#but you don't get to use that as an excuse for FIVE years

[poguehearted77]

Just Another Cliché

Summary: Rafe has been asking to take you out for years and you always shoot him down, after a particularly bad day, you decide things can't get much worse.

<<Here's some fluffy angst for those who need it>>

Shitty was an understatement for the day you had. This day will go down in history as the worst day any soul has ever lived through.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." The murmur is bitter on your tongue as you stuff your hands deeper into your warm pockets. The breath of your words were visible in the crisp winter air as you were about to pass by Rafe Cameron who waited patiently outside of your apartment building with a single rose just like he always did.

Since your senior year of high school, every year on the fourteenth of February, he would wait outside your complex, asking you out, then you say no, then he goes home. That's the tradition.

Well, technically you never said no. You'd always make up some excuse. 'I don't have time for a relationship right now' or 'Now's a bad time' are just a few of the examples you've used over the last five years.

It's not that there was anything wrong with him. You actually did find him attractive. Aside from the sketchy reputation he had going for him back in high school, he was still a relatively nice guy.

You just didn't have the time for a relationship, or at least you didn't before.

A small smile forms on his face as he sees you, already knowing what to expect. Another excuse like "Fine," yup, just as he thought- Wait.

"Say that again?" His head shakes in disbelief, blue eyes bulging slightly. Your shoulders shrug under your heavy-duty winter jacket. "My car was towed, then I lost my job, so why not lose my dignity too? Let's go out." You say and his heart begins to bounce off the confines of his ribs.

Not sure if it was the frosty air nipping at his cheeks or his lifetime wish finally unwrapping before his eyes, his cheeks flushed and he blinked a few times. "You won't regret this, I promise." he holds out the rose for you to take, and you finally do. For the first time in five years. You bite back a scoff, not in the mood for empty promises.

"Why haven't you given up yet?" You ask and now he places his hands in his pockets as a chilling breeze sweeps past you. He's rocking back on his heels slightly, "Life's too short to give up." The tiny smile on his face does make you scoff this time but he moves past it, "I'll text you later," is the last thing he says before he walks off.

You look down at the rose, then at his shrinking figure as he heads for the distance. A little pep in his step and you shook your head, immediately regretting your decision.

Great, this is exactly what you needed, another cliché.

-

Just another cliché is exactly what it was. On the lowest day of your life, you finally gave Rafe a chance. Of course, he changes your life in ways you couldn't imagine and leaves you with a dead weight of regret for not giving in sooner.

Your first date wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but it was fun. The two of you were inexperienced skaters failing to skate in the middle of the town square during the heart of winter. With festive lights outlining the rink where you laughed every time one of you fell.

There was even a point in time when you'd both embraced the cold connection with the ice floor and had a deep conversation on the sidelines, watching the other skaters circle the rink.

"Why me?" The question slips out before you can catch it and he licks his lips. He anticipated the query would arise eventually. "You remember that party Hailey Vanderbilt threw back in senior year?"

You hum with a nod, that was a party you'll never forget. Pool toys ended up in the trees, broken windows, jello in the hot tub, fights in the front yard and gambling in the back. "You and a few of the girls were playing truth or dare and they had dared you to start a rumour that I'd shaved my head because my family had joined some cult or some shit."

It took you a second, but the memory came back to you. "You don't know this, but I was fucking wasted behind the couch, but I'll never forget the way you stood up for me to them and refused to do it, and I dunno, I jus' think that was really cool of you." His head turns to you, his gaze softening when he looks at you.

At that moment, you felt the butterflies flap around in your stomach for the first time. He clears his throat, expression becoming more sombre as he continues. "My mom," He starts, taking a difficult swallow to get the words out.

"She was really sick. I got caught up with the wrong crowd to deal with it. Doing anything people said would get me distracted, even for a little, but she got worse and me being high every day didn't help so I quit. Her chemo was taking everything from her and eventually, she just shaved it off, she hated looking in the mirror and it killed me."

Your chest tightened at the story, having a sneaking suspicion of where this was going, "So when you shaved your head..." You trail off and Rafe nods along, turning away from you as a stray tear falls. "It was for her. You sticking up for me meant so much more than you know."

So there you both sat, on the ice with your backs against the wall in silence while the faint Christmas music chimed in the background. The date had taken a sad turn but you're glad it did, it sparked the beginning of your forever-evolving bond.

That was only the first date of many. Dozens and dozens of dates had flown past you and with each one you hated yourself a little more for letting him stand outside of your complex for five years rather than invite him inside.

"This is a nice place." He compliments as he takes a look around before settling himself on the couch with you beside him. "Thanks, it used to be a lot nicer when I could afford it. Had to sell some stuff to keep it after I lost my job."

He chuckles, "That explains why we're facing a blank wall and no television." and you pinch him. "Sacrifices had to be made. Who needs a TV anyways when there's so many other things we could do to keep ourselves busy." Your wandering hand gently runs down his firm thigh and you can feel the muscles in his leg tighten.

This was unchartered territory for you. You'd been dating for almost three months now and have never been intimate in that way, but Rafe knew the kind of person you were. A perfectionist, you need to be sure of everything before you try it.

Based on how fervently you were currently kissing along the length of his neck he could assume he had a pretty good idea of where your head was at. "Baby, baby--" He struggles to keep you at bay so he can lock eyes with you. "Are you sure about this? We don't have-" You silence him with the passionate attack of your lips against his.

Nearly tackling him onto his back, your hips straddling his as you demonstrated your certainty to him.

-

The months went on and sleepovers became more frequent. Even when Rafe had that tired look in his eye which was more often these days, you kept him up with your bright eyes and wide smile as you explained to him the newest conspiracy that intrigued you.

He tried his best to listen to what you were saying but he'd often lose himself in the labyrinth of his own mind. You were just so cute when you were talking about what you were passionate about. Especially when you wore the glasses you cursed so much, opting for contacts during the day.

"Why don't you wear your glasses more often?" He asks and you frown, "Rafee, did you hear anything I just said?" He nods, "Of course I did. I heard every last word.... up until about five minutes ago." You whine and he hugs you tight as an apology, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead.

You couldn't stay mad at him. That was proven time and time again when even your biggest fights would be resolved within 24 hours. Rafe insisted on talking things out, no matter how hurt the both of you may feel. He never wanted to go to sleep without making things right. "Life's too short," He would say.

You both had your shortcomings, but that goes without saying. Rafe was short-tempered and you were stubborn, a bad combination for an opinionated conversation. Things can quickly spiral out of control but when it came to apologies, Rafe outdid you every time. Flowers, or a small gift to show his feelings.

Even now, as Rafe leant against your kitchen island as you transferred the flowers he'd gifted you 'just because'. A weak smile graced his lips as he noted the way you did everything with such intensity, putting your all into everything you did.

Leaning forward onto his crossed forearms he watches you. "You're staring, babe." You say and he can only hum. "Can't help it. I like what I see," His words elicit a soft warmth to radiate in your chest.

"I love you, y'know that?" You're startled as you feel his arms wrapping around your waist from behind. "You tell me only every day, Rafe." He comes down to peck your cheek before you're rotating in his hold to face him. "But I love you too." You're unable to contain your smile as you say it.

It wasn't the first time but every time the words left your mouth, it gave you a little bubbly feeling. Security blossomed within you anytime your eyes grazed over his features.

"Let's go out tonight, yeah? Let's go dancing." Rafe declares without thinking and you laugh, tilting your head to look at the time over the stove. "It's almost midnight, nothing's open at this hour." You reason, but he doesn't back down.

Holding you by the hand, he twirls you. "Not a problem, we'll just do it here." That night your apartment was filled with laughter and soft jazz. Rafe hardly ever had this much energy so late but you loved it.

Two days after that night of dancing, you woke up to an eerie silence that felt too heavy for the morning. You went about your routine, still buoyed by the memory of Rafe's laughter filling your apartment. You checked your phone—just the usual notifications, a missed call from an unknown number, and a message from Sarah that simply said, "Call me."

You barely had time to press dial before she picked up, her voice trembling. She tried to speak, but only the sound of soft, choked sobs came through. Finally, she managed, "I’m so sorry…"

The words hit you, but you didn’t understand them. You wanted her to stop, to say something else—anything else. She kept speaking, her words blurred and distant, as though you were underwater, drowning. Somewhere in her explanation, you heard the words, "peacefully… in his sleep." But it didn’t feel peaceful. Your mind raced, demanding answers. Why hadn’t he told you? How long had he known?

