#it's been sitting in my file for over a year and it's been this blog's header for that long so why not?

[highvern]

Red Card

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x f!reader

Genre: smut/fluff, non-idol au, 80s au (aesthetics only), childhood friends to lovers

Warnings: drinking, weed use (not reader tho), skinny dipping, non-graphic injuries (sprained knee), mingyu gets a booboo and reader kisses it better, oral (m & f receiving), face sitting, penetrative sex, protected sex. all of em's biases in one fic

Length: ~12k

Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE WIND BENEATH MY WINGS MS @gyuswhore EVERYONE TELL HER HAPPY BIRTHDAY thank you for dealing with all my tomfoolery on a daily basis. i hope this is a nice treat after the trenches of academia. thank you @haologram and @tomodachiii for beta reading!

Summary: Mingyu's been there through everything. From childhood to now. What happens when he gets hurt and someone else has to step in and play the hero?

m.list

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

You’re going to kill your roommate.

Maybe not this second, when you’re still waking up and the sun has barely started to filter through the blinds and the alarm clock is blaring in your ear. It’s difficult to strangle someone when he’s smothering you with his entire body weight, completely unaware of the fact you can’t breathe because of it.  There's heat and then there's sweating out of your skin because your roommate doesn’t understand ‘what’s mine is yours’ only extends to the food in the fridge.

You’ll strangle Mingyu one day, but right now you’re late for work. 

“Get off!” you fume, pushing at his shoulder with all your strength. 

Mingyu smacks his lips sleepily and burrows further into your neck. You pinch his nipple between your finger and twist.

“Ow! What the fuck?” he screams, shuffling off you and into the wall, eyes wild and clutching his chest like a scandalized old woman

Rolling off the mattress, you navigate the dark of your room looking for your work clothes. “How many times have I told you not to sleep in here?”

“My room is so hot!” Mingyu whines, digging his face into the pillow.

“Yeah, well now my room is too.” You find the floral green and pink dress of your Pier Club uniform. Facing away from Mingyu, you swiftly change into it and look for the matching skirt. It’s offensive, even in the dim predawn. “Do you have work today?”

Mingyu stuffs himself further beneath the blankets, only the very center of his face visible. “Yeah. Covering for JJ.”

“Get up then. We’re gonna be late.”

Mingyu scrambles to his room to get dressed. The bathroom is wedged between his room and Soonyoung's, so you hear a thud, and a curse followed by another louder thud and a grunt of pain. He joins you in the bathroom, dressed in his uniform: pink polo, white pants, and white golf shoes. Like an incredibly tall and sleepy flamingo.

Two people becomes four in a blink, each of you reaching over and under for whatever is needed from the small shelf in the mirror. Your elbow meets Dokyeom’s eye, and someone steps on your foot. 

Soonyoung is pouring coffee into a mug in the kitchen, foot tapping against the linoleum while Dokyeom rushes around trying to find his pants. You’ve lived like this for two years. It doesn’t even phase you.

“If you’re not in the truck in five you’re walking!” Mingyu calls and disappears.

One by one you file out. You detour for the kitchen. The toaster takes two minutes and the coffee pot four but you’re still faster than the other two and get an actual seat in the cab of the truck. There's really no decent way to get in and out of a truck in a skirt anyway so you take the small blessing that comes in the form of cracked leather seats and a door you have to roll down the window to open from the outside.

Dokyeom chases the green Ford down the driveway six minutes later and Mingyu slows down enough for him to hop into the flatbed next to Soonyoung. You’re only two minutes late in the end.

The club is packed with guests all day. By the time dinner service is over and you’ve counted your tips, all you want is to go home and pass out but it’s Seungcheol’s birthday. Despite what he explicitly asked everyone for (an Atari 7800), there’s a bonfire at the beach and if Mingyu is there then you are too. Someone has to pile him and the other boys into the bed of his truck and get them home.

The private section of the beach reserved for locals only is packed. Someone blasts a Bowie track, drunk party goers dancing around the massive bonfire while others relax on logs or sit in the sand and watch. A few people stroll down by the water, splashing through the shallows in the dark.

You stay planted in one of the few real chairs, sipping on a beer while your roommates do who knows what. It’s not that you don’t like parties; but your feet hurt and more than a few people stiffed you today so you’re tired. And now, after a few drinks you’re tired and drunk. But no one is ready to leave so it’s either wait or walk and the five miles back to the house is daunting enough you stay firmly planted.

“Ooo, got any more of those for me?” Jeonghan plants himself in the sand next to you, reaching for the cooler.

You slam the lid down on his hand and pull it out of his reach. “Fuck off, you still owe me for last time.”

He tries cozying up to you; pretending the arm around your shoulder is meant as a sweet hug and not a means to get his hand back in the ice box behind you. “Look, I didn’t drink your vodka. But if I did, it tasted like shit.”

“I’m not talking about the vodka, I’m talking about when you fucked some bimbo in my bed!”

He’s already drunk on someone else’s booze; Seungcheol’s no doubt.  

“Oh. That.” Jeonghan scratched the back of his neck. “Listen, it was a big misunderstanding.”

“What misunderstanding? Your dick couldn’t stay in your pants for three more feet to fuck in Soonyoung’s room?”

Jeonghan balks, eyes glazed in the fire light. “Have you tried having sex on a waterbed? It’s not easy.”

Mingyu, as always, is honed in on your bad mood and comes up the beach smiling, hair a mess in the wind. You don’t stare and focus on slapping Jeonghan’s hands away. “Everything okay?”

“I’m gonna kill Jeonghan,” you mumble. 

“I asked her for a beer.”

Mingyu arches a brow. “Didn’t you fuck some girl in her bed last time we had a party?”

“You’re focusing on the wrong thing. She is drunk and acting like the beer czar. Where is the hospitality?”

“If I give you one will you leave?”

“Yes,” Jeonghan responds immediately.

Mingyu passes him two beers and snaps the cooler shut before the older man can get greedy. Jeonghan salutes Mingyu and then sticks his tongue out at you before leaving for the other side of the fire.

“Eat shit and die!” you call. You love Jeonghan but he’s got a way of grating on your last never. Especially after the girl he hooked up with stained your sheets with fake tan even if he offered to buy you a new bed and sheets.

Jeonghan waves the hand full of beers over his head. “Eat shit and live!”

“Alright, let’s get you home,” Mingyu chuckles. 

In his truck, the radio hums one of his fifty million cassettes. He only breaks the comfy lull at a deserted intersection. “One to ten, how mad would you be if we took a detour?”

“At least five, but it depends on where.” You eye him sceptically. Truly, all you want is to get home, shower, and sleep. But Mingyu had a way of convincing you to go along with whatever plan he’d cooked up.

“Chocolate shakes at Joe’s and then the lookout.”

It’s hard saying no to that. Even harder when Mingyu stares at you like a hopeful puppy. 

Your eyes roll. “Okay, maybe like a two.”

“I’ll get you chili cheese fries.”

“Negative one.”

Mingyu turns right, humming along to the next song the entire way to the drive in diner. Your eyes are heavier each minute but greasy food sounds fantastic and your grumbling stomach keeps you from falling asleep against the door. 

Joe’s sits in all its neon glory, like a little beacon of light in the otherwise quiet beach town. Most of the picnic tables littered outside are covered in people; out of towners, teenage locals with sun bleached hair and frizzy perms, old couples who’ve been coming since milkshakes were invented. Almost all of the workers rushing through the diner in red polos are still in highschool and then there’s Vernon manning the cash register at the window like the captain of a ship. He doesn’t even look like he works here; white cut off tee and neon green swim trunks don’t really match the fifties aesthetic but no one says anything, even the owner.

Vernon doesn’t bother ringing the order up, yelling at the line cooks it’s on the house. He thrusts two paper cups and a greasy paper bag across the counter and greets the next customer in line.

Twenty minutes later Mingyu is parking his truck on the side of the road and trailing across the dunes to the even more secluded beach, one only the most local townies know about. Since most of those are few and far between, it’s just you two planted in the sand, chilli cheese fries and chocolate shakes filling your bellies in no time.

“I think I’m gonna get Joe’s logo tattooed on me.”

“He’ll probably leave the place to you if you did.”

“Vernon is literally named in his will, I’ve seen it.” Mingyu lays back in the sand and closes his eyes.

The waves crash on along the shore, the perfect soundtrack to lull you closer to sleep now that your belly is filled. Beneath you, the sand is just warm enough to be cozy against the chill rolling off the ocean.

“Wanna swim?” he asks.

Sinking deeper, eyes closed, you’re only thinking about how amazing your bed would be right at this very moment. “I want to go to sleep.”

“Studies show you sleep better after swimming.” Mingyu rolls up to his feet, grabbing you in an attempt to get you to agree. He knows you will. Wherever one is the other is sure to follow. It’s been that way since you two were in diapers and Mingyu started walking seconds after you only to chase you around the living room.

You’re deadweight in his arms as you respond,“How would you know? You didn’t go to college.”

“I’m just academically inclined.”

“My apologies,” you gasp. A swim does sound nice for your aching muscles. It’s been so long since you just enjoyed the water. Last time you swam was when you picked up a life guarding shift and an old man screamed bloody murder because he didn’t know how to swim; never mind he was in the shallow end of the pool. 

You finally rise to your feet and shrug off your shirt.

Mingyu joins. He doesn’t shy away as he drops his pants, his shirt floating to the ground next to it. You don’t stare. There’s no need when you’ve seen him nearly naked a million times. But you do catch him staring when you bend over to fold your shorts.

“What?”

Blinking out of his daze, Mingyu bolts for the ocean. “Last one in the water is a rotten egg!”

“You fucking cheater!” you scream and sprint after him. 

He’s far out by the time you catch up, where the waves are just starting to curl in on themselves. You both bob along to their rhythm as the tide pulls in and out. 

Mingyu dives beneath the water, breaching with his hair sticking to his face. His lips are wet and slick. Mingyu pulls you a little, brings you into his chest so the next wave you coast over together. 

You want to kiss him. 

It’s not a new thought; doesn’t surprise you one bit. His mouth probably still tastes like that last sip of chocolate shake. The first and only time you’ve ever kissed Mingyu you were both two out of it to actually appreciate it. It was poetically cruel to give your first kiss away to your best friend only for him to forget it the next day.

It’s easy to ignore the urge to kiss him. You’ve wanted to kiss him again for years. Touching him is an entirely different matter. You can touch Mingyu as much as you like, he likes it when you do and pouts when you don’t. You rarely shy away from a chance to let him touch you either. It’s never enough though.

You twist around him, clinging to his back. Ankles locked across his stomach, Mingyu pulls your hands in front of him and holds your hands; his thumb traces the knob of your wrist over and over in tiny circles. He definitely feels the way your nipples harden through your bra but has the courtesy to ignore it; lets you hide from the cold water in the curve of his neck.

“You need a haircut,” you say. You tug on one of the long locks hanging at eye level, and Mingyu shivers. With so much bare skin pressed against each other you feel the goosebumps blooming on his skin, and when you pull again to see what’ll happen he snatches your hand away and changes the subject.

“Are you gonna be good for the Open this weekend?”

“I’ll be fine,” you yawn. Mingyu pulls your legs tighter around his waist, bobbing you both amongst the waves. It’s dangerously relaxing. “I’m not losing to Seungkwan again this year.”

“We’re not losing to Seungkwan this year.”

“Damn straight.”

You float in silence. Mingyu keeps both of you above water. When you signal you’re ready to go he carries you out of the water, right up to where your clothes lay. He doesn’t let you down as he scoops them up and goes for his car. 

“Show off,” you mumble.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

You’re deposited on the ground next to the driver’s side door. Apparently he can’t hold you and dig up the spare towels he keeps packed beneath the seats. There’s no point in putting your clothes back on over your wet underwear so you ride back to the house wrapped tightly in a towel and Mingyu’s around his waist, chest completely bare.

You blast through a shower, done before the crappy water heated even has time to reach full potential which isn’t much because rent is cheap and your landlord cheaper. But you’re clean and that’s all that matters before you dress and crawl into bed, the door of your room still open. You catch Mingyu passing by on the way back to his room, towel around his neck and the cut sweat shorts he swears don’t need to be thrown out hanging low on his hips. 

“Where are you going?” you call. 

His head pops in, covered in shadow from the hall light. “You said, literally this morning might I add, ‘sleep in my room one more time and I’ll kill you.’”

“Yeah well,” you huff. “My feet hurt. So you can sleep in here if you give me a massage.”

He does and he doesn’t even complain while doing it. Mingyu closes your bedroom door, locks you both in the dark; sits at the foot of your bed, tugging your feet across his lap and setting to work. His thumb digs into the arch of your foot, malting all of your muscles into straight goo. You’ve never been more happy for his overly abundant body heat as he works his hands up your calves. He’s frustratingly attentive as you shiver and wiggle in blissful agony.

In the dark of your room, brain hazy with fatigue, you don’t care you’re moaning at the pressure of his palms working the knots out of your muscles. Mingyu doesn’t acknowledge it but he does knead a little bit hard and you sigh from relief. And then the bastard digs his thumb into that place behind your knee that's painfully ticklish.

“You asshole!” you scream, scrambling away. 

“What’s wrong? I thought you wanted a massage?” he laughs. You try to kick him but he catches your foot and pins it to his stomach. 

“I swear—Mingyu! Stop!”

Thankfully, he does after a few more pleas. You can’t even see him in the dark except for the reflection of the moon through your blinds that clues you into his silhouette. But you know he’s satisfied because he starts humming while massaging once again. It’s nice. You start nodding off to the soft strength of his hands and the rich sound of his voice.

Mingyu prides himself on doing a thorough job in everything so once your ankles and calves are worked into submission his hands reach higher. Almost like he doesn’t realize exactly where he’s going; who he’s touching as he grips just above your knee. Your legs part and Mingyu keeps going. 

Your best friend is beautiful and you love him. Of course, you do. Like every other time you’ve been turned on by him, you staunchly pretend it isn’t happening. Make up some excuse; biology, you’re in love with him. the fact you haven’t been laid in nearly a year, you’re in love with Mingyu, you’ve been drinking, your best friend has his hand beneath the hem of your pajama shorts and you’re in love with him.

“Good?” he asks.

Mingyu lingers there for a second. Then another one. You decide feigning sleep is the less awkward option than begging him to finger you until you can’t see straight. It doesn’t take much pretending; you’re bone dead tired and the second you let it filter in it takes control. Ever the gentleman, Mingyu removes his hands and climbs up to lay next to you.

You actually fall asleep curled against his back. It’s still too hot even with the ceiling fan on high so you both lay above the covers. 

The next morning you wake up the same as always, legs tangled, his chest to your back because Mingyu doesn’t understand personal space – especially your personal space. It’s fine. You’re used to it. It’s your day off which means it’s too early to be awake because it’s still dark in your room. If you try really hard you know you can fall back asleep until noon.

But then you feel exactly what woke you up.

Mingyu has a boner.

You reach back and pinch his side to wake him. You know he’s at least semi-conscious because he whines and tries to hide in your hair as you admonish him. “Get your dick off me.”

“Ignore it, he’ll go away,” his lips smack next to your ear.

“Mingyu,” you whine. “It’s gross.”

He falls back asleep without moving anywhere. If you had pushed at him he would’ve rolled over and given you his back to cuddle up against but you don’t so he doesn’t. You try not to think about how big he is. Or how your underwear are still a little sticky from last night. Or the fact your shorts rode up during the night and the only thing separating your ass from his cock is those damn threadbare sweatshorts. There is also the placement of his hand just below your boobs. Over your shirt because the universe isn’t that cruel.

It’s fine. It’s not the first time he’s gotten hard while sharing a bed. The first place you two rented - freshly eighteen and just starting to have a world without parents breathing down your necks - there was only enough money between you to split one bedroom and have enough money to afford a bed. Thankfully, Mingyu is the cleanest person you know so it worked without bloodshed but it left some very uncomfortable moments in the morning when you’d wake up from dirty dreams about your childhood crush only to find his face a few inches away. Or the other, more awkward, days when Mingyu’s body reminded him he was a hormonal teenager sharing a bed with a girl with zero supervision.

You both refuse to talk about it. Or the times either of you walked in on the other masturbating. 

True to his word, his dick softens against your ass and you try not to be a little disappointed. A world of possibilities if you weren’t terrified of ruining a life long friendship. You could roll over and kiss him. And if he let you kiss him then you’d want to touch him. If you touched him then he’d probably touch you back. In all the years you’d know him you didn’t take Mingyu for a selfish person; or a selfish lover. If he reduced you to a puddle with a simple massage last night then what else was he capable of? 

But you don’t want meaningless satisfaction. You want Mingyu. Everyday, all the time. One hundred percent completely yours. 

Eventually your alarm clock blares and Mingyu rolls out of bed; leaving you all alone as he heads out to work with the other two. You fall asleep once the front door slams shut.

Ten hours later, Mingyu isn’t home. No problem. He probably got roped into doing an extra shift or the last group he caddied for insisted on treating him to a drink. It happens. Often. 

You don’t worry until hour twelve rolls around and Soonyoung and Dokyeom aren’t home either. The restaurant  is closed by this hour, the last tables cleared out and reset for the next day. The pool is closed too. One of them should be home.

The house is too quiet without them. You try reading. Watching TV. Listening to music. Cleaning the kitchen. You try everything you can think of to make that horrible feeling in your stomach go away but it doesn’t.

Then the phone rings.

“Hello?”

The line cracks with a familiar voice. “Hey, it’s DK. Umm…”

“Where the hell are you guys?” you ask.

“Promise me you won’t freak.”

“You saying that pretty much guarantees I’m gonna freak.”

“Okay, listen, everything is fine. Mingyu is okay but—”

“But what?”

“He hurt himself on the course today and we’re at the hospital. Hoshi is on his way to get you right now.”

“What the hell happened?”

“Something twisted wrong or something, I don’t know I flunked out of med school.”

It takes Soonyoung fifteen minutes to get to the house but once he does you feel a little better. You don’t even get to ask before he’s talking.

“He’s fine,” he promises. “Just doped up on painkillers.”

“Did they say what’s wrong?”

“Something with his knee, nothing super serious but he’s supposed to stay off it for like a month or something.”

Soonyoung looks guilty as you take the keys and leave him behind but he has to be up in four hours when the rest of you don’t.

The hospital is nearly deserted this late at night, a few nurses in the parking lot smoking during their break but otherwise you're pretty much alone. Inside the reception area is all sterile lighting and pleather chairs in pastel pink and teal.

A woman in scrubs and feathered blowout sits at the desk answering phone calls and scratching through paperwork.

“I’m here for Mingyu. Mingyu Kim.”

“Room eight.”

You thank her and head back to search for wherever your best friend is holed up. It takes only a few walks around the corridor because unless he aged fifty years, the elderly woman in room eight is not him.

You find him and Dokyeom with their eyes glued to the TV, Scooby Doo reruns stealing their attention. You hover in the doorway.

Mingyu has his leg wrapped from mid-shin up his thigh, knee resting on a stack of pillows. His eyes are glazed from whatever pills the hospital staff gave him before your arrival.

Someone clears their throat behind you. By the scrubs you assume she’s the doctor. “Another friend of Mr. Kim’s?” 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Is he okay?”

“He sprained his knee. Nasty work but not fatal.”

“How?”

She shrugs, pen clicking in her hand. “Over use, stretched too far either side. Good news, he doesn’t need surgery.”

“So he’ll be okay?”

“Since he didn’t tear any ligaments I’d say a few weeks until he recovers, longer if he doesn’t rest properly. And I mean actually rest. At least a week in bed, and then two on crutches. Maybe three but he’ll be okay.”

Mingyu is fine. As fine as he can be with a bum leg for the next few weeks but fine nonetheless. You feel like you can actually breathe again, the anxious part of your brain proclaiming the worst finally silent.

“Alright, thank you.”

Weight off your chest, you enter the room. Dokyeom sees you first and bows out. He knows you’re planning to rip Mingyu a new one. Or cry. You don’t really do well when he’s hurt or vice versa.

Mingyu only notices your presence when you’re standing next to the bed, arms crossed, breath shaky.

“You’re mad,” he whispers, chin tucked to his chest like an upset toddler.

“I’m not mad.”

“Really?” He sounds hopeful, dumb puppy eyes round and wet like he’s ready to cry at the first sound of your disapproval.

“I was mad when you broke your arm because Jungkook talked you into boogie boarding drunk. I was mad when Wonwoo gave you a black eye from his Atari controller. I was mad when you, tweedle dee and tweedle dumb almost flooded the house. Now, I’m furious. What the fuck were you thinking?”

You’re mad because he’s in a hospital bed and you thought he died. And it terrified you.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!”

You break, shoulders sagging in defeat. It isn’t his fault. Freak accident, an overdue inevitable. “I know, I’m sorry. I just… you really scared me.”

“Do you want a hug?”

“Your leg is broken and you’re offering me a hug?”

He stares at you, eyes pretty and dark with huge pupils. “Dude, I’m so high you could tell me you crashed my truck and I wouldn’t care.”

“A hug would be nice.”

It’s uncomfortable to bend at the waist but Mingyu makes it worth it. Sweeps you into his chest, doesn’t comment on the hot tears that damp his neck and shirt but that might have to do with the fact he’s out of his mind. But he also brushes his hand through your hair and kisses the top of your head so it isn’t so bad.

“You didn’t crash my truck, did you?”

“No,” you snort.

You soak in it for a few minutes, let Scooby Doo fill the silence while you sniffle into his collar for a little while longer. And then you're shoving it all away with the realization Mingyu can’t work if he can’t get around the resort.

“Doctor said you’re out of work for at least a week. And after that you’ll probably be stuck in the laundry room because I doubt Jin wants you hobbling around the cabana with crutches.”

“Fuck,” he whispers.

“Yeah. Fuck,” you agree. “I’ll figure something out, take more shifts. Josh needs more surf instructors too so I can pick those up. Hoshi probably owes one of us money.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It's just gonna be a tight winter is all.”

“What about the Open?”

“Jungkook can fill in for you. If we win, he takes half of your share. It’s better than nothing.”

He mutters something you don’t hear. Probably more high protests and apologies. It smells like antiseptic.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

It takes three nurses, Dokyeom, a wheelchair, and an infinite reserve of your patience to get Mingyu in the bed of his truck. His knee is bandaged in the split so thickly he can’t move it and he’s too tall to sit in the passenger seat with his leg straight so the truckbed is the only place for him to go. You try to drive responsibly but it’s late and you're burnt out from a long day.

Back home, Hoshi is passed out in his room, the stink of weed warning you not to wake him. Dokyeom offers to help but thankfully, even high on painkillers, Mingyu acclimates to crutches enough to get from outside to his room.

“You smell,” you say to cut the tension.

“How am I supposed to shower like this?” He gestures to his leg. You know the warning signs of his temper. Mingyu will pretend it doesn’t bother him but it clearly does; having to ask for your help to do something as simple as shower.

“I could hose you down in the yard.”

He pouts. The meds must be wearing off at this point. “I’m sure that would make you feel better.”

“Nah, I’d be the one who has to clean you off the driveway afterwards.” You shake your head. The bathroom is small, the shower stall smaller but Mingyu needs a shower. “Give me a second.”

One of the plastic lawn chairs from the back porch fits perfectly in the stall. You lay out everything he could need: soap, towels, a trash bag to wrap over the stint. Then you head back towards your room to get him.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Mingyu hobbles alongside you, easily maneuvering the hallway but the bathroom is more difficult. There isn’t space for his crutches so he slumps into your side, way heavier than the time you had to drag him home higher than a kite. 

It’s claustrophobic with him basically on top of you but he’s capable of underdressing when you park him against the counter and focus on angling the shower head so he doesn't end up accidentally waterboarded. 

“Underwear stays on. I don’t want to see your dick.”

“Yeah, well, he’s pretty scared of you right now anyway.”

After helping him into the chair you leave him to his business with strict instructions to yell for you when he’s done. You use the time to clean your room. Clothes off the floor, bed made so he can sleep with a few extra pillows you snagged from his bed where you’ll be sleeping.

He’s got a bum leg, the least you could do is give him the better room.

You do everything the nurses told you. An ice pack and a hot water bottle all sit on the side table ready for Mingyu after you fish him out of the tub.

A yell of your name is your cue.

Mingyu sits soaked and pathetic. He couldn’t reach the towels you laid out, so you have to hand them to him. Turns out it’s also more difficult getting him out than in, you have to touch and pull and push him. His skin lingers with warmth from the water and a little slippery so it’s even harder. Mingyu is no help at all. A Great Dane who thinks he’s a Chihuahua.

He’s out like a light once he’s in your bed. Dead asleep beneath the covers with his leg sticking out to the side. You tuck him in extra tight, snagging the forgotten provisions and returning them to the kitchen. 

You come back to grab clothes and leave but Mingyu sits awake with the covers pulled back for you to join.

“Come on,” he beckons.

“I’m not sleeping in here.”

His eyes shoot open, attempting to sit up, “Why not?” 

“Your knee—” you start.

“Let me worry about my knee.”

Sure. Like that’ll happen.

“Physically impossible for me not to worry.”

“The doctor said it’s bad for me to be lonely.” He pulls the covers back again and your chest aches. 

“She did not.”

“She did too,” he grunts. 

“Fine. Close your eyes, I need to change.”

He zips them shut. Throws an arm over his face for dramatic effect. You rush into a clean shirt (his) and shorts and dive beneath the covers.

“You’re so far away,” Mingyu whines. 

“Mingyu stop!”

He doesn’t. He uses all those muscles against you and drags you up his chest. “Come here.”

“Happy?”

“Yep.”

Your head is cradled heavy on his chest, the argument dying out. He falls asleep quickly and you follow right behind.

In the morning, Mingyu complains about his leg until you leave for the last minute shift you begged off Chan. The next two days are the same. Mingyu stays on the couch or tucked away in your room while everyone else scrambles around him. Until the weekend comes giving all of you time off.

Saturday is the Open. The biggest doubles volleyball tournament on the beach, boasting a first place prize of two grand. Seungkwan and Seungcheol won the last two years and never let either of you forget it for standing a foot below them on the podium, firmly in second and a thousand dollars poorer than them.

Two years in second place buys you into the semi-finals. Thank god, because Jungkook and you haven’t played together in years and he’s an even bigger ball hog than you remember.

“Talk!” Mingyu calls from his chair like a washed up coach. You argued with him for hours over whether or not him coming to the beach was a good idea given he’s done everything but what the doctor recommended. But he’d be damned if you beat Seungkwan and he wasn’t there to gloat about it.

Dokyeom and Soonyoung serve as his assistants, hitting over the net while you and Jungkook scramble to dig every single one up like it’s do or die.

“That one was clearly mine!” Jungkook argues.

“It was going out of bounds!”

“It was close!”

It’s been like this all morning. While the other courts are playing to qualify you and Jungkook try not to rip each other's throats out. It’ll take a miracle to win a single point let alone the two matches you need to win.

You just want the day over with so you can drown your sorrows in a chocolate shake and think about how satisfying it would be to launch it at your friend’s head at warp speed.

The first game is hard and fast. Jungkook saves your ass more times than you can count, committed to winning even if it sends him crashing into the line of spectators sitting courtside. It doesn’t help you win the first set one bit. Jaehyun successfully blocks nearly every attempt Jungkook makes at the net and the ones that do slide through fly out of bounds.

You don't take well to failure and neither does Jungkook. 

Somewhere around the third rally of the second set you two find a cohesive back and forth. Jungkook digs a cut shot, you set him up and he’s there with a kill. It happens again. The third time Jaehyun gives up on sending it deep and drops the ball right over the net and the miracle you needed happens because you get it up enough for Jungkook to return it and earn the point. 

It starts to feel good. Adrenaline lifting you to the next level, vision narrowed down to you and the game. Lung straining, muscles burning, your skin hot from the sun. Your swimsuit leaves plenty of skin exposed to collect more sand with each impact on the ground. The wind picks up slightly, and turns the sound of waves and the crowd into one dull murmur..

You and Jungkook win two sets to one.

He’s sweaty and covered in sand when he sweeps you into a hug, a victory cry loud on his lips. It isn’t the final match but it’s the small victories that count. Jungkook loves winning, he only likes you and mostly for Mingyu’s sake. The friend of my boyfriend's friend is my friend too, or something like that.

Mingyu and Jungkook are the boyfriends.

On the side lines, Mingyu looks happy. Tired but happy. He’s like a king holding court, friends and strangers circling around him for an ounce of attention. Most of the people at the resort haven’t seen him since he busted his knee and check he’s okay. The others are out of towners attracted to a pretty boy with a sad cast and tendency to talk a mile a minute with anyone who’d listen. 

