#hope it covers that this drawing was rushed :''''

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

fluffy kid!stancest first kiss on glass shard beach would be so cute maybe by the swings or when they first find what would become the stan o war

combining these two together, but 2nd anon PLEASE know your ask got me writing old stancest at first that immediately turned hurt and comfort, so i'll be posting that when i actually finish it udndhdhdu this one is a bit of a rush job, BUT i hope you guys like it! this is my first time writing kid stancest, trying to run my head over how boys just banter and this is the best i could relay lmao. also if ford's internal dialogue isnt as flowery as it ought to be, it's mostly because i do still want it to sound like it's coming from a child, and i imagine Ford's internal dialogue wasn't fully realized until he's at least a littls older, you know?

anyway enough stalling: please enjoy!

~~~

Ford thinks he could stay like this forever.

Sitting on a crate, Stanford watches Stanley draw on the sand with the end of a big stick, planning all their great adventures when they finally get out of this place, the promise of their Big Day of Adventure made them giddy all day, bouncing on the heels of their feet all over the beach until the deck guys they "borrowed" a can of paint from earlier found them, chasing them off and forcing the two of them to take cover. They did, only belatedly realizing they had to come back for their ship since their dream did rely on them fixing up the boat to be in top condition for it to sail. Luckily they didn't take their ship, so the two of them were able to push it back into the alcove they found it, keeping it their own little secret.

Ford looks at it in awe again. In bold letters, "The Stan O' War" stares back at him. Their promise of the future. A future with his brother, forever

"And then— Poindexter are ya listening?!" Stan asks, tapping the stick lightly on Ford's head who swats it away with a laugh.

"Yeah, yeah! I am, I am!"

"Good, cuz you better hear this!" Stan resumes drawing on the sand. Ford looks down, tilting his head quizically.

"Why are we standing on top of the sun?"

"That's an octopus!" Stan points to the pile of squigly lines Ford thought had been the ocean. "See?"

"That's still kinda impossible."

"Aw, shuddap!" Stan scoffs playfully, then proceeds to draw fish tails with long noses and circle ends.  "Of course its possible! This is after I killed it, and we're doin' a victory cheer on top of it!" Stan pumps his fist in the air, and begins chanting, echoing loud across the alcove: "PINES! PINES! PINES! And after—"

"Wait, how did we kill it?"

"I beat it up, duh!"

"What did I do?"

Stan huffs. "You math, science and bored it to death, you big nerd," he says with an annoyed expression, which quickly gives away to snickers as he dodges the fistful of sand Ford throws in his direction, leaving a grainy cloud in its wake. Stan points back at his drawing, at the long nosed fish with lines protruding off the top. Until Ford blinks, and tilts his head again, realizing that the messy scribbles are probably meant to be... "Anyway, after we totally beat this giant octopus monster, all the mermaid babes will be all over us! They'd give us kisses, and hugs, and and–"

Covering his mouth with his hand, Ford snorts loudly. "Stanley... you want to kiss fish ladies?"

An offended look crosses Stan's face, and if it wasn't for the sunburn already staining his and Ford's skin an angry, blistering red, Ford could swear Stan was blushing, his cheeks puffing, brown eyes wide and fists clenching. Cute, Ford thinks, so quickly, he almost doesn't catch it.

But he does.

Just like how his shoulder catches Stan's fists, sending him to more fits of giggling as he goes down.

"Shaddup, shaddup, shut uuuuuuuup," Stan continues his playful assault, clearly trying to not to smile, but Ford's laughter catches him like the infectious bug that went around school three months ago, and his grin stretches wild as he pushes Ford to the ground, and planting himself on Ford's short legs. Ford's hand land on his shoulders, trying and obviously failing at pushing off his stronger brother with all his twelve fingered might, but maybe it's because Ford is laughing too much he's out of breath, chest shaking while he heaves his giggles. Maybe it's the weird but nice heaviness Stan is forcing on him, and Ford counts that as the fifth time this day Stan made him feel that: 'weird but nice.'

Yesterday was seven whole times.

"Get off me, jerk!"

"You're the jerk," Stan argues, catching Ford's hands and pinning them down to the sand, grinning at Ford who's completely caught under him. "You've been making fun of me the whole time!"

"No I wasn't! I think it's cool you wanna kiss fish ladies!"

"They're not fish ladies, Sixer! They're mermaids!" Stan argues, looking a lot like Ford when he exasperatedly explains that solving the daily crossword on the newspaper is not lame, just with the additional large gap between his teeth, bandage on his face, cute puffy cheeks, which almost sends Ford to another laughing fit. "Mermaids are cool! No, they're hot!"

"If you say so," Ford shrugs, feeling the soft grains of sand move against his back. "They'd smell like fish though, but I think you would like that."

"Pfff," Stan lets go and straightens up to blow a raspberry, tilting himself to flop onto the sand next to Ford, moving so his fingers brushed Ford's when at their hips. Sixth. "Like you're any different. I bet you have a lot of weird stuff you wanna kiss too. You're obsessed with your ano– anama—"

"Anamolies."

"Aliens. I bet you wanna kiss aliens."

"No I don't!"

"Yeah, you do!"

"I don't," Ford insists, but he's definitely thought about it. Not in a weird way, of course. He wonders about kissing a lot of things, like growing boys do, like the health developmental sections of science books say so! Girls. Boys sometimes.

Boys most of the time.

A boy, most of the time.

"If you say so," Stan repeats dismissively, stretching his arms over his head while Ford watches behind his glasses. Feeling the sand starting to get to that 'pointy, sticky and annoying' state when someone lays on it, he sits up, eyes landing on the Stan O' War again. Stan follows, quickly sitting up.

"What'cha thinking of?"

"Just wondering the capability of weight distribution on the boat."

"Uh...."

"I wonder if it's actually strong enough to hold us up to sail. We're gonna have to fix that up before we take it to the water, remember? Maybe it's not even built for two people."

The last part came out of his mouth without thinking, and Ford is alarmed with the quick moment of doubt. For a second, their dream seemed a little impossible.

Stan pushes himself up, and runs to the stationed boat.

"Stan? What are you—"

"Keep up, Sixer!" Stan exclaims, grabbing onto the ledge of the boat, and suddenly Ford is running after his brother. All caution thrown out of his system when Stan lifts himself over the edge and on top of the boat's deck effortlessly.

"Stan!"

"Look, Ford, it's fine!" Stan exclaims, arms spread wide and standing victoriously. Ford grabs hold of the ledge, and tries to lift his legs over, only to almost fall off with a "Whoa!"— until Stan's hand latches onto his.

"Hold on," Stan tugs until Ford's body lifts high enough for him to wrap his arms around Ford's shoulders. He grunts, pulling the rest of his twin's body with all his strength before falling onto the deck, Ford landing on top of his legs.

Somehow, they find themselves almost exactly as before, just in reverse, skin still grainy and sticky and hot-red, Ford's chest shaking again but this time it's from panting in the short burst of physical activity. His face close to Stan's, Ford feels a bubbling in his chest, a little tingle all over his skin. One he wants to blame on the summer heat still simmering outside the cave or maybe the sunburn all over his back and torso, but it's not that.

Seventh.

"You're kinda heavy for a stick, Sixer."

Ford punches his shoulder this time, smirking. "Shut up, jerk."

"Now you hate it," Stan comes back smugly, then glances down at the deck. "Hey, look! It can hold the both of us after all!"

Remembering his previous concerns, he looks down on the boat, then raps his knuckles onto the floorboards. It's actually pretty sturdy for how old Ford theorized it to be. That's pretty cool.

"Guess we can cross that out of the stuff we have to fix up," Ford concludes. He pushes his glasses over his nose, thinking deeply again. "Still have a lot of stuff to consider though. Plus, who knows how much bigger we'll get too..." He muses, mostly to himself.

So many to consider... Ford doesn't think even his freakish hands could count all the ways it could go right, or wrong, if it goes anywhere at all... it's kind of big, and open, and Ford thinks it's almost like the ocean itself.

"Eh, don't worry about that stuff so much, Sixer," Stan shrugs, his voice breakjng through Ford's train of thought. Ford realizes he's still very much on Stanley's legs, and maybe it's because all the running, pushing, wrestling they've done all day that completely wrung him out, or maybe it's because the warm bubbling in his chest that overflows and keeps his own legs stuck like sap, but unlike Stan, Ford can't bring himself to move off, move away from Stan. His brown eyes wide, grin with a goofy gap in the teeth and cheeks puffing, Stan looks ready to sail off right then and there.

"As long as you've got me, we can do everything. We're getting out of this place no matter what."

Ford smiles warmly. Somehow he could never get tired doing that around his brother and that's weird. It's nice. His hands find Stan's shoulders, and without thinking, he blurts out:

"Stanley... It wasn't aliens."

"Wait, wha—"

And Ford presses his lips to Stan's. He doesn't really know how to do this. It's kinda gross, with Stan tasting like sand and sweat from rolling around it all day, but so did Ford and getting past that, it just feels good. Almost on instinct, he pulls away panic rising at throat, because Oh no, Stan will think I'm a freak too.

But Stan leans forward too, almost knocking Ford's glasses away and also not knowing what he's doing, but it feels nice. Really, really nice.

Eighth.

Ford thinks he could stay counting those forever.

~~

If you like this send another prompt or a prompt of your own! Hope you liked this anons, be it sufficiently fluffy enough lmao

[crusherthedoctor]

Boo. Still alive. Sorry for the jump scare.

Do not adjust your set, it is indeed me. Like a true arch-enemy, I keep coming back. Since it's my birthday today, I feel ready to give an update on how I've been since my Johnny from The Room moment from last time. This won't be as dramatic as that one... I think.

My extended hiatus has thankfully been giving me the solitude that I was hoping for. Despite things continuing to be thrown my way (including today... long story), I've been better mentally than how I was by the time I checked out from the fandom. And for once, I'm not saying that because it's what people want to hear and I'm nervous of being a burden by continuing to be upset and frustrated. For once, I actually mean it.

Does this mean I'm returning full-time? No. Not anytime soon. I'm enjoying my self-imposed exile too much for that. I said I would tap out for the rest of the Year of Shadow's duration, and I intend to stand by that. Do you think I want to go into intense detail about my SXS Gens opinions during the peak of its hype? Do you think I'm in any rush to participate in IDW Debate #362: The 361st Debate Strikes Back? Nuh-uh, no thank you, go to jail, do not pass go. Why would I want to do that when I can be scandalous with my mutuals instead, like a real philosopher.

However, I also said last time that depending on how 2025 goes, I might return for real by then. As in, depending on whether or not there's anything scheduled for the franchise that I'm fully invested towards, and for the ideal reasons. Regardless of whether that happens though, with the clarity of mind that I have currently compared to how G.U.N. Fortress Dark Route-pilled I was before, I'm thinking I likely will be back at some point next year, even if not immediately into the year. I'll be drawing a lot more lines in the sand in order to prevent the level of overwhelming disillusionment and depression that caused me to go on fandom vacation in the first place, but I'll go into detail about those when the time comes.

Despite the fandom's best efforts, and the current direction's best efforts, I still love the Sonic franchise. I don't know if my last post gave the impression that I was abandoning Sonic completely, but that was never the intention, not even when I made said post. I've still been playing the games I enjoy. I've still been spreading prop-egg-anda. And yes, I've still been toiling away on the green horsie fic. You're welcome and/or my apologies.

So yeah, that about covers it. Now back to not fandom discussing for me lmao.

[ginxyy]

I Found

I found love where it wasn't supposed to be Right in front of me Talk some sense to me

In the dimly lit hotel room, the gentle hum of the city outside seemed to amplify the quiet anticipation that buzzed in the air. You had spent countless nights in these very surroundings, rehearsing your music, pouring your heart out into songs that echoed your innermost thoughts. But tonight was different. Tonight, you were grappling with emotions too big to box up or conceal, emotions that had blossomed quietly over the past year like a delicate flower breaking through the snow.

It all began when you first met Mingyu, his bright smile setting your heart aflame as you navigated the swirling chaos of a music show in Korea. As a singer known across the globe, you had often found yourself surrounded by crowds and cheers, but it was his laughter that rang out clearer than any applause. Late-night conversations quickly turned into shared secrets, and every brief hangout felt like a precious memory tucked away for safekeeping. But there was a boundary neither of you dared to cross friendships forged in the crucible of idol life often risked collapsing under the weight of unspoken desires.

Yet, that night, as you replayed your cover of “I Found” by Amber Run for the sixth time, the lyrics struck a chord deep within you. Each note rose and fell with the rhythm of your heart, a raw tribute to the love you had nurtured for Mingyu a love that flourished yet remained unreturned and unattainable. The vulnerability of your voice echoed the thoughts you had tucked away for far too long, haunting yet liberating. You had poured everything into that cover, hoping the universe would somehow hear you cry out.

After posting it on Instagram, you found yourself staring at the screen, your heart pounding with a mix of hope and dread. The cycles of likes and comments rolled in, yet the one reaction you truly yearned for eluded you. Would he see it? Would Mingyu understand the depth of what you were feeling? You pushed the thoughts aside, retreating into the solace of your hotel room, cocooned by the familiar surroundings that felt warm yet suffocating.

Just as the weight of silence began to settle, a soft knock echoed through the room, jolting you from your thoughts. Your heart raced as you opened the door, and there stood Mingyu, leaning against the frame with an easy grace that made your heart stumble. The way his eyes searched yours made the room shrink, amplifying the space between friendship and something more something that could ignite the very air around you.

You barely caught your breath before he stepped forward, closing the distance, and all at once his lips were on yours. The softness enveloped you, a rush of warmth and yearning that swept through every guarded corner of your heart. It felt like coming home, yet it was wild and uncharted, a dauntless venture into intimacy that had been hidden beneath layers of fear and friendship.

He pulled away slightly, breathless like you, the playful glint in his eye replaced by a seriousness that tugged at your heart. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he confessed, the words spilling out like secrets finally freed. In that moment, the world outside faded into irrelevance. The city lights that twinkled in the distance faded into a promising blur, unable to compete with the reality unfolding between you two.

"Why didn’t you say something?” The question danced between you, cautiously but desperately.

“I didn’t want to risk what we had,” he said softly, but you could sense the weight of his unspoken fears. “But your song... it made me realize that we both feel the same way. That we can’t keep pretending anymore.”

Emotion surged within you, transforming your resolve into a reckoning that bubbled to the surface. In his arms, the boundaries of friendship and love blurred like the lines between night and day. You had spent so long resisting the current that was drawing you together, and now, standing before him, you felt the tide shift in your favor. The truth of your love for Mingyu could no longer be contained.

For that moment, you were two souls entwined in the fragile dance of new beginnings. Uncertainty lay ahead, but you had crossed into an uncharted territory infused with hope a realm where dreams and love collided, giving birth to something remarkably beautiful. And as his lips found yours once again, the world faded into a distant memory, leaving only the exhilarating sigh of promise and the promise of tomorrow alive in the spaces between your heartbeats.

[slavhew]

jakey + dirkjake sandwiched between my organic chem notes. a poem in there somewhere

[puppyeared]

Design notes (+ a little Portal clownery)

[meymey-draws]

Day 25 - Iconic Coaches

I really didn't know who to chose, but I hope the Bride is iconic enough😭

[plutotheplum]

Red Tape

mma fighter!sylus x manager!reader

summary: the man you're in charge of is somewhat of a handful (...and a mouthful).

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, modern au, smut, vaginal fingering, kissing, dirty talk, oral sex - m! and f!receiving, praise kink, p in v, masturbation, size difference, size kink, mild choking

wc: 8.8k

a/n: pulled his grasslands card and nghhh he's so fine and big. lowkey think i wrote too much. hope you guys like it! <3

also on ao3!

The sounds of limbs colliding and loud grunts of exertion fill the air as you step inside the training gym.

You let your eyes scan the expanse of it, eyes narrowing to try and find the white-haired man you’re in charge of. You eventually spot him, red tape wrapped around his hands as he works with his trainer, throwing punches of varying strength against the boxing pads.

Heels clacking against the floor, you approach Sylus, standing off to the side as you watch him train. His moves are calculated and sharp, never allowing for any stray hits to pass through. It’s how Sylus has managed to stay at the top of the rankings for the past few years. He had risen quickly, his strength and technique acknowledged by those around him, supporters and rivals alike. 

You’d been his manager for a total of two years. It’d been outlined in a fortunate job posting that you’d deemed interesting enough to apply for. Back then you had wondered whether he’d be difficult, but Sylus was annoying at most and actually acknowledged your judgement. 

“How am I looking?” Sylus calls out to you, stepping away from his trainer and grabbing a bottle of cold water to press against his neck.

“Good,” you reply, watching as he steps out from under the ropes of the boxing ring, his tall frame approaching yours.

“Just good?” he asks, peering down at you.

You roll your eyes, reaching for his hand to undo the tape that covers his fingers. “Fine. Better than good. We both know you’re at the top of your form these days.”

Sylus hums in agreement, his fingers flexing once you unwrap the tape. You do the same for his other hand, gathering the discarded tape and rolling it up into a ball. He drinks down the bottle of cold water, throat bobbing as he does so.

“Who am I up against tonight?” Sylus asks, slumping down into a nearby chair.

His muscles are taut from training, a sheen of sweat covering his body. You can’t look away when he pulls his tank top over his head, the muscles of his abdomen flexing as he reaches for a towel to sling around the back of his neck and wipe his face dry.

“First few matches should be fine,” you tell him, drawing your eyes away from his sculpted body to look down at your phone, “final match might be a little hard. Xavier.”

Sylus sighs, running his hand through his damp hair as he glances at you. “He’s fast.” 

“Not as fast as you,” you say, shaking your head.

He grins, leaning towards you. “It’s sweet my manager has such faith in me,” he drawls.

You shoot him an unimpressed look, pushing his head back when he gets a little too close for comfort, his crimson eyes boring into yours intently. 

“I’m more concerned about my paycheck.”

“I make you twice as much money than you would at a shitty desk job,” Sylus replies, thighs  spreading as he gets comfortable.

“Try making it triple,” you grin back at him, tossing him another bottle of water as you stand up. 

Sylus catches it effortlessly, pressing it against his forehead this time. He slouches a little more and you dig through his bag beside you, handing him a protein bar. You let your gaze drift as he rests, watching as the other men train in the gym. 

Some throw punches, others duck to avoid getting hit. You were well aware of the fact that Sylus had his own personal boxing ring, and yet he preferred to train here, in front of other men. An intimidation tactic or simply personal preference, you didn’t know. All in all, you were grateful that Sylus’ performance was consistent. You hardly had to involve yourself, a new rush of sponsorships flooding your email in the days following his matches. 

“Remember to rest,” you say to him when he stands up and rolls his shoulders, his muscles rippling.

“I’m a professional,” Sylus replies dryly, his hand landing on your head heavily as he grants you a few pats.

You scoff, swatting his hand away, trying to smooth down the strands of your hair. The view of his bare, broad back is appreciated however, your greedy eyes following the boxer as he slips past the ropes of the boxing ring again. It doesn't exactly fall under the job description to ogle the man you’re in charge of, but Sylus is unfairly handsome, and innocent glances never hurt anyone.

-

The thrum of the arena is electrifying. 

You can feel the beat of the music match the pulse of your heart as you stand outside Sylus' locker room, checking your phone every now and then. The door swings open after a few moments and you step inside, finding Sylus sitting on the steel bench. 

His legs bounce, his hands clasped together, head hanging low. All boxers had their own ritual, and you weren’t about to interrupt his. Instead, you strike up a quiet conversation with his trainer, waiting for Sylus to finish up.

Sylus waves you over after a few moments and you’re already undoing the red tape from its roll, winding it around his fingers so that it sticks properly. He flexes his fingers experimentally, giving you a nod and you move to his other hand, fingers brushing against his.

“Take it easy out there,” you murmur, lifting his hand to smooth out the creases in the tape.

“I always take it easy,” Sylus says, sending you a devilish grin.

It’s not exactly true. Sylus likes to show off, you think he might like the thrill of it. Carefully placed embellished hits do make for great television after all. 

“Besides,” he continues, his hands wrapping around the back of your thighs to pull you between his legs, “I have my lucky charm with me.”

You let out an awkward laugh, squirming out of his grasp although he seems reluctant to let go. His trainer seems to catch the little interaction between you, and you clear your throat, taking another step back.

“Manager. I’m your manager .”

“You can be both,” he retorts, standing up.

Sylus bounces on the balls of his feet for a few moments, his shoulders rolling and head tilting to get rid of any cricks in his neck. He pulls the hood of his jacket over his head, snowy hair disappearing, his face darkening. An announcement blares through the locker room and he’s moving out, with you and the rest of his team trailing after him.

