#sorry it took so long to respond by the way

[hottiesforhockey]

dicked down december ⎜q.hughes

🎄pairings: quinn hughes x afab!reader 🎄genre: christmas special ⎜smut ⎜ established relationship⎜ 🎄warnings: dry humping ⎜ fingering ⎜ oral (f! and m! receiving) ⎜ thigh riding ⎜ hair pulling ⎜ doggy style ⎜ blindfold ⎜ shower sex ⎜vibrator use ⎜public sex ⎜ edging ⎜mentions of injury⎜ p in v ⎜ quinn is all about pleasing his girl ⎜pwp ⎜ unprotected sex ⎜ 🎄synopsis: after a rather anti climatic no nut november (on your part) - quinn wants to make it up to you with the twelve gifts of christmas. 🎄word count: 13.4k 🎄authors note:  this is part 2 to no nut november and was highly requested! this took a lot longer then expected to write so I'm really sorry for the delay - i hope everyone enjoys and Merry Christmas!! also I will be posting a small graphic at the bottom of how I fit in the twelve gifts of christmas.

(heavily unedited)

1st of December

“Fuck, Quinn.” You curse, your back arching as his warm hands run up your spine. You let out a long whine as his fingers dig deeper. 

“Baby, it’s just a massage calm down a little.” He chuckles, his knees planted on either side of your hips as his thumbs work on the knots in your back. 

His voice is warm and teasing, but you can hear the smile in it, and it makes your heart thrum. You shift slightly beneath him, the ache in your back melting away as his thumbs continue their work.

“Does it feel that good, or are you just desperate?” Quinn murmurs, leaning down so close his breath ghosts over the shell of your ear.

You huff, trying to ignore the heat pooling low in your stomach. “I didn’t agree with the  whole no-touching thing, remember? That was your idea.”

He hums, his hands pausing for a moment before he leans back up, kneading the tight spot between your shoulders with more purpose. “I know, baby. And I also know you’re really bad at being patient.”

“Maybe because you keep doing stuff like this,” you shoot back, craning your neck to look at him. His grin is maddening, smug and knowing, his dark hair falling into his eyes. He looks way too good for your sanity right now.

“Well,” he starts, his tone casual, “I guess it’s a good thing we’re officially done with all that now.”

You blink, his words catching you off guard. “Wait—”

Quinn sits back on his heels, sliding his hands down to your waist before flipping you onto your back in one smooth motion. The shift knocks the breath out of your lungs, and you can’t help the small gasp that escapes you.

“Gift one, baby,” he says, his voice lower now, tinged with something darker. His hands stay at your waist, his thumbs brushing against your bare skin. “The first of twelve. Think of it as an apology for making you wait so long.”

Your heart skips a beat, your body buzzing with anticipation as he leans down, his lips hovering just above yours. “Twelve gifts, huh?” you manage to say, your voice trembling just a little.

He grins, his lips finally brushing against yours in the faintest whisper of a kiss. “Twelve gifts to make it up to you—and then some.”

You barely have time to respond before his lips press firmly against yours, the kiss slow and deliberate, like he’s savouring every second. His hands trail up from your waist, skimming your sides until they settle just beneath your ribs. His thumbs stroke the sensitive skin there, sending shivers racing through you.

"Quinn," you breathe against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. He hums in response, deep and satisfied, as if hearing his name like that was exactly what he wanted.

The heat between you builds quickly, each touch, each kiss stoking the fire that had been simmering for far too long. He breaks away just enough to let his forehead rest against yours, his breath coming in soft pants that mirror your own.

“I’ve got big plans for you, you know,” he murmurs, his voice teasing but roughened with desire.

“Oh, yeah?” you reply, tilting your head to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “This your way of saying you’re gonna spend the next month making me regret not jumping you last month?”

“Every few days, like an advent calendar” He corrects, “Can’t have you quitting on me.” His laugh is low and warm, the sound sending a fresh wave of heat straight through you. “Baby, the only thing you’re gonna regret is not asking for thirteen.”

Before you can respond, his lips are on yours again, more insistent this time. His hands roam your body with purpose, his touch igniting every nerve. It’s not rushed, though. No, Quinn is taking his time, making sure every kiss, every brush of his fingers is deliberate, like he’s mapping every inch of you.

As his hands drift lower, his mouth leaves yours to trail kisses down your jaw, then to your neck, where he nips lightly at the sensitive skin just below your ear. You gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as your body arches into him.

“God, I missed this,” he whispers against your skin, his voice thick with need.

“Then stop teasing me,” you shoot back, your own voice breathy and uneven.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and filled with mischief. “Oh, baby, we’re just getting started. Gift one, remember?”

The promise in his words sends a thrill through you, and as his lips find yours again, you realise you might not survive twelve days of this. But if this is how Quinn plans to make up for lost time, you’re more than willing to let him try.

+

+

3rd of December

“Quinn this really doesn’t seem appropriate.” You hiss, smacking at his hand riding higher up your thigh. You watch with a smile as Quinn’s parents flitter around you house, the two of them pointing out each of the small decorations around the room. 

"Appropriate?" Quinn whispers, his voice low and teasing as his fingers continue their slow, deliberate ascent.

"Baby, you were the one who insisted on sitting next to me. What did you expect?" You glare at him, trying to keep your expression neutral as his parents continue their animated conversation across the room.

 “I expected you to behave,” you mutter, swatting his hand again, though it doesn’t seem to deter him in the slightest. “I did not think public nudity was this high on your list.” 

“Oh, we’re saving that for gift twelve.” He leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I am behaving. You should be thanking me for my restraint right now.”

Your cheeks flush at his words, and you quickly glance toward his parents to ensure they haven’t noticed anything. His mom is holding up a snow globe, admiring it with a fond smile, while his dad adjusts one of the stockings hanging on the mantle. Blissfully unaware.

“Quinn,” you warn in a low voice, but it only makes his grin widen. The mischievous glint in his eye is unmistakable, and you know he’s enjoying this far too much.

“What? I’m just helping you get into the holiday spirit,” he replies innocently, though the way his fingers are now tracing slow circles on your thigh suggests otherwise. You reach under the table and grab his wrist, giving it a firm squeeze.

 “If you don’t stop, your parents are going to see. Do you really want them to catch you acting like this?”

He chuckles softly, leaning back in his chair like he’s completely unbothered. “Relax, baby. They’re too busy with their little Christmas tour to notice anything.”

You narrow your eyes at him but don’t have a chance to respond before his mom’s voice cuts through the room.

“This place looks so festive!” she exclaims, turning toward you with a warm smile. “You two really went all out with the decorations.”

Quinn flashes her his most charming smile, his hand finally retreating from your thigh to rest on the table. “All her doing, Mum. She’s got a knack for this kind of thing.”

You shoot him a look, trying to mask your relief. “It was a joint effort,” you say modestly, though your tone is a little tighter than usual. “Quinn helped me pick out the tree.”

His dad nods approvingly. “Well, it looks great. Reminds me of our first Christmas together, doesn’t it, hon?” He glances at Quinn’s mom, who immediately launches into a story about their early days of marriage.

As they reminisce, you feel Quinn’s hand slide back onto your thigh under the table, and you barely manage to suppress a groan. He gives your leg a gentle squeeze, his expression perfectly innocent as he listens to his parents. His fingers just grazing the edge of your underwear. 

“Quinn,” you whisper sharply, your tone laced with both exasperation and a hint of amusement.

He leans toward you again, his lips quirking up in a small, knowing smile. “Dad, didn’t you say you had that dinner with your old college friends to get to?” His dad perks up at the reminder, glancing to at his watch in surprise before looking over at his wife who nods in acknowledgement, collect her purse from the floor besides the table. 

“The house is looking lovely, thank you for helping my Quinn get his stuff in order.” Ellen says softly as she pulls you in for a hug, her hand patting your head gently as she pulls away with a warm smile. You give her a soft nod and a quiet ‘it’s nothing, really.’ Before walking the parents to the door, bidding them a quick farewell as Quinn closes the door from besides you, his hand pushing the hair off the back of your neck as he leans forwards and presses a soft kiss to your neck. 

“Do you actually have a list of what you’re doing?” You question as he loops his arms arounds your waist pulling you backwards towards the bedroom, his lips spreading into a smile against your skin. 

“No.” He admits, a sigh of relief escaping you as he adds, “It’s an excel spreadsheet.” 

You groan, half in exasperation, half in laughter, as Quinn tightens his hold around your waist, nudging you gently down the hall. His breath is warm against your neck, and the smug grin in his voice is unmistakable.

“An Excel spreadsheet, Quinn? Seriously?”

“What can I say? I like to stay organised.” His tone is casual, but the way his hands slide under the hem of your sweater is anything but. You swat at his wandering fingers again, though with far less conviction this time.

 “Organised is colour-coding the Christmas bins, not...whatever this is.”

“Baby,” he murmurs, steering you into the bedroom, “this is next-level holiday cheer. You should appreciate my dedication.” You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. 

“If I open that spreadsheet and see formulas, I’m leaving.”

“Too late now,” he teases, spinning you around and pressing you gently back onto the bed. “You’re already committed to the program.” Your retort dies on your lips as Quinn leans down, his hands bracketing your hips, his face inches from yours. The mischievous sparkle in his eyes has softened, replaced by something warmer, more intimate.

“Quinn,” you start, your voice quieter now, less teasing. “What are you up to?”

“Just making sure we keep the spirit of the season alive,” he replies, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His lips ghost over yours, not quite kissing, just close enough to make your breath hitch. “ gift three should be a proper celebration, don’t you think?”

“Does it involve a pivot table?” you manage to ask, your voice shaky with barely contained laughter. He grins, his mouth finally claiming yours in a kiss that wipes away any further attempts at sarcasm. “No spreadsheets tonight,” he whispers against your lips. “Promise.”

You sigh dramatically as he pulls you closer, his weight warm and comforting. “I guess I can make an exception. But if I find a ‘Day 12’ PowerPoint presentation, we’re having a serious talk.”

Quinn chuckles, his laughter vibrating through your chest as he trails kisses along your jaw. “Noted. Now stop stalling. We’ve got a new holiday tradition to uphold.” Quinn’s lips catch yours again, his hands moving up to brace against either side of your head, his body slotting between your legs as he presses his hips to yours. 

“You better make this worth my while.” You say quickly, his hips pushing against yours at an agonising pace, his lips making their way down your jaw till the find the pulse point on your neck, sucking harshly against the skin. 

“It’ll be worth it.” He agrees, his hips speeding up their movements against yours, your skirt riding up to sit against your waist - the zipper of his jeans pressing deliciously against your clit as he thrusts, “But today is not that day.” He groans as he puts away, a soft wet patch on the front of his jeans, your legs falling open against the bed as you let out a long sigh. 

“This fucking edging is going to kill me.” You hiss, watching as Quinn lets out a maniacal laugh. 

“That’s wasn’t on the list.” He says quickly. 

“Oh my god, you actually have a spreadsheet, don’t you?” You groan in disbelief. 

“You don’t even know the extent I’ve gone to.” He says quickly, “We’ve barely even gotten started.” 

+

+

6th of December

You’re elbow-deep in a mixing bowl, trying to salvage the dough that Quinn somehow managed to over-flour, when he appears behind you, his arms looping lazily around your waist.

“Smells good in here,” he murmurs, nuzzling into the curve of your neck. His voice is warm, and the gentle pressure of his lips against your skin sends a shiver down your spine.

“I’m starting to get a trauma response every time you sneak up behind me.” You scold, throwing a playful glare over your shoulder. Quinn just smiles before asking, “What’re you making?” 

“It’s cookies,” you reply, trying to sound unimpressed even as your pulse quickens. “Not exactly groundbreaking.”

“Yeah, but you’re the one making them,” he counters smoothly, his hands slipping beneath your apron to rest on your hips.

“Flattery will not save you,” you warn, squirming slightly as his fingers start to knead into your sides. “You’re still on dough-duty.”

“Hmm, dough-duty,” Quinn muses, his tone teasing as he presses himself a little closer, his body warm against yours. “Sounds like you’re just trying to keep me distracted.”

You roll your eyes, ignoring the way your heart is pounding as you flick a bit of flour over your shoulder in his direction. “Distracted? You’re the one whos turning my kitchen into a war zone.”

Quinn laughs, dodging the flour with ease. “Okay, fair. But you’re not exactly playing fair either, baby. You know this apron does things to me.”

You glance down at the plain, slightly flour-dusted apron and raise an eyebrow. “It’s literally the least sexy thing I own.”

“Speak for yourself,” he replies, his hands sliding lower until they rest dangerously close to the curve of your backside. “I’m a simple man with simple tastes.”

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, trying to focus on rolling the dough out onto the counter. But the moment his lips press a soft kiss just behind your ear, your hands falter.

“Quinn, I swear—”

“Swear what?” he interrupts, his voice dropping into that low, teasing tone that always makes your knees weak. “You gonna stop me?”

You inhale sharply, turning your head to glare at him. But the smug grin on his face only makes your resolve crumble. “Yes,” you say, though it comes out far less convincing than you’d hoped.

“Oh, yeah?” He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “You sure about that?”

Before you can respond, his hands slide up your sides, his fingers grazing just beneath the edge of your sweater. You let out a soft gasp, the rolling pin slipping from your fingers and clattering onto the counter.

“Quinn,” you hiss, your tone a mix of exasperation and barely contained laughter. “I’m trying to bake here.”

“And I’m trying to make sure you stay properly motivated,” he counters, his grin widening as his hands trail back down, this time tugging lightly at the hem of your apron.

Your retort dies on your lips as he spins you around, pinning you gently against the counter. His hands plant themselves on either side of you, effectively trapping you in place as he leans in, his nose brushing against yours.

“Five days in,” he murmurs, his voice low and dripping with mischief. “Think you can handle seven more of this?”

Your breath catches, the air between you crackling with tension. “I’m starting to think I won’t survive.”

Quinn’s grin turns wicked, his lips ghosting over yours in the faintest of kisses. “Good,” he whispers, his hands sliding to your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Because I’ve got plans for you, baby. Big ones.”

Your heart races as he tilts his head, his mouth finally claiming yours in a kiss that’s slow and deliberate, leaving you breathless. Just as you’re about to lose yourself in the moment, he pulls back, his eyes sparkling with playful mischief.

“Now,” he says, stepping back and grabbing the rolling pin off the counter like he hadn’t just rendered you a breathless, flustered mess. “How about I actually help with these cookies?”

You gape at him, your body still buzzing from his touch as he starts flattening the dough with a look of pure innocence.

“You’re evil,” you mutter, crossing your arms as you try to collect yourself.

“And yet,” he says, flashing you a grin, “you keep letting me in the kitchen.” He continues to tease, spinning you back around to face the counter,  his hand dipping into the waist band of your pyjama pants, his fingers toying with the trim of your underwear before dipping beneath those too. 

“God, the surprising seems to be working.” He snorts, his fingers dipping between your folds, your knees almost buckling beneath you as his free hand splays against your stomach to hold your upright. “You’re soaking, baby.” You can hear the smile on his lips, his finger slipping up and down between your folds, the slick sound starting to feel the air. 

“Quinn, I swear to god if you don’t let me finish, I will turn you into a cookie.” You hiss, your hands stopping their motions to brace against the counter, your head falling forwards as he dips a tentative finger inside of you. 

“As long as you’re the one eating me up.” Quinn retorts, a second finger joining the first as he pumps in and out, your hands digging as far into the counter as they can, Quinn’s hand the only thing keeping you steady as his speeds up his movements, the wet sounds of his fingers filling the almost silent room. 

“Fuck, Quinn.” You hiss, your lips digging into your bottom lip as you throw your head back — “I’m so fucking close.” You feel his fingers start to slow as you clench around him. 

“You better keep fucking going.” You snarl, your hips thrusting forwards against his fingers, “I’m not kidding Quinn.” Quinn lets out another laugh before his fingers speed up again, your orgasm hitting you like a train after his last two attempts at teasing you. 

“I fucking hate you so much sometimes.” You pant, as you leans against the counter, watching as Quinn pulls his fingers from your pants, dipping them into his mouth. 

“Your cookie tastes great, baby.” 

+

+

9thth of December

The living room glows with the soft twinkle of Christmas lights, their reflection dancing in the windows against the dark December evening. You and Quinn are cocooned on the couch, sharing a thick blanket. Empty mugs of hot chocolate sit abandoned on the coffee table, remnants of marshmallows clinging to the rims. On the TV, Elf is mid-chaos, Buddy the Elf wreaking sugary havoc in a department store.

Quinn shifts closer, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “Why is it colder in here than outside?”

You shoot him a sidelong glance. “Because someone said turning on the heat ‘dulls the spirit of winter.’”

“I didn’t think I’d need a survival kit to get through it,” he mutters, his socked feet nudging against yours under the blanket.

“You’re the one who insists on authenticity,” you remind him, but you pull the blanket up higher, offering him a grudging sliver of extra warmth.

Quinn doesn’t stop there, though. His arm snakes around your shoulders, and before you can protest, he tugs you closer until your head rests against his chest.

“Really?” you ask, your voice dry as you tilt your head to look up at him.

“What? I’m freezing,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Besides, this is festive. Snuggling and all that.”

Your eyes narrow, but you don’t pull away. “Convenient excuse.”

“Maybe,” he admits, his grin widening. His other hand sneaks beneath the blanket, resting casually on your thigh, the warmth of his palm sinking through your leggings. The movie continues, but you’re barely paying attention now. Quinn’s thumb brushes idly against your leg, a small, repetitive motion that’s impossible to ignore. You shift slightly, but it only makes his grip more deliberate.

“Comfortable?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Very,” he replies, his voice dropping into something softer, more suggestive. “Why? Aren’t you?” You can feel the tension in the air shift. 

“Depends,” you say, keeping your tone neutral as you look back at the screen. “Are you planning to stay glued to my side all night?”

Quinn leans closer, his breath brushing against your ear. “Maybe. Is that a problem?” Your stomach twists, a mixture of annoyance and something harder to admit. You keep your eyes on the TV, but your body betrays you, leaning just slightly into his warmth.

“Only if you start stealing my share of the blanket,” you reply, injecting your voice with faux annoyance to mask the way your pulse has quickened.

Quinn chuckles softly, his lips grazing the edge of your temple in a way that feels far more deliberate than casual.

“Deal.”

For a moment, the only sound is Buddy the Elf shouting about Christmas spirit, but the tension between you lingers, humming beneath the surface.

When Quinn finally speaks, his tone is lighter, teasing, but the undercurrent is still there. “You know, I’d make a great elf. Probably even better than Buddy.”

You snort, grateful for the shift. “That’s bold. I’m not sure you’re up for the sugar diet.”

“I’d find a way to make it work,” he replies, his grin mischievous. “And I know I look good in tights.”

You roll your eyes, shoving at his shoulder lightly. “Delusional.”

“Maybe,” he concedes, his hand giving your thigh a playful squeeze before he withdraws it, much to your mixed relief and disappointment. “But you’d love it anyway.” Your laugh is softer now, the tension between the two of you growing as Quinn makes no moves to take anything further. 

“Quinn, what’s on your spreadsheet for gift three?” You ask curiously as you watch Buddy the Elf and his brother in a snowball fight. 

“Why?” Quinn questions back, a knowing smile growing on his face as he fingers continue their soft stroking against your legs, “You anticipating something?” You shoot him a quick glare before settling back against the couch your arms crossed tightly over your chest.

“Not anymore.” You mumble to yourself, Quinn raising his brow in surprise at your snark, smiling over at your one more time before he dips under the large blanket, sliding off the couch as to the floor in from of you. You shiver as Quinn’s breath ghosts over the damp patch on your panties, the contrast of his warm touch against the cool air setting your skin ablaze. The blanket overhead forms a cocoon, insulating the two of you from the rest of the world, but all you can focus on is the way his hands roam your thighs, spreading you open with a confidence that steals your breath.

“What are you doing?” you ask, though your voice comes out softer than intended, betraying the cocktail of anticipation and arousal coursing through you.

“Gift three,” Quinn replies, his voice muffled but laced with that familiar teasing edge. His fingers slide slowly up the curve of your legs, brushing over your hips as he pushes your nightgown higher, exposing more of your skin to his exploration. You try to maintain some semblance of composure, but the sensation of his touch is magnetic, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

When his fingers hook under the waistband of your panties, dragging them down inch by excruciating inch, you can’t stop the gasp that escapes you. The cool air hits your now-bared skin, a stark reminder of just how exposed you are. Quinn shifts, guiding your legs further apart as he kisses a slow path along the inside of your thigh, his lips soft and deliberate, each touch igniting sparks under your skin.

