over your shoulder. Although you werenโt smiling, you looked happy, and Garrett could only assume youโd just gotten out of class.
You headed toward the salad bar.
Garrett stood immediately.
He patted Logan on the back in gratitude before making his way over to you.
Your eyes widened in surprise before quickly brightening with unmistakable joy.
You were happy to see him.
โHey,โ he said, even though there was so much more on his mind.
You almost forgot you were filling your tray.
โHi. How are you?โ
โGood.โ
Amazing, actually. More like it, now that youโre here.
โWhat about you?โ
โIโm really good. I love Mondays. No afternoon classes.โ
โSo youโre free the rest of the day?โ
Your lips parted in surprise.
You glanced down nervously as you added more toppings to your salad. Garrett followed alongside you.
โWell, yeah. I was gonna do some homework and then... start a new book.โ
Jesus.
He even found the idea of you reading alone in your apartment adorable.
โI, uh, wanted to get your number. Totally forgot to ask when I dropped you off the other night.โ
โMy number?โ
โFor chauffeuring reasons, of course. Donโt want you getting stranded and having to call Instructional Tech Guy.โ
That made you giggle.
โReally?โ
โReally.โ
You reached the end of the salad bar and started toward the register.
Garrett grabbed the tray from your hands.
โLet me get this.โ
โI-I have dining dollars, Garrett. You donโt have toโโ
โSave โem.โ
Heโd do any small thing he could to take care of you.
At least until he figured out how to have all of you.
Garrett could practically feel his friendsโ stares as he carried your tray away and abandoned them completely.
They knew this was more than him trying to score.
Girls threw themselves at Garrett.
In all his years at Briar, heโd never had to chase one.
โLet me see your phone.โ
Garrett was already reaching for it before it was halfway out of your pocket.
Your lock screen was a collage of pink aesthetic photos and an orange cat.
โYou have a cat?โ
โOh, yeah. Thatโs Mouse. Iโve had him since middle school, but it didnโt feel right bringing him here. Taking him away from his home.โ
โHeโs cute,โ Garrett commented as he held the phone in front of your face and unlocked it. โHey, are you religious?โ
You blinked up at him.
Up.
Because Garrett was sitting beside you and was still massive even while seated.
โNo. Uhm, not really. Wh-why do you ask?โ
Stupid, freaky Paige.
โI was, uh, just wondering where youโre from.โ
Garrett quickly learned you were from a small town in upstate New York.
From what he gathered, your home life was far from cultish. Nothing toxic.
You just seemed sheltered.
An only child.
He took the opportunity to enter his number into your phone and send himself a text.
โIโm serious about calling me if you need a ride somewhere.โ
โYou make it seem like Briar is a scary place. Everyone Iโve met is very nice. Including you.โ
โIโm flattered, princess. And I agree that most people are nice. But this place has freaks and weirdos, and Iโd prefer it if you werenโt anywhere near them.โ
He was entitled.
What did it matter what he wanted for you?
He didnโt own you.
Heโd met you two nights ago.
And yet you didnโt argue.
Almost as if you already trusted him.
โIโm working to save up enough money for a car, so hopefully I wonโt have to bother you or Paige.โ
โWhere do you work?โ
The question came out a little too quickly.
Garrett reminded himself he might scare you off if he didnโt pace himself.
And you did look a little nervous.
But you were an open book.
โI always work game days at the campus bookstore, so Iโve never gone to a game. And then I nanny during the week.โ
โWell, if youโre free tonight, let me take you out.โ
โTake me out?โ
โTo dinner.โ
โOh.โ
You stared at him, eyes wide and beautiful.
โWhy?โ
โWhy dinner?โ
โA dinner date?โ
โYeah.โ
โAs friends?โ
โThe opposite, actually.โ
Your lips parted, then closed again.
Garrett watched as you intentionally took a deep breath.
In through your nose.
Out through your mouth.
โIโm really trying to keep up here, Garrett.โ
Too much.
Too fast.
He was pretty sure thatโs what you wanted to say.
You just didnโt want to hurt his feelings.
โHey. Relax, okay?โ
His tone softened immediately.
The deep quality of his voice remained, but there was something undeniably gentle underneath it.
โItโs not a big deal. Just dinner. If you want, you could come over to my place and we could order something. Watch a movie.โ
Another deep breath.
โUhm... and then what?โ
And then heโd probably kiss you. And touch you as much as he could before you became a bundle of nerves. So you werenโt completely innocent. Part of you, deep down, knew what dinner and a movie often lead to.ย
โThereโs nothing to be nervous about. I like you, Y/N.โ
โI like you too. I mean, I think youโre nice and...โ
โAnd...?โ Garrett prompted.
โHandsome.โ
You winced as soon as the word left your mouth.
Not because you didnโt mean it.
Because you were worried it was the wrong thing to say.
โIโm sorry. If Iโm being honest, I havenโt really been on a date since high school. And Iโm a little confused that, out of all the boys at Briar, youโโ
Garrett immediately shook his head.
โAre you questioning my taste?โ
โOf course not!โ you whisper-shouted.
โYouโre pretty. Youโre sweet. And I havenโt met anyone like you.โ
His gaze settled on yours.
โIโd like to keep seeing you. So, Iโm gonna drop you off at your apartment. You can read your book and do your homework. Then Iโll come back tonight and pick you up for our date.โ
โAre you sure?โ
Garrett gave you a look that was just stern enough to make you squirm.
โOkay, okay. That sounds... good.โ
You waited until his expression softened before taking another breath.
โNow finish your lunch, baby.โ
You nodded quickly and picked up your fork, finally beginning to eat.
dividers by @/strangergraphics
pls reblog with your thoughts to be added to my off campus taglist :)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Summary: Y/n transfers to Briar to play on the women's soccer team and reunite with her childhood best friendโ Hannah Wells. Overly protective and convinced that John Logan is in love with Hannah, Y/n is determined to keep him away. Logan is intrigued, and mildly annoyed at the new girl that keeps scaring women away from him.
CW: cursing, sexual themes, minor violence, angst, slowburn, slight enemies to friends to lovers, family drama, talk about SA (Hannah, not Y/n)
a/n: tysm for reading, this is a silly little passion project and i've loved writing it so far! lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist <3 i may have more than 10 parts, but for now that's what i have lol
โ๏ธ Warnings: NSFW, not proofread, foursome, oral (f! and m! receiving), exhibitionism ish, so many penises, pure filth with no plot
โ๏ธ Pairing: F!Reader x John Tucker, F!Reader x Dean Di Laurentis, F!Reader x Garrett Graham, F!Reader x John Logan
โ๏ธ Rating: Mature, 18+
โ๏ธ Words: 2345
โ๏ธ AN: written for this request. it's a good thing i'm not in that universe cause i would genuinely be hopping from room to room๐ง๐ฝโโ๏ธlet me tell ya it is not easy to coordinate something for all five of them to do so a lil suspension of disbelief is needed pls ๐ซช
โ๏ธ Summary: The boys need comfort after they lose a big game
cr: hlfaheart for the header ๐นญ
The tension in the air was almost suffocating when you walked into the hockey house unannounced and uninvited, not that you needed an invitation. You were given keys for a reason.
They were so wrapped up in their own shit, they didnโt even notice when you strutted in.
Dean sat leaning forward with his elbows firmly placed on the table. His palms were pressed against his forehead as his right leg bounced with restless energy.
Behind him, Logan leant against the wall, legs crossed at the ankle. His head was tilted back against the wall, and you could see the muscle tick in his clenched jaw from where you were standing.
In the centre of the room, Garrett was pacing a hole into the rug. You couldnโt hear what he was muttering to himself but you could hear a heavy thwack sound coming from the kitchen. Tucker was angrily stress cutting vegetables, the knife slamming into the chopping board with every chop.
If there was any man you trusted with a knife, it was Tucker. But he had too much pent-up energy, and you worried heโd accidentally nick his hand or something worse. You immediately walked over to him and wrapped your hand around his wrist to stop the blade from descending again.
His eyes widened, not expecting someone to be there. When he noticed it was you, his shoulders dropped immediately. You loved the effect you had on him. Really, itโs the effect youโve had on them all at some point.
The scene you walked into isnโt unexpected; the Briar U Hawks had lost one of the most important games of the season tonight. And it was their fault. Even as a non-hockey fan, you could see how wrong their play was, they were disjointed and the more the scoreline built, the more each player desperately went for their own glory.
You, as their friend with no ulterior motives whatsoever, had come over knowing that the frustrations would be high and theyโd be looking for an outlet.
โItโs fucking embarrassing,โ Garrett suddenly snaps. His voice is husky, you assumed he had been shouting a lot tonight. โWe looked like a bunch of selfish, desperate, rookies out there. Logan, I was wide open but you still tried to solo through their defensemen. Dean, you were completely out of position because you wanted to score. What part of defenseman do you not understand?โ
If this were a cartoon, youโd be seeing steam coming out of Garrettโs ears right about now.
โWe needed a goal,โ Dean muttered in response, not bothering to look up from his hands.
โNo. We needed to play like a fucking team.โ Garrett stops pacing to glare in Logan and Deanโs direction. โIf we canโt work together, then our season is dead. We might as well just give up now and save ourselves the embarrassment.โ
Youโd heard enough. โOk, thatโs a bit dramatic, donโt you think?โ
All four pairs of eyes turn to look at you. Loganโs crossed arms relax a little and he stands up straighter.
Garrett scowled but his voice was softer than before as he addressed you. โDramatic? We threw the game away because we have zero coordination as a team.โ
โI beg to differ,โ you said as you took a step into the living room. Tucker followed you, drying his hands on a dishcloth. โDean and Tucker demonstrated excellent team work last week. Iโm sure we could teach you all a thing or two.โ
Tuckerโs cheeks flushed as he reminisced over what had happened when the three of you went back to his room after a party. You all had a time.
You looked over at Dean. He was leaning back on the chair now, a cocky grin on his face. The look in his eye was a challenge. Were you really thinking about doing this here? In front of them?
It was no secret that you were interested in all four of the men in the room. Youโd been with all of them too with the exception of Garrett. You owned your sexuality and were a proud puck bunny.
You enjoyed pushing the boundaries of what you could take, what you could handle. And the prospect of pleasuring all four of them at the same time had you biting down on your lip.
To prove you were serious, you turned to Tucker and wrapped your arms around his neck. He immediately threw the dishcloth he was holding on the floor and wrapped his arms around you.
Looking back over your shoulder at the others in the room, you noted how they watched you with bated breath. โThink of this like a training drill,โ you purred. โUse me to practice your teamwork.โ
When nobody left the room, you turned back to Tucker. You looked down at his lips then back up to his eyes. As you leant in closer, he surrendered to you easily.
You pressed a few soft kisses to his jaw, then the corner of his mouth, then his mouth. You licked at his lips, a silent invitation that he happily obliged, allowing you to shove your tongue into his mouth. ย
Tucker kissed like a gentleman, following your rhythm and pace. He moaned into your mouth as you sucked on his tongue. He, oddly, tasted like cherries.
Before he could pull you closer, you broke away and headed straight over to Dean, climbing onto his lap. Dean didnโt hesitate; his hands slipped under the hem of your shirt and ran up and down your back. A large calloused hand pulled down the cup to your bra and he rubbed the pad of his thumb over your nipple.
Eye contact was your weapon of choice to keep men hooked, so as you ground down into Dean, you kept your eyes on Logan who was stood frozen behind him. His eyes were dark, unable to look away from the scene in front of him.
Dean bucked his hips up into you as you repeatedly ground down into him, his hands settling on your waist. Behind you, you could hear the sound of Tucker moaning and you knew he was touching himself watching you roll your hips.
โFuckkk, youโre needy, arenโt you?โ Dean cooed, even as his head lolled back.
Tucker strode forward and cleared the clutter off of the table with a sweep of his arm. โPut her here,โ he called to his teammate.
Dean had your shirt pulled over your head and bra off in seconds. In the next few seconds, you were placed on the edge of the table. You whined at the loss of stimulation.
That didnโt last long though as Tucker and Dean descended on you quickly. Dean spread your legs to accommodate his shoulders as he began kissing up your thighs, hiking up your strategically-short skirt. Tucker nipped and licked at your neck.
โNghโ so good,โ you moaned.
Tingles ran through your veins as you looked over at Garrett. He was watching with the same intense focused that Logan had. It was the spotlight on you that you had been craving.
โCaptain?โ you called. โWant to join?โ
ย Garrett moved immediately, as if he was just waiting for your permission. He pulled you into a kiss as Tucker moved to swirl his tongue around your nipple.
You moaned into Garrettโs mouth as you felt Deanโs breath ghost over your clothed pussy. The combination of all the attention, the anticipation, and the feeling of being watched by Logan and Garrett had you soaked already.
โOkay, have her lie back,โ Dean said as he pushed at your stomach gently.
Tucker and Garrett took their mouths off of you and helped you to lay down comfortably on the table. You hissed as Dean pulled off your panties, the cool air hitting your heat.
โTucker, come here.โ Dean called.
Just like last week, they took their positions by your slick pussy. Their ragged breaths over you had your hole clenching. Two hands slipped under your butt, lifting you slightly so Dean could get at your hole. His tongue teased your entrance, lapping up your arousal, before plunging in. Tucker focused on your clit, flicking his tongue side to side in a rapid motion.
Garrett stepped out of his shorts and came to stand at the top of the table, close to your head. He hovered next to you, unsure of of what to do with himself and what he could ask of you.
You refused to break eye contact with him, even when a lewd moan escaped your lips as Tucker sucked on your clit.
โTell me what you want me to do, Garrett.โ
โSuck, please.โ His voice was strained.
You leant over until your tongue reached his tip. You paid special attention to it, licking up the precum that had gathered there.
He hissed and bucked into your mouth as you sucked on the head.
Tucker and Dean were still working in tandem between your legs. Licking, sucking, and curling fingers into you. You mumbled praises to them around Garrettโs dick.
The sensations overwhelmed you just the way you liked, and it wasnโt long before you felt the coil in your stomach tighten. Your moans urged the men in between your legs on, and your vision faded to black as the coil snapped and your orgasm waved over you.
Almost immediately, Garrettโs hips stuttered as he came into your mouth, shooting warm cum down your throat. You gently sucked him through it, his dick twitching heavily on your tongue.
When he had fully come down from his high, Garrett slid out of your mouth. โUmmโฆ thanks?โ
You watched him as he ran off upstairs to go and clean himself off.
Tucker returned to the room, you hadnโt even realised he left, carrying a box of condoms.
He looked down at you; you looked a beautiful mess with Garrettโs cum still dripping down your chin. โYou wanna go for a ride, darlinโ?โ
You nodded eagerly.
Switching positions, you stood up so that Tucker could lie flat on the table. Once settled, he slapped his thighs, your invitation to climb onto him. You did so with an embarrassing urgency. In less than a minute, you were straddling his thighs, slowly lowering yourself down onto his condom-clad dick.
You took a minute to really feel him inside of you before you began to bounce. You alternated between fast snaps of your hips and slow grinds.
โYeah, thatโs it, darlinโ,โ Tucker praised from beneath you. โYou take me in so well.โ ย
You leant forward, palms resting on his chest as you bounced on him.
A hand snaked between your legs, rubbing circles around your clit. You turned to see Dean, one hand between your legs and the other jerking himself off. His tip was so pretty and pink, you wanted that inside you.
โDonโt cum yet, Dean,โ you said in between breaths. โWant you inside me next.โ
โI know you do, gorgeous. Donโt worry, Iโll take real good care of you after my teammate has had his way with you.โ He had a stupidly cocky grin on his face and you wanted to slap it off of him.
โFuckโ yeah, Iโm gonna-.โ
Tucker began fucking up into you, thrusts erratic until his entire body jerked. His eyes rolled back as he came into the condom. You grind your hips, purposely clenching around him as he came down from his high.
โThanking you, darlinโ.โ Tucker was always so smooth with it, it made you feel giddy inside.
You winced as Dean lifted you off of Tuckerโs softened erection. He carried you over to the sofa, placing you there are he settled in between your legs.
โThis is what youโre begging for, right?โ He asked as he dragged his wrapped-up erection through the slickness at your folds. He let his dick catch on your hole, pushing the tip in then pulling it out.
โYes,โ you mumbled, mind dizzy from how turned on you still were.
โSpeak up,โ he commanded.
โPlease,โ you begged. โIโm begging. Fuck me, please.โ
โHmm.โ Dean ran the tip of his dick over your clit. The sound of your frustrated grunts was intoxicating to him.
Your hand came down, taking hold of his dick and guiding it into you.
โFuck, you really are so desperate for me.โ His laugh died on a moan as he bottomed out in you.
You wrapped your legs around him, trying to pull him down deeper into you.
Every thrust was deep and deliberate. Now that you were wrapped around him, he was done with the teasing. He chased the release that he had been waiting for. He hit that spot within you that had your eyes rolling back and pussy clenching down around him. ย
Dean slipped a hand in between your legs, rubbing against your clit with enough pressure that it brought your body to the edge. You didnโt bother to try to muffle your moans, your voice getting louder as you got closer.
โThatโs it, scream louder for me so they know just how well I fuck you.โ
You came calling Deanโs name.
โIโm almost there baby, just keep squeezing around me,โ Dean grunted.
Despite being still sensitive, you clamped down on this dick. His mouth hung open as he emptied his load into the condom. Just like with Tucker, you continued to grind your hips as Dean came down from his high.
โThank you, gorgeous.โ He said as he pulled out of you.
He kissed your forehead then walked over to where Logan was standing.
โSheโs all yours,โ Dean said, slapping Logan on the back.
Logan walked over to where you were sat waiting for him on the sofa. His voice was deep and throaty as he spoke for the first time since you got here. โI patiently waited for my turn.โ
โYou did,โ you praised.
โSo, how are you going to reward me for it?โ
You slid off of the sofa and fell to your knees in front of him. Looking up through your eyelashes as you took him into your mouth.
Summary: You transferred to Briar U to become a ghost, desperate to outrun your controlling ex. When your past finally catches up to you in the middle of a lecture hall, Dean Di Laurentis makes one thing perfectly clear: you are under his protection now.
Hurt/Comfort
Warnings: not proofread yet, probably shitty because I haven't written anything in months, mentions of toxic/controlling relationships, stalking, anxiety, graphic violence, Protective!Dean in full force
A/N: I don't know how good it is because it's been a while since i've last written something and tbh I didn't finish the first season, only read the books 5 times. But I hope you like it and after my finals I will be back with more fics. You can totally spam my box with requests if you's like. But I won't be writing anything for like 3 whole weeks. I am so stressed I can't even exist. Anyway. Feedback is much appreciated. Take care of yourselves and lots of love! What do we think of a part 2?
Words: 2.6k
Requested here!
The booth at Maloneโs was designed to comfortably fit six people. Currently, it held four massive hockey players, Hannah, and you. Which meant you were practically sitting in Dean Di Laurentisโs lap.
Not that he was complaining.
"Iโm just saying," John Logan argued from across the sticky table, pointing a french fry at Tucker, "if you actually passed the puck instead of trying to be the hero, we wouldโve scored in the second period."
"I was open!" Tucker shot back. "Youโre just blind, Johnny!"
Garrett Graham, wedged next to them, rolled his eyes and stole a sip of Hannahโs beer. "Youโre both idiots. Just drink."
You tuned out the hockey talk, mostly because Deanโs fingers were currently drawing lazy, distracting circles on the denim of your jeans, right at your knee.
When you transferred to Briar to escape the wreckage of your last relationship, your plan was simple: keep your head down, go to class, and stay invisible. You didn't plan on meeting Dean Di Laurentis. You definitely didn't plan on sleeping with him.
Twice.
The problem? The sex was mind-blowing, and Dean was shockingly attentive, which meant you had to pull the emergency brake. Two hookups could be written off as a fluke. Three times was a pattern. Three times meant you were knocking on the door of a relationship, and you didn't do boyfriends anymore. Not after the suffocating mess youโd left behind in your hometown.
Youโd drawn a hard line.
Dean, however, treated that line like a mild suggestion.
"I'm going to grab another round before Logan and Tuck start throwing punches," Hannah announced, sliding out of the booth. "Don't kill each other."
"You're ignoring me," Dean murmured. He dropped his arm over the back of the booth behind your head, leaning in so close you could smell his expensive cologne mixed with draft beer.
"I'm listening to Logan and Tuck," you replied, keeping your eyes on your cup. "Itโs very educational."
"I can think of better things to do than listen to Logan." Dean's voice dropped to that low, raspy pitch he knew exactly how to use. His thumb dragged a fraction higher on your thigh."You're wearing that perfume again," he murmured, a sound that completely bypassed your brain and went straight to your stomach.
"Shut up, Di Laurentis," you shot back, taking a desperate sip of your drink.
"I know you have this ridiculous rule about a third time meaning we're suddenly married, but come on, beautiful," he chuckled, his breath ghosting over your jaw. " You canโt stop thinking about it either. I promise Iโll make you forget why you ever made that rule in the first place."
"Read my lips, Di Laurentis," you said, turning your head just enough to give him a flat look. "We are done."
He just smirked, his thumb pressing a little firmer against your thigh. "Liar."
You opened your mouth to tell him his ego was writing checks his charm couldn't cash, but Hannah suddenly slid back into the booth, thumping a heavy plastic pitcher onto the table.
"Malone's is officially a zoo," she announced, dropping into the space next to Garrett. She wiped condensation off her hands, then paused, her eyes darting over to you. "Hey, did you tell someone we were coming here?"
You frowned. "No. Why?"
"Because some guy just stopped me by the bar," Hannah said, her brow furrowed. "Tall, dark hair, preppy polo shirt. He had this crazy intense look on his face. He asked if I knew a Y/N who just transferred here. I told him no, but... It gave me the creeps, honestly."
The buzz from the vodka evaporated.
Your stomach did a horrific, Olympic-level flip. It was an instant, violent spike of adrenaline. A cold sweat broke out across the back of your neck, and suddenly the loud, chaotic noise of the bar felt like it was pressing against your eardrums.
Heโs here.
You stared at the condensation pooling on the wooden table, your brain short-circuiting.
Beside you, Dean completely misread the situation. He thought you were just giving him the silent treatment. He leaned his weight against you, his chest pressing into your shoulder.
"Come on, beautiful," Dean coaxed, his voice dropping right into your ear. "Stop playing hard to get. Let's get out of here."
The feeling of being boxed into the booth suddenly shifted from annoying to terrifying. You felt trapped.
You snapped your head up to tell Dean to back the hell off, your heart hammering against your ribs. But as you looked past him, your eyes landed on the front entrance.
Standing by the bouncer, looking exactly like the entitled prick he was, was your ex-boyfriend.
Your breath caught in your throat. Fight or flight kicked in, and your body chose flight.
You didn't care about looking cool, and you didn't care about explaining yourself. You just needed to get out of his line of sight before he spotted you.
You shoved Deanโs arm away and scrambled to get your feet under you.
"Move," you choked out.
Dean looked startled. "Whoa, hey, whatโ"
"Dean, let me out!" you snapped, practically climbing over his knees. You abandoned your jacket, hit the sticky floor, and bolted toward the back hallway. You pushed past a group of frat guys and burst through the heavy metal door into the freezing alleyway.
A second later, the heavy door swung open again. You heard Garrett swearing under his breath, followed by Hannahโs worried voice.
The night was officially over.
The heavy front door of the house slammed shut, cutting off the biting wind.
Garrett took one look at youโat the way your arms were wrapped tightly around your ribs, your face completely bloodlessโand didn't ask a single question.
"Upstairs. Now," he muttered, shoving Logan and Tucker down the hall before they could open their mouths.
Hannah hesitated, giving you a tight, worried smile, before following Garrett's lead.
You walked straight into the kitchen on autopilot, grabbing the edge of the marble island to keep your knees from buckling. You were shaking like a leaf, and it definitely wasn't the weather.
Footsteps squeaked against the hardwood floor.
Dean walked into the kitchen and stopped a good five feet away, leaning his hip against the opposite counter.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.
"Iโm an ass," Dean said.
His voice was flat, totally stripped of its usual lazy drawl. You looked up. He was running a hand through his blond hair, his jaw tight, looking genuinely stressed.
"Deanโ"
"No, let me finish," he interrupted, holding up a hand. "I'm an idiot. I completely misread that," Dean dragged a hand down his face, dropping his gaze to the floor. "We had a dealโyou said two times was it, and I kept pushing. I crowded you in that booth, and you looked like you were suffocating. I crossed a line, and Iโm sorry."
You let out an exhausted breath. Dean Di Laurentisโactual playboy extraordinaireโwas standing in his kitchen apologizing because he thought his flirting had sent you into a panic attack.
"Dean," you said softly, your voice shaking. "It wasn't you."
His brow furrowed, his hazel eyes snapping up to meet yours. "What are you talking about? You couldn't get out of that booth fast enough."
"I wasn't running from you," you admitted, hugging yourself tighter. "I panicked because of what Hannah said. And because when I snapped my head up to tell you to back off... I saw someone."
Dean went perfectly still. The confusion on his face lingered for a split second before sharpening into intense focus. "Saw who?"
"My ex-boyfriend." The words tasted like ash. "The guy I transferred here to get away from."
Dean didn't move. "He was at Malone's?"
You nodded, a humiliating tear spilling over your lashes. "I didn't move to Briar for a fresh start. I came here because I was running away from him."
Dean stayed quiet, letting you set the pace. He didn't pace the room, and he didn't raise his voice.
"He didn't hit me," you said, your voice cracking. "I know people always assume that's what it takes to run. But he just... he owned me. If we had an argument, he would literally stand in front of the door so I couldn't leave the room until I gave in and apologized. He alienated my friends. He made me feel like I was crazy for wanting to exist outside of his control. By the time I finally packed my car and left, I felt like a ghost."
You wiped angrily at your cheek, staring at the marble counter. "I moved here to be invisible. I thought I was safe. And he was standing right there by the bouncers."
The air in the kitchen completely changed.
The guilt that had been weighing Dean down evaporated, swallowed up by a profound, heavy stillness. You could see the exact moment the pieces clicked together in his headโthe realization of why you hated feeling cornered, why you were so fiercely independent, why you put up so many walls.
Dean was a hockey player; he had a temper. You could see the anger flare in his eyes, dark and sharp, but he brutally forced it down. He seemed to understand, instinctively, that you didn't need to see another man lose his temper right now.