You’ve lost count of how many matches of his you’ve attended, but somehow the nerves don’t ease, the knot of uncertainty tightening in your stomach. He’s more than capable of handling the blows hurled at him but there’s a part of you that can’t help but worry about an opponent playing dirty and landing a blow that he can’t recover from.

He excels through the first stages as expected. Most of his opponents for the first few rounds are amateurs at most, making clumsy mistakes that end up giving Sylus an opening to finish them off. 

Xavier is more of a challenge. He’s quick on his feet, easily sidestepping and making short, sharp jabs that have Sylus keeping his distance. You wince when Xavier lands a blow to Sylus’ face, hard enough to make his lip split. Blood runs down his chin, but Sylus is catching the rivulets of blood with his tongue and finding your eyes through the sea of faces, his grin cocky albeit bloody. 

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. His eyes glint at the challenge, your warning to “take it easy” all but forgotten as he lands a heavy punch to Xavier’s abdomen. Xavier stumbles back, doubling over in pain but he straightens out just as quickly.

A few more punches are thrown, but Sylus wins the first round, thankfully. He’s waving you over during the rest period, crouching down. 

You lean forward, letting him whisper into your ear, the sheer loudness of the crowd making it difficult to hear him.

“Need you to fix my tape.”

You nod, pulling off his boxing gloves and undoing the tape around his fingers to wrap it a bit tighter.

“Better?” you ask, peering up at him.

Sylus nods, and you motion for him to bend his head a little more. You press a damp towelette against his split lip. He hisses at the feeling, jaw clenching.

“He’s weak on his left-side,” you murmur, wiping away the blood that’s dripped down his chin.

“You’re not one to give me tips,” he says.

“Seems like you need it,” you whisper, “you’re performing poorly, Sylus.” 

That seems to set him off a little, his brows furrowing for a moment before he schools his features back into something more neutral. He reaches out for you, his large hand cupping your cheek. Your eyes widen, trying to take a step back but it’s too late, your flushed face is being broadcast on the large screens.

The crowd seems just as surprised as you are, the raucous chatter quietening for a moment as they watch. 

His lips brush over your ear as he speaks, his breath warm and heavy. “I’ll make you triple.”

Sylus lets go of you, and you shoot a wane smile to the camera that’s been trained on you both. It’s convincing enough for the crowd to lose attention as the second round starts.

As the match drags on, it becomes evident as to what Sylus is doing. He’s toying with his opponent, letting Xavier think he has the upper hand when really it’s Sylus that’s controlling the pace. Sylus lets Xavier get one last hit in before he’s retaliating, hard and fast, his opponent’s body crumpling to the floor. When Xavier fails to rise, cheers erupt, Sylus’ name being chanted throughout the arena, crazed fans jumping up and down as the referee holds his arm up.

There’s sweat dripping from Sylus’ brow when you find him back in the locker room. The reporters had loved his post-fight interview, his smug grin supersized on the large screens in the arena. A medic kneels beside him, examining his body carefully to eliminate the possibility of any injuries worsening.

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?” you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest.

Sylus smiles, his head tipped back, resting against the tiled wall. “I won, didn’t I?”

Frustration pricks at your skin and your eyes narrow, feeling tempted to slap the stupid smile right off of his face.

“Don’t be like that,” Sylus coos, brushing off the medic attending to him without a second glance and reaching for you. “You wanted triple, I made you triple.”

“I- I wasn’t being serious !” you hiss, trying to tug your wrist free.

Sylus’ grip only tightens, tugging you down so that your face nears his. You swallow harshly, his scarlet eyes somehow brighter under the light.

“You said I was performing poorly,” he murmurs, “I did what you wanted.��� His fingers unfurl, stroking the inside of your wrist. The hint of a smirk plays on the side of his mouth when he sees how rigid you’ve become. “Besides,” his voice lowers a bit more so as to stop others from hearing, “you liked it when I smiled at you.”

His fingers smooth over your skin a few more times, dragging down to spread across the expanse of your palm. Sylus can spot the haze that glosses over your eyes, the way you extend your arm towards him slightly, chasing more of his touch. 

You think you could’ve stayed like that forever if not for his physical therapist that’s bundled inside the locker room, pushing you aside. His fingers fall away from yours and you snatch your hand back, tucking it behind your back. Sylus looks like he wants to say something, but you’re turning on your heel to escape the oppressive atmosphere, feeling as though you’ve been smothered. 

The cool night air is welcome when you burst through the doors of the arena, chest rising as you take in a deep lungful to calm the storm of emotions swirling in your mind. It’s a strictly professional relationship, you remind yourself, muttering under your breath and nodding along to your rampant thoughts to soothe yourself.

“Professional,” you whisper, staring at your hand as though it were a traitor, “I am a professional .”

Your fingers tingle in response, the phantom sensation of his fingers spreading out across your wrist. A sharp scoff leaves you, wiping your hand against your skirt. Unfortunately, your mind is all over the place and remembering Sylus’ bloody grin is enough to send a rush of heat through your body. 

The sound of someone’s shoes shuffling in the distance has your ears perking up, but you don’t pay it any mind, too frustrated with yourself. Sylus is irritating, but it doesn’t stop your heart from racing whenever you think about him. You’d never meant for the stupid, little crush to flourish into something bigger, but ever since he’d asked you to stick around, things had gotten complicated.

Truth is, Sylus hadn’t lost a single match ever since you’d begun to wrap his hands for him. It’s why he has you wrap them now, every match without fail. You didn’t exactly believe in this superstition of his, but he was adamant, refusing to fight unless it was you that was winding the red tape around his fingers. 

The scuffling noise grows louder and your brows furrow, trying to spot where it’s coming from.

“Ya lookin’ really pretty, miss,” a raspy voice sounds, an unfamiliar man stepping out of the dark.

The stench of tobacco is strong and you’re taking a step back, sending him an uneasy smile. He smiles back, yellowed teeth becoming visible, and you fight a grimace, trying to stop your lip from curling up in disgust. You spy the automatic doors from the corner of your eye, but the man reaches for you before you can make it to safety, holding onto you tight.

“Let me go!” you say, sounding panicked.

He only grunts, trying to pull you towards him. You pull back, gritting your teeth when his fingers dig into you.

“Ease up, pretty,” the man leers.

If anything, this whole situation was Sylus’ fault. You’re angry at yourself, at Sylus, and now at this disgusting man who was trying to take advantage of you.

“You’re pathetic,” your voice is a harsh hiss, fear giving way to resentment. 

“Now, that is not very nice,” he replies, “why don’t you smile for me? A real one this time.”

Your eye twitches at the sheer audacity of his words, teeth gritting together. You’ve never punched anyone before, but tonight might be a good time to start. 

“Fuck you.” 

Before your fist can land, there’s a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back gently. You don’t have to look to know who it is. Sylus’ arm shoots out instead, punching the man in the face. He staggers back, tripping over his own feet and landing on the floor with a heap. Blood wets his hand and he groans, clutching his nose. You hope it’s broken. 

“You okay?” Sylus murmurs, stepping in front of you and blocking the man from sight.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, frowning. “I was handling it.”

“I’m sure you were,” he says lightly, gaze dipping over you.

The man makes a noise of disgruntlement, a security guard hauling the man up onto his feet. You try to poke your head out from Sylus’ side, but he doesn’t let you, holding your wrist to distract you. He smooths his fingers over where the man had been gripping you, his touch firm and insistent, soothing the reddened imprints on your skin.

“Let me take you home,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers brushing against yours gently.

“I can take care of myself,” you retort.

Sylus doesn’t let you escape this time, tucking your hair behind your ear before he’s guiding you towards his bike. 

“Wait! Were you even cleared?”

“I’m not injured,” Sylus says, shoving a helmet down over your head. 

“But- but my car!” you protest.

“I’ll have Luke and Kieran take care of it.”

The mention of the twins makes it more likely for something to go wrong. There’s a good chance they’ll end up totalling your car, or losing your belongings. You don’t even know why Sylus took them on, but they had succeeded in becoming unofficial trainees under Sylus’ guidance. 

You shake your head stubbornly, pushing the helmet up. Sylus doesn’t let you, his hand shoving it back down before he’s picking you up and setting you down on his bike.

“I’m your manager!” you grouse in a last ditch effort.

“I’m well aware,” Sylus replies, swinging his leg over his bike.

You squeal when he takes off, arms wrapping around his middle tightly, eyes squeezing shut as the wind whips around you. He knows where your apartment is, having visited a few times when you’d asked him to stop by to sign some pressing paperwork.

His bike slows to a soft purr as it stops by the curb outside your apartment complex. His bike is annoyingly difficult to dismount and you grunt, struggling. You manage to land, although on shaky feet, your knees buckling for a moment. Sylus laughs, catching you by the waist before you hit the floor. The heat of his body has your breath hitching, your hands resting on his broad shoulders for stability.

“You’re too clumsy,” he murmurs, squeezing your sides gently, “take it easy.”

“Really?” you roll your eyes when he uses your own words against you.

“Really.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again, voice softening.

All you can do is nod, heart fluttering at the gentle look in his eyes. He stares at you for a moment longer, trying to determine whether you’re lying. When you don’t say anything, he pulls you closer, his hands rubbing up and down your waist soothingly.

“I didn’t mean it,” you mumble out, feeling shy, “you- you were great tonight.”

“Yeah?”

You hum in response, giving him another nod. Sylus’ hands drift lower, past the line of professionalism. He stares down at you, his head tilting. Your lungs seem to have lost their ability to function at full capacity, quick, uneven breaths leaving you as your hands tighten into his jacket. 

“What are you doing?” you whisper, voice barely audible when the tip of his nose brushes yours.

“Determining your wellbeing,” Sylus says smoothly. 

“I’m fine, seriously.”

“Your cheeks are flushed and your chest is heaving” he whispers. Sylus’ hand has begun to wander, tracing down your neck, pushing apart the collar of your blouse to trail lower, his eyes drinking in your cleavage hungrily. He lets out a low laugh when you twitch in his arms. “You seem... unwell .”

“I’m fine !” you push away from his chest, patting your hot cheeks to try and cool them.

He raises his brows silently, but follows you into your apartment complex all the same, despite your protests. Something about ensuring your safety. Thankfully, he keeps his distance when he steps into the elevator with you, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. 

The air is tense and you sneak a glance up at him to find him staring back at you. Your gaze snaps back, embarrassment rushing through your body, wishing the floor would just do you a favor and swallow you up.

Sylus doesn’t come in when you open the door, watching as you kick off your heels and rub at your sore ankles. He just stares , leaning against the doorframe. 

“Thank you,” you say, breaking through the awkwardness of the air, “for bringing me home and- and taking care of that guy, but I definitely had it handled.”

He gives you a lazy smile, his head dropping to rest against the doorframe as well. 

“You're welcome.”

“Okay, well, you- you can go now,” you say, gesturing with your hands and pushing at his chest to get him to leave.

Sylus doesn’t budge, his lips pursing as he stares down at you. The height difference is all the more noticeable since you’ve taken off your heels. His hand reaches out, landing on your waist.

“Come see me.”

“ What ?”

“Come see me,” Sylus repeats, “I’ll teach you how to punch.”

“I- I don’t need to learn how to punch,” you sputter, shaking your head vehemently. 

“If you had punched that man, you would’ve broken your thumb,” he murmurs, his hand sliding up your neck to cup your cheek. “You need me.”

You can’t help your eyes from fluttering shut, leaning into the warmth of his palm. Sylus lets you, his thumb running over your cheek gently. You find that he’s gotten closer when you open your eyes, his lips parted. Rising up on the tips of your toes, you let your nose nudge his, wanting him to kiss you, consequences be damned.

Sylus smiles, a soft laugh leaving him when he pulls back, drawing up to his full height. “You’re my manager.”

You’re too stunned to reply, unable to get any words out as you watch him walk back towards the elevator. He gives a wave of his fingers, disappearing from sight. You stare at the empty hallway for a moment, letting out a frustrated scoff and scrubbing your hand over your face. 

Exhaustion weighs your body down and you’re crawling into bed after showering, tugging the blankets up over yourself. The incessant ache between your thighs keeps you from falling asleep and you’re acutely aware of how empty you feel.

It’s why your hand is creeping down into your sleep shorts, a soft noise spilling into the quiet air when you find you’re already wet. Sylus’ face flashes through your mind, and instead of pushing it away, you focus on it. You rub your clit, slowly at first, savoring the sensation as you imagine his lazy smile.

The image shifts however, and now you’re imagining him between your thighs, your hand in his white hair as he licks over your cunt. It has your back arching, fingers rubbing against your clit faster as you moan.

“Fuck,” you whimper, stroking over your clit gently, the sensation making your thighs twitch.

Your imagination has begun to run rampant, imagining his fingers digging into your hips as he fucks into you, his mouth on your body, on your lips, against your ear whispering filth. You stuff two fingers into your pussy, fucking them in and out desperately. You have no doubt Sylus’ fingers would reach deeper. 

You need him, you need him desperately . You think about him shoving your face into the pillows, palming your ass and sinking his cock into you. You think about his body flush against yours, his hands stroking your hair as he humps his hips into you. He’s just so big , his weight on top of yours would most likely make you lose your mind. Slick pours out of your cunt rapidly, whimpers filling in the air with how sensitive you’ve become.

“Sylus!” you moan his name as you cum, body shuddering.

Panting, you stare up at the ceiling, a frustrated whine slipping out of you when you realize how pathetically you’re acting. The haze of your orgasm doesn’t let your mind linger on the thought for any longer, your eyes drooping shut as you fall asleep.

-

You’re too weak to resist.

It’s how you’ve ended up here, inside his personal boxing ring, with him adjusting the tape on your hands. He’d suggested boxing gloves, but they’d kept slipping off with how big they were.

Your body stiffens when he steps up behind you. Sylus has you feeling like a fool as you hold your arms up, bent at the elbows, hands curled into fists. You meet his gaze through the mirror and he simply smirks, his chest pressing against your back as he fixes your form.

“Thumbs outside,” he murmurs, prying your fist open to tug your thumb free, “you’ll break them otherwise.”

“I really don’t think this is necessary,” you mutter, tensing when his fingers trail down your side.

“Self-defense is always necessary,” he replies.

You bite back a whine when his large hand curls around your hip, his palm pushing gently as he gets you to shift your stance.

“When you throw a punch, you have to pivot,” Sylus says, his other hand dropping to the other side of your hips. “Keep your shoulders relaxed, if you’re too tense the hit won’t be as powerful.”

You can’t exactly relax when he’s hovering behind you. Sylus squeezes your hips and you don't know whether he’s actually trying to teach you or whether he’s simply being a horrible man and setting off your poor touch-starved body. 

“Wrist straight,” he continues, stepping away. “Put your body weight into it, and remember to pivot, okay?”

A simple nod is all that leaves you and he stands in front of you, holding his hands up. You can’t help but feel insulted.

“At least put the boxing pads on,” you mutter, feeling miffed.

“Hit me,” Sylus orders instead.

You lean forward, hips twisting as you put as much of your body weight into the punch as you can, shoulder rippling forward as you punch his hand.

“What are you trying to hurt, a fly?” he drawls, shooting you an unimpressed look. “Again.”

“I could have your reputation ruined,” you hiss back, adjusting your position. You let your hips pivot again, cheeks flushed with irritation as your arm shoots forward, punching his hand.

“Better.”

A satisfied huff sounds and you cross your arms over your chest triumphantly. It’s the little things in life, you think. Sylus rolls his eyes, his finger nudging at your forehead.

“Let’s just hope you don’t run into any more unsavory characters.”

“There’s plenty of other ways to defend myself,” you retort. “Pepper spray, tasers, and well, men always tend to have a weakness.” You point to the spot between his thighs.

Sylus looks down to where you’re gesturing, a laugh breaking out of him when he realizes what you’re implying. 

“Not always,” he says and your eyes widen when he suddenly approaches you. Sylus places his hand over your mouth, spinning you around so that he’s practically draped over your back. “Get out of this.”

It’s hard to move when he has you pinned against him like this, but you shift your arm, driving your elbow back into his side hard . Sylus grunts, his grip loosening on you just for a moment. It’s the fraction of a second that you need, leg lifting as you stomp his foot harshly. He lets out a pained groan, and your leg kicks out again, landing a blow to his knee. 

Sylus buckles onto the mat of the boxing ring and part of you can’t believe you’ve managed to bring him down. You hover over him, almost feeling bad for the man as he clutches his knee.

A sigh of a feigned dramatics leaves you, a satisfied expression creeping up onto your face. “You know, you did tell me to get out- ah! ” You shriek when he grabs your arm, tugging you down. Your legs give way and you land on the mat in a heap, letting out a pained noise.

“Celebrated too early,” he murmurs, “once your attacker is down, you run .”

You grunt in annoyance, ignoring his hand when he offers it as he stands up. Sylus waits for a few moments longer, letting out a soft laugh before he hauls you up by your elbow, setting you on your feet.

He lowers his head to check if there’s any damage to your face, invading your personal space. Your head leans back as his face moves closer until you can feel the heat of his breath fanning across your skin. 

“Stop it,” you mutter, taking a step back.

You’re too clumsy for your own good however, losing your footing at the edge of the boxing ring. A squeak escapes you, arms flailing for a bit as you feel yourself beginning to slip, the ropes sliding down your back. Sylus reaches for you before you can fall, tugging you towards him. 

“Careful,” he chastises. 

Sylus’ hand smooths over your hair, brushing it away from your face. Your breath hitches when he cups your cheeks, tilting your head up.

“Stop- stop doing that,” you whisper, “stop touching me.”

“I don’t want to,” Sylus murmurs, his arm wrapping around your waist, “stop fighting me.”

You send him a half-hearted glare and he smirks, drawing you closer until you’re flush against his body.

“You wanted it last night,” he continues, mouth hovering above yours, “give in.”

His stare is blistering and it’s almost as though Sylus can see through you, though you’re not sure whether you’re ready for that yet. Your head shakes stubbornly and he lets go of you, letting out a sigh.

You watch as he shrugs off his shirt, his muscles flexing. Unspoken words sit on the tip of your tongue, but he’s leaving the boxing ring. The sound of his fist colliding with the punching bag echoes through the room and you stand there awkwardly, watching as the punching bag rattles under the force of his punches.

“Should I leave?” you call out meekly once you’ve managed to get out of the boxing ring yourself.

“Stay,” Sylus replies, glancing back at you, “we aren’t done.”

His words sound foreboding enough to have you squirming in place. Sylus hits that stupid punching bag countless times, to the point where even your emails aren’t keeping you interested. 

Sweat covers his taut muscles as he approaches you, his hand running through his hair. You find your eyes fixated on his biceps, how broad his shoulders are and how big he is. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs.

“Like what?” you ask breathlessly.

He reaches out, his fingers squishing your cheeks together. “Like you want me to fuck you.”

Well, he’s not exactly wrong . You stare at him for a moment longer, heart racing in your chest. All your previous reasons to not pursue something with him have begun to fail you, your stubbornness being chipped away as he runs his thumb over your lips.

“I do,” you say, voice hoarse, “I do want you to fuck me.”

Sylus grins, his eyes flashing dangerously at your confession. The sweat on his body seeps into your clothes when he pushes you up against the wall, but you don’t care, hands spreading across his firm chest, a soft whine slipping out of you.

“Why the change in mind?” he coos, his thumb brushing over your lips again.

“Do I need a reason?” you whisper, opening your mouth and sucking his thumb into your mouth.

Surprise flits across his face and he lets out a deep laugh, pushing his thumb into your mouth further. Your eyes flutter shut, tongue swirling around his digit, before lapping at the pad of his thumb playfully. He kisses your cheek, trailing hungry kisses down your neck, hand squeezing at your waist roughly.

“Always look so fuckin’ pretty,” he rasps, pulling his thumb free from the confines of your mouth.

His body is warm against yours, his hands groping at your ass, squeezing at the fat appreciatively. You whimper, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, eager for his mouth on yours.

“Wanted to do this at the match,” Sylus murmurs, “on the big screens. Could’ve shown everyone how good my manager is for me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you reply, tilting your head as he kisses along your jaw, “that- ah- that would’ve caused a scandal.”

“The things I want to do to you would cause a bigger scandal,” he says, smiling down at you.

You’re weak for it, the lazy curl of his lips, the low drawl of his voice. You tug him down a little more and press a heated kiss to the corner of his mouth. His eyes bore into yours and he lets out an amused huff, stroking his thumb over the curve of your cheek before finally slotting his lips over yours. 

Sylus works his lips against yours, hand cupping the back of your head to draw you closer to him. He maneuvers you as he pleases, your hands sliding down to rest against his bare chest, rising up on the tips of your toes.