You push them all out of the way and celebrate with him.

“We did it!”

“Yeah,” he nods. That’s all the celebration you get from him before he’s on to the next game set to start in five minutes. “You and Jungkook need to keep Kwan from hitting. Serve short, hit deep.”

It's weird but you don’t focus on it. You need water and to get back on the court.

“Got it.” 

Seungkwan doesn’t shit talk. It’s mostly Seungcheol at the net trying to bait you into an argument while Jungkook readies to serve.

“How’s your boyfriend?” he jabs.

“How’s yours?” You focus on the sand beneath your feet, the breeze off the wave. He’s been trying to get under your skin with that line for years. It won’t work now. 

First point, you and Jungkook.

The next five, Seungkwan and Seungcheol.

The score goes back and forth, a slim margin for error as the number climbs closer to twenty-one. 

You hit the next set, aiming for the wide gap between Seungkwan and the line. The ball sliced across the net, Seungcheol misreading it by just a hair and the momentum of his block swinging him the opposite direction. It’s perfect. It heads straight for the line and lands without Seungkwan able to save it in time. 

The crowd breaks into applause. The official blows his whistle…

And calls it out.

“That was a touch! Are you fucking blind?” Mingyu yells.

You wince at the next whistle as she flashes him a yellow card.

Fuck. 

He’s up at the perimeter of the court fuming, hands on his hips through his crutches. You march right up to him, identical scowl.

“Mingyu, I swear if you get a red card, I will shove my foot so far up your ass—”

The whistle blows and Seungkwan serves without waiting for you to be ready. It’s a rocket right where you should have been standing.

Seungkwan and Seungcheol take the first match by four points.

The second match starts worse. You’re out of rhythm, fuming at blowing the last set. Jungkook fills in the best he can and keeps you two from totaling blowing it. Fifteen to seventeen with your serve.

You pop it over the net, Seungkwan reading it easily. But a last second gust pushes it of course.

Ace.

Lucky isn’t as strongly on your side for the next serve but it’s good enough. Jungkook passes. With a quick set, he rises above the net, hanging midair. A quick snap of his arm delivers a hit neither opponents on the other side of the net can reach. The ball slams into the sand right before the line.

It’s tit for tat. One up one down. Your body hurts, covered in bruises from diving over and over again but you don’t stop. Jungkook doesn’t either.

Match point comes swiftly. Seungkwan tosses the ball in the air and unleashes a deep serve. It’s fast but you’re underneath it but the angle is wrong. Jungkook dumps it over the net out of Seungcheol’s reach but Seungkwan is there. 

No one’s giving an inch. Just when the ball nearly drops someone picks it up. Everyone plays ugly, scrappy. 

A break comes when Seungcheol passes too high, right on the net. Seungkwan knows it, you know it. You race to joust. Pushing with everything you’ve got until the ball gives. It falls to the sand.

On the other team's side.

Everything blurs. You tackle Jungkook to the ground, cheering. Your friends race onto the court shouting. There’s a dog pile someone has to pull you out of because you can’t breathe underneath them all but you don’t care. Your ears ring, eyes nearly shut from how wide you smile.

You’re carried away for the podium ceremony, Mingyu nowhere in sight. It feels pretty damn good being on top. The heavy weight of the gold medal keeps you grounded. But your best friend is missing and a part of you is gone with him.

You don’t find him until the after party at the locals only beach. He’s got a red cup and a scowl on the tailgate of his truck. 

“Where’d you go? I didn’t see you at the podium.”

“You seemed fine on your own.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he mumbles into his cup.

“Why are you being such a Debbie downer? We won!”

“You guys won. I got to sit there and watch.”

“Okay? You’re still five hundred richer than this morning.”

“Party over here?” Jungkook interrupts. He’s got a joint between his fingers and a beer bottle. “Before I forget, this is yours.”

He shoves an envelope into Mingyu’s hand, taking the open spot on the tailgate next to him before laying back and looking at the stars.

“I’m gonna grab another beer.”

Mingyu moves surprisingly fast when he wants to. Even with crutches on loose sand he’s back by his truck and waiting for you to leave.  

“What’s got sand in his swimsuit?” Jungkook asks. 

“He’s just… bummed about not playing. It’s fine.”

Jungkook snorts in disbelief. “You think that’s why he looks like a kicked puppy?”

“Then enlighten me, wise one.”

“Why do guys do anything?”

“Because you all lack basic brain function?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and takes another drink. “To impress girls.”

“I’ve seen your belching contests. Not exactly panty dropping material.”

“Okay obviously not that.”

You had no idea Mingyu meant to impress anyone today. He hadn’t mentioned it, usually he doesn’t need to. Some tourist in for the summer hanging off his every word gave clear intention where his interest laid but since his knee you saw all of zero prospects.

“You two are so fucking stupid,” Jungkoook snorts. “You, YN. He wanted to impress you.”

“That makes no sense.”

“He hasn’t had a real girlfriend since you two started living together.”

You take a long sip before answering.. “So? You haven’t had a real girlfriend ever.”

“Bitch.”

“Slut.”

“Mingyu wanted you two to win. Together,” he emphasises. “Because guys want to impress the girls they like.”

“Oh…oh.”

“Get it now?”

“How do you know?”

“If I have to have one more bro chat with him on how to tell you I’m going to take his crutches and beat him to death with them.”

“Got it.”

You despise the tiny part of you that screams like a little girl finding out her playground crush knows her name. He likes me! He likes me! She squeals, bubbling around your stomach like champagne. 

Drunk on the power itching at your fingertips, you turn to find Mingyu. He’s right where you know you’d find him, a log near the fire, tossing in tiny sticks and watching them disappear in the flames.

“Ready to leave?”

Mingyu nods and gets to his feet, crutches carrying him to his truck. You take the driver's seat and peel out of the lot. 

“How mad would you be if we took a detour?” you ask.

“I wanna go home,” he grunts, staring out the window.

“I want to celebrate with just you,” you share. “Please?”

He melts but clings to the stubborn tone. “Okay.”

Another night at the lookout except this time you’re the one cheering him up. You park his truck closer to the water, he can’t very well get in but you want him to be able to at least see the ocean. He hobbles around to the flatbed and plants his ass on the tailgate.

“I think I’m gonna swim.”

“Okay.”

You tug off your shirt, then your pants. Then your bra.

That’s what freezes Mingyu with bug eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Swimming,” you shrug. He catches your swim bottoms as you launch them at his chest. 

“Naked?” he squeaks.

“Who's gonna see?”

“Uhh, me?”

“So? Maybe I want you to.”

You step closer, hands on his spread thighs and squeeze. 

“What?”

Mingyu doesn’t look beneath your collarbone and you smirk.

“A little birdie told me you have a crush.”

His lips form around words but no sound comes out. Maybe you’re being unfair by standing between his legs completely naked, eying him expectantly.

“Do you?”

“I…” he chokes.

“Think about it,” you whisper. His lips are warm against yours, soft and yielding. Then, you turn to sprint towards the ocean.

Mingyu apparently comes back to himself quickly, sputtering and laughing as you disappear beneath the waves. “You can’t just do that!”

Late night swims aren’t as fun without him around to keep you warm. You dip under the water and come up with soaked hair. You only last five minutes before heading back to where he waits, all your nudity on display but Mingyu keeps his eyes on yours, beaming like an idiot.

The second you’re close enough he tugs you into his chest and kisses you. For real this time. There's more to it than simple payback. He kisses you long and hard, pours all his want into it and takes what you give him in return. His tongue rolls across your lip before you open your mouth, a moan bubbles from one of you.

“I can’t believe Hoshi got to kiss you before I did,” he sighs.

You nestle closer. Right into the warmth of his chest, the soft fabric of his baggy shirt and cologne better than anything else in the world. 

“What do you mean Hoshi kissed me before you did? You were my first kiss dingus.”

“What?”

“Ninth grade, Dokyeom’s parents went out of town and we raided the liquor cabinet.”

He stares back at you blankly. You’re still naked.

“You literally begged me to kiss you because you thought you had alcohol poisoning and would die.”

“Oh my god.”

You kiss his cheek and he loves it, pushing into your lips for more with a happy smile. 

“I knew you didn’t remember.”

You nuzzle down his neck, savoring the warmth of his skin against your mouth; nipping until he shudders. You want him as naked as you. But despite the beach being secluded it’s very much public and you don’t need to be caught the first time you get to kiss him.

“In my defense, I thought that was a dream.”

“How often do you dream of me kissing you?”

“Pretty often.”

“How often is that?”

“Almost every night.”

“You’re such a sap.”

He doesn’t deny it. He’s too busy cupping your face and kissing you again, less tongue and yearning; slings an arm around your waist forcing you infinitesimally closer. It’s sweet at first, lingering touch against your naked back. Catalogues the knobs of your spine with painstaking slowness. Lower. Your waist, the sway of your hips. Then he’s got his hand on your ass, a gentle squeeze of exploration, and you feel a little bit guilty such sweet kisses turn you on so much.

“Come on, let’s get home.”

You back away, snagging the blanket he pulled out earlier and hiding your body as he trails behind. “Are you gonna drive home naked? Because that’s a new fantasy I didn’t know I had.”

“How many fantasies do you have?”

“Where do you want me to start?”

“Calm down, Casanova,” you snort. You tug on the spare clothes collected in his truck; a holey, oil stained t-shirt and a pair of sweats. They smell like him.

“Hey.” Mingyu tugs your hand across the center seat and brings it to his lips. He’s blushy but it might just be from a long day beneath the sun. Or from the boner he’s not even attempting to hide. It’s cute. 

“Hey.”

“I do have a crush on you.”

“I kinda figured.”

“Since like high school.”

“Good,” you comment. “Same.”

An anticlimactic confession but it fits between the two of you. You’ve always been the black cat, a little more out of reach in terms of affection but Mingyu has enough words of affirmation for the both of you. You’re much more adept at showing him how you feel anyway. It’s why you’ve been playing nurse for the past week. 

He keeps your hands tangled the entire way home, slides closer on the bench seat so his side heats against yours. There aren’t many stop signs on the way home but the ones you do hit last longer than needed because Mingyu uses it as an excuse to tilt your face towards him and kiss you again and again. Your lips, your nose, between your brows; slowly, savoring every second.

He’s used to his crutches so getting into the house and locking the door takes only a blink. The other two aren’t home which is a blessing in a curse because in the dark of your room you realize it’s just you and Mingyu. No more barriers in the way, no one to interrupt. It’s unbearably awkward in a way it’s not been since you were nineteen and walked in on him rubbing one out of your shared bed at four in the afternoon.

“Um…”

“Yeah—”

“So,” you stutter. 

Mingyu takes it on himself to reign things in.

“You like me, right?” He doesn’t wait for a response. “And I like you. Well, love you and not just as my best friend but I probably shouldn’t say that—wait! Shit! I didn’t mean that. I mean I did mean that but I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Gyu.”

He collapses onto the corner of your bed, freaking himself out. Ripping his hands through his hair, continuing to panic. “Of course, I love you. You’re my best friend and—”

“Gyu.”

“And if you don’t want to try dating me that’s fine! I’d never make you do something you didn’t want to. I don't think I could, you’re pretty stubborn. Which I like! But—”

“Mingyu!”

“What?”

“Take a breath,” you command. You’re freaked out too but Mingyu’s worse at hiding his feelings. Always has been.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, just relax a little. Please. You’re freaking me out.”

A crash echoes from outside the door. Glass breaking and some loud curses of one drunken roommate and a decidedly sober sounding Dokyeom shushing him. 

“Sorry,” Mingyu whispers.

“So you love me, huh?”

“I—” he chokes, and then cuts himself off to nod.

Mingyu, who likes to pretend he’s cool and smooth, reduced to a tight bundle of nerves as he sits on the edge of your bed and waits for your response. He looks at his hands. They flex anxiously together as the silence stretches on. You decide on mercy.

“It’s okay. I love you, too.”

Mingyu’s head shoots up so fast you’re afraid he gives himself whiplash. All you can do is smile, embarrassed by the way he stares at you in awe.

“Really?” He’s already pulling you closer

Biting your lip to control the grin attempting to split your face in half, you nod gently. In his lap, you wrap your arms across his shoulders and say it again. It’s quiet outside the bubble you two have made for yourselves but you like his childish giggles as the only thing tickling your ears.

Innocent touching turns lewd in slow measures just like the beach. Your both more deliberate because getting Mingyu out of his pants is a team effort, underwear firmly in place because you haven’t decided if you’re going to fuck him yet. You want to. But they serve as reassurance you don't rush to a good ending. 

Your shirt comes off, then your pants. You shepherd him to the headboard. Fully naked in his lap, Mingyu traces his fingers over your softest parts. It makes you squirm enough you kiss him to break the itch in your gut from nearly innocent touching. But it only makes it worse. He kisses you with just enough vigor to tease; pulls you closer, a tight grip on your waist you’d struggle to break out of if the thought crossed your mind. A tug encourages your rutting against the hard tent of his underwear.

It’s so much better than anything else before. Mingyu seems to agree, panting and grunting against your throat. You could just do this. It’d be enough to come; more than, as Mingyu sinks down further in the pillows and sucks your nipple gently between his lips. His tongue rolls flat and hot against it before switching to the other one. Your jaw slacks, mouth dry from heavy breaths.

“F-fuck, Gyu.”

He sucks harder and your hips follow, the line of his cock beneath his boxers nothing short of incredible. You’re a little embarrassed from how wet you are. Wet enough to soak his briefs a shade darker. But Mingyu takes charge, manhandles you across his cock with painful friction that makes you limp and pliant.

“Oh my god, Mingyu,” you taper off in a moan. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“‘Mingyu, it’s gross!’” he mocks and then hisses from your teeth on his neck. “Not exactly a confidence boost.”

“Yeah, well, I only said that because I wanted to you to—fuck—fuck me.”

Fishing his cock out from his underwear, you lazily jerk him to full mast which takes only seconds. Mingyu bucks into the swipe of your thumb. You move to suck away the mess collecting there.

“Shit! Ow! Ow!” he winces.

Immediately, you’re off him. “What’s wrong? Is your leg okay?”

Mingyu grits his teeth, head falling back against the pillows. “You hit my leg.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry!”

“This isn’t sexy.” He sinks into the mattress, hands hiding his frustration. 

He’s laying in your bed, in only his underwear and the pale moonlight sneaking through the window. You couldn’t disagree more.

“I don’t know.” You kiss his cheek. “It's kinda hot.”

“Oh yeah, it’s great that the first time I get to do anything I can’t even make it good for you.”

“Now, that’s just ridiculous.”

“Stupid fucking leg.”

“Alright, calm down.” You can’t help but laugh. You try to stifle it but he hears it before you do and pouts even harder. “Maybe we should wait.”

He's got you back in his lap, wincing through the sudden pressure on his knee. “No, it's fine! I promise!”

“If it hurts it’s not fine,” you admonish. Mingyu doesn’t let you go though. You don’t really want him to. “Just lay back and relax, okay?”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I’m gonna blow you  and then I’m gonna fuck you.”

You say it like a promise. Mingyu’s eyes widen, jaw dropping at your lewd threat. His cock twitches against your palm and you soothe it with a quick stroke. He ruts into it again.

“Oh.”

“Sound good?” you ask, another slick glide across the leaking tip. He’s shaking.

“Sounds great.”

You kiss down his front, raze a nipple with your teeth until he whines. Even with the order to relax his hands can’t stay still. On your back, in your hair, pulling at the sheets as you tongue across his abs. You’re nearly sent crashing to the floor while bruising his hip bone. 

This time, you’re extra careful when kneeling between his sprawled legs. Your ass high in the air for his pleasure, him sprawled out on the pillows for yours. He’s pretty. The moonlight slipping between the blinds casts him in a pale glow, lines of light crossing his body and illuminating all the best parts: tangled hair from your hands, swollen lips from your kissing, a splotchy hickey on his hip claiming him as yours.

His cock spills from the band of his underwear, hard and waiting. You keep watching as you suck the tip of it. His eyes open at that, watching you watching him and he can't decide if it's heaven or hell right there beneath you on the mattress.

“Oh my god.”

It’s slow work to roll his underwear down without jostling his bad knee but you distract him with teasing caresses of every newly revealed inch of skin. There isn’t much you haven’t seen but you’re eager to get reacquainted. Fingers, then lips, then soothing the sting of your teeth with some wet pecks. And then you draw his cock across your tongue for the first time and he jumps.

“Holy shit.”

“What?” you garble around a mouthful of cock. 

There isn’t really a good angle with his knee in consideration so the rhythm of your hand is lackluster at best. You make up for it with hollowed cheeks he can’t look away from, and he actually throbs between your swollen lips as your tongue traces every ridge and vein meticulously. Each time he starts to answer your question you suck the head until he whines.

“You’re…” he sighs. “this is gonna sound weird but I’ve only dreamed of you doing this since we were like sixteen.”

A brief break for the sake of your jaw gives you time to joke, “No pressure.”

“It’s already better than I thought if that means anything.”

“Stop being cute, I'm trying to suck your dick.”

You cut off his rebuttal with a swallow and his eyes nearly bug out from his skull at the sight. His hand rests on the back of your head, gathering your hair to keep it out of the way. “Is this…”

You nod enthusiastically before he even finishes his thought, mouth watering at the possibilities. You ache for it. You want him to call the shots and let you follow merrily behind, bent to his whim.

“Open your mouth, baby.”

You open wide for his cock to brush the back of your throat softly. Not too much just yet while he gathers the confidence to maneuver you the way he needs; the way he’s apparently been dying to for years. 

He’s got one hand on the back of your head, the other tangled in the sheets as you suck him rigid. Brace for a gentle gag, just enough for him to hear, and the taste of sticky pre-cum floods across your tongue. You get a few more drags of your tongue up the head of his cock before he leverages to grip in your head and pulls you off.

“Okay, okay. Stop.”

“What’s wrong? Is it your leg?”

Mingyu ignores your question. His only response is a sloppy kiss with too much tongue but you can’t fault him for it with the pleasant heat of his hands on your ass once more. 

“Wanna eat you out,” he grunts.

You snort at his optimism. “I can see some issues with that.”

He lifts you up his chest. It’s horrible that someone with a face like his is also a muscle pig who can bend you anyway he wants even with an injury; Jungkook fully to blame for too many workouts on the beach. Mingyu has you up his chest before you realize where this is going.

“Sit on my face.”

“I—” you blink. Porn isn’t a good reference for sex, not that you’ve seen much since the only TV sits in the living room. You’ve seen the magazines your friends buy as gag gifts though and the thought of Mingyu smothered in your cunt makes you sweat. “Are you sure?”

Apparently it’s a stupid question because Mingyu just pulls you further up until you’re kneeling over him and he’s got enough room to deliver soft licks to your core.

You don’t care how loud you’re being or the fact you share a wall with Dokyeom who doesn’t deserve to hear your pathetic moans in surround sound. Mingyu abuses your clit, sucks and licks and kisses with lewd vigor until you rut down into it.

You need a break. Just a second to regain sanity but Mingyu isn’t that generous. He holds you by your ass, palms it so hard you squeak as he moves you against his mouth, drops one hand when he’s confident you aren’t planning to run away again. The stretch of two thick fingers crook just right to have you seeing stars.

“Th-there.”

Mingyu hums into the sloppy mess of your cunt, holding steady as you fuck yourself along his face, tongue out to swipe messily at your clit. His head shakes back and forth and makes you whine to the ceiling fan. You savor the rhythm he sets, thick fingers working to prep you, stretching and spreading until your stomach dips. He knocks every tight noise in your chest out with each rush.

“That’s…Just like that. Gyu, please.” You nails scratch against the wall aimlessly. He stretches and stretches, molds you to him and every one of his whims. 

Until all you can do is snap.

You’re wobbly on jelly knees, clit numb even while Mingyu suckles against it softly for your come down. You roll off carefully to sit bubbly and golden back in his lap. Eyes closed, you lean blindly into his space and squish his cheek with yours.

He’s just as messy as you feel. Face wet, choked breaths and racing pulse, you deflate against each other. The bloodlust for satisfaction lulls to a simmer. You use it to enjoy all the warm skin on skin contact.

Aftercare comes in the form of lips dragging over wherever either of you can reach, no energy for real kisses just savoring the lazy motion. The hands that plucked you into a whimpering mess massage your thighs, your back; pull and tangle his fingers between yours.

“When my knee is better I’m gonna do that for an hour.”

“Lucky me,” you huff. 

You find his mouth, suck his bottom lip between yours until he demands more. His cock rests against his stomach, hot to the touch. Gentle at first. Teasing with a light brush of your fingers. Then getting a tight grip around him until he bucks.

“Want you,” Mingyu groans, pulling you further up his thighs. “Wanna fuck you.”

On your knees, you position over him to do just that but he stops you.

“Condom?” 

Good thing at least one of you is thinking because you didn’t even think about it. Your nightstand drawer is barren, not even an empty box left. Not a single condom wrapper in sight.

“Fuck. Do you have any in your room?”

He doesn’t. Which means you’re at the mercy of your roommates and their ability to practice safe sex.

You tug Mingyu’s shirt over head but even if it hides your nudity you smell like sex and have the glow on your features to back it up. There’s flaking pre-cum and spit against your chin.Whatever, you’ve heard your roommates howling like dogs enough times to earn your own night of debauchery.

“Hosh.” You rap on his door but he doesn’t answer. When you open it he’s face down in the pillow, trash can close by. You watch just long enough for his chest to expand to make sure he isn’t dead before prodding him in the side.

“Wha? What?” he mumbles through drool.

“Condoms?”

He stares at you with all the sentience of rock before answering. “I can’t sleep with you, Mingyu will kill me.”

“You stupid bitch,” you sneer, slapping him with his own pillow. “Where are your condoms?”

Soonyoung buries himself back into his sheets. “I don’t have any.”

“Oh my god.”

You fly out of his tiger den and to Dokyeom’s door down the hall.

“Kyeom?” You knock. “Dude, are you awake?”

He actually answers the door. His bedside light is still on, some comic book left open on his bed. “Is someone dead?”

“No. Do you have a condom?”

“For who?”

Your eyes roll. “Me, dumbass.”

“Who’s the guy?” Dokyeom looks at you like he doesn’t believe it. Maybe the walls are more soundproof than you thought.

“Mingyu.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, really! We can have girl time later, but I need a condom. Now.”

He forces his entire stash, an unopened 32-count box, into your hands before pushing you back into the hallway with a quiet ‘good luck.’

Your roommates are fucking weird.

Tucked back in the dark of your room, Mingyu is waiting.Blanket wrapped around his waist, propped against the headboard just like you left him.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he smiles. He looks a little pathetic. 

“Did you know Dokyeom keeps a thirty-two pack in his room?” You hold up the evidence as proof.

“Apparently, he’s seeing some waitress at the Kellerman.”

“Enough times he needs a bulk box of rubbers?”

“Clearly not if he gave them to you.”

“I think it’s more like a ‘congrats on finally getting together’ present.”

“How thoughtful of him,” he snorts. “Now come over here. I missed you.” 

“Can’t have that, can we?” You kneel on the bed next to him. His hand sneaks up the back of your leg, beneath your shirt to cup your ass.

“Yeah, the doctors said it was bad for me.”

“Well if the doctors said…” You lose the thought in a gentle sigh against his mouth. Mingyu peels your shirt - his shirt - over head and banishes it to the floor. You're naked in his lap and he’s naked beneath you; it makes you clench.

He covers every inch of your naked skin in soft kisses, puffs of breath heating your neck as you stroke his cock hard enough to slip the condom on.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

You balance on shaky knees, sheathing him inside you in a slow descent. He wants to fuck up into you so badly. You can feel it in the way his hands squeeze on your hips, his stomach dips as you take more. Everything about Mingyu is big, including his cock. Big enough you could sit there all night and never get used to the stretch, or the way he whispers sweet praises into your temple.

Good girl. My favorite. Perfect for me.

When you finally bottom out, ass flat to his thighs, pressed tight to his chest, you whimper, “M-Mingyu.”

He groans into your cheek. “Love how you say my name.”

It’s all on you to make this good. You rock forward, instantly dissatisfied with the emptiness of your core and immediately moving to end the feeling. You grind on him and that feels better. He wedges deep and stays there; presses your buttons from the inside out as he mouths across your shoulder.

You’re so wet, soaked from his mouth, and his thumb takes advantage by gluing to your clit, tight circles that make you spasming. He guides you while nipping back up to your mouth, one hand heavy on your ass. 

“Oh, keep doing that,” he moans when your nails dig into his chest. 

The slap of skin against skin is background noise to grunts and groans and pathetic whines that meld between your mouths. Lightheaded, you aren’t even kissing, open mouths brushing against one another with narrowed vision. 

“Is it,” he gasps. “Is it bad if I ask you to turn around?”

“D-depends why you’re asking.”

“Wanna fuck you from behind. Wanna watch you take my cock.” He squeezes your ass to punctuate the request.

“Watch me like this.” You lean back, carefully to balance on the mattress and not his legs. Mingyu glues onto the unobstructed view down your front: your throat, your breasts, the way your cunt clings to his cock on the upstroke. “You like it?”

Hips finding a jilted rhythm, Mingyu snakes a hand up your chest and twists your nipple until you nearly collapse. “So good, it looks so good.”

“Next t-time,” you hiccup. “You can fuck me however you want. Want you to…fuck me from behind.”

He tugs the back of your neck. You collapse with the strength of his muscles and land nose to nose with him. 

“You’re so good— fuck, so tight for me. For me, yeah?”

You give a dumb nod, voice mute with the deep rhythm battering your walls.

“Say it. Say you’re mine.”

You can only nod again. Hair sticks to your sweaty face, a few rogue tears joining the mess Mingyu’s left on it.

“Say it, wanna hear you say it. Please.” He’s lost somewhere. Some desperate place that needs your validation.

You chant exactly what he wants to hear. Yours, yours, yours. A second duller bolt flashes through you, tensing every last muscle. Mingyu jolts from the tight squeeze gripping his cock. You give him the last sweep of your energy, bouncy wildly, fucking him quick and hard until your eyes cross.

“I’m—Mingyu, oh,” you whimper. You don’t stop even though your muscles object. Thrashing as you seize and come hot and wet. 

Mingyu’s got his hands to move you when your joints lock, a desperate race to his own end. He rubs you raw and red right to the core. You let him; still sobbing through the last pulses while he manhandles you over his cock roughly, slick with no resistance.

“Baby, fuck, feels so good,” he grovels, fucked out of his mind.

Your legs try to close, run away from the rush of even more stimulation, but Mingyu keeps you firmly pinned in place. He bites your neck, your shoulder, coming in thick breaths, hips stuttering while you sit there and take it. His fingers take advantage of the mess of your core but there's nothing left for you to give. Maybe later.

Mingyu gasps for air like he just did a deep dive. “Holy shit fuck.”

The touching doesn’t stop. You sweep your hands over his shoulders, cup his face, trace fingers of his stomach. Mingyu’s got one hand to keep you from pulling off his just yet, the other glued to the dip of your spine. Places forbidden to touch as just friends, now unlocked.

Condom in the trash, tissues for a quick clean up. You’re sticky in all the worst places but it’s a problem for later.

“So…when's our first date?” you ask him, cuddling back into the crook of his neck for the rest of the night.

“You. Me. Patty’s tomorrow morning.”

“Are you actually gonna pay for our food this time?”

Mingyu squeezes at your side, lips against your hairline. “You’re the one rolling in dough, Ms. Champion.”

“So I’m your sugar momma now?”

“That’s hot.”

The rebuttal dissolves on your tongue. You’re both deadweight. Sweaty and glowing in a pile of limbs, shivering beneath the ceiling fan. Mingyu is happy as your pillow, sweeping his hand over your back and hair as you crest sleep.

Turns out your room doesn’t get too hot with Mingyu sleeping in it if you’re both naked.

taglist: @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi

@writingbarnes @dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts

@wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos @seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially

@scoupsjin @isabellah29 @luvseungcheol @crisle19 @iamawkwardandshy

@lukeys-giggle @aaa-sia @tinkerbell460 @gyuhao365 @ourkivee 

@bokk-minnie @cookiearmy

@AliceFortescue @moonlightwonu @Ateez-atiny380 @LexyRaeWorld @melonacco

@lllucere @wwjagabeee @syluslittlecrows @yourbimbohope @whrryuu

@wonrangwoo @xchaenx @nuttywastelandmentality @champagnenoona @kyeomofhearts

[volgrawr]

Old short comic I did last year while I was trying to get used to drawing these characters.