"Okay," Dean said softly. His voice was incredibly calm, level, and steady. "Did he see you?"
You shook your head, "I... I don't think so."
"Good." He took a slow, deliberate step forward, keeping his hands visible and his body language completely relaxed. "He doesn't know where you live. He doesn't know who you're with."
Dean slowly reached out. He just offered his hand, palm up, resting it on the marble counter between you. An invitation, not a demand.
You stared at his large, calloused hand for a second before slowly sliding yours into it. His fingers immediately wrapped around yours in a warm, solid grip.
"I know we have an arrangement," Dean said, his thumb brushing a slow, rhythmic circle over your knuckles to help ground you. "You call your own shots. I respect that."
He paused, making sure you were looking him in the eye.
"But you are my friend," Dean continued, "And you are standing in my house. Which means you are officially under my protection. I don't care how annoying this guy is. He doesn't get to breathe the same air as you."
The quiet, absolute certainty in his voice did more to calm your racing heart than any loud threat ever could. He wasn't posturing for his own ego; he was just stating a fact.
A small, surprised laugh escaped you. "You're going to act like my bodyguard now, Di Laurentis?"
A faint, familiar smirk finally touched the corner of Dean's mouth, though his eyes remained entirely serious. "Somebody has to keep the country club rejects away from you. Besides, Garrett would kill me if I let a guy in a polo shirt terrorize our house."
It had been four days since Maloneโs, and you were almost convinced you were safe.
You were sitting in your Tuesday morning Psychology lecture, tucked into your usual seats near the back. Dean slouched next to you, his long legs stretched out into the aisle. He tapped his pen rhythmically against his notebook while the professor droned on about cognitive dissonance.
The heavy doors at the front of the lecture hall swung open.
A guy walked in and handed a slip of paper to the professor. A transfer student.
One look at the arrogant set of his shoulders, the dark hair, and the expensive preppy sweater sent all the blood rushing out of your head. The air vanished from your lungs. You shrank back against your plastic chair, your hands immediately curling into tight fists in your lap as a cold sweat broke out across your skin.
He had actually enrolled at Briar.
Beside you, Dean felt the violent shift in your posture. The tapping stopped. "Hey," he whispered. "What is it?"
You gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of your head, keeping your eyes fixed on the front of the room.
Dean followed your line of sight. He studied the new guy finding a seat three rows down. The pieces clicked together instantly in Dean's headโthe preppy clothes, the dark hair, and the sheer terror radiating off you. He recognized the guy from the door at Malone's.
Dean sat up straight, locking his jaw into a hard, rigid line. For the remaining forty minutes of the lecture, he remained terrifyingly still, his eyes burning a hole into the back of your ex's head.
"Class dismissed," the professor finally announced, snapping his laptop shut and briskly walking out the side door.
The hall erupted into the chaotic noise of zippers, scraping chairs, and overlapping conversations. You shoved your notebook into your backpack with shaking hands, desperate to blend into the crowd and escape through the back doors before he spotted you.
But your ex was already turning around. His eyes locked onto yours.
That familiar, entitled smirk crawled onto his face. He grabbed his bag and marched up the stairs, heading straight for your row.
Dean stood up. He slung his backpack over his left shoulder and stepped smoothly out of your row, planting his massive, athlete frame directly in the middle of the aisle to block the stairs.
Your ex stopped a few steps below him, letting out an annoyed sigh. "Excuse me, buddy. You're in the way."
Dean held his ground, staring down at him with a look of cold, absolute apathy.
Your ex scoffed, his ego flaring up. "Hey, deaf guy. Move. I need to talk to my girlfriend."
Dean dropped his backpack, shifted his weight, and threw a brutal, devastating right hook.
The sickening crack of Dean's knuckles connecting with bone echoed sharply in the thinning lecture hall.
The force of the punch lifted your ex entirely off his feet. He flew backward, crashing hard into a wooden desk before crumpling to the linoleum floor in a heap. A few remaining students gasped, freezing in their tracks. Nobody dared to intervene.
Your ex groaned, rolling onto his side. He clutched his face, blood instantly pouring from his shattered nose and dripping onto his pristine sweater. He looked up at Dean, his eyes wide with genuine shock and pain.
"What the hell?!" your ex yelled, his voice thick and nasally. He scrambled backward against the desks, staring at Dean like he was a monster. "What the hell was that for?! I don't even know you!"
Dean stood over him, breathing evenly, casually rolling his shoulders. He flexed his right hand once, his eyes dark and completely devoid of mercy.
"You know why," Dean said. His voice was deathly quiet, carrying a promise of so much worse if the guy ever tried to get up.
Dean held his gaze for three agonizing seconds, making sure the message was received loud and clear. Your ex stayed frozen on the floor, too terrified to reach for his fallen bag.
Satisfied, Dean smoothly bent down and picked up his backpack by the strap. The cold, lethal hockey player vanished in a fraction of a second as he turned back to you.
His hazel eyes softened instantly. He stepped back into your row, gently placing his uninjured hand on the small of your back.
"Come on," Dean murmured, his voice warm and perfectly calm, acting as if he hadn't just committed assault in front of a dozen witnesses. "Let's go get some lunch."
pairing โ garrett graham x kitty!reader
summary โ garrett graham doesnโt do girlfriends. unfortunately for him, the entire hockey house has ears, opinions, and very strong evidence to the contrary.
warnings โ suggestive content, implied smut, post-sex intimacy, arguing, strong language
notes from me โ oh to have make up sex with garrett graham. based on this request! thank u anon xx
word count โ 5.1k
navigation โ masterlist | taglist
The downstairs of the hockey house had entered that specific late-night stage of male occupancy where every surface had acquired either a controller, an open bag of chips, a damp ring from a beer bottle, or a sock that absolutely did not belong in a shared living space and yet had been accepted by the ecosystem.ย
The TV threw blue-white light over the room in sharp, violent flashes while some first-person shooter none of them were pretending to understand strategically anymore barked gunfire through the speakers. Logan was sunk so low into the couch he was practically part of it, one socked foot hooked under the coffee table, thumbs moving on instinct and jaw working around the last of a slice of cold pizza.ย
Tucker had claimed the armchair like a man with enough common sense to keep his spine functional past twenty-five, one ankle crossed over his knee, controller balanced comfortably in his hands, expression calm in the way that made it ten times more annoying when he killed everyone else. Dean was sprawled half sideways on the rug with his back against the couch, beer loose in one hand, controller in the other, looking like someone had designed a rich boy in a lab and then forgotten to install shame.
Garrett was upstairs. Which, in itself, was not strange. Garrett being upstairs with her was also not strange, not anymore, no matter how many times he said, with the full stubborn confidence of a man lying directly to everyoneโs faces, that it wasnโt like that. It was casual. They were hooking up.ย
He was busy. Hockey, classes, captain shit, the usual revolving door of women who used to come and go before sheโd started appearing in the kitchen in his sweatshirts and stealing the last banana off the counter with the lazy comfort of someone who knew exactly which drawer the forks were in.
Garrett denied all of it. Continually. Aggressively, even. Like if he said the words sheโs not my girlfriend often enough, the universe would stop presenting evidence to the contrary.
Unfortunately for him, the universe was a petty bitch, and so were his friends. Dean had been killed by Tucker for the third time in under two minutes and was halfway through an appeal to basic human decency when the first noise came from upstairs.
Not a bed thump. Not laughter. Not the usual muffled, morally concerning sounds that made Tucker reach for the remote and Logan yell, โBro, volume,โ without looking away from the screen.
This was a voice, her voice. And it was furious. โARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, GARRETT?โ
Every thumb in the living room stopped moving at once. Onscreen, Deanโs character was immediately shot in the head.
Nobody cared.
There was a half-second where the whole downstairs seemed to hold its breath around the TV static and the low hum of the fridge from the kitchen. Logan lifted his head first, slow and delighted. Tuckerโs brows went up. Dean turned, beer paused halfway to his mouth, eyes brightening with the reverent attention of a man who had just heard the opening note of live theatre.
Upstairs, something moved hard enough to creak through the ceiling. A footstep. Maybe two. Then Garrettโs voice came down, rough and defensive and very much not using his captain voice. โWhat? Jesus Christ, I looked at my phone.โ
โYou were snapping a puck bunny right before you fucked me!โ
Deanโs mouth fell open. Loganโs eyes went huge. Tucker closed his eyes once, like a man hearing a disaster he could have warned someone about if anyone in this house respected wisdom.
โOh, rookie error,โ Logan said solemnly, pointing one finger toward the ceiling without taking his eyes off the stairs. โThatโs a rookie error.โ
Dean nodded, gravely, as if Garrett had failed a sacred code. โYeah, no. You canโt do that.โ
Tucker set his controller down on his knee. โYou absolutely cannot do that.โ
From upstairs, Garrett snapped, โI wasnโt snapping a puck bunny.โ
โOh, fuck you, Garrett!โ
โOh, fuck me?โ Garrett shot back, voice rising now, indignant in that very particular Garrett Graham way where he sounded personally offended that reality had chosen to disagree with him. โFuck me? Are you shitting me? I go on my phone for, like, two seconds and you freak out?โ
โI was straddling you, you asshole!โ
Dean made a strangled sound and pressed his fist to his mouth, eyes shining. โGod, sheโs good.โ
Logan leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fully abandoning the game now. His abandoned character stood motionless on screen while someone named xXSlayerBoiXx unloaded an entire magazine into his chest. โYeah, no, Iโm with her on that. Thatโs insane. You donโt check messages mid-straddle.โ
โItโs about respect,โ Dean said, sudden and earnest, like the spirit of an Italian grandmother had entered his body. โYou gotta keep that shit separate, man. Girls know when youโre mentally in the room. They can feel it.โ
Tucker looked at him.
Dean looked back. โWhat?โ
โNo, I agree,โ Tucker said after a beat, which somehow made it funnier. โI just didnโt expect you to be the one bringing emotional literacy into this house tonight.โ
Dean lifted his beer in salute.
Upstairs, her voice came again, closer this time like sheโd moved toward the door or maybe toward Garrett, which somehow made the whole thing worse and better. โYou literally smiled at your phone.โ
โI smile at shit!โ
โYou smiled like a slut!โ
Logan lost it. He folded forward, laughter punching out of him so hard he had to slap one hand over his mouth. Tuckerโs mouth twitched. Dean pointed up at the ceiling with the beer bottle, triumphant.
โThat,โ Dean said, โis a woman with language.โ
Garrett barked something they couldnโt quite catch, then louder, โIt was a team thing.โ
โOh my God, donโt lie to me with hockey. Thatโs so insulting.โ
โIโm not lying with hockey!โ
โYouโre always lying with hockey. Itโs your little emotional support sport.โ
Dean wheezed. โOh, sheโs killing him.โ
โSheโs not wrong,โ Tucker said, and picked up his controller again only to realise no one else was playing. He set it down with the soft resignation of a man accepting that the night had changed shape. โHe does use hockey as a legal defence.โ
Logan wiped under one eye with his thumb. โYour Honor, I couldnโt text back because we had a power play.โ
โExactly,โ Dean said. โAnd the juryโs like, damn, compelling.โ
The argument upstairs hit a sharper pitch then, the words overlapping enough that downstairs only fragments came through: Garrett saying her name in that strained, warning way; her cutting over him with something about half the campus knowing exactly what your stupid little smirk means; Garrett snapping back that she didnโt get to act like heโd done something when he hadnโt done anything; her laugh, sharp and humourless enough to slice through the floorboards.
The thing was, from downstairs, it was hilarious. It was the kind of fight you listened to with one hand over your mouth and the other hovering near your beer because you didnโt want to miss a word.
But even through the ceiling, even with Deanโs face lit up like Christmas, there was something hot and real in it. Garrett could say casual until his voice gave out. The guys had seen him check every time the front door opened on a Friday night in case it was her. They had seen him turn down girls without making a production of it and then act like he didnโt know heโd done it. They had seen him stand in the kitchen at nine in the morning holding two mugs of coffee, one black and one with the stupid oat milk she liked, and still somehow insist he was not, under any circumstances, doing relationship shit.
Upstairs, something thudded, like someone had shoved a door or dropped a shoe or Garrett had knocked into his own dresser while gesturing too aggressively for a man who claimed to be calm.
โDonโt walk away from me,โ Garrett said, clearer now.
โOh, now you care where I am?โ
โDonโt do that.โ
โDo what?โ
โThatโ that thing where you make it sound like I donโt give a shit.โ
There was a pause after that. Barely a pause. Downstairs, all three of them went quieter without meaning to.
Then she said, voice still furious but lower now, scraped around the edges, โYou were smiling at another girl with my thighs around your waist, Garrett.โ
Loganโs face changed first. The grin softened out of it by a fraction. Tucker looked down at his beer. Dean, for all his many sins, at least had the sense to stop laughing for a second.
Garrett didnโt answer right away. When he did, his voice had lost some of the heat. โIt wasnโt like that.โ
โThen what was it like?โ
โBabyโโ
โOh, do not baby me right now.โ
Dean inhaled through his teeth. โTough room.โ
โDeserved,โ Tucker murmured.
Garrett said something too low for them to make out, then louder when she clearly answered over him, โIโm not trying to make you look stupid!โ
โYou donโt have to try, youโre doing great.โ
Logan made a tiny, appreciative noise. โGoddamn.โ
Dean leaned back against the couch, eyes narrowed in thought now, as if evaluating odds at a racetrack. โI got ten bucks on Kitty.โ
Tucker turned his head slowly. โKitty?โ
โYeah.โ Dean said it like this was obvious, like the naming of women based on their probable combat style was an established household tradition. โKitty.โ
Logan frowned. โWhy Kitty?โ
Dean looked offended by the lack of memory. โBecause she scratches the shit out of him. You didnโt see his back last week?โ
โOh shit,โ Logan said immediately, pointing at Dean. โThatโs right. In the locker room. I thought he got attacked by a raccoon.โ
โExactly.โ Dean spread one hand, pleased with his own case. โKitty.โ
Tuckerโs brows drew together. โNah. Sheโs hotter than a housecat.โ
Dean tipped his head, considering. โI didnโt say housecat.โ
โYou said kitty. That implies housecat.โ
โSheโs not a housecat,โ Dean said seriously.
Logan leaned back, very invested. โCheetah?โ
โNo,โ Tucker said. โCheetahs are too sleek. Sheโs got moreโฆ attitude.โ
โMountain lion,โ Dean said, snapping his fingers.
The room went quiet in collective consideration.
Logan nodded first. โMountain lion works.โ
Tucker lifted his beer. โYeah. Respectfully.โ
Dean tipped his bottle toward the ceiling. โTen bucks on Mountain Lion.โ
Upstairs, Garrettโs voice rose again, but not in the same way now. โYou think Iโm sitting there trying to get with somebody else while youโre literally in my room?โ
โI donโt know what youโre doing, Garrett, because you keep telling me this is nothing.โ
That hit the downstairs like somebody had turned down the TV and let the actual room in. Loganโs mouth went a little flat. Deanโs eyes flicked toward Tucker, then away. Tucker exhaled through his nose and leaned back in the chair.
Garrett said nothing. She laughed again, quieter this time, and it was worse than the yelling. โRight. Yeah. Exactly.โ
A door creaked upstairs. A floorboard shifted.
Garrettโs voice came out rough. โThatโs not fair.โ
โNo, whatโs not fair is you acting like Iโm insane for being embarrassed when you keep making sure I know Iโm not allowed to be anything else.โ
โJesus. Thatโs notโโ Garrett stopped, frustrated enough that they could almost see him dragging a hand through his hair. โThatโs not what I meant.โ
โWhat did you mean?โ
Another silence. Dean, who had somehow turned from smug spectator into anxious civilian in under thirty seconds, whispered, โSay something good, dumbass.โ
Tucker shot him a look. โYou whispering isnโt helping him.โ
โI know, but, like, he can sense my spirit.โ
Garrett finally spoke, lower. They couldnโt catch the first part. Only the end. โโฆdonโt want you thinking Iโm messing around with other girls.โ
โBut you are.โ
โIโm not.โ
โYou were.โ
โI wasnโt.โ
โYou were smiling at your phone likeโโ
โI was smiling because Logan sent me a video of Dean eating shit in the driveway.โ
Tucker stared at both of Dean and Logan, disgusted. โThis house is an ecosystem of idiots.โ
Upstairs, there was a beat of silence. Then her voice, much flatter now. โWhat?โ
Garrett said, louder, with the rushed relief of a man finally locating evidence in his own defence, โIt was Dean. It was the video of Dean slipping on the ice by the cars. I was laughing at that.โ
Dean pointed to himself, touched. โI saved his situationship.โ
Logan leaned over and slapped his shoulder. โYour pain had purpose.โ
โI told you Iโm important to this team.โ
The floorboards creaked again. Upstairs, she said something too low for them to catch. Garrett answered, also too low, his voice doing that thing it did when he was trying not to sound soft and failing just enough for people who knew him to notice.
Then she snapped, suddenly audible again, โThat still doesnโt fix the fact that youโre weird about me.โ
Garrettโs answer came immediate and defensive. โIโm not weird about you.โ
All three guys downstairs went still. Then, as one, they looked at each other. Deanโs face went blank with disbelief. Loganโs mouth opened. Tuckerโs eyebrows lifted toward his hairline.
โHeโs so weird about her,โ Logan whispered.
โIncredibly,โ Dean agreed.
โHe once made me Venmo her for mozzarella sticks because I ate the ones she left in the fridge,โ Tucker said.
Logan turned to him. โHe made you Venmo her?โ
โShe didnโt even ask. She was asleep.โ
Dean nodded solemnly. โThatโs husband behaviour.โ
Upstairs, she said, โYou got mad at Tucker for eating my leftovers.โ
Tucker lifted both hands as if personally vindicated by God.
Garrett shouted, โBecause he knew they werenโt his!โ
โThey were in a communal fridge!โ
Dean clutched his chest. โOh my God.โ
Logan dropped his head back against the couch. โHeโs cooked.โ
โBurnt,โ Tucker said.
Upstairs, the argument blurred again into movement, voices crossing, Garrettโs frustration and her hurt colliding in the messy, intimate rhythm of two people who knew each other well enough to know exactly where to press and not enough to stop themselves from pressing there anyway.ย
There was another thud, softer this time. Something fabric-heavy hitting the floor. Maybe the edge of a comforter. Maybe one of Garrettโs hoodies being launched with intent.
Then she said, sharp but trembling around it, โIโm not asking you to marry me, Garrett. Iโm asking you not to make me feel stupid for liking you!โ
The living room went dead silent. Even Dean didnโt joke.
For a second, there was only the muted TV, the distant rush of heat through the vents, the soft electrical buzz of the lamp beside the couch. Tucker looked away first, because there were some things a man wasnโt supposed to witness even through drywall. Logan rubbed a hand over his mouth. Deanโs face did something strange, caught between sympathy and the reflexive horror of sincerity arriving without warning.
Garrettโs voice came low enough that they had to strain for it. โI donโt think youโre stupid.โ
She answered, quieter too. โYou act like I am.โ
โI donโt mean to.โ
โYeah, well.โ Her voice wavered, barely. โYouโre really good at it anyway.โ
There was another pause, longer this time. Then Garrett said her name, and it sounded so unlike the way he said it when he was teasing her downstairs, so stripped of performance, that even Logan stopped breathing loudly.
โIโm busy,โ Garrett said, and immediately Dean made a face like he wanted to climb through the ceiling and tackle him. But then Garrett kept going, rougher, faster, like if he didnโt get it out in one rush heโd lose the nerve. โAnd Iโm notโ I donโt do this shit. I donโt know what you want me to say.โ
โI want you to stop hiding behind that.โ
โIโm not hiding.โ
โGarrett.โ
Silence. Then, quieter, from him: โMaybe a little.โ
Deanโs eyes widened.
Logan whispered, โProgress.โ
Tucker nodded once. โHuge.โ
Whatever she said next didnโt reach them. It was softer, swallowed by the ceiling and the old pipes and the house settling around all of them. Garrett answered in the same register. For a minute, the boys could hear only the shape of it: his voice low and trying; hers still hurt but no longer slicing; a murmur, a footstep, another smaller sound that might have been a laugh or might have been her telling him he was an idiot in a tone that had lost most of its blade.
Dean leaned slowly toward the ceiling, listening so hard his beer tilted dangerously in his hand.
โAre they making up?โ Logan whispered.
Tucker held up one finger. โWait.โ
The upstairs went very, very quiet. A bedframe creaked once. All three of them froze.
Then, clear enough to cut through the entire house, came a high, breathless little squeal that immediately dissolved into a muffled laugh and Garrett saying something low that none of them could make out but absolutely did not sound like an apology anymore.
Dean nodded once, satisfied. โYup.โ
Logan picked up his controller. โTheyโre fucking.โ
Tucker reached for the remote and turned the TV volume up three notches with the resigned precision of a man who had lived in this house too long. โGood for them.โ
Dean lifted his beer toward the ceiling. โMountain Lion won.โ
โYou donโt win a fight by sleeping with Garrett after,โ Tucker said.
Dean considered this. โDepends on the fight.โ
Logan unpaused the game and immediately got shot. โI still think Garrett lost.โ
โOh, he definitely lost,โ Tucker said.
Dean grinned, settling back against the couch as the game roared back to life and the upstairs became, blessedly, a problem the TV volume could mostly handle. โYeah, but heโs not gonna know that until morning.โ
From above them came another muffled thump, followed by Garrettโs laugh, low and pleased and stupidly gone.
Logan shook his head, respawning. โHeโs so fucked.โ
Tuckerโs mouth curved faintly as he lifted his controller again. โYeah.โ
Dean, eyes on the screen now, smile still wide, said, โBut in his defence, did you guys see her in that little skirt earlier?โ
Tucker killed him instantly in the game.
Dean stared at the screen. โWow.โ
โRespect women,โ Tucker said pointing at Dean, calm as anything.
Logan laughed so hard he missed his next shot, and upstairs, Garrett Graham continued very loudly pretending he didnโt have a girlfriend.
The room has gone quiet in the aftermath, the sort of quiet that arrives after a small, localised weather event has torn through and left evidence everywhere for later people to pretend not to see.ย
Garrettโs comforter is half on the bed and half dragged toward the floor, one corner caught under her knee. A pillow has somehow ended up near the closet. Her shirt is inside out beside the desk chair. One of Garrettโs socks is on the nightstand, which makes absolutely no sense, but the whole room has taken on that loose, wrecked, airless quality of a place where nothing had been put down so much as flung away in the service of more urgent priorities.ย
The lamp throws soft gold over the wall and across the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed, and under it all the house is still making noise downstairs: gunfire from the TV, somebody laughing too loud, a dull male groan of defeat that is probably Dean dying in the game again.
Sheโs sprawled on her stomach across Garrettโs chest, bare skin warm against bare skin, one leg tangled in the sheet and the other hooked lazily over his thigh like she has no intention of giving his body back to him anytime soon.
Her chin rests over his sternum, and she traces nonsense patterns over his chest with the tip of one finger, slow little loops through the faint sheen still drying there, feeling the hard, steady thud of his heart under her cheek when she tilts down.ย
Itโs stupid, really, how quickly the fight has gone soft at the edges now that theyโve burned through it. Her throat still feels a little raw from yelling. Her body feels heavy and loose and humming in places sheโs absolutely not going to name out loud. Garrettโs hand sits at the base of her spine, thumb moving every now and then like he keeps forgetting heโs doing it.
For a while neither of them says anything. Which is probably for the best, because words have been historically risky in this room tonight. Then the floorboards creak somewhere downstairs and Loganโs voice carries faintly up, followed by Deanโs laugh, bright and stupid and unmistakably delighted by his own existence.
She stills. Garrettโs hand pauses on her back.
Her eyes lift to his face. โDo you think the guys heard us?โ
Garrett looks down at her for half a second, mouth already fighting the kind of grin that means heโs decided honesty will be funniest if delivered without mercy. His hairโs a mess from her hands, curls pushed in every wrong direction, face flushed in that warm, post-sex way that makes him look softer and smugger at once, which should be illegal on a man who already has enough advantages.
โThink the whole campus heard us,โ he says.
She lets out an offended little laugh and drops her forehead against his chest. โShut up.โ
โNo, seriously.โ His voice is lazy now, rough around the edges, pleased with himself in a way that makes her want to bite him. Again. โPretty sure the womenโs soccer team knows youโre mad at me. And now... not so mad at me.โ
โOh my God.โ She presses her face harder into his chest, but sheโs giggling now, because the alternative is imagining Logan, Tucker, and Dean downstairs, all three of them going dead silent and absolutely listening like the worst little creeps in Massachusetts. โI hate you.โ
โNo, you donโt.โ
โI literally do.โ
โYouโre naked on top of me.โ
She grins into his chest. โThatโs unrelated.โ
โFeels related.โ
She lifts her head just enough to glare at him, which doesnโt work at all because heโs grinning at her like sheโs the funniest, most inconvenient thing that has ever happened to him.
That look gets under her skin in a way she hates. The part where his amusement goes warm and stupid around the eyes because heโs not just entertained. Heโs happy sheโs there. Happy sheโs still touching him. Happy in the middle of a room that looks like a crime scene made of laundry and bad decisions.
His hand slides up her back, slow and broad, then comes around the side of her neck with the kind of easy confidence that makes her body go annoyingly still. His fingers resting lightly beneath her jaw, thumb brushing once along the side of her throat while he tips her face up.
โCโmere,โ he murmurs, and kisses her before she can say something defensive.
Itโs quick, technically. Barely more than a press of his mouth to hers, warm and lazy and smug at the corner because he can probably feel the way she melts by half an inch the second his hand settles there.ย
But it does something ridiculous inside her anyway. Something bright and helpless and fluttering low in her stomach. She kisses him back without meaning to make anything of it, but he smiles against her mouth, and thatโs somehow worse.
When he lets her go, she blinks down at him. โYouโre very annoying after sex.โ
โBefore too.โ
โTrue.โ
โDuring, though?โ
She pauses, letting her eyes move over his face with theatrical consideration. โTolerable.โ
Garrettโs eyebrows lift. โTolerable?โ
โMhm.โ
โThatโs crazy, considering the volume you were using ten minutes ago.โ
She gasps and shoves at his chest, but he catches her wrist before she gets far, laughing low in his throat, the sound moving under her palm. โGarrett.โ
โWhat?โ
โYouโre so full of yourself.โ
โEvidence-based confidence, baby.โ
She rolls her eyes, but the baby lands anyway, soft and warm and stupidly effective in the middle of all that cocky shit. Which is exactly the problem. Garrett could say something that made her want to smother him with his own pillow and then two seconds later say baby like it belonged in his mouth, like he hadnโt even had to think about it.