He hisses suddenly, pulling away and you frown, brows furrowing. Sylus touches his still healing split lip, running his tongue over it.

"Sorry," you wince.

"I'm fine," he murmurs, lowering his head, "kiss me, sweetie."

"Oh, I don't think-"

Sylus doesn't let you finish. You’re both stumbling together, bumping into a wall every so often as he kisses you all the way to his bedroom, his hands roving over you. Biting your lip, you push at his chest, smiling when he falls down onto the bed, flat on his back.

Sylus shifts, propping his arm behind his head to watch you. You’ve never felt this adventurous before, but you’re pulling your shirt off slowly, giving him a show. His eyes darken when you take off your bra, taking in your breasts and pebbled nipples. 

“Tease,” he murmurs when you pinch your nipples.

You take your shorts off next, hooking your thumbs into your panties to shimmy them off when he stops you.

“Keep them on,” Sylus says, voice laden with lust. “C’mere, baby.”

You crawl over him and Sylus drags you into another kiss, brushing your hair back. He squeezes at your ass a few times, groaning into your mouth as he feels your tits squished up against his chest.

“Hi,” you whisper, nosing against his cheek.

“Hey,” he says hoarsely, hands caressing your hips.

You can feel how hard he is through his shorts, the straining imprint of it against your skin. Sylus doesn’t let you touch his cock though, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and moving your jaw to guide you into a kiss. 

A soft whimper escapes you when you feel his fingers brush your panties, pressing a little firmer until he’s rubbing your cunt through your panties. Sylus’ kisses grow sloppier, spit leaking from the sides of your mouths until he’s pushing your panties to the side and spreading your folds with his fingers.

“ Fuck ,” you mewl, pulling away from his ravenous mouth to rock your hips back into his fingers.

“So wet, sweetie,” Sylus whispers, tongue darting out to lick over your lower lip, “all for me, hm?”

You nod, hand squeezing at his shoulder. He smiles against your lips and you kiss him, fingers in his hair whilst your other hand wanders over his chest and abdomen. 

Sylus sinks a finger into you, and your suspicions are confirmed, his fingers do reach deeper. He keeps you on the edge, alternating between rubbing at your clit and sinking a finger into you from time to time.

“Sylus,” you whine, pouting, “wanna cum.”

“Knew you’d be this whiny,” Sylus says, rubbing your clit faster, spreading your slick over your cunt.

That catches you off-guard. “You- you thought about me?” you ask breathily.

“All the time,” he groans, “always so fuckin’ good to me. Had to stop myself from getting hard every time you taped my hands.”

You let out a strangled moan at his confession, pressing yourself closer and smashing your lips onto his. He grunts, cupping the back of your neck to kiss you back just as feverishly, bullying another finger into your pussy.

Sylus licks into your mouth and you suck on his tongue, tugging lightly at the strands. He doesn’t let anymore spit drip, licking it up from your chin and pushing it back into your mouth. 

“ Ah- ” you pant, eyes rolling back as he curls his fingers, thrusting them in and out of you.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, kissing your cheek, “taking my fingers so well.”

His thumb joins in on the onslaught, rubbing over your clit until you’re twitching and letting out ragged gasps. 

Sylus moves you onto your back suddenly, his hands pulling your panties down and pushing your thighs up so that your cunt is on display for him. He groans at the sight, drinking in the glistening folds of your pussy.

Thumbing them apart, he groans again, watching the clench of your aching hole around nothing. 

“Pretty pussy,” Sylus whispers, lowering his head to lick a stripe up your wet, slick pussy, “prettiest fuckin’ pussy ever, sweetie.”

He slips two of his fingers back into your pussy, crimson eyes finding yours as he kisses your clit gently. You smile hazily, running your fingers through his hair and rolling your hips up so he can kiss your clit again.

Sylus’ mouth latches onto your cunt before long, licking through the folds before sucking your clit into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the swollen bud and flicking at it. You gasp, drinking in a shuddering breath of air as he squeezes your thighs and draws back to spit on your cunt.

“Don’t stop,” you whimper, pressing his head back down, “Sylus, don’t stop.”

He huffs out a breath against your pussy, a half-laugh. Sylus doesn’t deny you though, dutifully carrying out his role, eating you out roughly. You squeal when he shoves his tongue into your pussy, fucking it in and out you for a few moments before his mouth is finding your clit again, teeth grazing the sensitive bud.

You twitch, tugging at his hair harder, letting out another squeal when he squeezes your breast roughly, his other hand tweaking at your hard nipple.

“‘m gonna cum,” you say, voice wavering, “ fuck , ‘m gonna cum !”

Sylus looks up at you, and it’s just like you imagined. His red eyes stare at you intently and the eye contact coupled with his tongue stroking over your clit is enough to have you crying out, body writhing as you cum on his tongue.

He hums into your cunt, holding you still as you try to escape his still working mouth, hands smoothing over your sides. Sylus laps over your cunt as you cum, drinking up your slick greedily, pulling away with a few soft pecks to your clit and inner thighs.

“You’re insane,” you mumble, cupping his cheek to kiss him.

Hand slipping lower, you grasp him through his shorts, reveling in the little gasp he lets out. From what you can feel, he’s long and thick , his cock throbbing through the fabric.

He helps you pull his shorts off, and your breath gets stuck in your throat, eyes fixated on his cock. Sylus is thick and big , and you think your poor pussy might split if he tries to stuff it inside of you.

“Not going to fit,” you whisper, voicing your concerns.

Sylus smirks, pulling you by the arm to kiss your cheek. “I’ll make it fit.”

Red, hot arousal runs through you at his words and you lean forward to kiss him again. Sylus runs his fingers through your hair, gathering the strands in a fist as you shift lower and press a kiss to the head of his cock.

Pre-cum drips from the tip and your tongue darts out, lapping it up so as to not waste a single drop. Sylus breathes heavily and you smile up at him, letting your tongue loll out.

“Brat,” he says, grasping the base of his cock before smacking the length of his cock against your tongue a few times, “this what you want?”

You nod, holding your tongue out obediently before licking up the length of it, tracing a throbbing vein. Your tongue swirls around the head, and Sylus moans, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he watches your mouth envelop his cock. 

It’s a struggle to not let your teeth graze the sensitive skin of his cock, but you do your best, sinking your head down more, lips stretched around the fatness of his cock. 

“Tap my thigh if it’s too much,” Sylus whispers, pushing your head gently.

Tears prick at your eyes, feeling his cock go deeper, air being sucked in through your nose as your throat swallows around him. 

“ Shit ,” he hisses, fingers spreading out across your scalp, “just like that, baby.”

You whine, nails digging into his thigh, taking him to the hilt as your nose buries into the white hair at the base of his cock. Sylus moans loudly and you pull off, catching your breath by opting to place little kisses along the length of his cock. 

Licking up the length of his cock again, you suck the head of it into your mouth, head bobbing shallowly as you hollow your cheeks and suck. Sylus mutters out quiet curses, his hand smoothing over your hair when his grip loosens. The weight of his cock on your tongue has your eyes drooping, your half-lidded gaze peering up into his aroused one.

His cock jerks against your lips, more pre-cum falling from his cock in fat globs. You catch them with your tongue, licking over the head of his cock and the leaking tip. His cum is addictive, the taste heady as you rub your lips across his tip, kissing at the flared head of his cock.

His thighs twitch and you giggle drunkenly, kissing his hip.

Sylus reaches down, cupping your cheek to kiss you, uncaring of the taste of his cum in your mouth. You whine, hand wrapping around his fat cock to stroke him, the sinful sounds filling the room as he wraps his hand around your throat to hold you in place while he kisses you. 

“I didn’t take my manager for a whore,” he whispers, breath fanning across your lips.

“‘s your fault,” you reply, kissing him sweetly, wrist rotating as you jerk him off.

Sylus pants into your mouth, his hand tightening around your throat. You whine lowly, eyes fluttering shut when he kisses you messily, his hips bucking into your hand.

“My pretty, little whore,” Sylus says, squeezing your neck before letting go.

“Yours,” you agree, nose nudging against his affectionately.

Sylus kisses you slower this time, his hand cradling the back of your head. It’s tender enough to stop you from stroking his cock, your mind turning to mush with how gently he’s kissing you.

You can hear your lips smacking together, his hand rubbing up and down your back, his other hand drifting to circle your swollen clit again. You whine quietly, nuzzling into his cheek.

“Want me to fill you up, baby?” Sylus murmurs, his hand squeezing at your ass, “make you go brainless on my cock?”

“ Yes !” you sound your want, gripping his shoulder. “Please, please! Want- want your cock so bad, Sylus. I want you!”

He groans at the sheer need in your voice, and you roll over onto your stomach when he lets you, arching your back and pushing your ass up into the air.

“Sweetie,” Sylus rasps, spanking your ass, “ fuck- so fuckin’ good to me.”

You shove your face into a pillow, muffling your squeal when he shoves his face into your cunt, licking over your slick folds. Sylus spanks your ass again before kissing and biting at the reddened skin, leaving the imprints of his teeth on your ass. 

He’s kind enough to shove a pillow under your hips, the thoughtful action making your heart flutter wildly. The press of his cock against your pussy is enough to have you moaning again, hips rocking back to try and get the head of it to slip inside.

“Needy baby,” Sylus whispers, draping himself over your back to kiss your shoulder. “My cock-hungry slut.”

“ Oh- oh fuck ,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he wraps his arm around you neck.

“Good girl,” Sylus whispers, kissing your cheek as his arm tightens.

You coo happily, turning your head to kiss the bulge of his bicep, feeling all rational thought leave your mind as nuzzle against his warm skin. He laughs hoarsely, brushing another kiss to your shoulder, hand kneading the fat of your hip.

“Put it in,” you demand, pussy empty and aching for his cock.

“Be patient,” Sylus admonishes, his fingers stroking over your pussy again. “I need a condom.”

“N-no!” Your protest comes out entirely too quickly and Sylus pauses his movements. You grumble, looking back at him. “I- I mean, I’m on birth control and I’m clean… please, Sylus?”

Sylus raises his brows, peering down at you. “Yeah? You want my cock raw, baby? Wanna feel every inch filling you up?”

You nod, a contented sigh leaving you, your lips drifting across the corded muscle of his forearm as he plays with your cunt, pushing his fingers in one last time before he grasps his cock. You whine, teeth sinking into his bicep as Sylus pushes his cock in slowly.

The sheets of his bed are in disarray with how you’re clawing at them, feeling his thick cock stretch you out. 

“Too- too much!” you hiccup, squirming under him.

“Nearly there,” Sylus whispers, squeezing his arm around your neck tighter, “take my cock, sweetie.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he bottoms out. Sylus is hard and thick , his cock throbbing inside of your aching cunt. You feel wonderfully full, mouth placing sloppy kisses to his bicep as he drops his weight onto you, pinning you against the bed.

“Fuck- hah- cunt’s gripping me so fuckin’ tight,” he groans.

As though in response, your pussy clenches around him and Sylus swears again, his forehead falling against your shoulder. He lets you get adjusted to his size, his hand caressing your waist soothingly before you can feel his hips draw back, thrusting into you slowly.

“You’re so big ,” you slur, eyes fluttering shut.

Sylus grunts, his fat cock bullying into your pussy again when he rolls his hips forward, breathing heavily against your back. You feel perfectly at home, content with the feeling of his arm around his neck, and the weight of his body bearing down on you. Reaching behind you blindly, you manage to find his hand and Sylus laces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand affectionately. 

“It’s like you were made for me,” Sylus whispers against your cheek, “hm? You were made for me, baby. Perfect little cunt made to take my cock.”

It’s getting harder to suck in air with how tightly his arm is constricting your throat. An uneven gasp leaves your mouth, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure mixes in with the lack of oxygen, his filthy words driving you further and further into a place where you can’t think.

His cock punches into you, his balls smacking against your clit, the sounds echoing through the room, the lewd harshness of skin slapping against skin making your cheeks flush. Sylus lets you breathe more comfortably when you dig your nails into his arm, trailing soft kisses along your cheek.

“Good girl,” he praises, his needy pants filling your ear, “my perfect girl.”

You whine, tilting your head a little more. “W-wanna kiss,” you mumble, “kiss me, Sylus.”

Sylus kisses you gently, his lips moving against yours whilst his hips hump into your ass, driving his cock deep into your clenching pussy. He moves you before long, turning you on to your back, kissing your ankles and dipping his head to land a reverent kiss to your fluttering pussy.

Your legs lock around his waist, staring up at him hazily with your lip bitten as he pushes his cock into you again. Sylus lowers his body onto yours, making sure you’re comfortable before his hips are moving again.

“Feels s’good,” you mumble, turning your head to kiss his cheek.

Sylus hums, brushing a kiss to your brow, his hands smoothing over your hair. His thrusts grow more powerful before long, punching the air out of your lungs, your cries emanating through the room as your nails claw down his back.

“Gonna cum?” he asks, voice a low growl as he feels you clenching around him tightly.

You nod rapidly, hands curling around his shoulders as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, nipping and biting as he grinds his cock in deep . You whimper, back arching, and he grins against your skin, slowing his movements to make sure you can feel his every inch fat, throbbing cock filling you up.

“So pretty,” Sylus whispers, nosing along your cheek, “my pretty slut falling apart on my cock.”

“Sylus!” you cry out his name wantonly. 

Sylus growls, his hand slipping down to hike you thigh up a little higher before he starts pounding into you without abandon. 

“Where do you want it?” he hisses, his red eyes alight as he stares down at you. “My cum,” he clarifies when he sees the confusion in your cock-drunk gaze, “where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you whisper, body trembling with each thrust he delivers to your pussy, “fill me up, Sylus. Wanna feel it.”

“Little vixen,” Sylus snarls, kissing you roughly. You scream and squeal, the noises muffled every so often when he kisses you desperately, the coil of pleasure in your stomach curling tighter and tighter until it snaps.

You moan out his name, thighs twitching violently, nails digging into his back.

“ Hah- ” he rasps, peppering soft kisses along your jaw, “pussy’s gripping me so tight fuck- couldn’t pull out even if I tried.”

Sylus lets out a growly moan, his hand squeezing at your hip as he buries his face into the crook of your neck again. You can feel his cock twitching, his hips slowing to a stuttering stop as he cums, filling you up. Hot, thick cum floods your pussy and you whine softly, the sensation sending little aftershocks through your body. He shallowly fucks his cum into you, hips moving slowly before he slumps on top of you completely.

You push at his chest when his weight becomes too much. “Get off me, you brute.”

“Shut up,” Sylus murmurs, smacking your thigh lightly.

A smile spreads across your face when he lifts his head, his lips slotting over yours in a tender kiss. You make a noise of contentment, wrapping your arms around his neck, pecking his lips a few more times. 

Sylus grunts as he moves off of you, his softening cock slipping out of you. You wince at the feeling of his cum wetting your thighs and Sylus stares down at where his cum leaks out of you, the substance spilling out you thickly.

“Don’t look,” you whine, trying to snap your thighs shut.

Sylus doesn’t let you, grabbing one of your legs to kiss your ankle and then your knee. He presses soothing kisses to your inner thighs, thumbs apart your folds to watch his cum leak out of you again, landing a soft kiss to your clit every so often.

You roll your eyes, pushing at his head when he tries to suck your clit into his mouth, your pussy already oversensitive. He grins, moving towards you again and you cup his cheek, drawing him into a kiss.

-

A few hours later, you’re sitting in his lap.

You’d both showered together, exchanging lazy kisses under the hot water. Sylus had given you one of his shirts and a pair of his briefs and they were entirely too big, but you’d pulled them on anyways, his shirt smelling like him comfortingly. 

“Look,” Sylus says, pointing to the screen playing the recording of his match last night.

His large tv screen depicts your flushed face from when he’d reached for you, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Scoffing, you swat his chest and Sylus laughs, letting you hide your heated face in the crook of his neck.

“You look cute,” he murmurs, his hand rubbing and down your back. “Besides, how are you going to handle it when I kiss you in front of everyone?”

“I’m not going to handle it, because you’re not going to do that.”

“I will,” Sylus replies smoothly, slouching a little on his couch, “when I win the championship.”

“Don’t sound so sure,” you retort. You hate how straightforward he is.

Sylus’ eyes flutter shut when you run your fingers through his hair, a sigh escaping him.

“You should be more encouraging,” he says, petting your sides.

You smile faintly, tilting his head to kiss him. Sylus groans into your mouth, pulling you closer by the back of your neck until you’re making out sloppily, the sounds of fists colliding with skin playing on the tv behind you.

“Is- is that enough encouragement?” you ask breathily, pulling away with swollen lips.

Sylus stares up at you, his lips parted and hair messy and you think you might’ve taken that shower for nothing.

“Need a little more, baby,” he whispers, pulling you back.

He kisses you breathless, his hands slipping up under the shirt to feel your warm skin. You nuzzle into his cheek afterwards, looping your arms around his neck. He caresses your breasts idly, sometimes squeezing, other times simply grazing his thumbs over your areolas. 

A moment of silence passes before he’s speaking again.

“Kieran scratched your car.”

[sunsburns]

been thinking about dating college!art and you get into a really big fight until he decides to show up at your dorm *cough* make up sex *cough*

i had wayy too much fun with this… SMUT 17+

“i’m still mad at you, you know.” there’s no real bite to your bark, not when your voice is breathless, your cheeks are flushed, and your hands keep running through his hair.

“yeah, i know,” art drawls, his voice softening. he says it because a part of him knows it’s true, but he can’t help the faint smile that grows on his face. he knows you won’t stay mad for long, but he still feels the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. he’d do anything to make it up to you. with every press of his lips, he mutters a quiet “i’m sorry,” against your skin, then grazes his teeth along your ankle before making his way up your leg.

he’d thought of a million different things to say to you, how he would stand his ground or cave to your defences. but all of it was thrown out the window the moment you opened that door. you were wearing his shirt—or maybe it was patrick’s, maybe even tashi’s—and a pair of panties. the sight of your messy desk, covered in textbooks, notebooks, and your open laptop, reminded him you were doing homework, or trying to. but the ache in his chest at the thought of you hating him was overwhelming.

it was killing him knowing you were upset, and he was the cause of it. that’s why art had taken a trip to the nearest farmer’s market the moment he was off the court, and he bought you flowers and your favourite snack and knocked on your door.

now the flowers are forgotten by your desk, the snacks on the floor, and you’re still trying to keep up the act that you’re mad at art. but the truth is, you can’t even remember what you were mad at him about in the first place. 

the way he looks at you, with such earnest remorse and tenderness, makes it hard to hold onto your anger. you sigh, running your fingers through his hair again, feeling the tension between you start to melt away.

“i hate how you do this to me,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. art’s eyes meet yours, and he pauses, his lips hovering just above your knee.

“i know,” he says again, his voice filled with a mix of regret and hope. his hands roam up the sides of your thighs, fingers brushing your ass before they turn into the curve between your legs. “but i’m here now,” he presses a kiss against your hot skin again, making his way up, up, and up. “and i want to make it right.”

as he continues his gentle kisses, moving slowly and tenderly, you feel your defences crumbling. the anger that once felt so strong is now just a distant memory. art’s presence, his touch, his voice, his words, all of him- it’s all you can think about.

he looks up at you, sitting on the bed while he kneels before you. you’re watching him, waiting for his next move when he is still between your legs. 

when you run your nails against his scalp, art doesn't bother hiding the quiet whimper that slips past his lips before he closes his eyes and leans his head towards your arm. 

he lets you hold him while his hands trail up your sides, reaching and groping anything he can before his fingers tug at your panties, and he carefully slips them off you.

when he kisses your clit, you rest your leg over his shoulder, heel pressing against the muscles of his back. his arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer while he starts to eat you out. 

art starts slow, calculated strokes of his tongue against you, running it in tight circles against your clit, dipping it lower when he gets a little more confident. when you arch your back and whine, pushing his head closer so you can ride his face, he starts to pick up the pace, hoping to hear that sound come out of you again.

when his tongue pokes at your cunt, it draws a loud moan out of you, blood rushing to your ears. “fuck, art,” you whimper, grinding against his face. “feels so good.”

art seems to like it more than you, eyes closed in bliss, humming and moaning against your cunt, each vibration from his mouth making you spiral. his hips buck up into nothing, but he doesn't seem to mind as his hands hold onto you tighter, as if he is afraid to lose you. 

“you’re so pretty like this,” you barely manage to get out, your heart thumping against your chest.

art moans again at your praise and finally opens his eyes to meet your burning gaze. his low, nearly pathetic whine with his eyes on you was what it took to push you over the edge.

art lets you ride it out, he lets you grind against his face, he lets you use him again and again and again until you’ve had your fill and there is nothing left of him.