Man really screams rawr XD at his enemies.

[cupidbedsy]

𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄 | 𝘲𝘩43 ♔

➪ summary: follow quinn and y/n through their journey of going from best friends to lovers

➪ warnings: reader has a shitty day, mentions of parents fighting, hate comments, that's all i think?

➪ word count: 5.1k

➪ file type: song based fic - reupload

➪ sunny's notes: i forgot how much this tugs at my heart. i'm sorry this took a little longer than i hoped it would but it's finally out again. i hope you guys enjoy it again - blog maintenance is happening tomorrow if i can get my computer to work :)

© cupidbedsy (sunflower-lilac42) ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

qh43 masterlist || nhl masterlist || taglist || navigation

i'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife 

˚₊· senior year of high school (2016-2017)

She was having a tough time, school, finals, graduation, work, everything and anything that she did seemed like it was ganging up on her. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason for her stress, but there were many things she could blame it on. On top of it, her parents had been fighting nonstop for the past month. It wasn’t like they hadn’t before but this time it was worse because she felt like she was the cause of it.

Quinn had invited her over for some dinner, hoping to at least relieve some of the stress from his best friend’s shoulders. When she arrived he could see the stress on her face, she looked as if she didn’t want to come in the first place. 

He stepped aside and let the girl in, “Hey, y/n/n.”

“Hey Quinner,” She gave him a tired smile. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, just tired.” She ran a hand through her hair before following Quinn to his room, saying hi to Ellen on the way. Ellen looked at the girl strangely, “Hi, y/n.”

“Hi, Mrs. Hughes.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Ellen, hon.” She pressed a kiss to her head, “Are you okay? You look-”

Bad? Drained? Stressed? Annoyed? Tired? All of the above? Is what she wanted to say, but didn’t, “I’m just a little tired right now.” Ellen nodded but looked unconvinced, shooting her oldest a look who shook his head.

He lightly took the girl’s arm and took her to his room, offering her to sit on his bed which she took gratefully. She looked around his room and at the posters on his wall before looking over at where he now sat at his desk. He was already looking at her with a small smile on his face, concern still lingering in his eyes.

The two stared at each other for a moment before a knock was heard on the door, “Hi.”

The two looked over to see his brothers standing there, “Hi Jack, Luke.”

Quinn didn’t reciprocate his best friend’s kindness, “What do you two want?”

“We just wanted to give y/n this.” Luke pulled out one of his bear stuffed animals from behind his back, “You looked sad.” Jack stood there, slightly out of place, mostly because this was Luke’s idea instead of his, but he liked y/n enough to go with him.

“Awe, thanks, you guys.” Tears made their way to the corners of her eyes but she refused to let them fall in front of the two. 

Noticing her expression, Jack waved goodbye and dragged the eighth grader behind him. Y/n held the bear in her lap, arms wrapping around it tightly as she tried not to think of the events that happened before she got here. 

“Y/n/n? Are you sure you're okay, because if not-” Quinn’s overwhelming concern for her made the tears bubble over in her eyes and a sob ripped from her throat, “I can’t do it anymore, Quinny.” 

Quinn was quick to get up from his desk chair and stumble over to his bed to wrap the girl in a hug. He knew he didn’t have to do anything but hold her tight as she dug her head into his chest, the stuffed animal still clutched tightly to her chest. 

It took her about ten minutes to calm down, tear after tear, and for her it felt like it would never stop. Quinn did what he always did and waited for her to stop so he, or she, could talk about it. He knew if he tried to talk to her while she was crying, she wouldn’t listen, nothing got through to her when she was crying this hard. 

When she pulled away to wipe away her tear-stained face, Quinn opened his mouth to talk, “You know you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but you can, I’ll always listen.” He reached his hand out to wipe away one tear that she missed, one blackened by her mascara, leaving a trail of the makeup it held behind it. 

She held a weak smile on her face at the warmth his hand brought to her cheek and looked at him, “Just finals and other shit like that, the usual. Plus, my parents were fighting again, I think that was my final straw.”

Quinn nodded his head, recognizing the tone in her voice that said she didn’t want to talk. Her face looked more tired after crying and he sighed, scooting back to rest his back against the headboard. Y/n looked at him confusedly but smiled when he opened his arms. She was quick to lay against his front, laying her head on his chest once more, still holding the bear in her grasp. 

Ellen walked by twenty minutes later to tell them that dinner was ready, but when she peaked into her son’s room and saw both of them with their eyes closed she smiled, closed the door, and walked away telling the rest of the family to be quiet as they slept. 

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

and if it was an open-shut case i never would've known from that look on your face lost in your current like a priceless wine

˚₊· end of senior year/graduation (2017)

Both of them knew the feelings that they harbored for each other but were both unsure of how the other felt. Neither one of them wanted to mess up their current friendship, they had been best friends since freshman year. 

It had never been that simple between them, their friends saying how they looked like a couple everywhere they went. She would always wear his jerseys to his games or one of his shirts and he would always show up to her events with unwavering support. 

Whenever someone saw Quinn, y/n wasn’t too far behind and vice versa, whenever y/n was asked what she was doing that night, she would say hanging out with Quinn and vice versa. They would always be caught holding hands or leaning up against one another or literally any other way that looked like they were dating. 

They never said anything though, and they wouldn’t until graduation. Quinn and y/n stood side by side taking a picture with each other as they waited for their parents to find them. Y/n knew Quinn was good at hockey, good enough to get drafted, good enough to make the NHL, it was no secret. But because of Quinn’s birthday that wouldn’t happen for at least another year.

She was worried, she didn’t want to lose him. She didn’t want him to become this big-shot hockey player and forget about her, she didn’t want him to become a self-absorbed player with an ego bigger than himself. Though deep down she knew he would never let his ego get that big, but the forgetting part? As much as she told herself he wouldn’t and knew that he wouldn’t she couldn’t get past the ‘what if?’

Quinn waved a hand in front of her face, snapping a couple of times to gain her attention, “Y/n. Y/n. Y/n.” He dragged out the last syllable of her name. 

She looked at him, her eyes getting rid of the glassed-over look by blinking, “What?”

“I’ve been talking for the past couple of minutes and you, my dear sweet y/n, have not responded. You have just been-” Quinn looked over to where her focus had landed when she spaced out, “staring at that tree.”

“Oh sorry.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“What’s going to happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’re going to go to school for one year and then you’re going to get drafted. You’re going to go away somewhere and play professional hockey for a living and you’re going to forget about me.”

“Who said I was going to forget about you?”

“No one, just me and my thoughts.”

“Well, you and your thoughts are wrong, because I could never forget about you.” He tilted her head down to kiss the top of her head.

“That’s what you say now.”

“I’ll you fly out to wherever I’m playing, Nashville, Toronto, Vancouver, anywhere, and I’ll let you punch me if I forget about you because you are the best fucking thing that has ever happened to me. Since freshman orientation, I knew you were the one.”

“Are you just saying that because I was the only one who would talk about hockey with you?”

Quinn, being bold, slid his hands underneath y/n’s graduation gown, grabbing onto her waist through the fabric of her dress and pulling her close to him. She stumbled at the unexpected action, causing the boy to apologize before placing his index finger underneath her chin and lifting it so her eyes would meet his, “Look at me.”

She sighed when the two made contact. Quinn noticed the fear in her eyes, she truly didn’t want to lose him and he didn’t either, “I know you’re worried and so am I, but I promise you this-”

She didn’t want to hear what he had to say, the whole bullshit of the promises not to forget about her, she’s read it plenty of times in books, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Quinn.” She averted her eyes away again, directing them to the other families around them.

“Hey.” Quinn once again moved her head so her eyes had no choice but to look into his own, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Quinn but that doesn’t really change-”

“Just shut up for one minute, will you? I love you, y/n. And I don’t mean the typical I love you that you give to the girls. I love you and I was too afraid to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship and I didn’t know how you felt but I thought if there was a time to tell you this, it would be now.”

Y/n looked at him in shock, the words she had been waiting for since she walked into the auditorium for orientation. This wasn’t real life, was it?

Quinn stared at her blank face as she opened and closed her mount a couple of times, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

The boy went to walk away but she placed a hand on his arm, “No! No, I’m sorry I just didn’t know what to say. I love you too, Quinn.”

“You do?”

She nodded and Quinn wasted no time placing his lips onto hers.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

life was a willow and it bent right to your wind head on the pillow, i could feel you sneaking in

˚₊· fall of 2021

She loved Quinn, she truly did, but not that much that she was willing to stay up into the early hours of the morning/late hours of the night for him after a game. She texted him saying that she was going to bed and that she was proud of him for his game. 

It was the first time since they moved in together that Quinn had a night home game. Getting used to the rhythm that was going to be for the rest of Quinn’s hockey career was starting slow. She wasn’t used to him coming home at late hours of the night or leaving in the early hours of the morning before the sun was up to go to practice. 

She didn’t mind it that much though, just knowing that he was coming home to her was good enough for the both of them. She laid in bed, hoping that she would be able to stay awake until he got home but she fell asleep within moments of her placing her ends down on the pillow.

When Quinn got the text, he had just finished putting on his suit jacket and he wanted nothing more than to go home to his girl and lay next to her in their newly shared bed. But, his teammates were not going to let that happen. 

They dragged him to a bar to have one or two drinks before heading home. He thinks he’s never detested his teammates this much before this moment. When he finished his first drink, he said goodbye, practically running out of the doors of the bar. 

He unlocked the car and practically sped home and crept into the apartment, just in case y/n was already sleeping. He set his things down and walked into the bedroom and smiled when he saw her curled up in the sheets, a shirt of his adorning her body much like in college when he’d go to away games. 

He took a quick shower, not wanting to prolong the duration of not having her in his arms. He put a pair of sweatpants on before carefully lifting the covers and sliding into bed. Y/n, who had been awake since he walked in the apartment doors, turned over, “Hey Quinner.”

Quinn’s eyes snapped to his girlfriend’s, “Hi sweetheart. I’m sorry, did I wake you?” 

“No, I was just a little cold and then I heard the front door click open.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were awake?”

“Because then I would’ve had to wait even longer for you to come to bed.”

Quinn smiled, kissing her, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

life was a willow and it bent right to your wind they count me out time and time again

˚₊· 2022

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 『 instagram 』

_quinnhughes

liked by yourusername, jackhughes, lhughes_06, and 58,527 others

_quinnhughes happy fifth anniversary to this gorgeous girl. and while we both know that five should really be a nine, i'm glad i've been able to call you mine for the five of them. i love you, y/n <3

tagged: yourusername

view 309 comments

yourusername: quinn... i love you so much 💙

⤷ _quinnhughes: i love you too pretty girl 💚

⤷ user: the canucks colors 🥹

jackhughes: proud of you for putting up with him for so many years @/yourusername

⤷ yourusername: my pleasure

lhughes_06: congrats you two!

*liked by _quinnhughes & yourusername*

user: five years? hah, that's humorus

user: can't believe she's kept him for that long, thought quinn would've dumped her when he made the nhl

user: she's not even that pretty, i don't see the appeal

user: probably just using him

user: don't see this lasting any longer

_eliaspetterson: congrats guys! happy five years

*liked by yourusername & _quinnhughes*

bboeser: my besties!

⤷ _quinnhughes: please do not ever use that word again

⤷ yourusername: i think it's sweet, quintin

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

life was a willow and it bent right to your wind but i come back stronger than a 90's trend 

˚₊· 2022

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 『 instagram 』

nhlwags

liked by yourusername, _quinnhughes, canucks, and 8,432 others

nhlwags as we ring in the holiday season, y/n is back with her famous gift bags! we heard cookies were the hit thing this year.

also wishing these two a (very) belated fifth anniversary, hope quinn and y/n have many more years to come (maybe a ring soon 👀)

tagged: yourusername, _quinnhughes, canucks

view 98 comments

yourusername: my favorite time of year! always glad when i get to make the team things. (and yes, i'm hoping for a ring too 😔)

⤷ user: if you don't get a ring, it's rigged. wya @/_quinnhughes??

⤷ yourusername: fr

_eliaspetterson: cookies were amazing as always, treating us well over here

bboeser: our little baker!

jackhughes: this is preposterous! we never got any cookies :(

⤷ yourusername: you know what that word means?

⤷ jackhughes: when did you start becoming a bully to me

⤷ yourusername: when i started hanging out with you too much

user: gagged them fr

user: well... she shut them up

user: me looking for all the hate comments to defend my girl

user: i really wanna know what the famous y/n cookies taste like

⤷ j.tmiller9 heaven

⤷ colemcward: the greatest thing on this planet

⤷ conor.garland8: amazing

⤷ jackhughes: perfect

⤷ lhughes_06: everything you would want them to taste like

⤷ _quinnhughes: i'm starting to get the sense you guys only come to my house to taste her food

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark show me the places where the others gave you scars

˚₊· summer of ‘19

“Meet me at the dock after everyone goes to bed” was the text y/n got at ten o’clock. She smiled to herself when she read it and patiently waited for everyone to go to bed before sneaking out of the house and running down to the dock. Quinn sat with his feet dangling over the wood into the water waiting for his girlfriend. When he heard footsteps behind him, he turned around and grinned when he saw her running towards him. 

They hadn’t had a moment alone together in almost three months. When Quinn had to fly to Vancouver to make his debut, she couldn’t come with him, having to finish her classes. Then she was staying with her parents for the majority of May and into June and she wasn’t allowed to go anywhere. Quinn had been finishing up some things with the team and he ended up spending some much-needed time with his family. 

Ever since y/n had gotten to the lake house, she had been helping Ellen with things and spending time with Luke and Jack because they wanted her to. They played Mario Kart and other video games, and the two made her go out on the boat with them and made her watch as they did tricks and flipped into the water. 

Quinn patted the space next to him but instead, y/n took her spot right on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. His eyes widened at the sudden contact but happily wrapped his arms around her waist, snuggling into one another. 

Y/n looked at him, “So, I guess I’m dating a big-shot NHL player now, huh?”

Quinn merely shrugged, “I guess you are, aren’t you?”

“Yes, unfortunately, because he’s living in a totally different country than me and in the opposite direction.”

“Aw, that sucks. I’m sorry to hear that. He must feel terrible.”

“Oh I don’t know, he gets to be a free man.”

“I wouldn’t say free, more sad.”

That comment made her perk up, “What’s wrong?”

“I just, miss you.” His voice ever so slightly cracked and she could see the tears starting to form in his eyes, “Honey. Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

At the nickname, Quinn immediately started crying,  he had missed her so much, much more than he ever imagined he would. He never really thought about the fact that his best friend, his girlfriend, his everything would be in Michigan while he was in Vancouver. 

“No, it’s not okay. I get to live out my dream but my dream isn’t complete without you there. We’re going to be 2,368.82 miles apart for at least the next two years. I don’t think I can do it.”

Y/n hated it when he cried, it broke her heart into a million pieces when she saw the tears trickling down his face. Much like he always did with her, she reached up and cupped his face, wiping his tears off his face, “Listen to me. We are Quinn and y/n, y/n and Quinn, when has anything ever stopped us from being apart? Where's Quinn from when we graduated, huh? The Quinn who promised me that he would never forget me and that everything was going to be okay? Just because we’re however many miles you said apart doesn’t mean anything. So now it’s my turn to promise you something. I promise you that we are going to find a way to make this work.”

Quinn nodded his head, still a little unconvinced about her words. In a way to distract him from the thoughts that he never thought he would be able to escape, she looked at the scars on his body and started asking him questions about them. 

Some were from his childhood when he, Jack, and Luke would be playing a game or messing around and one of them would throw something at him or he was pushed over. Some were from when he played hockey when he was younger, getting shoved into the boards or shoving someone else into the boards. Some were from the games he played in the spring, his first games in the NHL. Those were y/n’s favorites and least favorites. Favorites because it was from his dream, and the stories behind them would last forever, least favorites because they reminded her of how much he could get hurt doing this. But that wasn’t something she wanted to worry about right now. 

All she wanted to do was think about this moment, the moment they were living in as the stars illuminated where they sat on the dock, in each other’s arms, talking about random stories from each other’s childhood. 

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

now this is an open-shut case guess i should've known from the look on your face every bait and switch was a work of art

˚₊· fall/winter of 2023

“You guys would never guess what I found when I was cleaning the other day.” Y/n came walking in from the room she had been in. 

Jack and Luke sat at the table with Quinn and Ellen and Jim sat near their sons, one of the days leading up to the Hughes v Hughes game. They all smiled as the girl came bounding in, Quinn had just placed down his tiles when she spoke and he raised his eyebrows, “What’d you find, hon?”

Y/n placed a fluffy object down on the wood surface, “Luke’s bear that he and Jack gave me when we were in high school.”

“Paulie?” 

“You still remember its name?” Jack laughed loudly and Ellen got up to hit the middle child on the back of his head, “Don’t make fun of you brother.”

“Oh, come on. You have to admit, it's a little funny.”

Luke blushed heavily and Quinn quirked an eyebrow, “Why do you still have that is my question.” He took the bear into his grasp and started fiddling with its arms, “Because.”

She shrugged and all five of the Hughes’ looked intrigued, “Y/n, you have to tell us.” Jack insisted as he leaned forward, messing up the game that had previously been going on. Quinn and Luke groaned at their brother’s actions. 

“Because,” She ripped the bear from her boyfriend’s grasp and held it to her chest, “Because it reminds me of that day when I was sad and you guys cheered me up. It was the first day I felt a part of the family.”

“I remember that day.” Luke spoke up, looking between everyone in the room, “Jack and I were sitting on the couch when Quinn opened the door for you and you came in and you looked all…”

“Dead?”

“I was gonna say sad but I guess that works too. Anyway, when you two went up I told Jack my plan and he hesitated about it but I knew he had a soft spot for you so he caved in easily. I ran to my room to get the bear and give it to you.”

“It was a stupid, plan.” Jack laughed again but he knew how much it meant to y/n. 

The girl shrugged and hugged Luke from behind, resting her arms on his shoulders as they wrapped around him, clasping her hands together, “It’s okay, Luke. I loved it.”

Ellen smiled, “And following, you’ve always been a part of the family. Ever since Quinn came back from freshman orientation just bragging about the girl he met.”

“Mom.” Quinn threw his head back in annoyance and y/n giggled, “You talked to your mom about me? From freshman orientation? Ew, I was just a dork back then.”

“If I remember correctly, Quinn couldn’t stop talking about the girl that wore a Patrick Sharp Blackhawks jersey one or two sizes too big, with her hair in braids who talked about hockey with him for the duration of orientation.” Jim patted his son on his shoulder as Quinn continued to clench his eyes in embarrassment. 

“Do we really have to relive this moment?”

“Maybe not now but Ellen and I are definitely going to talk about this when you aren’t around.”

“Hey look at that, she called me Ellen! It only took her ten years.” The woman teased as she wrapped her in a hug. 

“Hey! I thought I was being respectful, and it’s a force of habit.” Y/n blushed as she smiled and gasped when all of a sudden an armed wrap around her and Quinn pulled her into his lap.

“Quinn!” Quinn hid his face in the crook of her neck and breathed deeply, “I’m never going to live this down. 

“Probably not.” Looking at her watch, y/n realized the time, placing a kiss on Quinn’s forehead. 

“I should be going to bed, I got work in the morning. Night everyone!”

The four let out their goodnights and Quinn whispered an ‘I love you’ and y/n repeated the words to him before heading into their shared bedroom. The five Hughes’ sat in the kitchen for a couple of minutes in silence until Jack spoke, “So, when are you going to ask her?”

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

the more that you say the less i know

˚₊· freshman year of college (2017-2018)

Sitting at one of the tables in the student center, y/n sat across from Quinn as he talked about whatever was going on in the hockey world. She understood hockey, enough to be able to watch the game when it was happening and she knew some of the stats, but anything past that, not a clue in the world. 

She loved it when Quinn talked about hockey though. His eyes lit up and held this glint in them, he talked really fast, just spewing out nonsense. It was the highlight of her day when it happened, it was at least once a day if not more. He would always show up outside her dorm room or offer to take her to dinner. 

Every time he did, it always took Quinn a while to notice that his girlfriend wasn’t responding and this was the same. Quinn was rambling about Ohio State’s hockey team and the upcoming game against them and she just sat there, amused by his voice and his facial expressions. 

Quinn was halfway through his ramble when he finally made eye contact with her, “You’re not paying any attention to this are you?”

“I’m sorry, babe, but it’s really hard to when you look like that when you talk.”

“Look like what? An idiot for not knowing my girlfriend is not listening to any word I say?”

“No, hot.” Quinn’s cheeks reddened as he looked at her, “You never fail to make me blush do you”

“Absolutely not, and anyway, you know I never understand hockey. I try but it’s all in one ear and out the other.”

“I think one time we need to set up something so you can learn everything you need to know. Get you a book or make you a slide show or something.”

“Sure, Quinny. Whatever you say.”

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

wherever you stray i follow

˚₊· september of 2021

“You can just put that box over there.”

Jack placed down the box where y/n said, “How much stuff do you have?”

“Wow, Jack. Can’t believe you’d be so mean to me. This is why Luke is my favorite.” Y/n placed her arm around Luke as he walked into the apartment, “What?”

“Nothing, you poor innocent little man.” Y/n walked away to start unpacking the box Jack had placed down not too long ago.

“Do you guys need any help?” Luke asked politely, following after his brother’s girlfriend. 

“Nah, I’m okay. Thanks you guys, just chill out for a little bit before we go out for dinner.” The two nodded, sitting on Quinn’s, and now y/n’s, couch.

Just at that moment, Ellen walked in from the hallway and Quinn followed her, “It would be nice of you two to actually help y/n instead of just sitting there.”

Jack threw his arms up, “We offered to help her and she said no!”

“Actually, I offered but yes, she said it was okay.”

Y/n nodded her head, “I did.”

『••✎••』

Later that night, y/n and Quinn were standing in the living room, looking out the window. Quinn was standing behind the girl with his arms wrapped around her waist, “I can’t believe this is real.”

“I know, the lights are beautiful.”

“Not that.”

“Then what?” She looked up at him to see a lovesick expression on his face. 

“You here, in Vancouver.”

“Hey, you didn’t want me to be here in the first place.”

“Yeah well, I wanted you to do what was best for you. I didn’t want you to move all the way out here just because I was here.”

“How dumb are you?”

“Very, apparently.” 

She smiled again and rocked the two of them side to side, “Whatcha wanna do?”

Quinn just winked at her eliciting a giggle from her.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

i'm begging for you to take my hand wreck my plans that's my man

˚₊· july/august of 2021 + november 7, 2021

“Quinn please!”

“Y/n, I’m not letting you do this. You had it all planned out since the moment we both got our acceptance letters.”

“I know that Quinn, but things change, plans change. I want to be with you, forever. I want to be wherever you are, please just let me come to Vancouver with you.”

The two stared at each other, eyes locked. They had been arguing for the past hour, ever since y/n brought it up. She had just graduated college and with Quinn having been in the NHL for the past two years she got a taste of what it would be like to do long distance, and it was horrible for both of them. 

“You know what it's like. These past two years have been horrible, Quinn, and not just for me and you know it.” Her voice cracked, “I would rather wreck everything I have planned for my future just to move to Vancouver for you. I can find a job there.”

“Are you sure, like 100% sure about this?” Y/n placed her hands on his cheeks, “Of course, I’m sure.”

Quinn nodded his head, “When do you want to move in?”

『••✎••』

It was November when y/n was able to go to Quinn’s first home game. It was a Sunday and they were playing the Stars. She was extremely excited as she threw on her jersey and drove to Rogers Arena. She met up with some of the wags that were going to the game as well and they sat in the suite waiting for their husbands to start playing. 

When they all came out, they cheered in unison watching them skate. They conversed slightly, giving y/n teasing comments and glances every time the announcers would mention Quinn or he had done something even remotely good for the team. It was worse when he got sent to the penalty box for cross-checking in the first period.

Most of them gave her cheeky grins when they showed him in the box, some giving her nudges. She blushed deeply as they made their comments. She didn’t know what was up with him tonight, he got three primary assists and a penalty. 

After the game, the wags excitedly took the girl down to the tunnel to wait for Quinn, “Hey, there’s your man.”

Y/n looked up and smiled, “That is my man.” 

Quinn smiled brightly, picking the girl up and spinning her around, “I can’t believe you’re here! You’re actually here!”

“Alrighty, Quinny, calm down. You’re causing a scene.”

“Sorry, babe. I’m just really excited that you’re here.” He smiled down at her, his hands on her lower biceps, just above her elbow, “I can tell.”

“What do you say, you guys want to go out for dinner?”

“Quinn, I got work in the morning. I need some sleep. Maybe another time though?” The girls nodded their heads at y/n and let the young couple wander off out of the arena and to their car.

“I’m really glad you’re here. I don’t know if I would’ve survived another minute without knowing you weren’t waiting at home for me.”

“Well, you never have to survive another minute without me again. Unless you’re on a road trip then, yes, but you know what I mean.”

Quinn and y/n were so in love it was actually kind of annoying to some people, but they had to admit that they were absolutely adorable.

© cupidbedsy (sunflower-lilac42) ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

[yammpi3]

𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏 𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙆𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙤 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙢𝙞 [𝙃𝙖𝙬𝙠𝙨]

synopsis. You were a former hero commission hero but when you made a simple mistake in a mission the commission sent you on they deemed you unfit and fired you, hence made you out to be a villain to the public. A few years later you meet your old partner Hawks out on his nightly patrol then you guys make up….made out .. :3

— content warnings. sorta plot with smut, eating out, p to v, kissing, sex sex sex, not really coordinated well? i think? dom/sub hawks

— W.C 2.3k

— authors note. This has been rotting in my drafts for like a year now but i thought i should post something…so..heres this!! Im rlly sorry if it’s formatted kinda weirdly, imo the smut is also written sorta weird but i think thats just me..overthinking it ANYWAYS enjoy reading <33 also Thank you FOR 100 FOLLOWERS?? i didn’t expect my blog would reach that much so TYTY.

Hawks sighed heavily, leaning back in his office desk chair, elbows propping on the armrests. He rubbed his tired eyes, tilting his head back, attempting to avoid eye contact with the stack of paperwork that lay out before him.

Every muscle in his body ached with exhaustion. It felt like he had been sitting in this same spot for days, poring over reports and documents in an endless cycle of busy work. As the number-two hero, the public demanded nothing but his very best. They expected him to always be alert and swift in responding to any crisis, dealing with volatile situations and dangerous villains with calm precision. 

But they didn't see this part. They didn't witness the countless late nights spent filling out forms, compiling statistics, and attending meetings after meetings. No cameras captured the headaches induced by mind-numbing bureaucracy or the frustration of dealing with petty politics. This was the hidden cost of his elevated rank—an incessant paper-pushing grindstone that wore him down more than any actual fight ever could. 

 

Slowly dragging his hands down his face, Hawks sighed again as the aches and knots of tension complained loudly in his neck and shoulders. For a brief moment, he considered using his feathers to shred just a few stray documents, to do less work. 

He stretched his arms over his head and rolled his tense muscles, his wings fluttering restlessly behind him. All he wanted at that moment was to forget. To spread his wings and fly through open skies, feeling the wind ruffle through his feathers as he left his troubles far below.

 

Tilting his chair back as far as it would go, he gave a long-suffering look at the piles of work that towered precariously around him, silently pleading with it all to spontaneously catch fire or simply vanish into thin air. With a resigned sigh, Hawks dropped all four chair legs back to the floor and reluctantly pulled the topmost file towards him once more, bracing himself for another grind of the ever-turning wheel.

Hawks rubbed his tired eyes once more, feeling his motivation drain away with each mundane paragraph he read. At this rate, he'd be here all night and well into the morning. With a groan, he tossed the file back onto the pile, temporarily defeated. Maybe a quick break was what he needed to recharge his focus. 

 

Pushing away from his desk, Hawks stood and stretched out his cramped body to its full height, his wings unfolding to their full span. A midnight flight around the city was just what he needed. The cool night air and darkened streets would do wonders for clearing his cluttered mind. 

Stepping out onto his office balcony, Hawks took a few steps back, then launched himself into the sky with his wings. He flew high, circling up towards the crowning heights of the skyscrapers that shone below. Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breath of the fresher air, feeling tensions beginning to melt away already. 

 

As he glided back down towards street level, Hawks scanned the sidewalks lazily while lost in thought. He was mulling over the options when movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. 