Over the days that followed, Rafe's family gently filled in the pieces: he’d been sick for years, silently enduring, doing everything he could to hide it. Every date, every moment spent laughing with you, was a deliberate choice he made to live his last days fully, in love and joy, with you.

He hadn’t wanted you to know because he couldn't bear to see you suffer for him the same way he was once familiar with in his senior year. Even in the end, he kept the truth locked away, shielding you from the loss he knew was coming.

The weight of his choice tore you apart. You wanted to be angry, to hate him for leaving you out, but in his silence, there was also a strange kind of love. A love that had given you a few precious, unburdened moments together. Still, the pain settled deep within you, refusing to ease.

The anger, hurt, and ache became constant companions in the days that followed. But in his absence, you began to understand just how much he’d given for you.

He'd shared with you how hard it was for him to deal with that eerie state of loss. The stage where the person isn't gone but you know you'll lose them. It alters you in a messed up kind of way and he wanted you as far from that reality as possible. He was protecting you from his own condition till the very end.

Helping his family to clear out his apartment was easily the hardest thing you'd ever done. You couldn't do it without tearing up with every belonging of his you touched.

His favourite hoodie that he never let you wear but loved when you did. The polaroids in his drawer that you took from your first date, taken from the floor of the ice rink.

You noticed he'd scribbled writing on the back of the photo.

She finally said yes.

That was all it took. The last bits of your composure were stolen from you and you wept on his bedroom floor. Everyone always told you it would get easier but it never did. How could things get easier when the other half of your heart was buried six feet below the ground?

You learned to live with the loss, forcing a smile when in the company of others and taking deep breaths every morning when you woke up. Mildly disappointed the realm beyond the living hadn't reaped you during your slumber.

Very slowly, you begin to adjust to this new reality. It’s not the life you imagined, but you learn to live with the loss, carrying him with you in the smallest, most tender ways. His favourite hoodie becomes your comfort on cold nights, wrapping you in his memory and his scent.

Just because he was gone doesn't mean you'd end all of your traditions. Each year on the fourteenth of February, you visit his grave, placing a single red rose on the stone as a quiet tribute.

Though the ache remains, you hold his spirit close, carrying him forward into every milestone and memory yet to come, honouring the love you shared while finding the strength to continue onward.

In some ways, your love story turned out to be just another cliché—until it ripped your heart out from your chest, leaving you with the unbearable ache of everything he left unsaid, every unfulfilled promise, and the haunting silence of a future that will always belong to him.

Somehow, even in the quietest, most heart-wrenching moments, you never gave up on finding the silver lining, because life’s too short.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

There's a viral video circulating from the Fort Worth Zoo, of two keepers who ended up in a habitat at the same time as a silverback gorilla. Spoiler for good news: neither the humans nor the gorilla got hurt. It's a bad situation that ended extremely well, and that's why I want to talk about it.

The audio for this video is mostly someone praying loudly, so if you need to turn the audio off to watch it, you won't miss anything relevant. If you don't want to watch it, here's the summary: it starts with a keeper running around the corner into the main exhibit, pursued by a large male gorilla. She is quickly able to get into a doorway at the back of the exhibit, but does not completely close the door because the gorilla is standing across from her, watching. He eventually moves off to the right hand side of the exhibit, where we can see a keeper is trapped in the corner at the front. She was trying to move towards the exit as he moved to the right, and she stops, standing very still behind a tree, while he stays along the far right wall. They stay like that for a minute, and then the gorilla runs to the front right corner, and the keeper is able to run to the door in the back of the exhibit and get to safety.

Let's start with basic information. Even though it's just going viral now, this video is from October of 2023. It was taken not by a guest, but by the zoo security officer responding to the situation. Hmmm, seems like he maybe should have been doing something else during that situation, instead of than taking a phone video. It's going viral now because the guy (who is no longer employed at the zoo) decided to post it on TikTok for his five minutes of fame. This guy immediately started giving all sorts of media interviews, answering questions like "why no tranquilizers" inappropriately, making memes out of his own video, generally distasteful shit.

Zoo spokesperson Avery Elander gave a public statement that "thankfully, there was no physical contact between keepers and gorilla, and all staff and animals are safe." A comment from the zoo has also indicated that the incident was due to keeper error. (As opposed to, for instance, something in the fencing breaking.) According to the guy who posted the video, a lock was left unsecured and the gorilla was able to open the door to the habitat. I don't know if I buy it, and again, this just... is probably why he doesn't have a job anymore. By sharing that detail - real or not - he places a ton of public scrutiny and blame on that keeper team. (If that's what happened, I can promise you it will have been dealt with internally.) He also was nice enough to say he wouldn't name the women in the video... but verified they're still staffers at the zoo... which means they're eminently identifiable! Excuse me while I ragequit for a second.

So there's two reasons I wanted to talk about this. The first is to make sure it is well known that this guy is purposefully and intentionally exploiting the worst day of someone's life for media attention. Their lives were in danger, and he's using it for fame. His name is in the media articles - I'm not going to share it because he doesn't deserve that attention. The second reason, though, is because this video is a masterclass on how to survive if you end up sharing space with a gorilla. Every zoo person I've spoken to or seen comment on the video is so, so impressed with how the keepers handled themselves.

The gorilla in this video is 34-year-old Elmo. All apes in AZA zoos are managed in protected contact, so keepers are supposed to be separated from them by a barrier at all times. The zookeepers were in the habitat putting out a mid-day meal when he got out. Watching the video, you can see he's not actively being aggressive towards them - he's not making threat displays or trying to approach them. Mostly, Elmo seems like he doesn't know what is going on and he's kinda freaked out about it. (This is confirmed in the zoo's press statement, too). The staff stayed calm, and importantly, watched and waited to see how he'd move and act.

The zoo did say one thing, though, that's a bit misleading. In one article, their press person I quote as saying “In general, gorillas are considered the “gentle giants” of the great ape species.” Just because this may be true in comparison to other great ape species doesn't meant gorilla aren't still incredibly dangerous. This type of messaging always worries me, because I think it leads people to misunderstand the risks of being close to megafauna. Gorilla are extremely strong animals, and their social norms/behaviors are very different from that of humans. That's why it's such a big deal any time people end up in gorilla habitats, and why sometimes in those circumstances lethal measures have to be taken to protect human life.

These keepers are incredibly lucky to be unharmed. These women stayed safe specifically because they're trained professionals who knew how to act around gorilla, they knew this particular animal well, and they'd learned the escapes from the exhibit just in case this ever happened. We should applaud them for their cool heads and quick thinking.

As for the guy who posted the video? As a colleague put it, may he always step on a Lego.

[livvivviss]

lazy people probably won't want to read it 🙄🙄 HAHSHDA

How to shift: EMBODY YOUR DR SELF!!

Fuck the five senses

Most of us always focus on the process of shifting, the symptoms, the 5 senses, overanalyze our process and being very critical of ourselves, we try to analyze why we don't shift, giving ourselves excuses and explanations Saying "I didn't do enough", "I should have tried harder" I wish you guys to STOP THAT.

Actually, none of the above matters. The reason you think the methods, meditation, etc matters it's because of your assumptions and beliefs because you didn't get there and you think "you're doing something wrong" and you ARE NOT, leave that mentality behind and stop seeing shifting as a task or obligation, as something with steps that must be followed to the letter.

Stop and get back to BASICS, When you are trying to get to your DR, stop thinking and focus on "I have to get there" just think that YOU ARE THERE, think ABOUT YOU, about your dr self, who are you in your dr? This is why it is very important that you like your dr's self, and not just an "improved 2.0 me, now with ultra-powered engines" because it just makes you feel uncomfortable, and you need to feel comfortable with being your dr self, You must like being yourself, you must know yourself, dive into your brain and connect with your dr self and with who you're there.