He gives her ass a lazy pat and exhales, long and reluctant, glancing toward the clock on the nightstand. โI gotta get up.โ
Her brows draw together. โWhy?โ
โBecause I told Coach Iโd be at the rink early.โ
โItโs nighttime.โ
โI'm captain.โ He shifts under her, and she makes a small noise of protest before she can stop herself, which makes his mouth twitch again. โDonโt start.โ
She pouts. โI didnโt say anything.โ
โYou made a sound.โ
โIโm allowed to make sounds.โ
โClearly.โ
She narrows her eyes at him, but Garrettโs already moving, careful and slightly awkward with the sheet and her limbs and the fact that she has absolutely no interest in helping.ย
He sits up, easing her off his chest and onto the mattress, and she flops onto her back with the kind of boneless indignation only a girl who has just been thoroughly ruined and then abandoned for hockey can really commit to.
The air cools instantly where his body was, and she hates that too. Hates the little absence of heat along her side. Hates, more than anything, the fact that she notices.
Garrett gets out of bed naked, completely unbothered by the fact that he looks like that in lamplight and has the audacity to walk away from her with broad shoulders and hockey-built thighs and his back scratched to hell.ย
She hadnโt realised sheโd done quite that much damage. There are red marks dragged down over the muscle beside his spine and along one shoulder blade, bright against his skin, some already fading, some very much not. The sight sends a hot little pulse through her, equal parts pride and embarrassment and something so pleased it probably needs to be medically reviewed. She bites her bottom lip to stop the grin. It doesnโt work.
Garrett bends to grab his boxers from the floor and pulls them on, then glances back over his shoulder because he feels her looking. โWhat?โ
She shrugs against the pillow, still grinning. โNothing.โ
His eyes narrow slightly. โThat face is obviously not nothing.โ
โItโs nothing.โ
โYou look way too proud of yourself for nothing.โ
โIโm just lying here.โ
โYeah,โ he says, turning enough that she gets the full benefit of his expression now: amused, suspicious, a little too aware of his own effect on her and absolutely not above using it. โThatโs the problem.โ
She lets her gaze drag over him again on purpose this time, slow enough to be rude, from the messy curls to the bare chest to the low waistband of his boxers, then back to his face. Garrett watches her do it.ย
His mouth parts like heโs about to say something, then closes again. His jaw shifts. He looks briefly toward the ceiling, as if appealing to God, Coach, or whatever patron saint governs self-control in sexually compromised hockey players.
She giggles. โWhat?โ
Garrett exhales through his nose. โNothing.โ
โNo, what?โ She props herself lazily up on one elbow, sheet slipping down just enough that his eyes drop despite his clear attempt to be a disciplined athlete with somewhere to be. โWhat did I do?โ
He gives her a look.
She widens her eyes, all fake innocence and bare shoulders and hair messy around her face in ways she knows are not helping him. โIโm not doing anything!โ
โYou look like that,โ Garrett says, accusingly.
She glances down at herself like this is new information. โLike what?โ
โLike that.โ His hand moves vaguely in her direction because apparently language has left him. โAllโฆโ He stops. Swallows. Drags a hand over his mouth. โFuck.โ
The grin takes over her whole face now, slow and delighted. โGarrett Graham. Are you objectifying me?โ
โIโm trying very hard not to.โ
โHow noble.โ
โIโm a good guy.โ
โYouโre currently staring at my boobs.โ
His eyes snap up. โIโm flawed.โ
She laughs, and the sound loosens something in his face. For one second he just looks at her, standing there beside the bed in his boxers with scratches down his back and his hair wrecked by her fingers, caught between leaving and crawling right back over her.ย
The room feels warmer for it. Smaller. The mess of it suddenly not messy so much as lived-in for one strange little slice of time โ her clothes with his, her phone on his nightstand, his handprint still warm somewhere on her hip, the argument hanging around but no longer sharp enough to cut.
Then he sighs like sheโs personally ruined his life. โIโm gonna be late.โ
She frowns immediately, because the words take a second to land in the right order. โNo, youโre not.โ She rolls onto her side and reaches for her phone on the bedside table, fingers searching blindly until they close around it. The screen lights her face blue for a second. โYou have plenty ofโ oh.โ
The oh comes out because Garrettโs moved while she was checking the time. Fast. Smooth. Infuriatingly athletic, even in boxers, which feels unfair given the circumstances.
One second sheโs looking at the screen. The next his hands are around her thighs, warm and sure, tugging her down the mattress until her hips slide to the edge of the bed and the phone slips from her hand. She drops it with a soft thump into the sheet, breath catching in a little startled laugh as he steps between her knees.
โGarrett.โ
โYeah?โ
โWhat are you doing?โ
He lifts one of her ankles first, then the other, setting them over his shoulders like he has all the time in the world and not a single intention of using it responsibly. His hands settle against her thighs, thumbs pressing in just enough to make her stomach flip.
The lamplight catches on his grin when he looks down at her, all cocky mouth and dark, focused eyes and the kind of heat that makes every smart thing she might have said disappear before it reaches her tongue.
โIโm gonna be late,โ he says.
For a second she just stares at him. Then her smile spreads, helpless and bright and already half-breathless. She lets her head fall back against the mattress, laughter spilling out of her as her fingers curl into the rumpled comforter. โYouโre gonna be late.โ
Garrettโs mouth curves, pleased, and his hands slide a little higher on her thighs.
โYeah,โ he says, like this is simply what the night has decided and who is he to argue with circumstances. โDefinitely.โ
pairing โ garrett graham x reader
summary โ garrett's girlfriend is drunk, freezing, and extremely loyal. so loyal, in fact, that she refuses his water, his jacket, and his flirting because sheโs waiting forโฆ garrett graham.
warnings โ fluff, drunk antics, alcohol, post-game party, protective boyfriend garrett, reader doesn't recognise him for most of the fic
notes from me โ part of my 1k celebrations!! & based on this request!! thank u anon, such a cute idea ๐ฅน
word count โ 4.4k
navigation โ masterlist | taglist
There was two versions of Garrett Graham. The version people got in the rink, all sharp focus and captain voice and that very specific game-day intensity that made even strangers in the stands start sitting a little straighter when he skated past.ย
Then there was the version people got after heโd won, showered, changed, and been handed exactly two beers at a party by Logan, who had called it recovery hydration with the confidence of a man who had never once been trusted by medical professionals.
That Garrett was looser. Warmer. Still tired in the shoulders, still carrying the ache of a hard check somewhere along his ribs, but smiling more easily now, head tipped back while Tucker said something dry beside him and Dean yelled over the music from the kitchen like volume could make a story better.ย
His hair was still damp at the edges from his post-game shower, curling slightly where heโd shoved his hand through it too many times, and the dark blue Briar letterman jacket had stayed on for maybe twelve minutes before the house got too hot and he dumped it over the back of a chair.
He was, by every reasonable standard, doing great. His girlfriend was not. His girlfriend had arrived at the party with Allie and a plan that had included one drink, maybe two, and absolutely no consideration for the fact that girls pouring vodka cranberries in hockey houses tended to treat measurements as a loose concept.ย
Garrett had been across the living room when sheโd taken the first one. Heโd been in the kitchen with Tucker when sheโd finished the second. By the time he saw her again, she was standing near the bottom of the stairs with one hand wrapped around a red cup, smiling at something Allie said with the bright, floaty concentration of a girl whose whole body had started operating on a two-second delay.
He could notice a winger drifting out of formation from half a rink away with two guys trying to take his head off. He could absolutely notice his girlfriend blinking too slowly under the hallway light, her cheeks warm from alcohol and the heat of too many bodies packed into the house, her mouth glossy and parted slightly like she kept forgetting whether she was meant to be talking or laughing.ย
She looked happy, which helped. Loose and giggly and pleased. But she also kept shifting her weight like the floor had become more wobbly than usual, and Garrett had not fought for his life against Harvardโs second line that afternoon just to let his girlfriend get taken out by hardwood.
So he left Logan mid-sentence. Logan didnโt even pretend to be offended. He just followed Garrettโs line of sight, saw her trying to drink from the cup and missing her mouth by half an inch, and winced. โOh, buddy.โ
Garrett pointed at him without looking back. โDonโt.โ
โI didnโt say anything.โ
โYou were about to.โ
โI was gonna say she looks graceful.โ
โDie.โ
Garrett crossed the room with the easy confidence of someone everyone automatically moved for, red cup of water in hand because Tucker, thank God, had seen the situation unfolding and passed it over like a medic on a battlefield.ย
She didnโt see Garrett coming. She was too busy nodding very seriously at Allie, who was holding both her hands and saying something that involved the words no, babe, Iโm so serious and eyebrow blindness.
Garrett stepped into her space, close enough that his knee brushed hers. โHey, baby.โ
She turned toward him. For one beautiful second, her face went blank. Then her entire expression rearranged itself into scandalised horror.
โExcuse you,โ she said, pulling herself up to her full height, which was less effective than usual because she swayed slightly at the top and had to catch Allieโs wrist. โI have a boyfriend.โ
Garrett blinked.
Allie made a noise like sheโd swallowed a firework. Garrett looked at his girlfriend. His girlfriend looked back at him with genuine, drunken offence, like heโd approached her in a bar wearing a leather bracelet and too much confidence.
โUh huh,โ he said slowly, because there were moments in life that required leadership and moments that required not laughing directly in the face of the girl you loved while she was doing her best. โThatโs great.โ
โIt is great,โ she said, lifting her chin. โHeโs very tall.โ
Garrettโs mouth twitched. โGood for him.โ
โAnd he plays hockey.โ
โNo shit?โ
โAnd heโs, like, really good at it.โ
Allie had turned away now, one hand clamped over her mouth, shoulders shaking. Garrett refused to look at her because if he did, he was going to lose it, and that felt like the sort of thing his girlfriend would interpret as disrespect from a strange man at a party, which apparently he was now.
He held out the cup. โCan you drink some water for me?โ
Her eyes narrowed. Suspicious. Wobbly. Deeply loyal to the absent boyfriend currently standing less than a foot in front of her. โWhy?โ
โBecause youโre drunk.โ
โIโm not drunk.โ
โBaby.โ
Her mouth dropped open. โDonโt call me baby.โ
โRight. Sorry.โ He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, nodding with a level of solemnity he absolutely did not feel. โMy bad.โ
โMy boyfriend calls me baby.โ
โDoes he?โ
โYes.โ
โSounds annoying.โ
โHeโs not annoying.โ She frowned at him with such force that it seemed to briefly take all her balance with it. Garrettโs free hand shot out to her waist before she could tip sideways into Allie. She looked down at it, then back up at him, appalled. โDonโt touch my waist.โ
Garrett removed his hand at once, palms lifting. โAlright.โ
Allie, still dying, leaned in and said, โBabe, maybe just drink the water.โ
She looked betrayed. โYouโre taking his side?โ
โIโm taking hydrationโs side.โ
Garrett offered the cup again. โJust a couple sips.โ
She stared at him for another second, clearly weighing the moral implications of accepting water from a man who looked suspiciously like her boyfriend but who she had, for reasons unclear to everyone except the vodka, decided was not.ย
Finally, she took the cup with great caution, like he might use the transfer to propose something criminal, and drank.
Garrett watched her swallow three obedient little sips, then nodded. โGood girl.โ
The look she gave him could have killed a weaker man. โNope.โ
โRight. Yep. Forgot.โ
โMy boyfriend says that.โ
โBet he does,โ Garrett muttered.
โWhat?โ
โNothing.โ
She handed the cup back, pleased with herself and still indignant, and then immediately turned toward Allie like the conversation had been handled.
Garrett stood there for half a second, holding the water, staring at the side of her face.
Dean appeared beside him like he had been summoned by humiliation itself. โHey, man.โ
Garrett didnโt look over. โDo not.โ
Deanโs grin was audible. โShe knows youโre her boyfriend, right?โ
โSheโs drunk.โ
โShe just told you she has a boyfriend.โ
โYeah, Dean, I was here.โ
Dean leaned around him to look at her, delighted. โThis is the best thing thatโs ever happened to me.โ
Garrett finally turned his head and gave him a flat look. โThatโs sad.โ
โNo, whatโs sad is getting rejected by your own girlfriend.โ Dean clapped him once on the shoulder and immediately stepped out of reach. โTough shift, captain.โ
Garrett pointed at him. โI will put you through a wall.โ
โWow.โ Dean called over his shoulder, already retreating. โHer boyfriend would never.โ
Garrett took a slow breath through his nose and looked back at her. She was laughing at something Allie said now, one hand pressed to her own chest, head tipping forward so her hair fell around her face.ย
She looked ridiculous. Beautiful and unsteady and way too warm in the cheeks, standing under the hallway light like the world had gone pleasantly fuzzy and she trusted it not to hurt her because she hadnโt yet noticed Garrett had been replaced by some guy bothering her with cups.
His annoyance softened before it could become anything real. Fine. He could work with this.
For the next twenty minutes, Garrett kept orbiting. That was the only word for it. He didnโt hover, because hovering would get him accused of being controlling by Dean, and probably by her if she remembered how to form an argument.ย
He orbited. Close enough to keep an eye on her, far enough that she didnโt look up and accuse him of trying to steal girlfriend privileges from Garrett Graham, who was both beloved and missing.
She danced with Allie in the living room, mostly from the waist up because her coordination had started giving its two weeksโ notice.ย
She complimented Tuckerโs shirt with extreme sincerity even though Tucker was wearing the same plain black t-shirt he wore to every party.ย
She told Logan he looked so tall tonight, which made Logan look down at himself like height might have happened recently and without his permission.
Garrett found her again near the back door, rubbing both hands over her bare arms.
The house was hot, but the door kept swinging open whenever someone stepped out to smoke or yell into the yard, letting in cold spring air that slipped over her skin and made her shoulders inch up toward her ears.ย
Garrett saw the little shiver move through her before she did. He grabbed his letterman jacket off the chair and came up behind her, careful this time, no hands first. Just the jacket, warm from the room and heavy with him, settled over her shoulders.
โThere,โ he said, low near her ear. โYouโre cold.โ
She froze.
Garrett closed his eyes for one second. โPlease donโt.โ
She shrugged the jacket off so fast it nearly hit the floor. Garrett caught it by the collar.
โNope,โ she said.
โBaby.โ
Her head snapped around. โI said no.โ
Garrett looked at the ceiling. The ceiling offered no help. โYouโre shivering.โ
โI only wear my boyfriendโs jacket.โ
โThis is your boyfriendโs jacket.โ
โNo, itโs not.โ
โIt literally has my name on it.โ
She squinted at the embroidered Graham on the chest like letters were a personal challenge. โLots of people are named Graham.โ
โNot on this team.โ
โYou donโt know that.โ
โI do, actually. Iโm the captain.โ
Her face twisted with immediate doubt, like that was exactly the sort of lie a jacket predator would tell at a party. โYouโre the captain?โ
Garrett stared at her. โOh my God.โ
From the couch, Logan made a strangled sound into his beer.
She pointed at Garrettโs chest, very serious now. โMy boyfriend is the captain.โ
โYeah, Iโve heard great things.โ
โHeโs very hot.โ
โIs he?โ
โSo hot,โ she said, and then sighed, soft and dramatic and so genuinely fond that Garrettโs irritation had nowhere to land. โLike, stupid hot. Itโs actually kind of annoying.โ
Garrettโs face moved before he could stop it, warmth pulling at his mouth. โYeah?โ
She nodded. โAnd he has really nice hands.โ
Logan choked.
Garrett didnโt look away from her. โGood hands are important.โ
โThey are,โ she agreed solemnly. โAnd heโs not some random guy trying to give girls jackets.โ
โRight.โ He held up the jacket between them, helpless now. โCan I justโโ
โNo thank you.โ
โYouโre gonna freeze.โ
โIโll wait for Garrett.โ
โYou do that,โ he said, because love was standing in a hockey house holding your own jacket while your drunk girlfriend faithfully rejected you on your own behalf. โSounds like a plan.โ
She smiled at him then, bright and polite. โThank you for understanding.โ
Garrett looked at her for a long moment, then at the jacket, then back at her. โAnytime.โ
He walked away to the sound of Logan losing the fight against laughter so badly he had to bend over his own knees.
โYouโre not helping,โ Garrett said.
Logan wiped under one eye. โIโm sorry, man, but sheโs loyal as hell.โ
โShe thinks Iโm a stranger.โ
โShe thinks youโre a stranger with bad intentions. Thereโs a difference.โ
โGreat. That makes it better.โ
Tucker came up beside them, looking far too amused for somebody usually committed to being the reasonable one. โYou know, technically, this is a very good sign for your relationship.โ
Garrett gave him a look. โDonโt start.โ
โSheโs hammered and still refusing men for you.โ
โShe refused me.โ
โExactly. Nobody is safe.โ
Dean reappeared then, because joy, unfortunately, had a way of finding him. โI just heard she wouldnโt wear your jacket.โ
Garrettโs jaw tightened. โYou heard wrong.โ
Dean grinned. โDid I?โ
โIโm gonna kill you before playoffs.โ
โNo, youโre not. Youโre too busy getting friend-zoned by your girlfriend.โ
Garrett shoved him in the chest. Dean laughed all the way into the kitchen.
By the time Garrett found her again, she had somehow migrated to the old armchair near the stairs, sitting sideways with her knees tucked up and Dean perched on the arm like some kind of terrible emotional support animal.ย
Her bare arms were folded tight over her chest now, because she was still cold and still deeply committed to jacket monogamy. Her face had changed too. Gone softer around the edges, bottom lip pushed out, all the earlier moral outrage curdled into something wounded and grumpy.
Garrett stopped a few feet away. Dean saw him first and his grin turned wicked. โOh, thank God.โ
She frowned up at Dean. โWhat?โ
โNothing.โ Dean patted the top of the chair. โYour nightโs about to improve.โ
She slumped deeper into the cushion, still looking at Dean. โI havenโt seen Garrett all night.โ
Garrett blinked.
Dean pressed his lips together so hard his whole face went strange.
She kept going, mournful now, eyes glossy from alcohol and the kind of drama that only really existed after midnight in a crowded house. โHeโs, like, disappeared.โ
Garrett slowly looked at Dean.
โHe had a game,โ she said, to no one in particular, or maybe to Deanโs knee. โAnd I wanted to tell him he played really good.โ
โHe knows,โ Dean said, voice suspiciously tight.
โNo, but I wanted to tell him.โ She rubbed at one eye with the heel of her hand, then stopped halfway as if remembering makeup existed. โAnd thereโs this guy who keeps talking to me.โ
Garrettโs eyebrows went up.
Dean made direct eye contact with him and looked like he might actually pass away.
โHe keeps calling me baby,โ she muttered. โAnd trying to make me drink water.โ
Garrett bit the inside of his cheek.
โSounds awful,โ Dean managed.
โSo annoying,โ she said. โLike, okay, hydration police. I have a boyfriend.โ
Garrett stepped closer then, because there were only so many times a man could be called the hydration police by the love of his life before he had to intervene. โHey, baby.โ
Her head lifted. The transformation was immediate and almost violent. Her whole face opened, bright and relieved and suddenly so happy to see him that it genuinely knocked the joke sideways in his chest. โGarrett!โ
He froze. โHi?โ
โBaby!โ She reached both arms out toward him from the chair, nearly tipping herself forward in the process. Garrett crossed the last step fast and caught her by the hands before she could slide off the cushion. โHi.โ
โHi,โ he said again, slower this time, looking down at her. โYou recognise me now?โ
She frowned like heโd said something deeply strange. โWhat are you talking about?โ
Dean made a sound that might have been a cough if he had not immediately turned away with his shoulders shaking.
Garrett stared at her. โNothing.โ
She squeezed his face, delighted and fully unaware of the damage sheโd caused him tonight. โI missed you.โ
His mouth softened despite himself. โYeah?โ
โYes.โ She tugged at him, needy and uncoordinated, until he stepped properly between her legs where sheโd moved to sit properly in the chair. Her knees bracketed his thighs, her fingers curling in the front of his shirt like now that she had found him, she intended to physically prevent further abandonment. โYou were gone for so long.โ
Garrett looked at her for one second, then over her head at Dean, who was wiping tears out of the corner of his eye. โI was around.โ
She shook her head, very firm. โNo.โ
โNo?โ
โNo. There was just this guy.โ
Garrett nodded, face serious. โRight. The water guy.โ
She gasped softly, looking up at him with genuine alarm. โYou saw him?โ
Dean slid off the arm of the chair. โI need to go tell Logan something immediately.โ
Garrett didnโt even try to stop him. His hands had settled at her waist now, thumbs pressing lightly over the fabric of her top because she was still swaying in tiny increments even while sitting down. โYeah, baby, I saw him.โ
โYou should talk to him.โ
โOh, I should?โ
โYes.โ Her voice dropped into a whisper that wasnโt remotely quiet. โHe was flirting with me.โ
Garrettโs eyes flicked over her face. โWas he?โ
โHe kept calling me baby.โ
โThatโs crazy.โ
โAnd he tried to give me his jacket.โ
โWhat a dick.โ
She nodded, relieved that he understood the severity. โI know.โ
Garrettโs grin finally broke free, slow and helpless. He stepped closer until her forehead could tip against his stomach, and when it did, she sighed like the entire night had been restored to its proper axis by the smell of his shirt.ย
He looked down at the crown of her head, at the way her hands had found the hem of his t-shirt and held on loosely, and brushed his fingers once over the back of her hair.
She had rejected him all night. She had accused him of being a stranger, declined his water on principle, refused his jacket with the ferocity of a woman defending a sacred oath, and still somehow the inside of him went soft at the way she leaned into him now, trusting and warm and gone enough to be ridiculous but not gone enough to forget where she wanted to end up.
โBaby,โ he murmured.
โMhm?โ
โYou wanna get outta here?โ
Her head lifted at once. โYes, please.โ
โYeah?โ He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, watching the way her eyes followed his face now with no suspicion at all. โYou done?โ
โSo done.โ She nodded, then winced faintly at the motion like her brain had moved one direction and her skull another. โCan we go home?โ
โYeah, we can go home.โ
โAnd maybe get McDonaldโs?โ
Garrett laughed under his breath, and the sound made her smile like sheโd won something. โSure, baby.โ
โReally?โ
โYeah. But you gotta stand up first.โ
She looked down at her own legs with sudden doubt. โOkay.โ
โConfident.โ
โI can do it.โ
โI know you can.โ He took both her hands and backed up half a step, giving her room. โCome on. Up we go.โ
She stood with the intense focus of someone attempting a field sobriety test on a ship. Garrettโs hands went to her waist at once, steadying her as her knees straightened and her body tipped forward into his.ย
He didnโt make a show of it. Didnโt laugh when she grabbed his forearms and blinked hard at the room. He only held her until she found the floor again, fingers spread warm and firm at her sides.
โThere we go,โ he said softly. โYou good?โ
She nodded, then thought about it. โMostly.โ
โMostly works.โ He leaned around her just enough to grab his letterman jacket from the back of the chair โCan I put this on you now, or are we still being loyal to your boyfriend?โ
She looked at the jacket. Then up at him. Then back at the jacket.
โThatโs yours,โ she said, like he was the one struggling to keep up.
Garrett pressed his lips together. โYeah.โ
She smiled, sweet and pleased. โOkay.โ
He slid it over her shoulders. This time she pushed her arms into the sleeves with immediate enthusiasm, even though they swallowed her hands completely.ย
Garrett zipped it halfway because she was too busy smelling the collar with a happy little hum that did absolutely nothing for his ability to remain normal.
โYou smell good,โ she told him.
โThanks.โ
โLike Garrett.โ
โCrazy coincidence.โ
She nodded, accepting that, and slipped her hand into his when he offered it. Her fingers were warm and clumsy between his, squeezing twice like she was checking he was real. He squeezed back once and started guiding her through the house.
The party kept moving around them. Someone called his name from the kitchen and Garrett lifted his free hand without stopping. Logan appeared near the doorway, took one look at them, and grinned.
โShe found you,โ he said.
Garrett pointed at him. โNot a word.โ
She turned toward Logan, solemn and slightly off-balance. โThere was a guy bothering me all night.โ
Loganโs mouth opened. Closed. He looked at Garrett, then back at her. โNo way.โ
She nodded. โWay.โ
Garrett kept walking. โLetโs go.โ
Behind them, Logan said, โHope your boyfriend handles that.โ
She turned around while still moving, which forced Garrett to catch her by the waist and redirect her like a shopping cart with a bad wheel. โHe will!โ
โIโm sure he will,โ Logan called, voice cracking around laughter.
Outside, the cold hit her properly. She shrank into the jacket at once, shoulders rising, Garrettโs hand still wrapped around hers while they moved down the front steps and along the path toward his car.ย
The night was damp and dark around the edges, grass glittering faintly under the porch light, the music dulling behind the shut door until it became a pulse more than a song. She walked close to him, not quite straight, occasionally bumping into his side and then apologising to his arm.
โBaby,โ she said halfway down the walk.
โYeah?โ
โThat guy was so annoying.โ
Garrett glanced down at her. โStill thinkinโ about him?โ
โHe was talking to me all night.โ
โSounds like a loser.โ
โHe was kind of hot, though.โ
Garrett stopped walking.