Your shadow slipped between alleyways, scanning for any civilians in the area. Suddenly flashes of red nearing a rooftop drew your eye—a familiar winged silhouette.

Going on a nearby rooftop, you spotted Hawks looking down, trying to find who or what he saw. 

You and Hawks used to know each other pretty well in your teen years when you dreamed of being a great hero. So when you were selected by  the Commission to become one, you were ecstatic. But from day one, Keigo Takami made things... complicated.

You two went way back to your training days, though you mostly kept your head down back then. Once in the pro scene though, Takami always found ways to rile you up during sessions, whether with sly taunts or risky stunts that pushed protocol to the limit. 

Part of you wanted to throttle that arrogant asshole, but another part couldn't deny the thrill he made you feel. 

Late nights spent training turned into more..private scenarios. For a time, it was nice to find solace in each other. But then came the ruling—you'd been deemed "not hero material" after one mistake, ruining your future. That's when Takami tried to connect with you again, but the hero commission wouldn't even allow him to be close to you to not damage the reputation he already made with the public. 

"You're up rather late for a hero," you whispered directly into his ear, barely suppressing a chuckle at his startled flinch. Golden eyes met yours warily, yet he made no move to escape our intimate embrace. 

"I'm off duty," was his measured reply. "And you?" Smoke clung thick to the memories in his eyes. 

Your fingers, carefully gloved, traced the proud arch of his wings, feeling tension bleed away slowly. "Care for some company, Keigo?"

He held your gaze steadily, considering. At last he nodded, extending a hand. “Not that I can shake you off anyway,” he replied, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

You sat together on the secluded rooftop, settling close against one another. As you caught up, you both couldn't help but feel deprived of each other's touch; it had been far too long since you'd seen one another face to face. Sure, he'd heard about you through others in the commission, but being here together was different somehow. 

When your voices at last fell silent, a gentle touch turned your chin to meet Hawks' searching eyes. "Y/N…" he murmured, leaning in so your faces were mere inches apart. One of his wings stretched out to block any view from the street below, enveloping you both in its feathery embrace. 

Hawks closed the remaining distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft yet insistent kiss.

One hand came up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, as the other wrapped around your waist to draw you flush against his body. You felt even better than he remembered. 

 

When your lips parted under him, Hawks held back a groan as he rested his forehead against yours as you both panted for air. Wisps of steam rose between the two of you in the chill night. 

If he tasted you fully, it would undo his last shred of willpower.

“You're going to be the end of me.." Hawks murmured thickly. Already, he ached to have more, but taking you here against the railing would be too brazen, even for his recklessness. 

"Then take me somewhere more...private then," you shot back in a sinful whisper. 

With a sly smile, Hawks swept you into his arms in a bridal carry, wings already prepared for launch. "Hold on tight.”

 

Hawks kicked off from the roof of the building and took flight, relishing your tight grip around his shoulders. The thrill of having you in his arms sent adrenaline surging through his veins. 

He landed lightly on the balcony of his high-rise apartment, still holding you securely against his chest. Your masked face was turned up to meet his gaze.

"I.. I really missed you," Hawks murmured, pressing you back against the wall with his body. He caged you in with outspread wings, feathers gently ghosting your skin. 

 

"Me too.." you replied. Your hands came up to roam his body just as eagerly.

Hawks captured your lips in a searing kiss, conveying all his pent-up needs and desires without restraint. This was wrong on so many levels, and yet he'd never felt more alive. 

 

Kicking open the balcony doors, he swept you inside and laid you down on his plush sofa. His hands worked busily to remove your mask, wanting nothing between you and him; clothing fell piece by piece until nothing was left. 

 

"Say you want this," Hawks pleaded roughly, desperate for your answer. 

Your intoxicating laughter rang out as you pulled him against your body. "I want all of you, Keigo." 

Hawks' hands roamed your body eagerly, relearning every curve as his lips traveled along your jawline. You sighed contentedly, arching into his touch while undoing the fastenings of his hero costume with practiced expertise. 

 

Slowly, methodically, he kissed his way down the delicate column of your throat. Hawks lingered there to suckle your rapid pulse, eliciting breathy moans. His name falling from your lips in such a manner sent fresh spikes of arousal through him.

 

As you lay bare under him, Hawks paused to simply take in the sublime vision of your naked form, illuminated by the moonlight. "You're so..beautiful," he whispered in awe, tracing idle patterns upon your sensitized flesh.

 

Your hands delved into the downy feathers at his wings' bases, eliciting a guttural groan. The way you caressed his most sensitive areas, teasing but not quite enough, tested Hawks' faltering control. He nipped lightly at the swell of your breast in retaliation.

Tracing a tortuous path down your torso with wet kisses and love bites, Hawks' fingers dipped between your thighs. He chuckled at discovering your slick arousal, already swollen and desperate for friction. Slowly, he circled your clit, gathering your arousal onto his fingers.

 

"Please..." you begged wantonly, bucking your hips to chase more contact. But Hawks would loathe to grant your unspoken request so easily. He continued his maddening ministrations, coaxing you higher and higher with expert precision. Only when your keening cries bordered on anguish did he finally decide to sink two fingers deep inside.

 

The powerful rhythm he set drove you swiftly towards the peak. Hawks swallowed your hoarse screams of completion, savoring your intimate essence on his tongue.

"I've missed this..," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

 

Then his tongue delved into your slick arousal with deft, practiced strokes. Your responsive sighs and the way you grabbed Takami's hair only spurred him onward in his devotions. 

 

He alternated between broad, flat licks and focused flicks directly over your clit. When Keigo very lightly grazed his teeth along your folds, you keened and bucked again into his ministrations wildly. He hummed his approval, sending vibrations through your core.

 

It did not take long for you to climb once more towards the precipice, unraveling beautifully beneath his skilled mouth. Hawks drank deeply from your release, prolonging each aftershock with slow caresses of his tongue. Only when your quivering stopped did he withdraw, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he cleaned his glistening chin. 

 

As he swirled his tongue around his lips, savoring the last hints of you, you gazed up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Your chest still heaved in languid aftershocks of pleasure, your limbs boneless and slack upon the plush cushions.

"Come here," you beckoned hoarsely, crooking a finger. Your body cried out to be filled after such thorough worship, muscles reflexively clenching around nothing inside. 

 

Hawks obeyed without hesitation, crawling up to drape himself over your welcoming form once more. You gripped his shoulders firmly, flipping your positions with a playful show of wiry strength, and smiled down at him wickedly. 

 

Grasping his aching length and rubbing the tip of his cock had him seeing stars. Hawks groaned unabashedly.

Slowly, you let him inside, savoring each velvet glide. Hawks bucked helplessly, claws scrabbling for purchase against the cushions as your sensual walls milked his length.

 

The pleasure you drew from Hawks was exquisite torture. Each roll of your hips sent fresh shockwaves through his twitching member, shattering his composure. He was reduced to begging, his nails scratched weakly at your thighs as you rode him to the brink. 

 

"Please...I need to come," Hawks gasped, moving his hips upward in frantic little thrusts. His cock throbbed painfully with the desperate need for release. 

You smiled down at him cruelly. "Beg for it." Your lips formed the words deliciously slowly, knowing their effect.

Hawks keened, wings fluttering uselessly. "Please let me cum p-please I wanna cum, I need..to please..” 

 

Suddenly, you bore down on him, grinding your pelvis against his in brutal circles. The new angle sent Hawks reaching his high with a raw cry. 

 

You quickly let him pull out as his cock pulsed and thick ropes of seed spilled forth, splattering his taut stomach in pearly ribbons. Hawks shuddered through wave after wave; your continued help milking every last drop from him. 

Breathless and spent, he could only lay pliantly as you leaned down to collect his essence on your fingers. Your wicked tongue flicked out to taste, making Hawks twitch anew in oversensitivity.

 

You smiled softly, your expression gentling as you gazed upon Hawks' flushed, panting form. His chest still heaved mightily in the aftermath of his climax.

 

Reverently, you traced light patterns on his ribs and pecs with delicate fingers, soothing away any last tremors. Hawks hummed appreciatively at your tender touch, grasping one of your hands to press a lingering kiss to the palm. 

 

"Come here, Birdie," you murmured, beckoning him into your open embrace. Hawks complied readily, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a contented sigh. Your legs tangled together comfortably as his wings folded around you both like a feathery blanket.

No threats of capture or duty rules could penetrate the sanctity of that moment. There, held securely within your arms, Hawks felt at once protected yet free—freed from the shackles of self-doubt and expectation. He belonged, body and soul, to one who accepted him fully without judgment or demand.

 

Drowsiness began to take hold as your rhythmic caresses through soft-down lulled Hawks towards slumber. "Stay?" he mumbled into your skin, his voice blurred by oncoming sleep yet filled with gentle hope. 

You kissed his forehead, followed by a whisper, "I’ll stay, promise." was the sweetest assurance Hawks could wish for.

© yammpi3 2024. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Three Generations - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster / Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Rooster is a Dad; Female Reader with No Name or Physical Description, No Y/N, Third Person POV; OC Bradshaw Kid without Physical Description (minus a reference to his smile being similar to Rooster's)

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: Rooster is married. Maverick found out when the paperwork got filed with the Navy, but he doesn’t have a chance to ask Rooster about it until after the mission

Master List

Sequel: A Day with Duckie

Maverick remembered the text that he received from Ice about four years prior to the mission.

The kid’s married.

Three little words that felt like bullets straight to Maverick’s heart. Bradley was married. Married. Maverick shouldn’t have been surprised, really. Bradley was more than old enough for marriage. Especially for a naval officer. But it still hurt, it still stung that he wasn’t there to see it.

Ice gave him Rooster’s wife’s name but he couldn’t find many photos of the two of them together. Rooster’s wife’s profiles were all set to private, but Maverick did find some photos posted by one of the bridesmaids. He printed them out and hung them up in his hangar, next to his old photos of Rooster. Even if he cried like a baby while he did it.

It wasn’t until after the mission, when they were sitting alone in their hospital room together, that Maverick had a chance to ask Rooster about his wife.

“You got married?” Maverick asked Rooster quietly.

Maverick gestured to his own left ring finger, which made Rooster fiddle with his gold band. Staring down at his wedding ring for a moment, Rooster tried to figure out how to respond properly to Maverick’s question. Nodding slowly, Rooster turned back to Maverick.

“Yeah, I did,” Rooster answered quietly.

“Congratulations,” Maverick replied softly.

“Thank you,” Rooster returned, fiddling with his ring again.

“How did you meet?”

“She was in the Navy. She worked in intelligence, though. We met through mutual friends and I asked her out. We went on a date to a karaoke bar and never looked back,” Rooster explained, smiling at the memories. “I asked her to marry me about two years after that.”

“And you’re happy?”

“Extremely,” Rooster replied without missing a beat. “Her and Kai, they’re my whole life.”

“Kai?” Maverick asked curiously.

Rooster, seemingly realizing his slip, shrunk a bit into himself. He looked nervous. Incredibly nervous. Fiddling with his wedding band again, Rooster slowly turned back to Maverick.

“Kai is my son.”

“You’re a dad?” Maverick asked, unable to stop the emotion from dripping into his tone.

Not only had Maverick missed Rooster’s wedding, but he also missed the birth of Rooster’s child, and all of the little milestones along the way. And that ache in his chest quietly intensified, though Maverick tried to not let it show.

“Yeah, I am.”

Rooster reached for his phone, pulled up a photo, and passed his phone over to Maverick. He grabbed Rooster’s phone and stared down at the photo. And Maverick would have been lying if he said that he didn’t get a little choked up at the sight of it.

Rooster and a woman that Maverick knew was Rooster’s wife were standing together with a little baby boy sandwiched between them. A little boy that had his father’s smile—albeit one with a few missing teeth—and a matching Hawaiian shirt. Rooster’s wife smiled widely at the camera with her cheek smushed against the top of her son’s head.

And Rooster looked happier in that photo than Maverick had seen him since before Carole passed, even though Rooster wasn’t looking in the direction of the camera. No, Rooster was far too busy smiling at his little family.

“Are they coming to see you?” Maverick asked, handing the phone back to Rooster.

“Yeah, uh, their flight lands tomorrow morning. Phoenix said that she would pick them up from the airport and bring them here,” Rooster explained, placing his phone aside. Rooster paused before turning back to Maverick. “And . . . can you . . . can you not mention the part about me defying a direct order and everything that happened afterwards?”

“I won’t,” Maverick promised, earning a thankful nod from Rooster. “But, at some point, Brad, I think that you should be honest with her about it. As much as you can, given the sensitive information, anyways. Not that I’m in any position to give anyone marriage advice but . . . you should be honest with your wife.”

“I will,” Rooster returned quietly. “It’s just that she gets really stressed when I’m in the hospital. I don’t want to overwhelm her.”

“Are you scared about her reaction?”

“A little bit,” Rooster admitted honestly.

Maverick chuckled, reminiscing about how Goose always looked when he was worried about telling Carole about whatever shenanigans they got into back in the day.

“I’m sure that you’ll be fine.”

~~~~~

Maverick and Rooster were discharged from the hospital the next day.

Phoenix, along with Rooster’s wife and Kai, were supposed to pick them up. Rooster spotted Phoenix’s car and walked after it. The passenger door flew open and Rooster’s wife. She walked around the car to see that Phoenix was helping Kai out of the back seat.

Kai slid out of Phoenix’s car and immediately perked up when he spotted his dad quickly making his way over. But knowing her son, Rooster’s wife snatched him by the back of his shirt before he could run out into the parking lot.

“You have to hold Mommy’s hand when you’re in the parking lot,” she reminded her son.

She looked up and down the road before leading Kai across it. But once Kai safely stepped up onto the sidewalk, she released his hand and let Kai run to Rooster.

“Daddy!” Kai yelled happily, running into Rooster’s waiting arms.

Bradley bent down and scooped Kai up. Holding Kai to his chest, Rooster pressed a kiss to Kai’s hair as he rocked his son back and forth in his arms. Almost like Rooster was trying to soothe himself with his son’s presence.

“I missed you so much, Kai.”

Rooster pressed another kiss to Kai’s head before turning to his wife. She looked like she was trying to hold it together and just barely managing it. But when she caught Rooster’s gaze, she let some more emotion show. Wordlessly, Rooster held out an arm to her and she immediately ran into his embrace, officially reuniting the family of three.

“I’m alright,” Rooster assured her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m okay.”

As Rooster reassured his wife and son that he was fine, Maverick walked around them to stand beside Phoenix. After his wife and Kai were soothed, Rooster turned to introduce them to Maverick.

“Guys, this is Maverick. Mav, this is my wife,” Rooster stated, wrapping his arm around his wife’s waist.

“The man who pulled your papers?” Rooster’s wife asked sharply. Maverick winced at her tone.

“We got past that,” Rooster assured his wife, which caused her to immediately relax.

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you then,” she replied with a much warmer tone. Rooster’s wife walked over to give Maverick a proper hug that Maverick was happy to return. “And to put a face to the name after all the stories.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” Maverick replied, releasing Rooster’s wife.

“And this is my son, Kai,” Rooster added, bouncing his son lightly on his arm. Smiling at his son with complete and utter adoration, Rooster nudged him in the side. “Kai, this is Maverick.”

“Hi,” Maverick greeted Kai softly.

“Hi,” Kai returned shyly, resting his head on Rooster’s shoulder.

“Mav’s a pilot like me,” Rooster explained to his son, causing Kai to pick his head up again. “And he used to fly around with your Grandpa Goose.”

“Really?” Kai asked his dad, earning a nod from Rooster.

Kai stared over at Maverick with newfound curiosity and Maverick tried to not choke up at the clear similarities between Kai and Rooster. Kai wasn’t so much his dad’s twin, but he had that same expression and look in his eye that Maverick saw all the time on a younger Bradley. Offering a small encouraging smile to Kai, Maverick decided to approach.

“Yeah, your Grandpa Goose used to sit in my back seat,” Maverick replied, nodding along. “And he was the best at what he did.” Trying to not burst out into tears at the fact that he was talking about Goose while Baby Goose was holding Grandbaby Goose, Maverick managed a small smile. “Your grandpa’s callsign was Goose. Your dad’s is Rooster. What bird do you want as your callsign, Kai?”

“Mommy calls me ‘Duckie’,” Kai informed Maverick, ending his sentence with a giggle.

“Yes, because he’s impossible to pull out of the water once he’s in,” Rooster explained, shaking his head playfully at his son. “And he pretends that he can’t hear us.”

“No,” Kai giggled, clearly lying.

“He’s also a great liar,” Rooster quipped, tickling Kai’s stomach.

Kai squealed and pushed his dad’s hand away, but he couldn’t stop giggling. And Maverick tried to not burst out into tears again. Baby Goose had a baby. The little baby that he used to babysit and take for extra ice cream had a little baby of his own now.

God, Maverick was getting old.

~~~~~

After spending the day with the rest of the Dagger Squad, Maverick and the Bradshaw family of three retired to Maverick’s quaint residence in town. Rooster grew up in the house after Carole’s death and his old bedroom was perfectly preserved from that time.

It was only about a half an hour before Kai’s bedtime when Rooster approached Maverick in the kitchen.

“Can you watch Kai for a second?”

“Yeah, of course,” Maverick agreed, nodding along immediately. “But why? Where are you going?”

“I just thought that I should tell her,” Rooster explained, keeping his voice low. “There were too many close calls as it was with the rest of the Dagger Squad, so I need to tell her. About the mission and . . . my little stunt.”

“The couch is very comfortable,” Maverick joked, earning a tired sigh from Rooster. “You’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” Rooster replied, straightening up.

Rooster thanked Maverick before the two rejoined Kai and Rooster’s wife out in the living room. Rooster managed to find an old Connect 4 game in the cabinet and his wife tried to teach Kai how to play. They were sitting around the coffee table with Kai studying the layout closely.

“Can I play with you, Kai?” Maverick asked, moving to sit down beside Kai.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, not taking his eye off of the board.

Maverick saw Rooster lean down to whisper something in his wife’s ear before she nodded. Turning to Kai, Rooster’s wife leaned over and tapped him on the shoulder, causing Kai to look up.

“Behave for Maverick, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy.”

Rooster and his wife got up and headed out of the room to talk. Kai turned to Maverick once his parents were out of sight.

“Why did they leave?”

“They just needed to talk about some things. Adult things. Nothing fun,” Maverick stated, causing Kai to nod with a slight pout. Maverick moved to take the seat that Rooster’s wife was sitting in and picked up a yellow piece. “Did you take a plane to get over here, Kai?”

“Yeah,” Kai stated, smiling up at Maverick.

“Do you like flying?”

“Yeah.”

“Has your dad ever taken you flying before?” Kai shook his head dramatically, causing Maverick to nod along. “You just fly with your mom then?”

“Yeah. Daddy gets scared,” Kai informed Maverick, leaning on the coffee table.

“Well, it’s a little scary when you’re a pilot and someone else is flying the plane,” Maverick replied, very well acquainted with the control freak tendencies that popped up when a naval aviator flew commercial. “And your daddy just wants to make sure that you and everyone else is safe.”

“Mommy tells him to relax,” Kai replied, emphasizing the word with a wave of his hand.

Kai must have seen his mom do that exact routine at least a thousand times because he seemed to know the part by heart. He had the expression, the wave of his hand, and the tone down perfectly. Maverick couldn’t help but laugh.

“Does he listen to her?” Maverick quipped, failing at hiding his amusement.

“Sometimes,” Kai answered with a giggle.

“Like you?”

“Yeah.”

Maverick was about to ask Kai another question when Rooster’s wife’s voice echoed around the house. The door to Rooster’s old bedroom did little to muffle the shock and sheer incredulousness of Rooster’s wife’s question.

“You did what!?”

“Have you ever seen the moon, Kai?” Maverick asked the toddler, quickly getting up to his feet.

“Yeah,” Kai replied as Maverick scooped him up into his arms.

“Well, looking again wouldn’t hurt,” Maverick reasoned, setting Kai on his hip. “And maybe we’ll even see a few stars too.”

“Oh-kay,” Kai agreed with a sigh, laying his head on Maverick’s shoulder.

“And where was your brain during all of this!?” Rooster’s wife snapped loudly.

“Yeah, let’s go look at the stars, Kai,” Maverick stated quickly, hurrying out the back door.

“Was that Mommy?” Kai asked, staring back at the house.

“No, I don’t think it was her.”

Sequel: A Day with Duckie

[cowboydisaster]

Dark Red

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader word count: 5.6k summary: The Task Force 141 goes out drinking, and you wind up on your stomach in Ghost's bed. If you knew it would only take a few rounds of drinks, you would have gotten drunk with him earlier. (eventual smut, lots of family 141 interactions beforehand) a/n: This is my first COD fic and also the first thing I've written since May, so go easy on me if it's ooc pls xx. If you like this fic please give a follow or a reblog, I'm fixing up my blog and I'll be writing a lot more Simon. beta read by @margowritesthings warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni (smut, fingering, size difference, doggy)

masterlist

Your dress is wrapped tightly around your frame, held up by tiny golden chains that drape over your shoulders. It's dark green, and just barely covers your ass. It's definitely not the tactical gear that you’re used to wearing. You swallow thickly, pulling it down over your thighs as much as possible as you glance over yourself in the mirror. You barely recognize the reflection in front of you. No eye black, no tac-vest or combat boots. Tonight you’re not a soldier, you’re a civilian.

Price had arranged a night out to celebrate the 141’s latest win. He invited the Task Force alongside some allies for drinks at a club of all places, figuring everyone deserved to unwind. You were hesitant at first, but the boys all reassured you it would be just a few drinks. 

Once all the little details of your outfit are in place, you give yourself a onceover before pushing open Price’s bathroom door. Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Price are all leaning over the kitchen counter, speaking quietly about the mission. They smile, oblivious to you as you exit the bathroom, feeling a bit self conscious about the dress Kate insisted you wear. That is until Ghost catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye and quietens. He turns, and you watch his back straighten, hands in the pockets of his jeans as his eyes slowly run up and down your body. Something about that stare… you wonder if Ghost would ever see you the way you see him. It's been years now of you pining after him. You could never tell him. He’s your lieutenant, and besides, you’ve heard what happens to the recruits who make a move on Ghost. Every single one of them was harshly rejected and dropped from the program. You can't compromise your job, especially not for someone who doesn’t want you back. 

 Ghost stares, and the other three men turn to you in sync. A fierce blush blooms across your face as four pairs of eyes land on you. Ghost is wearing that familiar balaclava, the one he wears out in public or around the base. It hides everything but his eyes, and you stare into their swirling depths for a moment before the eye contact becomes too much. You clear your throat, glancing down over your dress. 

“Too much…?” You whisper, questioning your choice of fashion and makeup. 

“No…Not too mu–” Ghost is cut off as Soap lunges forward with a smile bigger than Texas and slaps you on the arm.

“Lookin’ good, bonnie lass!” Soap laughs. He looks nice himself. You’ve only seen him in sweats around the base, but tonight all four of your teammates are dressed to the nines. 

“Not so bad yourself, Johnny.” You smile, clutching a small purse to your hip. 

“We ready then, Cap?” Gaz asks, glancing up from his phone for a moment, “Laswell just got there, said she brought König.” 

“Yes.” Price smiles at you, checking his watch, “I've ordered two Ubers. Should both be here.” 

You follow them outside, smiling and nodding to Ghost as he holds the door open for you. The Captain and Gaz take the first car while you file into the second with Ghost and Soap. Soap sits in the front, leaving you in the back with Ghost. Your lieutenant is quiet most of the ride over, letting Johnny fill the silence, which he does. But it's hard to focus on Soap talking. You’re hyper aware of the eyes on you and how exposed you are. Your breasts are practically pushed up into your face, and the dress suddenly feels all too tight. You’re used to fighting, not celebrating, not partying. You take a few deep breaths, knowing that once you get a few drinks in your system you’ll feel better. 

“You alright?” 

Your eyes flick up. It’s Ghost, just barely over a whisper. His eyes are fixated on something out of the window, but he still must have noticed your anxiety. You nod.

“Just nervous.” You admit, “I’m not used to all this.” You whisper, gesturing down to your dress and matching strappy heels, then to the car that is driving you through the nightlife. Ghost smirks under his mask. 

“Me neither. Bourbon helps.” He says. 

“You drink bourbon?” You ask, glancing over. Soap hasn’t noticed your little conversation and continues to chat up the driver. You hadn’t taken Ghost as a bourbon man, he’s piqued your curiosity. 

“I fancy Kentucky.” He remarks. You chuckle. 

“Don’t let him know that.” You nod your head in Soap’s direction. 

“Never.” Ghost smirks, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. Your eyes fixate on the tattoos lining his left arm, just briefly exposed. You force your eyes away, knowing if you stare too long you’ll get caught up in the intricate pattern. The thought of running your fingers over those tattoos lingers in your head, soothing you enough to make the ride. 

—

The club is nice. Colored lights stream from the ceiling, a steady thrum of music vibrates lowly through the walls. You take in your surroundings, watching people drink, and dance with one another. It's a bit dark, hard to make out faces. You take note of all the exits while following behind Gaz and Price, both leading you all towards a closed off section of the club. Laswell is already there waiting along with her wife and König. The man must have already had a few drinks because he’s more relaxed than you've ever seen him. König’s eyes immediately land on you, and flutter down to the short cut off of your dress. You gasp as a burly figure pushes past you, separating you from König’s eyes. Ghost. He stands between the two of you and starts unclipping the velvet rope that separates you from the VIP section, much to the bouncer’s frustration. You blush, looking back to König whose eyes are sheepishly staring at the floor. Ghost must have pulled out his famous deadly glare. Your cheeks burn red. 

“There you are!” Laswell exclaims, motioning for the bouncer to lift the velvet rope that secures her area. No one seems to have noticed the little interaction between Ghost and König, thankfully. 

“VIP?” You chuckle. “Was that some CIA shit?” You ask, passing into the nicer, more secluded area of the club. A couch wraps around the corner wall, a table sitting in front of it. 

“Afraid not.” She smiles, wrapping an arm around her wife’s shoulders. You take a seat on the couch, watching as Ghost motions for Price to follow him towards the bar.

“We’ll be back.” He mumbles. Price pats Ghost on the shoulder as you watch them leave. 

“So, König?” Soap asks as he sits down, nodding towards the masked man. You take note that a beanie rests atop his head in place of his usual tac helmet. 

“Hmm?” König asks, suddenly alert. His eyes dart until they land on Soap. 

“How many drinks is it gonna take for you to shed the mask?” The scot asks. König grows quiet, tightly gripping his beer bottle by the neck. 

“Nein, I do not–” König begins before Soap jumps up, fist down on the table. 

“Nine?!” Soap laughs, “Keep em comin’, Ghost!” Soap hollers towards the bar. König shakes his head profusely.  

“No, that is not what I meant.” König tries to clear the situation up, but is drowned out by noise as Gaz and Soap laugh together. Laswell shoots you a knowing glance. You feel for her, being the only woman to watch these children.  

“You went with the dress I suggested.” Laswell notes, a proud smile gracing her lips. 

“I did.” You remark, blushing, “It's a bit tighter than what I’m used to.” You admit, sitting up straighter as a few from the table look back to you. 

“That's the point.” Laswell laughs, shooting you a quick wink. 

Before you can ask what she means by that, Ghost and Price return with two trays of shots. Half the shots are a golden, bronze color and the others are crystal clear. You raise an eyebrow as Ghost sits down beside you. 

“Get your bourbon?” You ask. 

“Had three down at the bar. You’ve got some catching up to do, yeah?” 

As everyone plucks shots from the trays, Ghost slides three in front of you with his knuckles. Two bourbons and one of the clear liquor. 

“What's this?” You ask, picking up the shot and holding it under your nose. It burns your nostrils, stealing the air from your lungs and replacing it with a sharp sting. 

“Patrón.” Ghost replies with a smirk. Your eyes follow as he grabs a clear shot from the tray with one hand, and pulls his mask up over his lips with the other. You’ve never seen his lips before. He brings the small glass to his lips, and you try to memorize the shape of his them, the jut of his jaw. It's gone in a flash as he downs the shot like it’s water before pulling his balaclava down over his chin. 

“Your turn.” He smirks, giant hand pushing the shot glass towards you. 

You follow suit, throwing your head back and letting the alcohol slide down your throat. You grimace at its strength, making a sour face. 

“Fuckin hell.” You cough. 

“You’ve got a bit of catching up to do.” Laswell points out, nodding down the table. You notice as Gaz takes the last shot from the first tray and your eyes boggle. 