“Quinn,” you murmur, your voice a mix of exasperation and need. “You can’t just—”

“Can’t what?” he interrupts, his words brushing hot against your skin. “Show my girlfriend a little Christmas cheer?” There’s a hint of a smirk in his tone, but any retort you might have planned dies on your lips when his mouth finally meets you, his tongue making a slow, deliberate stroke that has your head tipping back against the couch.

Your fingers clutch at the blanket above him, seeking something to anchor you as he works. His tongue moves in practiced motions, alternating between firm, focused pressure and lighter, teasing flicks that leave you trembling. His hands remain on your thighs, holding you open with a firm yet gentle grip, grounding you as he explores every inch of you with a devotion that has your chest heaving.

“Oh my God,” you breathe, your hips lifting instinctively to meet his mouth. Quinn hums against you in response, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body. He takes his time, savouring every reaction he pulls from you, his movements both methodical and maddeningly sensual.

“Gift three,” he murmurs between strokes, his breath warm against your most sensitive skin, “is definitely shaping up to be my favourite.

You can’t hold back the soft moan that slips free, your fingers diving under the blanket to thread into his hair, urging him closer. He responds with a chuckle, the sound low and confident, before redoubling his efforts. His tongue moves in perfect rhythm, circling and stroking in ways that leave you teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body strung tight. “Keep watching the movie, baby.” He coos.

Your breathing grows ragged as the tension in your core builds, your legs trembling against his shoulders. “Quinn,” you gasp, his name a plea as the pleasure becomes too much to bear. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even falter, his mouth working you through every moment until the world splinters apart. You cry out, your body arching as waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you shuddering and breathless. Quinn stays with you, his hands stroking your thighs in a soothing rhythm as he presses a final, reverent kiss against your skin.

When he finally emerges from beneath the blanket, his hair is deliciously tousled, his lips glistening with evidence of his handiwork. That signature smirk is firmly in place as he climbs back onto the couch beside you, pulling you into his arms as if nothing unusual had happened.

“You’re ridiculous,” you murmur, your voice soft and shaky as you bury your face against his chest, the warmth of his body grounding you.

“And yet,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple, “you’re the one who puts up with  me.” You huff out a breathless laugh, your cheeks still burning as the festive chaos of Elf continues to play in the background, the two of you breathing a little harder as you turn towards him. 

“So is that it? You just eat me out and then we pretend like nothing happened?” You question, your brows furrowing as you lift your hand to swipe the moisture of your boyfriend’s mouth. 

“Yep.” He just smiles, leaning forwards to take your wet fingers into his mouth, sucking them off with a pop before leaning forwards to press a kiss against your cheek. “Don’t worry too much, gift four is going to be for both of us.” 

+

+

12th of December

The morning arrives with a soft dusting of snow blanketing the world outside, the frost glinting like powdered sugar on the windowpanes. Inside, the warmth of the living room is a stark contrast to the chill, the faint smell of pine from the Christmas tree mingling with the remnants of coffee and toasted bagels. Quinn stands at the kitchen counter, his hair still a little messy from sleep, as he fiddles with his phone.

"You’re on that thing again?" you tease from your spot on the couch, bundled up in an oversized sweater and fuzzy socks. "Plotting world domination or just reorganising your already over-planned spreadsheet?"

Quinn glances up, grinning that lopsided grin that always gets to you. "Neither. Just checking off ‘make girlfriend coffee’ from Day Nine’s list." He sets the phone down and gestures toward the steaming mug on the side table next to you. “I have to do some readjusting to make up for the road trips coming up.” He explains with a smile. 

You roll your eyes, though your lips twitch upward. "Convenient. What's next? Snow angels in the yard?"

"Not quite," he says, crossing the room with a deliberate saunter that makes your heart stutter. “Gift four is a bit more… hands-on."

You arch a brow, setting your mug down as he stops in front of you, his grin widening. "Hands-on how?"

Quinn doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reaches out, his fingers threading through your hair in a way that feels casual yet charged with unspoken intent. He gives a gentle tug, tilting your face up toward his, and your breath catches.

"Something like this," he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave as his thumb brushes against your jawline.

Your pulse quickens as the air between you grows thick with tension. "You’ve been watching too many rom-coms," you quip, though your voice wavers slightly.

"Maybe," he admits, his grin softening but his hold on your hair remaining firm. "But I don’t think Hugh Grant ever did this."

Before you can retort, Quinn leans down, his lips hovering just above yours. The moment stretches, electric and teasing, until he finally closes the distance. His kiss is slow but insistent, the kind that leaves you breathless and clutching at his shirt to stay anchored.

When he pulls back, he tugs on your hair just enough to make your head tilt back further, exposing the curve of your neck. “Gift four,” he says softly, his lips brushing against your skin, "is going to be hard and fast.”

Your laugh is shaky, a mix of nervousness and anticipation. "Is that your way of saying I should be worried?"

Quinn chuckles, his breath warm against your collarbone. "Not worried. Excited."

Quinn’s lips curl into a teasing smile as he pulls back, his fingers still gently wrapped around a strand of your hair. You feel a spark of both irritation and excitement at the way he’s controlling the moment, making it feel like time is stretching just for the two of you. His grin never falters as he studies your face, waiting for your reaction.

"Excited, huh?" he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "I guess you’ll find out soon enough."

You swallow, feeling the heat crawl up your neck. There's something about the way he's looking at you—like he's already imagining every moment ahead.

"You’re insufferable," you retort, trying to sound more confident than you feel. "You can’t just drag me into this with vague promises."

Quinn chuckles softly, but there’s an edge to it. He’s enjoying the control, the way you’re practically trembling under his gaze.

"Oh, I think I can," he replies smoothly. "Because when it’s number four, the rules are a little different." He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he stands up, extending a hand toward you with a look that is half challenge, half invitation.

"Come on," he says, his voice dropping just a little. "Let’s take this somewhere a little more... private." Your heart skips a beat, the mix of nerves and curiosity making your pulse race. You hesitate for a moment, but then the sight of his unrelenting grin has you pushing off the couch, your hand slipping into his. He leads you through the kitchen, his fingers intertwined with yours, the tension palpable with each step. The rest of the world seems to fade, leaving only the soft sounds of your breathing and the weight of Quinn’s touch. As you reach the bedroom door, he pauses. His thumb brushes over the back of your hand, sending a shiver up your spine. He looks at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment, as if checking that you’re ready.

"Are you sure you want to keep going?" he asks softly, but there’s no mistaking the way his words hold an edge of amusement.mYou swallow, fighting the urge to back down. There’s something magnetic about him right now, something about the way he’s drawing you in with such ease, making you feel like you’re walking toward something inevitable.

"Just get in here already," you snap, the teasing now on your lips. Quinn’s smile deepens, and with one smooth motion, he pulls the door open, guiding you inside. The quiet of the room feels charged, as though the moment itself is holding its breath, waiting for what comes next. The door clicks shut behind you, the sound echoing in the stillness of the room. You turn, but before you can say anything else, Quinn is right there—close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. His hands find your waist, pulling you toward him with a force that makes your breath catch.

You look up at him, your heart pounding as you meet his eyes—dark and intent, full of a desire that makes the air between you feel thick and heavy.

“You wanted to know what your gift is all about,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, barely above a whisper. Before you can respond, he’s kissing you, his lips crashing against yours with a desperate hunger that takes you completely by surprise. There’s no teasing this time, no games. Just the raw, urgent need that’s been simmering between you both.

His hands roam, one settling at the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair as he pulls you even closer. You feel the firm press of his body against yours, the solid warmth of him that makes it impossible to think straight. Your back meets the wall with a soft thud, but Quinn doesn’t stop—his lips moving over yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless, your hands instinctively gripping at his shirt.

You tilt your head back, gasping for air as his mouth moves down to your neck, his kisses hot and urgent, like he can’t get enough. His free hand traces the curve of your body, his touch leaving trails of fire wherever it lands. It’s almost too much, but you don’t want it to stop.

“Quinn...” you breathe, the name slipping from your lips in a mix of desire and need. He groans softly at the sound of your voice, his teeth grazing your skin as he leaves another trail of kisses along your collarbone. His hand moves lower, finding the hem of your sweater, pushing it up slowly, deliberately, as if giving you time to pull away, but you don’t. You stay frozen, your heart racing as the tension between you grows thicker.

His lips find yours again in a desperate, needy kiss, as if he’s finally giving in to something he’s been holding back. There’s no softness now—only the heat of the moment, the weight of everything you’ve both been holding back crashing into the space between you. His body presses you harder into the wall, the raw intensity of the kiss leaving you breathless and craving more.

“You’re so damn distracting,” Quinn murmurs against your lips, his voice rough with barely restrained hunger.

“You started it,” you manage, a teasing note in your voice despite the pounding of your heart. He chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating through you, before his lips find yours again, hungry and fierce. There’s no space between you now, no thoughts beyond the electric pull between you.  

“I need you as wet as possible.” Quinn murmurs against your, his hips pressing against yours as you try to grind against him wanting any relief you can find. “I want to be able to slip in easily.” His words are hot against your skin as he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a soft strip of black fabric. 

“I was going to save this for gift five but I think we can push it forwards a little.” Quinn says quietly as he steps away from you, your throat bobbing at the sight of the blindfold “Do you want it?” He asks an eyebrow raised as he watches you glance between him and the blindfold, you nod slowly Quinn breaking out in a broad smile. “Get on the bed then.” He says quickly, your oversized shirt swaying against your thighs as you shuffle over to the bed, perching on the edge. 

“Hands and knees, baby.” He corrects, your head just nodding as you climb further onto the bed, settling into the position. Quinn slips behind you, reaching over to pull the blindfold across your eyes. You let out a stuttered breath as your eyesight is taken from you, your fingers gripping the bedsheet beneath you. 

“Do you think you’re wet for me?” He asks softly, your head nodding as your words escape you. “How wet?” He questions. 

“Dripping.” You respond, your teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as you feel Quinn hands slide up your sides, dragging your t-shirt up and over your ass, exposing your definitely damp underwear to him, your back arching slightly as his warm palms dig into your sides. 

“I think you’re ready.” He agrees, his hands smoothing back over your ass before roughly ripping your underwear, ripping them down your legs till they sit at your knees, your bare ass and pussy exposed to him. “Perfect.” You hear him mumble as you hear further ruffling of fabric, and the sound of plastic being ripped open. “Tell me if you’re getting overwhelmed.” He whispers, one hand rubbing up and down your spine as you feel his cock poke against your entrance, sliding through your wetness a few times, a soft groan leaving you as he slides inside. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groans, both of his hands digging into your hips as he pulls out and pumps back in, his movements slow and precise. “I’ve missed being inside of you.” He adds, your body shivering as his speed increases slightly. 

“Me too.” You hum, your teeth gritting as you feel one of Quinns hands leave you hips, the fingers just barely grazing up your back before the fiddle with the ends of your hair. 

“Am I not pleasing you enough, princess?” Quinn asks, his hand grabbing a chunk of your hair, wrenching your head back, as he leans over your body, his hips pausing in the movements, bottomed out inside of you. “Say it again.” He grumbles, littering soft kisses against your neck as he waits. 

Dominant Quinn was never something you were used to. Your boyfriend usually preferring to keep your intimate moments soft and gentle - apart from the occasional angry fuck. “I said I miss you being inside of me.” You repeat with a little more conviction, “It feels so good.” You add quickly, seeming to please Quinn as he pulls himself back into a standing position his hips slamming into you at a furious pace as he wraps your hair around his hand, keeping a tight hold as your arms collapse out from under you, soft whimpers leaving you as his free hand wraps around gently rubbing against your clit, your pussy clenching around him desperately as you ride out your high. 

Quinn comes soon after, his body falling on top of yours as he whispers soft praise in you ear, pressing kisses against your hair before pulling out and discarding the condom. “I’ll only be gone for a few days and then the twelves days of christmas will be back.” Quinn jokes, pulling your shirt back down over your hips as you roll to face him, a light smile on your face. 

“That’s not what I’m going to miss.” You coo, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before sliding off the mattress, retrieving your underwear from the floor, “But maybe one more round before you have to go?” You tease, Quinn wasting no time in leaping off the mattress. 

+

+

17th of December

“Yeah I’m on the way to the arena now to pick you up.” You say into your speaker - the phone currently connected to your car’s bluetooth - Quinn’s voice carrying through. 

“Okay they said the bus should be there in about thirty minutes.” Quinn says with a long sigh - the Canucks had lost their game earlier today and to say Quinn was disappointed was an understatement. “So, mr spreadsheet do we have anything on our agenda for tonight?” You say quickly, trying to switch the attention to something other then the loss they had earlier in the night. You clock said it was around 2am in the morning as tired as you were you knew Quinn would be ten times more exhausted. 

“I did have plans but the high stick might change somethings.” Quinn huffs, his words mumbled more than usual. 

“Quinn we don’t need your mouth to have fun.” You coo, as you can almost see the smile spreading across his face as he lets out a soft chuckle followed by a sharp hiss. “How bad is it?” You ask next, you had watched the game and has seen the blood splattering on the ice after Quinn’s high stick to the face - he had been messaging you from the locker room while they stitched him up, telling you not to worry but the furious expression on his face when he returned to the game was enough to tell you that it hurt. 

“I have to go, coach is about to give us a speech.” Quinn chuckles lowly into the phone, and you promise you’ll be waiting once the bus arrives at the arena. The two of you hang up, your car beginning to play your music again as you make the short drive to the arena, parking in the underground lot where the bus usually dropped them off after a road trip - scrolling through your phone as you wait for your boyfriends arrival. 

It wasn’t long before the bus pulled into the lot, its tires hissing against the pavement. You glanced up from your phone just as the doors opened and the team began filing out. A few players waved at you as they passed, murmuring tired goodnights. Then, finally, you spotted Quinn.

He moved slower than usual, his bag slung over one shoulder, his other hand tucked into the pocket of his jacket. His head was down, the brim of his hat shadowing his face. As he approached the car, you got out to meet him, your heart squeezing when you caught a glimpse of his swollen, stitched-up lip.

“Hey,” you said softly, trying to keep your tone light. “How’s my favourite spreadsheet nerd?” Quinn’s gaze flicked up to meet yours briefly before darting away. 

“Still in one piece,” he muttered, his voice quiet and a little raspy. You reached out to take his bag, and he hesitated before letting you, his fingers brushing yours for a moment. He stood there awkwardly, his shoulders hunched slightly, as though he were trying to make himself smaller.

“Quinn,” you said gently, stepping closer. He looked up at you fully then, and the vulnerability in his expression nearly broke you. “Let me see.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbled, tugging his hat lower.

“Quinn,” you repeated, a little firmer this time. You raised a hand to his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly against his skin. He stiffened at first but didn’t pull away. “Please?” He sighed, a quiet, resigned sound, and let you tilt his face toward the faint glow of the overhead lights. Your heart clenched at the sight of the angry red stitches running along his top lip.

“Oh, babe,” you murmured, your voice soft and full of concern. “Does it hurt?”

“It’s not that bad,” he said, but the way his eyes shifted told you otherwise.

“You don’t have to play tough with me,” you said, your thumb now tracing the line of his jaw. “You’re allowed to say it hurts.”

Quinn’s ears turned a little pink, and he ducked his head, clearly embarrassed. “It’s just...ugly,” he muttered. “You don’t need to look at it.”

Your heart melted at his words. “Quinn Hughes,” you said, stepping even closer, “you could be missing a tooth and have a black eye, and you’d still be the most handsome guy I’ve ever seen.”

A small, reluctant smile tugged at his good side of his mouth. “You’re just saying that.”

“I mean it,” you insisted, your hand moving to his hair, your fingers brushing softly through the strands. “But we can clean you up when we get home. Deal?” Quinn finally met your eyes again, and though he still looked a little self-conscious, there was a warmth there that made your chest feel light. “Deal,” he said quietly.

You smiled, leaning up to press a feather-light kiss to his temple, careful not to jostle him. “Come on, let’s get you home.” The drive home is almost silent, Quinn sitting in the passenger seat, his head pressed against the cool window, his hand gripping yours as the radio sings soft christmas carols, the snow falling outside the car. 

“So what was going to be your plan for gift eight?” You ask, your fingers squeezing against Quinns as you pull the car into your parking spot - the two of you releasing each other to slide out of the car and make your way to the elevator. 

“Nothing I could partake in tonight anyway.” Quinn sulks, his hand finding yours again. 

“You’re right, maybe you’re better off not participating in anything at the moment.” You laugh and Quinn huffs a quiet laugh, the sound a little muffled by his injury. “You’re right. Probably not my smartest move.”

The elevator dings, and you both step out, heading toward your apartment door. Once inside, the warmth of the space envelops you, chasing away the lingering chill from outside. Quinn sets his bag down by the door, his movements slow and deliberate, and you can see the exhaustion settling over him like a heavy blanket.

“Go have a shower, I’ll pack up your stuff.” You say quietly, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek before pushing him towards the bathroom. “I’ve got it.” You reassure him.

Quinn hesitated for a moment, glancing over his shoulder at you as he made his way toward the bathroom. "You sure you don’t mind?"

"Of course not," you replied with a soft smile. "Go on, I’ll be right here when you’re done."

As the sound of water began echoing through the apartment, you busied yourself tidying up the small messes Quinn had left in his usual spots—his sneakers haphazardly kicked off near the door, his coat draped over the back of the couch. You stacked his belongings neatly and set out a fresh pair of sweats and one of his soft hoodies on the bed. But as you finished, the quiet worry bubbling in your chest drew you toward the bathroom.

The steam wafting out from under the door carried the faint scent of Quinn’s body wash, and you knocked softly.

“Baby?”

"Yeah?" His voice was a little clearer now, though still tired.

"You doing okay in there?"

There was a pause before he answered. "Yeah, I’m good." But you knew him better than that.

Without waiting for an invitation, you pushed the door open a crack. The warmth of the bathroom enveloped you, the mirror fogged, and the sound of water pattering against the tile filled the air. Through the frosted glass, you could make out Quinn’s silhouette, his shoulders hunched as he stood under the spray.

"You sure?It’s been like half an hour?” you asked, stepping inside and closing the door softly behind you. The faint click of the latch drew his attention, and he turned his head slightly, just enough to see you through the glass.

"You don’t have to—"

"I want to," you interrupted gently, already peeling off your sweater and jeans. He watched you for a moment longer before nodding and turning back to the water. When you slid open the door to step in, the warm water hit your skin, making you shiver slightly before you adjusted. Quinn glanced at you over his shoulder, his eyes soft but tired. You reached out to brush a hand lightly over his back, feeling the tension there.

"Hey," you said softly, your voice barely audible over the water. “Give me the loofa.” He didn’t protest as you grabbed the bottle of body wash and worked it into a lather, your hands gentle as they moved over his shoulders and down his back. He let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, the tightness in his posture easing under your touch.

Quinn lets out a soft sigh as he leans his head forwards against the wall, letting you works the suds over his body, your fingers replacing the loofa on occasion to push against the tight muscles, blossoming bruises in random spots on his soft skin. “I know something that might make you feel better.” You coo, stepping back as Quinn turns around a frown on his face, the warm water running down his chest. 

“What do you mea— oh, oh.” Quinn stutters as you drop to your knees. Quinns eyes are wide as he watches you reach upwards, your hand slowly grazing over his semi hard cock as you wrap your hand around it, pumping it slowly as it hardens fully. You glance up at him as you take him into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks until you feel him touch the back of your throat, his hand bracing on either side of the shower as he lets out a string of curses. 

“Fuck.” He curses as you bob your head on his dick, your mouth coming off with a pop as you glide your tongue up the underside, Quinn thighs trembling slightly as you take him back in your mouth. You hand brace on his thighs as you take as much of him as you can fit into your mouth before pulling back and repeating the process. “Your mouth feels so good.” He groans, his green eyes flashing as he watches your hand wrap around his cock, pumping in the same way your hand was, the shower still running over his back as you glance up at him. 

“Come in my mouth, Quinn.” You whisper, letting your mouth fall open, as you pump him faster, his hips stuttering forwards as the precum begins to leak from his tip, your thumb collecting it as using it as lubricant as your squeeze the base of his dick, Quinn letting out a low groan as his hips jerk one more time, his cum landing on your tongue as you leans forwards to clean him up. 

“You know Santa is watching as I think that would put you on the naughty list.” Quinn jokes with a tired smile, wincing once again as it pulls on his stitches. You smile back, pushing yourself up from the floor, Quinn’s hands reaching out to steady you. 

“Well I guess you’re going to have to write him a letter about how super duper nice I’ve been this year.” You tease back, stealing the still soapy loofa from besides him to wash of any remnants of your showering activities. “Feeling any better?” You ask, with a quirk of your eyebrow, Quinn’s head nodding quickly. 

“So much better.” 