And when you connect with who you are there, forget about everything else, forget how many breaths you have to take, what number you are on, or if you visualize enough, just connect with you, with who you are. By connecting with your 5 senses and with the environment, you are not traveling, I mean this is okay but when you're trying to shift, the shift it's in the mindset, not in the around, it happens in your subconscious, it happens when you become that person, you are becoming your dr self not your environment, WHO ARE YOU? Connect with that person. Start with "Who am I?" "What am I doing here?" "What is my name?" Until it becomes a natural flow, connect with your thoughts until it becomes a natural flow. You did it, you've shifted, when you are fully connected to your dr self and you no longer need to think like your dr self thinks, you are there, and nothing else matters, fuck if "your environment tells you otherwise", It doesn't matter what you see, hear or feel anymore, you are in your dr and you are your dr's person. You know that you're there because of your mindset, enjoy that because that is shifting, that is change, YOU HAVE TO CHANGE, this is manifesting, and manifestation happens instantly when you change your mindset.

The process of shifting doesn't have to take a long time, it doesn't have to take years, the only reason it takes you so long is because you see it as homework. Get out of that mindset, connect with yourself, change your mindset, delate everything else, stop making everything so difficult. "I didn't shift last night because-" STOP, there's no reason you haven't shifted. We shift in every decision we make, when you go to bed YOU HAVE ALREADY SHIFTED, but you are not going to accept it and you MUST accept it.

Why you should embody your dr self (good for lazy shifters):

You should try to connect with your dr self instead of using the five senses or connecting with your dr it's because:

1. It's a bit backwards to try to connect with your surroundings instead of yourself. As I said before, you are not shifting to be your environment, you are shifting to be you, to be your dr self. (Although I'm not saying that using all 5 senses is a bad thing, but you shouldn't focus only on that)

2. Embodying your dr self bypasses all the extra shit about you just lying in your bed trying to shift. The moment you connect with your dr's self, you have already shifted, because if you were not in your dr you would not be able to access the thoughts of your dr self. And when you are focused on this, you are no longer focused on the symptoms and that is the best thing that can happen to you because YOU SHOULDN'T FOCUS ON THE SYMPTOMS because it's not a physical process, physical change comes after the change of mentality. Connecting with your dr self's thoughts is much better than memorizing affirmations and meditating, it's more natural, you enjoy it more and it's less tiring.

3. In the case that your physical environment does not end up changing, you end up connecting with your dr self (THAT IS SO IMPORTANT) you alredy had the mindset shift. And many people when they start doing all this, they start having dreams about themselves being their dr self, and having experiences in their dreams being their dr self, and that is SO GOOD (it's literally happening to me) Taking this post into account, I assure you that YOU WILL SEE CHANGES YES OR YES this is a connecting point.

• Please make this post viral, shifters need to know this 🙏🙏

This was a summary of @shaysplanett's 7 and 10 minute videos. We love her (she was really helpful to me)

[hazelsmirrorball]

Bed Chem | Oscar Piastri x Singer! Reader

summary: when rumors build up calming that the couple had broken up, they decided to break the internet with a new music video

faceclaim: Sabrina Carpenter

pairings: oscar piastri x gf!singer!reader

a/n: Excuse any errors english isn’t my main language

oscxy/n via instagram !

liked by user167, user189 and 1,560 other.

oscxy/n been missing them more than usual!

view all comments

user14 they usually give us nothing but i honestly prefer the “soft” launching then having nothing

-> user189 soft launching?! they’ve been doing that for like five years now. Do they know we know they are dating each other or do we still need to act ?

user17 i know they don’t owe us anything but what if they broke up? Oscar hasn’t been liking y/n’s post since january

user34 i just want what they have!!!

user67 okay but when are we getting popstar x f1 book?

user902 what y/n should do is realease “gross”!!! A instagram post is not enough

user98 let them breathe please!!!!

f1.gossip via instagram !

liked by landonorris, user15 and 12,000 others.

f1.gossip a close source to the australian F1 driver, Oscar Piastri confirms that he and popstar, Y/n L/n are no longer together after five years of dating. Source claims that the “please please please” singer was found getting extra cozy with her music video love interest for the “Feather” music video.

view all comments

user167 this is a lie, they told me personally that they are still together!

user51 can you guys please keep their private life private

user091 gossip pages try not to invade peoples privacy, level 100

user17 why is lando lurking in the likes?

user78 please don’t tell me lando is the “close source”

user51 they have to be together!!! no one is separating my parents

user578 please!!! i know they rarely post each other but let’s make it know that they are still together

user479 guys guys guys!!! this means we are getting a new album

y/n via instagram!

liked by logansargent, lilymhe and 2,478,892 others.

y/n well, i guess it’s time to write new music again

view all comments

user16 omg it is real.

user78 y/n unfollowed oscar!!

user89 guys! guys! guys! i need someone to talk about this!!

user57 i’m sorry but this is insane

logansargent super proud of the new music!

-> user89 now we know who got logan in the divorce

user71 are we finally getting an angsty heartbreak album?!

y/n via instagram stories

oscarandy/n updates via instagram!

liked by user17, user67 and 1,493 others

oscarandy/nupdates Oscar in Y/n's album release party?! OMG

view all comments

user72 guys? are we all seeing the same thing? the is not Oscar in the first pic

user57 don't be dell they are literally in two different places

user28 guys, let stop this. They clearly broke up. There is no point of digging more into this

user32 well, guess it's time to say goodbye to our Lover

user98 pretty sure we are finally getting a sad album

y/nhq via instagram!

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 2,891,298 others

y/nhq the music video for "Bed Chem" is out right now!! feat. Oscar Piastri

view all comments

user18 I thought we were getting a heartbreak album but this is going to be the ovulation album of the century

user71 bed chem is amazing!!!

user910 guys guys guys who can I tell this too

user280 okay but the two of them making out on top of the mclaren was crazyyyy

user18 I didn't know they had it in them

user52 and we thought they broke up, those two were just rehearsing for this damn video

y/n updates via instagram!

liked by y/n, oscarpiastri and 1,567 others.

y/nupdates Y/n got asked how was filming "Bed Chem" with Oscar.

"Honestly, we were so shy about it at first. Like we usually are really shy when it comes to out relationship and being public about it. Now, by doing this everyone was going to see a part we see behind close doors"

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user19 guys this is crazyyyyy

user28 they are so cute I love them!!

user51 shy? Oscar's hand placement was everything but shy

user28 I know they were obsessed with eachother

user539 she was such a blushing mess in this interview

user78 I love seeing this side of our girl

y/n via insta stories! oscarpiatri via insta!

oscarpiastri via instagram!

liked by landonorris, logansargent and 832,902 others.

oscarpiastri so happy to finally be my lovers, love interest. Guess I'll switch professions! (by the way, yes I'm the cute boy with the white jacket and the cute accent!)

view all comments

user17 Oscah, you little slut

user78 omg omg we finally get a post of them together

mclaren please don't

user24 they are so cute

user28 Oscar, can you fight?

y/n I love you so so much! My forever love interest

user27 Oscar, we heard bed chem...didn't imagine you as the kinky type

landonorris honestly need to get that song out of my head because I can't imagine you like that

[rafeandonlyrafe]

daddy

words: 8.8k

warnings: 18+ only!!!, smut, stepdad!rafe, pervy!rafe, rafe meets reader when theyre 17 but nothing happens until 18, lots of use of daddy, taboo sex, age gap (rafe is early 30s reader is newly 18) scammer!rafe??, cheating, unprotected p in v sex, breeding, male and female receiving oral, fingering, virgin!reader, innocent!reader, lots of pet names (little one, little baby, baby girl, etc), reader is described as small chested and feels insecure about it, manipulation, power dynamic holy shit thats a lot of warnings

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450

rafe wasn't sure what to expect when he learned his newest mark had a 17 year old daughter. 

he had long been cast out by his father, ward keeping him far away from the cameron investments, but he still carried the name. 

rafe had found a new way to fortune, one that allowed him to rely on his natural talents, good looks and charm. he flirted with wealthy (usually older) women until they agreed to a date, then had them fall so completely in love that they married rapidly without prenup only for rafe to divorce them later and take a hefty sum away from them.

he already repeated he process three times in a little under five years. he was worried about the reputation he would get, if the rich women of the outer banks and surrounding areas would discover his scheme and he would be out of luck, so when a new divorced mother of one moved in to a sprawling mansion, rafe was quick to greet her and turn he flirt on.

the first time he saw you he was shocked how different you looked from your mother. he pictured her daughter to be a miniature version of herself, bold and chatty, flaunting tacky jewelry and guady animal print.

but you were almost the stark different. sharing the same bouncing head of curly hair was where the similarities seemed to end. it was a ‘family pool party’ where rafe first saw you. it was more of an excuse for your mother to bring her friends around and show off her new younger boy toy who was just head over heels for her.

you greeted rafe with a quiet hello before retreating back into the shade, covered in a pale yellow sundress, but the blue of your bikini straps were peaking out, making rafe hopeful that you would get into the pool, but you spent the entire party under the shade of the balcony while your mother paraded him around.

he found a quiet moment while she was distracted with her margarita to slip away, coming to sit next to you on the soft white jacquard couch, another symbol of your mother's wealth, having such an expensive piece of furniture outside without a care if it dirtied or got ruined my the frequent bad weather.