— 

An hour later

Steady music thumps through the building. It feels slow, sensual. Maybe it’s because you’re wasted, but your confidence is through the roof as you make your way across the dance floor. Your eyes are locked onto your group, specifically searching for Ghost. The more alcohol that enters your system, the more you find yourself staring at him, noticing his every movement, every breath. You’d never allow yourself these thoughts while sober– the thought of wanting your Lieutenant is out of the question when your mind is clear, but right now it’s not. Your eyes search for him as you make your way back to the VIP section. 

“Lt?” You ask, sliding back onto the velvet sofa. 

“Went for a piss.” Soap exclaims.

“Why don’t you go meet him in the bathroom, maybe he could finally bend ya ov–” Johnny starts. 

“Soap!” Price cuts him off harshly. Soap only laughs, looking down the table to Gaz and the Captain. You look between the two of them, absolutely oblivious to the jokes that have been passed around the table all night.

“Oh, come on, Captain! He wants her and everyone knows it. We all see that shriveled up, cold, dead heart meltin’ at the sight of this bonnie.” Soap points to you. 

“Bloody hell, we bet on it!” Gaz chuckles, adjusting his cap.

“I must admit, I do see it.” König adds in. You squint down the table at him, and he immediately looks away. Price looks down at the boys like he’s schooling children. Your mouth falls open, taking in all the new information. 

“Remember that's your lieutenant you’re talking about. Leave his private life alone. You know how Simon is.” Price interjects, stopping the conversation before it gets out of hand. You blush fiercely, taken aback by their words. You don’t even think about what they’ve said, you can’t. Price looks to you apologetically. 

“What?” You ask, looking between them. “Ghost?” You double check, making sure that your hearing hasn’t totally left you. 

“He’s gone on you, mate.” Gaz adds, tone more serious than you would have expected.

“Christ, just pass me another drink.” You say, extending your hand out as König slides a shot down the table.

—

Thirty minutes later

You can feel his eyes on you. They’re burning through the thin fabric of your dress, where your breasts rest perfectly inside the silk, where the curve of your ass swells just above the hem of the dress. Your cheeks blush, whether from his eyes or the alcohol you’re not sure. Ghost doesn’t even try to hide his gaze, openly staring at you across the floor. His bourbon is held tightly in his hand as he watches you twirl on the dance floor between Soap and König. The lights aren't nearly as bright as your smile, and the night isn’t nearly as dark as the glint in your eyes. 

Ghost had watched men approach you on several occasions, and each time Soap shoved them away from you. You hadn’t given any of them the time of day. But Ghost? You’re taunting him, testing his self control to the point that he’s about to break. Every swing of your hips accompanies a purposeful glint in your eyes, a subtle bite of your lip. You’re teasing him, and he can’t take it. 

He deserves it. This is payback. He’s been apparently wanting you for months, and everyone in the damn Task Force knew about it but you. You’ve had enough of it. You extend your drink out for Soap to hold, accidentally bumping it against his chest and spilling a bit down his shirt. He takes the glass with furrowed eyebrows, looking down at your tipsy frame.

“Where ya headin’ to?” He yells over the music. 

“Have to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back, j-just watch my drink.” You stumble over your words, eyes never leaving Ghost’s. Soap nods, taking your cocktail and continuing his conversation with König. 

Ghost inhales deeply from across the room, eyes fixated on the taunting little “come hither” motion of your finger. You turn away from him, making your way towards the VIP bathrooms. You walk slow enough that he can follow after you, not that you’re even capable of walking too fast, lest you lose your balance and fall over. You push past a few other people, your heart beating quickly as you go. The music is loud and the lights are low, which you’re grateful for. Hopefully no one notices Ghost trailing behind you. A warm buzz radiates in your chest, pulsing down your bones as the liquor you’ve been downing boosts your confidence and slows your movements. 

You push the door open, stepping into the dimly lit bathroom. It’s clean and orderly, perks of the VIP section. Immediately, you walk in front of the oval mirror, checking over your outfit and fixing your hair. You reapply a quick layer of red lipstick, tucking it back into your purse just as you hear the lock click. 

Before you can turn around, a solid warmth presses against your back. Ghost. The sink digs into your hip bones as he sandwiches you in, one hand pushing your hair over your shoulder. His skin on yours is more intoxicating than any drinks you've had tonight. He's never touched you, not like this. You giggle, tipsy as ever as he rolls his balaclava over his nose. 

"Ghost–" You whine, fingers clenching around the sink as he gently nips at the skin of your neck. He inhales your perfume, exhaling in a deep growl that rumbles through you. 

"Simon." He corrects, hands wrapping around your hips. For just a moment, you sober up. He wants you to use his real name? 

Your coherent thoughts fall away as he turns you around, hands nearly bruising your waist. He kisses you. It's sloppy and drunk, but it's everything. All the months of wondering, and hoping– he's kissing you. If you'd known it would only take a few rounds of drinks for the courage, you would have gotten drunk with him earlier. Painted fingernails dig into his shoulders as you lean up for more. His tongue delves into your mouth, and you whine. He tastes like his favorite bourbon, smells like expensive cologne– his signature scent that you could recognize anywhere. Eventually, you pull away for the oxygen that he's so easily stolen from you. 

"Everyone said…" You take a deep breath, glassy eyes flicking from his scarred lips and chin up to his eyes. He waits for a response, but sees hesitation.

"Hmmm, what did they say, love?" 

"They said you wanted me." 

"How couldn't I?" Ghost growls. 

You yelp as he grabs underneath your thighs and lifts you up onto the sink. His hands are massive, maneuvering you as if he was trained to do so. Your legs wrap around his waist, grinding against the pressure in his jeans.

"Fuckin hell, I've wanted you since you first joined the Task Force." Ghost growls in between kisses and bites to your pulsepoint.

You think back to all that time ago. It seems like ages since you met the cool headed, brooding, terrifying Simon "Ghost" Riley. You remember thinking how easily he could break you. Now?– Oh, how you want him to. 

Hearing him say it out loud sends a wave of need straight to your core. Your hands shoot for his black leather belt, but he shakes his head, stopping you before you can unclasp it.

"Not here, love." He shakes his head, gripping your chin to press one slow, sweet kiss to your plump lips. Your eyes slip shut, and you pout as he pulls away from you and slides his balaclava back down over his chin. Disappointment pools over you as you search for an explanation.

"Flat's not far." Is all he says before he grabs your wrist and pulls you off the sink. He unlocks the bathroom door and begins pulling you back towards the crowd. "Here. Order us an Uber, yeah?" Simon asks you, slipping his phone into your free hand. 

It's too much for your drunken mind to take in as he leads you through the crowd of people. Colored lights strobe, making it hard for you to make out faces, but eventually you spot your group across the club. Soap is still holding your drink, but now he's looking around. Price and Laswell are with him, eyebrows drawn together in worry.

Remembering your task, you look down to Ghost’s phone. It's already opened up to the app, but messages are coming in and you can't swipe them away quick enough. The light bothers your eyes, and you attempt to read the messages as they flutter across the blurry screen.

Cpt. Price:

-Is y/n with you at the table? We seem to have lost her. Very worried.

You swipe the message away, and quickly order an Uber to Ghost’s saved home address. It's difficult, and you have to squint to make out all the swirling numbers and bright lights. But eventually, even in your state, you manage to get a confirmation code and receipt. An unsaved number pops up, more than one notification at a time lighting up the screen:

-LT, where'd you end up?

-Y/n asked me to hold her drink, disappeared on me. 

-OH SHIT

-LT!

-YOU HOUND!

-HAHA! Getting a pump, eh, LT? No worries, lad. I'll tell the Cap what's going on.

Several erotic emojis pop up on the screen and you blush fiercely.  Then you giggle. Soap, of course. You shake your head to rid yourself of the idea. The last thing you want is for Soap to blab about this. 

Simon pulls you through the exit and into the cold night. The breeze causes a shiver to run up your spine, and your dress helps none. As he leads you towards the road, you check the address once more and slip Simon’s phone back into his blazer pocket. 

"I d-didn't know you lived in Manchester." You whisper as he leads you out into the cold night. 

"Manny, born and raised.” You can hear Ghost huff through his mask, as if something humors him, “But no one knows where I live." He mutters, leading you down towards the busy street. 

No one except for you.

Cars pass by, and scantily clad men and women rush down the sidewalks searching for the same pleasure that you’re seeking. You bite your lip, feeling a bit nervous now that this is actually happening. Simon squeezes your hand. 

A steady trickle of rain begins to sprinkle down from the dark night sky, and goosebumps trail down your bare arms and legs. As soon as you tense, Simon is pulling his blazer off. 

“Simon, that's not necessary, really–” You begin to protest, but he is already wrapping the expensive jacket around your shoulders. 

“Hush.” He warns, and you obey. It's instinct. He’s your lieutenant after all.

You can see the tug of a smirk under his mask, blonde eyelashes fluttering as his brown orbs flick down over your body. You frown lightly, feeling bad that he’s given up his jacket for your sake. 

“Don’t worry, love. I'll be taking it all off soon, yeah?”

The alcohol buzzing through your system, making everything fuzzy, only intensifies the burning desire in between your legs. You don’t know how much longer you can wait. If you had it your way, he would have already taken you, bent you over the sink and had his way. The thought alone causes butterflies to fall in your stomach. Cold fingers wrap around Simon’s phone, still resting in the coat you’re now wearing. His recent notifications are all from Soap, and you scroll through them until a new one pops up on the screen.

“Car’s here.” You whisper, half lidded eyes searching until you find the sleek, black Volvo as it pulls against the curb. He takes your hand again, pulling you towards the car. 

“Simon, how long is this ride gonna be? I don’t know how much longer I can take this.” You admit, wanting nothing more than to tear your damn dress to shreds and throw yourself at the man beside you. He only huffs, showing a self restraint that you could only dream of. 

“Patience.” Is all he says as he opens the car door for you. You step inside the nice car, scooting towards the other side to make room for Simon to sit in the back with you. You see the momentary panic in the driver’s eyes as a 6’4 masked man climbs into his backseat, but Simon only places his hand on your thigh and politely confirms the details with the man. 

Simon grips your thigh, the large pads of his fingers leaving imprints on your soft flesh. You shake your ankle, distracting yourself from the desire growing in your abdomen.

“Drive fast, yeah?” Simon mumbles, sliding twenty quid to the driver.

—

The door lock clicks. Simon checks it twice. 

His hands are on you in an instant, picking you up by your thighs and pushing you up against the wall. He didn’t turn the lights on, and your eyes struggle to adjust to the dark as Simon’s lips run over your jaw in sloppy kisses. You moan, hands wrapping around his neck and resting on the back of his balaclava. 

“Simon, please–” You whine, throwing your head back as he nips your earlobe. 

“Just a second, darling.” Ghost growls, holding you against him. He carries you through the dark flat, maneuvering drunkenly down an even darker hall. He approaches a door, and kicks it open like a human battering ram. You’re slowing him down, your lips pressing against him everywhere that they can reach, leaving love bites that he’ll still have in the morning. You kick your heels off before he even sets you down, your hands tearing off the blazer from your limbs. It hits the ground, Simon’s phone buzzing silently in the pocket. He’ll find several missed calls from the boys in the morning. You don’t even want to think about the notifications your phone is receiving. Luckily, you dropped your purse as soon as you entered the front door, so it can be a problem for tomorrow. 

Simon gently tosses you down on his king sized bed, and you fall onto the plush black blankets. They’re warm and soft and they smell like him. It’s all too intoxicating. You lean forward and unclasp Simon’s belt buckle as quickly as your intoxicated hands can manage as he pulls his shirt over his head, not bothering to unbutton it. You’re taken aback as you notice a sizable scar on his ribs. It's a messy, deep, pink scar that indents into his otherwise pale skin. Your eyebrows wrinkle, fingertips brushing near the flesh before he snatches your hand away, squeezing it too tight to the point that it hurts.

“Don’t.” Is all he says. It’s a warning, and you blush a deep crimson out of embarrassment. 

“Sorry.” You mutter, quietly. Simon brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a slow kiss to your knuckles. 

Ghost leans forward, hand gripping the side of your neck as he kisses you again. His balaclava tickles your nose as you deepen the kiss, leaning more into him. Any embarrassment or awkwardness from your last interaction falls away as he pushes his jeans down over his legs, lips still interlocked with yours. Simon steps out of his jeans and boxers, and your jaw falls slack. 

“Simon–” You stutter, eyes fixated on the length between his legs. Your eyes flick back up to his face, seeing the proud smirk he wears, even through the mask.. He simply won’t fit. It’s just not possible– He’s too big.

“I can’t-” You shake your head.

“I’ll be gentle, love.” He reassures, climbing overtop of you on the bed. Nervously, you nod. You trust him. Big hands grab you by the waist and flip you onto your stomach. You whine, clutching the sheets below you. He shushes you, and you gasp as golden beads and zipper teeth fly across the room, bouncing off of the floor and the glass window overlooking the city. A loud tear rings out as Ghost shreds your dress from the seams.

“Fuck, Simon! That was expensive!” You yelp as he pulls the ruined fabric from your body, discarding it on the floor. Laswell’s gonna kill you.

“I’ll  buy you a new one.” He growls, warm hand running down your bare back. His finger loops under the black lace thong you’re wearing. Simon smirks, “All for me?” He asks, releasing the lace so it smacks back down onto your skin. 

“Yes– all for you, only you, Simon.” You mumble, pushing your ass back up in hopes that he’ll touch you.

“That’s my girl.” 

You moan at his words, hands moving to your hips to shove the lace down off your legs, but he brushes your hands away, stopping you.

“Leave it on.” Simon rumbles at your back. You nod your head against the pillow, bringing your hands to rest under your head. Ghost pulls your thong string to the side, letting it rest just out of the way.

“Fuckin ‘ell, love.” Simon takes a breath, trying to keep the control that you’re so close to snapping as his fingers trail over your dripping folds. 

“Fuck, Simon. Stop teasing.” You beg, hips pushing back against his hand. He chuckles, dipping two fingers into your throbbing cunt. 

“O-Oh!” You whine, gripping the sheets as he hooks his thick fingers, hitting every sweet spot inside of you. Simon kisses your back, nudging your legs with his less busy hand so that they’re folded under your stomach and spread apart. He positions you low enough that your stomach touches the bed. He curls his fingers, scissoring them occasionally as you throb and whine for him. He groans at the noises you make, working you open until you’re ready. 

“Perfect.” He grumbles, sliding his fingers out of you. You whine in confusion until you feel the tip of his length teasing at your entrance. 

“Ready, love?” Ghost asks. You moan, biting your lip and nodding your head. 

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes. Im ready, just– please Simon, fuck!” You stutter. 

Simon slowly pushes in, and you gasp for air as he parts you like the fucking red sea. It hurts a little, and your nose wrinkles as you exhale. Simon notices the hitch in your breath, carefully examining your reaction to make sure you’re comfortable. It only takes a few moments for you to acclimate, and then he feels incredible. His size stretches you, reaching depths you didn't think possible. He hits every sweet spot as he spears into you. 

Simon’s chest presses against your back as he pushes into you. His scarred lips lock onto your neck, biting you as he fucks you from behind. He grips the headboard to steady himself, nearly leaving indents in the wood as he thrusts.

It's rough, drunk and sloppy as he drills into you. He starts out at a slow and steady pace, grinding into you rhythmically so as to not hurt you. Your exhales become sharp huffs, swirling together with the puffs of air he exhales next to your ear. If only you could turn around and kiss him again. You crave his lips against yours, satisfying the craving you’ve been ignoring for so long. But you know Simon might not be ready for that level of intimacy yet. You’ve heard stories, connected the dots. 

All too soon, you find yourself teetering on the edge from his movements. You gasp and moan under him, whimpering out his name so loudly that you’re sure the entire building can hear. The headboard rocks against the wall with every thrust, loudly slamming and leaving dents in the drywall. Neither of you care, too wrapped up in each other to even realize. 

Your neck is bruised from Simon’s lips, adding to the pleasure that’s pushing you over the edge. You fight it, but lose as pulsing heat tears through your core. Stars explode in your vision, eyes shut tight enough that they wrinkle. 

“F-uck, Simon!” You scream, nails digging into the sheets as your whole body trembles with the weight of your orgasm. Your walls squeeze Simon’s length in time with his thrusts, turning him into a groaning mess. 

“Bloody fuckin ‘ell." Simon groans, accent thicker than usual. His warm breath tickles your ear, and you gasp as he bottoms out, hitting your cervix. 

“You- You on the pill?” Simon manages to stutter out between deep grunts. He can’t risk pregnancy, can’t be a father. But you feel so fucking good and he can’t bring himself to unbury himself from your perfect, dripping cunt. 

“Got the patch– you’re good. Just fucking fill me up, please.” You beg, rocking your hips against him. He nearly curses at your words. You have a foul mouth in bed, something he wouldn’t have guessed. You whimper his name, and that’s all it takes. 

Simon grunts deep and guttural, and with one an iron grip on your hips, he fills you up with his spend. You moan, taking it all until you can’t, and it comes dripping out around him before he’s even finished. 

“That’s it, fffuck– y/n.” He grunts as the last of his seed spills out.

You press your forehead against the sheets, wincing as he pulls out of you and collapses beside you on the bed. A sheen of sweat lines both your bodies, but as much as you’d like a shower, you’re exhausted. A digital clock rests on the table beside Simon’s bed, and you sit up, squinting to look at it. 0300. Damn. 

You look back towards Simon. He’s half sitting up against the headboard, half laying down. You notice the thousand yard stare that he’s putting off, and you gently cup his chin, pulling his gaze towards you. 

“You okay?” You ask, rolling up his balaclava with your dainty fingers. You uncover the subtle smile on his lips. You smile in retur, half lidded eyes focusing on the shape of his lips. Your thumb traces over them gently.

“Better now.” He whispers. You press a kiss to his lips, slow and sweet before pulling away. 

“Get some sleep, love.” He says, softer than you’ve ever heard his voice. Much to his surprise, you tuck yourself into the crook of his side, wrapping your arms around his torso. Sleep overcomes you almost immediately. He’s too warm, too perfect. It’d be impossible for you to stay awake next to the comforting, human heater that he is. 

Simon hesitates. It’s been a long time since anyone has been this close to him. The bourbon gave him confidence enough to bring you home, but this is a very new territory, and not even the alcohol can guide him through this one. Sex is one thing, but intimacy? Emotional vulnerability? Simon burned those handbooks long ago.

“Love?” He asks, awkwardly looking to see if you’re awake. You don’t respond, asleep he confirms. Simon’s not sure what to do. He doesn’t want to move you. Are you comfortable? Is he too close? Too warm? 

He sighs, looking down at your arms tightly wound around him. No one’s shown him this type of affection, not ever. He’s not sure how to reciprocate it, but he wants to. One day at a time. Simon pulls the blanket up over your waist, checking twice to make sure that it's covering you. Carefully, he places a hand over your back, feeling your soft skin against his. 

He doesn’t sleep at all, opting to stay awake and watch the small rise and fall of your back on his lap. He doesn’t deserve you, he's sure. But you’re here, and that’s something.

[minniesmutt]

♱ ━━━━━━ 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋: 𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐀 

♱ ━━━ CONTENT: MENTION OF DRUGS, ALCOHOL, VIOLENCE, PRISON, THERAPY MENTIONS, MORE OF A FILLER CHAPTER, WET DREAM, COCKWARMING, GRINDING, PET NAMES, IMPLIED MORE ROUNDS ♱ ━━━ WC: 1K ♱ ━━━ PAIRING: FELIX X READER ♱ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog ♱ ━━━ a repost from my old blog

     Information was always easy for Felix to find. Everything was on the internet. Everything was put into databases. Police files, card info, medical information, everything. It was such easy access.

     From day one, Felix was already looking into Y/n, even before Minho asked him. He knew they didn’t find anything at her old apartment. So to the internet, he went. Checking her social media first. The fabricated life people selectively chose to put out. 

     Most photos were with friends. Trips, clubs, drinks, anything. Normal twenty-something-year-old behavior. Moving on to her friend’s profiles, it was the same story. Looking into them first.

     Seana was clean essentially. She had no issues with the law and worked a good job to keep herself afloat. Posted about her friends just like Y/n. Nothing was an issue with her. Karina had a bit of a record; driving under the influence, hit and runs, possession of illegal drugs. She had a job but more of a part-time thing. Nothing that really helped support the lifestyle she wanted to portray online.

     Looking into the family was next. From what he gathered and found out from reports, her dad hadn’t been in her life since she was young and was in jail on the other side of the country. There were no records of calls to anyone since his incarceration. Pretty content with rotting away in the system. Multiple times considering he had a bit of a history of being released and getting back in months later. 

     Her mom had passed away a few years ago. Coroners report stating a mix of drugs and alcohol. Grandparents having passed away or lived elsewhere in the country. Y/n essentially had no family from what Felix could tell. He felt a little bad for her, being on your own like that could hurt.

     Checking through medical records were next on the list. The first thing he noticed was notes from therapy sessions. Becoming very interested, he made his own copy of the notes and saved it onto his computer before he heard the elevator ding.

     “Felix?” He heard Y/n’s voice call.

     “Yeah?” He called back as he minimized the windows and pulled up some other things he had been looking into for Chan.

     Y/n walked into his little home office as he turned around in his chair. Sitting in his loungewear— a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt— as she made her way over to him.

     “What’s up, princess?” Felix asked as she made her way over to him.

     “Just a bit bored, figured I come bug you,” Y/n said as he pulled her onto his lap.

     “Keep me company while I work then, yeah?”

     “Can do,” Y/n smiled as he spun the chair around back to his screens.

     Y/n wrapped her arms around him and listened to his keyboard taps and mouse clicks. It was soothing to listen to honestly. Lulling her back into sleep on top of the blonde’s lap. 

     Felix noticed her asleep a few minutes later, gently rubbing her back before pulling her medical files out again. Reading through it, a few things jumped out at him. Trust issues, compulsively lying, unwilling to work through trauma.

     Felix emailed the notes he thought were most important to Chan but kept reading. 

     “Client has mentioned early life with mother but not much. Briefly mentioned biological mother being under the influence often and redirecting anger onto the client.”

     “Client laughs when explaining a core event in her life.”

     “Clients says alcohol intake has gone down; was previously using to cope.”

     Felix kept reading. He could make guesses now why she chose to stay with them. Given her family history, maybe some lack of attention growing up caused her to seek it from anywhere in her adult life. Now, she had eight men ready to do that at any time of the day. 

     Being a liar could be useful to them. But it made him wonder; only one friend had been caught by law enforcement and charged. The other one was clean from head to toe. Y/n seemingly had a history of issues— using to cope could mean getting into some trouble. But nothing. 

     But she seemed so unphased by the eight being gangsters. Maybe she’d never been caught? Maybe she was clean? It was a little difficult to tell. 

     Felix reclined back into his chair and wrapped his arms around Y/n. He gently rubbed her back as he took in the information. He knew Chan had a plan from the beginning of this arrangement, but he also had a feeling this information was going to give him a bit more of an idea to use her.

     Felix chuckled a bit to himself as he went back to some other tasks. “Lix,” Y/n mumbled

     “Yes, princess?” He asked looking down at her. Her eyes still closed but little moans came out of her as she subtly grinded on him.

     “Silly girl,” Felix said as he moved his hands down to her ass and pulled her closer, kissing the side of her head, “Y/n.” He said

     “Mhm?” She asked, moving her head to hide in his chest.

     “Having a fun little dream?” Felix teased

     “Yes.”

     “Want some help?”

     “Please.”

     Y/n was happy she was just wearing panties and one of the boy’s t-shirts. Made it easier for him to move his sweatpants and boxers down and push her panties to the side. Lining his tip up with her entrance and slowly sank her down onto him. Y/n moaned as her walls stretched for him till he was fully inside of her.

     “Feel so good,” Y/n muttered into his chest.

     “Yeah? Think you just like having a cock in you princess,” Felix got back to work. Y/n held onto him tightly as she slowly started to grind herself against him.

     “Gonna use me to make yourself cum?” Felix asked, his baritone voice going straight to her core.

     “Please lix,” Y/n whined

     “Go ahead, princess. Just know I get to use you to cum later.”

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♱ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

HIHIHIIHI!!! i luv luv LUVVVV your writing!! you're one of my favorite writers on this app fidhuhgseuhsdfsifj ><

may i request some fluff (or smut; whichever you prefer!) with leon wherein the reader is an artist, and she has this lil notebook filled to the brim with sketches (whether that be normal sketches or... spicy ones) of leon but she hasn't shown leon the notebook BUT he ends up finding it and teasing her??

AND (if you DO write it as smut) WHAT IF READER DREW SOME SKETCHES OF SEX POSITIONS AND LEON USES THOSE POSITIONS WHE THEY HAVE SEX!?!??!?!?!? I'M GOING CRAZY OVER THIS THOUGHT RN DJFHSIDFUHIU

keep up the good work with all the writing you do!! you're an amazing writer, and i hope you have a great day :>

Hello my angels!! Thank you guys again for 400 followers im forever grateful for you guys. i was so fond of this little plot i HAD to write but it’s def not my best. Happy monday <3

DISCLAIMER: This is an 18+ blog! If you are underaged or don’t have an age indicator in your bio, please don’t interact!

AFAB Artistic reader x Pre Re4 Leon

Warnings: Leon’s a little tease. Mentions of ripping clothing, couch sex, Leon’s pretty soft in this :)

Word count: 3,050

Meeting Leon was just a lucky coincidence, almost four years ago now. The worst job you swore you’d ever had, but that changed once you met Leon. Instead of typing the files in the computer, your foot tapped against the marble flooring.

“That’s really good.. Do you draw often?”

You slammed your notebook shut, scared your boss had caught you again. Your eyes glanced up to the man peering over the desk, a tight gray t-shirt on and a pair of cargo pants.

“So sorry, sir. Are you here for training?”

Your fingers pressed against the keys of your desktop as you stared up at him, waiting for an answer. He looked like his ego had been beaten down when you didn’t reply to him, nodding his head at you.

“Yeah, um, Kennedy, Leon.”

You wrote his name down on the paper, handing him the small slip with a grin.

———-

She was new, I think. Her hair was pulled into that pretty bun, dazed as ever. Pretty pencil skirt and an off-white long sleeve. Beautiful handwriting, too, Leon’s thumb brushing over the slip in his hand, pulling out his wallet to shove the slip inside.

The next day he hoped you’d be sitting there, looking bored out of your mind. His arm pushed against the heavy glass door; he couldn’t help but smile seeing you at your desk. Why is he smiling?

“Busy day?”

Leon couldn't help but smile as you jumped in your seat, slamming the notebook shut- again. Your little smile tugged at your glossed lips as you held at the pen, scribbling his name.

“Goodbye, Leon.”

Your teasing voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He grabbed the red slip in your hand, dragging the bag off your desk as he walked down the hall again.

——————

For days, even weeks after. Leon would always ensure he showed up early, fascinated by your presence and the way you scribbled his name on the notepad on your desk when he would say something to make you blush.

“Hey, so… remember that sushi restaurant I told you about?”

Leon’s first words as he walks up to the desk, placing his bag on your file as you roll your eyes, nodding up at him as you type something into the computer.

“What about it?”

You ask as you push your rolling chair back, waiting by the printer as it turns on. Your head leans back as you look at him. He looked handsome as ever today. His training was working, that’s for sure, his shoulders being so much broader and his arms becoming so defined with muscle.

“Well, today is my last day of training. Did you want to go out with me as a celebration?”

It wasn’t for celebration; Leon just finally had an excuse to ask you out. Spending almost three months talking to you and getting to know you, yet he has never asked you to dinner. Your face lit up as you rolled back to the computer, stapling the papers together and using it as an excuse to cover the bright red that invaded your cheeks.

“Sure- what time?”

You asked up to him, clearing your throat as your hand rubbed your cheek to make it seem like you weren’t blushing. Cute, Leon thought as his tongue brushed over his bottom lip.

“Seven? I can pick you up.”

Even offering to pick you up? Your heart was in your throat as you nodded shyly, smiling as you wrote your address on a sticky note and handed it to him.

“I’ll be ready.”

You handed him his pass along with the sticky note of your address, his eyes reading over the number over and over before he smiled at you, tapping your desk a few times and walking down the hall as he does every single day.

———-

Why so shaky? The knocking on your door echoed through your living room, your hands brushing through your hair again as you did a small circle in your mirror.

You thanked god you wore heels, quickly glancing through the peephole to see Leon. He made your heart jump just by standing there. You swore he looked you up and down when you opened the door- but this was one-sided. You were so in love with him. Your coworkers make fun of you when you’re on your break, eyes following him from the expansive open training rooms.