+

+

20th of December 

“We just need one more thing for your brothers and then we’re done.” You say quickly, glancing down at the shopping list you were holding. “Luke still requested the apple headphones.” You stifle a laugh as Quinn lets out a long groan, his hands tightly knotted in the back of your sweater as you make your way to the Apple Store. 

“I don’t understand why he wants them for christmas, he makes enough money to buy them himself.” Quinn complains, and you nod in agreement but find Lukes innocence around christmas refreshing compared to the rest of the families requests. 

“Yeah but we know how Luke is with money, he prefers to pretend it doesn’t exist because it just makes him nervous.” You explain, nodding a quick hello to the worker at the entrance as you drag your boyfriend over to the display of headphones. “He said he wanted the blue?” You say, reaching towards the metallic coloured headphone looking over them before comparing them to the photo the youngest Hughes has sent. 

Quinns hand tugs on the back of your sweater as the shop worker approaches, his free hand making quick work of pulling his hood up and over his head, pulling the cap he was wearing further down to hide his face better. 

“Hello, is there anything I can help you with today?” The worker asks quickly, his gaze shooting between you and your now criminal looking boyfriend. 

“Uh, we were hoping to get a pair of these sky blue AirPod max, it’s for my brother-in-law.” You explain quickly the workers eyes lighting up as he nods quickly, moving to punch some buttons in the tablet in his hand. 

“I’ll make sure we have one out the back for you.” He says quickly, hovering silently as he waits for the response on his iPad. “You know your boyfriend seems really familiar.” 

You freeze for a moment, Quinn’s hand tightening on the back of your sweater, pulling you slightly closer to him as if that could make him blend into the surroundings. His posture straightens, and he ducks his head a little more, eyes narrowing at the worker.

“Oh, uh, yeah. He’s a—” You start, but Quinn’s quiet voice cuts you off.

“Can we just get the headphones?” His tone is polite but curt, and it’s obvious he’s trying to avoid attention. The worker, however, seems not to pick up on Quinn’s discomfort, his eyes still flicking back and forth between the two of you.

“Sorry,” the worker continues, his voice a little too loud now, “it’s just, you really look like Quinn Hughes. The hockey player, right?” Quinn’s face tightens slightly. He doesn’t say anything at first, his eyes flicking to you quickly for a silent moment, before turning back to the worker with a small, forced smile. You can see him trying to mask the irritation behind his eyes, but it’s clear he’s not in the mood for attention today.

“Yeah,” he says flatly, rubbing his hand over the cut on his lip absentmindedly. The large, red gash across his upper lip is still healing, and it’s clear he’s not thrilled with the idea of having it photographed or discussed.

“Oh wow, that’s so cool! Can I get a picture with you? My girlfriend’s gonna freak out when I show her!” The worker says excitedly, completely missing the discomfort radiating off Quinn. You feel Quinn stiffen beside you. He shifts his weight uneasily, glancing briefly at the worker before looking back at you. He’s clearly trying to avoid drawing any more attention to himself. The large cut on his lip is still fresh, and the last thing he wants right now is to have a picture taken that could end up all over social media.

“Umm. now is not really a good time.” You say quickly, “with the high stick and everything he’s a little shy.” You whisper as you lean towards the worker, the worker nods quickly tucking his phone back into his pocket sending Quinn an apologetic smile. 

“My bad, your headphones should be up at the counter when you’re ready.” The worker says quickly rushing away as you turn to Quinn, who’s pouting as he had been all day. 

“Suck it up princess, we’re almost done.” You say, dragging him towards the counter, the man saying nothing but passing you his credit card as the cashier rings up the present.  Quinn doesn’t say anything as you finish paying for the headphones, but his posture stays tense, his lips still curled into a faint scowl. The cashier hands you the bag with the carefully wrapped headphones inside, and you shoot Quinn a sympathetic look. 

“Almost there, I swear,” you mutter, gently tugging on his sleeve as you make your way toward the exit.

Quinn grumbles in response, but it’s softer this time, and his hand loosens from the back of your sweater. He looks over at you, his brow furrowing just a little. “Why do we even bother with these shopping trips? You know I hate them.” You laugh, shaking your head.

 “Because it’s Christmas, and you're stuck with me. Besides, it’s part of the whole thing—giving, shopping, the stress, the fake smiles.” You nudge him playfully. “And you do love getting gifts for people, deep down.” Quinn hums in thought, but doesn’t argue as you both make your way toward the next shop on your list. His hand slips into yours, his earlier discomfort forgotten as you settle into the rhythm of your shared Christmas errands. The next store is a local record shop, which Quinn had insisted you add to your list despite the fact it was not part of the original plan. As you enter, the familiar smell of vinyl and incense hits you, and Quinn’s eyes light up, his earlier frustration momentarily forgotten.

“There we go,” he mutters to himself, as if the entire world had righted itself with the simple presence of music. You roll your eyes with a smile, watching as he gravitates toward the “New Releases” section with that spark of genuine interest that only comes with a record store visit.

“Just one album, right?” You call after him, hands on your hips. He turns, offering you a small, sheepish grin. “Maybe two,” he says innocently, but you know him well enough to understand it’ll be more like five by the time he’s done browsing. After a few minutes, you find yourself scanning the racks with him, picking up random albums you know you won’t buy but enjoying the process all the same.  You finally pull out a few albums that you think Luke might appreciate and hand them to Quinn, who takes them without question, his brows knitting together as he examines each one carefully. 

“This one’s good, right?” You ask, holding up a record by one of Jack’s favourite bands. He shrugs noncommittally, though his smile grows a little. 

“Could be worse,” he replies dryly, before he adds, “Jack’s not hard to buy for. He’ll love it.”

You beam. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“I guess,” Quinn murmurs, slipping the vinyls into a bag and leading the way to the counter. By the time you’re both done, it’s dark outside, the streetlights casting a golden glow over the snow that’s started to fall more heavily. You loop your arm through his as you step out into the cold, making your way toward the car.

“So,” you start, glancing at him with a mischievous smile, “now that we’ve officially survived the shopping trip, I’ve got one more question.”

Quinn’s eyes flick to you, narrowing slightly. “What’s that?”

You glance at the bag of headphones in your hand, then back at him. “What are you getting me for Christmas?” Quinn shrugs his shoulders, as you both slide into the car, doing up your seatbelts before Quinn pulls out of your parking spot. 

“Why? My gifts so far haven’t been good enough?” Quinn questions teasingly, “I might have one you can open a few days early?” He suggests, your face lighting up in excitement, Quinn had learnt early on in your relationship to prepare a gift for you to open early to help you get through the Christmas Day without snooping. Last year he had let you open a box set of the book series you had been talking about for weeks - it kept you occupied all the way to christmas. 

“Oh, is it something fun?” You ask.

“You could say that.” He agrees, quickly adding, “Its small and pink and goes buzz.” He lets out a soft chuckle at his own inside joke your head spinning with ideas until it hits you. 

“Quintin Jerome Hughes, did you get me a vibrator for christmas?”  Quinn lets out a startled laugh, nearly swerving the car as he tries to compose himself. His eyes flicker to you, wide with a mix of amusement and embarrassment.

 “What? No, I—” He cuts himself off, glancing back at the road, and you can practically hear his thoughts racing. “I didn’t get you that... but maybe I did get you something that could buzz, if you know what I mean.” You raise an eyebrow, unable to suppress your smirk. You know that tone. The mischievous, half-embarrassed one that only shows up when Quinn's being playfully coy.

“Quinn Hughes, did you really just say that?” You lean forward, eyes narrowing in teasing disbelief. “Are you telling me that the early Christmas gift you’ve been hinting at is… a vibrator?” Quinn’s cheeks flush a deep shade of red, and he makes a hasty glance at the rearview mirror, then back at the road.

 “I—uh—I mean, I didn’t say it was that, but you’re not exactly wrong.” You burst into laughter, head thrown back as you catch a glimpse of his sheepish smile. He’s trying, and failing, to act casual. The tension in his shoulders tells you all you need to know—he’s definitely embarrassed, but he’s also clearly enjoying the effect his little tease is having on you.

“Quinn, I swear.” You laugh, nudging his shoulder playfully with yours. “I never would’ve guessed. I thought you were going to be all romantic and give me something sentimental—like, a photo album or something sweet. But no, you’re giving me a buzz-worthy surprise.”

“Hey, I am being romantic,” Quinn grumbles, though you can hear the hint of a smile in his voice. “It’s just… well, it’s a practical gift. You’ll see. You will appreciate it, trust me.”

“Uh-huh.” You can’t help but giggle, the idea of Quinn Hughes—this big, tough hockey player—giving you a vibrator as a Christmas present making the entire situation even more entertaining.  Quinn shoots you a quick glance, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.

The rest of the drive is filled with light-hearted teasing and jokes, both of you trying to stay serious but failing miserably in the face of the absurdity of it all. Finally, Quinn pulls into your apartment building’s parking lot, his hands still gripping the wheel.

“Alright,” Quinn says, glancing over at you. “Before you get too excited, I need you to promise me something.”

“What’s that?” you ask, your curiosity piqued, your mind already racing with the possibilities.

“No spoiling it, okay?” He lets out a nervous chuckle. “I want you to really open it without expecting anything else. Just... let it be a surprise.” You smile sweetly, though your mind is already a whirlwind of teasing ideas. 

“Fine. I promise. But you know, I am really curious now. It’s hard to wait when you’ve already dropped that kind of hint.”

Quinn’s posture relaxes slightly, though you can tell he’s still not entirely sure if you’re going to let him get away with it. You both exit the car and walk toward the door, the tension between you playful, electric. Once inside, Quinn quickly heads to the kitchen, pulling out a small gift bag from behind his back. The pink tissue paper peeking out from the top is unmistakable. He hands it over with a careful smile. 

“Okay, go ahead,” he says, his voice a little quieter now, like he’s finally letting go of the buildup. “Merry early Christmas.”

You take the bag, a mix of amusement and anticipation buzzing through you. You peek inside, feeling something smooth and compact, wrapped in soft tissue paper. Your fingers trail over the shape, and you pull it out slowly, eyes widening as you pull the vibrator from the bag. 

Quinn’s cheeks flush again as he watches your reaction. “I swear, it’s not as weird as it sounds. I thought... you’d enjoy it. It’s a good one. I—uh—did my research.” You glance down at the vibrator in your hand before looking back up at your boyfriend. “It’s supposed to strap to my leg so you can— you know.” He begins to explain, pointing to the straps on the toy before down to his thigh, his muscles bulging through the fabric of his jeans. 

“Quinn, what was your plan for me to use this?” 

“I just thought maybe we could do something a little out of the ordinary?” He explains, rubbing the back of his neck, his curls falling in front of his forehead as he reaches forwards and snatches your new toy out of your hand. “If you don’t want it then don’t use it.” He says, the famous Hughes pout back on his face. 

“Who said anything about not wanting it? I just never thought you’d buy a vibrator for christmas, it’s just a little out of the ordinary.” You chuckle, stepping towards him your arms rising up to hang over his shoulders, tilting your head up to capture his lips in a long kiss, his hands immediately finding their usual spot around your waist, his lips chasing after yours as you pull away. 

“Show me how it works.” You whisper against his mouth, the firm material of his stitches rubbing against your lips. You pull away further from him, your hands trailing down to intertwine with his. "After all, you went through all the trouble to pick it out, didn’t you?”

Quinn's breath hitches slightly, and you catch the faintest flicker of a grin tugging at his lips. He sets the small toy back onto the counter and gives you a look—a mix of playful exasperation and genuine affection. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

You shrug innocently, your fingers brushing against the edge of his hoodie. “I mean, you’re the one who said it was practical,” you counter, your voice dripping with amusement. “I’m just trying to see if you really know how to use it.” His cheeks redden even more, and he bites back a laugh, shaking his head. 

“Alright,” he mutters, grabbing the vibrator again and fiddling with the straps. “Let’s just figure this out together. But if you start laughing too much, I’m taking it back.” You stifle a giggle as Quinn reads the tiny instruction booklet that came with the toy, his brow furrowing in concentration. His serious expression as he tries to decipher the diagram is endearing, and you can’t help but lean into his side, resting your head on his shoulder.

“You’re really committed to this, aren’t you?” you tease softly, your laughter breaking through when he gives you a mock glare.

“Of course I am,” he replies, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I told you—I wanted to do something different this year. And, well...” He trails off, holding up the vibrator with a slight smirk. “Mission accomplished?” You burst out laughing, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him closer. 

“Definitely accomplished. And for the record, I love it. You’re full of surprises, Quinn Hughes.” He ducks his head, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before glancing back at the toy. “Alright, let’s figure this out. But next year, I’m getting you something less... complicated.” Quinn works out the instructions quickly, strapping the new toy to his thigh, the purple silicone starting to look more tempting by the second. 

“Quinn.” You say softly as he continues to read through the instruction manual. 

“Hmm.” He hums in response, his eyes not leaving the small plastic booklet. You start by pulling off your shirt, shuffling your leggings down your legs next, your underwear remaining in place as you tap on his shoulder, his gaze shooting up at you the booklet dropping from his hands. 

“Go sit on the couch.” Quinn doesn’t hesitate making his way over to the couch sinking into the cushions as he watches you approach, his legs opening slightly as you stand in front of him — your hands slowly pulling your panties down your legs as you lift your legs to straddle his left thigh, sitting down ontop of the silicone now strapped to his leg, the cold of the toy making you shiver in delight. 

“Show me how it works, Quinn.” You say softly, bracing your hands on his shoulders, as his eyes lock on yours, your boyfriend clearing his throat before looking down at the app on his phone, fiddling with the screen until he finds the on button. 

“It had ten speeds.” Quinn says softly, the soft vibrations almost instantly melting your body as they tease along your slit. “They recommend riding the toy.” Quinn coughs, one hand gripping his unlocked phone the other gripping the front of the couch cushion. You nod at his instructions slowly moving your hips back and forth along the toy as Quinn bumps up the vibrations by two levels. 

Quinn watches you ride the toy for a few moments before bumping up the speed again, his legs tensing as you let out a soft groan. “Shit, that feels good.” You whisper, your nails digging into Quinns shoulders as you throw your head back, your breathing becoming heavier, your tits pushing towards Quinns face. 

“Can you —” Quinn hesitates, his throat bobbing around the lump, “Can you take of your bra?” He asks softly, almost embarrassed. 

“You’ve got hands” You hiss as he bumps the speed up again, your hips starting to loose their rhythm. Quinn takes your response and runs with it, his phone dropping to the couch besides him, his hands reaching for the back clasps of your bra, pulling the fabric away from your chest as fast as he can manage letting your tits falling free, as you glance down at your boyfriend you can see the ways he’s drooling over watching you move against him. 

“You can touch them you know - this isn’t a hands off month or anything.” You snark, smiling as Quinn wastes no time in latching his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking on the sensitive flesh as his other hand reaches up to cup the lonely one, his lips leave your nipples pressing kisses along your chest before latching onto the next one, your fingers digging into the hair at the base of his neck as you let out a long moan. 

“Speed it up Quinn.” You grumble, yours hips moving frantically now as his kisses make their way up your neck, his hands fiddling with his phone, pressing the screen a few times as the vibrator maxes out. 

“Oh god save me.” You hum, your eyes squeezing shut as your move your hips desperately, Quinns fingers pinching your chin as he lowers your head down to his, his lips capturing yours in an antagonising and slow kiss. Both his hands helping guide your hips agains his thigh as you moan against his mouth. 

“Fuck, I’m so close.” You grumble against his mouth as he kisses you again, his leg bouncing slightly as your grind against it, a small squeal leaving you as your orgasm hits, Quinn’s hand holding you down against the vibrator as you try to escape, the feeling overwhelming as your let out another high pitched moan trying to break free of Quinn hold. 

“God can’t find you now.” Quinn teases as he slowly lowers the vibrations on the toy until he turns it off completely, your wetness running down to toy and soaking into his jeans - your body collapsing into his chest as you let out ragged breaths. “Maybe switching things up wasn’t such a bad idea after all.” 

+

+

25th of December - Christmas Day

“Merry Christmas everyone!” You cheer as you and Quinn walk into the house - the Millers holding the annual christmas get together for those without a larger Family to see over the two day break. You drop the presents you had bought for Quinn’s teammates by the tree before rushing into the kitchen to give quick hello’s to the hosts of the day. 

“The matching shirts are amazing.” You say to Natalie as you take in the small family in their christmas outfits, the same ones they had worn on the christmas card they had sent out the friends and family. 

“What about you and Quinn looking great as always.” Natalie coos right back, Quinn and JT giving each other a quick hug and a grumble ‘merry christmas’ before joining the two of you near the counter. 

“Merry Christmas,” Quinn murmurs, leaning in to kiss the top of your head as you chat with Natalie. The warmth of his affection makes your cheeks flush, though you’re quick to hide it behind a laugh.

“Alright, let’s see this spread,” Quinn says, stepping away to inspect the food table, and JT follows with a knowing smirk.

Natalie gives you a wink. “You two are adorable. Don’t let him get too caught up with JT’s nonsense, though. Last year, they spent half the night debating hockey stats instead of mingling.”

You grin. “I’ll keep an eye on him.” As the party flows on, you and Quinn find yourselves swept into small conversations—catching up with friends, laughing at old stories, and enjoying the cozy chaos of the Miller household. The sound of Christmas music and the hum of happy chatter fill the air, but your focus keeps wandering back to Quinn. Every shared glance and subtle touch sets your heart racing, and you can tell he feels it too.

At one point, you catch him standing near the Christmas tree, looking at you with a soft smile that sends a shiver down your spine. He nods subtly toward the hallway. Your pulse quickens as you follow his lead, slipping away from the crowd unnoticed.

Quinn takes your hand, guiding you down the hall and into the small, dimly lit bathroom. The door clicks shut behind you, and before you can say anything, his lips are on yours—warm, urgent, and full of everything he’s been holding back all evening.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all night,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands resting on your hips as he pulls you closer.

You smile against his mouth, threading your fingers into his hair. “I was wondering how long you’d hold out.”

His chuckle is low and soft as he leans back to look at you, his gaze filled with affection and mischief. “Merry Christmas, baby,” he whispers before kissing you again, his hands roaming your back as the world outside the bathroom fades away.

Time seems to stop as you lose yourselves in the quiet, stolen moment—just the two of you, tangled together in the warmth of your love, while the party hums on outside.

Quinn’s hands slide up your sides, his touch firm yet careful, as if he’s savouring every second of having you this close. The kiss deepens, his lips parting yours in a way that sends sparks racing through your veins. You feel his breath hitch when you tug gently at his hair, and the soft groan he lets out only fuels the fire growing between you.

Without breaking the kiss, he moves his hands down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto the bathroom counter. The cool surface contrasts with the heat of your body, making you gasp against his lips.

“Too much?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, his forehead resting against yours for a moment as he searches your face.

“Not even close,” you whisper, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw before pulling him back in. His hands grip your thighs firmly, spreading them just enough so he can step closer, his hips pressing against yours.

The kiss grows hungrier, more desperate, as if the world outside has completely disappeared. His fingers tease the hem of your dress, his fingers tickling the soft skin of your thighs. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine, and you press yourself closer to him, your legs wrapping loosely around his hips.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he breathes against your lips, his hands roaming higher under your sweater.

“You started this,” you tease, your voice shaky but filled with a grin.

He chuckles, leaning down to kiss along your jaw, then your neck, his lips and teeth sending shockwaves through you with every touch. Your head tilts back against the mirror, your hands clutching at his shoulders, desperate to keep him close.

A sudden burst of laughter from the party beyond the bathroom door jolts you both back to reality for a moment. Quinn freezes, his lips still pressed to your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin.

“We’re being way too loud,” he whispers, though his smirk suggests he’s anything but sorry.

You laugh softly, biting your lip to keep from making a sound as his hands tighten on your hips. “Then maybe we should stop…”

“Not a chance,” he says, capturing your lips again in a kiss that leaves no room for argument. His fingers continue their way under your skirt before grazing lightly over the centre of your panties, pulling away quickly as you let out a sharp gasp. 

“Fuck it, we’re doing it.” Quinn hisses. His hands making quick work of his belt buckle and yanking his pants open, the material falling to his knees as his cock springs free. His finger slide back under your skirt pushing your panties to the side before pulling you to the very edge of the counter, lining his hips up with yours. “You need to stay quiet.” He whispers as you let out a moan, his hand slapping over your mouth as he slides inside of you. 

You nod quickly, digging you teeth into his palm as he speeds up his movements, his teeth digging into his own lip as he keeps you steady with a hand on your hip, one of your own hands bracing against the sink as you lift two fingers up to Quinn’s mouth.  “Help a girl out here.” Your words are still muffled by his hand, he nods, letting you dip your fingers into his mouth, his tongue swirling around them before releasing them with a pop, your fingers quickly dipping under your skirt rubbing against your clit as Quinn’s hips stutter. 