and when you cup his cheeks and bring his face to yours and kiss him like you have a one-track mind, he has an inkling feeling that you're not mad at him anymore. you press your forehead against his, hand cupping the back of his neck, and he lets out a sigh and you breathe it in. 

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, one more time, to make sure you know he means it.

you smile, offering him half a shrug and another kiss. “just let me return the favour.”

[shotmrmiller]

pornstar au

f!reader x ghost x price :)

2.7k words

tw: teacher-student scenario again, just for the sake of the porn. also, DP. first time writing it, so be NICE!

big thanks to @waves-against-a-cliff for reading what i won't

You sat on Professor Riley's lap after class, his rigid length smearing precum in between your soft, bare thighs as he fucked them. His large hands curled around your waist, long fingers creating tiny dents where he dug them into the supple flesh.

His breath warmed the delicate skin of your throat, as pants escaped his lips. You deliberately pressed your legs closer together— hoping that it provided enough amount of friction for him to finish.

You need this extra credit, after all.

Ghost inhaled sharply when you did, the grip he had on you almost painful.

"Fuckin' hell." His rich groan resonated in your chest. The gusset of your knickers was damp with arousal, both yours and his. The languid drag of his cock against your clothed pussy was so tantalizing, your core ached to be filled.

You were about to urge him to forget intercrural sex— to undress and fuck you already when a sharp knock on the door cuts through the fog in your head; a sudden rush of clarity pouring over you like a bucket of ice-cold water.

Shit.

Your back straightens at the interruption and quickly move to get off of Ghost's lap when he wraps an arm around your middle, keeping you firmly in place. A strangled noise claws up your throat. He cannot be serious.

"Come in," he calls out.

"No. No no no, you can't— you'll be fired, I'll be expelled, Professor Riley, please—" your voice warbles in your panic. His hold on you is as strong as steel, leaving no room for escape or resistance. You're helpless as the doors creep open and Professor Price steps in.

Of course, it's the most pretentious asshole teacher in existence.

"Hey, Riley, have you gotten the ema—" he trails off. His striking blue eyes flick down to your legs. Or more precisely, to what's still in between them fully erect.

"I was unaware you were busy with a...student." The sound of his footsteps draws closer. "Is this what you call detention?" Price leans on the desk with his hip, eyes never straying from you.

Ghost stifles a laugh. "Ask a better question, Price."

Heat licks up your jaw and cheeks when he resumes his thrusting as if there isn't another whole grown man in the room— one who can potentially ruin both his career and your collegiate one.

"Like what, Riley? Want me to ask if I can get a taste?" You look at Price and notice that his eyes are dark, limpid blue rings around the edges— knuckles stained white with how tightly he's clenching his hands. "You've never been a sharing type."

"Well, this sweet toy of mine loves being shared, doesn't she?" Swiftly, Ghost lifts you, his manhood now nestled against the curve of your back. His clever fingers move to your covered center, and draw featherlight circles on your hood, right above your clit. A whimper falls from your lips at the feeling.

"Answer him, pet. Tell Price ya don't mind gettin' this pretty pussy licked by him." He presses down on your bundle of nerves firmly with the pad of his thumb when you take a second too long to answer.

"I, I don't," you hiss when he rubs, "d-don't mind." Ghost gives your cunt a gentle tap.

"Don't mind what?" You swallow the lump lodged in your throat.

"I don't mind getting my pussy licked by Professor Price." His teeth tenderly graze the shell of your ear, followed by a small nip.

"Good girl," he mutters into your hair. Then directs his attention to Price, who's biting his bottom lip— the look he's giving you making your head swim. "She answered, so get down here or get out," he commands.

Ghost clasps his hands under your thighs and lifts until your feet rest flat above his knees. He hooks a finger into the sodden fabric of your knickers and drags it to the side, baring your glistening slit to the cold air of the room, erupting your heated skin in goosebumps. "On your knees, old man, unless they're too creaky to handle this."

Price's lip curls with unveiled amusement. "I was simply admirin' the view, Riley. Don't get your pants in a twist." He lowers himself to the floor smoothly until he's kneeled within inches of your exposed sex.

His prickly beard tickles the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and his mouth is warm and wet as his tongue slides between your folds.

Another former industry giant devouring your passion with the hunger of a starved man at a lavish feast. Each stroke of his tongue spreads the warmth in your stomach, a pressure slowly rising, building—

"Sit her on you," Price mouths against your cunt.

When you find yourself wedged between two burly men, there's not much you can do except surrender to their wishes. That means being lowered onto Ghost— instinctively closing your eyes as you savor the stretch and biting the inside of your gummy cheek at the mildly uncomfortable burn.

Gravity does most of the work as you sink into him in one gentle stroke.

And without reprieve, Price dives right back in. The dull ache from where Ghost's tip presses into the plug of your womb, to the pleasure coming from the attention given to your swollen bundle of nerves.

An intoxicating mix of bliss with pain furling at the edges.

It's so good, teetering on the edge of too much, but when Price sucks lightly on your clit, your body seizes. You scrabble to grab his dark brown hair, blunt nails biting into his scalp as your shatter around Ghost's cock and Price's mouth.

Ecstasy pulses through you like the steady beat of your heart, white-hot euphoria coursing through your veins. There's a ringing in your ears, shrill and deafening, and your breathing comes in ragged pants as you come down from your high.

Your face glistens with sweat as droplets trickle down your temples, hair plastered to your forehead.

Jesus.

Price lapped at the arousal that dripped down Ghost's length, softly groaning at the taste before giving you a wolfish grin behind his coarse facial hair that was damp with your desire.

"Welcome back, sweetheart," he murmurs.

You relax the tight hold you have on his hair as he tenderly kisses where you and Ghost are joined.

Ghost nudges your ear with his nose, and his deep voice rolls over you like a wave. "Greedy little cunt jus' about cut off my circulation, pet." He shifts under you, sliding even deeper than before, a hiss escaping from behind your teeth.

"I think Price is feelin' a little left out, don't you?" With a shaky nod and a quiet mhm, you feel his lips press against the side of your neck.

"Think you can take us both?" It feels more like a warning of what's to come than a genuine question. The idea of being stuffed by both of them sends a thrill up your back.

Price sits back on his haunches, palming himself from outside his trousers. "Think so, sweetheart?" He rises to his feet and promptly sweeps away everything from the wooden desk, scattering them across the floor. Taking a seat on the desk, he positions himself comfortably, his legs slightly bent and his feet firmly touching the ground. How unfair.

With a hand, Price beckons you to him.

Your legs tremble almost comically after having them in such an unnatural position for so long; tingling when you finally stretch them out in front of you. Ghost's hands at your waist help you stand, wincing when he pulls out of you unceremoniously.

Under his breath, he apologizes and gently nudges you towards Price by pressing his hand on your shoulder blades. "Go on, it's rude to keep him waiting." You're then guided forward as warm hands wrap around your biceps, leading you to stand in front of Price.

You drag your eyes from his down to his groin, where his erection is confined behind the strained zipper. Suddenly, Ghost's toned arms surround you, his hands eagerly reaching for the button on the front. "Lemme help ya out, love."

In seconds, Price's heavy manhood bobs as it springs out, ruddy tip hitting just below his navel. Simon firmly grabs your hand and swiftly turns it, exposing your palm. Without warning, he shamelessly spits on it before wrapping it around Price.

A guttural noise escapes him when you squeeze the thick of it tightly. He bucks his hips in a deliberate rhythm— taking hold of your wrist, ensuring your hand remains in position as he continues to thrust upwards until his cock is slick with his precum.

You can't help but rub your thighs together in hopes of getting some of the friction you're desperate for.

"Not gonna come already, are ya Price? We haven't even gotten started." Ghost ignores his scoff, rapping his knuckles on the desk. "Knickers off and climb up, pet."

You hastily tear off your smallclothes, shucking them to the side with your foot before hopping up on the desk, one leg at a time. Price steadies you with his hands on your waist. As you straddle him, your muscles ignite with a satisfying burn as they adjust the expanse of his thighs.

His voice is soft, gentle even, when he whispers into your ear. "Good?" You gasp sharply when Ghost spanks your arsecheeks before nodding at Price. "Jus' like we practiced, yeah?"

Yeah, just like you practiced. The plug you had to wear throughout the week whenever they both weren't tearing you in half should be more than enough prep. You hope.

Ghost taps the side of your thigh. "Cockwarm him while I get this perfect arse ready."

The stretch is intense as you lower yourself on Price— his cock thicker than Ghost's just not as long— it pushes the air out of your lungs. He bites his lip til it reddens, his eyes fixed onto where he disappears inside of you, fingers digging into the meat of your waist.

Your eyes flutter closed when he finally bottoms out, his girth splitting your swollen walls apart mercilessly.

God, he feels so good.

And then the sting of one thick, lubed finger pressing into your tight ring of muscle smothers some of that pleasure.

"Hey, hey. Look at me." Price tips your chin up with his hand, your eyes meeting his. "Good. Breathe for me, sweetheart." He leans forward to place open-mouthed prickly kisses on your neck. "Breathe, love. You've already taken us before. You did beautifully then, and you'll do beautifully now."

He distracts you from the discomfort by suckling on your skin, leaving red little love bites behind. Then, a second finger, so much bigger than your own. Price hisses sympathetically when you do— a tiny whimper coming from the back of your throat.

This time it's Ghost that breathes into your ear. "Doin' so good f'me."

Then he works a third finger in, and your back arches at the jolt of pain that licks up your spine.

Words of praise fall upon your ears, syrupy and saccharine, dulling the ache. He scissors and stretches gingerly, as he's always done. Ghost takes his time, curling his fingers inside— a slow and steady in and out that eventually has you clamping around Price.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth when you do. "So bloody tight."

"Alrigh' Price." Ghost takes you by the hips and cants them forward slightly, a cry falling from your lips at the change in angle. "Hold her open f'me."

He does just that; rough, worn hands spreading you open almost embarrassingly. There's a hot and heavy weight tapping your arse once, thrice— and then there's a blunt pressure pushing into your other much smaller hole. Your spine bows at the thick invasion, it burns, it throbs, but smart fingers find your neglected pearl and start to circle it.

The pain is merely physical, it can be overcome. Focus on the touch on your clit, focus on the hands that hold you, the heat that radiates from both of them. The harsh breathing of the man behind you as he fights to keep himself from fucking himself into you unfettered. Strained noises spilled from Price's parted lips as he felt your channel constrict, your sex beginning to get slick with your desire.

Ghost hilts, leaning forward until his barrel chest hits your back, a strangled groan coming from him. You felt unbearably full, about to tear at the bloody seams. Every single nerve from your navel down to the tips of your toes was on fire. You felt a throbbing sensation radiating from the back of your skull.

It was scalding hot, searing. The thin membrane that separated them felt stretched beyond its limit.

"Y'okay?" You can't even tell who asked you that past the rushing of blood that's in your ears. Your head feels too heavy on your shoulders, letting it lull forward until your forehead rests on Price's collarbone.

Ghost's chest vibrates as he speaks, the low rumble sinking into your skin, warming you from the inside. "Breathe for us, love. Deep in, slow out."

Right.

You remember what Price had said the very first time they fucked you. 'Breathing helps to process any pain and supports the nervous system.'

As you inhale deeply, your lungs expand to the point where you can feel a twinge of discomfort. But as you exhale, the tension in your body melts, your muscles gradually slackening.

Ghost undulates his hips once languidly, and while the ache flared back to life, below that was the pleasure you've become well acquainted with, desperately clawing its way to the surface.

A moan slips out of you unbidden.

"Perfect. So fuckin' perfect." Price's praise makes you dig your fingers into his broad shoulders, nails biting into his skin.

Then you're lifted by two sets of hands— one on your hips, the other on the underside of your thighs and brought back down. Fuck.

"Tha's it, love. Takin' us both so well," Ghost murmurs. When you begin to mewl, a clear sign of pleasure, Price plants his feet on the floor, and snaps his hips up. Black spots dot your vision, a euphoria shooting through your veins.

God, you hope your hips hold out.

They begin to move in tandem, one pushing in completely, while the other pulls out until just an inch stays inside.

It's sublime, obscene squelching coming from both your front and back. Once your body gives in to their assault, everything starts to blur at the edges, from your sight to your thoughts. You melt in their hands, softening under their touch as they take their pleasure from you.

They begin to fuck you in earnest, breath punched out of you with every thrust, and when Ghost takes control by grabbing a fistful of your hair, it sends waves of something through your stomach. The loud whine that comes from you is filthy.

"Always meltin' into a puddle over a firm hand, pet. Isn't tha' right?" He asks you as if you could even dream of answering. Your tongue is heavy in your dry mouth, and throat like sandpaper.

"Ready to make Price come? Choke his cock with tha' vice-like cunt, love. Wrench it outta him, take every drop of his cum, and then take mine."

Who are you to disobey such an edict?

The snarl Price lets out is animalistic when you squeeze him snugly, his thrusts turn jarring as he swells and stills— twitching inside of you, warmth pooling in your belly.

Only to realize that Ghost finished simultaneously.

There's a joke in there somewhere, about a couple finishing together, but you've been thoroughly fucked stupid.

Cut.

Simon takes you home— his home, and soaks you in a warm, bubble bath that smells like something he shouldn't have.

"I bough' it for you," he hums.

His callused palms knead into your sore calf muscles, hand making its way down to press into the arch of your foot.

"Don't go makin' those noises, love."

Eventually, you address the elephant in the room, and his answer makes your pulse race. "Gotta create a soft safe place f'you to land after somethin' tha' intense. Ya need to wind down, catch your breath."

He says it so casually as if it was common sense.

"Here. Drink your water." The bottle in your hands is room temperature, just how you like it.

[bbyquokka]

blow me instead?

– “Why should I blow out the candles, when you can just blow me instead?” prompt

pairing | lee felix x gender-neutral reader

genre | smut – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | established relationship ; dom felix ; oral sex (blowjob) ; finger sucking ; cum swallowing ; deep throating

words | 2.6k ~ ( 2,693 ) + 2 fake texts !

notes | a lil smth for felix's bday. jisung's will be posted at a later date when i've finished it :( don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

you forgot. you’ve forgotten the most important day of the year and you are currently kicking yourself for it. it’s felix’s birthday, the one day of the year that you look forward to every single year – but for some unknown reason, this year you forgot.

maybe it’s because you’ve both been really busy that you haven’t given it a second thought. you’re always well prepared for things like this, but this year it slipped your mind.

you knew you forgotten something but you couldn't tell what. you had that nagging feeling in the back of your mind but you pushed it to the side. “i’ll figure it out later” you always told yourself only to forget – once again.

it wasn't until the day before, did you looked at your calendar and see ‘15th sept’ circled and decorated in hearts, labelled ‘felix’s bday!!’ did you panic. that nagging feeling quickly turned into a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. worry and panic washing over you and coating your skin in a cold sweat.

it was way into the night to go to the store to pick something up. everything was closed. you thought about making him something but realised that you don't have the materials to do so. so a quick search on the web was your last resort. you hoped you could find something that would do next day delivery but alas, after several hours of searching and drawing up blanks, did you accept your fate.

you woke up the day of his birthday, feeling guilty and it's eating you alive. you don't think you'd be able to face to him without bursting into tears.

“i should at least wish him a happy birthday.” you mumble. you take your phone from the night stand and open up felix's contact. your thumb hovers over the green circle. 

you hesitate. lips pursed together. you overthink. you can hear his sullen tone of voice. you can see his facial expressions twisted into sadness. your heart aches and feels tight, like someone is gripping onto it.

“fuck. i can't.” you throw your phone onto the bed beside you, watching it bounce from impact before rubbing your face with your hands and groaning. “maybe a shower will help me. i’ll call him then!” 

you didn't call him. in fact, you spent the whole day avoiding him. you did pop to the store and buy a small box of cupcakes and some candles. you had this idea of surprising him by turning up at his place with a fancy birthday cake, thinking it's better than nothing,  but when the store only had cupcakes to offer, that idea was quick to fizzle out.

the cakes are now sitting on the counter, untouched and unopened. you're in your lounge wear on the sofa, TV on but you're not tuned into whatever show it's playing. instead, you're on your social media, looking at what felix has been up to the whole day.

pictures of felix with chan, jisung and hyunjin. birthday wishes from friends and family flood his profiles. you're glad he's had a good day but that guilt just won't go away. 

you've shamelessly avoided him the whole day because you couldn't face him. it's cowardly of you and you know it, but in a way, you just shut off.

you rush to your feet. your sock covered soles slapping against the floor as you rush to the door. you open it and come face to face with a not so pleased looking felix.

'“i see you're still alive.” you swallow. he sounds irritated. he's angry at you and you don't blame him.

“felix, i–”

“are you going to let me in or are we just going to stand out in the hallway?” he cuts you off. you look down at your feet and shuffle to the side, opening the door wider for him.

he walks in, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat as you close the door behind him. he notices the unopened cupcakes and pack of birthday candles by the side of them.

“so?” he starts as he looks at you. your chin is tucked into your chest, fingers fiddling with one another. you feel like a child about to be told off by a parent.

“i'm so sorry, felix.” you start, keeping your eyes glued to your feet. you don't want to make eye contact with him because the guilt of forgetting is eating you alive. it's making you feel incredibly nauseous.

“for?” his arms crossed against his chest as he looks down at you, brow raised. his authoritative and dominant aura seeps out from his pores and clouds you, suffocating you in the process.

“... i–uh…” you start, words lodged in your throat. felix lets out a small, irritated sigh. “I forgot about your birthday.” 

your voice is small and cracks. you furiously blink back the tears that are threatening to spill from your lower lash line.

“you forgot?” you nod slowly. “is that why you've been avoiding me?” you nod again. “why?”

“because i thought you'd be angry at me… like right now.” felix runs his fingers through his hair slowly.

“i’m not angry that you forgot. it happens. i’m angry because you avoided me on my birthday.”

“i know.. i’m sorry.” you look up at him and chew your bottom lip. the cupcakes catch the corner of your eye. you rush to then, opening them and the candles before sticking one in the middle of the cake.

felix follows you and watches you with eager eyes. his gaze suddenly feels hot. he licks his lips as he admires your body, eyes flickering up and down.

he's undressing you with his eyes. 

you turn around, holding the cupcake in your hand with the candle flame flickering. you present it in front of felix and smile.

“i got you cupcakes though. i know it's not much but i couldn't find anything on such short notice…” felix simply hums and looks at the cake, then you. “are you not going to blow it out?” you question after some seconds pass.

felix leans in close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear as his voice drops and becomes low and deep. his warm breath fans against your ear as he speaks.

“why should i blow out the candles when you can just blow me instead?” 

goosebumps ripple along your skin. your heart suddenly starts racing. his breath feels ticklish against your ear, body temperature suddenly rising

“f-felix!” you squeak as he pulls back, finding amusement at your shocked facial expression. 

“i assume you didn't get me a gift so i can consider a blowjob as one. and if you do a good job, maybe i’ll let you off the hook for avoiding me on my special day.” 

“i–” you swallow a little, the heat from the candle is radiating onto your chin, adding to the increase of your own body temperature.

felix keeps his brow raised before trailing his hand down his torso to his groin where he squeezes and groans softly.

you can't take your eyes off him. you watch his hand squeeze and palm himself through his jeans. his veins bulging from his hands and arms. 

he kicks his head back a little, lips parting and giving you a view of his outstretched neck. his adams apple bobbing with his swallows. soft moan and grunts leaving his parted lips.

“don't just stand there.” his deep voice brings you back down to reality. “blow me.”

you place the cake down on the counter (after you blow out the candle) before kneeling in front of felix. he looks down at you. his dominate aura making you feel small and vulnerable but excited.

you can feel the pit of your stomach tingle and bubble with excitement. warmth coating your groin. the tips of your fingers and toes feel electric from the surging feeling of excitement that's mixed in with hormones.

you reach up and slide your hands up and under his t-shirt. his warm skin hugs the tips of your fingers. the sturdiness of his abs flexing and tensing with his stomach moving in time with his breathing.

you feel his smooth skin, tracing his muscles with your fingers. the only thing that isn't smooth, however, is the small, yet noticeable happy trail that runs from his belly button and disappears below his jean waistband.

“mhm..” felix hums softly, your touch giving him goosebumps. you move your hands lower until they come into contact with the rough fabric of his denim jeans.

you look up at him, asking for permission with your eyes to which he gives with a nod of his head.

you unbutton and unzip his jeans slowly, revealing that he is wearing black designer boxer shorts. you notice how his bulge is slowly, but surely, getting bigger with each passing second as he anticipates and waits.

you pull his jeans down to his knees. you press the palm of your hand against his crotch, massaging him slowly. he huffs. his cock twitching against the palm of your hand.