“hello little one.” rafe says softly, afraid by the look on your face that he would startle you into running and hiding.

“hi rafe.” you whisper, hands twisting in your lap as nerves turn in your stomach. he's the first man your mom has dated since her divorce, and you're glad to see her happy, but rafe is not what you were expecting. your mother told you her new boyfriend was young, but you didn't expect early 30s when your mother is pushing 50. “my mom has told me a lot about you.”

it's not exactly a lie, she has gone on and on when she gets home from dates with rafe, it's just that you've gotten very used to tuning your mother out.

“yeah, she's told me a lot about you too.” rafe leans in closer, “why don't you tell me a bit more?”

“i-i-um.” you stutter over your words, eyes shooting down to your lap after making brief eye contact.

“do i make you nervous, y/n?” rafe asks, practically purring your name out.

you laugh awkwardly, tucking your hair behind your ear as you fein a sudden interest in the partygoers to give you an excuse of something to look at. “everyone makes me nervous.” you whisper. it's not like rafe doesn't already know, you're sure he can tell from your behavior. you have a lot of issues after your dad abandoned you and your mom, and it manifested mostly in anxiety.

“oh, poor baby.” rafe pouts, placing his hand on your chin and turning you to face him, not letting you avoid the eye contact.

“im not a baby.” you say, eyes flickering all over rafes face as you take in the details close up, his powerful cheekbones and shining eyes. “i turn 18 next month.”

“oh yeah?” rafe releases your chin, and you somehow gain the confidence to keep looking at him, drinking in his features. “are you going to invite me to your party?”

“im not going to have a party.” you say, like it's obvious.

rafe goes to push back, starting to argue “but a pretty little thing like yourself-” when your mother cuts him off with a yell of his name, making both of your heads snap to her, where she's waving rafe over to introduce him to a new friend that just entered the backyard.

rafe sighs, slipping his hand onto your lap and giving your thigh a squeeze before standing up. he looks back before he walks away, again maintaining eye contact as he says “it was nice to meet you y/n. ill be seeing you a lot more from now on.”

and rafe keeps true to his word. he continues to swoon your mom, but makes a point to spend time with you as well. your mom sees it as a show of how serious he is about the relationship, she doesn't realize how rafe looks at you.

“your birthday is this weekend?” rafe questions, but it's more of a statement. he takes a strand of your hair and twirls it around your finger, unable to keep his hands away.

“yeah.” you whisper, trying to pay attention to the project you were working on, your sketchbook sat in your lap, angled so rafe couldn't see what you were drawing.

“and you still don't want a party? what do you want to do then little one?” rafe kept using the nickname, even after you pushed back that you are almost a legal adult and not little.

“i don't even have any friends here.” you sigh, almost wishing you were back in high school so you could have a way to meet people your age. “they're all back in california.” 

you send out a silent curse to your father, and your mother. your father for leaving you, and your mother for reacting to it by moving across the country to the opposite coast, escaping the pain and embarrassment in favor of you losing all your friends and everything you knew.

“what are you going to do for your birthday then?” rafe asks as you start to draw again, finding it easier to talk when your charcoal pencil is also moving against the page.

“probably nothing. maybe see a movie.” you shrug. you've gotten used to doing things on your own. despite mostly staying in the house, you did occasionally need breaks from the same scenery, and more aptly, your mother. you always hoped you'd meet someone your age, but even when you were out doing things solo and saw other teens, you couldn't bring yourself to speak to them, your shyness winning the battle over wanting friends.

“i'll come with you, little one.” rafe offers. he was close to getting a ring on your moms finger, in record time. the divorce made her not only vulnerable but also needy to replace the husband figure in her life, not realizing that all of rafes money came from running this same scam. he could use hanging out with you on your birthday to his advantage, showing your mother how serious he is about the relationship.

“okay.” you whisper, hand shaking causing you to mess up the drawing, excited and nervous for the weekend. it's not that you dislike spending time with rafe, he just makes you nervous, like any ridiculously good looking man would.

“i’ll see you saturday then.” rafe says, standing up as your mom enters the room, now dressed and primped, ready to go on the date rafe was whisking her away on.

you keep your eyes trained on your sketchbook as rafe greets your mother with a kiss, and you cringe knowing her tacky red lipstick is going to leave a stain on his mouth, but you don't look up to see.

--

“hi little baby.” rafe greets you after sending your mom out for a spa day, giving you time to go see a movie together. you don't even care that your mom is away on your birthday, you rather spend it this way.

“hi rafe.” you say, not bothering to correct him that you are in fact 18 now and not little or a baby.

rafe surprises you when he wraps his arms around your shoulders, squeezing you into a hug. you freeze up, not used to the intimate contact. your dad never hugged you his way, and your mom was never very affectionate either. 

“happy birthday.” rafe purrs into your ear, burying his head in your hair, nuzzling into the curls.

“thanks.” you mumble, keeping your arms flat against your sides as rafe pulls away. you definitely didn't have the confidence to hug him back.

rafe stays quiet as he leads you out the door with a steady hand on your back, making you shiver as goosebumps rise up your arms despite the warm north carolina air. he even gives you a hand to help you up into his truck.

“do you want to get dinner first, pretty baby?” rafe asks you as he starts up the truck and shifts it into gear. you feel your cheeks flame at the name, wriggling your hands together in your lap in nervousness.

“no.” you whisper, and you're surprised rafe can hear you over the sound of his truck. “i, um-” you pause to clear your throat. “i don't want to get full on food and not want popcorn. maybe we can go after.” 

“sounds good.” rafe says, even though you don't really want to be spending more time with him. it's not that you don't want your mom to be happy, but it's weird to see her with someone other than your dad.

rafes hand slides across the center console, gripping your thigh through your jeans. you tense your leg in surprise at the contact, expecting him to squeeze and then let go, but rafe keeps his hand on your thigh the entire ride there. 

“hold on, i’ll open the door for you, birthday girl.” rafe says after pulling into a parking spot. you wait for rafe to walk around the hood, tugging to door open and giving you a hand out that you graciously accept, willing to put up with the physical contact so you don't risk falling and embarrassing yourself even worse.

rafe leads you into the theatre, and he orders the tickets and popcorn for you, knowing how much you hate talking to others, especially service workers.

“im so excited to see this movie!” you say, taking your seat towards the back of the theatre, rafe setting the popcorn on the armrest in between the two of you. he's surprised to see how genuine your statement is, finally opening up and showing a bit of your emotions.

“if you're excited, then im excited too little one.” rafe says, grabbing a piece of popcorn and sticking it in his mouth.

--

“y/n i want to ask you something.” rafe calls, stopping your quick ascent up the stairs as you tried to flee before he or his mother stopped you. 

“okay.” you mumble, walking back down the couple stairs you had managed to make it up.

“in private.” rafe clarifies, and you glance between him and your mom, but she just nods that it's okay before turning to the kitchen, becoming distracted by finding herself some wine to drink.

“we can talk if your room if it makes you more comfortable.” rafe says, and you blanche at the idea. no one ever goes in your room, not your mom or even the maids.

“how about the study?” you offer instead, your second favorite location in the house, with cherry wood bookshelves covering every one of the walls and two plush couches in the middle providing a comfortable reading area.

rafe places his hand on your back, fingers playing with the material of your sweater as you walk to the study. upon entering, you flick on a lamp and sit down on one of the couches, hoping rafe will take the one across from you, but of course he slides right next to you, pressing your thighs together.

“what is it you want to talk about?” you ask, your heart beat somehow remaining steady. you realize it's because you've become more comfortable around rafe, even if his touches did still send a jolt through your body.

“ive really been enjoying spending time getting to know you, little one.” rafe places a hand on your thigh, just under where your shorts end. he looks down, marveling how soft your skin is and how small your legs are compared to his hand. “your mother as well, of course.” rafe adds, almost like she's an after thought.