“Keep going.” You beg, your pussy clenching around him, trying to milk him of his orgasm as his hips thrust slower and harder, the two of you panting as you both reach your high, Quinn leaning forwards to dig his teeth into your shoulder, letting out a grunt as he pumps into you one more time, his hot cum spurting inside of you, the sensation overwhelming as you whine against his hand. 

“We just fucked in your teammates bathroom, on Christmas.” You say into his palm, letting out a choked laugh as Quinn joins you his dick slowly pulling out of you, Quinn pulling away to gather some toiler paper, cleaning himself off before tucking everything back into his pants. His hands on your hips help you back off the counter, a stack of wet paper towel finding their way between your legs cleaning any leaking mess slipping out of you before he repositions your underwear, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips as he gives you a sly smile. 

“I just couldn’t help myself.” He says quietly, pecking you again as he smooths out your skirt. “I hoped you enjoyed your twelve gifts of christmas.” He laughs, your hand finding his as you pull open the door to the bathroom, peeking around the corner before walking out into the hallway. 

“Oh, it’s going to be a new tradition at this point.” You say, not giving him any time to respond and you join the party again. 

[whimsicalpolitical]

a request if I may… matty getting mad talking to someone on the phone and girlie is just watching him like😵‍💫😵‍💫 and he takes his frustration out on her😁

content warning: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, dirty talk, spanking,

this has been going on for a while now: matty walking back and forth through the room and getting more frustrated by the phone call.

“fucking christ,” matty says gritting his teeth, “what’s your fucking damage?”

you’re sitting at the edge of the bed, done with your nightly routine and only waiting for your pacing boyfriend now.

sleep is the last thing on your mind though.

twenty minutes torture. matty’s little rage act makes your thighs ache because you’ve been clenching them together the second he started to cuss and swear.

“that’s not what i’ve been saying bro, fucking listen.”

your eyes stay on the veins on his forearm when he’s running his hand through his hair, letting a groan slip out of his mouth.

you bite your lip watching him, feeling your panties dampen as his conversation continues.

“you can fuck off with that.”

you inhale sharply and matty hears. he thinks you’re annoyed because you wanted to go to sleep right before his phone rang.

he walks towards you and cups your cheek as he mouths a ‘sorry’.

“actually, i’ve got better things to do, mate. calm down, roll yourself a spliff and chill out, will do you good, i reckon.”

matty is still standing in front of you, so close to touch, to do anything you want to do to him. your hands sneak around his body to his back over his soft shirt.

“nah, have a nice one, i will not fucking continue this conversation. jesus, yeah, you too.”

matty slides his phone into his back pocket, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. the tension in his jaw doesn’t ease even as he exhales sharply, muttering something about “fucking tosser.”

“i’ve been a right twat tonight,” he says, his voice softer now, almost contrite. the furrow in his brow lingers, though, like he’s still half-lost in whatever argument just happened over the phone. “sorry it took so long.”

you swallow hard, suddenly hyperaware of how close he is. the space between you is barely there, his knees brushing yours where you’re perched on the edge of the bed. his t-shirt clings to him in all the right ways, the faint sheen of sweat on his skin catching the light, and you can’t help but let your eyes wander.

you watch him for a moment, taking in the way his shoulders are still tight, his hands shoved into his pockets. he’s not looking at you directly, not yet, but the way his chest rises and falls in short bursts tells you he’s still got all that anger simmering under the surface.

“it’s alright,” you say softly, shaking your head. “but do you want to talk about it?”

his lips press into a thin line, and he tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling for a moment like he’s hoping it’ll swallow him whole. “no,” he says finally, voice flat. “you wanted to go to bed, yeah? you must be knackered now.”

you frown, your head tilting. “i’m not, though.”

he glances down at you then, his brow furrowing like he doesn’t quite believe you. “you should be,” he mutters.

you shake your head again, slower this time. “you should talk about it,” you murmur, reaching out to rest your hands on his forearms. your fingers skim over his skin, and his muscles twitch beneath your touch. “it’ll help. get it out of your head, and then maybe you won’t feel so mad.”

he snorts, shaking his head, his eyes darting away from yours. “what’s the point? won’t change anything. and, anyway, you shouldn’t have to deal with me when i’m like this.”

“i don’t mind,” you say, your voice gentle. your thumbs rub small circles against his arms, coaxing him to relax even just a little. “besides, it’s better than letting it fester. you’ll just drive yourself mental.”

he doesn’t respond right away, his gaze dropping to where your hands rest on him. his jaw tightens again, like he’s still debating it, still trying to work through it on his own. but you can feel the way his tension hasn’t eased, the way he’s holding himself so rigid, and you slide your hands up slowly, tracing over his chest now.

“or,” you say, your voice quieter, almost testing, “you could find another way to let it out.”

his eyes snap to yours at that, narrowing slightly. “what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, his tone sharp, defensive, like he’s daring you to say it.

your fingers spread out against his chest, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart under your palm. “it means,” you say slowly, your gaze not wavering from his, “you could do something to relieve that anger.”

his brow lifts slightly, and for a second, he just stares at you, his expression unreadable. and then he scoffs, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “are you serious?”

“what?” you ask softly, your voice even, steady.

“were you—” he starts, breaking off with a disbelieving laugh before leaning in closer, his eyes narrowing. “were you getting off on that? me losing my shit?”

your face flushes hot, but you don’t pull your hands away. instead, your fingers curl into his shirt, gripping it lightly as you hold his gaze.

“not like that,” you say quickly, though your voice wavers just enough to make him raise an eyebrow.

“not like that,” he repeats, his tone skeptical. his hands come down to rest on your thighs, his grip firm but not harsh, and he leans in closer, his eyes searching yours. “go on, then. explain it to me.”

you swallow hard, your pulse quickening as his thumb brushes over your cheek. “matty, don’t—”

“don’t what?” he cuts you off. “don’t call you out on it? don’t notice the way you’ve been watching me like you want to devour me. i saw, love. the way you clenched your thighs together.”

you open your mouth to retort, but the words die on your tongue when his lips brush against your neck, his stubble scraping deliciously against your skin. his hands slide up your thighs, his fingers curling against the fabric of your sleep shorts.

“that’s dirty. thought you’re being a nice girl and you want to talk,” he scoffs, “instead you just want to be fucked.”

your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continues kissing your neck and his hands wandering to your upper thighs.

“fuck, you’re warm,” he murmurs, his voice rough in your ear. “and so bloody worked up, is this what my little tantrum does to you?”

you let out a soft whimper, your hands gripping his shirt to ground yourself. “matty…”

“say it,” he demands, pulling back just enough to look at you. his pupils are blown, and his chest rises and falls heavily. “say you like it when I’m like this.”

you hesitate for a moment, but the way his hands tighten on your thighs has you caving. “i like it,” you admit in a shaky whisper. “i like it when you’re… like this.”

“knew it,” he mutters before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

the kiss is all-consuming, a perfect mix of frustration and desire. his hands wander freely now, sliding under your shirt to grip your waist. you gasp against his mouth when his teeth graze your bottom lip, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours.

when he pulls back he shakes his head, “you want me to be rough?”

“yes,” you breathe out as fast as possible.

“christ. alright. lay down, get on the bed.”

you nod and scoot backwards, your eyes fixated on matty, who’s already pulling his shirt over his head.

he looks divine. black jeans with a belt and no shirt, his tattoos on full display for you drives you insane. you squirm a bit, waiting for his next move.

he’s taking your feet into his hand, rubbing your skin softly.

“darling, i need you to be absolutely sure and if you don’t fuck with anything i do, you need to tell me.”

“i swear, matty,” you say, offering him a warm smile.

“perfect.”

you watch his face as he carefully and slowly grabs at the fabric of your sleeping shorts, pulling them all the way down.

“gonna let me do what i want to you then?”

“yes.”

his hands find your hips, he's sliding down the bed, just enough so his head is level with your middle, he dips his head down and presses his lips to the soft flesh, his teeth sink into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, you involuntarily let out a soft moan.

he grips your hips more firmly, almost like you'll disappear before him if he doesn't, he moves his lips to your other hip and nips at your skin, "my fucking gorgeous girl, absolutely filthy for me," he says lowly, his breath hot against your skinz

you whimper softly as both of your hands find the nape of his neck. his mouth moves to the soft swell of your tummy and he nips at the supple skin right above your belly button.

he pulls away and peers up at you, eyes dark and full of lust, his mouth hovers over yours, "you drive me mental, you know that, love?" he whispers fervently against your lips, his fingers squeezing the meat of your thighs.

“i'm pretty crazy about you too, matty," you whisper, his cheeks flush pink at your words, still so bashful. he kisses the heel of your palm before patting the side of your thigh, "turn around for me darling, go on, all fours, need to see all of you," he smirks, his eyes full of intensity as they drag down your body.

you do as he asks and move to the middle of the bed, flipping onto your knees and walking your hands out in front of you, arching your back slightly and hiking your up ass in front of him, he moans at the sight.

"just like that," he praises softly behind you and your pussy throbs, a familiar sticky heat pools in your panties at his words. you playtully take a glance back at him, his eyes dark and half-lidded as he sits up and moves to his knees behind you, his hands run up the backs of your thighs all the way up until they meet the globe of your ass.

"look at you, so fuckin' perfect," he murmurs, oggling the curve of your ass as his index finger sneaks under the lace trim of your panties, taking the material between his forefinger and his thumb and lightly skimming his fingers down the lace, "jesus.”

matty scoffs, “s’kind of pathetic. drenching your little panties because i’m angry.”

his fingers roam down to your covered slit and you let out a soft gasp, which only spurs him on, he runs his fingers along the wet spot on your panties, smirking when he feels the wetness staining your panties, the tips of his fingers dip below your clothed slit,

"that’s my girl though, right? always so fuckin' wet for me.”

it should embarrass you, how easy you are for him but it doesn't because it's matty and knowing how much he revels in this, in you makes that small pinch of embarrassment fade away instantly...every single time.

you risk a look at him over your shoulder as he pulls his finger back out and in one swift movement he puts his finger between his lips, quickly sucking your arousal off his finger, like it's a mindless, habitual thing for him.

his hands reach for the waistband sitting on your hips, pulling the lacy fabric down, marveling at the dark fabric against your skin as he slowly drags the material down your thighs, his eyes catch the wetness soaking the lace while he pulls them down and he moans shamelessly.

“such a pretty cunt, darling.”

your eyes widen while you watch him bunch up the material and shove the lace in his back pocket and then his hand lands an affectionate smack to your ass, "eyes forward, i won’t say it again."

you tear your eyes away as he brings a firm hand to the small of your back, pressing you down and deepening the arch to his liking, you instinctively drop to your forearms- so pliant and needy for him-he brings his mouth down and sinks his teeth into the lush of your ass in approval.

“fucking christ,” he groans behind you, “you’re so easy. gonna let me do what i want to you just because you’re needy, pathetic.”

his hands grab your inner thighs, spreading your legs, now he has full sight of your glistening core, two thick fingers stroke through your folds.

"you’re a mess, darling, look at that- you’re dripping down your legs.”

his words make your cunt throb, you can't help the whine you let out, "matty, please."

matty laughs, “you’re a fucking beg. what do you want?”

"i need you, please do anything, please," you mewl, not caring how pathetic you sound.

but still, not enough for matty. a loud wet smack fills the room as he lays a firm slap to your cunt, your body flinches forward, the edges of your vision blurs and your aching, swollen cunt tingles and clenches at the harsh, yet welcomed contact.

he tuts, "that’s it? you need to try better than that, love. beg for it.”

"matty please, i want your cock. i want it," you whine and writhe beneath his firm palm.

"see? s’all i’ve wanted to hear," he cooes, his slick-coated fingers now soothing your folds. “wouldn’t be fun though if we already skipped to the best part, would it?”

he shifts behind you, sliding down off the bed, kneeling on the floor, he pulls you back towards the edge of the bed by your thighs. he tilts his head up just enough to dig his teeth into the meat of your upper thigh, just below the curve of your ass cheek and soothes the sting with a wet kiss.

you shiver, you're aching for him and his mouth is everywhere except for where you need him to be.

“stop writhing around like a needy slut,” he spits out, “you don’t want me to stop immediately, right?”

“no, no, sorry.” you plead, closing your eyes.

matty’s hands come up to grab the meat of your ass, spreading you open and gently pushing you forward for better access, he brings his mouth to hungrily kiss your inner thighs, tasting the sweet, sticky slick coating your skin and a pitiful moan slips from your lips.

“mhm, perfect.”

matty seems to have heard it and that's all it takes for his lips to make contact with your pussy, your breath hitches in your throat as he flattens his tongue and licks a long, slow swipe through your slicked folds, the first one always drawn out and meticulous and just for him.

“oh f-fuck.” you moan.

a pressure already begins to pull taut low in your belly, you're squirming in his grasp but his hands move to firmly grip your outer thighs, keeping you open for him and pressed flush against his eager mouth. he fucking laves at you, devouring and savouring you like he'd never get the chance again.

“such a perfect one, yeah. my favorite taste.”

the vibrations from occasional muffled moans and groans against your pussy make you chant his name over and over like a prayer, even though he's the one on his knees.

“jesus matty," you moan out, your eyes roll back into your head as the coil inside your belly wounds up so tight every muscle in your body tenses. you start grinding your hips back into his face, he groans in response and loosens his grip on your legs, letting you take what you need from him.

it takes a moment to come down from your high, matty not being a help at all with the same pace he has on your clit.

he flattens his tongue against your clit before he closes his lips around it, suckling it into his mouth and moaning around it, the vibrations from his mouth makes the coil in your belly snap, and you cry out, using the sheets beneath you to stifle the noises slipping through your lips.

“fucking god,” you moan, “matty- can’t.”

matty hums a “you can,” and immediately latches on again.

the tip of his tongue works small, tight circles on your clit around and around, only this time with more pressure than before and within minutes or seconds-you don't really know at this point-you feel the pressure building in your belly and it's growing stronger by every lick and suck from his mouth. his tongue flicks over your clit before he licks it into his mouth once more, closing his lips tightly, he gives it one last tight circle of his tongue and suckle to your clit and you break, your second orgasm crashes over you.

“matty,” you moan over and over again, your brain completely empty with thoughts.

a choked moan escapes you, your legs quiver as they threaten to close while your hands fist the sheets beside your head, the grip he has on your thighs holds you open for him while you come all over his mouth and he laps you up, savoring, slurping, and swallowing down everything you give him.

“fucks sake,” he groans, “perfect cunt.”

milliseconds pass and he shifts behind you, lost in the haze of your orgasm, you can faintly hear ruffling as he stands up. he leans forward, kneading your ass in his palms before bending down to lay another bite on your other cheek, this time with more fervor, leaving a mark, your skin tingles.

matty’s hand is on him, stroking himself slowly, while his other hand is touching your body.

“just a little toy for me, aren’t you, darling?” he asks, not expecting an answer, “gonna let me fuck you?”

matty positions himself right against your ass and places his hands on your hips again and squeezes, “talk to me.”

"not like this,” you whine, not daring to look back, “wanna see you.”

“aww,” matty pouts, “you’ve got too many wishes, you know?”

nevertheless he grips your thighs and turns you around so you’re on your back. you’re eyes are staring at him but it seems like you’re not there, your brain feels hazy.

“you’re alright, love,” matty says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

you can only whine and grip the nape of his neck to receive a proper kiss.

“needy girl,” he murmurs, leaning down to give you a kiss, licking over your bottom lip before tugging it between his teeth.

your sounds are swallowed by his mouth as he keeps kissing you, grinding himself against your thigh.

“can-please,” you whine, stretching your arm out to find his cock, which is already leaking with pre cum.

matty lets out a quiet groan, you can't help but smile at this as you start to rub him between your legs, grabbing his attention back onto the task at hand.

“didn’t say you could touch me, love,” he grits out, “s’like you can’t get enough.”

“i can’t,” you smile, tugging at his hair, “can you please fuck me.”

you’re desperate. how could you not be with matty between your legs, right there.

matty slides inside of you roughly, not slow and steady, not giving you any time to adjust, he’s using you.

“fuck, this what you wanted?” he asks as his eyelids flutter closed.

he’s got one of your thighs in his grasp and he's pushing it up against your ribs as he begins a steady pace with his hips against yours. there’s strings of your slick attached to his upper thighs from your inner legs rubbing against him.

matty notices immediately, “fucking christ, you’re making such a mess, s’heavenly.”

“matty,” you moan, “you- s’perfect.”

“yeah?”

matty brings his right hand back down to continue flicking your clit back and forth with his wet fingers.

you bite down on his shoulder. your propped up foot thuds softly against his back as the other one grips onto the sheets.

"feel nice?" matty asks into your hair as you bite down onto him, “fucking enjoy yourself?”

“feel so perfect," you whine against him. "jesus, so good,” you slur.

his weight is pushing you down so you can't wiggle away from any of the stimulation he's giving you. it accumulates quickly and, just laying there and taking it, you don't get enough time to warn him you're close.

you’re clenching around him uncontrollably, rolling your eyes back and clawing your nails into his shoulder blades.

“let me have it, come on,” he groans, rutting into you as deep as before, “come for me.”

he fucks you harder, his pace frantic. "such a perfect cunt, darling." he groans, dipping his head into your neck to nip at your skin. “my gorgeous girl."

"oh, god, matty..." you cry, your orgasm quickly approaching, unable to stop it no matter how much you want to prolong the feeling.

it doesn't take long before your orgasm crashes over you, pulsing through you in waves, back arching off the bed as you reach out for anything to ground yourself. hands finding the back of his head, pulling him into your chest.

“just like that, perfect, darling.”

he follows soon after, his cock pulsing inside you as he empties himself into you, collapsing on top of you, his chest heaving.

“fuck,” he exhales, moving one more slow time again to torture the both of you.

you’re overstimulated, your legs hurting so good there are tears prickling in your eyes. you brush your hands over matty’s shoulders and back, humming as you try to love on him.

“you still angry?” you ask, smiling to yourself.

matty groans when he lifts his head to look at you, stealing a quick kiss, “nah. unless you want me to be,” he jokes.

“give me a break,” you giggle.

“i love you, darling,” he murmurs, sliding out of you, hissing at the cold air.

you scrunch up your nose in pain, your ass, thighs and the skin between your legs hurting real good.

“i’ll draw you a bath, don’t worry, love.”

you enjoy this the most. matty being the sweet boy you’ve known forever, his only mission to take care of you.

[stuckinmymind22]

zoro x gn! reader

wc: 663

this is the first part of a series "you're in love with me" where you realize that they are in love with you can call them out on it

thanks for voting on this one, i had fun with it, sorry it took so long, i got busy with the holidays, but it’s here now 💕

ace's is done and will be up probably tomorrow and i'm gonna start on sanjis, but lmk if you are interested in any other characters

not proof read lol

this goes one of two ways, in both you're being called stupid, both included

it's a chose your own adventure babe!

zoro has been acting strange recently- he was almost too quick to come to your aid, even if it was something you both knew you could handle alone. he’s also been making sure that you eat. recently he brought up a plate for you when you were on duty in the crow’s nest. sure, the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks were tinted pink, but that was easy to write off as a consequence of the alcohol that was surely in his veins. but he didn’t leave right away like you thought he would, he stood on the ladder without moving until he saw you take your first bite. on the last island there had been a miscalculation in your provisions and the ship was running dangerously low on alcohol. there was no doubt that the crew was going to run dry shy of meeting their next destination, which was a bigger deal to some of the straw hats than others. it all brings you to the moment he offers you a sip of the last bottle of sake. you’re speechless. you always thought that hell sure would freeze over before he shared his booze and here he is willingly offering you some. you’re trying to figure out what was going on in his head, why he has been acting so strange, then it hits you.  “you’re in love with me.”

denial is a river in egypt

“did you hit your head or sum?” he asks, trying to remain as impartial as possible, but you didn’t miss how he nearly choked at your words. “no, zo, this makes sense,” you say connecting the dots, "you've been acting real weird about me recently, this explains it." you aren’t about to back down from this, not after you wanted this for so long, not until he admits it to himself. “you’re being an idiot,” he rolls his eyes, “do you want some or not?” with a smile you grab the bottle out of his hand and take a swig, sitting down next to him. “i don’t mind you know,” you say taking another sip, “that you love me that is” zoro is confused why he is so drawn to the dangerous smile that plays on your lips. he shakes himself out of it snatching back the bottle and taking a long gulp. you get pulled away by luffy wanting something, but he still feels your presence.  little do you know how those words haunt him for the rest of the night. fuck, you might be right

he's down bad and he knows it

“n-no I’m not,” zoro sputters, his face alight, “are you stupid or something?” “no, no, this is why you’ve been acting strange,” you say, the weight of your revelation still sinking in. “that’s why you haven’t let me out of your sight for the past week, right?” you don’t give him time to respond (not that he would be able to formulate a coherent response anyway). you continue listing all of his abnormal behaviors and fail to notice how his face grows redder with your every word. poor zoro is sinking into his seat hoping to disappear he’s so uncomfortable. he’s certain that he messed everything up and has no idea what to do now. he knows that you’re right of course, it’s kept him up at night, kept him from his precious naps. it took him a while to realize why you never left his mind, and the determining factor came from the fucking cook spewing some bullshit to a pretty woman on the last island. just when he is certain that he ruined whatever relationship you could ever have you turn to him with a big smile.  “it’s a good thing you are though, or else this would be awkward,” you tell him, before he can even think to question what you mean your lips are on his and his brain malfunctions.  maybe it’ll be alright.

masterlist

[siyooungi]

Pairing: Chaewon x Fem!Reader

Idol: Kim Chaewon (Le Sserafim)

Warning(s): None, I don’t think!