She stopped too, delayed, then looked back at him with wide innocent eyes. โWhat?โ
He stared at her. โHot?โ
She nodded, very serious. โBut not as hot as you.โ
โUh huh.โ
โAnd he had your jacket.โ
โMy jacket?โ
โYeah.โ Her brows pulled together. โActually, that was weird.โ
Garrett looked up at the sky for patience. โSo weird.โ
โYou should talk to him, baby. Iโm serious.โ
โOh, I will.โ
โGood.โ She nodded once, satisfied, and started walking again. โDonโt fight him though. You had a game.โ
His mouth twitched. โRight. Wouldnโt wanna overdo it.โ
โAnd you already won.โ
โI did.โ
โYou were really good,โ she said, and the words came out softer now, slipping under the joke with no warning at all. Her fingers tightened around his. โI forgot to tell you.โ
Garrettโs steps slowed by a fraction. He looked down at her, at her messy hair and flushed cheeks and his too-big jacket hanging off her shoulders, at the careful way she was watching the pavement. โYeah?โ
โMhm. You did that thing.โ She lifted their joined hands vaguely, as if the thing might be available in the air somewhere. โWhere you went really fast and then the other guy was stupid.โ
Garrett laughed, warm and surprised. โThat was my favourite play.โ
โIt was good. Iโm real proud of you.โ
โThanks, baby.โ
She leaned into his arm, pleased. โYouโre welcome.โ
At the car, he opened the passenger door and turned her gently by the hips before she could attempt entry at a dangerous angle. โAlright. Watch your head.โ
โI always watch my head.โ
โYou donโt.โ
โI have one.โ
โHaving one and watching it are different.โ
She ducked into the car with exaggerated care, one hand on the roof, one hand still gripping his. Garrett waited until she was seated, then crouched slightly and drew the seatbelt across her.ย
She looked down at him while he clicked it into place, her expression suddenly soft and sleepy. โBaby.โ
โYeah?โ
โIโm so glad I found you.โ
His hand paused on the belt for half a second.
She sighed, sinking back into the seat, eyes half-lidded now that the carโs quiet had started wrapping around her. โI missed you tonight.โ
Garrett looked at her in the blue dashboard glow, and something in his chest pulled tight and fond and a little ridiculous. โMissed you too.โ
โThere was this guyโโ
โI heard.โ
โโand he kept trying to give me water.โ
โSo rude.โ
โExactly.โ Her head tipped against the seat, eyes closing for one beat before opening again. โCan you get me nuggets?โ
Garrett smiled and brushed his thumb over her knee before standing. โYeah, babe. Iโll get you nuggets.โ
โAnd fries.โ
โObviously.โ
โAnd a Sprite.โ
โYou need water.โ
She made a face. โThe guy said that too.โ
Garrett leaned one arm on the open door and looked down at her, trying very hard not to smile too much because she would see it and accuse him of something. โThe guy sounds smart.โ
She frowned. โDonโt compliment him.โ
โMy bad.โ
โYouโre my boyfriend.โ
โI am.โ
โAnd I love you.โ
The words came out simple and softened by vodka and sleepiness and the warm cocoon of his jacket around her, but real enough that Garrett felt them land under his ribs.
He bent and kissed her forehead. โI love you too.โ
She smiled, eyes closed now. โGood.โ
โGood,โ he murmured, brushing her hair back from her face before shutting the door.ย
He walked around the front of the car with a grin he couldnโt quite get rid of, hearing the muffled thump of the party behind him and the faint sound of her shifting around in the passenger seat like she was trying to get comfortable in sleeves three sizes too big.ย
When he got in, she was already curled toward his side, cheek against the seat, looking at him with heavy eyes and total, trusting recognition.
Garrett started the car. She reached blindly for his hand. He gave it to her.
For a minute they sat there in the dim quiet before he pulled away from the curb, her fingers woven through his, his thumb moving once over her knuckles. Then she inhaled like she had remembered something important.
โBabe?โ
โYeah?โ
โYouโre gonna talk to that guy, right?โ
Garrett smiled at the road, the house falling behind them, McDonaldโs glowing somewhere ahead like a drunken little lighthouse.
โYeah,โ he said. โIโll give him a stern talking-to.โ
โGood,โ she mumbled, already drifting. โTell him I have a boyfriend.โ
His grin widened.
โTrust me, baby,โ Garrett said, squeezing her hand once as he turned out onto the street. โHe knows.โ
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pairing โ garrett graham x reader
summary โ four times garrettโs chain causes problems, and one very smug hockey captain pretends he isnโt loving every second of it.
warnings โ suggestive content, making out/grinding, mild sexual references, implied oral sex, drinking, party setting, garrett being smug and whipped.
notes from me โ as part of my 1k celebrations, here's the top requested fic!! enjoy ๐ซถ๐ผ
word count โ 5k
navigation โ masterlist | taglist
The first time Garrett realises his chain is a problem, they're in his room with the door locked, the bass from downstairs moving through the floorboards in lazy, uneven pulses and the old house doing what the old house always does around a party, which is pretend itโs not seen worse.ย
There are voices below them, Loganโs laugh cutting through once in a bright, drunken bark, Dean yelling something that sounds like an accusation and Tucker answering with the sort of dry, patient tone that means someone is absolutely about to be called an idiot.ย
But up here, everything has gone smaller. Warmer. The room narrowed down to Garrettโs weight between her thighs, the soft give of his mattress under her back, the skirt shoved high enough on her hips that there's no point pretending itโs even a skirt anymore, and his mouth dragging over hers like he has all night and no better use for it.
He kisses like an athlete too, which is deeply annoying information to have about him because it makes too much sense. Confident, paced, unfairly good at changing pressure right when she starts thinking sheโs adjusted to him.ย
One hand is braced beside her head, the other curled around her thigh, thumb pressing absent little circles into skin like he doesn't know itโs making her thoughts get weird and slippery around the edges. Heโs still wearing his t-shirt, which feels rude considering sheโs in a bra and skirt and whatever dignity survived the trip up the stairs is now lying somewhere dead near his laundry basket.ย
His chain has slipped out from under his collar while he kisses her, warm gold catching against the side of her throat every time he grinds down into her and makes her breath come out embarrassingly thin.
โGarrett,โ she gets out, though it doesn't have much purpose beyond giving her mouth something to do when his is suddenly leaving it.
He hums like heโs heard her and decided to take it under advisement at a later date. His mouth drifts to her jaw, then lower, slow and pleased and entirely too smug about the way her body moves before she can stop it.ย
He kisses down her throat, over the spot where her pulse is doing something humiliating, then lower still, along the top edge of her bra, and she should probably let him. She should probably enjoy the fact that Garrett Graham, Briar hockey captain, walking campus hazard, has decided her chest deserves sustained attention.ย
But the second his mouth leaves hers properly, some spoiled little part of her lights up in objection.
โNo,โ she whines, which is not her proudest moment, and is made worse by the fact that Garrett pauses against her skin like heโs trying not to laugh. She reaches down and gets her fingers in his hair, gentle but insistent, tugging him back up until his face appears over hers again, curls mussed, mouth shiny, eyes bright with the kind of amusement that makes her want to either kiss him harder or shove him off the bed. โCome back.โ
His grin spreads slowly. โBossy.โ
โYou stopped kissing me.โ
โI was kissing you somewhere else.โ
She pouts. โWrong somewhere.โ
He gives one of those little laughs that starts in his chest before it reaches his mouth, warm and low and stupidly pleased, and then he comes back happily, because thatโs the worst part of Garrett.ย
He has all this cocky-boy resistance in theory, all this mouth and attitude and captain-of-every-room energy, and then she asks for him directly and his body gives him away before his ego can file an appeal. He kisses her again, deep enough that the complaint evaporates under her tongue, and for a few seconds she forgets about the chain entirely.
Then he pulls back to sit up on his knees, one thigh planted on either side of her hips, and reaches behind his neck for his shirt.
โOh,โ she says before she can stop herself.
Garrett pauses with the hem already half up his stomach, eyebrows lifting. โOh?โ
โShut up.โ
โI didnโt say anything.โ
โYou were about to.โ
His teeth catch at his bottom lip. โI was about to ask if you needed a minute to process.โ
She narrows her eyes at him, which would probably have more force if she were not lying under him with her skirt bunched around her waist and her hands already drifting up his exposed stomach. โYouโre so annoying.โ
โYeah, but youโre still looking.โ
And she is. Tragically. Openly. With no legal defence. The shirt comes off the rest of the way and lands somewhere near the chair, and Garrett is there above her in the soft lamplight, shoulders broad from hockey, stomach tight under her palms, chain resting against his chest like itโs been placed there for the express purpose of ruining her life.ย
It's not even that fancy. Thatโs the insulting part. Just a gold chain. Simple. Warm from his skin. Sitting right at the base of his throat.
Her hands slide up his stomach, over the hard shift of muscle when he breathes, and she catches her bottom lip between her teeth without meaning to.
Garrettโs grin softens into something more dangerous because he knows. Because Garrett is many things, but oblivious is not one of them, especially not when a girl is looking at his chest like sheโs discovered a new academic field.
โBaby,โ he says, amused.
She doesn't answer. She hooks two fingers under the chain and pulls. Garrett comes down with it, one hand shooting to the mattress beside her head, the other catching her waist as he laughs into the space above her mouth. โJesus. Okay.โ
She smiles, breath already uneven again. โCome here.โ
โI was here.โ
โCloser.โ
His mouth hovers over hers, his chain trapped between her fingers, the metal a little warm, a little slick where itโs been resting against his skin. โYou always this demanding?โ
She tugs again, smaller this time, mostly because she likes the way his eyes drop to her mouth when she does it. โOnly when youโre slow.โ
Garrett stares at her for one beat, and then the smile goes all bright and helpless at the edges, like sheโs pleased him against his will.ย
โYeah,โ he murmurs, bending until the chain brushes her collarbone and his mouth is almost on hers again. โThatโs gonna be a problem.โ
The second time is quieter, though quiet in the hockey house is a relative concept and mostly means no one is actively breaking furniture within their line of sight. They're downstairs on the couch after dinner, the living room dim except for the television throwing blue-white light over everyoneโs faces and the standing lamp Tucker keeps insisting gives the room ambience, which Dean keeps calling divorced dad lighting.ย
A movieโs on, something Logan picked with the confidence of a man who would be asleep within twenty minutes, and sure enough heโs already slumped in the armchair with his head tipped back and one socked foot on the coffee table, snoring faintly through the loudest action sequence anyone has ever failed to respect.
Garrettโs stretched out behind her on the couch, one arm tucked under her head like a pillow, the other lying heavy over her waist. Sheโs settled half on top of him, half against him, legs tangled beneath the old throw blanket that smells faintly like fabric softener and Garrettโs laundry detergent and whatever popcorn crime Dean committed earlier.ย
The whole room has that late-night, lived-in warmth to it. Empty bowls on the coffee table, Tucker leaning on the other end of the couch with his phone in one hand and his attention somehow still half on the movie, Dean sprawled on the floor with his back against Allieโs legs while she runs her fingers lazily through his hair like sheโs rewarding a large, badly behaved dog.
Garrettโs chain has worked its way out again. She doesn't mean to start fiddling with it. Her hand is just there, resting against his chest, and the chain is right under her fingertips, cool at first and then quickly warming up.ย
Her thumb catches the tiny curve of one link. Then another. Then sheโs sliding it back and forth lightly against his skin, not really thinking, only listening to the movie and the steady sound of his breathing under her cheek and the occasional thud of Dean kicking the coffee table because he refuses to understand where his legs end.
Garrett lets it happen for a while. Long enough that she forgets sheโs doing it. Long enough for the metal to move in a tiny, repetitive drag under her fingers, a private little rhythm tucked beneath explosions and the muffled rain starting against the windows.ย
His chest rises under her palm. His hand at her waist flexes once, absent, and she shifts closer without lifting her head. Then his fingers close around her wrist. Warm and sure, stopping the motion.
She glances up. โWhat?โ
Garrett looks down at her with the deeply patient expression of a man being tortured in a way heโs not allowed to enjoy too obviously. โYouโve been doing that for ten minutes.โ
โDoing what?โ
His eyes flick to the chain. Then back to her. โThat.โ
โOh.โ She looks down at her hand, caught in his like evidence. โWas I annoying you?โ
โNo.โ
โYou stopped me.โ
โBecause,โ he says, lowering his voice as Dean makes a disgusted noise at the movie and Allie tells him to stop talking before she smothers him with a cushion, โyou keep touching my neck, and Iโm trying to be a decent citizen in a communal living space.โ
Her mouth twitches. โYour neck?โ
โMy chain is on my neck.โ
She bites back a smile. โThatโs very scientific of you.โ
โI go to college.โ
โFor hockey.โ
He sucks at his teeth, a grin spreading across his face. โFor hockey and the pursuit of knowledge.โ
She laughs into his chest, and he immediately looks pleased with himself in that quiet Garrett way, like making her laugh while half the room is asleep counts as a personal win.ย
His hand slides from her wrist to her fingers, lifting them to his mouth. He kisses her knuckles once, soft and warm, then again, slower, like he can get away with it because nobodyโs looking directly at them. The contact sends a stupid little wave through her, low and gentle, a sudden looseness in her ribs and the sense that her body has settled another inch into his.
โStop playing with it,โ he murmurs against her hand.
โI didnโt know it was an activity with rules.โ
โIt is now.โ
โSounds controlling.โ
โSounds like youโre too hot for your own good and Iโm a responsible man.โ
She lifts her head just enough to look at him properly. โYouโre so full of shit.โ
Garrett smiles like thatโs his favourite thing sheโs said all day. โA little, yeah.โ
Then he threads his fingers through hers and brings their joined hands down to rest against his stomach, trapping her there with him. Garrettโs hand stays wrapped around hers. Firm. Warm. His thumb moves once over the side of her finger, slow enough that it feels accidental and deliberate at the same time.
The third time, she should know somethingโs wrong with the whole arrangement because Garrett offers it too easily. It's the morning of her exam, a big one, the kind that has lived in the back of her head for three weeks like an unpaid bill and ruined several perfectly good evenings by existing near them.ย
Sheโs already eaten half a banana, stared at her notes until the words lost meaning, changed shirts twice, and accused Garrett of breathing too loudly while he sat on her bed watching her spiral with the sort of affectionate calm that made her want to throw a highlighter at him.
โYou studied,โ he says, for maybe the fourth time, lying on his side with one elbow propped under him and his curls still damp from the shower. โLike, a disgusting amount. I know because you made me quiz you last night and I learned things against my will.โ
She stands in front of the mirror, smoothing her top down and then immediately undoing the smoothing because now it looks too deliberate. โThat doesnโt mean I know it.โ
โThatโs actually exactly what studying means.โ
โNo, studying means I knew it at midnight in your bed while you were half asleep and kept pronouncing things wrong on purpose.โ
โI was keeping morale up.โ
She turns to glare at him, and he grins at her from the bed, annoyingly gorgeous and unhelpfully relaxed, his chain sitting against his bare collarbone because he hasnโt put a shirt on yet. Which is also rude. Honestly, the whole morning has been a campaign of emotional terrorism.
โIโm serious,โ she says, and the words come out thinner than she wants.
His face changes then. The grin doesn't disappear entirely, because Garrett without some amount of grin would be genuinely concerning, but it settles. He sits up properly, feet hitting the floor, and reaches for her when she comes close enough. His hands land at her hips, warm through the fabric, thumbs pressing once like heโs reminding her she has a body and it's standing here, not drowning somewhere in the imagined future of a badly answered essay question.
โI know you are,โ he says. โI also know youโre gonna kill it.โ
โDonโt say that.โ
โWhat, kill it?โ
โYes.โ
โFine. Youโre gonnaโฆ respectfully and academically dominate.โ
โGarrett.โ
He laughs under his breath and tugs her closer until sheโs standing between his knees. Then, with the sudden seriousness of someone remembering an ancient ritual and not a bit he came up with seven seconds ago, he reaches behind his neck and unclasps the chain.
She looks down at it. โWhat are you doing?โ
โGood luck.โ
Her eyes lift to his. โWhat?โ
He holds it up between them, gold catching the morning light from her window. โItโs lucky.โ
She stares at him. โYour chain is lucky?โ
โExtremely.โ
โYouโve never said that.โ
He looks almost offended. โI donโt tell everyone my deeply personal athletic superstitions.โ
โYou told Dean you had to wear the same socks for playoffs.โ
โThat was different. He touched them.โ
โThat feels like a public health issue more than a superstition.โ
Garrett ignores this, and gestures for her to turn around. She does, suspicious but too nervous to fight him properly. He stands behind her, and for a second the mirror catches both of them: her in exam clothes and stress, him shirtless and too calm, chain hanging from his fingers.ย
He lifts it around her neck, his knuckles grazing the sides of her throat as he brings the clasp together. The metal lands cool against her skin, heavier than she expects, and something in her chest gives one stupid little pull.
โThere,โ he says, hands settling briefly on her shoulders. โGuaranteed.โ
She touches the chain with two fingers. โGuaranteed?โ
โYeah.โ
โIf I fail, Iโm blaming your jewellery.โ
โIf you fail, Iโll fake my death and start over somewhere chainless.โ
She laughs then, finally, and it comes out shaky but real. Garrettโs eyes meet hers in the mirror, his mouth tipped in a way thatโs half smug and half proud of having pulled the sound out of her.ย
He bends and kisses the side of her head, quick, easy, like he doesn't know the chain suddenly feels like some ridiculous little anchor against her collarbone.
โGo,โ he says. โAce it. Then come back and be unbearable about it.โ
She does ace it.
She walks out of the exam hall two hours later with the weird, floating, slightly manic clarity of someone who knows the questions landed exactly where she needed them to, who wrote until her hand cramped, who remembered the thing from the bottom of page seven that she had absolutely expected to die with no audience.ย
She calls Garrett from the sidewalk and says, โI think I nailed it,โ and he shouts so loudly through the phone that a girl walking past looks over in alarm.
โTell the chain I said thank you,โ she says later that night, when sheโs in his room again, sitting cross-legged on his bed with takeout containers open between them and his hoodie swallowed over her exam clothes because the adrenaline crash has finally arrived and brought a mild existential fog with it.
Garrett looks up from stealing one of her fries. โWhat?โ
โThe chain.โ She taps it where it still sits at her throat. โYour ancient family luck charm.โ
There's a pause. It's tiny. Almost nothing. But Garrett Graham has many gifts, and hiding guilt from his girlfriend while his mouth is full of stolen fries is not one of them.
Her eyes narrow. โGarrett.โ
He chews slowly.
โGarrett Graham.โ
He swallows. โOkay, before you get madโโ
โOh my God.โ She sits up straighter. โItโs not lucky?โ
โItโs, uh, lucky adjacent.โ
โWhat does that mean?โ
โIt means Iโve worn it to some good games.โ
โYou told me it was extremely lucky.โ
โI was trying to get you out of your head.โ
โYou lied!โ
โI motivated.โ He points at her with a fry. โAnd you crushed your exam, so actually, whereโs my thank you?โ
She stares at him for one second. Then another. The chainโs warm now from her skin, and the fact that he made it up should be annoying. It is annoying.ย
It's also so Garrett that something in her gives up and goes soft around the edges despite herself, because he saw her standing in front of the mirror two seconds from vibrating through the floorboards and decided the solution was to hand her something of his and make it sound official enough for her nervous system to believe him.
โYouโre unbelievable,โ she says.
His grin comes back immediately, bright with relief and bad ideas. โBut effective.โ
โYouโre never getting this back.โ
โBaby, I look really good in that chain.โ
โI look better.โ
He studies her for a second, eyes dropping to where the gold sits against the oversized neckline of his hoodie, and his mouth does something slower.ย
โYeah,โ he says, voice rougher. โYou do.โ
Her fingers move to the chain. His eyes track the motion. The takeout goes forgotten between them, steam thinning in the cartons, the lamp laying warm light over his bed and the stupid little lucky-not-lucky object at her throat.
She crawls toward him, slow enough to make his brows lift.
โWhat?โ he asks, though his hands are already moving to her waist when she pushes the cartons aside with the care of someone who doesn't want to get sauce on his sheets but absolutely does want to ruin his evening in other ways.
โYou want a thank you?โ
Garrettโs mouth opens, then closes. He tilts his head, trying for casual and missing by a heroic distance. โI mean, Iโm not gonna say no to gratitude.โ
โGood,โ she says, and leans in to kiss him once, soft enough that he follows when she pulls away.
His hands tighten on her hips. โGood?โ
โMhm.โ
Then she slides off the bed onto her knees between his legs, and Garrett goes very, very still. For once in his life, he doesn't have a comeback ready.
She looks up at him, the chain hanging forward from her neck, gold swinging slightly in the space between them, and his eyes drop to it like heโs experiencing several personal revelations at once.
โStill think itโs lucky?โ she asks.
Garrett exhales through his nose, a smile breaking helplessly at one corner of his mouth as his hand comes up to brush her hair back, careful and warm and already a little wrecked.ย
โBaby,โ he says, voice low with absolute reverence and zero shame, โIโm about to start fucking worshipping it.โ
The fourth time is after a home game, which means the hockey house is operating at a volume level that could probably be reported to local authorities if local authorities hadn't long ago made peace with the fact that Briar hockey players were simply going to make too much noise.ย
The living room is packed in that loose, post-win sprawl of bodies and beer and boys shouting over one another from distances that donโt require shouting at all. Someone has put the game highlights on the television and every single person in the room is pretending they're not watching themselves while absolutely watching themselves.ย
Logan is arguing with a guy from the second line about whether his assist should have been cleaner, Tucker is sitting on the arm of the couch with a beer in hand and the calm expression of a man who played very well and doesn't need to scream about it, and Dean is stretched in the middle of the room like a Renaissance painting sponsored by bad decisions, loudly explaining to Allie that his defensive effort has layers.
Garrettโs on the couch below her, sitting with his legs spread, one arm hooked along the back cushions, hair still damp from the post-game shower and curling messily. He looks good in the obnoxious, lived-in way he always does after a win. Tired under the eyes, mouth lazy with satisfaction, hoodie pushed up at the forearms, chain glinting at his throat every time he turns his head to answer someone.ย
There's a faint bruise starting near one cheekbone and stiffness in the way he holds his shoulders that heโs pretending doesn't exist because men who willingly block shots with their bodies have a complicated relationship with the concept of pain.
Sheโs standing behind the couch with her arms looped around his shoulders, her cheek resting against the side of his head, close enough that when he laughs she feels it before she hears it. The room smells like beer and aftershave and pizza grease and wet pavement dragged in from outside.ย
Her chin is tucked near his temple, and his hand comes up every so often to touch her wrist where it crosses his chest, as if checking sheโs still there even though sheโs been draped over him for fifteen minutes like an affectionate scarf.
โYouโre tense,โ she murmurs near his ear.
Garrett tilts his head slightly toward her. โI got checked into the boards by a guy built like a refrigerator.โ
โI saw.โ
โYou also yelled โget upโ at me.โ
โYou did get up.โ
He huffs. โSupportive.โ
โIโm very motivational.โ
He smiles, eyes still on Logan across the room. โYeah, Coach, youโre a real asset.โ
She presses her thumb into the muscle at the top of his shoulder before he can get too smug, and his mouth shuts in the middle of whatever he was about to say. Thereโs a small drop in his posture, a breath leaving through his nose, his head tipping forward half an inch because the pressure hits somewhere useful.
โOh,โ she says softly, pleased. โThere he is.โ
โDonโt sound so happy about my suffering.โ
โIโm happy about being right.โ
He hums quietly. โYou usually are.โ
She starts working at his shoulders properly, thumbs pressing slow circles into the hard knots there, fingers sliding under the edge of his hoodie collar. Garrett tries to keep participating in the conversation around him, because Garrett Graham could be dying and still find time to chirp a teammate, but she feels him lose focus by degrees.ย
His answers get shorter. His hand drops from his beer to rest loosely on his thigh. When she presses into the muscle beside his neck, he makes a low sound under his breath that is almost nothing and somehow still deeply satisfying.
Dean notices, of course. Dean would notice a private moment through drywall.
โOh, thatโs cute,โ he says from the floor, voice carrying with surgical precision. โCaptainโs getting a little spa treatment.โ
Garrett doesn't open his eyes. โYou jealous, Di Laurentis?โ
โOf a shoulder rub? No. Of your girlfriend looking at you like you just returned from war? Little bit.โ
Allie leans around him. โHe did get slammed pretty hard.โ
Dean points at her. โSee? This is why I date women. Compassion.โ
Tucker takes a sip of beer. โYou date Allie because she tolerates you.โ
โThat too.โ
She ignores them, and keeps working her thumbs into Garrettโs shoulders. The only problem is the chain. It keeps getting in the way, slipping under her fingers every time she moves toward the base of his neck, catching lightly against her knuckle, dragging sideways over his skin. She shifts it once. Twice. The third time, Garrett reaches up without looking, catches her wrist, and then lifts his other hand to the clasp.
โHere,โ he says.
She pauses. โWhat?โ
He takes the chain off in one smooth motion, turning his head enough to glance up at her with that soft, amused look that always feels worse when other people are around because it's not performative. It's just his face, open for one second before he remembers to make a joke. โHere, baby. Wear it before you strangle me with it.โ
The room hears baby. Naturally. The room reacts with the dignity of wolves spotting an injured deer. Loganโs head snaps over. โOh, wow.โ
Dean sits up so fast Allie has to move her knees. โDid he just give her the chain?โ
Tuckerโs mouth twitches. โBig night.โ
Garrett points vaguely at all of them without turning around. โEverybody shut up.โ
No one shuts up. That would go against the entire founding philosophy of the house.
She bends down anyway, smiling despite herself, hair falling forward over one shoulder. Garrett lifts the chain around her neck from where he sits, reaching back and up, his fingers careful as they brush the sides of her throat. It's an awkward angle, and he fumbles once with the clasp.
Dean gasps. โHeโs putting jewellery on her. In public. Garrett Graham has fallen.โ
โI will throw this beer at you,โ Garrett says.
โNo, you wonโt. Your girlโs wearing your chain and touching your shoulders. Youโre domesticated now.โ
Logan lifts his cup. โRIP to a slut.โ
Garrett finally opens his eyes and looks over. โIโm still alive, asshole.โ
She laughs into Garrettโs hair before she can stop herself, and his hands settle briefly at her collarbone once the clasp is done, thumbs brushing over the chain where it sits against her skin.ย
The touch is quick. Almost hidden. But his eyes stay there for a second too long, and the whole loud room blurs slightly at the edges in that private way it sometimes does around him, even when Dean is three feet away preparing to be the worst person alive.
The chain is warm from Garrettโs skin when it lands against her throat. Something about that should not matter as much as it does.
Garrettโs head tips back until he can look up at her. โGood?โ
She nods, fingers touching the chain. โGood.โ
โCan I have my massage now, or are we hosting a ceremony?โ
โCeremony,โ Dean says immediately. โI have a speech.โ
โNo one wants that,โ Tucker says.