“i was hoping that you would want to spend more time with me. i would like to ask your permission to ask your mother to marry me.”

your eyebrows shoot up at the question. rafe has only been dating your mom for around five months now, and marriage this soon after a divorce seems like such a rush decision, but who are you to judge? you've never been married, you've never been in love.

“i-i guess that would be okay.” you see how happy rafe makes your mom, who are you to deny her that happiness?

“thank you.” rafe smiles, hand moving higher until he's tucked in between your thighs, feeling the heat radiating from your core. he strokes over your thigh as you spread your legs ever so slightly, giving him more space to work. your eyes fluttered closed, lost in the pleasure and rafe hasn't even touched over your underwear yet, just focusing on your inner leg.

“gonna be your new daddy.” rafe hums, his voice bringing you out of the trance that his hands put you in.

you stand up suddenly, making rafe frown as you run out of the study and up to your bedroom, slamming the door shut and heading over to your desk, looking at the drawing of rafe that you had just finished. you take the piece of paper and turn it face down, not wanting to think about him at the moment, wondering when he is going to propose to your mother.

--

“i can dress myself.” you say, looking at the sparkly pink dress hanging on the back of the door, decorated in fabric petals to signify your role as flower girl, even though you told your mom that you were okay not being part of the wedding party, she insisted that you had to participate in her special day.

“your mother specifically asked me to help you get dressed. what kind of future husband would i be if i didn't listen to her?” rafe raises his eyebrows, already dressed in his wedding suit.

“can you turn around then?” you question, gesturing for him to turn, face out the window of the venue your mother had rented for the wedding. the grounds are beautiful, filled with flowers and neatly trimmed bushes.

“what if something happens, baby?” rafe shakes his head. “i can't help you if im turned around.”

“you want me to get undressed in front of you?” you squeal.

“come on, im about to be your dad.” rafe says softly. “besides, im just helping you into your dress. unless you want me to help you take those clothes off too?”

“no!” you shake your head, looking one more time to rafe to see if he's going to look away, but he makes no move to as you pull you unbutton your shirt, careful not to have worn a shirt that required pulling off over the head since your hair and makeup is already done. 

you're thankful for the simple bra covering your breasts as you keep your eyes on the floor, tugging your pants off. 

rafe stands up straight from his position leaning over he armoire and grabs your dress, lowering it to the ground so you can step in, having already unzipped it in preparation.

you step in quickly, wanting to get covered again as soon as possible, feeling the burn of rafes stare on your scantily clad body, but for your fast movements, rafe is slow, gliding the dress up your body, hands occasionally brushing against your bare skin until the neckline is finally in its proper place.

rafe rounds your body, tugging the zipper up, again letting his finger drag against your skin all the way up.

“you look so beautiful.” rafe ducks his head, kissing your shoulder. you gasp at his lips on you, leaning back into his body as your mind goes dizzy.

“can't wait to be your daddy.” rafe presses another kiss to the space between your shoulder and neck before standing straight, wrapping his hand around yours. 

“let me walk you outside, little princess.” rafe is glowing, and you know logically it must be because of his wedding day to your mom, but a large part of you hopes that it's also because he's excited for you as well. 

--

“how does a boat day sound, little one?” rafe asks, tugging on your curl that had fallen in front of your face.

“i thought mom had a facial today?” you question, closing your book after slotting the bookmark to save your page.

“she does, i thought the two of us could go. some daddy daughter bonding time.” rafe says, always making a point to have solo time with you since he got married to your mom two months ago.

“okay, that sounds fun.” you nod, wanting an excuse to lay out and tan, and you've found yourself loving spending time with rafe, especially now that he was officially part of the family. he certainly would never replace your dad, but he's made an effort to make you more comfortable around him.

“let me help you pick out a bikini.” rafe says, and you hop up off the couch as he starts to move towards your room.

“no, rafe, that's okay.” you rush after him, taking the stairs as fast as you can.

“come on, let me see. ive never even been in your room!” rafe says, reaching for your doorknob, but you thrust yourself in front of the door, blocking him.

“i… i have my drawings on the wall. i don't want you to see them.” you bite your lip, hoping rafe doesn't push.

“drawings of me?” rafe asks, touching his fingers to your chin and tilting your head up.

“some of them.” you admit, opening the door and trying to close it before rafe can see, but he grabs the wood and forces his body in before you can slam it behind him.

you press your back into the wall as rafe scans the room. you have an entire wall decorated with your drawings taped up. most are black and white with charcoal but you've colored some in as well. there are a lot of rafe, a lot of your mom, of friends you miss that live back in california. the one rafe walks up to is a nature sketch, of the outer banks beaches that you've come to live just as much as the packed los angeles ones.

“you're so talented.” rafe says earnestly. “how come you don't show people your art?” 

“because they're just for me.” you say honestly. you've never had the urge to show your drawings to other people or pursue art further. it just wasn't something that girls in your family did. they were good wives and hostesses. they didn't have time consuming hobbies, especially if they didn't create an instant profit.

“well if you ever decide to sell anything, let me know right away. i’d pay anything to have one of your works hanging in my house.”

you don't mention that his house is now your house, considering he moved in with you right after the wedding. you're too busy blushing over the fact that he likes your art that much, what you deem just quick sketches, he thinks they're good enough to be displayed.

“now where are your bikinis?” rafe questions, moving on from the conversation, knowing you're not bold enough to change the topic yourself.

“um, hold on.” you open up your closet and grab a box out, dumping them all onto your bed. you're not sure why rafe wants to choose your swimsuit, but you don't question it.

rafe hums as he looks through the bikinis, tossing the ones he disapproves of back into the box.

“you dressed pretty slutty back in california, huh?” rafe looks at you, now moved back to your position of being pressed against the wall.

“i-” you begin to explain yourself, but rafe bursts out laughing. “don't look so scared, little one. im not angry. why don't you wear this one?” he tossed your orange bikini at you, probably the skimpiest one you own with the back being just a thong and cups barely big enough to cover your chest.

rafe doesn't say another word, exiting your room and leaving you to take a deep breath. you change into the bikini, looking at yourself in your full length mirror, surprised how much you've filled out the bikini since you last wore it a couple months ago. north carolina has done well for your appetite, filling in your stomach and plumping up your bum. you try to adjust your top to give you the illusion of bigger boobs, but it doesn't work. that's one part of you that didn't fill out at all.

you pull a coverup on over your body before you slip your feet into your sandals. rafe may have seen you in your underwear before but the various employees your mom always has around the house have not.

“ready, pretty baby?” rafe asks when you plop down the stairs, a tote bag in hand that you can see a couple water bottles sticking out of. rafe must be planning on taking the speedboat instead of the yacht, considering your mom insists on keeping it fully stocked despite not really enjoying being on the water, preferring to look at it from afar.

“very ready, d-” you pause when you realize you were about to call rafe daddy. you have just called him by his first name since he got married to your mom, but it almost slipped out anyways, some part of your subconscious associating him with that.

“it's okay, little one, if you want to call me daddy if you want to, or you can just call me rafe.” rafe says, taking your hand as he leads you out towards the dock, looking like your personal marina. you just nod on acknowledgement.

“speedboat today?” you ask as rafe leads you down.

“whatever you want.” he shrugs.

“something with a bed that i can lay and tan on?” you suggest, and rafe steers you towards the smaller of your family yachts.

you take a seat near the front of the ship as rafe goes to the helm to steer you to a secret spot he claims to know of. you pull out your sketchbook and shield it from the wind as you sketch out your view of rafe, a story up behind the dashboard of gears and gages as he drives the boat. you even include the reflection of the sun on the glass.

“here we are.” rafe anchors the boat near a sandbar with clear pale yellow sand, surprisingly devoid of any seaweed or debris.

“it's so pretty.” you say, making a mental note to sketch it before the tide rises. “it must have been so nice to grow up here.”

“mmm.” rafe nods, taking his shirt off. your eyes widen as he reveals his muscles. it's not the first time that you've seen him shirtless, but you've never been this close, and never alone.

“wanna swim before you tan kiddo?” rafe questions.

“um, yeah.” you shrug. you weren't that interested in swimming originally but now that you're at the sandbar you'd definitely like to explore.