you give him a few gentle squeezes. your touch is too gentle for his liking so he looks down again you with glossy eyes.

“harder.”

you oblige by wrapping your fingers around his clothed length and squeezing, hard. his hips buck slightly and a soft, deep moan falls from his lips.

you feel his warm hand pressing against your cheek as his fingers graze along your jawline before bumping against your bottom lip.

he slowly strokes your lip, chewing on his own. 

“look at me.” you look up at him, making eye contact. two of his fingers nudge between your lips, gently pushing past them as you part them.

“good.” he whispers as his fingers caress your tongue. your brows furrow together, lips wrapping around the two digits as you suck. your saliva coats felix's fingers thoroughly whilst he pushes them further into your mouth until they're fully encapsulated in the warmth of your mouth.

the hand that around his clothed length has slowed down and is now loosely gripping him. your groin feels hot and excited, tingles in your stomach as felix explores the inside of your mouth with his two fingers before pulling them out slowly.

he gives a satisfying ‘hm’ before instructing you to continue with the nod of his head.

you whimper a little and reach up with both hands, grabbing the waistband of his boxer shorts. your fingertips brush against his hot skin, causing felix to shiver and huff in excitement.

you slowly pull down his underwear, revealing his happy train and v-lines slowly before his erect penis is revealed, bouncing and twitching at the sudden cold air hitting his hot shaft.

felix lets out a small breath of relief. the feeling of being restrained is no longer an issue. his hips buck slightly as you wrap your hand around the base of his shaft, stroking it slowly.

you watch the man above you slowly crumble. his penis twitching, pre-cum leaking from his slit. his shaft is hot against the palm of your hand, tip red and a few veins protruding along the sides.

your hand glides up and down his penis, rotating at the top. you use the pad of your thumb to gently rub his tip, smearing the pre-cum and making his tip glisten.

the sensitivity gets to felix. his hips rocking a little in your hand against his will, thigh muscles noticeable twitching. his head flops to the side slightly, half-lidded eyes looking down at you and watching your every move.

you lean in and lick the side of his shaft a few times before pressing your tongue against his tip and swiping it several times. his salty pre-cum coats your tastes buds, making you feel more excited.

you rub your thighs together as the heat in your groin is unbearable at this point. you're desperate for some sort of friction and attention but you're too into pleasuring felix. with the way felix is right now, you know he is going to be selfish and chase his own high.

your free hand cups and caresses his balls. felix hums softly as you roll and squeeze them gently in your hand whilst kitten licking his tip.

“c’mon, baby. you know i need more than that.” 

you close your eyes as you wrap your lips around his tip. felix shudders and huffs a little, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. you gently suckle on his tip, swirling your tongue around it a few times before slowly lowering your head and pushing more of him into your mouth.

the corner of your lips feels stretched, mouth stuffed. you try to make your jaw slack but even that is a struggle with how thick and long felix is.

you struggle to put half of his length in, settling with a little under. you can feel his tip bumping the back of your throat and saliva is quick to accumulate in your mouth.

felix huffs and puffs, body shuddering and twitching. he reaches down and runs his fingers through your hair a few times. 

you start to bob your head slowly. your hand stroking what your mouth struggles to reach. the head and hand move in synch with each other, providing equally, if not more, pleasure to felix.

he feels the pleasure rushing through his veins and burning. his toes curl against the floorboards and his grip on your hair tightening with each suck as a way to keep him stable and grounded.

“...fuck … baby, m-more..” he pants.

you oblige, increasing speed and intensity. felix's moans become more intense and breathy. his body and mind failing to comprehend the intense feeling of warmth and wetness from your mouth as well as the coolness of your palm.

“... oh fuck.. yes… so fucking good…” 

this just encourages you even more. you remove your hand and place them both on his thighs for stability. you push your head further down his length until you can feel it down your throat.

you hold back your gag reflex, swallowing a few times to tighten your throat around him. felix lets out a string of incoherent moans and whispers. 

your jaw hurts. your lips hurts. your knees hurt and you can't breath but listening to felix whimper and crumble makes it all worth.

you feel him twitch in your mouth. his hips thrusting involuntarily. he's a mess and he's close.

his balls are tightening and his body is coated in a thin layer of sweat. the sensitivity of his cock head is overbearing. 

“don’t stop.. 'm close..” he struggles to say between his moaning. his strangled moans mix in with the sloppy, wet sounds of your mouth. 

he lowers his head, chin tucked into chest as he whimpers. a string of “fuck” leaves his lips as he grips onto you. it doesnt take him long. his cock twitches in your mouth, hot fluid coating your tongue and throat.

felix whimpers and whines, huffing and puffing. his body twitches and jerks. you help him ride out his orgasm before slowly pulling away. 

you look up at him, making eye contact as you swallow. felix shudders and strokes your swollen bottom lip, saliva collecting on the pad of his thumb.

“you did good, yn.” with felix's help, you rise to your feet. the numb feeling of pain on your knees becoming more noticeable now that your legs are outstretched.

“does this mean i’m forgiven?” you mumble. felix nods and strokes your hair gently.

“sorta.” you look at him slightly confused. “my birthday isn't over just yet, yn.”

“true… so, what do you want?” 

felix takes you by the hand and drags you to the bedroom. he gently throws you onto the bed, stripping himself of his clothing as you lean on your forearms and watch.

“i want so much more.” he purrs as he crawls onto the bed, towering over you and kissing the shell of your ear.

“i’m a greedy man, yn. you should know that a blowjob is not nearly enough to satisfy me.”

[earlysunshines]

L word

kim minji x fem!reader

synopsis: minji gets drunk while she’s away and you’re sent a video of her rambling on about how much she misses u

warnings: sappy sweet lovely ; minji a loser FORREAL i will never let this go. ; alcohol! yummmmmyyy ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: hello WHATS UP im HOME i have a new cat keychain and milk blush HOORAY anyways girlfriend of the year goes to

it’s the last day of minji’s stupid volleyball camp – the camp four hours away from you, her beloved girlfriend – and she’s surrounded by her teammates, a few bottles of soju and wine they somehow managed to sneak in, and the growing haze of too much alcohol. 

leaning her head against the back of the couch, she tries desperately to keep herself from losing her mind.

what’s pushing her to the edge isn’t just the alcohol—it’s the fact that she made the rookie mistake of glancing at her phone’s wallpaper. there you are, hair up, face bare, looking effortlessly beautiful as you make breakfast in the morning. you’re caught in the middle of a candid moment, gazing at the camera with a confused expression, your hand blurred as you try to grab the phone from her. 

(“hey!” you groan, rushing towards her with a spatula in your hand. minji laughs, backing away and pushing your head away with her hand, making you groan again. “delete that!”

“nuh uh.” minji grins at you, then puts her phone in her pocket. you still look annoyed, but minji finds it the best thing to wake up to. “what’s all this?” she asks, moving her head to to the side to eye the stove.

you blush, turning away and walking back to where the stove is. you check up on the four eggs you’re cooking, then mumble, “i figured since it’s your first time staying over at my place… i’d make you breakfast.”

it doesn’t show, other than the slight tint of pink on minji’s cheeks, but she might lose her mind, maybe even get down on one knee.

“aw, thanks.”)

the image is sweet, simple, and yet, to minji, you look absolutely adorable. it’s enough to make her heart ache with longing, the kind that no amount of soju can drown out.

minji tilts her head back and downs another shot, wincing as the burn slides down her throat. she squeezes her eyes shut, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through her chest. alcohol has never been her strong suit—not like you, who can handle a few drinks without batting an eye. minji’s a lightweight, and by the third shot, she’s already feeling the effects, regretting every dose more than she wants to admit.

around her, her teammates are lost in their own conversations, faces flushed from the alcohol. haewon, the team’s setter, has somehow managed to smuggle in a bottle of wine and is well past her limit, babbling on about some guy she’s been talking to and clinging onto bae defeatedly. 

minji tries to focus, to engage in the chatter, but her mind keeps wandering back to you. your image, your smile, the way you look at her—it all tugs at her heart, pulling her deeper into her thoughts, further away from the room full of laughter and slurred words. she checks her phone again after feeling it vibrate against the floor, immediately checking it and catching another glimpse of another photo of you in her lockscreen rotation; this time, she sees you studying in the background, the time covering apart of your head, and a few texts from you.

[y/n]

hey babe i hope you’re having fun! i’m going to sleep, goodnight! miss you xx see you tomorrow lovely

minji stares at her screen, her frown deepening as if the notifications had just announced the end of the world. she knows it’s the alcohol making her overly emotional, but that doesn’t stop her from feeling the weight in her chest. with a frustrated sigh, she lets her phone slip from her fingers, landing with a soft thud on the ground. the sudden movement draws the attention of her teammates, their chatter quieting as they turn to her.

“what’s wrong miss team captain?” ryujin teases, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

minji, usually the composed and level-headed one, surprises everyone when she lets out a dramatic whine and leans her head against danielle, who’s sitting next to her. the room falls silent as minji wraps her arms tighter around her knees, her voice small and filled with longing.

“i miss my girlfriend,” she confesses with a heavy sigh. she picks up her phone again, staring at the lock screen—another candid moment that you look adorable in. “i miss y/n so much.”

her teammates exchange glances, surprised by the rare display of vulnerability from their usually stoic captain, but they can’t help but smile at how deeply minji cares for you. hanni, the libero, is very entertained by this rare sight of minji. she pulls out her phone and snickers, pressing record and holding it up secretly. 

danielle lets minji sulk into her, she’s the only sober one in the room and is in the right mind to say anything meaningful in this situation. “do you need water?”

“i need y/n.” minji murmurs, rubbing her face in her hands and making her face even more red. “i miss her…”

“it’s been four days minji…”

“i want to be with her all the time… always.” minji confesses, her voice trembling with a vulnerability that takes everyone by surprise. her hand reaches for another shot glass, but danielle quickly intervenes, her concern clear. yet, minji manages to avoid her and downs the drink anyway, the alcohol burning its way down as she wipes her lips with the back of her hand.

“i–i…” minji stammers, squeezing her eyes shut as if trying to hold back a flood of emotions. her fingers fumble for her phone, and when she finally grasps it, a soft smile spreads across her face. she turns the screen to show her teammates a candid picture of you nestled against her, your peaceful expression illuminated by the dim light from your lamp. you had completely passed out against her that day after studying for one of your more important tests, that was also the moment minji realized she loved you. “my beautiful y/n, my lovely…” she murmurs, flipping the screen back to herself as if savoring the sight. “...y/n.”

danielle can’t help but giggle softly, gently helping minji to her feet. “she’s very sweet, but i think it’s time we get this sweet girl’s girlfriend back to her hotel room. you’ve had enough, minji.”

minji shakes her head, her pout deepening as her eyes glisten with unshed tears. the rest of the team watches in stunned silence, taken aback by the raw, unguarded side of minji they’ve never seen before. they knew she adored you—her eyes always sparkled when she mentioned you, and her demeanor softened in your presence—but this...this was something deeper, something that laid her heart bare for all to see.

“i love y/n so much… she’s the only… girl… ever,” minji slurs, her words heavy with emotion as she sways slightly on her feet.

“well!” danielle tilts her head, laughing softly at minji's endearing confession. hanni, meanwhile, can’t resist giggling as she records the entire scene, already planning to send it to you later. danielle carefully helps minji to her feet, steadying her as she turns to the team. “i’m going to get her to bed—someone’s turned into a sappy lovebird.”

“no, please keep her here,” ryujin pleads, clearly relishing in her captain’s rare moment of vulnerability. “this is gold.”

but danielle, the only one with a working moral compass, shakes her head, her gaze shifting to minji, whose blinks are becoming slower, her hair a tousled mess, and her cheeks flushed a deep red. minji clings to danielle, her voice barely above a whisper as she mumbles, “i miss her… i wanna see my y/n… i love my y/n, i love her…”

danielle sighs, gently guiding minji toward the door. “come on, let’s get you to bed. you’ll see her soon enough.” minji nods, though she continues to mumble your name like a mantra, earning giggles from her teammates even after she’s dragged out by danielle.

–

minji feels like she’s been hit by a bus when she wakes up. her head is pounding, her hair is tangled and a chunk is in her mouth, and her body is twisted in an awkward position that leaves her neck sore. 

she groans, blinking a few times as she rubs her eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. blindly, she reaches for her phone on the bedside table, and when her fingers finally graze the cold device, she squints at the screen—nine in the morning. the bus back leaves at ten.

it strikes her with the sharpness of an unexpected breeze. she gasps at the sight of the numbers, shooting up from the bed in a panic. in her rush, she nearly trips over her shoes, cursing under her breath as she fumbles to get herself ready.

her phone ends up on the sink counter as she splashes water over her face, trying to clear the fog in her mind. as the cold water shocks her system awake, another revelation dawns on her—she hasn’t responded to you yet. panic seizes her chest as she reaches for her phone, guilt and worry mixing with the lingering headache.

your texts are still unanswered, and there’s also a text from danielle asking if minji is alright, but you’re her first priority.

minji clicks on your contact, then presses ‘facetime’. water drips down her face and onto her shirt a bit before you pick up. 

“hey babe–”

“sorry i didn’t get to respond.” minji apologizes. you can only see the top half of her face looking down on you before she sets up the phone clumsily. you giggle and catch minji smiling at the sound of it. “the team and i we were…” minji can’t exactly remember much from the night before, she can only recall around seven bottles of soju on the ground, plus those two bottles of wine haewon brought. “... up late.”

“right.” you mumble, trying to contain a smile. “i missed you.”

minji almost misses her toothbrush while putting toothpaste on it. she clenches her jaw and looks at you in the camera, trying to conceal just how flustered you make her.

“me too.”

“how much?”

“a lot.” minji says, then starts brushing. it’s almost inaudible, but you manage to make out the small, “more than you missed me.” she mumbles as she brushes her back teeth.

“you’re so cute.” you murmur, then take a picture her in the moment.

minji groans when she sees the notification that you captured her while she’s a mess, minji is not a morning person. she puts her hand up to cover the camera as she continues brushing, but moves it away when she hears you giggling, wanting to see your face scrunch up cutely and your teeth show slightly when you laugh like that.

your girlfriend rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless.

–

minji has always been the reserved, playful type. you've seen glimpses of her more intimate side, but she's still shy about fully expressing her emotions. just like you, she's new to romance, and sometimes it shows in the way she kisses you just because, holds your hand with a gentle smile, or whispers compliments that warm your heart. 

but underneath that playful exterior, there's a lot she keeps hidden. minji’s good at concealing her deeper feelings, partly because she's shy, and partly because she’s still in disbelief that she managed to win your heart.

truthfully, minji is a mess. she’s head over heels when you kiss her cheek before you two part ways on campus. she’s even worse when you light up immediately at the sight of her outside your lecture room, and really anything you do makes her go batshit insane. but minji’s not going to show that, she doesn’t show any of it, so you’ve only seen her ‘cool, calm, and collected’ side–you think it’s cute, but what’s even cuter is the new side of her you’ve just been exposed to.

another truth is that you woke up to a good morning text from hanni before minji had even stirred. the message instantly made you feel all warm and giggly inside. there was a cheerful "good morning sunshine!" followed by a video and a teasing ":P you’ll love this girly." you clicked on the notification, squinting at the screen as you opened the video hanni sent.

the thumbnail showed minji, her cheeks flushed as she leaned against the couch. when you pressed play, hanni’s laughter echoed from behind the camera as she shakily recorded your girlfriend.

you watched as minji, looking like an adorable, sad puppy, leaned against danielle and started confessing how much she missed you. the sight made your heart swell, a huge smile spreading across your face. minji, with her flushed cheeks and vulnerable expression, showed off her lockscreen to the team, getting even sappier as she proudly displayed your photo. 

 “my beautiful y/n, my lovely…” you hear her murmur, she turns the screen back to look at it lovingly. “...y/n.”

you couldn’t help but blush and kick your feet in bed, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. seeing how tipsy she was—four empty shot glasses scattered around her—explained why she was rambling about you, talking about how much she missed you. the whole thing made you giggle, your heart fluttering with affection for your sweet, slightly drunk minji.

what catches you off guard and nearly has you falling off your bed is when you catch minji saying:

“i love y/n so much… she’s the only… girl… ever,” she slurs it out drunkenly, but it’s heartwarming. she says i like a lead in a romance film, and it sounds genuine. then she says it over and over, and even if she’s drunk, drunk words are sober thoughts – that’s what you believe.

minji just said the L word and you weren’t there to witness it in real time. it’s been three months and minji said it first. if you could magically teleport to her in that moment you’d do it in a heartbeat.

–

your girlfriend arrives at your apartment in the afternoon. she knocks at your door and you open it with an eager smile, immediately pulling her in by the wrist and closing the door behind her.

minji giggles before you pull her in for a kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling away to smile.

“missed you silly.”

“missed you more.”

“i bet.” you mumble before pecking her again, then smiling cheekily against her lips. “hey, i wanted to ask about something – also show you something too.”

your arms are still around her neck, and her hands rest above your waist as she looks at you through her adorable black frames. “okay?” she says, tilting her head.

you grab her by the wrist and lead her over to your couch, both of you flop down on it and you lean against her shoulder. she puts her arm around you as you grab your phone, then kisses your head softly while you pull something up.

“hanni sent me something interesting.” you shrug, fighting the smile that’s trying to form on your face. “i wanted to show you.”

“hm, okay.”

you pull up your messages and minji feels herself stiffening looking at the thumbnail of the video hanni had sent. you press play and she realizes it’s a video from the night before, so she stops you, grabbing your phone and turning it off.

“hey!” you groan, reaching over to grab your phone back. “don’t just–”

“whatever she sent, that’s not–”

“just watch the video!” you poke her side and she loosens her grip, which gives you a moment to snatch your phone back. “just–”

minji’s cheeks are crimson, she’s flustered beyond measure. she sighs, crossing her arms now and turning away from you. “that’s not– look, i was drunk out of my mind…”

“okay well i don’t care, i want you to watch it so i can ask you something.”

“y/n, please baby.”

“don’t baby me.” you say with fake annoyance, pressing play again. “watch,” you order, then mumble a small, “you’re really cute.”

minji shifts uncomfortably as she watches the video, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. she cringes at the sight of herself with flushed cheeks, collapsing onto danielle, and the video captures her in a state of drunken vulnerability–it’s mortifying to minji, but you’re enjoying every second of it.

as the footage plays, minji’s cringing even more. she sees herself leaning into danielle, eyes glassy, as she gushes about how much she misses you. her gaze flits to her lockscreen being proudly displayed, her face a deep shade of red. she bites her lip, feeling every bit of her embarrassment as the video continues.

"i– i just... missed you—" she tries to explain before you cut her off.

“shh, shh. we’re not at the best part yet.” 

hanni pham i’ll kill you. minji thinks to herself, forcing herself to watch the rest of the video. 

minji's face flushes even more at the sound of her own voice confessing her feelings. hanni’s giggles in the background only make the situation worse. minji hears herself repeatedly saying "i love y/n" with a tone of longing, the video ending with hanni's laughter echoing.

“so,” you pull away from her, looking at your thrown off girlfriend in front of you with raised brows. “what did you think.”

“i–” minji pinches the bridge of her nose, then looks at you looking at her with an expectant expression and a teasing smile. “--look.”

“you said the L word.”

she furrows her brows. “what?”

“you said it, the L word.”

“oh my god y/n.” minji can’t help but laugh in the moment, purely from disbelief. she sighs, giving you a crooked smile. “is this about me saying… that?”

“saying what?” you push her buttons successfully, watching her bite the inside of her cheek.

“you know what.”

“say it.”

“what?”

“say it to my face.” you purse your lips, then bite the inside of your bottom lip. 

minji glances away, her face a mixture of vivid red and palpable anxiety. the embarrassment still colors her cheeks, but now there’s an additional hue of nervousness. it’s not that she’s new to romantic things like this with you—far from it. it’s just that her feelings for you are so profound, so overwhelming, that they’ve left her floundering, struggling to match the intensity of her emotions with her actions. sometimes it feels like her heart and brain work independently, or maybe it’s just her heart doing most of the work, it’s a mess, a beating wreck always.

you’ve managed to make her feel like a mess, an idiot, and utterly smitten, all by existing.

she takes a deep breath, forcing herself to look you squarely in the eye. her cheeks remain flushed, and she fidgets with her fingers, betraying her inner turmoil.

“i love you.”

“who?”

“you, y/n.” minji groans, leaning towards you and sliding her hand above your waist again. she presses your skin lightly with her fingertips, before repeating herself, “i love you y/n.” her voice is low and she looks at you through her eyelashes, now you’re all nervous.

you can’t speak or breathe in the moment, so you opt for leaning in and kissing her, but she pushes you away after one peck, looking at you with raised brows.