โI do,โ Logan contributes, raising a hand.
Garrett groans and drops his head forward again, but she can see the grin at the corner of his mouth, tucked away where the boys cannot fully get to it.
She goes back to his shoulders, the chain now resting against her instead of him, rising and falling gently with her breathing as she works the tension out from under his hoodie.
The boys keep going, because of course they do.
โWhipped,โ Dean says.
โTragically,โ Logan adds.
โClinically,โ Tucker says, which makes Allie laugh so hard she almost spills her drink.
Garrett lifts one hand just enough to flip them off without opening his eyes. โKeep talking. Iโm cutting all of you from the power play.โ
โYou canโt cut me from the power play,โ Dean says. โI am the power play.โ
She leans closer, thumbs pressing into Garrettโs neck, and murmurs, โTheyโre not wrong, you know.โ
His eyes open slightly. โCareful.โ
โWhat?โ she says, voice innocent near his ear. โYou gave me your chain in front of everyone.โ
โYou were choking me with it.โ
โI was massaging your shoulders.โ
โPoorly.โ
She pinches him lightly.
He laughs, catching her wrist and bringing her hand down just long enough to kiss the inside of it, quick and warm and entirely too natural for a room full of men actively trying to ruin his reputation. Then he lets her go and sinks back against the couch, shoulders finally loosening under her hands.
Across the room, Logan makes a wounded noise. โOh my God. He kissed her hand. We lost him.โ
Dean presses his beer to his heart. โHe was so young.โ
Tucker, dry as dust, says, โHe died doing what he loved. Pretending he wasnโt in love.โ
Garrettโs jaw ticks once, but the smile wins. She feels it more than sees it, the small shift under her cheek when she bends down again and rests against him for a second, her arms around his shoulders, his chain warm at her throat, the whole loud, stupid house moving around them.
โLove is a strong word,โ Garrett says, which is exactly the sort of thing Garrett says when everyone is looking and the truth has wandered too close to the middle of the room.
She smiles against his cheek. โMm.โ
His hand comes up and covers her forearm, fingers curling there, thumb sweeping once over her skin in a slow little pass that says more than his mouth is willing to risk with Dean waiting to pounce.
Around them, the boys keep chirping, the television keeps replaying Garrettโs goal from the second period, someone in the kitchen shouts about beer pong, and the chain rests against her collarbone like a tiny, ridiculous victory.
Garrett turns his head just enough that his mouth brushes near her temple, hidden from most of the room by the angle of her body.
โYou look good in it,โ he says quietly.
Her hands pause on his shoulders for half a second.
Then Dean yells, โI can see you whispering sweet nothings, Graham,โ and Garrett closes his eyes like heโs begging a very unhelpful God for patience, and she laughs so hard into his hair that the chain jumps lightly at her throat.
Your body is torn from a dream, your orgasm crashing through you, making you gasp and bunch up the sheets in your arms as he wakes you up in his favorite way.
"Baby?" You pant. "Mmm... fuck. Howโ"
"Missed you," he murmurs into your sex. โI need this. Let me keep taking care of you.โ
โKeep taking care of me?โ You whisper, lifting your fingers to catch a tear rolling down your cheek.
โNumber threeโฆ goinโ for four.โ His laugh rumbles low before he slaps your pussy, and you swear you can feel him smile. โBeen down here since practice, baby.โ
Your legs try to close, but he grabs your thighs and pushes them into the mattress, keeping you spread for him, thumb rubbing along the crease of your thigh.
Garrett leans in, his shoulders flexing, eyes locked on yours as he gives you a few slow licks.
He wraps his arms around you, dragging you closer to his mouth. He teases your entrance with his tongue before licking a long stripe up your folds, landing on your clit again.
You glance down and meet his half-lidded gaze. He looks completely gone.
"So good," you whimper, hips bucking. His nose brushes your clit as his tongue slips in and out of you.
He kisses your clit first and then sucks hard. You wrap your fingers in his hair, needing him closer. One hand slides away, and you moan as he sinks his long fingers deep inside you, stretching you open while he keeps sucking your clit.
The moan punches out of you before you can stop it, your thighs tightening around his head. "I'm close," you whimper, and he moans in response, curling his fingers deeper.
Garrett sucks down with more pressure as your walls flutter around his fingers, your thighs shaking hard. You soak his hand and the sheet beneath you, your back arching as he stays locked in, bottoming you out with his hand.
"Atta baby," he breathes, not looking away from you once. You cry out, twisting beneath him, but he only holds you there, tongue and fingers working you through it until every extra swipe pulls another helpless twitch out of you, breath breaking. โFuckโฆ thatโs it.โ
โOh my god,โ you moan.
"Damn, babyโฆ look at you, huh?โ He murmurs, brushing your clit with soft kisses.
"Garrett..." You whisper, blinking down at him. He looks up with a crooked smile, mouth still wet.
โStill with me, pretty?โ He teases, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh that makes you shiver.
You let out a frazzled laugh, hands rubbing across your eyes, your muscles still trembling. โHow was practice?โ The words barely make their way past your quivering lips.
He chuckles at that, his laugh vibrating against your thigh. โFineโhow was your nap, baby?โ
โAmazing.โ You smile at him, tugging at his dark hair, pulling closer. He crawls up to your lips, kissing you with a lazy grin.
โYou taste damn good, baby.โ
โYeah?โ You giggle bashfully.
โKnew you would. You always do.โ
โMissed you,โ you whisper, tasting yourself on his soft lips when he kisses you.
"Missed you more, baby,โ he mumbles. โGot all jealous when you said you were napping without me.โ
โMโsorry,โ you breathe sleepily between kisses, his smile brushing along your lips.
โApologizing to me like you didnโt make my whole afternoon with that text telling me exactly what you wanted from meโโ
โYeah?โ You hum, fingers brushing through his curls, still a little damp like he ran here from the rink, his weight pressing heavy into yours.
โMy favorite way to wake up my girl.โ
โSo good to me,โ you whisper.
โLove taking care of you,โ he mumbles, moving off of you underneath the covers, rolling to his side, gripping your hips in his big hands. โMโa little tired, baby.โ You giggle softly, arching back into him.
He tucks his face into your neck as he drags his cock through your slick, easing inside inch by inch.
You look over your shoulder, his lips matching yours, swallowing your moan as he sinks in deep. You gasp his name while yours falls from his lips.
โThereโs my girl,โ he murmurs, his grip tightening on your body, holding you tucked against him. He laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. โGoodnight, baby.โ
๐งธ๐ค taglist on my pinned post ๐ @rafesthroatbaby @liss2709-blog @sushi-girl04 @judesgfirl @cdiaz18 @fiercetigerpoison @obsessedwrafe @vanillaiceyhot @maialopez23 @rexit-mo @georgiastars13 @princessaaa13 @dragonvalyria @livlovesfastcars
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (established relationship)
Joaquรญn Torres x reader (friendship)
Bucky Barnes x reader x Joaquรญn Torres (open ended)
(female/afab reader)
Word count: 5.1k
Plot: Bucky's birthday gift to you is another man in your bed.
A/N: It's been 9 years and one day since I posted my first fic (here) so here's another birthday themed one to celebrate. There will be a part two, just not for a few weeks at least.
(all the other birthday themed fics are here)
Warnings: smut, swearing, female reader, gendered terms (established relationship, smut with plot, piv sex, oral (female receiving), kinda dom Bucky, kinda sub reader, shy reader, safe sex!! As always from me, little bit of angst, no use of y/n)
Not proof read. No use of AI.
18+ only please!!
Masterlist
AO3 ย
~~~
Bucky had you laid out over his chest, head fuzzy and ears still ringing from his very thorough attention when you brought it up. It was an idea he had originally suggested but it still took some courage to say, "Bucky? Can I ask you something?"
He hummed, tilting his head to catch your eye. You blinked and looked away, shy even now which made Bucky chuckle.
"Well?" He started when you didn't continue your thought. "What does my beautiful girl want to ask me?"ย
You whined and hid your face in his chest again. That was not helping, your heart racing more at that moment than when he was on top of you, your previous bravery vanished.
Seeing you trying to escape, he sat up against the headboard and brought you to sit on his lap, pulling one of his pyjama shirts over your head when he saw how vulnerable being naked and exposed made you feel.ย
"Hey," He whispered, all teasing gone. "Whatever it is, just tell me. I'm here."
You wished you'd kept quiet but you knew your husband, knew that he would get it out of you eventually, better in your own words clearly than make him search for clues to piece it together.ย
You took a deep breath to fight off the nausea. "Remember what you suggested for my birthday? When you said, erm, that we should, we could.... That if I wanted we could invite someone else into our bed."
Your words tumbled into each other once you got started, sitting up more and finding a point on the wall above Bucky's head to speak to as you continued.
"For, for you know, sex. Obviously. You remember that? Because I wasn't sure if I wanted to at first. I can barely deal with you, how would I manage two people? But then I was thinking, that if like you said, we, or they, could just watch or something at first, then-"ย
Bucky kissed you to stop your rambling, pressing his lips to yours then scattering pecks across your cheeks and forehead before holding your face and searching your eyes.
"You've really thought about it, huh?"
You nodded, smiling at the glint in Bucky's own eyes.ย
"Someone we know?"
"Yes."
"Closely?"ย
"Uh huh."
"Not Sam surely?"ย
"Oh, no," You squeaked, laughing a little self consciously. "I don't think I'd survive between two super soldiers."ย
"Sam's not a-"ย
"You know what I mean."
Bucky rolled his eyes but went back to guessing. "Okay if not Sam, then who? You know I don't know many people." He looked panicked suddenly, holding you tight as he almost begged. "Not John, right? I am not letting him-"ย
"I said no super soldier, didn't I?" You interrupted.
"No one like that, not someone you don't really like."
He relaxed under you again, readjusting the hem of his shirt on you to keep his hands busy.ย
"You tell me sweetheart, it's your choice after all."
You hadn't planned this far in the conversation and it took several seconds for you to compose yourself, your answer surprisingly steady considering.ย
"Joaquรญn."
It was very quiet after you spoke, your heart beat sounding like a drum in your ears as you tried to judge Bucky's reaction.ย
"Joaquรญn." He replied eventually, voice flat. "Joaquรญn Torres? Your best friend Joaquรญn Torres who you told me I didn't need to worry about? That one?"ย
You didn't move, letting Bucky process. He knew you would never betray him. You knew he trusted you. A silent but persuasive conversation communicated purely through eye contact had his shoulders relaxing and his hands finding yours, squeezing reassuringly.ย
"You sure?" You nodded slowly until Bucky joined in, the rollercoaster of emotions settling into a simmering excitement between the two of you. "Okay, birthday girl, it's your call. Joaquรญn better know how lucky he is if he wants to share."
***
"You should be thankful, my girl got all dressed up for you. I bought her this pretty little slip weeks ago but she wore it first for you. Special treatment for our special guest, huh?"ย
You open your mouth to protest but decide against it. It was true, you don't usually make such an effort with your lingerie but you also don't usually invite someone else into your bed, so you thought you'd try to look your best.ย
The process of getting here was much simpler than you imagined it would be. Bucky had done all the talking while you sat, sweating, not able to meet Joaquรญn's gaze until he moved directly in front of you. When he was reassured you wanted this for yourself and not to please your husband alone, he agreed so fast your heart skipped. You barely managed to deal with Bucky's attention, and now you had got yourself in a situation where two of the most attractive people you'd ever known were going to share you. How were you going to survive?ย
You're surviving okay so far, sat on top of Joaquรญn's lap in your new lingerie, the silk and lace floating around your waist and brushing his thighs as he carefully places the birthday tiara into your hair. Despite Bucky's constant compliments, you're still very insecure in your looks, but right now, in matching underwear with a complimentary frilly slip, and your hair still done from your party earlier in the evening, you allow yourself to believe you look good.
Maybe it has something to do with the way Joaquรญn is looking at you as he finishes fixing your crown.ย
Needing to take some of the attention off you, you ask, "Where's your party outfit gone? You look like you're going to the gym."
"Yeah Torres, why aren't you dressed up all pretty like my girl."ย
Joaquรญn lets out a loud laugh. "I'll be honest, I didn't think I'd be dressed at all for very long." His hands find your waist, squeezing slightly as he meets your eye before adding, 'It's a clean set though, showered and everything for you.'
He smells like pure soap and coconut lotion, homely, inviting. It's a small gesture of respect but it still makes your heart fill, knowing he cared enough to freshen up after the party. Your own preparations had included a pep talk from Bucky as he helped you into your outfit, along with the constant reminder that you hold all the cards and tonight is all about you.ย
Now you're here you're not sure where to start.
"You're only the second guy she's been with, be gentle."
You're not sure if Bucky's remark is helping or not, cheeks hot as Joaquรญn's eyes widen. "I forgot you were a virgin before you came here."ย
Bucky snorts. "And I forgot you two tell each other everything."
His remark goes ignored as Joaquรญn curses lowly, still stuck on the previous thought. "Imagine losing your virginity to the winter soldier. I'd last about 2 minutes."ย
"You wanna test that theory?" Bucky questions. The mood in the room changes, tension thick as your husband's attention moves to your best friend. You and Joaquรญn both look across at Bucky in shock, not expecting that response. "What? You think this is all for your benefit doll? If you think he's pretty why wouldn't I? Maybe next time I can have a turn too."ย
The thought of that has you squirming onto Joaquรญn's lap, arousal flooding through you. It doesn't go unnoticed. 'I think you'd like that, to see me fuck him?'ย
You swallow and nod, knowing better than to try and lie. Joaquรญn also looks like he's struggling with the thought, a slightly dazed look in his eyes as Bucky's attention lands on him. "Or maybe, you could be the one doing the fucking."
That final thought leaves you both a mess of hormones, clinging to each other as you process his words. You recover quicker, more used to Bucky's antics, refocusing on Joaquรญn and his flushed face. You laugh quietly. However you thought this night would go, having your husband proposition Joaquรญn in such a way did not cross your mind.ย
It has worked to relax you, whether Bucky did it on purpose or not, and, sensing your impatience, he pushes you to make a start.ย
"Kiss each other, then."
It's awkward at first, just pressing your mouths together, and you're pretty sure Joaquรญn's still got his eyes open. His hands, resting at first over your waist, slide gently underneath your slip and the warmth from his skin ignites something inside you. Suddenly you can't get close enough.
He squeaks in surprise as your teeth clash but you're not put off, your hands twisting into his hair to keep him close. A third hand finds the back of your neck, the cool metal a welcome relief to how hot you're running now, the quiet noises Joaquรญn is letting out going straight to your core. When you shift slightly and brush against his obvious arousal, your gasp doesn't go unnoticed by your husband.ย
The slight tug on your hair has a clear meaning and reluctantly you pull away.ย
"What?"
Both men laugh at your snappy tone.ย
"Careful sweetheart, or I'll stop this right now."
"Wait, I'm sorry I didn't-"
Joaquรญn's lips find yours again before reassuring you, "He's joking, cariรฑo." Since when was he able to read your husband so easily? "I think he just wants to check in."
Bucky nods, smoothing your hair. "How do you want him first?"ย
Oh, that was not something you could answer straight forwardly, no matter how turned on you were, the ribbon tie of your slip becoming very interesting as you avoid both of their eyes. Joaquรญn, after a nod from Bucky, makes the first move and pushes you gently to lay flat on your back.ย
Shifting so he's situated above you, Joaquรญn grins. "Let's get you warmed up, yeah?"
You don't have a chance to reply before his mouth is meeting yours again and his hands find their way to the fastening of your slip to help you out of it. The silky material is easily pulled off, leaving you in just your underwear, body melting underneath him as he trails kisses across your face, down your neck and across your chest.ย
Joaquรญn pushes your bra down enough to allow him to nip lightly across your breast before taking your nipple into his mouth, the jolt of heat it produces causing your hips to twitch involuntarily, seeking more.ย
Bucky is back, kneeling beside the bed at your side, pupils blown as he takes it all in. "Okay, doll?"
You answer with a shaky yes, grasping for his hand as Joaquรญn continues his journey down your body, removing your bra full and mouthing across your tummy until he reaches your knickers waistband. Meeting his gaze, you nod once, not breaking eye until he pulls the soaked material out of the way and gets his first taste.ย
If Bucky was a regular human his hand may have been crushed with how hard you're holding it, fire shooting through you as Joaquรญn proves his mouth is good for something other than rambling. His own hold on you is strong, keeping you still as you try to fight the waves of pleasure. With one of Joaquรญn's arms a heavy weight across your middle and the other holding your thigh to keep you legs open, and with Bucky beside you watching with an intensity you've not experienced before, you feel caged in in the best way it's not long before you feel the familiar flickers low in your core.ย
"M'close." You manage to whine quietly, not sure who you are telling.ย
Bucky answers. "So soon? Are you that easy, sweetheart?"ย
The fake patronising tone has you choking on your breath, brought right to the edge with a few mean words. Joaquรญn, who can feel how much you're fighting his hold in a desperate effort to be closer, doubles down on his efforts, getting an approving hum from Bucky as you cry out.ย
"Go on then beautiful, show Joaquรญn how prettily you cum."
That's all it takes for your first orgasm of the night to crash through you, being held in place by two sets of strong arms as Joaquรญn's mouth helps drag it on. The intensity of it all means you tip into over-sensitivity quickly. Bucky notices first and, after signalling for Joaquรญn to let you go, whispers soft nothings to bring you back to reality.ย
Through a half-lidded view as you catch your breath, you watch your husband turn his attention to the other man, encouraging him to sit up and settle intoย the bed between your legs. Mouth dry, you get a front row ticket to Bucky swiping his thumb across Joaquรญn's lips, collecting your leftover essence before popping it into his own mouth.ย
Joaquรญn curses lowly, not able to take his eyes off of the sight, and you know how he feels.ย
Smug at achieving his goal, Bucky asks you, "Okay, doll, what now?"ย
Again you can not answer that, but now you're warmed up you have more confidence. Struggling only slightly to get up, you push gently until Joaquรญn is sat against the pillows and you can settle easily onto his lap, pulling off his top, this position more intimate now than at the start with the lack of clothes.ย
You reach for his underwear as his hand shots out to stop you.ย
"Fuck sweetheart, if you need a minute or two-"ย
"No," You murmur, "M'good."ย
Bucky laughs from beside you. "And you're getting her on top. Lucky bastard."
"Don't be mean, Bucky," You frown. "I'm not lazy."
"Never said you were. But you do like being taken care of more often than not."ย
"Still mean."ย
"I'm mean, am I?" Bucky sits beside you on the bed, holding your face with one hand and pushing your cheeks together to make your lips pucker. "If I was mean I wouldn't be letting you fuck another man, would I?"
He shakes your head for you. "No. Good. Now, don't pout, otherwise I won't be able to wait my turn and poor Joaquรญn will just have to watch."
Joaquรญn, who had been watching mesmerised, tightens his hold on you at the idea.
As your husband moves back, Joaquรญn waves a hand in his direction as he questions, "How do you cope with him being so..."ย
"Oh, I don't. That is what makes it so great."
He leans in to press a smile filled kiss to your lips. "Never realised you were so filthy."ย
"Nuh huh," You protest, moving to tug his underwear down and glide the condom Bucky hands you down Joaquรญn's erection. "You're just jealous."
"More than you know."
You don't have time to process that statement, already sinking down on his cock, the stretch wiping all your thoughts as you freeze. You didn't think it would feel so different but it does, Joaquรญn's much softer and leaner body a sharp contrast to super soldier muscle and vibranium metal.ย
"Bucky?" You gasp, disorientated for a moment.ย
"Right here, sweetheart."
Bucky positions himself besides you, letting you lean against his chest as you close your eyes and take deep breaths. Joaquรญn's equally affected, bottom lip bitten through as he deals with the wet heat enclosing him.ย
"You're both struggling, aren't you? Fuck, that's hot."
Bucky's strong hands stroke reassuringly up your spine as he helps you get used to the different feeling.
"I'm going to stay here sweetheart. You're doing so well." Your small smile lets him know you're okay. "You want to try moving?"
You nod, looking at Joaquรญn for permission. He responds enthusiastically, helping you lift your hips slightly before dropping back down, joint whimpers pulling a low groan from Bucky.ย ย
The world narrows to the three of you. The ache in your thighs is out weighed by the burn in your core, spurring you on, desperate for that high again, this time with Joaquรญn in tow. He needs no coaching to target your clit, thumb finding the bundle of nerves at the same time Bucky taps a finger against your chin and turns your face towards him.
"Open," He commands quietly, to which you comply immediately.
Bucky spits into your mouth, but before you can swallow Joaquรญn's pulling you into the messiest, most desperate kiss yet, Bucky's saliva getting lost between you.ย
Even alone, this is something you've never done before, just another one to add to the list.ย
"Okay Joaquรญn, I'm going to let you know something about this girl." Bucky's voice is low but you and Joaquรญn are focused on him like he shouted. "The way to know you're fucking her right, is when you get her to hiccup."
As if on cue you let out a little squeaky noise, an inevitability under both of their touches.
Bucky's let out a delighted laugh. "There you go, Joaquรญn. Guess you'll be invited again."
You're too far gone to be thinking about a next time. As you try to keep kissing Joaquรญn at the same time as keeping the same rhythm, the pleasure makes you weak and your legs shake. You're getting close but it's not going to be enough alone. Bucky notices, supporting your weight and instructing Joaquรญn to lay down further into the pillows, squeezing you in warning as you squirm and try to move again.ย
"Wait." Bucky says to you, then turns to Joaquรญn. "She's close, but you're going to have to help."
The man underneath you is more than happy to do so, getting a solid hold onto your waist then thrusting up, gently at first then speeding up as you respond positively, Bucky taking over theย pressure on your clit.ย
At this angle Joaquรญn is able to hit that spot inside you that has you crumbling, your quiet mewl letting Bucky know you're really close this time.ย
He lets go of you. Joaquรญn's movements stop as he breaks your fall, making sure you're okay as you lay out on his chest, your almost orgasm fading away. Tears spring to your eyes as you look to your husband, partly betrayed but mostly so turned at being used like this.ย
Bucky presses his thumb to your lips like he did with Joaquรญn, waiting for you to open up and suck gently.ย
"If you want to cum on another man's cock he has to do all the work," He explains. "Joaquรญn's gotta show he deserves it."
You want to reply that your previous orgasm proves that but decide it's best not, for all your sakes. Your friend, sunshine and rainbows on the worst day, responds like he's been given a winning lottery ticket.
He nods to Bucky. "I can do that."ย
So quickly you get dizzy, he's sitting up and gathering you into his arms, keeping you connected to him in all ways as he lays you on your back again, kneeling carefully between your thighs.ย
Joaquรญn looks down at you, his smile so sweet you almost look away. "You good, cariรฑo?"
"Please make me cum."
Your blunt statement catches him off guard for a second before he pulls you impossibly closer and promises again, "I can do that."
It's not a gentle or slow start, now you're used to each other. All that time spent in the gym training for the falcon suit comes in handy as he rolls his hips into your, hitting all the right points. You were close before and it doesn't take much to get you back there, Joaquรญn's deadly accuracy on your clit making it hard to think.ย
You reach up to pull him into a kiss, accidentally tugging on his hair in a way that has him making a guttural noise.ย
You clench harder, desperate to hear it again. "Fuck, cariรฑo. I'm not going to last."
"Me too," You reply in a mumble.ย
"Together, yeah?"ย
He pulls back enough to catch your eyes and this time you really have to look away, all too much at once, climax hitting harder than you can ever remember. Joaquรญn doesn't miss a beat, carrying you through it again, putting you first even as you can tell he's right on the edge.ย
"You too," You coax quietly as the pleasure turns sharp.
He doesn't need any more encouragement. His thrusts splutter to a stop as a deep heat erupts inside you, his whimpers not being muffled at all as he hides his face in your shoulder. Your hand is back in his hair as you comfort each other, bodies sticking to each other as his full weight presses you into the sheets.ย
You jump when Bucky reappears by your side, momentarily forgotten in the foggy quiet. He's gentle but firm as he moves Joaquรญn off of you, the sudden emptiness causing you to whine as you watch Joaquรญn shed the condom and collapse on the end of the bed, grin wide when he catches your eye.ย
You can't help return the smile.ย
"Ah ah," Bucky cups your face to bring your attention back to him. "He's had you for long enough tonight. It's my turn now."
Sucking in a breath, you look down at Bucky's cock, already covered and ready for you. Your poor core throbs, in need or protest you're not sure.ย
"You'll give me one more, yeah, doll? After I let you have your fun with your little boyfriend."
You glance across at Joaquรญn, who looks like he may be asleep sprawled amongst the pillows, your stomach flipping at the description of him even now.
Bucky redirects your gaze once more, his own turning soft, your loving husband back to check on you. "You okay? Okay to go again?"ย
You nod. "I can't do much though."ย
He laughs kindly. "That's okay pretty girl. Let me make you feel good."ย
Pressing a series of kisses to your face and neck, Bucky makes sure you're comfortable before lining himself up and pushing in, quick, impatient, never having to wait so long before to get inside you. He falters when he feels how easy he slides in, hips falling into yours and making you gasp, Bucky letting out his own noise of surprise.
"Fuck," He pants. "You've never been so wet."
You fuss under him.ย
"But then again," He says, starting to move. "I've never fucked you after someone else has had a turn, have I?"ย
His thrusts are calculated, knowing you'll probably be overstimulated soon and wanting to get you to your peak before that point. In the familiar hold of your husband it doesn't take long to feel that burn again, but despite having Bucky all over you your head still turns in Joaquรญn's direction, craving his touch too.ย
"Joaquรญn, get over here."ย
Bucky's words shock you. Snapping your eyes back to him, you go to object, apologise maybe, but he stills inside you, shushing you with a quick kiss and whispered reassurance.
There is movement from the other side of the bed, your friend obviously not asleep.ย
"Huh?"ย
His hair, fluffy from the pillows, makes you giggle.ย
"My girl wants you and I can't say no, apparently."
"I didn't actually-"ย
"It's alright, doll. I can tell without you saying."
Joaquรญn seems shocked to be included, but soon recovers, moving to sit gingerly next to where your laid out.
Bucky starts moving again and you can't meet Joaquรญn's eye. It's somehow a hundred times more intense to be fucked in front of your best friend than by him, your ears hot as you try to suppress your moans. Feeling the bed dip, you turn to see Joaquรญn laying down with you, his breath shallow as he watches.ย
"You're so pretty, you know that right?"