A/N: temporarily coming back? here’s my holiday gift to you all!

A sudden noise from the kitchen, followed by a curse, startled you as you exited the bathroom. You definitely weren’t the only one to hear it because Yunjin’s head popped out of her room and you both made eye contact. “What was that?” She whispered, to which you shrugged in response before gesturing for her to come out to join you. She squinted her eyes before shouting in a whisper,

“Are you crazy? Have you seen the movies?”

All you could do was look at her like she was crazy before throwing up your arms and responding in the same volume,

“Who else would be in here if not one of the others?”

A sudden realization washed over her, and she let out a sheepish laugh. You feigned a smack in her direction, resulting in her flinching. Hesitantly, she fully stepped out, and you both went in the direction where the sound came from.

It turns out it was just your girlfriend, Chaewon. She was trying to bake something, and it wasn’t going to go according to plan. Yunjin immediately burst out laughing when she saw the state that your leader was in. Her hair was slightly ruffled, likely from her nearly pulling it out in frustration, and her glasses were crooked. You had to stifle your laugh because she immediately turned around as soon as she heard Yunjin.

“Yah! Huh Yunjin!”

The taller woman’s eyes widened, and she bolted back to her room without a second thought, leaving you to fend for yourself. You wanted to mentally facepalm yourself at her cowardice. Of course, she’d leave you with an angry Chaewon.

Before you could even say anything, your phone pinged. You lifted it up just to see a message from Yunjin saying,

8:15pm

yunjinie

it was better you than me..

You scoffed at the message and put your phone back in your pocket. As soon as you looked up, you were met with a scowling brunette. You held your hands up in defense, to which she sighed heavily and turned away. You took that as a cue for you to make your way over to her, but still keep a reasonable distance.

“I don’t bite.” She muttered as she stopped mixing the ingredients, seemingly waiting for you to come closer. Hesitantly, you take a big step closer to her, now being able to observe what she’s making. Turns out she was making cookies from scratch, but there was something clearly off.

Humming, you peered over her other shoulder and turned your attention to the recipe she was using. It looked rather simple so you were confused as to where she messed up so far. You then compared the list of ingredients with what she had laid out. It didn’t take long for you to realize the issue.

“You forgot the chocolate chips and brown sugar?” You questioned, looking at her with eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. The latter sighed, not wanting to look you in the eyes. The realization of forgetting those ingredients were the reason behind her cursing and the noise you heard earlier. You didn’t want to make her feel worse, so you gently wrapped your arms around her waist and rested your head on her shoulder. She leaned back into you, momentarily relaxing.

“Want me to go and buy them for you?” Your voice was soft yet teasing. The brunette hesitated after hearing your offer, seemingly caught off guard. “Would you be okay with that?” She asked as she pulled away slightly to look you in the eyes.

You rolled your eyes at the question. “Would I have offered if I wasn’t?” You retorted, pulling her back closer with a smile. Chaewon sent a sneer your way before stepping out of your arms and moving off to the side, resting her arms on the counter. “Thank you,” She mumbled, clearly not wanting to give you the satisfaction of admitting she needed help.

“Sorry, what was that? Didn’t quite catch it.” You teased, furrowing your eyebrows and pointing at your ear like you couldn’t hear her. She released a heavy sigh and pushed you lightly, which made you giggle.

“I’ll be back,” You gave her a kiss on the cheek before grabbing your phone and texting your manager about your planned endeavor. You then rushed out the door, calling back over your shoulder, “Make sure the kitchen doesn’t burn down while I’m gone!”

“Yah!” Came Chaewon’s sharp shout, followed by the unmistakable sound of a slipper hitting the door.

It wouldn’t be long until you arrived back to the dorm, especially considering that the nearest grocery store was just up the street. You would’ve walked, but your manager decided against it and drove you there. It was a swift run and by the time you returned with what you considered to be the crucial ingredients, you were met with quite the site.

The kitchen was… still intact. Barely. Flour could be seen across the countertops, some even dusting Chaewon’s cheeks. A small pile of cracked egg shells sat precariously on the edge of the sink, and the mixing bowl she’d been using was dangerously close to tipping over. At the sound of the door opening, Chaewon turned to you with a sheepish smile, her glasses now sitting slightly straighter on her nose but still crooked enough to evoke a giggle out of you.

"Back so soon?" She asked, wiping her hands on her apron. “Well, of course. I needed to save you from your own mess, but it seems I wasn’t fast enough…” You trailed off as you walked over and reached to place the bags of chocolate chips and brown sugar on the counter. Keyword: reached. The moment her eyes lit up at the sight of the ingredients, she snatched them from you with impressive speed.

"What would I do without you?" she asked earnestly, setting the ingredients down before turning back to you.

"Probably raging over another failed baking attempt," you mumbled, grinning as she playfully swatted your arm, clearly catching your little comment. "Whatever. Are you going to help, or are you just here to watch me struggle?" She questioned, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow expectantly.

You hummed, feigning a lengthy ponder. “Well, I am enjoying watching you—“ You weren’t able to finish when she feigned a hit at you, causing you to chuckle and move back. "Help, of course!” You quickly added as you took a step beside her.

"You know," she began with a cheeky smile, "for someone who's not baking, you sure have a lot to say."

As she poured the newly acquired chocolate chips into the mixing bowl, you quickly held out your hand to steal some, popping them into your mouth. With an exaggeratedly high-pitched and incoherent tone, you mimicked her,

"For someone who's not baking��meh meh meh."

This earned you an unimpressed glare from the Korean woman, though the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth betrayed her amusement. You giggled at the feeling of her eyes burning into your side, using your other free hand to grab the spoon out of her hand. "For someone who's supposed to be the baker, you sure forgot some crucial ingredients," you muttered, starting to stir the mixture yourself.

Chaewon gasped, feigning offense as she crossed her arms. "Who's the one wearing the apron here? I’m the head chef." She declared as she took the spoon back from you and pointed it at herself for emphasis.

"Head chef?" You looked at her ridiculously before glancing at the mess surrounding you both.

"Yeah, if this is a five-star disaster kitchen."

She narrowed her eyes at you before grabbing a handful of flour and flinging it toward you. You managed to duck in time, laughing at her poor aim. "Good thing the Doosan Bears didn’t request for you.." You joked, brushing off the few stray specks of flour that landed on you.

"Next time, I won’t miss," she warned as she tried to look menacing, though her puffed-up cheeks only made her look cute. Smiling, you set the bowl down and stepped closer to her.

“Oh, really? Should I be scared, Chef Kim?"

Chaewon’s confidence faltered slightly as you closed the distance, but she quickly covered it with an exaggerated scoff.

"Yes, if you value your life."

Without warning, you grabbed her waist and easily lifted her onto the counter, earning a surprised squeak from her. "What was that, huh?" You teased, standing between her legs as she adjusted her balance.

"You’re so annoying," she muttered, though the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed her words. She looped her arms around your neck, pulling you closer.

"Annoying, but you still love me,"

Chaewon rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress her smile.

"Unfortunately..”

Before you could come up with a retort, she closed the remaining gap, pressing her lips to yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. Now it was your turn to become flustered. Your hands rested on her hips as you melted into the moment, the cookies completely forgotten.

Though as if the kitchen was lacking attention, the oven beeped loudly, making you both jump. Chaewon yelped as she instinctively tightened her hold around you, and you stumbled back slightly in surprise.

"The cookies!" She exclaimed, her voice panicked as she quickly hopped off the counter, releasing you from her hold. You scrambled to grab an oven mitt, both of you frantically working together to rescue the cookies. Once they were safely on the cooling rack, you turned to each other and burst into laughter.

"Okay, maybe we shouldn’t multitask while baking,"

"Agreed," you replied, still chuckling as you brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "At least we didn’t burn the house down." You added as you leaned against the wall, looking around to see the very much still intact kitchen.

Chaewon nodded, her gaze solely on you. "Thanks for saving the day, I suppose.." She murmured as she reached out to take your hand. "Anytime," you replied with a smile, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Yah! Keep it down out there!"

You both knew that voice almost immediately.

“You are one to talk Miss Huh!” You shouted back, earning a shove on the shoulder from the woman in front of you. You awaited a response from the taller woman, but nothing followed, causing you to smirk as you looked at Chaewon.

“And that’s how you do it.” You brushed the dust off your shoulder, feeling proud at your ability to silence your fellow member with just a few words.

But your prideful moment only lasted a few seconds since you heard a door open shortly after, causing your eyes to widen. Chaewon rolled her eyes as she watched you crouch behind the kitchen island, trying to make yourself invisible. She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter, a bemused smile tugging at her lips.

“You really thought you could say something like that to Yunjin and not face the consequences?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. You peeked up from your hiding spot and pouted. “I thought I had her! She didn’t respond, so I figured I won.”

Chaewon smiled knowingly, glancing toward the approaching footsteps. “Yeah, and now she’s coming to end your winning streak.”

Before you could respond, Yunjin rounded the corner, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. “There you are, big talker!” She announced, cracking her knuckles for dramatic effect.

“What was it you said?” The raven-haired woman lifted an eyebrow as she scanned for you over the counter. You slowly stood up, hands raised in surrender.

“What I meant to say was that you're... um... Miss Always Right, duh!”

Chaewon let out a loud laugh at your desperate attempt to appease Yunjin. “Wow, that’s pathetic.” She teased, to which you turned to her with an expression of disbelief before firing back,

“Hey, whose side are you on?”

She glanced between you and Yunjin before replying smoothly, "The side that's not hiding behind a counter," her smug expression making you groan in defeat.

Yunjin grinned, clearly enjoying your humiliation. “You’re lucky Chaewon’s here to witness this,” she spoke, crossing her arms. “Otherwise, I’d have you doing my chores for the rest of the week.” Your leader raised her eyebrows at this, not entirely put off by the idea.

“Noted,” you mumbled, making a mental note to avoid provoking Yunjin in the future.

As the taller woman turned to leave, she called over her shoulder, “And don’t forget to clean up the mess you made in there! The ‘head chef’ title doesn’t excuse you from cleanup duty!”

The brunette groaned, her earlier triumph fading. “That little…” she muttered under her breath, leaning back from the counter and looking for a rag to wipe the counter. Now it was your turn to laugh. Knowing Yunjin had heard Chaewon called herself that and used it against her was beyond humorous.

“Have fun!" You shouted out, making a hasty retreat toward the your room. Chaewon whipped around, her eyes narrowing, but you were already halfway down the hallway. "Y/N, get back here!" She yelled back, her voice dripping with mock threat.

"We have unfinished business!"

You grinned to yourself, knowing full well that you'd narrowly avoided her wrath for now. "I’m taking my leave!" You called back, slipping around the corner just in time to hear her groan in frustration.

You heard your girlfriend mutter something about ‘payback later,’ and you couldn’t help but giggle, knowing you were in for it—but for now, you were safe… at least until she came into your room.

A/N: it’s been so long since i’ve written, i apologize if there are any mistakes!

[bearprofessorr]

a second chance.

sometimes getting stood up is the only way to find what you really needed.

ship: declan o'hara/fem!reader. tags/warnings: drinking, making out, no y/n. word count: 3.8k.

(crossposted on ao3)

---

The night was young, and you had plans. A date. One of the boys that helped out with the Cotswolds Round-up plucked up the courage to ask you out after a few weeks of idle chatter in the breakroom. You dressed up for the occasion - even if it was only for a drink at the one proper pub in the area. It wasn't often you would be asked out; normally you would be making the first move, hoping that it was reciprocated. Not tonight. 

You arrived slightly before you planned to meet him, wanting a drink to steady your nerves as the clock got closer to 8. you finished your first drink - a simple vodka coke - and looked back at the clock, now reading 8:15. Panic rose in your throat, but you kept it down by ordering another drink. Thankfully, there was a TV behind the bar that you could watch to pass the time, distract yourself and try and convince the other patrons of the pub that you were really enthused by... golf. 

The night continued to pass, and the golf blurred as you stared at the screen instead of watching it. The clock hit 8:45 and you had to swallow the pain of being stood up. You looked around the pub, seeing if anyone was looking at you - no one spared you a glance. There were faces you recognised, some from Corinium's other departments, but none that you spoke to at all; Until you looked down the bar, in a dim corner, noticing Corinium's prized jewel; Declan O' Hara, slowly nursing a glass of whiskey with his eyes just as glazed over as yours were, staring at the TV. Rumours had been circulating around the offices of Declan's wife being scouted for work in London after prized director Malhar Verma was spotted at the O'Hara's New Year's party. Although you knew nothing of Maud personally, she had been in some of your favourite films as a kid, and you were sure her return to the acting world would be well-received. However, from the looks of things, Declan wasn't taking the rumours too well, and from where you were sitting, it was unclear to you whether Declan was even sporting his wedding band. It wasn't as if you could go over and strike up a conversation, though. You had spoken to Declan in passing, mostly because your team helped Cameron with research and analytics - taking the analysis of audience retention and opinions off of her plate so she can do what she's best at. 

Whether he noticed you looking at him was another uncertainty - but you noticed his head move out of the corner of your eye, and you decided to act very interested in the golf again. When he stood up, you took no real notice, until he walked up next to you, got the bartender's attention and ordered another glass of whiskey. 

"Did Tony send you?" He leant his forearms on the bar, looking you over for anything he deemed suspicious behaviour, "'Cause if he did, tell him to fuck off, will you?"

"What?" You asked, more confused than defensive. 

"You work at Corinium, do you not?" Declan mirrored your expression, eyebrows furrowed as he waited for you to respond.

"Yeah, but I'm no spy - promise." You put your hands up in defence, giving Declan a weak smile and a shrug to try and calm his nerves. The bartender came over with Declan's drink before he could speak, so he quickly thanked him and took a long sip before continuing.

"So you just come to the pub - all dolled up and alone, for fun?" 

"I wasn't supposed to be. I got stood up."

"Oh. Sorry..." He awkwardly patted your shoulder, in some kind of apology - or sympathy. 

"Don't be. It was my mistake to assume he was being genuine."

"Men are cunts, take it from me - don't waste your time on them." His mind immediately darted to Rupert Campbell-Black, and his attempts to court his daughter. A small part of him looked at you, noticing you and Taggie appeared similar in age and he chastised himself for the thought. He went to say your name, but realised very visibly that he couldn't recall it, even though he recognised you. You noticed this and held out your hand, introducing yourself like you were taught to.

"I work with Cameron on research." You smiled, appreciating his gentle grip as Declan took you hand in his to shake it, placing his other hand on top to solidify the gesture. "We've actually been in the same meetings for the last month."

"Ah, that explains why I've seen you around - wait, are you-"

"Brainiac, yeah. Tony called me that once - probably not in the nicest way - and it just... stuck." You rolled your eyes at the memory, sighing, detaching your hands to run your fingers through your hair, "But I would prefer for that to stay at work. Obviously."

"Obviously," He parroted, "Of course." He noticed he hadn't reciprocated the greeting, and hated the fact he assumed people knew who he was, "I'm Declan."

"I know that." Declan winced ever so slightly at your response. You smiled without thinking, for the first time that night, "You're the golden goose of the network; and working with Cameron, I do research for your show. I think if I didn't know who you were through all that I'd be kicked to the street."

"Right." Declan chuckled, looking defeated as the conversation fell into a lull. "If you don't mind me asking," He presented the question, his journalistic instincts kicking in, "Who was it you were supposed to be meeting here?"

"Sebastian." The name rang a bell, with Declan recognising him for around the offices, mostly tailing Cameron wherever she went. Before he could make a comment, you spoke back up, "He... well- he said we would meet here and go for dinner, but that clearly isn't happening. I'd rather not dwell on it, if that's alright." You gave a flat smile, taking a long breath to stop the anxieties from crawling back into your mind. "I should have been realistic, he's... he's him, and I'm-"

"Don't sell yourself short. You're a beautiful woman, and it's a pity for him he hadn't recognised that." Declan cut you off, a stern look on his face. He took a moment to truly look at you then, in a way he hadn't dedicated the time to before - what self-respecting married man would spend his time gazing at the women he worked with? 

As much as you would have wanted to believe him, wrap yourself in his kind words, you simply couldn't. What did it matter if you were beautiful if no one was around to treat you as if you were? Actions and words meant very different things - both needed to be true if you wanted to believe it. This came across clearly on your face as you turned away to stare into your glass, both hands interlocked around it on the bar. 

"Thank you, but that doesn't change anything." You sighed, draining the last of your drink into your mouth, pulling your bag onto your shoulder, "I'm sure you didn't come here to comfort my bruised ego - I'll get out of your way so you can actually enjoy your night."

"And what enjoyment do you think I came here for?"

"I don't know," You shrugged, scanning the room before looking back at the TV, "Maybe you just wanted to watch the golf."

He laughed at that, raising his eyebrows in disbelief, leaning his back against the bar as you stepped away from it, "Really?"

"Look, what else am I supposed to say?" You looked down at his hand around his whiskey glass, noticing he was still wearing his ring, but the words came out of your mouth before you could hold them back, "That you've come here to drown out your troubles? I'm not like you, Declan, I don't pry."

He noticed your eyes dip from his, and a part of him wanted to hear you say his name again, in that perfect accent of yours. It was that same part of him that he kept locked away for fear of turning into the men he criticised. The small glint in his eye at that quickly disappeared, not without you noticing. "Maybe you should. You'd learn a lot about a person that way."

"You look like you're dying to tell me why you're actually here," You stood your ground, relaxing your posture, "so, go ahead."

"I wouldn't say dying to, but if you insist-" Declan teased, shrugging while he gestured with his glass for you to sit back down, but when you didn't, he nodded to acknowledge your lack of action and continued, "I came here to avoid Taggie sitting me down and trying to stop me from falling into 'old habits'." He exaggerated with the curl of his fingers. 

"Old habits like the one in your hand?"

"Bingo."

"Maybe you should listen to your daughter, Declan."

"Maybe you should mind your own business, darling." He mocked, enjoying the anger that immediately rose to your face, only to be concealed - except the lingering red around your ears.

"You're the one who-" You scoffed, noticing the smile playing on Declan's face and taking an audible breath, turning on your heel, "Forget it. Enjoy your habits, just try not to leave when the bar closes - makes you look like you have a problem."

"It's only a problem if I leave alone." Declan called out to you, and he watched as you stopped mid-step and placed your foot down delicately.

You paused, still facing the door, hands tensing as you considered your options. There were two ways this could go, if you stayed - and misread his signals, you go home disappointed. If you're right about the undertone of his words, and you stay, you can forget Sebastian and enjoy some good company - maybe more.  Already having been disappointed by one man tonight, the only way that has the potential to change is if you stay. 

"Is that so?" You turned, your head tilting to emphasise the playful nature of your question. "In my mind that would just be two people fuelling each other's addictions, but if you'd prefer I stay to make sure you get home in one piece-"

"I can take care of myself, you wouldn't need to carry me home." He paused, "If anything, the opposite's more likely."

"I think you underestimate how many people I've drunk under the table who've thought they can hold a light to my drinking prowess." You were bluffing - you'd only competed against one person, who was already pissed and was half-way to the bathroom after the first drink. 

"And you're the one saying I've got a habit? Looks like you've been practicing yourself."

"Only on weekends." You joked, and by the look on his face, it was clear Declan understood you were playing up your tolerance, and made space for you at the bar as you stepped closer.

"Right." He chuckled, "It's not for sport, then?"

"You could say it's more a hobby." You smiled, taking your seat facing Declan, while leaning an arm on the bar. "There's not much else to do out here."

"It's fair to indulge every so often." He gestured with his glass to the bartender for another round, taking the last sips from it, "Less destructive than hunting."