“you’re not going to say it back?” minji smirks, her gaze unwavering as she watches you avert your eyes. her expression turns playful yet determined as she gently hooks her finger under your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze once more. her thumb rests lightly on your lower jaw, her fingers pressing gently against your cheeks. “what was all that interrogation for if you’re—”

“i love you.” you confess, breath hitching when she looks at you like that. “i love you minji.”

minji smiles, clearly satisfied. “wasn’t that hard, was it?”

“i hate you.”

“but you love me.”

“yeah, but i hate you.”

“uh huh.” minji chuckles, fingers still holding your face and using that to pull you closer and kiss you.

despite the embarrassment she’s feeling, minji somehow remains more composed than you. she pushes her glasses up to sit on the crown of her head before her lips brush against yours with a tender softness, and she hums as she kisses you again. when she pulls away just enough to speak, her breath mingles with yours as she murmurs against your lips,

“i L word you a lot y/n.” she pecks you again, then says one more time before taking your breath away, “i love you so much you loser.”

[wasteddmoondust]

little family || remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader 1,258 words, single mom! reader, established relationship, FLUFFY FLUFF, kid fic, maybe i just crave domesticity a/n: back to back fics like who is she... (had this in the drafts for a WHILE) omfg guys this was soooo crazy indulgent I'm gong crazy no i did not proof read but i hope you like it anway

Remus is just about to leave work when he gets the call. He sees your contact name pop up on his screen, Y/N <3.

"Hello?" he says when he picks up the call.

"Hi, Re," you reply. You voice sounds rushed and anxious. "Do you happen to be free today?"

"I am, love. What is it?" he asks softly, stopping in his tracks to listen to you.

"Something came up at work today that I have to stay and handle, could you pick up Lyla from daycare?"

Lyla, a little girl equivalent to a ball of sunshine. Though you had only been dating for over a year, he sees her as his own.

"Of course I will. I'll bring her back to yours?"

"Yes please, thank you so much. I'll buy takeout for dinner when I'm done. You okay with that?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll go pick her up now."

He hears you heave a sigh of relief over the phone. "I appreciate you so much, I love you."

He smiles. "I love you, too. I'll see you later."

Remus reaches the daycare and realises he doesn't know what he's supposed to do. He walks by the window and sees Lyla colouring in her classroom. She notices the movement and looks up from her drawing. He can't hear her through the window but she's jumping around and cheering at the sight of him, waving excitedly.

He waves back at her, smiling, then notices one of her teachers gesturing to meet her at the entrance.

She gets past the gate to the classroom, leaving Lyla behind. "Hi, I know you're here for Lyla but since you're not her mum I'm going to need your ID," she says pulling out a file from one of the shelves.

He pulls out his wallet and gives it to her and watches her scan a list of what seems to be names of parents of the children.

She takes a few seconds and finally says, "Ah yes, Remus Lupin. You're on her list. I'll get her for you." He watches the teacher look into the classroom and call Lyla.

And then he realises. He's on the list. He's on the list of people who can pick Lyla up from daycare. You put him on the list of people who can pick Lyla up from daycare.

He's snapped out of his thoughts when he hears Lyla's voice. "Remoose!" she yells, running up to him.

"Hiya, angel," he says and picks her up. His heart melts as she immediately wraps her arms around his neck for a hug. "Mummy will join us later, but for now it's just you and me, okay?"

"We can watch TV?" she asks. "And then- then play toys?"

"Mhm, that sounds like a good plan," Remus replies, and they head to your home.

Later, you turn your key to your flat and open the door. You can hear the television playing a movie and the sound of your daughter's laughter. You kick off your shoes and walk into the living room.

Remus is covered in the fake makeup from Lyla's child-friendly kit. His hair is also adorned with little flower hair clips. He sits cross-legged on the floor while she sits in his lap.

"Looks like you had a lot of fun without me, hm?" you say. Lyla jumps at the sound of your voice, immediately running to you.

"Mummy! Remus fetched me today!"

"I know, darling," you kiss her cheek. "I asked him to. Did he take good care of you?"

She nods aggressively. She runs back to Remus, who is already walking up to you.

"Well don't you look pretty today," you tease. He smiles and breathes a soft laugh.

"My makeup artist is talented. She's very serious about this," he presses a kiss to your forehead. "You hungry? I can heat up dinner."

"That'd be great, and then it's time for this bug to go to bed," you pick up Lyla. "Isn't that right?"

She lays her head on your shoulder, visibly getting sleepy as it gets closer to her usual bedtime.

"Say good night to Remus?" you turn your body, so she faces him.

Remus bends down to kiss her hair, "Good night, angel."

Lyla slowly closes her eyes, "G'night..."

Putting your baby to bed goes smoothly, and she easily winds down as she is tucked into bed. She snuggles into her blanket and looks up at you.

"I like it when Remus fetches me from school," you hear her mumble.

You smile at that. "Really?"

She nods. "I really like Remus."

"I really like Remus too, darling."

"I think you get very happy around him, Mummy," she whispers. "You were not very happy last year, but now I see you be happy with him. So I'm happy."

You feel your heart do something. Jump? Lurch? Lyla was right, being a single parent comes with its challenges and you can admit a lot of late nights were spent biting your nails and wiping tears from your cheeks. You tried your best to prevent her from seeing you in that state, but you know she's observant enough for her age.

And that's why you're so thankful to have met Remus. He accepted you despite the fact you had a whole child. He saw you not only as you but also as the mother of your child. He understood that Lyla would always be a priority to you over romance (unlike most men you've met). Despite all its complications, he has been able to fit into your lives as if he's already meant to be there.

A prime example could be taken from today. Surely he could've said no to picking up Lyla from daycare, he's just her mother's boyfriend, after all. But he agreed and handled the rest.

"He does make me really happy," you say to her. "Does he make you happy too?"

"Mhm! He always plays with me and watches shows with me. He also hugs me and kisses me. He makes me happy. He's like my Daddy."

You chuckle, trying to hide the way your heart is going crazy at that. Somehow, you take the leap. "You want Remus to be your Daddy?"

"Can I call him my Daddy?" she asks, her eyes hopeful.

"You'll have to ask him tomorrow," you say, and you wonder what his reaction would be.

"Okay, I'll ask him tomorrow. Good night, Mummy."

You kiss her forehead, "Good night, darling."

You walk out of her room to see Remus placing your plate of food on the table for you. Without saying anything, you approach him and hug him. He hugs you back.

He is silent for a while, swaying your body slowly as you hug. "You were in there for a while, what were you talking about?" he mumbles into your hair.

You take a deep breath and look up at him, chin resting on your chest. "I love you," you say.

He furrows his brows but nods anyway. "I love you, too."

"Lyla wants to call you her dad."

Remus stops swaying. What is he thinking?

"Okay," he says, simply.

You jerk your head back, "Really?"

"Of course, I love her too, you know. I'd be honoured."

Chuckling, you bury your head into his chest and squeeze him. You feel him press a kiss into your hair.

"We're like a little family," he whispers to you. And you can see it too. You, your daughter, and Remus altogether as one.

And there's honestly nothing you want more than that.

a/n: SO LIKE UM this has been in the drafts about the same time as the james one like i said this is just very very indulgent brainrot i still have plans for the james series!!!!!!! ty sm for your support <3 likes and reblogs are always appreciated.

[highvern]

Steam (TEASER)

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x f!reader

Genre: ATLA au, enemies(?) to lovers, forbidden romance, royalty au

warnings: violence (bending fight club), alcohol consumption, fire bender! wonwoo, water bender! reader, (more tbd)

Teaser Length: ~2.5k | Full Fic: ~20k

Note: anyway i did the thing! thank u to @caelesjjk and @shadowkoo for the banner! @tomodachiii @miniseokminnies and @gyuswhore for being my betas. im hoping to get this out in the next two weeks but we shall see... idk what it is about wonwoo that makes me want to write long as fics but it is what it is

summary: Wonwoo is the best fire bender in Capitol City. Or he is. But a water bender he's never seen before changes everything.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Comment to be tagged when the full fic is posted or join my permanent taglist HERE.

Ranchous voices filled the warehouse, deafening as the hoard of bodies looking for a night of gruesome entertainment flooded the stands. Steam and smoke and dust clogged the air, only cleared by the occasional rush of wind the massive hole in the ceiling that showed the clear night sky above, the moon barely half full and the stars dusted across the sky.

Wonwoo watched from the catwalk criss-crossing high above the ring like always. He won’t fight until later, not until someone is dumb enough to challenge him once the adrenaline of the smaller spars bubbles to their head and they decide they would be the one to end his winning streak proudly tallied on the leaderboard. 

But for now he watched the metal platform below, where Jihoon launched a clay disk at his opponent with terrifying speed. With a wide swing of his arm, Chan knocked it aside before it could land, spinning off balance from the recoil.

Too easy. But no matter how many times the two fight, Chan never catches on to Jihoon’s tricks until it's too late. Jihoon hurled a second disc – cracking it into pieces with a squeeze of his fist – at Chan’s head. The airbender managed to dodge the first piece but the other two landed true, crumbling him to his knees. The crowd fell into a frenzy of starved animals, foaming at the mouth as a tally mark appeared next to Jihoon’s name on the victory board.

Wonwoo’s name sat on the next line above, so many tallies they nearly ran off the side of the sheet of repurposed metal. 

Wonwoo rarely lost. Dokyeom might force a draw for fear the building would burn down if a fight dragged on; but the last time that happened was nearly two years ago when Seungcheol demanded one final fight before retiring. They both walked away with matching black eyes and limps, his friend with singed uneven hair, and Wonwoo with a concussion and a dislocated shoulder.

It was one of the few fights Wonwoo didn’t mind losing. Defeat was much sweeter when he got paid half the betting pool for it.

The next fight gears up to start; another air bender and fire bender racing into the ring. Wonwoo rarely cared to watch their fights. Hoshi lacked finesse, relying on overwhelming his opponents, while Seungkwan’s temper historically ended the match before it could really begin. But it never stopped the audience from rushing to place their bets with Jeonghan like always.

Deciding he needed a drink for the chaos about to unfold, Wonwoo descends the stairs towards the crude bar in the corner of the upper tier of the stands. It’s nothing more than a shabby counter top, covered with colorful bottles and cracked cups..

The sting of fire whisky going down doesn’t shock his system nearly as much as the woman leaning against the wall; watching him, gaze heavy on his skin even in the dim light. 

Rounding the bartop, Wonwoo doesn’t look away as he approaches. If you balk under his gaze, he can’t decipher a tell; only a satisfied smile pulling the corner of your lips high and your eyelids lowering until his chest brushes yours..

His arm rests above your shoulder, pinning you beneath his gaze. “You’re staring at me.”

It isn’t a question, it's an accusation. And you’re more than guilty.

“And what are you going to do about it?” You asked, chin tilting back defiantly, eyes narrow.

Wonwoo makes the mistake of looking at your mouth, hypnotized by the tantalizing pout of flesh as it slips into a smirk. He walked right into your trap before he even knew what was happening.

He dipped closer, eyes still on your lips. “What's your name?”

Just as your nose brushed his own, you melted off the wall and under his arm. Wonwoo cut a glance over his shoulder to find you stalking backwards into the crowd, eyes never leaving his until you're swallowed into the fold without a trace.

The dare was so obvious in your gaze. Paired with the teasing words, Wonwoo felt something surge inside him. That hot need to chase, to tease you back. To find out if your boldness evaporated with enough attention or if you’d use the same haughty tone to chaste him in private.

Wonwoo moved to do just that but he’s called to the ring for the next fight.

“Our reigning champion, the man of fire,” Dokyeom preened dramatically into the mic. “The longest running victor in bending battle history!”

People parted as Wonwoo approached the walkway leading to the isolated platform surrounded by a steep drop off into a pool of water. Maybe he reveled in the applause and anticipatory cheers longer than necessary but if anyone’s earned, he has.

“And our newest challenger!”

The poor idiot who signed up to fight shouldn’t last too long, Wonwoo isn’t interested in dragged out humiliation. Especially not now. Hopefully, he can end this quickly and find you again, bargain his victory for your name and maybe some time alone.

But, as swiftly as his hope ignited, they crumbled to ash. Dokyeom continued his rambling as you flashed a smug smile across the ring.

He faltered for only a moment before continuing towards the center of the ring. Out of the dark, he failed to decipher anything that might give him advantage. You lacked the breezeness of an airbender, posture too rigid, the cocky defiance from earlier still present. Maybe an earthbender. Or better yet, a firebender.

Your eyes trickle down his form. Only one of you is at a disadvantage so far but it won’t remain that way for long. Wonwoo thrives on a challenge, and after so long without one his heart squeezed in excitement.

“Good luck.”

You remained silent, eying Wonwoo’s outstretched hand before ignoring it, turning towards your side of the platform with your nose in the air.

Gasps of shock erupted around the warehouse. The stands circling the platform were fuller than before, even the people who only come to socialize finding a sudden interest in the stranger bold enough to snub the best. Wonwoo paid them no mind. You’re the most interesting opponent he’s had in a long time.

Words from earlier echoed in his ears.

What are you going to do about it?

Wonwoo followed suit and retreated to his post with a few grounding breaths. The flame inside him grew in preparation, hungry. Vicious. It raged until there's nowhere for the fire to go but out.

The starting bell cut the air; immediately he's on the offensive, dropping into a low stance, arms drawn into his side before the shrill sound stops. A swift punch launched a huge fireball from his fist, a swell of heat surging through his veins as it sails over the ring with terrifying speed. Then another and another, fast enough that just as one dissipates, it’s already replaced with a new explosion of flames.

Barely any smoke filled the air when they dissolved. They were nothing more than a cheap scare tactic; completely hollow shells aimed to intimidate rather than maim. The fight is just starting and there's no reason to throw his best moves just yet.

You sidestepped each blow, dipping close to the floor before rising again and twirling out of the way with catlike grace. Wonwoo lobbed the next one right in your path but you adapt without pause. Like you’re dancing around the fire. With the fire. 

Wonwoo rushed forward, taking the advantage to drive you towards the edge of the platform, refusing to grant an ounce of reprieve. Not that you needed it. Every blow is avoided even as he adds more punch to the moves, each burning hotter and brighter than the one previous.

He maintained a healthy distance, plenty of room to keep the heat away from himself as his arms sweep and a ring of fire slices at your feet, close enough to singe the edge of your boots before you can avoid it completely. But you dove through the opening and rolled back to your feet, as if you expected the blow.

Wonwoo sliced his hand through the air, a razor thin whip of flame bursting forth to lick against your chin, close enough to feel the heat but Wonwoo maintains control. You could’ve blocked the move but you retreat again, eyes furious at the smoke of burnt hair jagged from contact dangling next to your jaw.

Wonwoo can’t detect any attempt at bending. The clay disks stacked at the edge of the ring remained unmoved, the air undisturbed. There’s no pull at the flames he’s conjuring, no hint that you're manipulating his own fire against him.

After another one sided volley of hits, your refusal to fight began to wear on his nerves. He harnessed more flame with a sweep of his leg, a swift stomp sending it over your head before it exploded and knocked you to your knees. You controlled the impact and roll to a crouch, eyes blazing,

“Is that really all you’ve got?” you said, shoulders squared but lax. There’s no teasing in your voice, if anything it’s cold disappointment. 

To Wonwoo’s shame, a hot bolt of want ran through him. Images of you whispering the same words, with the same snotty tone, flashed in his mind; back in the dark corner near the bar where you started this entire game.

Your leg circled around and Wonwoo finally prepared himself for something of interest to happen but you only use the momentum to rise back on your feet and brace for the next round.

Wonwoo realized you must be a waterbender. The way you move, melting around every attack, shifting with impressive flexibility, it’s a dead giveaway. That or just plain stupid. If you walked into this fight with no bending then it’s only a matter of time before you cut your losses and yield. 

Only one way to find out.

A towering wall of pure flame, large enough it’d scare even him to be on the receiving end, swelled in front of Wonwoo. The crowd roared in excitement, feral for the inevitable end to the match. There's nowhere for you to evade this time. It’s into the flame or off the backend of the platform. 

A flat footed kick sent the wave barreling directly towards you, consuming more oxygen and growing wider with rapid speed.

The flood of fire finally forced your hand. A tsunami of water rises from the grates criss-crossing the ring, geysers gushing with enough pressure to shake the floor. A sharp hiss echoes as opposing elements collided in an explosion of steam thick enough to clog the entire warehouse. So dense Wonwoo can’t see in front of his own nose.

Wonwoo stood unfazed, even as the crowd distantly murmured in confusion. Now, the game begins.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he called, listening. Waiting.

A splash behind him is the only warning of your presence. Wonwoo slashed his leg through the air, an arch of flame slicing through the fog providing a brief glimpse of visibility. However, it does nothing more, you’re still nowhere to be found.

“Longest running victor in battle history, and he can’t even land a hit,” you tsk.

Wonwoo jerked at the sound of your voice, so close he expected to find you right behind him but he’s only met with a faceful of powder.

A fucking snowball?

You must have been close enough to see the scowl twisting his face because you giggle before launching another.

“Can’t handle a little water?” you snorted.

Under different circumstances, ones not involving you pelting him like a child, Wonwoo might enjoy the sound. He might even want to find out what the sound tastes like on his tongue. 

Another snowball, this one more ice than anything, collided with his chin and that desire turned into cinders. He whipped fire towards the noise but missed.

Arms raised, he feigns as if to launch another and instead opens harnesses his breath and forces a wider arch of flame that evaporates the fog you’ve hidden in. Wonwoo finds you evading from the corner of his eye and uses the moment of weakness to spring into action.

Except you crumbled with a choked scream and the sudden rush of victory tastes like ash.

Three wide strides and Wonwoo is there, hunched and ready for the next blow. But your choppy breathing ends the match. The air reeked of burnt, the entire ring smoldered with heat.

He should’ve known better; especially with you. So clearly unprepared for the intensity of a fight like this. Dokyeom shouldn’t have let you put your name down to fight, let alone against Wonwoo.

Acrid smoke rose from the discolored collar of your tunic; too close to hope he hasn’t burnt your face but he does anyway. Wonwoo prepares for the worst as he rolled you over, already yelling for a healer.

He isn’t prepared for an icy fist straight to his nose with enough force to send him onto his back. “What the fuck?”

Another blow lands on the back of his head. Hot blood rushes forward as the next punch lands with a grotesque crunch against his nose. His skin burns with cold, eyes stinging from the sudden influx of pain.

Long channels of water with blunt frozen ends sprout from the grates like a watery forest. You stand unscathed amongst the pulsing curtains, smiling like a lunatic.

Wonwoo covers his head from the brunt of attacks. His nose is broken and one of his eyes is already swelling shut. A torrent of water collapses over him, bearing down with the power of a waterfall. His knees buckle. The air in his lungs abandons him.

In a last ditch attempt to save his pride, he thrusts his hand forward. The reek of ozone clouds the warehouse as electricity splinters towards you.

And as if it’s nothing, you redirect the bolt of lightning through the opening in the warehouse roof as Wonwoo watches in shock.

The warehouse is silent. Seconds stretched into minutes but no one moved as you rose into a lazy stance. 

Wonwoo watched through sweat and blood, dark spots floating in his vision as your boots grew closer.

“How disappointing,” you sighed just loud enough for him to hear before striding towards the platform and out of view.

When the echo of your footsteps faded, Wonwoo let the darkness swallow him whole.

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© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[zweigsons]

ride the cowboy

dodge mason x f!reader smut

summary: dodge has a really stupid rule about a hat that you'd never even seen him wear. but, it's not too big of a deal in the end

etc: nsfw, finger-fucking, unprotected piv

a/n: so like i might write a dodge x MALE reader soon bc apparently hes confirmed bi>??? and im tecnhnically a dude so like #perfect

word count: 1,993

“Why do you have a cowboy hat on your dashboard?” You asked with a snort, taking the cream colored hat off of the dash. You had asked Dodge to take you home after work, seeing as the motor in your windshield wipers had died in the middle of rain season. 

He glanced over at you briefly as he started his car. “Sometimes I need one. Just in case.” 

You giggled, “No one ever needs a cowboy hat.” You began to put it on your head before shooting him a skeptical glance, “You don’t have lice, do you?” 

He let out an offended scoff, reaching his hand over and playfully pushing your head. “No. I don’t have lice.” 

“Hmm, okay.” You placed the hat on your head. He gave you a funny look, but you dismissed it. “Does it suit me?” You asked with a giggle.

“Mhm, it does.” He chewed on his bottom lip as he drove, glancing at you every few moments. “You ever heard of the rule?”