You swallow, unable to reply.ย
Bucky grabs Joaquรญn's hand and guides it silently to your centre. Your husband thrusting into you as another man lays beside you pressing electrifying circles to your clit is more than enough to get you close again. It's too hot, the bedsheets beneath you feel as though they could melt from your body heat, but you want more. With a whine, you tilt your head up to Bucky, begging for a kiss, anything to ground you so you can concentrate on the feeling of his cock splitting you open.ย
He sees your desperation, once again directing Joaquรญn to your aid.ย
The second his lips touch yours you're gone. Arching off the bed with a cry, not sure who's name to say, Joaquรญn keeps kissing you as Bucky keeps up his pace, your orgasm no less in its intensity than the previous two. Just as you're coming down Bucky hits his own peak, trapping you under him as his hips slow, milking both your orgasms as you finally relax, exhausted.ย
Joaquรญn subtly moves away and it takes everything in you not to reach out and stop him, not ready to let him go but not sure if you're allowed to want that now the night is technically over.ย
The sigh your husband lets out suggests he spots your confliction.ย
"The things I do for you, huh?" He murmurs for just you to hear.ย
Pulling out with a kiss and an apology, Bucky slips a nighty over your head to give you a little more modesty, then picks you up bridal style and turns to Joaquรญn.
"Help her clean up, okay?"ย
Joaquรญn's sitting at the end of the bed, mouth half open as he tries to comprehend the request.ย
Bucky tuts. "You think you can have all the fun and not do anything to help afterwards?"ย
In his panic to get off the bed Joaquรญn gets tangled in the sheets, fall ungracefully to the carpet. Recovering in a way only an avenger could, he's by Bucky's side and accepting you into his arms in seconds.
"You trust me with her?" He says, like he can't believe he's still here.ย
"You just made her cum two times. Two and a half technically if I count your help for the last one. So yes, I can tell you'll treat her right."ย
"And can I kiss her?"ย
You freeze in his arms, shocked by the question, looking to Bucky for his reaction.ย
"I think you've done a lot worse than that-"
"No, but I mean, now that it's over?"
Bucky's eyes flit between the two of you. "If that's what she wants, then okay. It's not really my decision now."
The weight of that sentence isn't missed by either of you. Bucky steps forward to press a kiss to your forehead before pushing you both in the direction of the bathroom, Joaquรญn carefully placing you by the toilet as he starts the shower. Once you've finished and washed your hand, he swaps your nighty and birthday tiara for your shower cap with a quiet 'cute' then pulls you into the warm water and starts to clean you, ever so gentle on your still sensitive skin.
The quiet affective is too much for you, leaving you to think over his last words to Bucky.ย
"Are you going to kiss me?" You blurt out when it becomes too much.ย
Joaquรญn laughs quietly, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. You pretend you don't chase his lips when he retreats and goes back to grab your shower gel, knowing which of your products to use on each body part.ย
"You're suspiciously good at this. Do you have a secret girlfriend I don't know about?"
He laughs again. "You know you'd be the first to know. Maybe I actually pay attention when you buy things, hmm?"ย
"Well, you're still good. You should find a girlfriend. If you treated her anything like you have me she'd be so lucky. And you. I want you to be happy too."
Joaquรญn stares into the distance for a second, the quiet stretching around you as the shower continues to fall.ย
"I thought it might be you, years ago." He admits eventually.ย
Your stomach drops. You would have never expected that answer. Joaquรญn sees how devastated you look and is quick to pick your chin up, giving you a proper kiss this time, resting his forehead against yours as your eyes get watery.ย
"Hey. I'm alright, aren't I? I knew you and Bucky would be a thing as soon as you met, it's no biggie."
Your throat feels tight, you don't trust yourself to say anything, just nodding as Joaquรญn finishes up your shower routine, guiding you into a towel and then grabbing your moisturiser.ย
You should probably do this bit yourself, it felt too much to let Joaquรญn touch you entire body again now but you can't say no so you just close your eyes and try not to think how much you want this again. He disappears into the walk-in wardrobe, reappearing with your favourite pyjamas to dress you in, the soft pastel cotton a stark contrast to the lace number you started this event in. Joaquรญn's still just in a towel, and it's your turn to choose an outfit for him from your husband's selection, the top far too big for him and making you smile for the first time in a while.
There's a pause as you wonder what happens now. He hesitates too, which forces you to make the decision, catching him by the hand and pulling him back to the bedroom.ย
It's apparent Bucky has also showered and dressed for bed in another bathroom, as well as changing the sheets. The lighting has been dimmed, but not enough to hide your awkwardness, shifting your weight from foot to foot as you build up your confidence.ย
Bucky sees you hovering with Joaquรญn just behind you and sighs for the nth time tonight.
"What do you want doll?"ย
"Can he stay?" You burst out.ย
Joaquรญn steps forward to take some of the heat off you, Bucky's blank stare still intimidating to him.ย
He falters the longer Bucky doesn't answer. "I can go if you-"ย
"Shut up Torres, you're staying. You think you can deny the birthday girl?"ย
Your shoulders relax, relieved. Bucky beckons you forward, laying down on one side of the bed and pulling you into his arms, the large yawn you let out an indication of the events of the evening catching up with you.ย
Joaquรญn slumps down behind you, his warmth reassuring against your back as you twist your fingers through his, your other hand resting over Bucky's heart.
"Happy, beautiful?" He asks.ย
You nod, too tired to speak, content to fall asleep held safely by the two men who mean the absolute world to you.
Summary:ย No one expected you to understand fae customs just yetโmuch less Illyrian customs. So maybe Azriel should have made his intentions a little more obvious. He began to understand that mistake as you began to pull away.ย
Word count:ย 3k
Warnings:ย Biggest miscommunication trope lol, angst, pining!, idiots in love, Archeron!Reader but really only that she was human and now fae
a/n:ย I can't believe I actually wrote something finally lol thank you for reading if you're heree <3 This is such a fun trope to read I love it please enjoyyy! (part 2 coming)
Read part two here!
Main Masterlist โก
~~
You slumped back into your seat, arms crossed over your stomach in a show of frustration you would rather hide. Sometimes, it was easy to pretend you werenโt falling in love with Azriel in a pathetic way. Today was not one of those days.ย
The Shadowsinger had his head tipped back in a laugh, cheeks tinged a subtle pink as Mor recounted something you couldnโt hear. Well, you could, your new fae ears tuned to every sound, but youโd learned how to block out what you didnโt want. Sound had been the most disorienting sense after youโd been Made, but Azriel had done well in teaching you to hone it.ย
You wished he had taught you how to tamp down your emotions as well; immortality in the face of longing and jealousy was looking bleak.ย
Clutching your wine glass in twitching fingers, you directed your attention to Feyre and the babbling Illyrian babe in her lap. Things always seemed so effortless for her in this world, but that wasnโt true, and you knew it. Still, you found yourself envying her mateship and the ease with which love found her. It may have been a journey, but Rhys was clear with his intentions, and the mating bond cemented that.ย
Even Nesta, harsh and unrelenting as she was, had a sure bond that she could rely on. And then there was Elain, finding her way with Lucien in minute acts that all meant something to both of them. You had tried to chalk your feelings for Azriel up to jealousy or seeking a partner in a paired-up family, but those were surface-level excuses. The way your heart raced in his presence, the spark that lit up your skin each time you touchedโthose were not symptoms of pure loneliness.ย
But you were sure he would think it was desperation if you pursued him. He was the only single male out of the fae you knew, and you knew so few people in this world. If you started professing your love for him, waxing poetic about the simple way he smiled, you knew the pitying look of rejection would come soon after. He would wince slightly and run his hand along the side of your head as he so often did, and then he would say that he didnโt see you that way. That you were new and unexciting and a responsibility above all elseโhis High Ladyโs sister that needed help adjusting to life as fae.ย
He hadnโt exactly shown interest in you. He had been kind and attentive and bordering on adoring, but that was just how he treated his family. Youโd seen it. You were not going to be the pathetic little thing chasing after him in the wake of a war. Things were at peace now, and he didnโt need to be bogged down with the toll of rejecting you.ย
Still, you sighed as you watched him enjoy his night. You bit the inside of your cheek and choked down another glass of the fae wine you could barely stomach. Your sisters asked you questions about your training with Madja, and you answered them, allowing the ring on your pinky to dig into the skin of your palm. When Azriel had given it to you, sliding it onto your smallest finger, you had been elated, feeling light and dizzy with affection. You felt foolish wearing it now.ย
You couldnโt take it off. Azriel seemed to look for it whenever he saw you, eyes going from your face to your hands as if on instinct. He would touch it sometimesโwhen he flew you over the city or took things from your hands to carry instead. You would feel his thumb brush the metal embossed with twines of azure stone and think something was there, but then he would offer you a polite smile and simply walk beside you. He would blush and laugh with Mor, but he would only smile with you.ย
Pity. It was pity, surely.ย
You had clung to him for weeks after being Made. Something about him brought you comfort in a newly abrasive world, so he allowed you to follow him around and you accepted his touches with greed. It had all been ordered. Rhys had surely ordered his Spymaster to ensure his mateโs sister was properly cared for, but you hadnโt been thinking about the implications at the time, pathetically seeking him out under the pretense of a genuine connection. And sure, Azriel was not cruel. He thought of you as family and cared for you as such. But your feelings were yours alone.ย
โShall I take you back? Or would you like to sleep here?โย
You startled at the sound of his voice, Azriel suddenly at the back of your chair. The room had dimmed in conversation, with Rhys and Feyre gone to put Nyx to bed and Mor only muttering short sentences in low tones that had Cassian nodding in agreement. Elain had all but vanished from the table, and Nesta was facing the fire to capture its warmth. You had missed the shift as your thoughts ran rampant.ย
Your chair creaked as Azriel leaned against it, mouth closer to your ear. โAre you alright?โย
You blinked and tilted your head slightly to show you were attentive to his words. โIโm fine. Just tired.โย
Azriel hummed. โSo would you like to stay?โย
Staying at the Riverhouse would mean distance from Azriel. And you could walk to the clinic in the morning rather than depending on him to fly you down. That was good.ย
โYes. That would be best.โย
โIโll walk you back then.โย
He always walked you to your roomโall the way there. He never came in, always content to stop at the door, but he never did anything less. Even now, when he would leave for his own room at the House miles away, he was offering to take you down the hall. It was too much. Youโd become too much.ย
โThatโs okay,โ you breathed out, finally turning your head to look at him. Your faces were only inches apart, and you had to catch your breath at the closeness. โIโll find my way.โย
Something unusual flashed across his expression, quickly righted with a soft smile. โI wouldnโt mind.โย
โItโs just down the hall, Azriel. I doubt Iโll get lost.โย
He blinked, looking between your eyes before clearing his throat slightly and standing straight. You used the opportunity to push out from the table, trying to ignore his guiding hands. โRight, of course,โ he nodded. He looked lost for a moment, standing before you. His wings twitched as you looked over his shoulder to the joining hall. โIโllโgoodnight, then. Sleep well.โย
โGoodnight, Azriel.โย
~~
Distancing yourself from Azriel after your dinner revelation was not an easy task. You hadnโt realized how much youโd intertwined your life with his, and the realization was enough to make you cringe. He was a whole person with a life before you, and now you were reliant on him for so many things.ย
So, you tried to make your own way. You stopped asking to stay at the House so you could walk wherever you needed. You asked passersby for directions instead of waiting for Azriel to tell you where shops and restaurants were located. You even tried making friends, talking more with the patrons of the clinic toโฆ be more independentโseparate, even, from Azriel and your newly grown family.ย
You figured he would appreciate the effort. He was probably so tired of guiding you everywhere, of keeping polite smiles on his face as you droned on about your new life and let him fly you around Velaris. And he probably loved that he finally got his overcoat back. He had let you borrow it several weeks ago, placing the Illyrian-forged threads over your shoulders when you asked him to go flying in the middle of the night.ย
He had told you how much it meant to him that night as he buttoned it up to your neck. His mother had hand-woven it when he came of age, he had told you, and he had saved it ever since. You might not have understood why a coat was of so much importance, but you understood that you were hogging it. That he had let you borrow it on a cold night, and then you had practically commandeered his prize possession. He always insisted you wear it when he would fly you around, but he was just being polite.ย
The thought grated on you.ย
โWhat?โ Azriel asked, mouth slightly agape as you gently placed the coat in his stiff hands.ย
โIโThank you for letting me borrow it for so long. I should have returned it ages ago. I was being greedy with it,โ you tried to joke, pressing it further into his grasp.ย
Azriel remained frozen. His eyes flicked down to the material now in his hands and then back up to you. โI donโtโI donโt think I understand. You donโt like it?โย
A flash of confusion struck you, but maybe he assumed you werenโt going to give it back? โWhat? No, Azriel, itโs a wonderful coat. Honestly, the softest, warmest thing Iโve ever put on. I justโฆ I know itโs important to you. Iโll wear my own when I need you to take me somewhere. Although I think Iโve been doing well getting around by myself. Iโve been trying to learn Velarisโ layout, and I think I almost got it.โย
Azriel finally moved, curling the coat closer to his chest. He wet his lips before shooting his gaze down to your hands. Finding some semblance of an answer there, he nodded once, mostly to himself. โIโve noticed that. Have you enjoyed exploring the city?โย
No. You enjoyed exploring it with him. โYes, very much. The people of Velaris are very helpful with directions.โย
Azriel hummed, rubbing his fingers along the sleeve of the coat. โIโm glad youโre enjoying yourself. Iโll look forward to you enjoying flying again, though.โย
โYes, well, I never stopped enjoying that. Iโll try to space it out more, thoughโmaybe get Cassian or Rhys to lug me around every once in a while.โย
โWhy?โย
An unmistakable inflection of hurt trailed in his tone. Wonderful, now you were offending him. โOh! Well, just to take some of that off of you. I know youโre very busy, and Iโve needed a lot of help for a long while.โย
โTakeโฆwhat off of me?โ he asked, words slow and lingering.ย
โUm, the responsibility? Again, I know how busy you are. And I know itโs taken me a while to adjust, but I think I've got it now. At least, Iโve got it more than I used to,โ you tried joking again, a dry laugh rocking you back on your heels.ย
โResponsibility,โ Azriel repeated.
โRight,โ you affirmed. โNow you can spend more time on other things.โย
โSuch as?โย
You clicked your tongue, glancing up at the ceiling as if there were answers there. โI donโt know. What did you do before I was around?โย
Azrielโs brows came together. He shook his head slightly as if you were partially insane. โI donโt thinkโฆ I didnโt think you wanted to talk about that yet.โย
Maybe you were partially insane. You thought you were having one conversation, but it seemed Azriel was having another. What did that mean? Maybe his life was far easier before you started forcing him into tasks and stealing his clothes? And you werenโt ready just yet to hear that? He really thought you were unstable then.ย
You laughed, despite that thought, brushing a hand through the air casually. โCome on, Az. You obviously had a life before me. Multiple lives, if we go on human terms. Iโm sure you had several hobbies that didnโt include taking me places.โย
And now he looked uncomfortable. Azriel folded his coat onto his arm, and his mouth twisted before he let out a sigh. โThere were pleasure houses, obviously. A few relationships, although they do not seem important in the slightest now.โย
You choked on air, clearing your throat as Azriel itched his jaw and looked up at the ceiling himself. Nothing was up there, but both of you were sure looking. โOh,โ you squeaked out.ย
โThe relationships are in the distant past. Theโwell, the casual things are more recent, though nothing after I met you, obviously.โย
Your mind was doing flips, bashing jarringly against your skull as Azriel looked at you with an almost concerned discomfort. When you said hobbies, you thought he would share that he used to train more or had a secret joy for puzzles. You had not expected a brief overview of his sexual partners, but Azriel looked about ready to give you a list if you asked. To dive deeper into the topic you were about to melt into a puddle over.ย
This was what you were really holding him back from, then.ย
He wanted to go to pleasure houses, but you were taking up all of that time.ย
When you remained silent, Azriel shifted his weight between his feet. โI know things were different for you. You were human. Iโve learned of the demands and expectations of human women, so thatโs why weโve been going sloโโย
Your ears were ringing as he spoke. You clutched your hands together and interrupted him. โRight, yes, different for humans. And not alive as long, obviously. Less time for hobbies.โย
โI donโt mind. I donโt care about that,โ he offered slowly. You werenโt even sure what he was talking about. Another beat of silence, and then, in the most usure voice you had heard from him, Azriel asked, โIs that okay?โย
Was it okay for him to go back to pleasure houses? To seek out intimacy? Who were you to decide that for him?
โOf course,โ you blinked, raising a hand to your forehead. โIโmโIโm going to go rest, I think. Long day.โย
โAlright,โ Azriel simply replied, left standing in the hall.ย
~~
You missed him, which was terribly awful in the worst ways.ย
Not only had he made it abundantly clear that he was setting his sights on other women, but he was being extra nice now, probably fearing for the worst now that you were aware he was going to be spending his newfound timeโฆ doing other things.
He asked you to accompany him to dinner every night this week. You turned him down each time, but he still asked, a casual hope ringing in his words. He arrived at the Riverhouse every morning, ready to walk you to the clinic even though you assured him you were okay to go alone. He didnโt bring his coat back, but he grabbed your own from the closet by the door and had it open for you on each of those mornings.ย
And his wings were doing strange things. When you would come to the door, he would spread them just a few inches wider, seeking your eyes as they roved over the exposed veins. He opened them behind you as you walked, almost ushering you closer to him on the streets of Velaris. They seemed to ruffle when he sat beside you at dinner, in the sitting room, when he caught you reading and joined you on the couch. It was almost imperceptible, but the sound was becoming soothing, and that was dangerous.ย
You were reading too much into things, acting crazy again, and so, you distanced yourself more when you started to notice the patterns. And then you missed him because of it.ย
He noticed. You were sure he noticed. You could only turn him down so many times before he began to question the change.ย
โHave I done something wrong?โ he asked after two weeks of your eyes flitting away from him.ย
โWhat? Of course not.โย
โYouโre avoiding me.โย
โIโm not.โย
Azriel took you by surprise then, kneeling by the chair you were nestled into. โYou are. Tell me what I did.โย
Such a picture of devotion made you squirm. You unraveled your legs from under you and sat eye-level with the Shadowsingerโs form. โNothing, Az. Remember, I told you I was trying to be more self-sufficient. Give you more time back.โ
โIs this because of our conversation a few weeks ago? Because I only told you because itโs important to understand my history as myโโย
You quickly shook your head, not wanting another recount of his love life. Not when you werenโt part of it. โNothing like that, I swear.โย
Cassian chose that moment to enter the small library, a decision that was both your downfall and eventual salvation, as time would reveal.ย
โNothing,โ you quipped, feeling Azrielโs eyes still glued to your face as it heated and turned to Cassian. โWhat are you doing here? Feyre said you were at the camps until next week.โย
โYeah, well, got sick of the camps,โ he replied, brow raised when Azriel reluctantly rose from the ground and stiffly turned.ย
โGlad youโre back then.โย
โThanks for the warm welcome, sweetheart.โ Cassian kicked back into a far chair, the air still heavy. โAnyone have plans tonight? I feel like going out.โย
Azriel cleared his throat, fingers flexing with shadows that twined between them. โI believe Mor is going to Ritaโs. But I haveโฆ business tonight.โย
โBusiness, huh?โ Cassian smirked, flicking his gaze over to you in a quick motion.ย
โCassian,โ Azriel warned, but it was too late. Something ugly and hot gripped your throat, making it impossible to swallow.
This was it. This was what you wanted. He was finally free from you, and his words tonight were only a semblance of guilt for leaving you when you asked him to. But it wasnโt fair to hold him in your grasp when he didnโt want to be there. When you were a duty to him.ย
He needed to know that it was okay to move on from the responsibility of you, so you steeled yourself and swallowed down the searing pain in your chest that felt like it was yanking at you when you were resolute in your next words.ย
ย โSorry, Cass, Iโm not free either. Iโm going on a date.โ
As much as I absolutely hate miscommunication tropes, something hits different with one person thinking they were dating the whole time and the other having no idea ๐ this was phenomenal!!!!
Nobody knows about the contract you signed to be your bossโs sub until Spencer finds the document. Aaron proposes a deal in exchange for his silence.
Category: Smut (18+)
Word count: 4.8k
Content: threesome, sub/dom dynamic, female and male oral, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, creampie(s)
a/n: kinktober in may because itโs @lavenderspence birthday who helped me brainstorm this fic months ago but hey itโs never too late so here is the long awaited fic that iโm dedicating to the birthday girl. ily<333
The wordless creed of submission was a scripture you could never decipher.
That is, until you met Aaron Hotchner. Five years of sterile professionalism, save for one fateful night with too high adrenaline and a sex drive you hadnโt even known you possessed. Heโs disturbingly good at coaxing it too (pinning you against his office door, bending you over his desk, binding your wrists to the headrest in the back of his car), and soon a new normal of three sexy times a week for two breathless months doesnโt seem quite enough.
Surprising, for someone too independent to ever trust a man so completely. But twenty-four-seven isnโt ideal, was what heโd pointed out with a wry little smile when he realized there was no sign of jest as you offered โ no, begged โ to be cinched to his hip every single day. Tempting, but some ground rules still had to be laid down.
Thatโs when the negotiation starts.
Night after night you find yourselves talking, and suddenly your vocabulary is filled with terms youโd never imagined discussing outside bureau protocol. Hard limits and soft boundaries. Carefully planned visits. He even tested a few daring suggestions youโd never imagined yourself fantasizing about, intriguing you as much as they embarrass you.
Although mortification isnโt the problem. Youโre a born profiler with an inconvenient instinct to study every new stimulus; curiosity is your ruin, so to speak. If shame were meant to deter you, it shouldโve chosen a less enticing disguise.
Granted, youโre not exactly surprised when you slip into Aaronโs motel room and spot another presence waiting. You find Spencer like that, standing warily at the foot of the bed, looking strangely out of place despite the fact your knees had brushed in the SUV only an hour ago.
But your heart does a little somersault. A silly patter that spreads through your chest with the dizzy certainty that an idea youโve only read in ink is about to be written in flesh.
The clause was tucked near the end of the contract โ โthe introduction of a third participant at the discretion of the primary.โ Youโd half-skimmed those last few pages, disbelief blurring the words when you couldnโt quite fathom that your fantasies had been printed and bound like actual paperwork.
Itโs one thing to discuss it verbally, another thing entirely to see it embodied in your hands like an actual scripture.
โI just want you to feel safe,โ Aaron had said, which struck you as almost redundant. You already felt safe without having these stipulations spelled out in twelve-point font. Still, you picked up the pen, humored his need for formalities, and wrote your name in deliberate strokes.
And with Spencer hovering a few unsure steps from the bed tonight, that small flourish of ink seems to glow on the page in your memory.
โYouโre late,โ Aaron greets from the other side of the room, and closes the space between you in three easy strides.
โEmily cornered me in the hallway," you say, meeting him halfway for a kiss before nudging back, a wry smile on your lips. โSo Iโm guessing he knows about us?โ
His gaze flicks to Spencer before settling back on you. โHe found our contract.โ
Your brows curve into a frown. โYou meanโฆ he found the thing just lying around?โ
โNot exactly." He gives a curt shake of his head. "It was on my desk. Didnโt think heโd come in without knocking.โ
"Aaron."
โIt was an oversight," he tries to defend himself. He spares you the detail that Spencer apparently read enough to memorize every clause and condition. Youโre already eyeing him dubiously.
โAnd why is he here now?โ
The same logic that led Aaron to keeping him here.
โFor his silence.โ
"Youโre blackmailing him?โ
The corner of his mouth tilts up. โOf course not. Iโd call it leveraging a situation for mutual understanding."
โThat is the prettiest way Iโve ever heard someone describe blackmail.โ
A soft shuffle of shoes answers you from behind.
โIt isnโt blackmail,โ Spencer interjects. โHe didnโt force me into anything. I wanted to understand what was going on andโโ He falters at the subtle, expectant tilt of Aaronโs head, then clears his throat and finishes, โโand now I do.โ
Aaronโs hand finds its way to your waist. โAre you okay with this?โ
Are you?
You donโt answer immediately. It isnโt indecision that holds your tongue to the roof of your mouth, rather the slow crawl of anticipation that coils low in your belly. Skittering around your hips.
Oddly enough, the prospect doesnโt rattle you the way it once did when you first traced those lines in the contract. Youโd just never thought the day would actually arrive, and certainly not today, with Spencer, of all people.
You can almost hear the flutter of his pulse from here, see the quiet calculations ticking behind lowered lashes as he tries to stand perfectly still. Heโs cinched into his cardigan that's smoothed flat over narrow shoulders, and youโd be lying if you claimed youโd never wondered what hid beneath all those layers of neatly pressed wool.
Pure curiosity, you reason. Curiosity fed by the sparks youโve caught in his eyes when he thought you werenโt looking. A sweep of hazel that dips down your neckline, or by the restless twitch of his fingers whenever your perfume drifts too close. And youโve idly speculated, maybe more than once, whether those fidgeting hands would feel rough on your skin or as soft as the flush rising in his cheeks.
You let the quiet stretch for one more heartbeat, watching his gaze snag on the top of your blouse before darting back up.
Heat coils languid and sweet inside you.
โYeah,โ you breathe. โIโm okay. I think.โ
โNeed you to be sure, sweetheart.โ
โIโm okay,โ you repeat, trying to smooth out your voice. Maybe saying it once more will solidify your confidence. โIโm really okay.โ
Aaronโs palm tightens at your waist. โColor?โ
It takes you a while to understand what he means, but when you do, you feel the answer rise with the next breath you take.
โGreen.โ
โGood, if at any point it changes, you tell me.โ
You give him a slight dip of your head.
"Reid, come here."
Spencer obeys before he seems aware heโs moving. One cautious step, then another, until you can feel the anxious energy rippling off him. Heโs close enough now that the crease of your knee nearly grazes the front of his slacks. Close enough you can catch the soft quiver in his limbs.
Your own chest tightens at the sheer proximity, but whatever butterflies flit through you arenโt half as fierce as the ones etched across his tense shoulders and downturned gaze.
โSpence, itโs okay, you can touch me," you offer.