Obsession was a strong word- but even you could admit it was getting to the point of obsession. You hoped after he left the facility, you wouldn’t have to see him again, especially since it was his last day, but he just had to ask you to dinner, didn’t he?

“Are you ready?”

Leon asked as he looked around your apartment, scanning all the books on your shelf. You wanted to say yes, but your hand reached up, your eyebrows frowning as you noticed you weren’t wearing the necklace your brother had gotten you.

“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be back.”

He couldn’t help but watch you walk down your hallway, fingers tapping at your sides like at work. Snoopy, maybe. His eyes darted down to the notebook on your coffee table. It’s the one you always have on your desk. Light purple with random stickers all over the front and back. His fingers traced over where your name was carved before he looked down to the hall to check if he was clear to look through it. The first few pages are drawings of the statues at work, the plants, yourself, and your glossy lips. His eyebrows frowned at the empty pages, going on for almost five before he finally saw it. His name was written in your pretty cursive; below was the soft sketch of his face, his handsome smile, and the small indent in his chin. Sketch after sketch of him leaning over your desk with the cheekiest smile.

The next page sketches his lips, his tongue darting out slightly through the corner in one and pressed together in another. Sketches of the way his eyes sparkle next to them.

His slender fingers traced the page looking at the sketches of his arms, some with his knife in his hand, some just holding a water bottle. He peeped his head down the corner of the hallway again, hearing the echo of your voice on the phone. His fingers moved before his eyes as he flipped the page, his cheeks flushing a deep red at the sketches of his hands rubbing up your waist. Now he was paying attention, graphics of his fingers in your mouth, your legs thrown over his shoulders, his head thrown back, and his Adam’s apple more than prominent.

“Leon?”

You stuttered, your heart pounding against your chest. Your breath feels so caught in your throat, your eyes staring at his hands holding the spine of your notebook. You blink into reality, snatching the notebook from him as you firmly have it against your chest.

“Why.. would you go through my things..”

You laughed, embarrassed, as Leon stared at you. His presence was now super overwhelming. He just.. stared at you. Great, now he hates me? He thinks I’m so weird…

“Why’d you just leave it out?”

What? Jesus fucking Christ, what?

“It’s my apartment; what do you mean..”

You laugh bitterly as you push the notebook onto your shelf, your hands slightly shaking.

“I didn’t draw any of that. I left it at work for a few days, so maybe it was stolen or something.”

There we go. Perfect excuse. Leon’s feet shuffled till he was standing beside you, pulling the notebook off the shelf next to you.

“Alright, that’s understandable. If they aren’t yours, you wouldn’t mind me looking through them again.”

Your face flooded with embarrassment. Your back turned to him as your eyes squeezed shut at the sound of him flipping through the pages.

Leon felt his pants grow tighter at the sketch of your pretty folds wrapped around his cock, then the illustrations of just your pussy made his cock grow painfully harder, your eyes shifting between the notebook and the bookshelf. There were pages after pages of just Leon and you, sometimes just Leon, small notes here and there. The last page is a sketch of the two of you hugging and a small note

“Seven, Leon’s sushi place”

Leon, yet again, closed the notebook, laying it on the shelf as you held your arms, sighing at his silence. His hand rubbed your arm softly, taking your hand in his. He rocked behind you, resting his cheek on the side of your head.

“Cmon’ let’s go eat.”

———-

The drive back to your apartment was so silent. Your head spun as you looked out the window, admiring the pretty night sky. Leon’s handheld at your thigh, his thumb rubbing small circles on your smooth skin. Biting at your nails nervously, your head turns to Leon. Why did he have to be so handsome? Hand gripping the steering wheel, hair perfectly rested against his cheek. The white button-down he wore fit him so perfectly. He believed you, right? You felt guilt in your heart, thinking about how you sat at your desk, legs crossed so close together at the thought of Leon fucking you stupid. It’s not everyday you meet a man like him. You craved him, but you would never tell him that. Leon’s car stopped, your daydreaming stopping as he pulled his keys and shoved them in his pocket. What a gentleman, he opens your door for you, holding his hand out. Your hand grabbed at his as you stepped out, holding your purse to your side as you whispered a small thank you to him as you reached for your keys.

The two of you stopped in front of your door, your heart starting to ache at the thought of never seeing him at work again, all the conversations you guys have had. The silence was uncomfortable now; you looked up at Leon with a slight frown before you reached up and brought him in for a tight hug, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as he hugged you back.

“I’m going to miss seeing you every day.”

You laugh into his shoulder. He laughs back in response as he pulls away from the hug, your hand reaching to unlock your door as he watches you. You step inside your dark apartment, looking at him from the door with a gentle smile still on your face.

“I’ll call you, I promise.”

Leon speaks as he watches you stand against the door frame.

“Bye.”

“Bye, Leon.”

The door slams. Why are you going to cry? Is it because he thought you were a massive creep? You held onto the wall as you kicked off your heels, sighing in frustration as you threw your purse to the ground. Your body jumped at the pounding at the door. Though you were taught better, you swung it open. Leon stood his hands on his hips, staring at the ground.

“Le-“

Leon pushed his way into your apartment, his perfect hands cradling your face as he smashed his lips into yours. Your feet struggled to keep up with him moving you back into your living room. Where did this come from? His hands hungrily gripped at your hips, your thighs hitting the arm of your couch. Leon's head dipped down your neck, pressing his tongue to the softness of your skin.

“Leon, wait..”

Your eyes flutter open as you reach down, grabbing his face. Leon stared up at you, his breathing labored.

“What happened?”

Your thumb rubbed across his cheek as he stood, pulling you in closer to him.

“You think I don’t want you? Do you know how hard it was not to bend you over this couch after flipping through that notebook?”

He grumbled as he turned you around, pressing his palm up your back as he bent you against the arm of your sofa. Your back arched in response as you looked back at him with red cheeks.

“Every word I've ever said to you makes you blush like that, you know.”

He’s right. But it’s hard not to blush when he compliments your every detail. Leon’s fingers dragged the zipper down your back, his lips following. So much softer than you had imagined. He stood again, tugging at your sleeves, smiling at your bare back. You gasped as you heard a slight tearing, your head flying back to see Leon had ripped your dress. Leon chuckled as the fabric of your dress dropped to the ground, his hands brushing over your hips.

“I’ve always loved watching you grab papers, your hips swaying.”

Leon smirks against your shoulder, his lips pressing against your neck again, your breathing shaky as he sucks at your skin. His pretty lips leave red patches all over your skin that will later be small purple markings that’ll be so prominent. Leon lifts himself, grabbing you to lie on your sofa, smiling down at you as his fingers work at unbuttoning his shirt.

It all felt like a dream, Leon’s shirt dropping to your floor as he tugged his dress pants down his legs. Hypnotized by him, the way his arms flex when he comes to hover over you, his hands holding at your thighs as he drags you further down the couch, his lips pressing against yours again. Leon’s lips ghosted over your skin as he stared at you through hooded eyes. Your eyes roll slightly when his fingers press over your clothed clit, rubbing small circles into you as he licks over your chest, leaving his marks on you there too. Your hips buck into his hand, a laugh coming from his lips as he pulls back, staring down at you as he pushes your panties aside, his fingers slipping into you with ease. Your mouth hangs open slightly as you stare at him.

“So wet.. all for me?”

Leon’s voice was so husky, so different than it usually was; you couldn’t help but let out a moan as his fingers dragged over your walls, your body lifting onto your shoulder as you looked down, your hips tilting up slightly to watch his fingers push in and out of you. The feeling was intoxicating, your head throwing back as he used his other hand to rub at your clit.

“You like watching? Watching how greedy this little pussy is..”

Leon couldn’t help but moan himself as you tightened around his fingers, his eyes staring down at you, sucking in his fingers. He groans as he tugs his boxers down, a whine leaving your lips at the feeling of his fingers no longer filling you. His hands grab at the back of your knees, holding them with one of his larger hands as his other hand grabs ahold of his cock, which was painfully hard. His lips parted slightly as he pressed himself into you, his grip around your leg tightening at the feeling of you squeezing him. He was so thick, so much bigger than what you could handle, a whimper leaving your lips as he pushed himself into you more. His hand drops your legs resting against his waist as he leans over you, grabbing at your jaw to pull you into a sloppy kiss, his tongue pressing into your bottom lip as he fully bottoms himself into you, causing you to gasp into his mouth. Leon let out a soft whimper as he leaned up, holding at your thighs as he rocked into you. You looked so beautiful finally lying below him; he had waited for this too fucking long.

“You look so fucking beautiful taking me like this..”

Leon groans down at you as your hands reach for his shoulders, pulling him back down to press his chest against yours as his speed increases. His face comforts your shoulder as your hands grab at his back, your nails scraping at his back as he lifts your hips, the new angle making him hit that perfect spot.

“I- Leon!”

Leon nodded his head as he looked down at you, forehead glistening with his sweat and his hair sticking to his skin.

“I know, baby, I know.”

He knew because you were gripping him so tightly, he was fighting his hardest not to let himself go inside of you, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he watched you squirm beneath him, warmth flooding your stomach and your breaths increasing as he pushed his palm into your stomach. Random babbles leave your lips as your arm comes up, covering your face as you cum around him, your walls fluttering against him, causing a loud groan to escape his lips as he pulls himself out of you, moving your hand from your stomach as his cum splatters all over your soft skin.

You two stare at each other, catching your breath. His arms reach forward, moving your arm from your flushed face.

“There you are.”

He mumbles as he kisses you softly, standing up and reaching down to pull up his boxers. He’s gone for almost two minutes, yet you’re still lying on the couch, eyes studying the ceiling.

“You organize your laundry room weirdly.”

Leon’s voice makes you tilt your head, watching him walk back into the living room. He leans over, wiping your stomach with the small rag in his hand, your lips tugging into a smile as you reach forward, touching his face. He peers down at you, smiling back as he helps you sit up, his fingers pushing your hair behind your shoulders.

“You want a shower?”

He asks softly as he sits beside you and wraps his arm around you as you lean your head against his shoulder.

“I just want to be with you.”

You mumble, your eyes closing as you wrap your arms around his waist.

“I’m not leaving anytime soon; I think you’re stuck with me.”

Leon speaks as he lifts your chin, kissing your forehead softly before he stands up, lifting you over his shoulder, causing a loud squeal to leave your lips as he taps the skin of your thighs with a smile.

“Let’s shower. Then you can show me more drawings, yeah?”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

This. Plz. I need it. It screams PTSD and comfort piece

Bro??????? I didn't expect to see you in my inbox ghsggsg I love your blog <3

I had this in my drafts for almost a year but I FINALLY got motivated to finish it. So woe Springtrap angst/comfort be upon ye

........

By day, you worked at Fazbear's Fright as its "security guard" actor, making sure everybody got to experience the attraction safely and soundly.

It was far from the dream job you've been hoping for.

The pay sucked, small children were dragged through screaming and crying their little heads off, and some teenagers even made tasteless jokes about the tragedies that happened over 30 years ago.

It wasn't any better at night, as you were legitimately a guard who had to ensure nobody broke in and stole anything, all while working in hazardous conditions with only a slight pay raise as compensation.

You were all for "authenticity", but sometimes you considered filing a complaint with the health department....and then you remembered that this was the only job that was willing to hire you on the spot.

Bills didn't pay themselves, of course.

Like it or not, you had to work here.

However, it wasn't all that boring at night...and you actually preferred being here with nobody else around.

And no, not because your only worries are some faulty cameras, shitty ventilation, creepy phantoms of past animatronics invading your mind, and the possibility of a fire breaking out...

But because of something that your "dudebro" of a manager mentioned during your second nightshift.

"We found a real one. A live one."

Ever since then, you've seen him stalking the premises a few times.

It was Bonnie, but at the same time not Bonnie.

There was a person inside that animatronic, wearing it as a suit. And he seemed to be trapped within it, likely for years and left to decay as his bones, flesh, and even some vital organs were exposed by all the rips and tears.

At first you thought it was a cool little Halloween concept, convinced that 99% of the attraction's budget went into making such realistic gory details for a costume that showed the real-life consequences of the fabled "springlock failure".

You even jokingly told the actor inside he can come out and take a break as you were the only one here, promising you won't rat him out..

But you quickly realized he wasn't acting.

All he did was stare at the cameras and through the window. And as you observed him, you can tell he was limping, hearing his jagged breaths and pained moans echoing through the halls. Like a wounded animal begging to be put down.

The few times he did speak to you....it sounded like something was strangling him, crushing his vocal cords, making him choke out his words as though he had been chain smoking for the past 30 years.

But it wasn't any drug he was on.

He was literally a dead man walking.

You had doubts he was even a man anymore.

By all accounts, he shouldn't be alive..but he was.

Something in that suit was keeping him on life support, and it wasn't batteries or servos or electricity, but something entirely paranormal.

You felt bad for the poor guy, whoever he was. Nobody deserved this kind of torturous fate...except maybe criminal scum.

The only thing you did know was that somebody used that Springbonnie suit to commit those infamous murders back in the early 80s.

The victims were children.

Literal children who died in the place where they should have felt nothing but joy and safety.

You didn't wanna believe it could be....him.

It couldn't be, right?

He was probably just a random hapless employee who got into a tragic accident with the suit, unable to move or cry out for help. Nobody likely knew he was still inside when they sealed the walls.

No way could he be that evil man.

So when you didn't see him at all tonight, that's when you became concerned and decided to seek him out. Hopefully he didn't collapse somewhere unreachable.

You weren't sure what compelled you to look for him, but....you'd hate to sit in the office all night and deal with more ghosts.

Eventually, you did find him in one of the furthest rooms, clearly writhing and tormented by something unseen to you.

Maybe those phantoms haunted him, too?

It would definitely make you feel less alone and less crazy.

You stood near one of the arcade machines, cautious as you weren't sure what to say to him.

"Are you okay" sounded stupid, as this man was literally rotting inside a tomb he could not escape from. So he was very much not okay and would never be okay.

Not as long as he was in that suit, which has apparently become infused with his flesh.

Before you could think of anything to console him or even indicate your presence...his gray optics flickered to meet your human eyes, eyelids lowering as though he was trying to mimic squinting.

"M.....Michael...?" He rasped.

Your heart leapt into your throat, feeling it pounding as you wondered if he was expecting somebody else.

But he's seen you before, hasn't he?

It's always been you here.

"It's me, the guard you've been seeing a lot.." You began awkwardly. "This is the first time we've really met each other, and not through a window."

Now the man-animatronic seemed less tense, as though disappointed. "You should...stay away. This suit..still has its kinks...ahhhghh.." He groaned in pain, his fingers curling into his fists, every breath crushing his lungs more than the last. "Hurts...so bad....."

"What does?" Kneeling down, you still minded your distance but now your concern for him only grew further.

"Everything...like...it's....happening all over again. But why...? I'm dead....unless..I-I'm not..."

By this point, he seemed to be muttering to himself, unsure of whether the pain he was feeling was even real. Given what little of his human body you could see, it's incredible he could feel anything and still have thoughts. He shouldn't be able to even speak, and if so...it should only be through those broken prerecorded voicelines given to every animatronic way back then.

But no. He himself was talking--the man who somehow still had active nerves that could feel pain.

You felt bad for him. Life in prison or death penalty would've been more merciful than this hell he went through.

You felt like there was something you could do.

It might be the most insane idea, but you were willing to take your chances if it meant distracting him from the pain even a little bit.

"May I..help you feel something different?"

"..what..? What are you...." The rabbit-man seemed bewildered as you placed your smaller hands into his now open felt green palms, interlocking fingers without any hesitation on your part.

Despite your nose being clogged up with the stench of death, and your stomach churning in kind..you refused to let him go. "What do you feel now?"

"....only my greatest pain..like I was back in that saferoom..." He coughed, his longer ear folding over one eye. "Sometimes...I think....I can just take this off...before it happens again..and again....and again. But....I can't. Why did I do that? Was I scared? Why did it fail me then? Did I deserve it for...for....."

Then he fell silent, his head drooping, and for a moment or two you were worried he somehow shutdown or actually died this time.

But just as you were about to pull your hands free, he suddenly sprung back to life, a ragged gasp escaping him as his fingers curled around yours. It was tight, making you wince a bit, although it was worth seeing the look in his robotic eyes..

Which showed less anguish than before.

"I feel...you." He muttered, almost astonished as he looked down at your hands. "Your flesh. Something I haven't felt in years. Warm, small..easy to crush-"

Before he could say anything further, he felt like he was choking again, the small steel beams and screws piercing his lungs...suffering until he slowly died in a pool of his own blood.

Every now and then, that sensation came back again.

But this time, he felt something different.

Something old, yet new.

Something foreign, yet familiar.

it didn't hurt.

You tried not to look at the piece of his lung that was visible and somehow still functioning, inflating and deflating with every unsteady breath. Instead you kept looking into his eyes, assuring him you're here and you're real.

"It's okay. Keep holding onto me if it helps. I....don't think I ever caught your name," you muttered. "I doubt you wanna be called Springbonnie."

"I've...become more like a Springtrap, " he remarked with a low chuckle. "But....my name...it's...."

"It's what?"

".....what is my name? It's become...lost to me..."

"Oh. Well, I hope it comes back to you soon."

"Hm...perhaps..it will....thank you."

"Of course." You offered him a sympathetic smile.

Maybe this job didn't completely suck after all.

You got to make a friend and help that friend.

[octuscle]

Hey bro, whats up? My frat is pretty well known for some of the stuff we put our pledges through. This year we were thinking of using the chronivac to liven things up a bit. Got four eager pledges and we wanted to see if you had any presets or ideas for each of em. Was thinkin' of turning each of em into a different frat bro stereotype, but wanted to get your thoughts on it. Thanks man!

This year you guys need to recruit some of the smart lads. Your academic performance has been so poor the last few semesters that many of your alumni have threatened to cut your allowances. The nerds who applied all have IQs beyond 140, but if they moved into the frat house, they'd have to wear a paper bag on their head all day, they're that ugly. Let's see what we can do with Chronivac.

Richard is the first. The questionnaire is filled out in handwriting, as if a little girl had applied. He has entered a dash for daily hours in the gym. You take over in the Chronivac times "two". The favorite place is the library. You change that to "Halfpipe". And he has entered a visit to the Vatican Library as his dream vacation. You change this to Nazaré.

Quite a good start… Entrance exam passed. Ryder high-fives you and gets in the car to get his stuff. You are especially looking forward to his supply of first class weed.

Michael comes next. Fuck, he knits his own sweaters. And the dungarees look like they came from a department store. He also entered a dash at the gym classes. You take one. Favorite place is the big oak tree on campus. What a nerd! You'll change that to the men's department at Saks Fifth Avenue. And favorite vacation spot is no longer the Oregon woods. It's Florence for men's fashion week.

You welcome Miles to your home. And give him the room in the frat house with the biggest closet.

After all, Frederick actually put down "one" in the daily gym classes. But the results of that one hour are well hidden under thick layers of fat. He needs at least two hours so you don't have to be ashamed of him. His favorite place until a few seconds ago was the pastry shop on the main street. How pathetic! You make it the swimming pool on campus in your file. And you turn a chocolatier class in Bruges as a favorite vacation into participation in the World Aquatics Open Water Swimming World Cup.

Finn is not the emotional type. But you're sure he was happy to be accepted into the frat. Even if the movement of the corner of his mouth was barely visible.

Christian is by far the most intelligent of your pledges. Normally, you would chase him off the fraternity house grounds with water pistols. He tells you that he only applied because his father wanted him to. He thinks you are a miserable bunch of losers. He seriously filled in the questionnaire with hieroglyphics. The devil knows what he wanted to tell you. He sits across from you with his arms crossed in his stuffy clothes and doesn't say a word. Well, then, you just nurse Chronivac for the last new addition to the fraternity. Four hours in the gym, favorite place is his parents' hunting lodge on July 04, and his favorite vacation is Spring Break in South Beach.

Chase is a hot candidate for fraternity newcomer speaker. A real smart cookie. But most importantly, a fraternity brother with a passion!

Bruhs, I hope you are happy with the new guys. I think they will all be an asset to your fraternity.

The pictures of the improved pledges I found at @stargazerguy, @richmuscly, @swimgod81-blog and @maxx-magnum

[seeds-and-sins]

Light My Fire - Part Six

Pairing: Ben "Soldier Boy" x F!Reader

Rating: M (Crude Language, Curse Words, Sexism, descriptions of explicit sexual content)

Description: The Deep and Phoenix are sent to investigate a certain set of twins.

Tagged: @tonixe @chernayawidow, @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites, @ophennie @virgoelf-blog, @my-obsession-spn

Part Five

Sure. Soldier Boy understood you, but that didn't mean he really wanted you. It didn't mean that he would have chosen you over all else. He didn't care about you. When you think back on it, on the memories once lost in your head, now found, you were vulnerable. You allowed him into your heart when you shouldn't have. You knew better than to do that.

And Ben stuck. Ben attached himself to you like glue and you allowed it. Why would you allow that? Ben treated you so poorly back then, why would you allow him to get to you? A few words of sentiment, the exchange of an unsaid promise that was empty and forgotten. You had lived far too long to fall prey to such stupid sweet nothings. When Ben propped his chin on your head, when he wrapped his arms around you and told you that you were safe, you fell for it. How could you?

For years you tried to figure out what happened to him, and when you did Vought fucked you up worse than you already were. Why go through that for someone who didn't even care? Someone who would never choose you?

So, you chose John.

"You're not going to um..." Your droopy gaze shifted in the Deep's direction and the man's words crumbled with his composure. The Deep became a stuttering mess, eyes wide, a hard frown on his lips.

"What?" You breathed, swishing the glass of bronze liquid in your hand before bringing it to your lips for another sip. "Spontaneously burst into flames?"

"Um..." He cleared his throat. "Yeah."

"No. I'm not gonna' do that." Your eyes returned to the massive screen in front of you. The pixelated words had blended together, camera footage and images of Soldier Boy flooded the screen.

"Just making sure..." The Deep began, his adam's apple bobbed as he gulped. "You've been sitting here for a little bit, drinking."

"I can't get drunk so, it doesn't matter anyways."

"Yeah but, doesn't alcohol like-make you worse-I mean-"

"Shut up." You stated firmly, in a dead tone. You hadn't had many interactions with the Deep since you had arrived back at the tower all those months ago. What you did know was that you hated him. You didn't need to know much about him to know that he was a piece of shit. The news and tabloids agreed, but even more so, the way he weaseled a spot back into the Seven made you sick to your stomach. You thought Swatto was bad all those years ago. The Deep was worse. At least Swatto owned up to the horrible accusations, the Deep tried to pretend like nothing happened. Coward. "Can you look something up for me?" It wasn't much of a question as it was a demand. The Deep knew as much when he cast a side glance in your direction.

You kicked your feet up onto the desk, still dressed in your hero suit. You tucked the glass of whiskey in your lap and crossed your ankles.

"Sure-uh-what exactly?"

"Look up me." You stared intently at the screen, not flinching once at the expression on the Deep's face.

"Are you-"

"Look me up now." And the vigorous tapping of keys sounded through a devastating silence. Images of you popped up, old and new, as well as a few files and a short synapsis of information. "Hmm..." You sipped from the glass, calm and collected. "That's my name." You pondered, the Deep squinted at you.

"You didn't know your name?"

"I forgot my name. Last person to call me by it wants me dead." You shrugged, the tip of your finger tracing the lip of your glass. "I want to know something specific." Your voice was distant, you felt like you were hovering above your body looking in.

"O-kayy~"

"Pull up my file for the year 1994."

"1994?" The Deep muttered in confusion, a few moments passed in quiet as he scrolled across the search and clicked through files. He paused with a frown. "It's classified."

"Classified?" You spat, abruptly jerking up from your seat and slamming the glass down onto the desk. The Deep flinched, he held his hands up from the keyboard.

"Look, man, I don't know. It's just classified." You stood fully and crossed your arms, eyes skimming the screen, everything was blacked out.

"Open it then."

"That's not how it works. Some of this stuff needs security clea-"

"You're in charge of fuckin' security! Do it!" You fumed and the waves of heat rolling off of you were enough to send the Deep in motion. He was shaking as he tried to find a way into your information. The Deep wasn't suited for this job, but Homelander was convinced that the Deep was a useful pawn in his quest to takeover Vought. Just then, the Deep accidentally clicked a distant file and a video popped up on the screen. "Stop!" You leaned in. It was Vogelbaum, he was wearing a mask, speaking into a camera, sitting at a desk, your unconscious body was resting on an examination table in the background.

"Day Three. It is approximately eight in the morning, eastern time, on September 23rd, 1994." The quality of the footage was old. Voegelbaum was younger then. The mask muffled his voice, but you knew what he was saying. "After repeated attempts, I have concluded it to be impossible to harvest any cellular matter from Subject 665's body. Her skin is impenetrable to the extent that even the scraping of simple tissue matter is impossible. It is fascinating how the carbon monoxide weakens her thermodynamic abilities, but retains the sturdiness of her cellular structure as a result of those abilities. Attempts at transvaginal ultrasound aspiration have failed, but I have been in the process of creating a concoction that might be capable of targeting the cells in her body, making it easier to harvest the egg follicles residing in her ovaries." You cupped a handle over your mouth, tears peeking at the corners of your eyes. What did that mean? The pills?! You had been taking them for years, only having recently stopped. What did that mean?! "We will keep Subject 665 in containment for a little longer, given that Mindstorm's treatments toward her mental state continue to work."

The video ended.

"More!" You hissed at the Deep and he aggressively began typing away, when another video popped up:

You were sitting at a white table, all too familiar to you. You were dressed in a tank top and baggy sweatpants. Your hair was disheveled and your eyes were sunken and the light inside you was fading bit by bit.

"Phoenix," It was Vogelbaum, sitting somewhere outside of the camera's view, your neck craned back and you chewed anxiously at your bottom lip. "Do you recall where we started off last? Or would you like me to refresh your memory?"

"What do you want?" You whispered, your voice was shaky and you sounded like you were on the verge of tears.

"Tell me what first made you suspicious of Soldier Boy's death." You crossed your arms, eyes frantically looking around the room.

"It-It didn't seem right. Everyone was too normal."

"Your peers didn't seem to like him, so you can't blame them-"

"No. It just wasn't right." You blurted out, jabbing a finger at your chest. "I knew! I knew it wasn't right!"

"Okay, okay, calm down." Vogelbaum urged, you saw his hand enter the frame of the camera from across the table, but he didn't dare touch you and risk burning himself. "And what did you do after that?"

"I went to Nicaragua." You said, releasing a shaky breath.

"And what did you do there?"

"I-I-" Your looked away, hands now rested in your lap, twiddling your thumbs. "I needed to find out what happened."

"Of course," Vogelbaum chirped, "I expect no less."

"The locals didn't want to answer my questions." You lowered your head, Vogelbaum pressed further.

"And what did you do?"

"I killed some people."

"Some?"

"Okay..." You sighed, then timidly admitted, "I killed a lot of people."

"Is there a reason why Soldier Boy's death affected you so?"

"If he could die..." Your breath hitched, "Maybe I could too."

"Interesting." Homelander piped in from his place behind you. You had assumed he had been standing there for a while because he wasn't looking at you the same. You were like a damaged animal and he was your abusive keeper. "I'm sending the Deep and you to go check on the twins." The video continued running in the background, but John didn't seem to care about the images and sounds circulating from the screen.

"Why me?" You snapped, John blinked down at you with cold, steely eyes.

"You think the Deep can fight Soldier Boy head on?"

The answer to that was 'no', everyone knew that.

"I know he can't, but I would rather just leave him to die."

"Wow, that was heartfelt." The Deep blurted out, immediately regretting his sarcastic remark with a hand slapped over his lips.

"Phoenix." John sighed, placing a firm hand on your shoulder, a warning. "I need your help on this. We know Soldier Boy's next marks. This is our chance to get a jump on him."

"If he's half the man he was when I was working with him, we'll never get the jump on him." To anyone else, John was Homelander. To you, John was a boy. He had the same look of fear in his eyes now that he had the first time you introduced him to a crowd. It was overwhelming. You didn't blame John for being scared, but there was something else. There was always something else.

...

You dropped Deep onto the concrete pavement of a lengthy driveway. You were about twelve feet up, he hit the ground with a hard thud and plopped onto his side.