“then you'll have to take your cover up off, show me your cute little body.” rafe says, tugging on the strap of your clothing.

“oh, right.” you hum, pulling the dress off over your head. rafe bites his lip, placing a hand on your waist. 

“how do you not have a boyfriend? with a gorgeous body like this.” rafe sighs, slowly moving his hand lower, tangling his fingers in the strings of your bikini bottoms.

“shy, remember?” you giggle, letting yourself step closer to rafe as he looks down at you.

“you're too pretty to not be appreciated properly, little baby.” rafe sighs again, like he's actually upset at the thought of you being lonely.

you suddenly remember that rafe isn't some random older guy interested in you, but your step dad. the man your mom is newly married to. you step away and to avoid speaking any more, jump over the side of the boat into the sparkling water.

--

“so just rafe and i for the next week?” you question your mom, following her around her luxurious master suite as she packs a suitcase.

“it may be two weeks.” your mother says, shoving her clothes in before turning to her wall of heels.

“why isn't rafe going with you?” you question.

“y/n.” your mother sighs, stopping her work to turn to you. “please leave me alone to pack. i have to finish this divorce settlement with your father. as much as i'd like to show rafe off to him, rafe has business he needs to tend to here in the outer banks.”

you go to question what business, considering rafe doesn't seem to do anything other than flaunt after your mother, or sneak away moments with you when she's busy, but your mother gives you a pointed look so you shut your mouth, leaving the room.

--

“itll be nice to have some alone time with my favorite little girl.” rafe says, throwing his arm around you, pulling you into his side. you lean into him, reminding yourself over and over that your dad used to cuddle like this on the couch with you when you were little.

“don't you have business?” you question, letting your finger trace patterns on rafes jeans, swirling over the rough material.

“nothing that's more important then spending time with you.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you're glad he can't see your face as it turns pink.

“could we have ice cream tonight?” you ask. you've been allowing yourself more and more to indulge in sweets.

“that sounds good, honey. do you want to choose the movie?” rafe hands you the remote and you turn something on, keeping yourself resting against his warm body.

you're about halfway through the movie when your tummy rumbles. you honestly got so engrossed in the film you forgot you were even leaning up against your step dad.

“is baby girl hungry?” rafe questions. “we can pause the movie and eat some ice cream now.”

you reach for the remote and pause it, mumbling something about wanting strawberry ice cream as rafe follows you into the kitchen, opening up the freezer and pulling out strawberry for you, and vanilla for himself.

“hey kiddo, get us bowls.” rafe asks you as he gets spoons. you have to get on your tiptoes to reach the shelf the bowls are on, cursing your short mother for giving you these genes. 

you slide yourself up onto the counter as rafe hands you your now filled bowl. you barely have time to say thank you before putting the spoon in your mouth, letting out a moan as the taste hits your tongue. you've been craving ice cream all day and it's completely hitting the spot. you work quickly through the bowl, letting your satisfaction out in the forms of moans.

“stop moaning like that, baby.” rafe says, making you jump from the sudden and unusual roughness in his voice.

“‘m sorry.” you look down at your bowl of ice cream, setting it on the counter.

“it's okay.” rafe sighs, setting his bowl down as well.

“are you upset with me?” you ask, feeling tears well up in your eyes.

“no, little girl, im not.” rafe frowns, moving between your legs, your face for once the same height as his with you sat up on the counter. he takes your face in his big hands, stroking the rough pad of his thumb over your cheek.

“sorry baby girl. will you forgive me?” rafe tilts your face to keep you looking at him.

“yeah.” you nod, just glad that rafe isn't annoyed with you.

“you have ice cream on your mouth.” rafe says, and you reach up to wipe it off when rafe suddenly leans in, his mouth pressing against yours, tongue flickering out and licking over your lip, tasting the strawberry ice cream as well as a taste that is simply you.

you gasp in surprise, allowing rafe to slip his tongue into your mouth. you're not sure what to do, or how to react. you've kissed before, but never one as passionate or with this much tongue involved. 

rafe presses another kiss to your lips before pulling away. your eyes are wide when he doesn't say anything to explain himself, simply looking at you.

“you just kissed me!” you say, as if he's unaware of his actions.

“i did, baby girl. did your dad not give you kisses?” he tilts his head to the side.

“maybe when i was little, and certainly not like that.” you gulp, wondering how your mom would feel if she saw that, but she wasn't home of course.

“well then it sounds like he wasn't a good father. good thing you have daddy rafe in your life now. do you want another kiss?”

“i- i think i do.” you say, licking your lips, not giving your brain any time to become reasonable and back out. 

rafe presses his lips against yours again, and you find yourself kissing back. you fist your hands in his shirt, tugging him closer as you moan into his mouth, repeating the same sinful noises from when you were eating your ice cream.

“god, baby, your moans make me so hard.” rafe says against your lips, giving you only a quick second to take a deep breath before he's back to kissing you.

“do you wanna help out your daddy?” rafe asks, moving his lips to your jaw as he kisses there.

“yes.” you answer honestly. rafe has shown you nothing but affection, something you were so severely lacking that you would do anything for him to make up for it.

“want you to suck my cock.” rafe says, making you pull away from the kiss.

“i can't do that!” you say. not to mention that you have no clue how, but you certainly can't do that with your moms husband.

“but you can, baby. it's alright. you trust me, right?” rafe hums, in which you give a little nod.

“then you can help me out. you're so beautiful, baby girl. i can make you feel good too.”

“you can?” you question, tilting your head to the side.

“i can. we can go upstairs to your bedroom if it makes you feel more comfortable. i told you this beautiful little body needed to be appreciated. remember that, kiddo? so let me appreciate you.”

“what about mom?” you question. there's no way she would be okay with this.

“we don't have to tell her. we can just say we had a lot of daddy daughter time and keep it between us. our little secret.”

you're not sure what to say. as much as you want to see what this appreciation rafe is talking about feels like, you're nervous about hurting your mom or taking things too far, after all, rafe is your step dad.

“let me just give you another kiss while you think about it.” rafe says, placing one hand on your cheek and the other on your waist. “just a nice daddy daughter kiss, nothing naughty about it, little one.”

rafe presses his lips against yours, and all thought you have go out the window as you kiss him back, becoming more confident in your movements the longer you go. rafe tugs you closer to the edge of the counter, and you are quick to wrap your arms around his shoulders, trying to copy whatever you've learned from watching movies as well as doing what feels best.

rafe slips his tongue into your mouth again, and you cry out around it when he presses his hips forward, nestling something hard and rigid against your core.

“upstairs, please.” you whisper. 

rafe nods, wrapping his arms around your hips and lifting you easily. you don't know how he navigates the house so well while you're still kissing, too engrossed in his lips to even let him see properly to walk faster. 

he takes you to your room, your safe space that only he has been in. he sets you down on the bed, and you whine when your lips disconnect.

“shh, baby, im gonna make you feel real good soon. wanna suck daddies cock first?” rafe presses his thumb against your bottom lip, now pink and swollen from the intense make out.

“ive never done it before, i-i don't know how.” you admit, dropping your eyes to rafes crotch, the way his length is straining against his pants.

“ill teach you, baby.” rafe takes his shirt off, and you can't resist reaching out and running your hands over his smooth abs.

“you want to take your shirt off too, honey? let me see your cute little tits.”

you nod, letting rafe help you out of your shirt.

“no bra?” rafe questions, eyes widening when he realized he spent all day with you, not knowing you were bare under your shirt until now.

“its not like i need one.” you blush, going to reach to cover your chest, but rafe stops you.

“don't feel insecure, baby girl. your body is gorgeous. can i touch your chest?” rafe asks. you nod, your nipples jutting out from your skin now that they're exposed to the cold air.

rafe cups your tits, pushing what little is there up. he swipes his thumb over your nipple, making you throw your head back in pleasure. rafe smiles down at you, rubbing over your tits, feeling them with his palms, the way your nipples are hard against them.

“feels so good.” you whine, not even realizing that you had squeezed your eyes hard shut.

“i know, baby.” rafe chuckles, kneeling into the floor between your legs. “let me show you how good my mouth feels too.” rafe pulls you closer to the edge, wrapping his lips around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth.

“oh my god, daddy!” you shout out, tangling your hands in rafes hair and holding him to your chest, never wanting the feeling to stop.