“Shut up, what rule?” You asked, drawing your knees up to your chest. 

His smile quirked to the side and then he shook his head. “Nothing, nothing. Nevermind.” 

“No, tell me! You can’t keep getting away with being all dumb and mysterious.” 

“You think I’m mysterious?” 

“Did you hear me say dumb?”

He rolled his eyes, “I chose to ignore that.” 

“Dodge. What rule?” 

“Fine. Since you’re so insistent. Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.” 

You knit your brows together, “Ride the…?” Then it clicked. You grinned, “So you wanna fuck me?” 

He sucked on his teeth, “You put the hat on. Kinda sounds like you wanna fuck me.” 

“Shut up.” Then you paused, looking at him. “I mean… I do. I have for a while.” 

He coughed, pink from his cheeks to his ears. “Yeah? I can do that.” 

“I sure hope you can,” You muttered, fiddling with the brim of the hat. It was too large for you, and it tipped down, covering your eyes. 

“So… your place?” He asked, and you noticed how his fingers tapped nervously on the steering wheel. 

You hummed, “My mom’s at work, and my siblings are at an overnight camp. So, yeah. My place.” 

You had never seen someone drive so fast yet so carefully after you said that. 

He pulled into your driveway and you started to take the cowboy hat off of your head, but he stopped you. “It makes it hotter for me if you keep it on.” 

He had that stupid lilting smirk on his face so you knew it had to be a joke, but you kept it anyway. Even if it seemed to make a point of slipping down. 

The two of you rushed inside of your worn down little house and he kissed you as soon as you closed the door. You giggled, pushing him back. “Easy, cowboy.” 

“Yeah, cowgirl?” 

You grinned, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to kiss him again, soft and slow. The brim of the hat was pushed up as the two of you stumbled over to the couch. His hands were on your waist as you were perched prettily on top of him. 

His hands sifted under your shirt, calloused fingers tracing lines into your skin. He finally knocked the hat off as he pulled your shirt off, leaning up and beginning to gently kiss your chest. He made a point of leaving marks on the soft flesh of your breasts and you found yourself giggling. “Dodge. C’mon.” 

“Mmh, c’mon? What do you want me to do?” He asked it slyly, licking your collarbone. 

You shivered, “Shut up.” 

He nibbled at your neck, “Can’t. Tell me what you want, okay?” 

You throbbed in your underwear and readjusted your position on top of him. “I want you to fuck me.” 

“We’ve established that. Tell me how.” 

You pouted, “You’re so demanding.” You had to actually think about it for a second. Most of the fantasies about him that you’ve had were centered around his rough hands and a fast pace. You started to unbutton your jeans and then reached at the hem of his shirt. He was smart enough to take the hint and tugged his shirt off. Fuck, abs. Abs and arms and his neck and, actually, everything about him. “I want you to finger me. Make me cum on your fingers and then we can see about the whole ‘ride the cowboy’ thing.” 

His eyes widened and he grinned, “Anything you want.” He saw the look on your face when he said that and added, “I’m serious.” 

“Shut up. Get to work.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He layered on a fake southern accent and it made you giggle. 

He flipped you back and pulled your pants down your waist. You wouldn’t tell him this, but being out of your work pants almost felt better than the coming pleasure. His fingers gently skirted on your underwear and you fidgeted, impatient for him to touch you where you wanted it. 

“Dodge,” You whined, wiggling your hips again. 

He smirked, “Baby. Patience.” The way he slipped into the petname made you melt. 

You were about as patient as you could be, though. “Did I ask for you to take five million fucking years?” You asked, propping yourself up on your elbows. 

He looked like he was biting back a laugh. “No,” He admitted, fingers finally breaking the waistband. His fingers traveled further down, finally sliding over your pussy. You gasped, throwing your head back. “You’re so wet,” He murmured, two of his fingers teasing your entrance. It seemed like he was going to be stubborn with it. 

“Yeah, I am, Andrew. If you don’t hurry up and make me cum, I’m going to do something, like, evil.” 

“Evil? Like what,” He chuckled, his middle finger finally starting to poke into you. 

You groaned, his finger stretching you out more than your own ever could. “Like… cut your dick off… or something,” You found it hard to focus on what you were saying when his ring finger was joining the other inside of you and, God, it was better than anything you could’ve imagined. 

“That’s dark,” He pointed out, thick fingers sliding all the way inside of you. 

You let out a small squeak when he curled his fingers up and he grinned upon your reaction. “Good?” He asked softly.

You sighed, “Good. Would be better if you moved more, though.” 

“Bossy,” He muttered, even as he complied with your request. His fingers, curled up at that angle, began to move in and out of you. You gasped, hands flying up to dig your nails into his neck. 

The pace of his hand sped up and he leaned in, kissing your neck as he fucked you on his fingers. He changed the angle slightly and his thumb rubbed at your clit as he still managed to thrust his fingers. 

“Nnh, Dodge,” You whined, locking your legs around his. 

“Use your words,” He said, beginning to suck another hickey onto your chest. 

“Fuck you,” You panted out. Then, “I’m gonna cum.” 

You felt him grin against you, “Go ahead, honey.” His voice was so sweet and he curled his fingers again, at just the right angle, and you were coming undone. 

You panted shakily as he took his fingers out of you. Still coming down from your orgasm, you watched him lick his fingers clean. Your cunt throbbed at the sight and you thought about it–riding him. 

You pushed him back and told him, “Take your dick out.” 

He laughed, taking two of your fingers into his mouth and nibbling on them for a moment, “Did your mama not teach you manners?” 

“Nope,” You replied, fiddling with his belt buckle. 

“Lemme do it for you.” 

He unbuckled his belt and then undid his pants. You lifted your hips and wet your lips as he slid his pants down his legs. Another part of his body that was perfectly toned–you thought about grinding on his thighs briefly. Though, your attention was mainly focused on his cock. The erection tenting his boxers was one that made your mouth water a little. You thought of him filling you up and it made you twinge with want. 

You rested on his thighs and you smoothed your hands down his torso, stopping at the waistband of his boxers. You cheekily hooked a finger into the waistband, pulling it back and letting go, giggling as it snapped against his skin. “You’re such a little tease,” He said with a grin. 

“I try my hardest,” You said, tugging at the garment again. This time, he shifted his hips up and let you pull them off of him. 

You trailed a finger up the base of his cock and he whined. A whine is not a noise you’d attribute to Andrew Dodge Mason, yet here you were. You chuckled, wobbling up on your knees to position yourself over his cock. 

Your hands wrapped around his member as you lowered yourself down, and he watched you with bated breath. 

You shuddered as the head of his cock breached your hole. “Good girl, jus’ like that,” He mumbled, thumb rubbing over your hipbone. 

You practically purred at the praise as you continued to lower yourself onto him. He helped you, too. Strong hands pushing you down and it felt so fucking good. He had a bigger dick than anyone in this shit-town you had ever been with, and it was fucking clear he knew what he was doing with it. 

You were down to the hilt and you let out a short sigh. “Good job, pretty girl. You gonna make me feel good?” He asked, bringing his hand up to tilt your chin down. 

“Mm-hm,” You replied, leaning in and kissing him. 

You started to slowly grind your hips on him and he groaned into your mouth. You lifted your hips carefully and dropped them back down, pleasure wracking through your body as you did. 

“So good for me,” He mumbled against you, nipping your bottom lip. 

All you could manage was a soft keen as you continued to lift and drop your hips. Dodge started to move, too, thrusting his hips up to meet yours when you put yours back down. It created a perfect feeling of pleasure and you slumped over him, biting into his neck as you moved. 

It didn’t take long with this languid push and pull for you to feel close to release again, so you tapped him on the shoulder. That was all he needed, too. “Are you gonna cum?” He asked when you tapped him, nibbling your ear. 

“Nnh, yes,” You whined, fingernails leaving crescents in his back. 

“Okay, baby, okay. ‘M almost there,” He murmured, kissing your cheek before picking up the pace of his own thrusts. 

You let out something that was half-yelp and half-moan and you let him take control of fucking you. 

Your moans grew more frequent and almost panicked as you neared your second orgasm. Then, as he realized how close you were, he told you, “You can cum.” 

You hadn’t even noticed you were waiting for his permission until you were tightening up and letting your release wash over you. 

As soon as you came, he pulled out of you and with a few more strokes with his hand, his cum splattered onto your belly. 

You laughed and then kissed him again, slowly pushing him down and laying on his chest. “We should probably clean up before my mom gets home,” You told him as he placed a kiss into your hair. 

“Mm, probably.” He had no intention of moving. You knew that your mom wouldn’t be home for at least another two hours, so you saw no problem with it. You nipped at his collarbone and let the soft rise and fall of his chest lull you into something soothing. 

[pathologicalreid]

sanctuary | s.r.

in which hotchner!reader reunites with the BAU after her time in WITSEC

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff (flangst?) content warnings: mr. scratch arc, witsec, hotch and jack and thriving, luke and garcia bickering, thunderstorms, anxiety, hotchner!reader, boyfriend!spencer word count: 1.79k a/n: the fluffier, more fun follow up to sense memory! but you don't have to read sense memory to understand this fic <3

You kept your hood tugged over your head, staring at the books on Spencer’s desk as you waited for him to show up. He had texted you when the jet landed, letting you know he’d be home tonight.

The darkness was starting to get to you. The way the sun set earlier and earlier in the day, draping your apartment in a fog that no number of lightbulbs could diffuse, scared you. The obscuring of your eyesight brought back memories of a time that was best forgotten, and paranoia rushed through your veins whenever you sat in the apartment.

Usually, you’d make the drive up to your dad’s house in Philly, but he was off chaperoning a field trip with Jack’s class. You were perfectly safe in your own apartment, Spencer, despite his Luddite tendencies, had a new security system installed, and your sidearm had been returned to you by the marshal service. Even so, every time you heard a creak in the floorboards or the tapping of something in the window, the hairs rose on the back of your neck.

There was no one for you to call. You didn’t want to bother your father and Jack while they were together. You didn’t want to worry Spencer. Your therapist would just suggest that staying in the dark apartment was a good method of exposure. You didn’t want to be exposed; you’d had more than enough fear for one lifetime.

You’d retreated to the BAU. The sixth floor of the FBI’s Quantico headquarters had been your home away from home for longer than you could remember, the walls of your sanctuary provided you with shelter from the storm.

When you had brandished your badge for the men at the security table, they looked like they had seen a ghost as they sent you upstairs.

Your desk had remained untouched by time, Spencer told you that Penelope would periodically go through and dust the surface, waiting patiently for you to return to your place. The desk chair that Luke tried to steal from you time and time again tucked beneath the furniture, hoping for you to take your seat.

The magnetic pull that you felt from your desk was the exact reason why you elected to sit at Spencer’s desk, surrounded by his books, a photo of the two of you, and fewer reminders of the life that you used to lead.

Spencer had respected your wishes for your return to remain a secret. The only other member of the team who knew your whereabouts was Rossi, and that was because he quit taking no for an answer when offering to visit your father and was surprised to find you weren’t there.

Twisting slightly in the chair, you thought about going to see Penelope, but what would you say to her? What would you do when you got to see her again?

Ten months was a long time to be away from your second family, even more so when you’ve been hiding amongst them for the past two months. A flash of light outside clues you in to the arrival of a July thunderstorm, sighing, you rest your head in your hands and wait in the comfort of the BAU.

Everything about it just felt so normal. The ticking of the world clocks above the unit chief’s offices. The pictures of Roxy that Luke kept on his desk. The crayon drawings that JJ kept on her desk. The dinging of the elevator that signaled that the team had finally returned.

You hadn’t thought this far ahead.

The glass doors to the BAU didn’t give you any cover to run and hide in Rossi’s office, leaving you entirely exposed in the bullpen, save for your hood that concealed your face.

“My beautiful people,” Penelope greeted the team in front of the doors. “Now, it is not my intention to alarm anyone, but there is a mysterious cloaked figure sitting at the wonderful Dr. Reid’s desk.”

Your face warmed while everyone talked about you, discussing who you were, and who you could be. None of them mentioned your name, either for a lack of belief or an act of protection, making it so no one got their hopes up.

The familiar rush of air hit you as someone opened the glass doors, you kept your head down as footsteps approached you. The familiar tapping of Spencer’s boots grew louder until he was standing right in front of you, crouching to the ground so he could look you in the eyes, and placing a gentle hand on your knee. “How long have you been here?”

Frowning, you picked at the seam on your leggings, chewing on the inside of your lip as you shrugged, “An hour, maybe? I lost track of time.”

Spencer nodded in understanding, “I tried to call you from the tarmac, but you didn’t answer.” He turned to where the doors were, holding up a hand as he tried to hold off the other team members, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you assured him, “I just… I thought I’d feel safer here.”

He squeezed your knee gently, “But you know now you have to talk to everyone, right?”

You hadn’t expected the team to allow you to walk away from them again, so your head bobbed in confirmation, and you pushed your hood off of your head, receiving a gasp from Penelope once she recognized you. Spencer stood first, holding out his hand to get you up from his office chair before facing the team.

Adjusting your sweatshirt self-consciously, you studied all of their faces, each person simultaneously so different and somehow precisely as you remembered them. You screwed your eyes shut before opening your mouth, “Hi— oof!”

Your greeting was interrupted when you were engulfed in a hug, opening your eyes to be met with familiar blonde hair—Penelope was hugging you so tightly that it was restricting your breathing, and you reciprocated gratefully. Your olfactory memory was firing receptors in your brain as her vanilla perfume flooded your senses.

Spencer’s hand was settled on the small of your back, gentle but firm, a method of reassurance. You’re safe. It’s okay. These people love you.

Sniffling, you nuzzled your face into her shoulder, “Oh, Penny,” you murmured into her shoulder. Nearly a year of thoughts rushing through your mind, yet you couldn’t get any of them out without blubbering.

Surprisingly, she pulled away from you first, holding you at arm’s length and looking you over, studying your appearance like she was trying to jog her memory.

Before she got to say what she was thinking, another familiar character reached out and pinched your arm, “Ow, what the hell?” You peered over at Luke, who was seemingly not in a hurry to take his hand away, but Garcia came quickly to your defense and began swatting at his hand.

“Back off, Newbie,” she said, continuing to bat at him until he put his hands up in surrender.

Laughing, you glanced back at Spencer, who bore an amused look at the scene before moving forward and giving JJ a hug while Penelope and Alvez had their spat. You sighed in JJ’s arms, “Some things never change, huh?”

Pulling away from the hug, JJ rolled her eyes, “Oh, you have no idea.” Her curious blue eyes flickered between you and Spencer, obviously noticing that this wasn’t a reunion between the two of you.

“Hey, Em,” you beamed, turning around and reaching out for the new BAU Unit Chief. Well, newer, you supposed. “Thank you,” you whispered to her, knowing everything she’d given up protecting you and your family—once you got Spencer talking, it was a difficult task to get him to stop storytelling.

You pulled away, greeting Matt with a handshake and waving timidly at Rossi, who you’d previously reunited with and had provided you with several home-cooked meals. “You look great,” Tara said, observing you from in between Garcia and Luke, serving as a human barrier between the two of them.

Doing a little spin, you smiled anxiously, pulling at the sleeves of your sweatshirt, you looked around at everyone again, “Thank you.” All of the stress of being in Witness Protection had worn out your body, and one of your goals before returning to the BAU was getting healthy again. You were glad to hear that it seemed to be working.

“Come back here,” Penelope beckoned, waving you over to her until you were standing between her and Spencer in the circle that had been formed in the bullpen. Her eyes shone as she looked at you with wonder, “You’re here! You’re real,” she said excitedly, gathering you back into a hug. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she gently shook you, “I missed you.”

You relaxed into the hug, “I missed you too,” you whispered, stepping back and gratefully accepting Spencer’s hand when he extended it to you.

JJ clicked her tongue at the two of you, “What, uh, what’s going on here?”

“What?” You asked, feigning innocence as Spencer not so discreetly snaked a hand around your waist.

The blonde raised her eyebrows in incredulity, “Do you expect us to believe that this is how the two of you reunited?”

You shrugged, looking up at Spencer with adoration, “I split time between my dad’s and Spencer’s, so… we live together.”

Everyone was silent, and you expected an uproar. Frustrated questions on why you kept it a secret and why you stayed away from everyone when all they wanted was to be there for you, but the cacophony never came.

Instead, there was an encouraging whoop from Luke, and your eyes widened as cheers filled the room, “Really guys, it’s about time,” Emily acknowledged, smiling at the both of you.

It struck you then that you had been scared. You had been terrified of coming back to the BAU to find that they didn’t understand you and your reasoning for keeping your distance, but this was a group of people who knew better than anyone why you needed that time.

You felt a little silly, knowing you had been under the impression that these people would greet you with anything except for open arms. The realization that it wasn’t the building that made the BAU such a safe space for you but the people hit you like a bag of bricks.

Steepling your fingers and placing them in front of your face, you smiled at all of them, “I missed you all. So terribly much.”

Emotions made you weak at the knees, and you might’ve fallen to the ground if it weren’t for the BAU enveloping you in a hug, holding you up—keeping you safe.

[cupidbedsy]

𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗯𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗽𝗶𝗰𝗸𝘂𝗽 ; 𝘫𝘩86, 𝘭𝘩43, 𝘲𝘩43, 𝘵𝘻11, 𝘤𝘤22 ୨୧

➪ summary: after being stood up, y/n was planning on just spending her night crying on the curb before she went home. that was until five boys showed up and took her out.

➪ warnings: reader gets stood up, mentions of cheating, trevor is such a flirt, reader has chemistry with all five of them, definitely typos/not proofread

➪ word count: 5.3k

➪ file type: new fic

➪ sunny's notes: the first fic since i've left. guys you have no idea how in love i am with this. i got this idea based on a tiktok (at least the first part was, the fair part was all me) but i love this so so so much and i hope you guys do too. okay two things that i am willing to do with this, write and give you guys the letters each of them write and/or a part two where she gets together with one of them (who, you let me know)

© cupidbedsy (sunflower-lilac42) ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

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She hadn't meant to end up on the curb, mascara streaking down her cheeks as the city buzzed around her, but here she was, wishing she'd never agreed to the date in the first place. She shoved her phone roughly into the pocket of her jacket, curling herself into it further. She turned her attention to the cracks in the sidewalk, tracing the lines and picking at the grass that grew out of some of them. 

When she got bored of that she wrapped her arms around her knees and just buried her head into them, listening to the cars passing by and the distant music from the bar a couple of buildings down. She could hear muffled laughter and talking drawing closer but she was too distracted to care. 

Meanwhile, the group of guys was walking down the sidewalk laughing about a joke one of them had said. They had just been wandering around trying to figure out what they should do that night. It was Luke who spotted the girl first, he paused once his gaze landed on her. At first he thought nothing of it, merely shrugged it off as just someone who was drunk way too early into the night. 

But as the group neared closer, he could hear the soft sniffles and immediately reached his hand out to stop Jack, who was walking beside him, “What?”

Jack raised his eyebrow as he followed Luke’s gaze to where the girl was sitting. He looked back at his younger brother and then back at the girl, “What is it?”

“She’s crying, dumbass.”

The conversation halted the other three’s movements, their laughter slowly fading. They made their way back over to the two, making a little huddle as they discussed what they should do, “Should we do something?”

Quinn crossed his arms, slightly worried about the girl even if she was just a stranger. He listened to the others talk before walking up to her, ignoring the group’s sounds of protests, “Hey.”

The girl jumped slightly, rushing to wipe the tears from her face as she looked up at him, “Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

She looked back down, eyes fixed on her sweater covered hands, before she mumbled, “I’m fine.” She picked at the loose strings coming from the edge of the sleeves, oblivious to the looks and mouthed words the boys were exchanging. 

When minutes had passed she finally looked back up to see the five now completely surrounding her. She could tell they had been planning on going out somewhere, probably having a lot more fun then she would’ve had even if her date had shown up. A few of them sent her an awkward smile while the one she had talked to and one of the taller ones sent her genuine ones. 

“We didn’t mean to bother you,” Luke said, “We were just wondering if you were okay.”

Y/n nodded, “I’m fine… just a bad night, I guess.”

Trevor raised his eyebrows, “Just a bad night?” Jack hit him in the stomach and smiled at the girl apologetically, “Sorry about him.”

She cracked a small smile, the first one since she arrived at the shitty bar two hours ago. Cole took this as an invitation to offer what they had been talking about earlier, “We were going to go get some pizza, do you want to come with?”

She moved her eyes to each one, all of them now having a smile on their face, a sincere one. She blinked, slightly surprised at how willing they were to offer her to come with, “I don’t want to ruin your night…”

“You wouldn’t be ruining anything,” Trevor chimed in, “We were just figuring out what to do anyway, no plans whatsoever.”