You rolled your eyes, the reminders of your summer job at a range leaving a sour taste in your mouth that was quickly replaced with a drink. "It's a hobby for assholes with delusions of grandeur, as far as my interactions with them have gone."

"So, the whole of Cotchester?" Declan raised an eyebrow, eyes following yours.

"Unfortunately so." 

"I'm certain you've heard everything there is to know, then?"

"Not that isn't already common knowledge."

"You'd be surprised - like how we all 'know' about Cameron and Tony-" The commonplace gossip slipped from Declan's mouth before he could think, but since it was only to another Corinium member, he realised it was safe to speculate. When you cut him off to fill the rest of his sentence, he breathed out a small sigh of relief.

"But his wife's none the wiser, yes I'm aware. I don't have the protections you do to go around telling everyone's business to any ears that'll listen." You shook your head, relaxing it to rest on your hand, propped up on the bar.

"Now, what's that supposed to mean?"

"You're Declan O' Hara. Your whole schtick is digging up people's pasts, making a living off of the skeletons in their closets." You accused with a flourish, taking a long sip from your glass.

"Not always."

"But you have, right? Like with Rupert - you didn't say what it was but I know for a fact you had something catastrophic." There was a sparkle in your eye at that, the thrill of the chase, Declan knew that tone - he used it himself when he knew he had someone pinned. Backed into a corner, ready to strike. "You reached for something. I saw. Twice during that interview when you were readying yourself for the question, you reached," You reached across, poking the side of his chest. "Right there, for your blazer pocket."

"I was bluffing - to throw him off, and it worked like a charm." Declan brushed your hand away, lightly closing his hand over yours. Your heart fluttered at the contact, "Now, if I did have something on Rupert, as soon as I made the choice not to say it on air, that information never really existed."

"Because of your daughter?"

The question caused him to pause, the words hanging in the air. 

"What?" He tried to regain his balance, his gut tossing itself to the side. Thankfully, you didn't notice, and kept talking to fill the silence. 

"I overheard people talking about her bursting into the building to track him down during the break - did she know?" You interrupted yourself, "Was that what you were going to expose him for?"

Declan shook his head, trying his best to mask the disdain he felt for Rupert's advances on Taggie, "No, there wasn't anything to expose. Rupert's life has been incredibly public, everything I said was already out there, public knowledge."

"Tony and Cameron public or actually public?"

"Front page of 'The Times' public."

"Hmm." You didn't look fully convinced, but dropped the subject simply because of the look Declan was giving you - stern, final. "You two seem... friendly."

"We are." Declan agreed, adding with a knowing smile, "He's better than people assume he is - once he comes back down to earth." 

You chuckled at that, knowing the stories that filtered through the area of his specific brand of ego. The alcohol had fully seeped into your bloodstream now, if the dull pulse of your heartbeat in the back of your head was anything to go by. The lights seemed to shine a little brighter, haloing Declan in a warm glow. You didn't say anything, didn't feel the need to. You simply stared, observing how in the silence, Declan turned to face ahead of him, leaving you with the side profile of his face. He was tired, that much was evident - the light beginnings of unshaved stubble rising on his cheeks, a similar shade to the bags under his eyes, half-hooded eyes that threatened to close without forceful blinks every so often. It was only once you hand made contact with the side of his face that you realised it had moved to brush against his cheek, a slow, soft movement with the backs of your fingers. Declan moved his eyes before his head, an equally soft look and light glisten of water in them as they noticed the touch. 

Your eyes widened, your hand froze, you took in a short breath and held it tight in your chest. As soon as your hand twitched to move back, his rushed to hold it, trying to form the sentences in his mind to express what had made his heart stutter. All that came out of his mouth, like a plea, was the simple question;

"Can I kiss you?" 

You barely had time to process your head nodding, your instincts answering for you, before his lips met with yours for the first time. The first thing you noticed was how he tasted, of whiskey and cigarettes, combining with the scents of cedarwood - it was addicting to say the least. He pulled back, Declan's hand lingering on your cheek. Your eyes looked into his to try and find any hint of hesitation, of regret, and found none.

It was the light jeering of a table off in the corner that took you both out of the moment, made you duck to hide your blushing face from the other patrons of the bar. 

"Don't listen to them," Declan used the hand on your cheek to guide your face to look back at him, "They're only playing around."

"It's hard not to, not when I can feel them looking at me-" You cut yourself off, draining the rest of your glass. It was almost abrupt, the way you stood, grabbing your bag. Declan put a hand on your arm, trying to slow you down, and you answered his question with your own before he was able to ask it, "Are you coming or not?"

It took a moment for his mind to catch up, but as soon as he met your eyeline again, saw the light reflect in them, he nodded and slid his hand down your arm to lace your fingers together - the bar had his card on file, they would charge what they wanted. Frankly, he couldn't give a shit about how much he had spent, all he wanted was to follow you wherever you decided to go. That was good enough for you, and the pair of you left the bar to light cheers from the same table as before. As soon as you were outside, as soon as Declan knew there were no more eyes on you but his, he pulled you closer, feeling the goosebumps from the chilled air on your skin.

Declan's eyes were focused on your lips, physically restraining himself from devouring you there. You took the initiative in a rare moment of confidence, hovering over his lips before pressing them together, breaking apart for a moment only to return open-mouthed, deepening the kiss; His hands rushed to pull you closer, tangling into your hair and around your waist, fabric bunching under his grip. You pulled away, the chill of the night forcing you out of the moment. Declan chased your lips with his, instead electing to brush their noses together before pressing his forehead to yours. "What's wrong, darling?"

You smiled at that, had to stop yourself from breaking down into a puddle of laughter at how soft the situation had turned, "I- We might freeze to death out here if every ten paces you stop and-" You dodged his lips again, turning your head so they pressed against your cheek, still giggling all the while "-God, if you don't let us actually get to where we're going, I'll never forgive you."

It was almost childlike, how Declan pleaded with you, how his round brown eyes tracked yours, "I'll keep you warm, sweetheart, I swear."

"Declan-"

"No-" He interrupted, running his hands down your arms, interlocking your fingers once he reached your hands.

"As much as I would love to take your word for it, I can't feel my hands right now."

"They're fucking freezing." Declan commented, pressing both of your hands together so he could cup his around them in some attempt to warm them up. 

And at that moment, the bright lights from the unfortunate turn of a car into the driveway of the pub caught you both off guard, and something in your gut felt the need to make significant distance between you and Declan. Luckily so, since as the car pulled up, Declan recognised it and winced, knowing what was going to happen already. Not Taggie, but Rupert stepped out of the family's car first, with his daughter in the passenger's seat. 

"Fuck."

"Declan! Man of the hour, thought I'd find you rotting away here!" Rupert cheerily leant on the bonnet of the car, a shit-eating grin on his face as he crossed his arms. "Look, I'm not one to judge what a man does with his time but-"

"Fuck off Rupert." Declan rolled his eyes, pulling his blazer across himself. You were glad you hadn't been noticed, and tried to just start walking home when Rupert lifted himself off the car and walked with a brisk pace to step in front of you.

"Not so fast, sweetheart." He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, not quite meeting your eye, "I know the last thing you want to do is talk, but I'm not about to stand here and let you walk home by yourself."

He turned around to look back at the car, watching how Taggie had stepped out and was standing face-to-face with her dad, chastising him for staying out so late. Declan looked over for a moment, offered a small wave to you and Rupert and resigned himself to the justified beratement from his daughter - he knew in the bottom of his heart that she was right, but drinking was the easy way out and they both knew that. 

Taggie carted him into the front seat of the passenger's side, and beckoned Rupert over with a stern but tired look on her face. Rupert patted you on the shoulder, leaving you with a small, "Just one second, alright?" before jogging over to Taggie. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but with the vague gestures that Rupert made to you and the glances you caught from Taggie, you assumed they were talking about you. It made you want to dissolve, but that was the risk you took. And, at the end of the day, you were glad of the rest of the night you had, even if it ended prematurely.

Rupert, ever the gentleman, walked you the 30 minutes home, in relative silence. He broke it only to ask your name and if you were alright, both questions that you answered with the least information required. 

After a particularly awkward walk, you got to your door, and as you fumbled with your keys, you paused, took a breath and turned to face Rupert. "Look, I don't want this to become a whole ordeal-"

"Don't worry, I won't tell a soul." Rupert smiled, and it looked more genuine than the ones he flashed on Declan's show, "Your secret is safe with me." He reassured, nodding goodnight as you disappeared into your house to sneak into bed, alone.

[1caru]

About the Sword of Koholint Island. you know, the level two sword? I like to call it Dream Weaver. the dream world equivalent to the maser sword. the thing is, once someone draws it, it's theirs till death. and i like to imagine traveler with the other links getting ambushed, his sword gets sent flying and he's about to be struck down but then *flash!* a most familiar sword appears in his hands.....a sword that while it saves his life...brings back memories he finds too painful. and suddenly he's telling the gang about Marin, the island, and what he feels is his greatest crime... just to feel less....hurt inside.

does that sound like a thing? like a cool idea?

I'm so sorry it took me so long to respond to this! You caught me right at the beginning of one of my busiest college semesters yet lol

I love your idea, here's a short fic about it to make up for the wait!

(tw: panic attack)

"Can I get some help over here?!" Legend yelped, narrowly ducking under the swing of a darknut's blade. One of the Rancher's monsters, if he recalled correctly. He could hear the young man dramatically sharing the tale of how he had once faced down four of them at once, light from the campfire dancing excitedly in his eyes as he talked about how thrilling it was to hone his swordsmanship against such highly skilled and armored foes.

Legend had decided that the man was a lunatic.

"Give me a second!" Wind responded from a platform above Legend, "I've got a few more bubbles and floormasters to clear out!"

"No problem, take your time," Legend grumbled, bracing his shield against another heavy blow that made his teeth feel like they were going to rattle out of his skull. He sidestepped the next attack, trying to keep all the darknuts in his line of sight. One was still in full armor with a claymore, the other two had lost most of their armor and were wielding broadswords. Legend narrowed his eyes, focusing on the one that looked the most injured. He could probably take it down in another hit or two, as soon as he found an opening.

The darknut, unfortunately, was smart, and was generally keeping it's distance from him. The other sword-wielding darknut recognized Legend's plan and suddenly lunged forward in an attempt to catch him off guard while his focus was elsewhere.

Fine, guess that one was going down first then.

Legend dodged and quickly struck at the opening as hard as he could, causing the darknut to stumble. He pressed the advantage, raining down blows until the darknut finally collapsed and disappeared in a small cloud of inky smoke.

"Vet, look out!"

The other wounded darknut had closed the distance and attempted to use the smokescreen to help it run Legend through. The Vet simply grinned at the predictable strategy. He readied his sword to fell the monster.

Something bit into his shoulder, and the cold, unnatural sensation of a curse spread from the wound. His sword dropped from his grasp.

Right, Wind had mentioned bubbles.

Legend managed to raise his shield just in time, but the angle of the impact still sent him crashing to the ground. He caught a brief glimpse of his tempered sword's orange blade as it spun by him. He scrambled away from the remaining two darknuts and blindly, frantically, felt around for his weapon, praying for the bubble's curse to fade by the time he found it.

One of the Sailor's arrows flew by his head, pinning the bubble to the ground. It's curse lifted from Legend's shoulders.

The darknuts towered over him, their blades raised.

His fingers grazed a hilt, and the Veteran's heart lept.

He snatched up the blade and plunged it into the wounded darknut right as a battle cry sounded from the platform above and the Sailor dropped onto the head of the other darknut, his own sword sliding right into the gap in the monster's armor right by it's neck. Legend rolled out of the way of the darknut he had just slain as Wind jumped off of the remaining darknut, and together the heroes hacked off it's armor before finally taking it down.

They stood there in the now silent room for a moment, catching their breath.

"Well, that sucked," Legend groaned.

Wind had the audacity to giggle in response. "At least we managed to get out relatively unharmed! …You aren't seriously hurt, right?"

"No, just a lot of cuts and bruises, no big deal," Legend responded dryly, "I would like a nap, though."

"Yeah, a nap sounds good," Wind sighed. "Oh, you dropped your weird orange sword by the way, here!"

"Huh?"

Legend turned to find the tempered sword lying in Wind's hands.

"Where did you pull that other sword from anyway? It looked like it just appeared out of thin air!" Wind asked excitedly. "Is it magic?"

"But, I thought I-"

Legend looked down at the sword in his hands.

The very

very

very familiar sword…

Waves crashing on the shore. Seashells and sand between his fingers. Hair as fiery as the setting sun, and a smile just as radiant. A new blade to help him along his journey, the smell of sea salt forever ingrained in the leather handle.

It was a dream.

It was always a dream…

…

…Was this also… a…?

"-et, hey Vet! Link!"

Who was…

"Link, buddy, you gotta breathe, okay?"

Breathe…

His chest hurt.

"In and out, okay?"

He tried to take a breath, and almost immediately choked. He coughed violently, his chest burning.

"Hey, hey, you're okay. Just try again, okay Link?"

He managed one tiny breath. Then another.

Still too fast, way too fast, he wasn't doing it right, his heart was fluttering like a bird in a cage-

"You're doing great, buddy, take your time. Breathe like I do, okay?"

Someone was holding him. Their chest rose and fell against his cheek, slow and steady, an anchored ship riding the choppy waves. He held on as tightly as he could and listened to the rhythm.

In, out. In, out…

Slowly but surely, Link's breathing began to even out. He exhaled slowly, the motion shaky but relieved.

"Hey, buddy, you back with us?"

Oh, the Sailor was holding him.

"Y-yeah," Legend answered hoarsely, "Sorry to make you deal with that-"

"Hey, hey, none of that," Wind interrupted, holding Legend tighter, "We've all gone through stuff like that, you know? I'll always be happy to help you."

Tears began to gather in Legend's eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. "Okay," he said softly, "Thank you, Sailor."

Wind hummed happily. "Are you ready to get out of here, away from… well, whatever sword that is?"

Legend froze, suddenly catching sight of the blade that lay on the ground by their feet.

It was still there. He hadn't hallucinated it. Why was it still there?

He broke away from the hug, instead holding Wind by the shoulders so that he could look the boy directly in the eyes. The bright blue tunic was soft beneath his fingers in spite of the fairly thick layer of dust and grime from the battle that covered it. Body heat seeped through the fabric. Worry and confusion swam in Wind's eyes.

Legend braced himself.

"Sailor… this might sound like a weird question, but… are you real?"

"I- what?"

"Please," Legend begged, "Just… tell me. Are you real?"

Wind placed his hands over Legend's. "I believe I am. Why do you think I might not be?"

The Vet glanced back down at the sword, still lying on the ground next to his usual tempered blade. "That sword… it's from one of my adventures. In that adventure, I met and grew close to a lot of people. But… it was all a dream. None of it was real, not the island, not that sword, not a single person except me."

He looked up at Wind, eyes frantic. "That sword shouldn't exist, but it does! You can see it, I can see it, but it was just a dream! It was only ever a dream! So please, tell me, what does that make you?"

Wind simply stared back at him in shock.

Legend's shoulders slumped.

"Please…"

He bowed his head in defeat, tears beginning to drip down his cheeks.

"Hey, Vet, hold on," Wind said gently. "Don't give up, we don't have proof either way yet."

"Why's that?" Legend croaked.

"Well, you know, I also had an adventure in a dream. Maybe."

Legend's ears flicked in surprise.

"It was the domain of the Ocean King, a kind of whale deity I think."

Legend's head shot up at that, his eyes wide.

"It was a separate place from my own Great Sea, and no time passed while I was there, but you know what? I had a friend there who was able to come with me back to my world, even though he was from the Ocean King's domain. Do you think, maybe, that sword did something similar?"

"I…" Legend trailed off uncertainly, "I don't know. I didn't think that was possible."

Wind thought for a moment. "Oh, do you have some way to check whether you're awake or asleep? And don't say that you stab yourself or something!" he added quickly, "Because I won't allow that!"

Legend nearly laughed in spite of himself. "No, I don't do that, too risky." He removed his hands from Wind's shoulders to dig through his item pouch, eventually coming up with a small, worn ocarina. "I have a song that can wake anything, even a deity."

Wind giggled softly. "I guess I should have expected that from you. Well, go ahead and play it!"

Legend hesitated, staring at the ocarina.

"Sailor, if… if we are sleeping, and this song wakes us up… we might never see each other again. We might never see the others again either." His hands shook. "I-I'm not ready for that."

A soft, encouraging smile shone on the boy's face. "Veteran, do you wanna know something? I don't think either of us are asleep. I believe this whole adventure has been real. I believe the Champion's cooking was real, and I believe the Captain's playful banter with you was real, and I believe Sky's excitement when we asked about his wood carvings was real."

He cupped his hands around Legend's, holding the ocarina with him as if he was making a wish on it.

"I believe the Smithy's annoyance when that like-like almost ate his shield was real, and I believe the Old Man's smile when he saw Miss Malon again was real. I believe the magic that the Traveler used when he refused to give up on our Rancher was real, and I believe that the strength that the Rancher showed when he returned from the brink was real. I believe that all the time I spent with you, and all the time you spent with us, all of it was real, Veteran. I believe that with my whole heart."

Legend let out a shaky breath as he met Wind's earnest gaze.

"Trust me," Wind said, "Play it. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Slowly, very slowly, the Veteran brought the ocarina to his lips.

"I'm holding you to that promise," he muttered softly, and he began to play.

The Ballad of the Windfish broke the silence of the dungeon, it's notes echoing off the vast stone walls in an utterly beautiful and haunting way. Legend nearly fumbled some of the notes as he felt the song's magic begin to flow, but Wind rested a comforting hand on his leg to steady him.

Trust.

The two heroes closed their eyes as the music washed over them. The notes climbed higher, higher, then…

They stopped.

Silence.

Legend opened his eyes to find Wind smiling back at him.

Nothing had changed.

Legend let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and pulled the boy into an embrace. He buried his face in Wind's shoulder, whispering thanks to the goddesses over and over.

Wind held him just as tightly. "I told you, I told you!" he cheered, bouncing up and down a little in excitement.

The Vet pulled away just enough to give Wind a watery grin. "You did. Thanks, kid. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Hmm, I'll give you a pass on calling me a kid this one time," Wind teased. "Oh, sword's still there, by the way."

"So it is," Legend hummed. "…I think I'm too exhausted to further consider the implications of that right now, though."

"Me too," Wind agreed as he rose to his feet and offered a hand to Legend, "Want to go find the others and leave this problem for future us?"

Legend looked at the two swords for a moment, then carefully ran his fingers over the Koholint sword as if to confirm it was still real. He sighed and sheathed the tempered sword on his back before picking up the Koholint sword. As soon as the thought of where he would store it crossed his mind, it vanished in his hand. He blinked in surprise, then tried willing it back into existence. It reappeared right back in his hand. He vanished it again, and turned to take Wind's hand.

"Yeah, leaving this for later sounds good."

[alwayssassydreamer]

Fire Up The Night

A/N: usually i don't write for Marco but this was a gift for a friend (I don’t remember if you wanted me to tag you or stay "anonymous" 😅) actually meant to be posted on christmas but i f'd up sorry so here's your belated gift

Plot: during a sparring session with marco things take a heated turn

Warnings: smut, nsfw, p in v (implied), MDNI

Characters: Marco x F!Reader

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the training deck, the energy between you and Marco shifted.

You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, fueling your movements as you danced around him.

This time, however, there was no holding back. You were done playing it safe; it was time to take your game to the next level.

With a fierce determination, you feigned to the left, then spun around, aiming for his ribs. Marco anticipated the move and sidestepped effortlessly, but you were quick, pivoting to regain your balance and lunging at him again, your sword gleaming in the fading light.

“Not bad,” he admitted, a hint of challenge in his voice. “But you’re going to have to do better than that if you want to catch me.”

With a sharp intake of breath, you charged at him, forcing him to parry your blows with renewed vigor. Each strike was heavier, fueled by the desire to break through his defenses—not just in the sparring match but in the tension that simmered beneath the surface.

You could see it in his eyes—he was enjoying this just as much as you were, relishing the challenge and the way you pushed him to his limits.

In a sudden surge of boldness, you slipped past his guard, maneuvering your body against his.

“Let’s see how well you handle this,” you teased, leaning in closer, your lips nearly brushing against his cheek as you pressed your body against him.

Marco’s breath hitched for a moment, surprise flashing in his eyes, but it quickly morphed into something darker—something primal.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a challenge.

“I know,” you replied, your tone sultry and daring. “But a little danger makes things more......interesting.”

With that, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your level. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you and the heat radiating between your bodies.

Before he could react, you pressed your lips against his with a fiery passion that ignited the air around you. The kiss was bold and demanding, and Marco responded immediately, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

But this time, he was no longer just reacting. He took control, pushing you back against the wooden training post, pinning you there with a heat that left you breathless. His mouth moved against yours with a fierce urgency, a mix of desire and raw power that sent shivers down your spine.