“mhm.” rafe mumbles against your skin, pressing a kiss to your nipple before gliding his tongue across your chest to the other side. “daddys gonna take real good care of you.”

“i wanna take care of you too.” you say as rafe sucks on your nipple, tugging it between his teeth gently. you hadn't forgotten the original reason you came upstairs, and want to see what you felt pressing against you earlier.

rafe straightens up, taking your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze before placing it over his crotch. you experiment with what makes rafe feel good as you feel him over his jeans, keeping your eyes on his face. you stroke the hard length, focusing on where you're guessing the tip is, and judging from the way rafe is groaning, it feels good.

“wanna see it.” you say, tugging on his waistband. “please.” you add in for good manners.

“oh, my baby girl, you never have to beg me.” rafe says, undoing his pants and pulling them down, stepping out and licking them away. your eyes widen when you realize there's a small wet spot on his underwear where you were focusing on earlier.

“are you ready?” rafe asks, his thumbs nudging under the waistband of his underwear.

“yes.” you nod, taking your eyes off his crotch as he drops the last layer of fabric, blinking up at rafe through fluttering eyelashes. rafe smiles at you, a soft grin reassuring you as he leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

you let your eyes close, focusing on the kiss as you reach out, exploring with your hands as you grasp his length, gasping into the kiss as you stroke your hand up and down. you don't know much about what you're doing, but you can tell that his cock is long and thick, you're barely able to wrap your small hand around him.

“feels so good, baby girl. making daddy so happy.” rafe says, groaning as you stroke your fingertip over the tip of his cock, collecting some of that wetness that you saw earlier.

rafe pulls away, standing back up straight as you finally look down, feeling a funny feeling in your stomach as you take in his cock, long and hard jutting away from his body, the tip a beautiful pink color that you want to capture with paint some day.

you take your fingertip into your mouth, licking over the wetness, the salty taste spreading over your tongue. 

“you can just touch for longer if you're not ready to suck me yet.” rafe says, running a hand over your hair.

you don't respond, leaning forward and taking his tip into your mouth, furrowing your brows as you try to work out what to do, flicking your tongue over the head of his cock.

“that's good, baby girl.” rafe moans, resisting the urge to thrust forward, letting you explore on your own as you pull off to lick down his length, tracing over the vein running along the underside until you get to the base and press kisses as you move back up.

you take his cock back into your mouth, trying to take as much as him as you can, only managing a few inches before you gag and pull off a little. you suck the best you can with him taking up so much space, being aware of where your teeth are and not letting them touch the sensitive skin. you'd never want to hurt rafe.

“feels so good, little one.” rafe groans, pressing his hand to the back of your head, pushing you back down onto his cock, further and further until you sputter and have to pull off with a cough.

“are you okay?” rafe questions, but you just give a quick nod before retaking him in your mouth, closing your eyes and focusing on moving up and down, even though you can't take him all the way, you focus on keeping a rhythm, repeating whatever motion makes rafe moan the loudest.

“you can use your hand too.” rafe says, taking your hand in his and wrapping it around the base of his length. you hum in acknowledgement, pulling off to lick at rafes tip to get more of the salty taste as your hand strokes up and down his cock. you kiss his very tip, almost as a thank you for your step daddy for letting you make him feel good.

“im so proud of you, my little baby.” rafe says, and you glow under his praise, sucking his cock back between your lips as you bob your head, running your tongue over him as well.

“fuck!” rafe suddenly pulls away, making you pout. 

“come back daddy.” you try to reach out for them, but rafe reaches down and squeezes his cock tightly by the base, chest heaving.

“you almost made daddy feel too good.” he says, giving his cock a quick stroke like he's unable to resist it.

“were you… going to cum?” you question, quirking your head to the side.

“and what would you know about cumming?” rafe questions, making you blush.

“ive watched movies!” you argue.

“want me to help you learn more? i can make you cum.”

“h-how?” you question. sure, you've seen movies but you haven't exactly studied the details.

“i can use my mouth and fingers to make you feel good, just like you did for me, baby girl.” rafe explains, and you don't hesitate to nod.

“gonna have to take your pants off then, baby.” rafe explains, helping you stand up on slightly shaky legs as you pull your pants down, taking your underwear with it, not wanting to waste time before rafe helps you feel good.

“why don't you lay down?” he asks, running a finger over your cheek. you nod, laying down on your bed, head against your pillows, keeping your legs pressed firmly together, worried about how wet you are in your private area.

rafe climbs onto the bed, hovering his body over yours, admiring his tiny and innocent you look beneath him, despite being completely nude. he presses down, his cock rubbing against your stomach as he captures your mouth, tongue flicking into yours. you relax into the bed, feeling safe again getting kisses from your daddy.

“spread those legs for me.” he emplores you. “let me see your pretty little pussy.”

you part your thighs, rafe moving down your body, pressing kisses to your chest and stomach as he gets closer and closer to where you are craving.

he finally settles in between your legs, hands gripping your thighs. he stares at your glistening pussy, shiny with your wetness.

rafe slowly rubs his finger over your slit before parting your lips, his breath catching when he sees all of you. he leans in tongue falling out as he licks a wide stripe over your cunt.

“oh my god, rafe!” you cry out, back arching, having never experienced such a feeling before.

“you taste delicious, kiddo.” rafe says, burying his face in your cunt as he continues lapping over your cunt, overwhelming you with pleasure.

you whine as he switches to kissing, also giving your inner thighs some attention. he places his hand at the top of your cunt, pulling up to stretch out your skin as he leans in and gives your skin a kiss in a new spot, one that makes you scream, body shaking as you attempt to move away, the pleasure too much for you to take.

“shh, it's okay.” rafe says, moving back to kissing your thighs.

“what was that?” you question, breathing heavily, causing your chest to heave.

“that was your clit, baby. kissing that is like how i felt when you were kissing the tip.” he explains, not judging you for your inexperience. “can i keep going?”

“yes, daddy, please.” 

rafe listens, but makes sure to move slowly, getting you used to his mouth in the area as he licks around your clit without directly touching it. you moan out a mix of his name and daddy, blabbing about how good it is when his tongue flicks over your clit, sending another flood of wetness over your cunt.

“good girl.” rafe says quickly, hoping that's all the praise you need to be comfortable, not wanting to take his mouth off of your pussy as he concentrates on your clit, going from holding his tongue flat against it to flicking quickly, showing you all the different types of things he can do to pleasure you.

“st-stop.” you say, trying to shove rafes head away when you feel something building in you, not wanting to topple over the edge. “it's too much!” you shout, but rafe does something new, taking your clit between his lips and sucking it in his mouth.

“im gonna- im gonna-” you sob out some sort of warning, unsure of what is actually going to happen as your sobs shift into a scream, your hips picking up off the bed as you try to squeeze them shut, but rafes hand pushes your thighs to keep them open.

you fall over whatever edge you were on, vision going black as shaking overtakes your body, and controversially to what your were trying to do earlier, you now press your cunt into rafes face as he keeps sucking, working you through your high as he pets your thighs, hoping the bit of soft loving attention helps you through it.

“oh my god, daddy.” you whine, tears streaming down your face as he pulls off, pressing a kiss to your cunt before moving up your body, pulling you against him as he flips, allowing you to rest against his chest.

“it's okay, baby, breathe.” he soothes you, his hand rubbing over your back.

“that was really good.” you tell rafe after a minute of struggling to get your breath back. “thank you daddy.” you lean in and give him a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

“want to keep going? or we can be done for tonight if that's what you need, little baby.” rafe says, wanting to take things at your pace, especially after seeing how explosive your orgasm was.

“more.” you say, slotting your leg over rafes body, pressing your chest into his, rubbing your nipples against his skin as you connect your lips, this time taking control of the kiss.

you rub your cunt against rafes abs, soaking them in your slick.

“baby-” rafe warns as you move down, rubbing your cunt over his cock.

“fuck me, daddy.” you say, wanting to feel good together.

“let me-” rafe tries to get out, but you push his cock against your hole, trying to slide down when your get a flare of pain, shouting and pulling off.

“baby girl, you have to let me finger you first. as much as i want you right now, ive got to open you up since it's your first time.” rafe explains, and you whimper out, nodding.

“come sit on my tummy, come on.” rafe tugs your hips, and you move so you're sat on his abs, leaning back slightly so your cunt is on show.

“let me know if it hurts, okay?” rafe says, his hands rubbing over your inner thighs, admiring how tiny you are even when sat on top of him.