He curls his fingers into fists, chords of tendon shifting under skin gone too pale.
Heโs overthinking, of course. Mental gears grinding loud enough to drown out his own pulse. Itโs his nature to second-guess and dissect unfamiliar situations from every angle. He did it when he first spotted the contract on Aaronโs desk, when Aaron quietly invited him here, even when he agreed to come of his own free will. But standing in front of you knots those gears tighter.
Enumerate risks, assign probability, choose the safest option.
The safest option, though, he realizes, is the most dangerous one.
But the real danger isnโt the touch itself. Itโs how a single brush of fingertips will shatter his neatly ordered rules.
Consent redraws the margins while he continues to study. You give him an expectant look, Aaron seals it with a nod, and suddenly the universe has shrunk to three conspirators orbiting a single point of contact.
So he closes the last inch between you. Pulls in the same measured breath heโs perfected on the firing line. One, two, three โ on four his fingertips drift forward, brushing the sleeve of your blouse. The cotton vibrates under his knuckles, yet even through the fabric he can feel the pliant warmth of your skin. He coaxes higher along your arm, sliding past the cuff and onto the bare flesh of your shoulder.
Youโre warmer here, silken, and the softness doubles when his hand cups the delicate column of your neck, thumb resting in the hollow below your jaw. Softest of all, though, is the sight that meets him when he finally lifts his gaze. Plump, glossy petals of dewy lips.
Gone is every ounce of hesitation.
He steel himself for the question hanging on his lips.
โCan I kiss you?โ
Useless, of course, when youโre already leaning in.
So he does, carrying the bite of burnt motel coffee and a trace of whatever dessert he demolished tonight. You also catch the tang of his nerves on your tongue. Heโs a jumble of sensations โ confused, curious, ravenous, and that ripple of hunger makes itself known as he nudges his cock against your hip. The pressure loosens your knees, and just as you begin to sync with the eager pull of his mouth, another hard pressure claims the space behind.
Aaronโs obvious bulge slots perfectly between your ass, as well as the way his mouth latches along the spot where your pulse flutters the most.
Itโs nearly impossible to keep your heartbeat steady when attention comes in perfect pairs.
Two mouths tracing heat.
Two cocks hemming you in.
Two sets of hands shaping your body โ a pair cupping your breasts firmly, another holding your hip while the last hand dips over the fabric covering your mound.
It takes a drowsy, blinking inhale before you realize itโs Spencer coaxing pleasure through the damp cloth. A new type of pleasure that comes with new territory as his fingers slide in patient circles, translating curiosity into confidence with every slow stroke. Itโs a novel kind of surrender that eclipses the rules you thought you understood with Aaron alone.
This is a submission refracted through two different types of needs. Circumstances might look like youโre completely helpless with two men manhandling you, but somehow you've never felt more powerful.
And that power consumes you, bleeding warmth into your skin until it feels like youโre burning from the inside out. Flooding every nerve, soaking through your pores until even the hum of the air conditioner feels weak against the sweat beading at the small of your back.
Aaron feels the tremor beneath his palm.
โToo hot?โ
You manage a weak nod. โMhm.โ
He quickly moves to remedy it. He wonโt have his sweet girl suffering for even a second longer than necessary. His fingers skim down your blouse, carefully slipping buttons through holes before Spencerโs eager hands join him โ unhooking, unbuttoning, and sliding the rest of your clothes off until thereโs nothing left between you and the open air.
Your lungs finally fill without the last scrap of fabric, though each inhale stays shallow. The stark contrast between your bare skin and the layers of their tailored shirts and pressed slacks only sharpens the ache gathering low in your belly. Youโre so wound up that a slow, insistent throb of liquid seeps between the snug folds of your cunt.
Aaron is quick to notice, too. Heโs already attuned to your body by now, the way gooseflesh ripples up your thighs the moment you try to squeeze them together for relief. Before youโve even fully registered it, his arm loops around your waist, guiding you a step back toward the bed.
In one smooth pull youโre lifted, settled astride his lap. โI think we should show him how wet you are.โ
You lean back, heart hammering in your chest.
In another life, shame would color your cheeks, but in this one, youโre too keenly aware of your own arousal as his hands hook under your thighs, spreading your legs apart.
Spencer falls to his knees. And wets his bottom lip, eyes fixed on the sheen glistening between your legs โ pretty and glossy without a single touch from either of them, and he wonders how much more of a mess he can make of you. That thought sends two fingers pressing against the swollen outer lips, gently stretching them for a better view of your anatomy as he breathes in your musky scent.
God, you smell delicious.
He bets you taste just as good too.
As if drown to a magnetic pull, he leans in and lets the tip of his tongue flick against the tender spot of your clit.
Youโre not sure if the gasp that escapes your lips is louder than the rush of blood pounding in your ears. Spencer hears it, feels it, and takes it as permission. He lingers, gently at first, tracing delicate circles that coax your clit into a throbbing fullness until the once shy nub swells under the next pass of his tongue.
The hammering behind your eyes barrels down your veins, skimming collarbones and ribcage, rushing through your gut before pooling right where his mouth is working. Broad laps that drag from your slick entrance to the tip. Sucks a plush fold of your labia into his mouth, testing delicate skin with gentle tugs.
Your next exhale comes out as a moan, and Aaron marvels at the sound. โFeels good?โ
Good is an anemic word โ barely a quarter of whatโs sluicing through you when Spencer curls his tongue inside your tight walls. Pleasure radiates in hot pulses, and language dissolves on your tongue as your head lolls helplessly against Aaronโs shoulder.
He tries to press you again. Hooks a finger beneath your jaw to tilt your chin up, leaving a ghost of space that tempts you to close your mouth around him. He pulls away when you lean in.
โGood, sweetheart?โ
He clearly wants an answer. So you give him one โ stretch your voice into the space heโs carved for you.
โSโgood.โ
โYeah?โ
Your hips stutter into Spencerโs mouth. โYesโyes. Good.โ
You're finally rewarded with a kiss and a groan between your legs.
Shame really has nothing on you. Your body is on fire, and the only thing that matters is the taste of his lips plastered against yours while Spencerโs mouth devours you in greedy lungfuls. Drags his tongue slow and heavy across the entire span of your cunt as the faint rasp of his jaw scrapes against your inner thighs.
Youโre hardly surprised by how your orgasm coils fast. Starts as a scatter of static in your toes, slithers up your calves and welds the muscles of your thighs as Spencerโs mouth seals around you, lips locking, tongue pressing. Instinct has your legs snapping shut around his head, but a low disapproving sound from Aaron vibrates on your mouth, cuts through your blinding haze.
โNo, noโspread them open,โ he tuts, prying your legs wider. โLet him take care of you.โ
You can only whine in response.
Your thoughts knot and unravel in the same breath, slipping through your grasp the moment they begin to form. Words dissolve. Time warps. You're reduced to pure reaction โ tiny, involuntary gasps that stutter out between parted lips. You can't keep still. Can't breathe deep. Every inhale shudders. Heat blooms at the base of your skull, racing along nerve paths until your toes curl in suspended air.
Then it hits again. But his mouth doesnโt stop the mess he's made of you. Slick glistens down his chin, streaking into the shallow hollows of his cheeks, pooling in the groove where his jaw meets his neck. He tilts his head, adjusting just enough to keep you pinned with legs spread wide and twitching as he slurps you up with intense hunger.
A keening cry rips free before you can swallow it.
Aaron notices it. Sees the way you nearly go cross-eyed towards the ceiling, jaw unhinged and mouth dangling loose.
โReid,โ he warns.
Spencer barely blinks.
โReid.โ
His voice continues to fall on deaf ears.
โReid.โ
It isnโt until Aaron firmly pushes his head away that Spencer finally snaps out of it. His eyes dart up to meet Aaronโs, then to you, chest rising and falling as though suddenly realizing the state heโs left you in.
โOhโIโm sorry,โ thereโs an edge of guilt in his voice. His gaze drops back to your swollen clit, overly sensitive from his relentless attention, and moves in to press a soft, almost apologetic kiss to it. โIโm sorry.โ
Your hips jerk at the contact.
Aaron rests a hand over your thigh, โLetโs give her a minute.โ
You finally manage to clamp your mouth shut.
It does seem wise to wait until your heartbeat evens out, let your pulse crawl back down from its wild pitch. Yet the space they leave empty aches just as sharply. All you can feel is emptiness and the gnawing urge to be filled, so you shift in Aaronโs lap, sliding forward until your hips brush the sharply pressed crease of his slacks.
โIโm fine,โ you blurt out. โI can keep going.โ
Aaronโs palm spans your stomach. โI donโt want to push you too far.โ
โYou're not,โ you insist, and with desperation digging its claws way too deep in your chest, you add, โPlease?"
His lips curl into a knowing smile. You're practically bleating, and heโs absolutely smitten. "You're begging already."
You are, and you'd gladly do it again. Say it sweeter, say it filthier. Youโve learned to like begging, learned how easy it sits on your tongue when it earns you that look.
"Need you, Aaron."
He looks absolutely pleased.
โYou need me?" His gaze slips towards Spencer, still crouched between your thighs, wetting his lips. "Or do you need him?โ
Your mouth opens before you can thinkโ
โNeed you both.โ
Which, after years spent of working alongside them, is something you never expected to admit.
But the honesty on your tongue tastes absolutely sweet.
Everything then unravels in a blur of impatient hands. Buttons pop, zippers slip, fabric rustles to the floor in a blur of motion youโll replay later but canโt quite track now. Your own senses tunnel to the snap of Spencerโs belt, the soft thud of Aaronโs shoes hitting carpet, the sigh of crisp cotton sliding from skin.
By the time the last scrap of fabric has hit the floor, youโre stretched on your side atop the cool sheets with Aaronโs solid heat pressed along your back. He braces your leg up, while the blunt crown of his cock teases the slick seam of your cunt. Youโre already dripping, so incredibly wet that one firm push has the soft flesh of your hole bulging around his girth when he sinks all the way.
It doesnโt dull the shock of intrusion, though. Aaron is all all weight and pulsing veins, and no matter how many times heโs fucked you senseless, you never quite get used to how he stretches you open. The burn hits sharp, then dissolves into a syrupy ache you drink down willingly.
You also swallow around the thick head of Spencerโs cock pressing to your mouth, feeling the bitter tang dissolve on your tongue as he pauses to gauge your reaction. Your first instinct is disbelief. It boggles your mind how someone built so lanky and lithe can carry such surprising weight, but instead you let a tiny, encouraging nod.
It's all it takes for him to nudge forward.
He lets out a tiny gasp, hips stuttering as your warmth envelopes the only part your mouth can comfortably take. A shiver races through his frame, and before he can stop himself, one hand threads into your hair with a desperate grip. Heโs trying so hard to be gentle, but his pelvis gives a needy push.
You choke around the force punching your throat.
Aaron immediately slows his own rhythm behind you. โReid, control yourself,โ he warns. โWonโt have you hurting her.โ
You pull back just enough to steal a breath.
โNoโโ You swallow, eyes darting up to meet Spencerโs wide, worried gaze. โItโs okay. Do it again.โ
โYou donโt have toโโ
โI like it,โ you manage, and Aaronโs brows lift slightly. Heโs never taken you too roughly. Binding you with his tie is an exercise in restraint, a blindfold a test of trust, and when it comes to edging, his patience is almost cruel in its tenderness. He likes to think his dominance is a careful thing.
But clearly he underestimated you. Especially when you lift your gaze to Spencer with glassy, luminous eyes.
โYou can use my mouth,โ you say softly, a little bashfully. โI want you to.โ
The confession snaps something loose in Aaron. He grunts, hikes your leg higher and plunges into you with reckless speed. โYou shouldโve told me sooner,โ he grits out. โDidnโt know you liked it so rough.โ
Your clammy back slides against his chest every time he drives into you. โI-I did, youโre just a big softie.โ
He gives you another grunt against your bare shoulder while Spencer tries to catch your attention again, brushing a damp strand of hair clinging to your cheek.
โAre you sure?โ
You donโt think youโve ever been this certain.
Confidence has never felt so visceral when you know what you want, and the idea someone as awkward as Spencer surrendering to hunger enough to use your mouth only slicks you further around Aaronโs cock.
So you tilt your head back shamelessly, tongue slipping out in a languid sweep over your lower lip.
And how can he possibly resist?
He wraps his hand around the back of your skull, palm splayed wide and fingers tangling in your hair as he thrusts forward. Sets a smooth languid pace, slow enough you can feel every rigid vein drag across your tongue. Most times he glides in with practiced care, more often than not, the bulbous tip of his cock bumps up against discomfort that lingers just the shy of pain.
Tears prick your lashes, a throbbing ache begins to set in your jaw, but you force your muscles to relax. Concentrate on the rush of air through your nose.
Inhale, exhale.
Gag.
Swallow.
Soft wiry curls brush the sensitive curve of your nose with each thrust as you continue to let him mold your throat into his own perfect fit. He fills your mouth with the same certainty Aaron fills your cunt, so that no inch of you remains untouched.
Youโre a mess of body fluids. Spit runs from the corners of your mouth, sweat paints your bruising skin. But itโs your pussy that bears the most, swollen and slick beyond reason, youโre so thoroughly fucked that every plunge punches a shameless squelch into the air. Bounces off the faded wallpaper and the brittle plaster of an old building that has seen better days. Decades, even.
This place couldnโt be further from luxury. Itโs a simple nondescript motel on the edge of this town thatโs only available where the stench of cheap detergent and stale air barely masks the lingering scent of old cigarettes. Though the sagging mattress is more than enough to cradle you between two bodies in a sweaty, desperate mess.
And desperation thickens the air, thick as summer humidity. Aaronโs thrusts grow sloppy, grip bruising your skin as he pants against your ear, โNot gonna last long, sweetheart.โ
You donโt think youโre going to last any longer either. Not when the sheer force of his pace makes it impossible to focus on anything else. Itโs becoming too much, and Spencer seems to notice your fractured gasps muffled around his shaft. He looks at you through heavy lids and takes pity on your predicament, pulls himself out of your mouth and sits back on his heels.
You still catch the sight of him fisting his cock through the mist clouding your eyes, but even that melts away when Aaronโs lips find the shell of your ear, whispering all the filthy things that ruins whatโs left of your fragile composure.
Always so good to me.
Thatโs it, taking me so well.
โmy sweet, sweet girl.
But it isnโt until his voice drops lower that your body responds without permission.
โGonna fill you up, yeah?โ His teeth graze your earlobe. โYou'll let me do that?โ
Your cunt squeezes him so fiercely that he chokes on a grunt. Slides a heavy palm right at the supple flesh of your belly.
โOr you gonna let both of us fill you up?โ
You feel your muscles tensingโ
โLet him fuck my cum back into you?"
And moan unabashedly.
The sounds spilling from your throat hardly seem like your own. You try to marshal a proper syllable, but it simply melts on your tongue before it can crawl past your lips. What comes instead is an automatic stutter of nods, frantic little jerks of your head because heโs your boss, isnโt he? And good subordinates follow orders dutifully.
โThatโs right,โ Aaron croons. โKnew youโd take it. Such a good girl for me, aren't you?"
You nod even harder, grinding back against his ruthless thrusts while he keeps spinning those filthy words.
โGonna be so full, sweetheart. Mess dripping out this pretty pussy."
The picture he paints is enough to tip you over the edge.
Pleasure snaps bright and violent. Your vision splinters into shards of glittering light as your cunt clamps down around him, walls fluttering in rapid spasms that slowly jerk his own release.
Aaron groans, fingers biting into the soft give of your skin while he keeps you chained. Holds you still as he floods your insides, heavy spurts that seem to pool deep in your belly before trickling down every fold of your flesh. Trickles weave along your swollen lips, mars the plush curve of your ass โ stains your already wet thighs as he gently slips free.
Youโre in no state to protest when he drags your limp body across tangled sheets. You donโt even have the strength to lift your head as he tucks you effortlessly under his chin, back to his chest, letting yourself dissolve between thick thighs. Your skin is burning fresh from the tremor clinging in your core.
Your lungs still stutter, but your pulse is clamoring for more.
Seldom have you seen Spencer move with such quiet certainty. He sinks to his knees between your quivering thighs, and the dim lamplight silvers the slick shine on his cock as he guides it through the creamy mess clinging to your folds. Quite repulsive, but nothing less than a wicked kind of fascination.
Clearly he sees the appeal โ why else would he press the rounded crown against your hole, only to have you seize around him even after being stretched so thoroughly? Mesmerized is a better way to put it as he tries to rut deeper, and with every inch your pretty cunt swallows, he wonders why heโs wasted years fussing over germs when raw pleasure like this exists.
When you simply exist.
He lets out a pleased sigh when you finally stretch around him (takes a moment of more slow rocking and a hissed curse youโve never heard from his lips) as your eyes hone in on the spot where your bodies merge. Hips flushed, pelvis snug, coarse hair pressed against your puffy clit, and you feel a stab of fullness that spirals straight into your spine.
It doesnโt take long for him to fuck you then.
Like a man possessed, too.
Your nails bite into Aaronโs thighs. Claws sinking into warm flesh as you brace yourself for every brutal thrust Spencer rams into you. The force sends your tits bouncing with each snap of his hips, and Aaronโs hands are there in an instant โ rough palms claiming the soft weight, wicked thumbs skating over taut peaks. Rolls them between calloused fingers with just enough pressure to sting your eyes.
The rapture on your face is barely recognizable anymore. Pinched and overwhelmed, you donโt notice him abandoning your perky nipples to skim down your torso until the pruny pads of his fingertips find your soaking clit.
Your back arches off his chest.
โFuuuckโโ you wail, โgonna c-come.โ
He can see that. Itโs painfully, beautifully obvious to anyone with eyes that youโre right on the edge again for what must be the hundredth time tonight. And Aaron doesnโt think of himself as cruel. Far from it, really. But watching your body almost folded in half has him feeling absolutely wicked.
His voice is toothy sweet as he rubs firm circles against your poor, overstimulated clit. โI know, sweetheart. Gonna come again from being used?โ
โAh, ahโbabyโp-pleaseโโ
โGonna soak his cock for me? Show him how good my girl is?โ
โAaronโ!โ
โMmm? Whatโs that?โ He hums lazily. โYou want me to stop?โ
A desperate whine tears from your throat, and your shaking fingers clutch at the coarse hair on his forearm. His muscles flex beneath your grip, then loosen, then tighten. All it earns you is an amused laugh and an open-mouthed kiss to your cheek.
โOh, my pretty girl. Greedy little thing canโt even decide, can you?โ
โIโ I canโ I wantโโ
โShh,โ he soothes, though his touch only grows faster. Rubs your tight little bud as your hips buck shamelessly into the twofold stimulation. โNo need to think, sweetheart, thatโs my job. Yours is to take it, isnโt it?โ
Your words slur into a quiet sobโ
โYou can take it, I know you canโyesโyes, thatโs it, sweetie, give it to us. Come on, just like thatโโ
โbefore it blares into the stale air.
The back of your heels kick the mattress the moment you come around his word.
Spencer does too, lungs pummeled when your cunt squeeze around his length, gripping him like a steel vise.
He feels it all the way down to his bones, feels the ache radiating from his groin to his thighs and into the small of his back with every pulse of cum that hammers into you. His hips jerk in a frantic rhythm that no amount of bliss can slow, even when the swollen head of his cock nudges the soft resistance of your cervical lip, seeking a depth that simply doesnโt exist.
Still, he grinds deeper, crushing the distance until youโre stuffed full with an ironclad grip on your thighs.
โS-Spenceโฆโ
โA bit more,โ he rasps. โPromise. Just a little more.โ
That little fills you to the absolute brim.
It feels like his own pulse is tangled in the tight press of your walls.
And youโve never known the smell of sex this strong. The air all but congeals when he finally pulls out, a slow, sticky slide that draws silken filaments of white from your used, swollen hole as three pairs of eyes lock onto the streak.
Yours is a little bleary. You canโt tell which milky ribbon belongs to whom, whose thick release is swirling with the gloss of your own slick, or which heartbeat drums the loudest in the tight space between your bodies. Breath, heat, and sweat fold together until the three of you feel like a single organism with too many limbs and just one shared lung.
Not that it matters. None of you seem particularly bothered by the lack of space. Aaron reclines against the creaky headboard, cradling most of your weight across his chest while Spencer draws lazy patterns over your sated thighs.
You donโt mind in the least. In fact, you bask in them both, drifting in the strange yet comforting irony that it took a misplaced contract for you to realize intimacy could be plural. You never expected it to multiply so neatly.
Some connections, it seems, donโt fit into singular terms at all.
Later that night, when the two men almost twice your size crowd you in the cramped bathroom, you realize your thoughts are already rewriting the contract. You wonder if Aaron would let you make a slight revision, scribble the third-participant clause into something more permanent.
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ADKASDAKSDJASDA i need this man so bad its not even funny
you knew everything about your boyfriend. you knew what his favorite food was. you knew all his icks. you knew exactly how he styled his hairโ and why the hair gel he used was a specific brandโ no other one would work. the point is, you knew everything about Dick Grayson. Or so you thoughtโฆ because there was one thing missing from your list: your boyfriend was nightwing and you had no idea at all. which is why you were sitting on your kitchen counter, bored and aloneโ at 2 am. your boyfriend was supposed to be here hours ago, but he got held up. and now youโre brooding. alone. in the dark. your cat is curled up below your dangling feet, deep in thought with you.ย
currently, youโre thinking about strawberries. you want strawberries, but you donโt want to get up and eat them. youโd rather be dramatic and visualize sad music playing in the background. another sigh escapes your lips before you swipe up your phone again, opening TikTok. your algorithm does nothing but piss you off. its all boring news or looksmaxing edits, and it makes you want to throw your phone at something. youโre about to relax a little more and fall asleep right there when you hear a noise come from behind you. you turn around and see the window opening and thenโ Nightwing.
the moment he sees you, he freezes and he looks like a kid getting caught stealing candy. youโre still on the counter, head tilted around, โNightwing?โ you ask, โwhat theโโ
and then you did something that changed everything. you pulled out your phone and texted your boyfriend.ย
you: Dick. Dick. Dick.
And then, Nightwingโs phone buzzes. you look at him curiously, then shrug it off. it had to be some coincidence. then you turn back and text Dick again as Nightwing fumbles around with his phone, attempting to silentโ not that you know that.
you: Dick
you: NIGHTWINGS IN OUR APARTMENT
you: if you donโt reply im dumping you
And funnily enough, nightwingโs phone buzzes three more times. when you look down at your phone and see that Dick has his notifications silent. which means that he was ignoring you. your stomach churned with guilt and worry before you calmed yourself down. his phone mightโve had scheduled downtime. That must be it right?
You jump off the counter in one quick motion, landing too fast, too suddenly, and cross the space between you before you can think twice. Nightwing barely has time to react before youโre reaching for his phone.
Itโs unlocked. Thatโs the first thing that makes your stomach drop. The wallpaper is the second. Itโs your boyfriendโs.
The same one youโve seen a hundred times before when youโve stolen his phone just to mess with him.
Your scrolling through the notifications, and four texts from you sit there unanswered.
The air in your chest tightens.
Nightwing shifts slightly, and for the first time, he looks like he knows exactly where this is going.
You donโt ask questions.
You donโt even think.
You just react.
Before you know it, you start aggressively kicking and whacking Nightwing.
It's stupid really, because you're fighting skills are choppy and uncoordinated. unlike nightwing's. Itโs pure adrenaline and confusion and betrayal all collapsing into movement. You start punching him and aimlessly waving your arms around., every motion fueled by the very simple and incorrect conclusion your brain has landed on: he stole your boyfriendโs phone.
โAre you kidding me?!โ you snap, voice rising. โGive it back!โ
He raises his hands. โWaitโโ
You donโt wait. Why should you? This rando STOLE dickโs phone. Only you get to do that.
You hit him again.
And then, because somewhere deep in your memory your boyfriend once showed you something in training and you stored it incorrectly in your brain as โacceptable emergency procedure,โ you go lower.
Hard.
Nightwing immediately folds, groaning in pain and confusion.
โBabeโwhy??โ he manages-- and he sounds a lot like... Dick.
You stop instantly.
Your head snaps up.
โโฆbabe?โ you repeat.
Something shifts in your expression.
Slowly, deliberately, you reach up and pull his mask off.
The second you see his face, everything stops.
โDick?!โ you say, in shock. โWhat the fuck.โ
Heโs still bent slightly, still recovering, one hand braced against the counter. He looks exhausted, in pain, and very much like someone who just watched reality go off the rails in real time.
โYeah,โ he mutters. โHi.โ
You just stare at him. The pieces click into place too fast and not fast enough at the same time.
โYouโre Nightwing,โ you say flatly.
โYes.โ
โYouโre Nightwing,โ you repeat, louder now, like repetition will fix the logic error, "You've BEEN nightwing."
โYes,โ he says again, carefully.
Silence stretches and part of you wants to try and whack him againโ JUST to see whatโll happen.
You sit back on the counter slowly, like your body has given up processing input entirely.
โโฆI kicked you in the balls,โ you say again, but now it sounds less like anger and more like disbelief.
โYou did,โ he confirms.
Another pause.
โI thought you broke into our apartment,โ you add.
โI did break into our apartment,โ he admits.
You point weakly at him. โThat doesnโt help you.โ
He exhales, somewhere between pained and amused, like heโs still trying to decide whether this is the worst or funniest moment of his life.
โI was going to tell you,โ he says.
You immediately raise a hand.
โNope,โ you cut in. โI canโt do explanations right now. Iโm tired and the shock is already over."
He leans down, pecks your forehead, and says, "I'm gonna go shower okay?"
Later, after the shower, after everything has been temporarily postponed, he comes back into the kitchen, more relaxed now.
Heโs shirtless, hair damp, sweatpants hanging low in a way that makes you wanna do cartwheels with joy.
You are still on the counter.
โSo,โ he asks, careful now, โdo you want to talk about it?โ
You donโt even look up.
โNo.โ
โโฆno?โ
โIโm tired,โ you repeat simply. โI want strawberries.โ
He opens the fridge without arguing.
When he hands you the carton, you take it like it is the most important thing in the universe. You immediately point at accusingly him as you settle back in.
โI waited three hours for this,โ you remind him.
โI was Nightwing,โ he says again, like that explains anything.
โYeah,โ you reply. โand i wanted strawberries. that's more important.โ
That makes him laugh under his breath.