You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, the strength in his grip making you feel both vulnerable and exhilarated. The kiss became more frantic, more desperate, as you lost yourselves in each other, the boundary between rivalry and something deeper blurring with every passing moment.

As you broke away, panting, your foreheads resting against each other, you could see the desire swirling in his eyes—a hunger that matched your own.

“You’re not afraid to get rough, are you?” he asked, his breath mingling with yours, hot and intoxicating.

“Never,” you shot back, a playful challenge lacing your voice. "Are you?”

He grinned, the mischievous glint in his eye making your heart race.

“Oh, I think I can manage.”

Without warning, he grabbed your wrist again, his grip firm as he twisted you around, forcing you to face the post with your hands pinned above your head.

“Let’s see how long you can keep up this little game of yours,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

A thrill shot through you as you leaned into the pressure, feeling both restrained and excited.

“You think you can intimidate me?” you taunted, your voice low and sultry. “I’ll show you how resilient I am.”

With a swift movement, Marco released one of your wrists, giving you just enough freedom to turn slightly, your bodies brushing together in a tantalizing way. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the power he exuded sending another wave of desire crashing over you.

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him again.

“But you’ll need to be careful. You don’t want to get burned.”

With that, he pressed his lips against yours once more, this time with a fierce passion that left no room for doubt. The kiss deepened, turning more demanding, filled with urgency and a wildness that matched the chaos brewing between you

Each kiss sent another wave of excitement through your body, a thrilling mix of pleasure and urgency.

Marco’s lips were like a fever, igniting every nerve ending as he deepened the kiss, pulling you further into this whirlwind of desire.

Then, as if sensing the tension escalating, Marco decided to turn it up a notch.

His hand slid under your shirt, fingers brushing against your skin with a careful yet possessive touch that made your breath hitch. You gasped into his mouth, feeling his warmth seep into your very core.

The sensation of his fingertips exploring your waist was electric, setting your skin alight in a way you’d never experienced before.You moved your hands instinctively, trailing them along his firm chest, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath your fingers. The heat radiating from him only intensified the thrill coursing through your veins.

It was thrilling to explore this side of him, and you relished the way he reacted to your every touch.

“God, you’re intoxicating,” Marco breathed against your lips, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and urgency.

His fingers continued their journey, tracing delicate patterns along your sides, igniting every inch of your skin where he touched.

"Maybe I should be saying the same about you,” you replied, your tone teasing as you leaned in closer, brushing your lips against his neck. The taste of him lingered in your mouth, and the raw desire swirling between you was palpable.

He tightened his grip on you, pulling you even closer as he tilted his head to give you better access. You kissed along the line of his jaw, feeling the hard contours of his body pressed against yours, making it hard to think straight.

The urgency of the moment made your heart race, and as Marco’s hand slid higher under your shirt, you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan. The sound fueled him further, and he turned to press you against the wooden wall again, his body pinning you in a way that made you feel both vulnerable and powerful.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” he asked, a challenge lacing his voice as his gaze locked onto yours. The intensity of his expression sent shivers down your spine, the playful game now teetering on the edge of something much more profound.

“I’ve never backed down from a challenge,” you shot back, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you leaned in to kiss him again. This time, the kiss was hungry, filled with a passion that had been building between you from the very start.

As you pulled away momentarily to catch your breath, Marco’s fingers lingered just under your ribs, teasingly brushing against your skin.

“You’re playing with fire, you know,” he warned, his voice low and husky, filled with a mixture of desire and something more protective.

“And I’m not afraid to get burned,” you replied, your confidence surging.

You could see the flicker of approval in his eyes, the way his smile hinted at both amusement and admiration.

“Are you really sure about this?” Marco murmured between kisses, his breath warm against your lips

"I wouldn't be here if I weren't,” you replied, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart. You could feel the warmth pooling in your core, igniting every nerve ending as you surrendered to the moment. With a determined glint in your eyes, you pulled him closer.

Every touch felt electric, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, craving more of the heat he radiated.

“I want to see how far we can take this,” you whispered, your voice a mix of challenge and invitation. There was something intoxicating about the way he looked at you, as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

Marco’s eyes darkened with desire, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Careful what you wish for,” he replied, his tone teasing yet serious.

His hands moved again, this time sliding lower, finding the hem of your shirt and pushing it up, revealing more of your skin. The cool air sent goosebumps racing across your body, heightening your awareness of every sensation.

“I could easily take you right here,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with promise.

The heat in his gaze made your heart race, the idea both thrilling and terrifying. You raised an eyebrow, feeling bold.

“Then what are you waiting for?” you teased, your voice laced with challenge.

The air crackled with tension, and Marco’s expression shifted from playful to serious, the weight of your words sinking in.

“You really want that?” he asked, his tone suddenly more intense.

“Maybe I do,” you replied biting your lip, the adrenaline coursing through you making you feel invincible

His gaze bore into yours, a mixture of desire and something deeper reflected in those vibrant eyes.

“Then let’s make it a night to remember,” he declared, his voice steady with conviction.

He led you to a quiet corner, where the stars twinkled above and the sound of the ocean filled the air. The moonlight spilled over the deck, casting soft shadows that danced around you.

he closed the space between you, capturing your lips again in a kiss that was both hungry and tender. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as you melted into him. It was a dance of passion, an exploration of the uncharted territory between you.

Just as you thought things couldn’t get any more heated, Marco broke the kiss and trailed his lips down your neck, sending waves of sensation rippling through you.

“You feel amazing,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and intoxicating. The way he spoke, filled with desire, made your heart race even faster.

“Marco…” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper as you tilted your head back, granting him better access.

The sensations were overwhelming, and you found yourself surrendering to the pleasure he was invoking within you.

Suddenly, he paused, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I could get used to this,” he teased, his gaze lingering on your flushed cheeks

You began to explore, your hands roaming over his chest and shoulders, feeling the taut muscles as you pushed his shirt off. Marco watched you intently, a mixture of admiration and desire in his gaze as you confidently explored this new dynamic between you.

But he wasn’t about to let you have all the fun. With a swift motion, he turned the tables again, gripping your waist and lifting you effortlessly, placing you against the railing.

Your heart racing as you kissed him again.

As the kiss deepened, you could feel his hands tightening around your waist, fingers digging in just enough to remind you of the strength he possessed. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him even closer as the world around you faded into insignificance.

In a single motion, he lifted your shirt over your head, exposing your skin to the cool night air, contrasting with the heat building between you. You gasped at the sensation, the thrill of vulnerability heightening your desire for him.

He took a moment to admire you, his eyes roaming over your body, drinking in the sight before him.

“You’re breathtaking,” he breathed, his voice thick with admiration.

You felt a rush of heat at his words, a mix of pride and excitement swelling within you.

“Show me how breathtaking I am,” you urged, your voice steady and filled with anticipation.

With that, Marco’s lips descended on you again, exploring every inch of your skin, every curve, every secret that made you who you were. His hands roamed, gripping your waist, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You could feel the heat building between you, a hunger that was all-consuming. Each kiss, each caress only fueled the fire until you thought you might explode with desire. The night air was thick with tension as you both surrendered to the moment, losing yourselves in the sensations that enveloped you

As you explored each other’s bodies, Marco’s touch was both gentle and commanding, igniting a fire within you that demanded to be fed

The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of salt from the sea and something uniquely him. The heat of your bodies intertwined, and every kiss ignited sparks of electricity that made your skin tingle.

His hands found their way back to your waist, fingers deftly unbuttoning your pants with a confidence that made your heart race. You gasped as he slipped them down, leaving you vulnerable yet exhilarated.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his gaze filled with lust.

You felt a thrill run through you at his words, a blend of shyness and confidence as you pulled him closer, pressing your body against his

With a grin, Marco wasted no time in lifting you off the ground, cradling you against him as he found a more comfortable place and position. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him as he maneuvered you with ease, pressing you against the soft, worn wood of the deck.

He took a moment to admire you again, his eyes roaming hungrily over your exposed skin, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow around you.

“You’re a temptation I never knew I needed,” he said, his voice low and filled with intensity.

The moments became a blur of heat and passion, the sounds of the ocean the only witness to your intimacy. With each caress and kiss, you felt the barrier between you dissolve, leaving nothing but the raw, unfiltered connection that sparked between you.

As the intensity grew, Marco’s kisses traveled down your neck, his warm breath sending shivers through your body. He paused to nibble at your collarbone before moving to your nipples, drawing a gasp from you, and you could feel the tension building within you, a throbbing need that only he could satiate.

“Marco,” you breathed, your voice thick with desire. “Please.”

His eyes locked onto yours, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice teasing.

"I want you" you whined

With a low chuckle, he obliged, his lips finding yours again as he shifted your bodies, positioning you just right. The night air caressed your skin, contrasting the heat radiating from both of you, and every touch, every kiss felt electric.

As the intensity escalated, Marco’s movements became more urgent, and you could feel the tension between you building to a near-breaking point. He kissed you deeply, capturing your breath as his hands began to roam lower, teasing you with tantalizing touches that made your heart race.

With a swift movement, he slipped your panties aside, leaving you completely exposed to his gaze and touch. You gasped at the sensation, the thrill of vulnerability mixing with the hunger burning inside you.

Marco took his time, exploring every inch of you, his fingers skillfully teasing your clit, coaxing soft moans from your lips.

“Marco, please,” you begged, the urgency in your voice growing more pronounced as the waves of pleasure built within you.

He grinned, his eyes dark with desire.

“Patience,” he whispered, leaning down to place soft kisses along your thighs as one hand played with your nipples the other circling your clit driving you to the brink of madness.

You felt yourself getting closer to the edge, your body craving more as he worked his magic, but just as you were about to tumble over the edge, he pulled away, leaving you gasping for breath.

“Marco!” you cried out, frustration lacing your voice.

“Just a little longer,” he teased, his smile infuriatingly charming. “I want you to remember this.”

With that, he captured your lips again, kissing you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours as he brought you back to the heights of ecstasy. As the kiss deepened, you felt him aligning himself against you, his body pressing closer, and you could feel the unmistakable heat of desire radiating from him.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low and filled with promise. You nodded, your heart racing as you felt the world around you disappear once again.

“Yes,” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips as he positioned himself against you.

With a slow, deliberate movement, he entered you, and you gasped at the sensation, the initial stretch igniting another wave of pleasure that crashed over you.

Your breath coming in shallow gasps as the heat within you grew.

Marco began to move, slowly at first, as if savoring every moment. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting every nerve ending in your body. You could feel the tension building again, the heat rising between you as your bodies moved together in perfect harmony.

The world outside faded completely, leaving only the sound of the ocean and your shared breaths. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, the intimacy between you deepening with every moment as you let out a loud moan.

Marco responded with a low growl, his pace quickening as he pushed you closer to the edge. The tension built to an unbearable level, and you felt yourself on the brink of madness, a wave of ecstasy threatening to pull you under.

“Marco!” you cried out, your voice rising in pitch as pleasure coursed through you, overwhelming your senses.

With a final thrust, the world exploded around you, and you surrendered to the ecstasy that enveloped you, your body arching against his as you cried out his name, lost in the sensation and not caring if anyone could hear you.

Marco followed soon after, his release washing over him in waves as he pressed his body against yours, their connection deepening as the two of you rode the high together.

In the aftermath, as the waves of pleasure subsided, you found yourself wrapped in Marco’s arms, both of you breathless and entwined. The world felt both endless and timeless, a perfect moment suspended between you.

“Wow,” you breathed, still reeling from the intensity of what had just transpired.

Marco chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his eyes filled with warmth.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect that either.”

You smiled, a mix of satisfaction and mischief dancing in your gaze. “Neither did I. But it was worth it.”

[emeraldsfanfics]

You Make My Heart Race

○A Rise!Donnie x speedster!fem!reader oneshot Romantic○

Reader based on CW Barry Allen/Flash

S/n= superhero name

Warnings: ●Flustered Donnie● ●reader is flirty●

Donnie had never been one for emotions, ESPIACALLY ones to do with positive...egh...feelings. Always being isolated, most times, days at a time in his lab. Just him and his inventions, how he was satisfied with.

During patrol or battles he can be his chaotic and mischievous self. That's where he also felt like himself.

"DONNIE!" Raph barged into Donnie's lab.

"SWEET BANANA WAFFLES!" Donnie jumped like a cat in surprise. Gripping onto his chair, "What the heck Raph, annoyed sigh, I was working on very important upgrades to the bo."

"Sorry Don, but we have to go ASAP, Mikey saw some trucks loading the goo, it's a big mama operation." Raph explained, now both on their way to the crime with Leo and Mikey with them.

Donatello did not verbally respond, only rolling his eyes on response. He did guess he could go lethal on the henchmen. Eventually meeting Leo , Mikey and April on top of a rooftop.

"So we should go in, kick their butt's and give the goo thing to Donnie." Leo told everyone.

"And have a movie marathon later." Mikey smiled.

"Oh! Maybe we should-" April started but was interrupted by Raph.

"But we need a actual PLAN." Raph said.

"Boy you did not just interrupt me." April narrowed her eyes.

"Sorry April." Raph scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"We have to catch them in surprise, y'know, actually be-" April was cut off yet again. (Poor girlie 😭)

"Amazing got that!" Leo jumped off the roof.

"Kalbanga!" Mikey followed.

"Raphs got this!" Raph said next.

"Yay for violence!" Donnie exclaimed unenthusiasticlly, flying down.

Landing, Donnie seen April, Raph, Leo and Mickey were standing in awe, "Oh my gosh it's s/n! Oh I gotta get a picture." All of them pulling out their phone, "no a video!"

Donnie raised his eyebrow, "And who is this, s/n?"

"Don, have you seriously been in that lab for too long?" April chuckled, holding the phone.

"Another annoyed sigh, this person can't be that important-" He took one look at this s/n. Faster than the speed of light, seeing lightning as they were being beaten and tied up.

All tied up in a pretty bow, with your signature color. The goo gathered in a safe group. You turn to see them, a goo canister on your hand, wink at Donnie, who didn't even know he was staring. Leaving in a blink of an eye.

"THAT WAS SO COOL!" The brothers all cheered. Also shaking Donnie, who was still blushing, eyes blanked.

Back at the lair, everyone was still talking about what had just happened.

"SHE IS ALMOST AS COOL AS ME!" Leo almost fanboyed.

"Did you see how quick she was!" Raph said excitedly.

"Like it was nothing to her! Mikey added, "imagine how cool it would be to have her fight alongside us. Don, what do you think about s/n?"

"Yes, she would be quite productive." Donnie muttered. Your e/c eyes, staring right back at him, shining. Your smile made it's way in the turtles mind.

"Productive? That's it?" April said, figuring he would say something at least criticizing the hero.

"Oh look at the time, see you later dumb dumbs!" Donnie ran to his lab. Everyone raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Well...that was weird?" Leo broke the silence. As always.

"Yeah." April said, getting up to leave the lair.

"Wanna see who can balance the most things on their shell?" Mikey asked.

"YEAH!" They all exclaim, running off.

Meanwhile, with Donnie, he was researching everything he could about this so called, s/n. You. For scientific research, of course. Seems you are pretty mysterious, only flashes of you were caught on camera.

However, there were picures of you with citizens, seemed like you were most concerned about them. Reports were always more about trying to figure out your secret identity. News articles, blogs, influencers, the police force. Everyone wanted to know who is behind the mask.

Next thing you know he was staying up for hours trying to find out what exactly are you. A human? Mutant? Alien? Definitely not HUMAN, but you did look human.

A pretty one-

You can say he was looking foward to seeing you again. Blushing at the thought.

Happening sooner than he thought. The turtles were out on patrol, April not being able to make it, apparently her friend Y/n had something to show her. Who she had never mentioned before.

There she was. The beautiful speedster, right there, fighting a giant lizard mutant. Fascinating, he thought to himself.

"DON STOP WITH THE GOOGLY EYES AND HELP US!" Raph instructed, everyone going into action.

"I'M NOT MAKING GOOGLY EYES!" Donnie angrily replied.

You already hid April somewhere safe, before telling your best friend that you're s/n. Not before they figured out your location and attacked you. Quickly getting into your suit with a ring you invented.

The lizard wacked you towards a wall, that would've happened if not for a turtle in purple? He stood there frozen with dilated eyes and his face red. Making eye contact.

"Uhh thanks Mr...?" You ask, getting down.

He cleared his throat, "R-right-" He was so confused, he NEVER stuttered before, "I'm Donnie."

"S/n." You smirked, "see you over there Pretty Boy." leaving extremely fast. Leaving Donnie with a racing heart. 'Wow.' He thought.

Seeing turtles fighting and talking wasn't the weirdest thing you've seen after all. Besides, he was cute.

You feel the electricity course through your veins, picking up the speed. Raph had started doing hand to hand punches with the lizard, while Leo had been doing portals to confused it. Mikey had just been wacking it with his nunchucks.

After the lizard had threw all three of them off of him. But the turtles wouldn't give up. This is when Donnie gotten his bo out, "Time to go lethal." He laughed like a manic. "Now I can play." Bro just went full on attacking the lizard with a chainsaw on fire. If only he had uranium.

Raph and Mikey had to stop him from going fully lethal on it. Which only took 20 minutes, you just sat there and watched. Waiting for your turn, just because your fast doesn't mean you aren't patient.

Growing tired with a yawn, this is when you felt that electrical feeling again, rushing towards the lizard as it was going towards Leo, kicking it squard in the jaw with electricity.

"Nailed it!" Leo exclaimed, turning to you, "Leo, By the way."

"Names-"

"I'M MIKEY PLEASE SIGN MY.SHELL!" Mikey said excitedly.

"Um sure just-" You said, leaving and coming back with a pen on two seconds. Signing his shell.

"Sorry for my brother's, thanks for the help s/n." Raph apologized.

April came back running, "I see you met my friend." She said smugly.

"Oh! These are the brothers you were talking about." You said in realization.

'Wait she knows about me?!' Donnie slightly panicked mentally.

"Yes! This is Raph, Leo, Mikey and Donnie." She pointed at Donnie, "We should all meet sometime." April added.

"Yall were cool out there." You smiled, "but atlas, I must depart, yknow, life as a superhero..."

They all frown but say their goodbyes nonetheless.

You look over at Donnie, "Bye Pretty Boy." You winked again before running off.

What you didn't see is Donnie's confidence melting, freezing and burnt face. Pupils dilated again, stopping his little tail from wagging.

All of the brothers, including April were beyond shocked. Their Donnie would have cringed or say something sassy as a comeback. But no, he stood there in a lovesick mess.

"DONNIE HAS A CRUSHHH!" Mikey poked his arm.

"MY BABY BROTHER HAS THE HOTS FOR THE SUPERHERO!" Raph said excitedly.

"MY BROTHER IS GROWN!" Leo wiped a fake tear.

"I SHIP IT!" April exclaimed. Now she is definitely going to set you two up.

Donnie had finallysnapled out of his trance, "Angred grunt, I don't do "crushes" not for me. Now will you excuse me, I shall be on my way." He said, going on his phone only for everyone to see the videos on you on his screen.

"No crushes he said." Leo snickered.

[rafesweetie]

okay now we’ve read the sunny x race fic… let’s talk about sunny x pope hmm…

⋆˚࿔ sweetener ꥟ ˚⋆ — pope heyward x sunny!reader

“ you come through like the sweetener you are, bring the bitter taste to a halt, then you… “

cw ; smut (implied but not detailed whatsoever), instinuations of public sex on the beach. not proofread!

pope thinks of himself as such a hypocrite. a couple years ago, he was lecturing john b about bringing in a kook to the sacrid group of pogues — and now here he was, dating you on the low.

he could never tell his friends about you. but oh how he wish he could. you’re stunning, with hair that blows so gracefully in the breeze, a smile on your lips (which are usually chapped from the sun) whenever you’re around pope. he wants to talk to his friends about you for hours, you’re so sweet. but, you’re a kook.

so pope hates to say it, but he kind of uses you to get away from his stressful life. you’re blissfully ignorant to the shit he gets up to with the pogues, happy to spend your nights and days on the beach with him, tracing his abs, sucking on his bottom lip and giggling with him, smiling a bit brighter whenever he calls you “baby.” maybe ‘uses’ is the wrong word when it comes to why on earth pope spends with you, a kook, but moreso a distraction from his life.

pope had texted you half an hour ago to meet him by the beach beside the marina. no doubt he’d had a rough day and just needed to carress you for hours. you were looking forward to it greatly. but by the time you arrived, moonlight caressing your face, you frown because he’s no where to be seen. you’d never liked nightime as it is, preferring the sun, where you can see what’s rustling in the trees and what shadows are in front of you, and you like it even less when your favourite company isn’t with you.

you lay down a blanket on the sand and sit there for a bit. it’s 9:30 now, you got here at 9. with a huff, you text pope, saying, “hey pope im so sorry but i might have to go home soon because its late and chilly. where are you?”

you don’t get a chance to respond when you feel hands on your shoulders from, behind. with a shriek, assuming it’s a scary monster in the dark, you turn arouynd and cover your mouth to shut yourself up the minute you see its only pope.