"Fuck!" He hissed, "Was that necessary?!" Phoenix ignored him as she lowered herself, clasping her hands behind her back as she considered the mansion in front of them. Oh, how she wanted to run through it like a knife to butter. These TNT twins lived in luxury after what they had done to Soldier Boy, after what they had done to you, and you would take that away from them first before taking away their lives.

"Come on, sea slug. We got business to take care of." The Deep trotted up to your side, albeit wincing and rubbing at his arm.

"What did I do to you?! Hmm?" He had somehow gained the courage to confront you, when now wasn't really a good time. "I've been good to you."

"You sexually assaulted and raped dozens of woman, and you want to know why I don't like you? That's funny." You said in a dead and even tone that must have sent chills down the Deep's spine because he stopped walking. You approached the mahogany doors, glaring at them, feeling the fire burning in your blood. "You're going to have to do the talking."

"What? Why? Weren't these guys on your team all those years ago?"

"I want to kill them." The Deep gulped, nervously stuttering out nothing before nodding his head and bringing a fist to the door.

"Yeah, I'll do the talking." As you were waiting for the door to open, you couldn't help but get the feeling that you were being watched. The mansion was surrounded by a large plot of land, a sparse tree line bordering it. It could have been nothing, but then also it could have been something. Even with pretty much every part of yourself being 'superhuman', you never had the ability to hear someone's heart beat or see through solid objects. The most you could do in that regard was focus really hard and you might be able to detect nearby heat sources. And that was if you focused really hard. But what you did have was a sixth sense. Your old team used to comment on it all the time. You always had a feeling that something was going to happen before it did. You could always feel when something was off, not right. It was how you knew that Soldier Boy never really died in Nicaragua, it was how you found John in that lab all those years ago, and now, it was how you knew that something was about to happen. Something big.

What if Soldier Boy was here? What if that was why Tommy and Tessa weren't answering the door? Maybe Soldier Boy had already killed them? Your anxiety spiked. You weren't ready. You thought you were, but you weren't. You were anything but ready. What if he was the one that answered the door? What would you do?

You weren't the same person. Neither of you were the same person. He wanted you dead.

"Jesus Christ. Knock again." You crossed your arms, cape swaying behind you, your eyes frantically tracing the tree line once more. The Deep knocked, hitting the door a little harder this time. The door swung open. Music emanated from inside, loud moans and screams of pleasure and booming conversations and-

No. Fuck no. It couldn't be...

They were still doing this shit?

Tommy and Tessa were standing there. Tessa was wearing a leather dominatrix-esque outfit and Tommy was wearing a golden robe and a pair of dirty looking boxer shorts. They both looked aged. Old and worn down. Part of you envied Tessa's wrinkles and Tommy's grey hairs and you wanted that, but it was only a distant thought before you tuned in. They were pleased when they saw the Deep, but the moment their twin eyes landed on you, you could noticeably see the fear blossom in their very souls. Good, you thought, they should be afraid.

"The Deep..." Tommy began, "Captain of the Seven Seas, and..." Tommy choked, eyes wide as he looked you up and down.

"Phoenix." Tessa said cooly, nursing her cigarette. She was as tough looking as she was when you first met her, attempting to put on the persona that made her seem ruthless and brave. But Tessa was terrified, and you knew it better than anybody. You fed off of their fear like a lion did their meat and you were starving for it. "Long time no see."

"Well..." The Deep cleared his throat. "Sorry to drop in like this unannounced."

"Not at all, um-" Tommy froze up again at the sight of your unflinching stare, honed in on him. "We were having a bit of a celebration." He chuckled nervously, clapping his hands together. "You guys are welcome to come on in." Before the Deep could speak, Phoenix piped in:

"You know who started Herogasm?" Tommy glanced at Tessa, they sent each other uneasy looks. "Soldier Boy. You remember him, right?" This smile crept up onto your face, plastered on, hard and sharp.

"Yeah." Tessa snorted, shrugging. "Figured we'd keep the tradition alive. Why not?"

"Hmm." You sighed, stepping forward and scooping Tessa and Tommy in your arms and into a tight hug. Your head was between theirs, they stood stiff like wooden boards. Neither of them were strong enough to protest. "So good to see you guys again." You leaned back, a hand on either of their shoulders and you held them in place, looking between them with that same smile. "I just wanted to let you guys know that I know." Tessa squinted at you, she had dropped her cigarette in fear when you looped them into your death hug.

"I'm sorry?" She whispered with a wince. Tommy chewed his bottom lip.

"K-K-Know what?"

"Everything." Your whispered back as your grin widened. You didn't have to have super hearing to know that Tommy's heart skipped.

Return to Masterlist

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 17/05/2024

Athletic Doctor

Season 1 Featured on: GilvaSunner's Highest Quality Video Game Rips: Volume 1 Also on: SiIvaGunner: Starter Kit & Essentials

Ripped by Psynwav

ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY SPECIAL!!

I haven't slept in so long...I forgot what dreams were like.

Honestly - what better way could there be for me to celebrate the 365th main post on the blog, than to be fashionably late by a whole weekend? It's unfortunate, but...oddly befitting, really. Back when I was first starting out with the blog, I actually forgot about posting daily for a solid two weeks - and so, some old-ass posts like Chillin’ Like A Villain and (YTPMV) Bob​-​Omb Battlesources were made in quite a hurry retroactively. Nevertheless, it was on May 17th 2023, over on my main blog @melblur, that I suddenly decided that I wanted to write about one SiIvaGunner rip a day just for fun. After File Select Fusion Collab, I realized that it made more sense just to put these on their own blog, and with Snowball Park - Super Mario 3D World I moved everything onto here. It's all been a bit of a bumpy ride, is my point. But today, I've reached the big milestone that I was originally aiming for all the way back with Running Through Cookie Country - a year's worth of almost-always-daily posts on the weird and wonderful world of SiIvaGunner. And what better rip to discuss alongside this milestone than the channel's biggest hit, the milestone rip to stand above all others: Season 1's Athletic Doctor.

Now, I've been following SiIvaGunner since some of the earliest moments of Season 1, following along with the initial GiIvaSunner termination, the entire Reboot saga discussed in I Saw a Brainwasher Today, the Mashup Crusaders arc of Mr. Rental [B Side] ~ Out of Options, the channel ending of Epic Flintstones... Basically, I was there for just about the entire initial 9-month run, and have with but one Season's worth of an exception (Season 5) been following the channel damn near obsessively since. The point is that, through this, I have been able to follow the channel's most popular videos chart up and down with each passing month: I recall, for instance, how Nintendo GameCube Startup - Console/BIOS Music soared past all other rips back in the day and stayed on top for five month's time. That was, of course, before finally being surpassed by we are number one but with outdated memes over it and subsequently helping kickstart the entire We Are Number One meme trend (funny enough - you can actually find a youtube comment left by me on the rip in late December 2016/early 2017 expressing mild annoyance over the rip's popularity...). Athletic Doctor in comparison was of course always popular, but it took a while to truly climb its way up there - it was in the top ten, then top five, always rising, bubbling in the background. Eventually, starting with Season 3's premiere, the team decided to just make the rip the trailer for the channel for new viewers - where it still sits today, now as the far-and-away most popular rip on the channel.

I feel like the reason the rip became used as the defacto channel trailer, the reason it keeps being referenced in videos demonstrating what SiIvaGunner is all about, is pretty obvious. I've talked a lot in posts like Live and Ooooooooooooooh about how outright *effective* many of Season 1's rips were, and Athletic Doctor is the most prime example of that imaginable - it is a damn near pitch perfect joke executed shockingly well for the time of its upload in the channel's history. EVERYONE knows the music to Super Mario World, either through its usage in the game itself in the 90s, its appearances in games like Super Smash Bros. Melee in the 2000s and Super Mario Galaxy 2 in the 2010s - or just through sheer overexposure to it in just about any era of gaming YouTube. The game's soundtrack is the perfect blend of being immediately recognizable and incredibly easy to hum along to given the entire game basically only has three or so melodies, relying on its central leitmotif to a degree bordering on parody. Likewise as well, EVERYBODY knows Witch Doctor, either through excessive radio play, being a big hit with Alvin & the Chipmunks...or the 2007 Live Action Alvin & the Chipmunks movie that I myself grew up with, it's the kind of vaguely obnoxious (also arguably quite racist) nonsense novelty music that's incredibly appealing to young kids, the same way something like Crazy Frog or its ilk was in the 2000s as well.

Put simply, Athletic Doctor was a match made in heaven - and the joke is pulled off so expertly that it feels redundant to put into words. The Athletic Theme intro is iconic enough to where you're led into a false sense of security right off the bat, the melody swap is subtle enough as to not immediately be noticeable, making the moment you notice it even more noteworthy - only for the track's second loop to become a full-on mashup with the Witch Doctor track. Absolutely perfect escalation, just the right amount of buildup - but most importantly, it ends up actually sounding really good! The joke's great to be sure, very much like Live and Ooooooooooooooh - but I feel like the core reason why Athletic Doctor has continued to endure for so long on the channel, why it keeps getting remixed and referenced and paid tribute to on so many instances, is because it's just a genuinely good listen once the joke sets in. In other words, it is the purest distillation of SiIvaGunner's appeal - a joke so simple, yet pulled off with a magical appeal that remains even all these years later.

Through running this blog, it's that very specific appeal that I've wanted to try and encapsulate with the rips I cover, with what I write about them, to uncover that elusive magic of this dumb shitpost channel. Joel's big Grand Dad reaction that kicked the channel off is a good bit, to be sure, but its not a bit that could've lasted eight years and counting: In its earliest days, its easy to see how the channel could've just become naught but a novelty and fallen off the face off the earth once interest in it died. Yet through each year of the channel's life, with every Season that passes, it's evolved and adapted. Be it the spontaneous chaos of Season 1, the building storyline of Season 2, the mystery and nostalgia of Season 3, the sheer talent on display in the King for Another Day Tournament in Season 4 Episode 1 and the sheer joy of celebration found in Season 4 Episode 2, the whimsical experimentation of Season 5, the sudden introspection and moodiness of Season 6, the pure adoration and love for everything the channel stands for in Season 7, and the ongoing pure silliness of Season 8 - each period of this channel feels as if it's growing in a new direction, never content sitting in one place for too long - and yet the appeal of a rip like Athletic Doctor remains oh so core to the entire SiIvaGunner experience. The experience of which I've made my best effort to cover across all 365 posts on this blog. To show everyone the layers in which this channel goes in.

That's what I've been wanting to show you... but now, before I end this post, I want to briefly talk about what you've shown *me*. I know its a cliché thing to say, but really - it warms my heart EVERY time I receive messages about the blog. This all began as just a way for me to practice my writing ability, but suddenly I was having the actual rippers - the names that I'd admire from my MP3 player but hardly ever considered able to actually interact with - messaging me in private to express how happy my posts made them...not to mention the people in SiIvaCord discussing rips with me, digging into my writing, sharing anecdotes I'd never heard of, and everyone who requested rips genuinely eager to see what I had to write about them...like, again, its the biggest cliché on the planet, and I know this blog really isn't all *that* big in the grand scheme of things - but I never expected to even get more than five people actually engaging with what I post? To everyone, and ESPECIALLY to the silent majority reading my posts without a Tumblr account, the ones engaging from a distance - thank you SO much for validating all that I've done on here.

Now, there's still plenty of posts I have left in me, plenty of ones already in the drafts and unfulfilled requests well in the dozens. But like...tons has happened since when this all started 12 months ago. I got a summer job! I'm wrapping up what's hopefully my final three school courses! I've started listening to so much new music, expanding my music tastes, in huge part thanks to all the digging this blog has made me do! And, of course, getting to be this open about what's likely my absolute weirdest special interest has honestly made me feel more confident in myself as a person, made me a more outgoing individual in general. And so, to get all of my ducks in a row, to help straighten things out for a bit...I'm going to take a break from regular posting on here. I'm aiming for it to be no longer than a month's time - again, I have much I still wish to write about!! - but you'll of course still see me reblogging fanart and other such things on here just from using Tumblr casually. And hey - if you haven't already, I recommend you take the time to go scavenging through The Archive for daily posts that you might have missed! Having a blog with so much writing on it, so many posts, so much to discover for readers old and new...In a way, I've basically made it so that navigating the blog feels just like navigating the vast seas of the SiIvaGunner channel itself. And isn't that just the most fitting way to leave it all on - an ocean of posts, waiting for you to uncover them?

THAT SIIVAGUNNER TUMBLR BLOG WILL RETURN IN SEASON 2

[rearranged-fanfic]

(Update 6/3)

Sit down a spell, weary traveler. Come and sit by my fire; bask in the warmth of the flame and rest your aching scrolling finger. You'll be sitting a while, for I have a tale to tell:

Okay, so I've had a Toshiba laptop for the better part of ten years. Maybe a little longer. That laptop has survived being struck by lightning, submerged in a bathtub, and literally having a whole bookcase topple down onto it. I thought it was immortal...

I was sadly mistaken.

About six months ago, I noticed that the typing was getting sluggish. I'd patter away at the keyboard and the letters would appear with a bit of lag. That's fine, since I use Dragon to talk-to-text for quite a bit of my writing. I really only use the keyboard for final assembly, editing, and doing quick rewrites. So, it really didn't bother me. Fastforward to April, which we will call The Great Depression. The time discrepancy between typing and having letters appear on screen became a whopping 40 seconds. Yes, I timed it.

But that was okay, because I could still use my Dragon headset.

Until I couldn't.

It would connect, but the words wouldn't appear on screen. I made sure that all of my programs were up-to-date, and that everything was working. The headset connected to my family's computers just fine. So that meant it was something wrong with mine.

Without being sure if it was the hardware or software at fault, I backed everything up to OneDrive and Google Docs.

I factory reset.

Twice. To no avail.

Over the next few days, my laptop stopped registering any keyboard input at all. It got to a point where I wasn't able to turn it on or off.

Taking it to an electronics store to get repaired didn't help, either. No luck. They said that it would be more cost effective to just buckle down and get a new one, since the age of the laptop meant that I would probably be constantly maintaining it.

My poor Toshiba died kicking and screaming, putting up a fight worthy of an epic ballad.

I saved up for a few weeks, got a new laptop, and went through the rigmarole of getting all of my programs back on it. My files are in order. My life is in shambles (but that's normal, LOL).

I DID do some story work without my computer, but... it's bad. Like, I'd die in shame if I posted anything that I thumbed in. So. Many. Spelling. Errors. How people write on their phone is beyond me. That's a talent I simply don't possess.

At this point, I'm thinking of renaming this story "HIATUS" lol. JK. But I'm seriously peeved that this happened after my last big break. Why couldn't the Depression and laptop breakdown coincide nicely? I guess that's too much to ask of the universe *Shakes fist at the sky*.

I'm creating a damn bingo card for every stupid thing that happens to me while I try to write. Because this is getting ridiculous. I broke my fingers, there was a total solar eclipse, I had a major-ish mental breakdown, and my computer bit the big one. With a free space, that's a bingo. Let's hope I don't get a blackout before the end of 2024.

I doubted the fanfiction curse. I really did. But it's apparently real. And this writer's curse has teeth, people. It bites hard.

I have my MerMay two-shot pretty well done (because I was typing it during The Great Depression), but the next chapter for REARRANGED is still rough. Crimson Chapter 3 is halfway done, but who knows how long that'll take.

The bottom line is that I'm alive and still working on the stories. The next update on this blog will be the posting of several chapters for a few different works. Fingers crossed.

Also, I'm very, very slowly answering the comments in my AO3 inbox. Some of them were pretty lengthy, so it might take a bit. Oof.

If there ever comes a time that I drop this fanfiction or am unable to continue for whatever reason, either I or my husband will be posting the entirety of my outline, as well as anything that's been pre-written for you guys to enjoy. That way there are no questions left unanswered or mysteries unsolved.

[jacks-little-jacky]

Heyheyhey!! Anon here again! Do you mind writing a scenario in which Jack’s crush absolutely adores adopting children (I’m not talking about one or two, I’m talking about an ’army’ of them, like, 6/7) ?

Like, those kids are incredibly fond of him to the point that in the future they accidentally call him ’dad’? (maybe you can end it with some smut, with Jack offering them another sibling 👀) (IM SO SORRY, THIS HAS BEEN ON MY MIND FOR SO LONG AND I’VE BEEN MEANING TO ASK FOR A LONG TIME, BUT IVE NEVER MET ANOTHER JACK SIMP BEFORE— I HOPE I CAN REQUEST AGAIN SOON, I ADORE YOUR WRITING!!❤️❤️❤️)

The Littlest Army | Jack x Reader

Okay so I ADORE Dilf! Jack. Sorry that this took so long but I'm getting back into this blog and I hope the quality is to your taste. Bon appetit.

Warnings: inappropriate use of children (Jack throws them), NSFW Under The Cut! Everything above is pretty SFW, breeding kink/unprotected yee-hawing, mention of pregnancy, I tried something new so idk

Jack has never seen this coming.

Never, in all of his 28 years of living has he seen himself as a father figure. Sure, leading a Squad that accepted 15-year-olds sometimes made him somewhat of a caregiver. More or less.

He didn't see himself as the domestic type. He could handle the young recruits, they were his subordinates after all. Of course, they were teenagers, but there still was this distance. Professionalism, as little as Jack would bring it with him at least.

Jack wasn't one to settle down, have children and drink tea in his little cottage by a lake. No, that wasn't him. Or so he thought.

Until he met you.

A pretty thing, how couldn't he notice you? Always smiling, waving at the Magic Knight with the two little bundles next to her knees.

He never meant for this to happen.

But the preparations for the Royal Knights Exam came up and everbody was oh so busy. So busy that the Captains would come from their high horses and take over the boring patrols and mediocore missions so their knights would have further time to train.

And Jack always was a working bee, anything that was preventing him from sitting hours in his office going through reports and filing documents about broken equipment and whatnot was good to him.

Really, with the way he was patrolling almost each day the cities around his base location he shouldn't be suprised he picked up on people there. He wasn't unobservant, he just didn't care most of the time.

But after almost two weeks he knew the names of the baker and the lady who spilled coffee in a rush on him. He knew the names of some children he saw running around, learning them from their mothers yelling after them. The names of some of the nuns taking care of the orphans too.

And of course, you. Sweet, temptating, captivating you.

Always running around, helping the nuns. Always running around, bumping into him. Always running around, never leaving his mind.

It was unfair. A sick kind of joke the universe played on him. But how was he supposed to resist? Resist you and your kind smile, your little giggle, and the way you'd bat your eyelashes at him. The way you silently pleaded for him to take the cookies the kids made for him.

And he did, lowering on his knees slowly while staring into your eyes. His golden eyes only leaving your captivating eyes when his knees hit the ground and he redirected his gaze to the actual kids around him.

They were loud, tugging at his robe and shoving the cookies almost into his face. He cracked a little smile, before giving in and laughing. Ruffling their hair and taking cookies, biting a chunk off and praising how good they were.

Asking if they had any help. Which of course, he knew they had. His eyes darted to you when they started laughing, telling him about how you helped with the baking but they did all the decorating themselves! Such proud little bundles of joy, cheering your name.

It made something in his stomach churn.

The way your proud eyes sparkled, the way your plump lips spread into this stupid smile that had his heart aching. How you watched over them, even with him near.

At first, he didn't think he'd ever have a chance. With how much you helped the orphanage, Jack's working theory had been that you were in training maybe. Although you didn't wear the robes, the way you'd almost always be there when he passed on his patrol and the way the children often referred to you as a big sister or mother figure was evidence for itself.

He often wondered, about the two bundles that would always be around you. If those children were just especially attached to you, or if they even were your own in a way.

And of course, you two got talking. After all the kids were amazed to not only see a Magic Knight but a Captain regularly patroling their place! And you were just making sure, that he wasn't a danger to them, or that they didn't bother him too much.

Just making sure. Definitely not being interested in the tall commoner yourself. No, that would be ridiculous.

It didn't take long for Jack to figure out that you were not really one of the sisters who worked at the orphanage. But your two adoptive kids were close friends with some of the kids there. So they'd get to see their friends and hang out and you did your part in the community. You just liked kids, helping them and being around them.

Something Jack, oddly enough, has come to appreciate more and more with every visit he paid you guys.

He soon found out that you didn't only have two kids, but four. A ridiculous amount if you ask him, not that you do but he tells you that anyway.

Oddly enough, with his attitude, you would've thought he'd start backing off. The subtle flirtatious, the little touches that lingered a bit too long. A single mother wasn't held in the highest regard in the Clover Kingdom. You didn't care, of course, you chose to take in these kids and were planning for more.

But Jack did not back off. In fact, he slowly started seeing why you liked these brats so much. Even if it was just because they never failed to make you smile in a way that nothing else could at first. Still, he worked himself up with these children. From the little awkward encounters at first, he worked his relationship with these kids up to ruffling their hair and occasionally carrying them, throwing them up, and catching them. You had to reprimand him multiple times that it was dangerous. What if a little one slipped from his hands and got hurt?

It didn't stop it though, even if he wanted to listen he couldn't with the way he got begged by some of these brats. The little ones loved sitting on the shoulders of the tall man, he just... wasn't refusing it. And of course, you did not miss the way his eyes hushed to catch yours each time, silently seeking approval.

Neither of you could really grasp it.

Jack felt a pull towards you and he couldn't resist it. And although you denied it, you could feel it too. The way your eyes would meet although you weren't even talking with each other, the way you'd know when he'd come by each day. How he'd make the kids laugh and amaze them, acting, unlike his brash and brutal reputation with the little ones in your care. The way his tongue would brush against his lips whenever he heard your little laugh.

You were irresistible to him. And so was he. It was like there was an invisible string connecting you two. It wasn't visible, hell it wasn't reasonable, but there was this clear pull toward each other and you could only try to resist for so long.

So long. Until it snapped.

Lips crashed into yours, you weren't even sure how or why it was happening but you found yourself in the arms of one of the most powerful men of the Clover kingdom.

The children's laughs and yells from playing some game faded into the background as your fingers dug into the fabric of his robe. His big hand was caressing your cheek and fingers tangling into your hair. A gasp crawled out your throat at the sensation of his teeth nibbing onto your lower lip.

It was warm. So warm.

Your breath was heavy after your lips separated, feeling like he had just kissed the air right out of you. A smile spread onto his lips, that wide, proud smile that just promised trouble.

"I figured...", his raspy voice spoke up. His face was still so very close to yours that you could feel his warm breath hitting your lips. "What?", you asked. The smile creeping on your face couldn't be more obvious. "Figured you might... need... some help with your kids?" Jack suggested in a hushed voice.

"I'm quite alright with them.", you stated amused. Jack's teeth bit down onto his lower lip ever so slightly, a gesture you probably would've missed if not for the close proximity. "But... I might need help when I get the next ones....", You whispered.

Jack's eyes visibly lightened up, the golden pool of honey gazing down at you. "Even more?" He asked, voice quiet with disbelief. "Of course. I still have plently room in my heart. And at home. I want a big family, so beware...", you whispered.

Your heart was pleading he'd be fine with it. Knowing his reputation, he probably wouldn't be. But Jack had surprised you more than once already and you'd hope he would do it again now too. You wanted him, but you still had your priorities. Your family, and the wish to extend it was more important than a little crush.

Even if it didn't feel like just a little crush.

You could hear the tall man gulp quietly before placing his lips upon you again, the kiss was shorter, softer. Your lips responded softly to his, mind easing a little that he wasn't running.

"I might have to start numbering them if you get any more..." Jack joked quietly against your lips and it actually made you laugh. He wasn't against it, he just found the amount of children one woman would adopt ridiculous. Like everybody else, just that he was offering to try it. With you. All of you, even the family.

Jack was a ridiculously good partner. The reputation he had was nothing like how you knew him. Yes, he was a little crazy, a brute but he also was the best guy you've dated.

He cared for the kids, to the point the name "Dad" slipped more than once before it really was official. When it was, your children were almost happier than you. They liked the captain, loved how he'd take them on little trips whenever you needed a pause. Or the way he made their mother laugh so cheerfully at his jokes, although they didn't always understand them. They will, when they're older, you tell them.

After you and Jack became official you adopted two more children and they were the first ones to meet Jack as their Dad, not as the awkward man stumbling out of their home half-dressed some mornings. He was a bit scared at first, own children, adopting them with you and being their legal guardian from day one felt... odd.

He never saw himself there. He thought it just was not for him. Until you.

Jack even suggested tying the knot before you, if you'd like that. He loved your kids like they were his own. Hell, they were his now. And if he rushed away after a meeting just to pick them up from visiting friends or anything he was used to the stares. After all, the magic knight captains weren't exactly unknown.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The children weren't home, it was a rare day that the house was so quiet. Your little bundles of joy were at a birthday party with some of the children which gave you the rarer occasion of relaxing with your boyfriend.

Boyfriend. It still gave you a tingling feeling to think about it. How far you've come with him. It did not feel like you two had been together for that long, but you have.

A while back he was just a stranger doing his patrol and now he was the legal father of two from your six children. And that was only legal, the others still called him Dad. You never had thought this could happen, that you'd end up in bed with Jack the Ripper. Your back pressed against his chest as you cuddled up on the bed, spooning.

His fingertips ghosted over your hips. You couldn't remember a moment in the last weeks when you could just lie down with him and relax without anything interrupting you. As you closed your eyes you decided just to relax and ease into the touch, you deserved it. The gentle touches, the way his hand was brushing over your side and stomach.

His slender fingers traced your figure so delicately but with just enough pressure to spread pleasurable tingles across your body. The way he increased the pressure, kneading your flesh softly before his fingers continued his mindless search, fingernails sending goosebumps all across. It was causing your mouth to let loose the softest moans. His hands were warm and big, and he knew just where you liked to be touched, how you liked to be touched.

One of his hands crept up your stomach, cupping one of your tits and gently kneading there too. The sensation causes you to buck your hips back into his, your ass rubbing against his growing erection. The deep rasp of a low laugh was ringing in your eyes. His lips nipped and kissed at the nape of your neck. His lips turned up into a cocky smile as he heard the little muffled sound spilling from your lips.

Jack was slow, taking his time. No matter how often his hands would explore your body, he'd never tire of it. Although there was a thought stuck in his head. How you'd look with his child, how happy he could make you.

He bit his lip a little, trying to imagine how it would be for the little ones to get another playmate. And how you'd look, plump tits full of milk and your body getting more plush and soft. How happy he could make you, picking out names and going shopping. Having a little girl or boy that looked just like you running around the house.

And of course, he thought about how it would be to make this theoretical child. Definitely one of his favorite parts of this idea.

How your tight cunt would squeeze around his cock for everything he got. How it would be to go in raw and feel your sweet walls engulf him, squeeze and milk him. How you'd moan for him, how nice and deep he'd fuck you. Nice and deep, he would make sure it takes.

You turned your head to face Jack, your lips puckered a little and Jack did not waste a second to give you the kiss you silently asked for. His breath was heavy, his nose nuzzling against yours as he was claiming your lips with eager. It was one of the things you loved about Jack, his eagerness, his need to please. He wasn't a man who half-assed.

"I have an idea...", he mumbled with his mouth close to your ear. "Oh?" Your voice was a little amused as your hand reached back into his hair. Another sloppy kiss was shared before Jack laughed against your lips huskily.

"How about another brat, keke?" His question was voiced with lust, tone sultry making it oh too obvious what his intentions were even before he ground his hard cock against your ass. Your lips turned upwards in a little grin as you pressed back against him. "Oh?", you asked before laughing a little, "I thought I was insane for building a little army, as you have put it?"

"Let's make it a strong one." He whispered to your ear, his hands wandering to places they wouldn't belong in any more public space. "I promise I'll give you a strong addition.", he purred in your ears. A wide smile crept over his face as your sweet moans reached his ears. His fingers shamelessly toying with your clit. "I bet your brats would like another sibling."

"They probably would...", you agreed between heavy breaths. Your lips crashed against his again, your kisses eager and sloppy. Jack couldn't help but grin against your lips at the way you moaned into the kiss, his fingers wandering lower. Your slick collecting on his fingers before he pushed inside.

Jack's fingers were long, strong, and precise. His ring and middle finger worked on easing in and out your tight entrance, curling them to reach just the spot that had you bucking back into him. His thumb was still drawing sloppy and lazy circles on your clit while his mouth nipped and kissed on your throat, leaving little hickeys and marks.

He was impatient, hungry for you. His soft pace soon turned sloppy and fast, his cock rubbing against your ass through his pants. He responded to your moans with his own, your kisses getting messy, lips smashing against each other urgently.

His cock was throbbing in his pants, straining against the fabric and begging to be freed. To be engulfed in your sweet, slick walls instead of this fabric. His tongue was pushing out his mouth to get a taste of you, sweet, slutty moans that matched yours rolling off his lips.