โand you couldnโt grab them yourself?โ He teases.ย
โnope. I was comfy. didnโt wanna move. YOU wouldโve moved for me. Donโt make me beat you up again. Cuz I will. โ
you analyze the carton for the best one. you settle on a pinkish red one with the prettiest leaves. you take a little bite before offering it to Dick, who pushes it away and presses his lips to yours instead.ย
โnope.โ you grin into the kiss, โi wanna eat my strawberries.โ
he groans again, โyouโd rather eat strawberries than my mouth?โ
you roll your eyes scoff in reply, though a smile does tug at your lips, โyouโre disgusting Grayson.โ
โOkay, okay.โ He rolls his eyes before grabbing a strawberry and bringing it up to your mouth.ย
you take a bite without hesitation and lick your lips. โThese are really good,โ you look up at dick, gaze full of seriousness, โtry one.โ
when he shakes his head, you want to hit him.ย
โTry. One.โ You said again, slower this time, daring him to say no.ย
โN. O. No,โ he replies, โunlessโฆโ
โUh uh not happening tonight Grayson. Iโm tired because I was up ALL NIGHT waiting for you.โand when you fake a pout, he immediately grabs a strawberry and shoves it in his mouth.
โwaitโฆ youโre right.โ he smirks a little, before passing you another oneโ which you take gladly, โthese are amazing. Iโm gonna need to taste some more.โ
You nod, barely swallowing your strawberry before his lips are suddenly on you AGAIN. This time itโs not so gentle.
hiii! okay so my taglist is open! i didnt tag anyone bc i didnt know if they wanted to be tagged in ALL my work or just that specific fic. if you wanna be tagged just ask :)
also should i do a jason version or is this gonna flop.
Synopsis: You and Mac have been best friends for years, and while everyone has made their bets on if you two have feelings for each other or not, nothing has ever happened between you. Until now.
requested by; @clonesdserveb3tter ( at the risk of sounding like an ao3 authors note, sorry this took so long my brother got into a car accident and i didn't have time to write)
"Can you get any closer?" It's Riley's voice, echoing in your earpiece as your eyes scan the room. Her voice is clear, despite the distance between you. She's back at a hotel across the street, keeping her eyes on the cameras she hacked into as soon as you arrived. You're surrounded by millionaires, men and women alike, chatting amongst themselves at a not so legal auction. And you have your best friend of over a decade by your side, an arm warm and tight around your waist. Angus MacGyver. Blonde, gorgeous and too intelligent for his own good.
"We're trying Riley." He mutters back, having heard the same communication through his own earpiece. He leads you through the crowds of people, a hand on the small of your back, trying to get the both of you as close as possible to the man on the other side of the room. His name, or at least the alias you were given, is Gavin Whittaker. An arms dealer who happens to be in possession of a rather dangerous amount of weapons and explosives that in the wrong hands, could kill a quarter of Chicago.
"You need to get close enough for me to access the codes to the safe on his phone. You have twenty minutes till the auction starts." She's told you a million times it seems, but the reminder of the immediacy of the situation is always helpful to keep the adrenaline flowing.
"We've got it." You mumble back, keeping a smile on your face as you walk through the crowded room. You grab a glass of champagne off of a passing waiters tray, and keep moving with Mac close behind. You look over your shoulder at him, the front strands of his blonde hair falling into the blue eyes you've looked into more than any other pair.
"I need you to dance with me." You tell him as you begin to close in on the target. "We're not going to be able to just walk up to him, security is too tight, if they see us make a beeline in his direction we'll be made immediately." You are well seasoned in this sort of thing, as is Mac, and he's able to pick up on your plan instantly.
"We don't have any music." He mutters back to you, though his hand on your back is now turning you around to face him. His fingers intertwine with your free hand, the palm of his other hand coming to rest on your waist.
"You don't need music when you're drunk." you whisper, the tilt of his head and the smile he gives you communicating that he likes the way you think. He always likes the way you think.
You hold your full glass of champagne in one hand, as Mac twirls you into him and then away again, toward the target. You release a rather convincing tipsy laugh right as you slam into Gavin Whittaker, your drink, still full to the brim, going everywhere. Just as you hoped it would.
A list of profanities leaves Gavin as he gathers himself and in an instant youโre on him, hands patting down his chest as you spew apologies with a few slurred words to sell the act. "I didn't even see you, I am so sorry." You gather up the lengths of your dress, using it to pat dry the ends of his suit jacket and flashing a little bit of leg in the process to bring his guard down. It works a charm. Gavin Whittaker looks from your legs to your hands, and then to your face. You bat your eyelashes, as sorrowful as you can make them as he takes you in. Pretty girl, pretty dress, all over him along with some champagne.
"Got it," Riley alerts through your earpiece, almost at the same time as you feel a pair of warm hands on your shoulders.
"We should have been paying more attention," Mac says, gently pulling you back and a little closer to him, not quite laying his claim but something like it. "but when she asks me to dance with her, I just can't say no." Mac pulls you back further, tucking you into his side as Gavin Whittaker comes to terms with the fact that the woman that had been climbing over him seconds beforehand is spoken for. Or at least is according to the falsified documents Matty provided before you left the phoenix.
She requested that you and Mac play a newlywed couple at the gala. Lovebirds that can't get enough of each other, spending all their wedding gift money. You had argued that you could work the case under entirely different circumstances, but Matty insisted this was the only way. Just like she had with the last case, and the one before that.
Mac was your best friend, your companionship dating back to childhood, lasting through military days where Mac spent his time as an EOD and you as a Medic. And now you were here, forced almost once a month to play his lover, or girlfriend or wife. You didn't hate it by any means. You were used to being close to him. It was easy playing with his hair while you spied on targets, or letting him trace patterns on your skin while you planted a bug underneath a table.
But your problem arose with just how good you both were at it. At just how easy it was for you to slip into that format, for you to love him and be loved by him in that way. Even if it was an act, at times it didn't feel like it.
The way he held you now, protectively against him as Gavin and his security eyed you closely wasn't an act. At least you knew that much.
"Who am I to stand in the way of a woman and her champagne?" The target says at last, a very false smile crawling onto his lips. You manage a bashful smile back, ducking your head into Mac's chest to feign innocence.
Mac shrugs, "I was thinking the same thing. Is there anything we can do to help with the cleanup?" he gestures to the mans damp suit, most of the liquid soaked up by the ends of your dress. Gavin shakes his head, clearly irritated and wishing for this interaction to be over. "Don't worry about it." He says, before he turns his back on both you and Mac, security enveloping him before anything more can be done.
"Great job guys." It's Matty, ever observant in your earpieces. A breath you didn't know you were holding in blows out of you, and even though Gavin has been ushered away by his guards, Mac presses a kiss to your hair, ever the doting husband. Or maybe that's just him, doting on you.
You become acutely aware of his arm around you, still holding you close even as the coast is clear. "I had no idea you were such a shitty dancer." You say to him, hand coming to rest atop his on your hip to let him know you're aware of his touch.
"Hey," he pinches you gently, never able to hurt you even as a joke. "that shitty dancing got you close enough to feel up Whittaker didn't it?" There's a hint of distain there, as if the thought of you having to do so makes him a little sick. You can read it in his expression, in those eyes.
"I saw that." you give him a gentle slap on chest. "Quit worrying about me, Angus."
His expression instantly changes to one of annoyance. "Please don't call me that."
"Angus." you say again for good measure, reveling in the roll of his eyes.
-
When you're back at the hotel room upstairs from the gala, Mac finally releases his hold on you as you slip into the room. Inside Jack, Riley and Bozer crowd around Riley's computer as they watch the feed she's hacked into.
"Bout time you two lovebirds got out of there." Jack's voice is teasing, as if he knows something you don't. Mac scowls at him as you slip further into the room, kicking off your heels by the couch and collapsing onto it.
"How much longer till they realize they're locked out of their own safe?" you ask, Riley turning her gaze to you.
She and Bozer used the codes you and Mac managed to get to change the password on the safe. And to take out the weapons that were inside. It's bought you a little more time to let the criminals gather, but you won't be able to apprehend them all on your own.
"I'd say they've already realized." Riley nods toward the screen, and sure enough, the security are scattering as Whittaker pulls out his phone from his pocket. He dials a number with frustration on his face.
"How far away is the swat team?" you ask, hiking up the end of your dress a little, so you can fold your legs up underneath you.
"Ten minutes out."
You sigh, and look up away from the screen. You're job is done here then, for the most part. You can feel Mac's eyes on you, warm and familiar. You wonder why he's staring, if he even knows he's doing it. You often catch him lost in thought, his gaze locked onto you quietly. You don't bother to call him out on it.
The group of you wait for the call from Matty to say the S.W.A.T team is in the building, and then you begin packing your things. This case was an easy one, all things considered. Or at least easy for your little crew. You've done much scarier things, and so despite the long hours of surveillance, the flights, interrogations and small fights, you don't feel all that tired.
The flight home isn't any more interesting. You sit at the back of the plane with Riley, while the boys whisper up the front. You don't bother trying to listen in, they're always talking about some nonsense that makes no sense to you. Riley nudges you with her shoulder, and you turn your attention to the woman beside you.
"So, you and Mac seemed pretty close today." of course. You should have seen this coming.
"Were we convincing?" you avoid what she's really implying, trying to keep the focus on the case itself.
"You convinced me. Though you two don't have to try very hard to be believable." she chuckles.
You frown, shuffling up in your seat. "We're just friends." You want your voice to come out stern and final. But it doesn't exactly work that way.
"Does he know that?" Riley glances over your shoulder at the men and when her eyes come back to you there's something accusatory there. "And are you sure you know that?"
You try not to let her words settle, pushing the thought of your feelings for Mac out of your mind. You've known him forever, too long to ruin it with romance. "We're friends. He knows that. I know that."
Riley nods, looking down at the phone in her hand. "Okay." You can tell she doesn't believe you for a second, and you watch her fingers type something out on her screen until you hear a ding from the other end of the plane. You turn to see Jack checking his phone and whip your head back around to Riley.
"Are you and Jack gossiping about this?"
Riley doesn't respond, barely flinches at your accusation. But you know it's true by the way her own phone dings a second later, and you look over your shoulder again to see Jack putting his away.
-
On the other side of the plane Jack is just as much on Mac's case as Riley is on yours.
"Brother, I'm not trying to get in your business, but don't you think it's about time you told her?"
Mac stiffens. He's been watching Jack text Riley for half the flight, knowing something like this was coming sooner or later. "Told her what?" he doesn't have to ask who Jack is talking about. There's no one else it could be.
"Told her you like her, that you wanna kiss that pretty face."
Mac's already shaking his head before Jack has even finished his sentence. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes you do." Jack nudges Mac's foot with his own. He looks toward Bozer for back up and it's now two against one.
"Not gonna lie man, I thought you two were already a thing." Bozer states, an awkward smile hanging from his lips. "I thought you were a thing when we were ten years old, then when we were thirteen, then when we started high school I thought for sureโ"
Mac cuts him off, "We were never a thing."
"Well, maybe you should tell her that." Jack mumbles, his gaze flitting between the seats at the back of the plane where you sit, and where Mac resides in front of him.
"She knows we're friends, she's made it clear that's what she wants."
"Ah, so you don't want to be just friends, you're just following orders." Bozer latches onto Mac's almost confession as fast as it comes, Jack grinning ear to ear as Mac fumbles to clear things up.
"That's not what I meant, I just meant that she knows we're friends, I know we're friends. We are just friends."
But he's already put his foot in it now, and there's no way he's getting out.
-
The next case you end up on has you and Mac paired together again. You wander through the halls of a museum with him, pretending to be a couple of lovey-dovey sightseers. You need to find your way to the back office of the museum, and get access to the files under the desk. There should be a USB drive there, if you can make it.
You hold Mac close, one hand wrapped around his arm and the other hand locked with his. He can feel the warmth of your fingers through the fabric of his button up shirt, and wishes there was no barrier between your touch and his skin.
"The office should be just around this corner." you say, nudging him a little to the left to make sure he takes the turn. He just squeezes your hand in his in response, unable to let go.
Just as predicted the door is right there when you turn the corner. There's a large sign on it that reads 'staff only' in bold red lettering. a sign you ignore as soon as you see it.
Once you know the coast is clear you pull away from Mac and open the door, moving inside quickly as to not be detected. Mac enters after you, closing the door gently. Once you hear it click you move right toward the desk at the far side of the room. It's dark brown, wooden, and smells like vanilla incense.
You rummage through the drawers as quick as you can, Mac searching the drawers at the other end of the desk. "Can you see it?" you ask as you close the first drawer and move onto the one below it. Mac grunts, shaking his head. "Nothing yet."
Your time is running out, just like your luck, because in the next second Riley's voice cracks over your earpiece. "There's someone coming you two."
"How close are they?" Mac closes the drawer he was rummaging through, his eyes now on the door.
"Close enough that you don't have time to leave. Is there a place inside where you guys can hide?" She sounds stressed, and you know she's trying to find a way to divert the attention of the approaching person as she speaks.
You don't respond, lurching forward to grab Mac's hand and pull him toward a closet near the door.
"You got six seconds guys." Riley's voice is frantic, and you open the closet door and shove Mac inside before you can even think about whether you'll both fit. He pulls you in after him, tugging you tight to his body as he shuts the door to the closet. Just in time. You hear the door to the office open, footsteps soft as they enter the room.
You try to steady your breathing as Mac holds you up, your feet uneven in the small space. You would have fallen right out of the closet by now if it weren't for Mac holding you in place. You try not to breathe, not to make any sound at all.
You're staring at Mac in the darkness of the closet, gripping the fabric of his shirt in your fists. His eyes are soft, melting into yours and you grip him a little tighter as your heart races. You push yourself up as much as you can with such little space to move, and place your lips next to Mac's ear. "Is now a bad time to tell you I'm claustrophobic?" your whisper is so quiet, barely there as footsteps move outside the closet.
Mac's arms wrap around you tighter, and he's so unbelievably warm up close. "I know you are. I've known since you punched Steve Lineman in the face in fifth grade for locking you in the P.E shed."
You don't say anything in response, too afraid of getting caught by whoever's outside. The footsteps begin to move further from the closet and the desk, heading toward the door. You try not to sigh in relief just yet.
One of Mac's hands moves further up your back, splaying out across your shoulder blades and your breath hitches. You want to kiss him you realize. This close, with his hands on you and his eyes looking right in yours. You want to kiss your best friend.
"You guys are in the clear." Riley's voice interrupts your thoughts, and it makes you jump, startled in his arms by the sudden sound of her voice.
Mac doesn't react for a moment, staring at you in the minimal light of the closet. Staring at you in the way he always does when he thinks you aren't looking, except this time you're face to face.
"We should get out of here." your voice is a whisper, despite the fact you don't need to anymore. Mac nods, his hold on you loosening.
"Yeah," he reaches behind you for the closet door and pushes it open, allowing you to step backward out into the light of the room.
You move back toward the desk to continue your search but Mac reaches out, his hand grazing yours. "I got it."
You turn as his hand slides into the pocket of his jeans, and he pulls out the USB drive you had been looking for. He must have just and only found it before you had to hide.
Unable to form words, your thoughts from the closet still running rampant in your head, you nod and move toward the door.
"Are we clear, Riles?" you hear Mac mutter behind you. She confirms the hall is empty a second later, and you dash out of the room before the heat that is building between you and Mac can worsen.
-
That night you awake with a start. You sit up straight in your bed, breathing heavy as you try to get control of yourself. You were dreaming about Mac. And not platonically.
This has happened a few times before, once or twice after a night on the town, or a long mission that ended in an embrace that lasted more than a few seconds.
But the dreams have been coming more frequently lately, reminding you just how much you're avoiding. You check the time on the alarm clock beside your bed, the blue numbers informing you of the early morning. You would try and go back to sleep, but you don't think there's any point. Your heart is racing and there's no way you're just going to fall into a dreamless sleep no matter how hard you try and wrangle your mind.
You slink out of bed, your feet padding on the carpeted floor as you move toward the kitchen for a glass of water. When you get there you come face to face with the picture of Mac that you have stuck to your fridge. He smiles back at you, all crinkled eyes and white teeth, making your stomach twist.
You almost reach out to touch the photo, but you stop yourself before you can go through with it. What is wrong with you? Your fingers itch with the need to call him and tell him to come over. You know if he was here he would brush your hair back from your face and make a stupid joke. You know he would make you feel better, he always does, no matter what's got you down.
You shake you head, trying to will the thoughts from your mind. You count the steps it takes to get a glass from the cupboard, to fill it with water and take it back to your room. The counting doesn't distract you as well as you hoped it would, but it was worth a shot. Is ruining your friendship with Mac worth it too?
You don't go back to sleep after that, instead opting to watch tv in the darkness until the sun decides to make her entrance. It's new years eve today, and this isn't exactly how you pictured your day starting. But nevertheless you move sluggishly toward the shower trying to avoid looking at your phone. You know sooner or later you'll receive a text from Mac, inviting you over tonight for Bozer's New Year Party.
Just the thought of him has your heart racing. But this has happened before. You'll get over it, you just need a minute. Or an hour. An eternity, maybe.
-
Mac has been oddly quiet Jack realizes, as he helps Bozer hang up happy new year banners around the house. Mac has been anything but helpful all day, getting in the way more than anything, which isn't like him.
"Earth to Mac." Jack calls, waving his hands in front of the blonde as he waits for a response. Mac snaps to attention, blinking rapidly.
"Sorry, what?"
Jack places a hand on Mac's shoulder, "We lost you there for a second bud. Honestly, you've been off in your own little world all day."
"Mac's always in his own little world." Bozer chimes in, climbing down from a step ladder. But Jack shakes his head.
"Not like this he ain't. What's up man?"
Mac doesn't want to say it, knows that if he does he'll never live it down. So he tells a half truth. "Y/N isn't answering my texts, I think I pissed her off the other day." He knows you're not mad at him, at least he thinks he does. But it's the closet he can get to saying, 'I'm going crazy thinking about someone who isn't interested in me the way I am in them.'
"Don't worry about it man, she's never been mad at you a day in her life." Jack squeezes Mac's shoulder, pulling out a chair to sit next to him. But Bozer pipes up with some not so helpful information.
"Not exactly true, you remember the time you blew up her favourite stuffed bear? She wanted you dead Mac, she told me as much. And in high school when you tried to leave her a valentine and it covered her whole locker in red glitter? And last year when youโ"
"Not helping Boze." Mac cuts in, allowing his head to fall into his hands.
Jack chuckles, twisting a ring on his finger "You left her a valentine in high school?"
"I left her a valentine as friends." Mac clarifies, trying not to let Jack run with the idea. But Bozer has other plans, and has clearly been waiting to share all that he knows.
"He left her a valentine every year up until they left for the army together."
Mac wants to deny it but he can't. What Bozer doesn't know is that he still found ways to make you little valentine gifts even during deployment. He would write notes in the dirt, make you little heart out of pieces of scrap metal and paper. He never stopped making you valentines until he joined the phoenix with you. Until you became coworkers and it began to cross a line. Not that he wasn't already toeing the line between being your friend and flirting with you.
"Can we get back to the real conversation here? I texted her asking if she's coming tonight and she hasn't responded." With the line of work you're in Mac can't help but worry. What if somethings wrong? But also, with the way you looked at him the other night while trapped in that closet....he's worried it might be something he's done. Not that he did anything. But he wanted to, and you've always been able to read him like a book.
"She'll be here man, she always shows up for us." Jack clears his throat. "For you."
Mac lets the truth of those words set in, allowing a deep breath to fill his chest. You'll be here tonight, you'll show. You always do.
-
When you walk out onto the patio of Mac and Bozer's shared place, Mac almost knocks over his drink. He jolts to sit up straighter, elbow knocking the table as his beer rocks unstably in response. He ignores it in favor of looking at you.
You've dressed up for the night, in a dress that Mac has never seen before. It's getting hard for him to breathe. Is this what people mean when they say something has taken their breath away?
Jack gets up to greet you in an instant, calling a "Look what the cat dragged in." as he moves to pull you into a side hug, walking with you to the fire pit on the deck. Mac stays still, unable to think for the first time in his life.
-
"This is amazing Boze," you say, looking around at all the decorations laid out. The banners on the walls, the streamers and the fairy lights. It's gorgeous and perfect to end the year.
Bozer gets bashful at your words, "It's nothing, I mean, I only planned it for a couple of months."
You want to laugh, but you can tell he is entirely sincere with his claim. You choose to smile instead, trying to stop your gaze from wandering to Mac. But it's a lost cause. You can feel him looking right at you, and that alone draws your own attention to him.
His blonde hair is more of a mess than usual, as if he spent half the day running his hands through it. You wonder if he had trouble sleeping last night too, or if maybe those feelings are still unrequited.
"Did you help at all? With the decorations?" you ask him. You overthink the question instantly, what a stupid thing to say.
"Mac just sat around moping." Bozer cuts in before Mac can so much as open his mouth to respond. Your gaze cuts to him, and then back to Mac in confusion.
"What, why? Are you okay?" instantly your juvenile embarrassment is gone, in favor of worrying about him.
"Yeah, Boze is justโ"
This time Jack cuts him off. "He needs to talk to you."
Your eyes widen in an instant, and you want to be sick at the thought of whatever it is he has to say. "Oh, um, okay."
Mac seems just as startled as you, putting down the beer he was holding and glaring at Jack. "He's being dramatic, nothing's wrong."
"Then why did you need to talk to me?" you manage to keep the shake from your voice, but you bet everyone can see it in your eyes anyway.
"I don't." Mac snaps, and then instantly checks himself for his tone. "I wasn't moping about anything."
You don't believe him, and you know he can tell. But you let it slide, and you turn your attention to Riley who out of sympathy has started up a new conversation.
You glance at Mac across the circle, and catch him watching you right back.
-
It's almost midnight. There's ten minutes left until a new year begins and you all start spitting resolutions you know you won't keep. You have a resolution you won't dare share. That you won't let your feelings for your best friend get in the way of work, or your friendship. You don't know if you'll be able to keep it though.
Mac has been pacing for the better part of an hour, having the occasional conversation with Jack and Bozer, but never once staying still. You wonder what he's thinking about, if he really does have something important to say to you.
You have a brief conversation with Matty about Jack's antics on the last mission, about the prank you might want to pull on him to get him back next time, and then Bozer is calling out.
"Five minutes everyone!"
Your eyes move to Mac in an instant. The thought enters your head for a moment. The image of kissing him at midnight searing itself into your mind before you push it away.
Mac meets your gaze, his pacing halts.
You've spoken about it before on past New Years. "What if we kissed at midnight just for the hell of it?" "There's no harm in it right?" But you'd never once gone through with it.
Mac puts down his drink. Runs a hand through his hair, and moves toward you.
-
Mac doesn't know what ghost is controlling him right now, but surely he's posessed. He moves toward you with purpose, covering the ground swiftly until he's close enough to touch you.
"I'm sorry about earlier." He starts. "And for the other day, in the closet."
"There's nothing to be sorry for." You manage, clutching your glass of Bozer's homemade punch a little tighter.
"You look..." Mac searches for a word and comes up empty.
"Thank you." you smile, and he does the same, as Bozer shouts to the group.
"two minutes!" he sounds so excited, so happy to be here with all of you.
Mac is trying to talk himself out of it. It won't work out the way he hopes it will. He shouldn't. He can't. But you're looking up at him, fingers wrapped around your drink, and Mac knows you well enough to read the expression on your face. You're thinking the same thing he is. It's the face you made when you had a crush on Thomas from 5th grade, the face you made when he teased you about it. The face you made when you saw Thomas go with someone else to the school dance, despite the fact you thought he was going to ask you. And the face you made when Mac asked you instead. Has it really been in front of him this whole time?
Bozer's voice is a distant buzzing in the background, counting down. Mac's hands clench at his sides, his body's last ditch effort at convincing his brain that this isn't a good idea.
"I'm not sorry, about what happened...almost happened in that closet." The words find their way out before he can stop them, not that he tried very hard to.
You place your drink on the ledge beside you, "I know."
You look beautiful tonight, the string lights Bozer hung bringing a sparkle to your eye. Your dress looks soft to the touch, and the more his thoughts spin, the harder it becomes to try and stop them.
He can hear Bozer's final countdown, ten seconds till midnight. You smile, all knowing at last. And Mac knows then that this will work out. Because you're taking a step toward him, reading his mind.
6, 5, 4...
Mac's head tilts to the side, one last examination of your expression. "Fuck it."
3, 2, 1.
Mac kisses you, hands coming up to the sides of your face. You let him kiss you, let him take his time. Mac doesn't know what he expected. He realizes now that kissing you has been on his mind for a decade, but it's not how he thought it would be. There's fireworks, real ones, exploding nearby in new years celebration, but the feeling Mac gets is a lot simpler. It's not world altering, or life changing. Kissing you feels normal, like this was always how it was meant to be. He fits with you, always has.
He pulls away, and suddenly all logical thought rushes back. He's just kissed his best friend, and everyone is watching. The countdown and cheering from all your friends has died down in favor of stunned silence. They all stand around with mouths agape, and you stand before him, hands on his chest, with a similar expression.
"Sorry." it's all he can think of to say, the silence deafening.
You stand very still before him, eyes locked onto him and nothing else. He opens his mouth to apologize again, when you grip his shirt tight in your fingers and pull him down to you. "Just be quiet." you mumble.
The kiss you press to his lips is softer than the one before, as if you're communicating with him through it.
Slow claps echo around the patio, gaining speed as you both break apart. Jack is grinning ear to ear, his claps getting louder and more obnoxious by the second.
"Alright, alright, shows over." Mac says, raising one hand in defense. But his other hand has a tight grip on your waist, not able to let go of the moment just yet.
"No way," you say, and Mac follows your gaze to Matty and Riley, passing money around. "You gambling rats."
Mac smiles, because despite the words you don't sound mad at all. You sound content, and so is he. He looks down at you, at your hand over his on your hip.
"We're gonna talk about this later." you mumble, because you do have a lot to discuss. How this is going to work, how you turn a friendship into something more.
Mac thinks that can wait. For now, he wants another drink.
"Happy new year." he leans down, pressing a kiss to your cheek, feeling the warmth of your skin. He has no idea how this will work, but he doesn't regret that it happened. It's been a long time coming after all.