“hi— sorry, pope, you scared me,” you say softly, patting the spot beside you on the. blanket. “what took so long?

“hey baby, sorry. here, my dad gave me some fries to give you ‘cause i was late,” he hands you the fries from his dads restuarant. “rough night,”

you’ve never really asked what’s wrong when pope is upset, but you assume what happened is worse than usual because he was late for you. so you ask, “what’s wrong?”

“long story,” he says, leaning back on his elbows. “have some fries,”

“i will after you tell me what’s up. you’re never late, always way too punctual. so, what’s up?”

“uh— i’ll put it simply, alright?” he checks and you nod, happy for anything. “my family has this hierloom, ‘s really valuable and historic, and some kook stole it from me and the pogues, and melted it down to sell,”

“oh. wow, um, im sorry pope, don’t even know what to say, that’s really tough,” you say gently, eyebrows furrowed a bit as you pop a fry into your mouth. “wanna cry?” that makes him smile a bit as he shakes his head.

“no, nah, baby. appreciate the offer though.” he smiles at you.

“then what do you need?”

“think you know,” is all he says.

everything else is a blur. tongues, limbs twisted together, little smiles. everything tonight is slow — gentle. nights like these are your absolute favourite.

“dunno what i’d do without you in my life, baby,” he whispers while he’s on top of you, slowly sliding in and out discreetly through your underwear in case someone is taking a late night walk. “it’d be so sour,”

[calitsnow]

Hi 👋 I've seen your theories on limbus company and I'd like to have your opinion on the chapter 8 ? Did you watch the live ? Any theories so far ?

Hi! First, thank you for the ask and sorry I took a long time to answer !

I did watch the live and it was super interesting but of course what I was the most interested in was the preview image for Canto VIII. And so of course I have some things to say regarding this image:

Firstly, regarding the original title, I’ve already seen many people mention the direct translation of the Korean title, which would literally give something like: “There is no other choice but to look.”

If we were to adapt it to make the sentence sound more natural in English, it would be: “I have no choice but to look.”

수밖에 없는 is a grammatical structure often used to express the lack of choice or alternatives.

We can’t help but draw a parallel between this phrase and Hong Lu’s situation: Hong Lu has no choice but to observe and accept his situation and what happens to him. It emphasizes his lack of choice and personal will, as well as his inability to act upon it.

The use of a verb related to the sense of the view is always amusing when talking about Hong Lu.

Now, looking at the English title: “The Surrendered Witnessing”, I think it can be interpreted this way:

Hong Lu is the surrendered one: he is the one who has yielded, abandoned, and submitted.

Thus, he now merely observes and accepts what happens around him, as well as what happens to him/what he is asked to do, etc.

Strangely or not, I can’t help but think, when reading these two titles, of a very important Taoist concept for the character Jia Baoyu: “wu wei” (无为).

In Taoist philosophy, wu wei is often translated as “non-action” or “effortless action”. This does not mean total inaction but rather a way of acting in harmony with the natural flow of things, without forcing or resisting. It’s the idea of letting things unfold naturally.

However, if this concept has been corrupted by the influence of Hong Lu’s family and, in a way, by the tone of Limbus Company’s world, we can quickly see how this concept could have been distorted and used to shape a docile Hong Lu who relies on this idea of non-action to accept and justify what happens to him and what he has likely endured for a long time.

Perhaps this is even the famous concept Faust mentioned, which Hong Lu relies on to avoid breaking down and distorting. After all, if one considers it normal to act and respond according to the influence of one’s surroundings (for Hong Lu, his family) and to accept this as self-evident in a way, then it is probably easier to live with such a situation. But if this foundation is questioned, then everything Hong Lu has accepted and endured is also called into question, inevitably leading to the question: “Then why did I endure all of this if not for that reason?”

Of course, Hong Lu’s character makes it easier for him to accept this vision, and his upbringing and naivety undoubtedly play a role.

As for the Chinese phrase on the right 不思观望: it could be translated as “Do not hesitate or wait and see,” or, to elaborate, “Avoid overthinking and hesitating.”

• 不: not —> mark of negation

• 思: consider / think of / long for / miss / think

• 观望: wait and see, watch something from the sidelines (waiting without taking action)

It seems to respond to the title and directly contradict it.

It appears to encourage taking action and not waiting, emphasizing avoiding overthinking or remaining in passive observation.

Is this the influence of Lin Daiyu?

Regardless, it seems to be adresed to Hong Lu and to invite him to break from this mechanism of « non-action » and to move forward / take action.

Then, if we look a little at this teaser image itself, we can see Hong Lu’s house, his mansion, still in these red colors but appearing much larger and more imposing than I would have thought based on what we could see in his EGO. But what we see in Hong Lu’s EGO might just be an interior part of the mansion.

The mansion indeed seems “closed” and surrounded by walls protecting it from the outside.

Finally, this turquoise luminous mist surrounding the mansion is quite interesting because, first, it obviously evokes the idea that this place is a lost illusion, created through an illusory fog.

The fact that its color is close to that of Hong Lu makes me wonder if this illusion is maintained somehow through Hong Lu’s existence or presence.

Potpourri of small ideas and theories (The first 4 are more affirmative than the others):

1. A theory I’ve had for a long time: Hong Lu actually ran away from his home in our world, and his family is looking for him.

2. Recovering the golden bough won’t be the hardest thing and might even be given to us by Hong Lu’s family in exchange for his return.

3. The golden bough will be located at the center of the mansion in a place called the Prospect Garden —> a place where Jia Baoyu spent part of his childhood/adolescence with his maids and cousins.

4. Hong Lu’s EGO phrase will change to: “Let’s go visit the Paradise of Truth” (the new name for The Land of Illusions during Jia Baoyu’s second visit at the end of the novel).

5. Hong Lu is (linked) to an abnormality (maybe Yin and Yang).

6. Does Hong Lu have a connection with the Moonstone?

7. Does Hong Lu bear the Mark of Cain? (Yes, I want to know which other sinner(s) have this f*cking mark. Sonia hinted at it!)

8. The fairy-like abnormality will appear / be relevant for this Canto to make a parallel between the fairies from Dream of the Red Chamber and the ones from Limbus Company. They also share a color palette similar to the one of Hong Lu’s left eye.

Thank you for the ask!

[judeable-brainrot]

Hey i was wondering if i could request a little smut where the reader (any gender) wants to go out on dates and hook up again but theyre self conscious, they dont feel attractive or worry about if theyll be good in bed so patrick decides to 'help them through it' and rip the bandaid off so they feel like they can go out and meet people again

always pook!! (made this gn! thanks for that freedom! sorry this took so goddamn long!!)

sighhh Patrick who just wants you to be the most confident version of yourself you can be! he doesn't like to see you unhappy, it makes him unhappy. so of course, when you come to him asking for some advice on how best to get yourself back out there, he's ready for the task at hand!

he talks to you about his idea: he'll take you on a date and sleep with you, give you the best experience he can, to help you feel your best self and get back out there. you're hesitant but he reassures you there are no strings attached, no feelings, he just wants you to be happy! so eventually, after setting some boundaries, you say yes and he plans. he sets up a dinner reservation at your favorite sushi place, buys new bedsheets, actually cleans up his apartment to get ready for you.

he picks you up, opens the door for you, smiles and compliments you repeatedly, doing his hardest to make this night lovely for you. you're laughing and drinking and having a great time all evening, even getting a little touchy with confidence. when he eventually brings you back to his apartment, he goes slowly, kissing you soft with a firm hand around your waist. he guides you inside, shutting the door. you keep your arms around his neck, gently licking into his mouth while he walks you into the bedroom, hoisting you onto your bed and setting you down softly. he removes your shoes, your socks, your top, asking the entire way down to just your boxers.

he lets you take his own clothes off, letting you see him piece by piece and that just sets your motor purring and suddenly, this isn't so slow anymore. you're grabbing his neck and smashing your lips against his, moaning and grinding up against him. he's got whiplash but goes with it, rocking his hips down on your own while he fishes a condom from his discarded pants pocket. you snatch it from his hand and tear into it, gently rolling it onto him before meeting his eyes.

"fuck me."

and he does just that, not even bothering to stretch your hole open as he spits onto his cock and slowly guides himself inside, that hookup brain taking over. you whine and writhe on him but soon the pain gives to hot pleasure and you're going brainless while he whispers in your ear. "so fucking hot baby...god you're so good, this pretty little hole...fuck―can't believe you don't have people around the block for you―ah!―" it's driving you mad, his words fueling the fire in you. your body bounces with every thrust and you claw at his shoulders and swipe your tongue lazily around his mouth. he goes and goes and goes until he feels you clench down hard around him, and he's gone with you.

you both lay there, spent and sticky for a long time before you mutter out a shaky "thanks.." which he responds to with an equally shaky "no problem..." the next week, you installed Tinder.

[mattsfavouritewhore]

Why Her Part 3 - Matthew Sturniolo

a/n: I am so sorry it has taken me so long. But i'm back now and I hope you guys enjoy. ALSO TAKING REQUESTS!!!

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, arguing

Summary: Did matt get rid of his gf for you?

PART 2: why her part 2

PART 1: why her

A month had gone past.. you hadn't heard from matt once. Once matt left your place that day, you had filled nick in on everything and he said he'd keep an eye out for you and report back about everything he heard and saw. Nothing had come up from nick besides from a few messages saying he stayed in his room and that she hadn't been over.

But today, your phone pinged...

Nick: Im so sorry y/n.

Your heart dropped... you knew exactly what that meant. She was over. He had chosen her over you. Anger. Tears threaten to spill out of anger. You felt stupid. Stupid for having hope. Stupid for thinking you were more than pussy to fuck. Thinking that he actually wanted you.

You didn't respond to Nick's message.

A week past and you were trying your best to move on. The gym became your second home, and your friends kept you busy with outings and events, hoping to distract you from the mess Matt left behind. Still, every once in a while, you'd catch yourself scrolling through social media, seeing updates of Matt and Maria. Each picture felt like a knife in your chest, a reminder of what could’ve been.

But one evening, after a particularly grueling workout, you got another ping from Nick.

Nick: You might want to come over. You: Why? Nick: Matt broke up with her.

You froze. Your heart raced as a million thoughts filled your head. Was this real? Why now? What did he want? You typed back hesitantly.

You: And what does that have to do with me? Nick: Just come over. He won’t stop talking about you.

Against your better judgment, you threw on a hoodie and leggings, grabbed your keys, and headed to Nick’s place. The drive felt endless, and by the time you arrived, your palms were sweating. You knocked on the door, and Nick greeted you with a small smile.

"He's upstairs," Nick said, stepping aside to let you in.

You hesitated. "What exactly am I walking into?"

Nick shrugged. "A mess, probably. But I think you’ll want to hear what he has to say."

You sighed and made your way upstairs, each step heavier than the last. When you reached the door to Matt's room, you paused. The muffled sound of music played from inside, and you could hear faint shuffling. You knocked lightly.

“Come in,” Matt’s voice called out.

You opened the door to find him sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. He looked up when you entered, and the sight of his red, puffy eyes took you by surprise.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice hoarse.

"Hey," you replied, staying by the door. "Nick said you wanted to talk."

He nodded, standing up and taking a step closer to you. “I broke up with Maria.”

"I heard." You crossed your arms, trying to keep your cool. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I realized I was being an idiot," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "I was scared. Scared of ruining what we had, scared that I’d mess things up between us. But being with her made me see how much I don’t want anyone else. It’s you. It’s always been you."

Your heart clenched, but you didn’t let your guard down. "It took you this long to figure that out? After everything?"

"I know I hurt you," he said, stepping closer. "And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me. But I need you to know that I’m done running. I’m done hiding how I feel."

You stared at him, your emotions swirling in a chaotic mess. "How do I know this isn’t just another phase? That you won’t change your mind again?"

He reached out, gently taking your hands in his. "Because I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I don’t want to be without you. Not for another second."

Tears welled in your eyes as his words sank in. For the first time, they felt real. Genuine. "Matt..."

He cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that spilled over. "Just say the word, and I’m yours. No more games, no more distractions. Just us."

You looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of doubt, but all you saw was sincerity. Slowly, you nodded.

"You had a month.. you left me, no words, for a month... and then i find out you picked her over me." you whispered.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. "I’m not going to mess this up again. I promise."

You believed him. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could finally breathe.

Maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something real.

"Okay."

You stood there, his hands still cradling your face, his breath mingling with yours. The tension was unbearable, and before either of you could think twice, his lips crashed against yours. It wasn’t gentle or tentative—it was desperate, like he’d been starving for this moment. You melted into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled you closer, his grip firm but careful.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered against your lips, his voice low and hoarse.

"Don’t you dare," you replied breathlessly.

That was all he needed. His hands slid down to your waist, gripping tightly as he backed you toward the bed. You let him guide you, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. When the back of your knees hit the mattress, he lifted you effortlessly, laying you down and crawling over you, his body pressing into yours in a way that made your pulse race.

His lips left yours, trailing down your neck, where he nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin, drawing soft gasps from you. Your hands roamed his back, slipping beneath his hoodie to feel the warmth of his skin. He sat up just long enough to yank the hoodie off, revealing his toned chest, and you couldn’t help but run your hands over him, marveling at the way his muscles tensed under your touch.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he murmured, leaning back down to kiss you again, his lips hot and urgent.

"Then don’t stop," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He didn’t need further encouragement. His hands found the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head and tossing it aside. His lips trailed down your collarbone, and his hands slid behind your back to unclasp your bra, his movements practiced yet filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

As the fabric fell away, his lips found your bare skin, his tongue flicking over a hardened peak, drawing a moan from your lips. His hands wandered lower, toying with the waistband of your leggings. He looked up at you, his dark eyes searching yours for permission.

"Please," you whispered, lifting your hips to help him slide the fabric down.

He discarded the leggings and your panties in one swift motion, his gaze raking over your exposed body. "You’re perfect," he said, his voice filled with awe, before leaning down to kiss a trail from your navel to your inner thighs.

His lips found your core, and the first touch of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure through you. He worked you expertly, his tongue circling and flicking, his lips sucking gently, drawing moan after moan from you as your hands fisted the sheets beneath you.

"Matt, oh my god," you gasped, your hips bucking against his mouth as he held you firmly in place. The coil in your stomach tightened with every movement, and it wasn’t long before you were teetering on the edge.

"Let go," he murmured against you, his voice vibrating through your core. The sensation sent you over the edge, your body arching as waves of pleasure crashed over you, your cries filling the room.

He kissed his way back up your body, his lips meeting yours again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. As he settled between your legs, you reached for the button of his jeans, fumbling in your haste to undo them.

"Slow down," he said with a soft chuckle, his voice husky as he helped you remove the last barrier between you. He rolled on a condom quickly, his gaze locked on yours as he lined himself up with your entrance.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice gentle, his eyes searching yours.

"Yes," you breathed, pulling him closer.

He pushed into you slowly, both of you gasping as he filled you completely. He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust, before he began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, each one sending a shiver through your body.

"God, you feel so good," he groaned, burying his face in your neck.

Your nails raked down his back as you wrapped your legs around him, urging him deeper. The pace quickened, the sound of skin against skin mixing with your breathless moans and his guttural groans. The tension built again, the pressure mounting until it was almost unbearable.

"I’m close," you gasped, your head falling back against the pillows.

"Me too," he panted, his movements growing erratic.

With one final thrust, the two of you came undone together, your bodies trembling as you rode out the waves of pleasure. He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as you both caught your breath.

For a while, neither of you said anything, the silence filled only with the sound of your breathing. But when he finally spoke, his voice was soft and filled with certainty.

"I’m not going anywhere," he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him.

A/N: this will probs be the last part unless someone comes up with a good plot (open to suggestions of all kinds)

LMKK WHAT YOU GUYS THINKKK

[amazingdeadfish]

Girlie you drew.Peng...

Totally nor going crazy abt this...

...

*Screams into the void*

So like, I'm like 43% sure that this little note was sent into my inbox maybe like... not too long after I posted the most recent Good Omens Shadowpuppet post. And I kid you not when I say that when I drew Peng for that, something possessed me. Because I nailed the general jist of their design pretty much first try (same for Yellow Tusk, like, I don't know what happened but somehow it miraculously worked out).

And then when I tried to draw them again in response to this little ask, I just... couldn't.

So here is Peng. In their... well... something happened to them, but I'm not sure what.

[nightwonder7]

Does Wayne find anything suspicious about Maxwell lately?

Maybe a little.

[deoidesign]

Hello! I just discovered your blog and I immediately became captivated by your webcomic, but I'm unsure where to read all of it. I know it's on Webtoons, but I can see it hasn't been updated for a while, and you still post about it.

Are your physical novels just prints of the webcomic? Are they a continuation? Is the story complete? Thanks in advance!

Hi there!

Glad you found me and are enjoying my comic!

It's only on webtoons, and the story is not complete yet! We're 2/3 of the way through right now. It's currently on hiatus, and it's scheduled to come back in about 2 months!

I'll explain why it's been so long if you're curious, but also for my followers who might also be wondering about it under the cut. Sorry, it's pretty much just me complaining haha

I took a month off I took 2 months to get the books printed I took a month to prepare my next comic and I took 2 months to write the rest of the series (I knew the character arcs I wanted, but not the time periods or mysteries!!!) I've been working on actual episodes since then

I had to take some time off because of some pretty extreme burnout due to the sheer amount of work it was to draw over 800 pages and write 6 complete stories in a year and a half... I was getting sick almost weekly due to the overwork, it was really really bad honestly. I was having to work 60+ hours every week just to keep up...

The nature of the comic itself is also difficult... Each of the arcs is a complete, self contained story which can be read (ideally) without context, and my arcs need to be about 10-13 episodes each... And since I have an exact number of episodes to work with, it's even harder.

It takes a ton of planning and a ton of refinement, and working week to week with no breaks I was forced to put out second or even first drafts, so I just wasn't happy with the work I was doing... And to do that for the rest of the series? I wouldn't be proud of the work I did.

Plus... To be entirely honest, webtoon has treated me quite badly IN MY OPINION... They deprioritized me before I launched (I had to beg for more promotion, I'm not exaggerating), they outright denied me the opportunity to even ask for a raise, I don't make any money on fast pass and they pay me less than my partner makes working at trader joes. My first editor left me completely hanging, my second editor (who I loved) was fired... And they told me I wouldn't get a third season before my first season even finished. So it was just repeatedly completely demoralizing.

I'm sorry it has taken so long, it'll have been 10 months by the time I come back. But I realized... I won't get promotion either way. I won't get more episodes either way. I won't get more money either way. So to finish everything, to make it feel good, to make it something I'm proud of, I chose to take longer to make it better.

I am fully aware I will lose a significant amount of my readership for this and it might genuinely affect my career moving forward. But it's what I had to do! So I'm sticking to my guns on it, and I'm confident long term it'll be worth it. It never could have been this good if I didn't take this much time.

[millennium-queen]

No because I was so surprised at the amount of people who think Peeta would have pressured Katniss into having kids. Like did they not understand his character at all?? If anything the MOST he would have done is ask her over the years of she felt she was ready, and then backed off when she said no. It's more likely that Katniss could tell that he pined for children by watching him interact with the kids in the district, and others (possibly Haymitch) brought the topic up with her. But Peeta forcing her or guiltily her into it? Never!

HONESTLY!! HONESTLY!!

My personal headcannon is maybe a little controversial lmaoo but I actually think that Peeta wouldn’t be in a rush to have a baby post MJ anyway?

Just like how Katniss has her reservations about having kids because of the trauma that the games inflicted on every aspect of her life, (along with a very disjointed relationship with her own mother) Peeta has his own host of things to work through before I think he’d be ready enough to admit he wants to start a family.

Once he does tho I think he’d only bring it up the once, see she wasn’t on the same page, and then he’d leave it because hey!! he never even dreamed they’d get to where they are now!! Safe!! And in love!! He doesn’t need kids to be happy he just needs her!!

So in my head it’s Katniss who starts the first real conversation about having kids once she sees just how sweet and kind he is to the little ones coming into the bakery with their parents and even then I think he’d probably drive her insane just double and triple checking that she actually wants this?? And it’s real?? They can try for a baby??

This whole idea that he would pressure her is just Peeta slander!! plain and simple!! lmaoo