"Can't wait to fuck you." He whispered shakingly, the pace of his fingers was still going, it was messy but unrelenting. "Then don't," you moaned against his lips.

In an instant, his hands retracted from your pants. His tall body crept over you, not even a minute after your clothes were discarded on the floor while Jack was making quick work of his own clothes. It was hot, and your vision was blurry, not like Jack felt any different from you. His vision was blurry and the only real point of focus was you.

Naked, spread out for him. Just for him. Ready to be devoured.

There was this insatiable hunger Jack felt every time he looked at you. It wasn't that bad at first, but it was there. But once you let him have a taste there was no turning back, he was hooked. Hooked on your body, your love. Hooked on you.

He grabbed your hips, pulling you closer with ease to align his length with your entrance. A gentleman, he teased you a little first, making sure his cock was covered in your juices and you were whining with your hole clenching around nothing for him. Such a gentleman, sinking his cock in slowly, making you feel every inch.

"Take me like a good girl, yeah?" He cooed at you, his lips turned upwards in a huge smile when he saw your face. You were so cute, red-faced, and heavily breathing. How could he ever resist you?

Your cunt was gripping him tightly, so tightly it was melting parts of his brain. He was only sinking in fully once and he already felt drunk off your pussy. Your sounds the sweetest thing he has ever heard.

He was breathing heavily, slowly sliding out and in, creating a rhythm that made you mewl with pleasure. Jack's eyebrows were furrowed as he tried his best, his very best not to lose his mind with the way your walls were pulsating around him and he could swear it was hypnotic or something. His kisses were sloppy and messy, hot breath coming out in short bursts.

It wasn't long after that the slow work-up did in fact not work for you two. Your sounds were loud enough to alert the neighbors, it was a good thing the kids were out. Jack couldn't control himself with the way he was fucking bullying his cock into your soaking cunt, loud squelching noises accompanied by the sound of his tight balls smacking against your ass over and over.

Your moans were lewd and loud, spilling into each other's mouths as your kisses were messy and full of tongue. Each thrust, each kiss full of lust, of desire for one another. The Captain rocked his hips into yours over and over again, his leaking cock nuzzling against all those places that had you in ecstasy. The heels of your feet digging into his lower back, trying to push him deeper.

It was almost animalistic, the way your bodies moved. His thrusts were sharp, hard, and fast. The sounds of your moans vibrating from the walls, the creaking of the bed, and the headboard slamming against the wall mixed with your voices creating a symphony of sin.

"I'm close, so close", you whined against his lips. Jack's grip on your hip tightened, his rhythm changing just a little to adjust his hip to slam in deeper, harder. Your fingers scratching his back and tugging at his hair was causing him to moan loader, to fuck into you more eagerly. His eyes were darting between your pleasure-struck face, a sight for the gods if he could say so himself, and the creamy white ring that built on the base of his cock.

"Good girl, such a pretty thing.", he praised between shaky breaths. A big grin plastered across his face, and one of his hands came up to cup your cheek. He made sure you'd look at him, basking in the sight of how flustered you got. Chest heaving and teary-eyed, a sight he'd never forget. His thrusts got harsher, forcing you to look at him while your face twisted and contorted in pleasure. The coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, until it couldn't hold.

A loud moan escaped your lips, thighs shaking violently as your pussy clenches tightly around his length. The sensation was too much for the tall man, his moans becoming slightly more high-pitched as his hips stuttered, rhythm losing as he fucked himself into you more desperately. You were gripping him so tightly, your cum running along his length and dribbling down your legs and he couldn't compose himself. His hips rutted and ground into you with carnal need, chasing his high until he was spurting hot, sticky streaks of his release.

The tall man was still grinding his hip against yours after a few seconds, letting his orgasm wash over him before his arms gave out. He let himself fall on you, not his entire weight at once but he still wanted to stay there, on top of you, close to you, inside of you.

"Bloody hell", he laughed quietly, breath heavy as he peppered lazy kisses to your cheek. "You think it'll take?", he asked after a moment, rolling over and wrapping his arms around you. "I think it's a little early to say", you replied amused. Jack nodded understandingly.

"Then we should just keep repeating this until we have confirmation."

[cyberdenizen]

DISCIPLINE FOR A SCHOOLGIRL

This story can be found as a dedicated page on my blog: Here

This story features a number of kinks, primarily: Corruption \ Exhibition \ Rape \ Student-Teacher

===============================================

At times, a student can’t help but feel attraction towards her teacher. At times, a teacher can’t help but feel attraction towards his student.

As is often the case for a catholic school, strict dress codes are in place. And this school is no different. The teachers are mandated to wear what borders on classifying as a suit. The male students must wear khaki or grey slacks with a light blue or stark white button up, a tie with school colors, and a blazer, the color of which denotes their year. The female students must wear a knee length pleated skirt, with subtle plaid patterning, black or navy stockings or pantyhose, a stark white blouse, a small pussy bow tie with school colors, and a blazer, the color of which denotes their year. Of course, students constantly push these mandates. Un-tucked shirts, shorter skirts, undone ties, the list goes on. But all that is mere pretext to the story that follows.

A time came where one math teacher couldn’t help but notice one of his students. Her grades slipped more and more throughout the year, she would turn to gossip with the girl behind her more frequently… When he looked to her file, he found that she had received detention three times now for dress code violations. On the first, her skirt was barely halfway down her thighs, not to her knees. On the second, she was wearing white knee-high socks rather than the mandated stockings or pantyhose. And on the third, she had been wearing fishnets, and had her skirt shorter than her first infraction. It was time he aided her, she used to be such a good student, and he felt it his responsibility to make her the best student.

And so, she received a slip during class calling for her to meet him in his classroom after school. He could only hope she would obey the command, but he could guarantee nothing.

The bells rang, signifying the school-day’s end. Minutes passed. Five, ten, fifteen. And then… a knock. In she came, dropping her bag as she asked why she was summoned. “Take a seat, dear. I find that when dumb little… er… rather, when failing students are in need of much assistance, a special form of tutoring helps make the subject stick in their little minds.” Her brow raised, “What do you mean?” “You’ll soon understand, little student of mine.” He calmly stated as he unlocked and opened his desk drawer, pulling four items from it. He stepped around her seat, items held behind his back so she could not see them. “Your grades have been suffering more than any student I’ve ever had, you’ve gone from my star student to bordering on flunking… and in order to pass…” She gulped, body tense. “In order to pass, special tutoring is required.” As these words escaped his lips, he swiftly swung his hands over her head. The first item was in place, against her lips, a ball gag. A tear dripped down her cheek as she attempted to speak against his actions, but the gag prevented anything more than muffled sounds to escape. “You’re clearly too dumb to learn through traditional means,” he held the second item in front of her eyes, a metal plug, jewelled on the end. Up he lifted her, from the seat, and over he bent her, leaning on his desk as he flipped her skirt up. Her panties were damp as he pulled them aside, and with a little of his spit for lube, and a near-screaming moan from her, *POP*, the plug was in. “Step two is said and done, you’re well on your way to being a perfect little schoolgirl finally.” Without showing off the third item, he pressed it to her dripping hole and forced it in, covering it with her panties and sitting her back down. Her eyes were damp with tears, filled with emotions she didn’t understand. He dangled a small purple key-chain in front of her, grabbed it firmly and then… *BUZZ* From inside her, the third item was a vibrator, the fourth was its remote.

And so the tutoring continued. The vibrator buzzing up and down over and over as she squirmed helplessly. Her teacher writing math equations on the board while explaining why she’ll never need them, why good little whores don’t need thoughts at all.

Then suddenly, a figure could be heard beyond the door, visible as a silhouette through the frosted window. The vibrator turned down. “Quiet little student of mine, and give me just a moment.” He stepped outside and called the figure back. She could hear him speaking to one of her classmates. “I know you’re passing, but your grades could improve. I only have study material for one at the moment, but if you’d like to join, I’m sure she can share.” All she could think was “What is he doing… focusing on her… when I’m right here…” “Ah, a shame, well hurry home and be safe.” He stepped back in. “Looks like it’s just you and me, little one.” He watched her body pulse as she felt an orgasm come over her, the vibe turning up higher, higher, higher still.

And so tutoring continued until sunset. The buses left, the clubs ended, and there she sat, shaking, dripping, moaning mindlessly before her teacher. “It’s time we get you home, isn’t it?” He said, turning down the toy slightly. She nodded mindlessly, she didn’t even understand the words, she just accepts what he says as law. He pulled the gag from her and put it away. “Now… I’ll need to know your address.” She recited it. “Good girl. Oh, and you may keep those two… study items… for now. Return them to me Monday morning.”

Into his car she climbed, and off he drove. And then… she wondered. Did he really want her, just her… he was willing to “tutor” another girl as well… She began to doubt… and decided to test her teacher. And so she spoke, of outing him. And as he drove he merely chuckled and asked if she recognized where they were. “No…” Because he wasn’t heading to her home yet. He spoke about a potential morning news report, of a missing schoolgirl, and of suspects… of which he was not one, for one reason or another that he explained. Up went the vibrator again. “Besides,” he expressed, “You’re MY perfect little school slut, you would never want anything to happen to me.” She simply gulped, smiled, and admitted his words to be true.

Finally, after a long detour, and forcing her to cum a grand total of seven times between tutoring and the ride, he pulled up to her house, helped her out, walked her to the door, and knocked. Her mother answered. He explained that he apologized for the delay. He stated that he was tutoring her along with some other students who were failing more recently, and that there was more material to cover than he had realized at first. He explained that because of the schools policy on phone use, she did not have her phone, and in-fact, forgot it in her locker (he did not let her take it before leaving).

And so the weekend passed, and Monday morning came. And he sat, early in the morning, at his desk looking through his weekly lesson plans, when she knocked and entered. “Where are your study materials?” He asked. She blushed bright. “I…in me, sir… m…may I call you… Master?” “You may.” He smiled, “Just not in class.

[yonduismarrypoppins]

‘Mother May I Sleep With Danger, Please'.....

Summary: Bucky and the reader have gone undercover.

Photos aren't mine, credit to the og owners

Tiltle from ‘Mother May I Sleep With Danger?’ By Joy Crookes

Warnings: reader is black, reader is wearing a dress and has a back tattoo, she/her pronouns, Bucky drinks a glass of whiskey, the longest fic I've ever written, no y/n used, weird nicknames, google translate Russian, ending is abrupt bc I couldn't think of any ending that wasn't me stealing from someone else, speaking of which; inspired by @buckyalpine ‘s fic

A/N: thanks to @webinurcloset for proofreading

I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO REPOST OR TRANSLATE AND REPOST, THIS IS MY WRITING! DO NOT FEED MY WORK INTO ANY AI BOT.

I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MAKING THIS 18+ CONTENT. MOVE ON MINOR.

You were the newest addition to the avengers, quiet, solemn but hardworking nonetheless. You had been living in the tower for a month now, not a soul but you had seen the inside of your apartments. Every dinner, meeting and mission you stayed silent save for the occasional ‘hello’ ‘thank you’ and ‘goodnight’. The other Avengers didn't make a big deal of it, knowing how anxiety can affect a person especially a newly appointed avenger.

You had not yet been approved for missions so you spent most of your time in your room, but the few times you were spotted around the tower or the compound you wore loose black sweats and a scarf around your hair. The only visible parts of you being your face and part of your neck, the parts of you they could see they appreciated. They weren't very concerned about the rest of your body, knowing most of them were covered in scars, some more inclined to hide them than others.

Everyone expected that to change, especially once you were approved for missions. The week had finally come. They were given the option to watch from the balcony as you were examined in the training gym. As Tony hadn't finished your ‘Hero Suit’ as he called it, you were given a SHIELD issue suit. Unsurprisingly it covered more of your body than your sweats did, with a high neck, gloves and a hood. Though your silhouette was certainly visible, Steve's blush made that clear. You had undeniable skill easily mastering each and every weapon handed to you, easily defeating over a dozen SHIELD agents. 

You were called into a meeting shortly after your approval, along with Sam, Natasha and Bucky. You walked in to see the three spy’s spread about, sat around the long metal table. You were surprised at Steve's absence, deducing that this mission was to be more covert than usual. You were told by Maria Hill the nature of the mission, surveillance, which came as no surprise to you.

After a long silence caused by one of Sam's ‘jokes’, you wondered if you all would be sitting in a van together for hours. Maria quickly began to discuss the details of the mission. You and Bucky would be infiltrating a gala, set to happen the next day hosted by a man named Anatoli Volkov at his private residence in New Hampshire, one of his many properties. 

He had been suspected of human trafficking and many other dirty dealings by the FBI for years, only falling under SHIELDS radar after one of the girls he had ‘allegedly’ kidnaped was found in a Hydra facility barely breathing 3 years later. She thankfully survived and was able to give some information on how she ended up there, including Volkov’s name.

Maria gave you the files on yours and Bucky's undercover identities; Ukraine and American born spies, respectively, over a dozen confirmed kills, married in 2015... You stopped for a moment, eyes reverting back to that last phrase, a couple, a married couple. Feeling Bucky's eyes on you, you kept your expression as neutral as possible before continuing to read on. After the briefing you briskly made your way to your room, grabbing a bottle of your favorite drink from your fridge.

You thanked whoever designed this building for allowing everyone to have their own apartments, two to a floor with the only exception being Wanda and Vision.

Their apartments have been merged so they now have the floor to themselves.

The moderately sized units were outfitted with a kitchen with a small dining table, a small living room along with a television, bathroom, small walk in closet and bedroom. As well as the F.R.I.D.A.Y. ai wired throughout the building.

You had put more time into decorating than you originally planned but overall, you made a home for yourself. You only had to leave when you ran out of food, for training or for laundry and other chores. After a few hours sitting in your bed, memorizing the blueprints for Volkov's house and every given detail of your new identity F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s startled you out of your focus, notifying you that someone was at your door.

You opened your door to Bucky holding a black garment bag and a medium sized shopping bag in his right hand with a large black box in his left.

“Hill wanted me to give you these” he handed you the two bags, “and Tony finished your suit”

You weren't necessarily surprised at his arrival, considering you two shared a floor it made sense for him to be the one to deliver the items to you.

You thanked him quietly, reaching out to grab the box. It was heavier than expected. You gave him a small smile before closing the door. The heat in your cheeks suddenly became quite noticeable. You hoped quietly that the melanin you were so grateful for covered any hypothetical redness.

As you passed the windows on the way to your bedroom you noticed the dark night sky, you hadn't realized how late it was. You hung up the garment bag on the hook you had placed outside of your closet door, placing the bag and your new suit on the bed. You made your way to the bathroom to take a shower, the warm water calming you as you reflected on the events of the day.

You had been trying to befriend your fellow Avengers but your anxieties prevented you from being outgoing. You had grown closest with Bruce, as he could relate to your fears. You stepped out of the shower commencing your skincare and body care routine. After you finished you went to grab the garment bag, trying on the gown to ensure it fit with the black heels they'd given you to go along with it.

You quite liked the ensemble, but you weren't quite thrilled to wear it in front of the rest of the Avengers. You took it off returning the items to their previous packaging before putting on your night clothes and getting in your bed. You fell asleep searching for hairstyles to wear to the gala on Pinterest.

You dreamt of Bucky that night, how he might touch you with his large hands, one warm flesh, one cool metal , how he might look at you with gorgeous and piercing blue eyes, how he might love you with all of that and everything in between.

__________________

The Next Morning

You awoke earlier than normal, 4:56, a habit you'd had since adolescence when you were anxious. You changed into your workout clothes, black sports bra, leggings and the lulu lemon jacket Natasha had gifted to you when you first arrived. You made your way to the restroom where you pulled your hair back into a ponytail. Putting on your favorite pair of red sneakers before leaving.

Making your way to the elevator, Bucky's apartment door opened. You stopped in front of the elevator doors, turning to watch him. He turned around and made eye contact with you, after a few minutes of still silence you spoke, “going down?” he shut his door and answered with a smile, “yea”.

He stood beside you as the doors opened, he raised his hand allowing you to enter first pressing the gym floor button as he turned facing the closing the doors. You smiled down at the elevator buttons as Bucky adjusted his position so he wouldn't crowd you, something he often did unintentionally due to his large stature.

10, 9, 8.. The small screen changed as you descended the floors. “Thank you for bringing me the stuff for the mission.'' Bucky smiled, the most he'd ever heard you speak.

6, 5… “Of course, how'd you like your suit?” your suit, you'd forgotten to try it on last night. You didn't even open the box, “I haven't put it on yet” “no rush, I was just curious” he shrugged “its ok, I would be too” you both smiled.

4, 3. The doors slid open, you exited first heading for the women's locker room so you could use the bathroom. Glad to find it empty, you were in and out spending most of your time at the sink washing your hands and examining everything that just happened in the elevator. After finding one too many reasons to be embarrassed you left the bathroom and entered the gym, heading right for the open floor to stretch.

The gym was just as empty as the locker room, save for Bucky, you decided to go light today. Loosen yourself up before the mission just to avoid being sore. You finished before Bucky did, he was on the pull up bar as he had been for the 7 minutes before then, you'd spent that time admiring his muscular back looking away when you began to feel a gathering wetness in your underwear.

You left just before the morning gym rush arrived, taking another shower in your room and putting on your usual sweats and scarf before getting some fruit to eat in front of the tv where you sat for the next few hours.

You looked at the clock, 5:00. You were set to leave at 6:30.

You quickly got up, making sure you packed everything you needed to style your hair and do your makeup. You grabbed the garment and shoe bag along with a black purse with hardware that matched your chosen jewelry and a black scarf made with the same material of the dress to cover your shoulders. You made sure you had everything you needed before running to the elevator, heading to the top floor to board the quinjet.

You arrived first, much to your surprise, allowing the SHIELD agent piloting to pack your things into the built in storage compartments. As you sat down, Sam, Nat and Bucky arrived with their clothes and other supplies in tow. You looked back down over your thighs to make sure you put your seatbelt into the right clip. When you looked back up they were walking to their seats Bucky choosing to sit next to you

“Hey doll” he said with a small smile, “hello” you replied quietly. Sam and Nat sat across from you both. Suddenly a SHIELD agent, who appeared to be quite out of breath ran up the ramp. He stopped in front of you handing you a small black box, “the wedding rings mam” he said exasperatedly. You thanked him before he nodded and ran back out. You opened the box to two simple wedding bands, one thicker than the other and a diamond ring, one you might have chosen for yourself if this was real. You held out the box to Bucky before he reached for the thicker band, placing it on his ring finger before you did the same.

You noticed the rings were not new, with small nicks and marks. An important detail, especially if you were going to be surrounded by people as observant as you. You made a mental note to fake a tan line on yours and Bucky’s fingers later. The pilot cut through the silence on the intercom, announcing the beginning of the flight.

You landed in the SHIELD port shortly after as the flight was only 15 minutes. You were taken to the car port by another agent along with your bags where Natasha was given keys to a black cadillac escalade. You all stood against the grey concrete wall for a second, watching as the agent packed your things into the trunk of the car you looked at Bucky to your right, admiring how his jawline was accentuated by his man bun. You were sure you might have gaged at the bundle of hair on anyone else but on him you couldn't help but fawn over it. He looked down at you with a grin, making you look forward again embarrassed, glad to see the agent was finished.

Nat drove to the hotel where you would be staying, pleasantly surprised that it was an actual hotel and not a dirty highway motel like some of the other Avengers had been made to stay in. You and Nat packed all of your things onto a luggage cart while Sam and Bucky checked you all in.

“You should tell him you like him, you know, he likes you just as much.” Natasha says suddenly, you look up at her with shocked eyes “what?” you ask quickly, voice wavering. She flashes a grin at you, “Nothing, sorry”

You pushed the luggage cart into the lobby where Bucky and Sam were waiting by the elevator, you struggled slightly to push the cart into the elevator, Natasha and Sam attempting to help you on the other side. “I'll help you doll”. He moved behind you, placing his hands just above yours. You felt his warm body push into yours as you stumbled in with the cart. You turned to face him as the doors closed looking into his eyes for a moment, you cleared your throat, breaking eye contact and speaking quietly to ask “which floor?” he smirked “penthouse, doll” you clicked the button watching as it lit up and feeling the elevator begin to move.

Bucky was too preoccupied watching you avoid looking at his face to notice the look Sam and Nat exchanged, one of pride and cunning, it was only a matter of time.

Nat and Sam left your coms on the desk before going across the hall to their room. You used the master bathroom to get ready while Bucky used the half bath. You had finished your hair and makeup but were struggling to close the dress, the satin buttons proving hard to reach. You stepped out of the bathroom calling for Bucky, “what's up doll” he stepped out of the bathroom fixing his suit cuff, you were pulled into a trance admiring how he looked in the black suit, his bun making him look even more mysterious.

“Doll?” you snapped out of it. Not realizing he had moved closer to you, “what do you need, sweet girl?” he spoke softly, you swore that his pet names would make you spontaneously combust. “I need help with my dress, I can't get it closed.” You turned your back to him so he could start closing the buttons. He quietly admired the art tattooed on your back, it was beautiful, elongating your back with its elegant design. With every brush of his hands on your skin you became more and more flustered thanking whatever deity was looking down on you when he announced he was done, you turned to face him again “You look great doll.” Bucky said with a smile, your eyes flashing in between his eyes and chest a few times before you spoke up, “I'll just grab my bag and we can go” 

You made sure you had on all of your jewelry, including your wedding rings, your bag, your scarf and your com before you told Bucky you were ready to go. You stepped out just as Natasha and Sam did, donning their driver and bodyguard outfits respectively. The elevator trip was much less awkward, Sam even managing to make a joke that you all laughed at.

You all walked to the car, you and Sam moving to the right and Nat and Bucky moving to the left. Nat and Sam got in the front seats of the car while Bucky opened the door for you, you slid to the seat on the other end so he wouldn't have to circle the car to enter. Sam pulled off just as he shut the door. You had been staring absentmindedly out of the window when you felt Bucky grip your hand and pull it towards his chest. You turned your head toward him, making no movements as you had no intention of pulling your hand away. As he turned the wedding rings on your finger you wondered again what it would be like to be loved by Bucky.

The drive was short, you arrived ‘fashionably late’ as Sam called it at 8:15. The estate was gorgeous, elegant and large but not overbearing. It rested on a large piece of land surrounded by forests and greenery.

“Ladies and gents we have arrived. I'll circle to the entrance to drop you two off and we'll park a few blocks away.” Sam said, while his tone was gleeful you heard the underlying worry in his voice. Bucky walked out and around to your door, reaching his hand around to help you step out. “Don't forget to turn on your coms.” Nat added quickly as you Bucky closed the car door.

Bucky moved his arm around your waist to guide you up the stairs of the extravagant mansion, the doors opened to a gorgeous ballroom, warm lighting, brown tones and old school jazz music coming from the live band in the corner. Just quiet enough to feel like a background song to a memory. There were plenty of people, criminals you assumed. All well dressed in browns, blacks and creams.

You admired the dress of one woman while Bucky walked you to the bar, keeping you close. He ordered himself a whiskey neat. One of the perks that come from being a super soldier on missions, he can drink normal alcohol with no consequences because it has no effect on his body. Discovering his inability to get drunk has given Bucky the opportunity to drink whiskey for the flavor, he has become a bit of a connoisseur post freedom, his current favorite being Bushmills Black Bush Whiskey. You ordered a ‘Shirley Temple’, not necessarily feeling like drinking alcohol. You moved to sit on the bar stool facing away from the bar while Bucky stayed standing on your right side waiting for your drinks.

The bartender handed Bucky your drinks when suddenly you felt a clammy hand on your shoulder, “ну что тут у нас? экзотическая красавица?” (well what do we have here? an exotic beauty?) You looked up at the person touching him, and immediately recognized him as Anatoli Volkov. You wanted to pull his hand off of you and break it but you couldn't do anything to make him suspicious, thankfully Bucky spoke before you did.

“моя жена великолепна, не так ли?” (my wife is gorgeous, isn't she?) he said, putting some obvious emphasis on the word wife. He then wrapped one of his arms around your neck. You reached up to grasp his hand floating hand, pulling it down slightly. Volkov smirked, “I meant you no offense, Mr.?” he said in an amused tone, highlighting his thick accent.

“Joseph Smith and my wife Iris”. Your thumb swiped across his hand as he spoke, your head leaning back into his chest. Anatoli reached his hand out towards Bucky to shake, “it's nice to meet you Joseph, i hope to see you both again” Volkov looked down at you with a sly smirk, Bucky diverted his attention when he reciprocated his handshake, Anatoli's eyes shooting back up to him. “I hope to see you again too” Bucky smiled but his grip tightened, Volkov shook out his hand as he turned and walked away from the both of you. You turned to face the bar taking a sip of your drink, the sweet liquid refreshing your parched throat.

Bucky's arm moved off of you to take a sip of his drink. You turned back to the crowd after downing half of your drink, taking a moment to see how much security was in the building. Eventually you noticed at least 8 men in all black suits, all of whom had repeatedly talked to the same man in a dark blue suit. He had been shadowing Volkov since you arrived, you noted.

Suddenly Bucky grabbed your knees, pulling you to face him and moving your legs around his waist, with one hand you gripped his wrist and with the other you stabilized yourself on his shoulder. Your hand slowly moved up his arm as he pushed his hand up into your dress clutching and rubbing at your ass and thighs. “gray suit 2:00, he might have made us, i'm not sure.” you barely brought yourself to tear your eyes away from his face to look at the man in question. He was standing in a corner watching the two of you, finally looking away to reach into his pocket to answer his phone. You tried to read his lips but were quickly distracted when Bucky pushed his head into your neck, your hand flying to his neck carefully holding his head.

“Think we should go?” he said into your ear, you cleared your throat “we don't have anything on Volkov yet, we should wait.” he grunted in response before pulling his head out from your shoulder, only moving one of his hands to reach for his glass of whiskey again. You looked up at him, wondering how he can manage to make butterflies turn in your stomach while staying completely calm, you hoped that your flustered behavior wasn't tipping off the other people in the ballroom. You looked back at the jazz band when the music ended, quietly clapping before Anatoli walked on stage. You immediately rolled your eyes, wanting to zone out but knowing that if you did you'd likely regret it. You reached to take a sip of your drink, reminding yourself as to why you hadn't ordered something alcoholic when Anatoli began to speak.

The whole speech was in Russian, he thanked his guests, boasted and bragged but still delivered no useful information. Fake laughter coming from all sides of the room. You had zoned out a bit, listening to the heavenly jazz band on stage once again until you felt a hand on your neck. Bucky grasped both sides of your face with both of his hands, tilting your head up to look at him, he chucked when you hesitated to look him in the eye.

He held his forehead against yours brushing your lips against each other before speaking again, “Somebodys watching us, doll.” He smirked when he finished using his hands to push your head in the direction of the man in the gray suit once again. You looked back at Bucky before aiming your head down.

You took your hands, taping the inside of yours and Bucky’s ears discreetly before moving them around his neck. You spoke quietly, “Nat, do you copy?” there were a few seconds of static before a response came “Copy kitty-girl, what's going on in there?” you smiled at the nickname, reminded of the night you and Nat had snuck Alpine out from Bucky’s room to put her in the animal Falcon costume. “We're all good but maybe not for long, we’re being watched.” “Alright, get out of there. We'll be at the front waiting.” You heard her call for Sam to start the car before you looked at Bucky in the eye again, nodding subtly.

He moved his hands from your face, grabbing your bag from the bar before lifting you off of the stool, you let a small gasp escape you. Before you could process the action he was pulling you across the room to the entrance, when you reached the stairs he placed an arm under your shoulders and the other under your knee, the action made you squeal and you in turn made him laugh. You felt like a princess, or at the very least a main character in a rom com that was not deemed relevant enough to have Bucky watch yet.

You were sure that anyone witnessing the interaction would simply think you two were a happy couple eager to get home after a long night of tension.

He placed you down to open the door to the large van, lifting you into your seat before sliding in himself. Sam begins to open his mouth to speak when you put a finger over your mouth in an effort to quiet him. You look through your purse finding a bug in the open interior pocket and a tracker handing them to Natasha, she hands you a bug detector. You took Bucky's hands to make sure there were no other devices before doing a quick sweep over his body and yours, after finding nothing you say “alright, we're clear”. Natasha smiles when you hand the bug detector back to her, noticing that Bucky hasn't taken his eyes off of you and you haven't let go of Bucky's hand.

It's done, I'm done, sorry if this sucks.

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