She hesitated, still unsure, but as she looked up at them she  couldn’t deny that going to get pizza with five random guys would be better than sitting on the curb alone in the cold. She nodded and whispered, “Okay. Pizza sounds good.”

Luke flashed a grin, holding his hand out to her, “Come on, let’s get out of here.” 

She took his hand, using it as an aid to stand up. The four immediately fell into step beside them, making small talk with y/n as they made their way down the street. Luke never strayed far from her, occasionally tightening the grip he still had on her hand. 

“What’s your favorite kind of pizza?” Cole stepped closer to her, leaving Jack behind to continue talking to Quinn. 

She shrugged at first before speaking softly, “Just cheese.”

Trevor came up behind her too, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he pushed Luke out of the way, “Plain cheese. My kind of girl.”

She laughed at his comment, catching her footing as Trevor leaned on her. They all continued their walk to the pizza place, stepping in and immediately being hit with the smell of pizza. THey found a table near the back and sat down, placing their drink order with the waiter that came by. 

“So, what had you sitting on the curb crying?”

She tensed slightly, not sure if she should actually tell them but she looked at all of their gazes and noticed how genuine all of them looked so she spoke up, “I was supposed to go on a date tonight. But he stood me up.”

They all collectively scoffed, “What an ass?”

“He doesn’t know what he was missing out on.”

She laughed, “You guys don’t even know me.”

“So? It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you’re a good person.”

Quinn, who had noticed the sadness still lingering in her eyes, inserted himself into the conversation, “I’m assuming that’s not it?”

She smiled sadly, “It would’ve been my first date in a month… since my ex cheated on me.”

The five of them stared at her with wide eyes, “No fucking way.”

“Yep.” Before anyone got a chance to say something, the waiter came around and handed out their drinks before taking their pizza order. 

The waiter walked away and she immediately said something before they could, “So what about you? Who are the five guys that mysteriously decided to take me under their wing for the night?”

“Well I’m Jack, this is my older brother Quinn and my younger brother Luke. And these are my best friends Cole and Trevor.”

They all waved as Jack said their names, smiling awkwardly in return. They all slowly got to know each other, y/n finding out they all played hockey and which teams they played on. She got told many childhood stories, especially about the three brothers since they had known each other for the longest obviously. Eventually, they got their pizza and continued their conversation as they ate. 

When they were done they slowly headed out the door, paying for their meal beforehand. They all stood outside the pizza place and exchanged glances with one another, “So now what?”

“Well, I should probably head home…”

“Nonsense!” Jack screamed, “Come on let’s go do something. You still need some cheering up.”

“Thank you but I don’t want to impose more than I already have.”

They all shook their heads, “Nah, come on. Let’s go to the fair.”

She was hesitant once again but she saw all of their pleading looks and gave in immediately, “Alright fine. Let’s go.”

The five of them cheered and immediately took off down the street, y/n’s laughter filling their ears.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

They six arrived at the fair, y/n looking around in awe. It had been a while since she’d been to a fair or carnival, the bright lights overwhelming her in the slightest. She followed behind the guys, not knowing where exactly she, or they, were heading. She watched from behind them as they hit each other playfully and laughed before Cole fell behind and walked alongside her, “Hey.”

“Hi.” She looked up at him and furrowed her eyebrows, “What’s up?”

“How much do you like rides?”

“Depends on which one.”

“Ferris wheel, swings, tilt-a-whirl.”

“Ferris wheel it is.”

Cole called out to his friends, “Hey! We’re going on the ferris wheel. We’ll meet up with you later.”

The other four waved him off and y/n smiled at him, “Lead the way Caufield.”

Cole practically dragged her in the direction of the ride, hearing her laugh behind him. She squealed as she almost ran into people, yelling out apologies as they passed by. He never let up, continuing his fast paced walk, or run as y/n called it, through the crowds. She told him to slow down multiple times and even then he would only slow his pace in the slightest.

Once they finally arrived there, she panted, “Jeez. Are you trying to kill me?”

“No! I was just really excited. Now come on before the lines get too long.” She nodded and continued her pursuit after him, managing to get in line before the crowd started to gather. 

Cole grinned at her as they stood in line and y/n couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. Cole looked at her and his grin turned crooked, “What?”

“Has anyone told you how contagious your energy is?”

He shrugged, “Sometimes.”

The two continued to stand in silence, y/n gazing around at the multitude of booths that surrounded her. Some were selling food, deep fried twinkies or churros, she made a mental note to come back later to satisfy her sweet tooth. Others were selling trinkets or shirts or bracelets. She looked around at all the people, some little kids bouncing up and down with happiness as they held their parents hands, a group of teens who were taking pictures on a polaroid camera, and a couple who were holding hands and wearing matching t-shirts. Her smile quickly faded from her face and turned into a frown.

Cole noticed the sudden change in her demeanor and he didn’t let it last long, “So, you’ve ever been on a ferris wheel.”

She looked back at him, smiling softly, “Yeah, a few times, but it’s been a while. I forgot how much fun fairs were, I used to go as a kid with my family.”

“They’re the best, especially at night when you reach the top and can see almost the whole fair from up there. Magic or something.”

“Magic huh?” A teasing smile played on her lips as she nudged him. 

“Hey! Don’t judge me. It’s true.”

She just continued to smile as she faced forward, watching as the line continued to move quicker and quicker. Before she knew it, it was her and Cole’s turn to get on, the two of them quickly sitting in their seats and watching as the worker closed the cabin door. It was just Cole and y/n  in there, sitting across from one another. 

“What’s your favorite part?” She looked over at him with curious eyes.

He smiled once more before answering, “When you get to the top and are lucky enough that that’s where it stops you.”

She nodded in agreement before looking out the booth, “That’s my favorite part too.”

The two fell into a comfortable silence as the wheel took them around twice before finally stopping at the top. Her breath hitched as they stopped, not expecting it in the slightest. She couldn’t help but think back to Cole’s words earlier, it was truly magical. Every noise seemed to fall deaf on her ears as she gazed out at the lights shining brightly, the mass of people running around below her. 

“I told you.”

She hummed as she looked over at him, “Yeah you did. And for the record I never said you were wrong.”

A few moments passed before she spoke again, “Thank you… for this, for tonight.”

“No need to thank me, I’m glad we ran into you.”

That’s when the ride started to move again, bringing the two of them back to the ground. The ride worker smiled at them once more as they climbed out and waved goodbye before helping the next group of people in the car. Cole and y/n laughed as they stumbled down the road, his hand brushing up against hers. The two blushed in unison, looking down before continuing to walk down the street. 

“Want to go find the others?” Y/n nodded but slowed her pace in the slightest, “But let’s take our time, hm? We’re not in any rush are we?”

Cole grinned again, “Not one bit.”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

When they finally found the group of them, they were in the part of the fair that hosted a majority of the carnival games. Jack swung an arm around her, “Well look who’s back. The girl of the hour!”

She blushed again as everyone’s gaze fell upon her, “Hi.”

“So how was the ferris wheel?” Trevor teased as he took a sip of his drink, his raised eyebrows still visible from behind the cup.

“Good.”

“Mhm, what y/n said.” He glared slightly at Trevor but kept his cool for the most part. 

“Haven’t been on a ferris wheel in a while, it was fun.”

“I bet,” Trevor mumbled again and received a smack on the head from Quinn. 

“So, what do you guys want to do next?” Luke interrupted, slightly ticked off from both Trevor’s antics and the blush that was on Cole and y/n’s face. 

They all looked at the girl’s face as her eyes wandered up and down the street awaiting her decision. Her gaze finally landed back on them before she spoke, “Who’s good at games?”

Four of the five of them stepped back immediately at her words leaving Luke the only one standing, “I guess that’s me.”

She took ahold of his hand and dragged him down the way to one of the games, Luke only able to send a wave quickly as he stumbled after her. He watched as she talked animatedly about the carnival games, something along the lines of never being able to win one. Something clicked in his brain and he knew he wanted to win something for her. 

They finally reached one of the booths, the two of them coming to a stop immediately, “Do you think you can win?”

She looked up at him with hopeful eyes, “I’ve been trying since I was a kid.”

He nodded, a small part of him knowing there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to but he sure as hell was determined to win. She watched as he stepped up to the worker, handing her a few bucks before picking up the miniature basketballs. 

One after another he missed but his confidence never waivered even as he continued to hand the worker money. After the third try, y/n stepped up and placed her hand on his arm, “Come on, Luke. It’s useless at this point.”

“One more. I promise.”

She relented and allowed him to hand the worker more money before picking the basketballs up again. This time, all the ones he threw made it into the wooden baskets and he cheered before bringing her into a hug and pointing up at the prizes, “Which one do you want?”

She smiled up at him, “The purple cow. Please.”

The worker nodded and took it down before handing it to the girl who beamed as she took it into her arms, “Finally. After 18 plus years.”

He laughed at her, watching as she played with the stuffed animal’s floppy ears, “You know I don’t think cows are supposed to have floppy ears.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she immediately found comfort in the gesture, “Whatever, it’s cute.”

Luke looked down at her and smiled softly, “Yeah, sure is.”

Oblivious to Luke’s gaze and true meaning of his words, she spoke, “C’mon let’s go show everyone what you won me. My hero.”

He chuckled again before leading her back to the group but going as slow as possible to not have to completely leave her side too early. She looked back up at him with a playful smirk, “So Luke, is this your secret talent? Winning impossible carnival games?”

He laughed, shaking his head, “Not this time. I think I just got lucky.”

“Lucky huh? Or maybe you’re just too stubborn to give up…” She urged.

He shrugged, “Maybe a little bit of both. But it was worth it to see you smile like that.”

A new blush rose to her cheeks and she changed her gaze to the ground, letting Luke guide her through the crowds, clutching the stuffed cow even closer to her.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

“Look what Luke won me!” She hopped over to the group of boys who snapped their heads to look at her. 

They nodded, less enthusiastic than the girl but still trying to make it seem like they were. Quinn was the first one, “How long did it take him?”

Luke rolled his eyes at his older brother, “Oh shut up.”

“I was just asking!”

Y/n shook her head at the banter and stepped away as they continued to argue back and forth. She ended up next to Jack who immediately took notice that she was now by his side, “Hey there.”

“Hi.”

For a while they didn’t say anything, just watching the fight between Luke and Quinn. Then y/n nudged his side and whispered in his ear, “Fried Twinkie?”

He nodded and grinned walking away with her towards the food. The two made their way down, a lot of the crowd had dispersed to the shows now that they had started. There was a small line forming outside of the food truck that sold the fried twinkies, so the two just stood and made small talk as they waited, “So… fried twinkies, huh? Your go-to carnival snack?”

“Yep, always has been. It’s a classic, too. I’ve been eyeing them since I got to the ferris wheel with Cole.”

“Always has been? How many times have you been?”

They moved up with the line and she shoved her hands in the pockets of her shorts, “I used to go all the time with my family when we were kids, but when my siblings grew up and started relenting ‘family quality time’ we just stopped kind of going.”

Jack nodded, “Yeah, I feel that. I mean once we all started to get more serious about hockey we all just kind of forgot to do stuff like that, or at least it was hard to go out without people recognizing us.”

They finally reached the front of the line, the vendor smiling at them happily as he rang up the two fried twinkies. Y/n watched as Jack swiped his card, grateful that the boys had been basically spoiling her since they picked her up on the side of the street. It was hard to believe that this all happened because someone stood her up but she couldn’t find it in herself to care at this point. 

She jumped slightly when she noticed Jack’s hand wave in front of her face, “Lost you there for a sec. Here is your fried Twinkie, m’lady.”

“Why thank you kind sir.” 

The two made their way over to one of the many benches that was set up on the grass. Y/n sat the purple cow on the table next to her, taking a bite of the treat, “I forgot how good these were.”

“I forgot how bad for you these are.”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me you don’t indulge in something sweet once in a while, especially since it’s the summer.”

Jack smirked, “I never said that. I just meant that this is fucking greasy as hell.”

She only nodded, taking another bite. The two sat in silence as they ate and then she saw Jack’s hand reaching out, “What’re-”

His thumb landed on the corner of her mouth, wiping some of the filling of the twinkie away, “You got a little something there.”

Her cheeks flushed at the action, though she couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or flustered. Once they were done, they threw their trash away and y/n resumed her grasp on her cow, “Thanks for coming with me.”

“‘Course, I’m glad you’re having a great time. You deserve it, especially after… well you know.”

She frowned slightly and nodded, “Yeah.”

“Hey come on. No frowns anymore. The night isn’t over yet!”

“Oh, it’s not?”

“Nope! I heard there was this karaoke or dance thing happening soon, we’re definitely going. Let’s go find the guys.”

She lagged at his words and ran after him.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

The two ran up to the group, Jack practically crashing into Cole, “Whoops sorry.”

Cole shoved him back and y/n laughed at the interaction, “Alright so what’s this I hear about dancing?”

“Well we were going to go to karaoke, but someone said no.”

Eyes turned to Luke who shrugged innocently, “What? I don’t really want to get on stage and sing in front of a bunch of people.”

“Buzzkill. But there’s a band performing right now so we figured we’d go check that out.”

Y/n nodded, “Akright.”

The six of them made their way through the fair, walking to one of the many stages they had there. Y/n reached for the closest hand, which happened to be Quinn’s, scared of getting lost in the crowds. Quinn looked down at her and smiled gently, “Nervous?”

“Yeah, just a little overwhelmed.”

He squeezed her hand, “Well I got you.”

A pink tint covered her cheeks for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. They navigated their way close to the middle of the group, nodding their heads along to the beat of whatever song the band was playing. 

As they settled into the middle of the crowd, the energy of the live music began to seep into Y/N’s bones. The band was playing an upbeat, catchy tune that had the entire audience swaying and moving along to the rhythm. Y/n finally let herself relax into the swing of the crowd.

Quinn, still holding her hand, leaned down to be heard over the music. “Feeling better?”

She nodded, giving him a grateful smile. “Yeah, thanks. This is actually pretty fun.”

“Good,” he replied, his eyes twinkling with warmth.

As the band transitioned into a slower, more melodic song, Y/N noticed that couples around them started to pair off, swaying together in time with the music. She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, but before she could overthink it, Jack nudged her playfully.

“Come on, Y/N,” he said with a grin. “You can’t just stand there. Dance with us!”

Before she could respond, Jack took her other hand, spinning her around playfully before pulling her into a gentle sway. Quinn didn’t let go of her other hand, so she found herself dancing between the two of them, feeling a bit like she was in a scene from a movie.

“See? Not so bad, right?” Jack said, his voice light and teasing.

“Not bad at all,” she agreed, laughing as they continued to sway together.

Cole, Trevor, and Luke were nearby, each of them doing their own version of dancing, Trevor of course going completely against the rhythm of the music. As the song progressed, Jack eventually stepped back, letting Quinn take over fully. Y/N looked up at him, their eyes meeting in a way that made her heart flutter. The earlier awkwardness she’d felt was gone, replaced by a sense of comfort.

“You’re a pretty good dancer,” she commented, trying to keep the conversation light even as her heart raced.

Quinn chuckled, his hand still holding hers as they moved together to the music. “Thanks. I guess all those weddings and family events paid off.”

She smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with the summer night air. “Well, you all are definitely making this night unforgettable.”

Quinn’s gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the crowd. “I’m glad. You deserve it.”

“That is the second time someone has said that to me tonight.”

“Oh really?” Quinn’s eyes shined with amusement, “I guess that means it’s true.”

As the song came to an end, they slowly stopped swaying, neither of them eager to let go. But the upbeat music quickly returned, and the moment passed, replaced by the lively energy of the fair.

Jack reappeared, playfully pulling Y/N away from Quinn with a grin. “Alright, enough of the slow stuff. Let’s see if you can keep up with me!”

She laughed, letting him drag her back into the group where they all started dancing together, the worries of the earlier part of the night completely forgotten. They spent the next hour losing themselves in the music, joking around, and simply enjoying each other’s company.

By the time the band announced their final song, Y/N was out of breath, her cheeks flushed from both the exertion and the pure joy she felt. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun, or felt this free. And as the music wound down, the crowd began to disperse, yet the six of them had stayed together, watching everyone push their way out to the entrance of the fair.

Y/n all of a sudden felt heavy and she could feel herself growing increasingly tired. Trevor was the first to notice this, immediately taking a position by her side and letting her lay against him, “Someone’s getting tired.” His voice was light and teasing as he looked down at her.

She mumbled something incoherently, digging her face into the boy’s shoulder. The five of them laughed at her before agreeing to head back to the car. Trevor and Quinn took the main job of helping her walk back to the parking lot, all of them equally as tired as the girl, their feet aching. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

When they reached the car, Luke climbed into the back seat and watched as Trevor and Quinn helped the girl into the middle row. Trevor sat in the middle, Y/n on his left and Cole on his right, as Quinn hopped into the driver’s seat with Jack in the passenger side. 

Trevor shook her slightly, trying to get her to wake enough so she could tell them where she lived or where to drop her off. Y/n blinked her eyes open slowly, looking up at him, “Hm?”

“Gotta tell us where to take you, pretty girl.”

“Wanna sleep.”

Trevor chuckled, “I know you do and you can once you tell us where you live.” 

He slid a phone into her hands and she slowly typed out her address into the search bar of the maps before handing it back to him. He thanked her and handed the phone to Jack who then plugged the phone into one of the charging cords, Siri’s voice making its way to everyone’s ears through the speakers. 

Y/n resummed her position laying against Trevor. She shivered slightly, the drastic temperature change affecting her greatly. Trevor let a smile tug at his lips as he reached into the backseat where Luke was to place it around her. She whispered a ‘thanks’ before resuming her previous action, curling into his side.

Although she was tired, her mind didn’t seem to allow her to sleep so she opened her eyes and tried to find something to focus on. Her gaze landed upon Trevor’s arm, the one littered with tattoos. She couldn’t help but be mesmerized by them and she let her eyes trace up the length of his forearm to his bicep. 

Trevor could feel her stare and finally looked back over to her before speaking softly, “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothin.”

“I can feel you looking, sweetheart.”

She blushed at the nickname although the only tell tale sign was whenever they would pass a street light that lit up her face. He chuckled at her shyness before nudging her again, “You can touch if you want princess. I don’t mind.”

Y/n looked up at him, “Really?”

He nodded, “Go ahead.”

She hesitated at first before letting her hand lay atop his arm, her fingers slowly beginning to trace the ink. She let the silence comfort her and slowly lull her to sleep to start with but then the question burned at the back of her mind, “Do they mean anything?”

“Yes and no, but mostly no. Just things I thought were cool I guess.”

She let out a soft murmur of amusement and continued the path of the shapes his arm had. Slowly she fell asleep and before she knew it they were pulling up to her apartment. Trevor had to be careful with maneuvering her but eventually he was able to pick her up and carry her up the stairs. 

As respectful as Luke could, he reached into her pocket to pull out her keys and unlocked the door. Quinn, Jack, Cole and Luke trailed behind Trevor, all of them finding their way to her bedroom. The five exchanged looks as they stood watching her, “Should we leave or note or something?”

“Probably. I don’t know how much she’s going to remember when she wakes up.”

The others nodded in agreement and slowly filled out of her bedroom but not before kissing her softly on the head and making sure the covers surrounded her entirely and that the curtains in her room were closed all the way. 

They reached the kitchen and searched for pieces of paper, each of them writing their own note with their name and phone number scribbled underneath it. It wasn’t the neatest thing they ever wrote, especially considering that it was mostly dark inside the apartment. Soon after they all left, making sure the lock was secure before walking back to the car and driving away.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

In the morning, y/n woke up groaning slightly. She couldn’t remember what had happened last night except for the fact that she had been stood up. She sat up in bed and looked down at her arms which were clad in a sweatshirt she didn’t recognize. Slowly the memories of the previous night slowly came back to her and she couldn’t help the smile that graced her face. 

She got out of bed and walked to the kitchen, now noticing that she didn’t know if she would ever see the five again. That was until she noticed the five pieces of paper laid out on her kitchen counter, all in different handwriting. 

She made her way over to the counter, sitting at one of the chairs she had there and taking her time reading each note individually. The smile was predominantly stuck to her face as she typed each number into her phone, creating contacts for each of them. 

Finally, she made a group chat with all of them before sending a text, “Hey, this is y/n. Thank you all for last night, it meant a lot to me. I hope it wasn’t just a one time thing, I would enjoy seeing you all again.”

And within minutes of her sending the text, all of them had hearted her message and sent her each a message.

𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗝𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗘𝗩𝗜𝗟𝗦 + 𝗩𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗨𝗖𝗞𝗦 + 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗘𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ୨୧

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