“i will daddy.” you hum as he strokes his pointer finger over your cunt, making sure to get it thoroughly wet. he moves down to your entrance, circling it before pressing the tip of his finger against it, breaking through the tight ring of muscle. 

“oh, fuck.” you cry out, reaching behind you to grip rafes hips for stability.

rafe can move easily with one finger because of how wet you are, pushing all the way in with relative ease, but he can feel how you're still squeezing around him.

“gonna add a second, okay.” rafe gives you a warning, not wanting to take too long before he can get inside of you, needing to be buried in your cunt.

rafe pushes a second finger in, making you whine at the sudden stretch. he moves in and out with pace, not letting you focus on the pain as pleasure quickly overtakes you.

“there you go, stay nice and relaxed for me little one.” rafe says, and you make an effort to breathe and keep your legs from going taut as he scissors his fingers, thumb coming to rub over your clit when he sees your face twist in pain.

“i know it hurts, baby, but trust your daddy. gonna make it feel all better.” he says softly, wanting to pull you down into another kiss but knowing you need to focus on staying calm at the moment.

“it's okay, i do trust you daddy.” you say, voice breathy.

“love you so much.” rafe says, flicking over your clit as you cry out, never having heard rafe say the words to you before, but of course he does, he's your step dad after all. 

“please, inside me, p-please.” you moan out.

“okay, fuck-” rafe curses out. “okay.” he takes his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth to clean off before flipping so you're on your back on the bed, his body hovering over yours, hips slotted between yours like he was meant to be there. 

“im gonna try and go slow.” rafe says, the key word there being try. he knows how hard it's been to resist you this long, it's going to be even harder to control himself once he's inside you.

rafe grabs his cock, rubbing the tip over your messy cunt before lining up with your entrance, sinking forward as he pushes inside of your heat. you cry out, wrapping your arms around rafes shoulders, needing the connection to get through this as his hips press all the way in, his cock lodged deep inside of you.

“breathe through it, baby girl.” rafe says, stroking your hips with his large hands as you take a stuttering breath, adjusting to his length inside you.

you circle your hips, brows furrowed as you get used to the sensation. you press up, then down, moving yourself while he stays still, allowing you to explore.

“i-i gotta move baby.” rafe finally says, and you nod, still keeping him squeezed close to you as his hips move back, his cock sliding almost completely out of you before pushing back in, keeping his self control by moving slowly.

“this is what a good step daddy does?” you ask, rubbing your hand over the back of his head.

“yes, i take care of you, baby.” rafe says, burying his head in your neck, kissing the sensitive skin there.

“i love you daddy.” you tell rafe, clenching your cunt around him when he starts to move faster, rafe letting a grunt out against your skin.

“so good for me, little one. our little secret.” rafe picks up speed, his cock stretching you open, making space for himself.

“can we-” you gasp out when he pushes all the way in, his hips rubbing against your clit. “can we keep doing this? even when mom gets back?” now that you've felt this level of pleasure, you don't want to go back to going without it.

“of course, baby. we just have to be careful.” he says, sucking a light hickey into your neck, one that should heal before your mom gets back.

“is it bad?” you ask, even as you spread your thighs apart more, “is it bad that we are doing this? won't mom be mad if she finds out?”

“baby, don't worry about that.” he sighs, picking his head up to look you in the eye. “just focus on how good you feel. i love you, i don't love your mom like this.”

“you don't?” you question, eyebrows raising up.

“the love a daddy feels for his little girl is different.” rafe says, pressing his cock as deep as he can inside of you, and you swear he's all the way into your stomach.

“you don't fuck her like this?” 

“no, only you. my little girl.” rafe kisses you, and you moan into the kiss, moving your legs to wrap around his hips, raising and lowering yourself to meet his thrusts.

“my little baby. my sweet girl.” rafe moans, his cock swelling inside of you. “gonna cum inside you, baby. we are gonna feel so good together.”

he moves one of the hands that's gripping your hip to your cunt, rubbing his fingers right over your clit harshly, needing you to cum at the same time as him.

“daddy-” you gasp, throwing your head back, “daddy, you can't, i'll get pregnant.”

“it's okay, little one.” rafe pants, struggling to hold himself back any longer. “cum for me. don't think about getting pregnant. you'd look so cute for me with your tummy all swelled up. gonna fill you with my cum, put a baby in you.”

“yes, yes!” you cry out, rafes fingers pushing you to the edge as his orgasm finally hits, cumming with a shake as he pumps you full, filling your cunt with all of the cum he has to offer. he keeps pumping despite feeling oversensitive, wanting to make sure he stuffs you.

“fuck, daddy!” you whine, pushing his hand away from your clit when it becomes too much.

“my good girl, shh.” rafe presses your lips together, carefully pulling his cock out of you, looking down as his cum slides out of your hole. he reaches down with one hand, ignoring your whine as he pushes his fingers, and the cum, back into your pussy. rafe smirks to himself as you moan, grasping at him with your little hands, thinking to himself that getting her innocent young daughter pregnant is the perfect way for your mom to ask for a divorce.

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ i ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: not beta-read. not edited. enjoy reading.

masterlist.

You are not surprised when Max Verstappen won the 2023 Formula One season. Given how he dominated each Grand Prix in the season, except Singapore but we don't talk about Singapore, you kind of expected the results already. This is Max's third time winning the WDC title and that makes you the manager of a three-time WDC title holder now. As someone who worked with the guy the last five years, you are immensely proud of Max. You’ve been working as his manager ever since 2019—you, twenty-three, a fresh graduate of Mechanical Engineering and he, twenty-one, an aspiring world champion but you've known each other since 2018—so you knew better than anyone else, better than Christian Horner even, just how much it took from Max just to reach the place where he is standing right now. Furthermore, Red Bull Racing also won the Constructor’s Championship so everyone in the team cannot be any happier. Celebrations are in order, of course, but you have excused yourself to retire early in the evening instead. Max has asked you why. You replied that you're tired and that's the only truth you can offer him.

You draft your resignation letter whilst everyone at Red Bull is partying in some place else in Abu Dhabi. Good for them honestly. What better way is there to celebrate a victory than with alcohol? Fortunately, there's canned beer on the mini fridge so that's your share of the victory alcohol tonight while you're hunched over your laptop on the couch. Rihanna is playing from your laptop speakers in a Youtube playlist in another Google tab while you work on the letter on a separate Google Docs tab.

Dear ________,

Please accept this letter as my formal resignation from my position as the manager of Red Bull Racing first driver, Max Verstappen, effective seven days from today’s date, November 26, 2023.

I appreciate the opportunities for growth and development you have provided me during the five years I worked for this amazing team. Leaving is not an easy decision for me but in order to further my career, I have to spread my wings and explore. Please let me know if I can help with anything to make my resignation easier for the company staff.

Thank you, Red Bull, for giving me wings and the courage to fly. Now, I believe it is time for me to soar new skies. I will cherish the time I have spent here in Red Bull Racing.

Sincerely,

[First Name] [Last Name].

You read it over and over again, checking for errors in the spelling or the grammatical structure.

“Thank you Red Bull for giving me wings and the courage to fly….” you mutter. What Red Bull gave you was five decades worth of stress. One decade's worth of stress for each year since you were accepted in the team. “Cringy as fuck.”

Your phone abruptly rings and you jump in surprise, dropping your phone and your beer and oh shoot, you almost dropped your laptop, too. You scramble to pick up the canned beer, hissing slightly when you see the liquid form a pool on the tiled floor. Your initial response is to avoid it so you sidestepped and kicked your YSL heels away from the puddle. The heels are previously placed next to your feet neatly but now they're thrown haphazardly on the floor a few meters away. Your eyes quickly search for a towel, or anything you can use to wipe that shit off before it reaches the expensive hotel carpet, but there is no towel in your vicinity and the liquid is moving fast so you take off your Red Bull shirt—haha, you’re resigning anyways—leaving you in only your sleeveless undershirt. You throw it on the floor. Then, you crouch down and hurriedly wipe the beer.

Crisis averted! Beer - 0. You - 1. You pick up the call after, already knowing it's from Max even without reading the caller ID because you have set a separate ringtone for him, using that catchy Super Max sound, “Hello, [Name] here. Anythin’ I could help?”

Daniel’s voice is not something you have expected to hear, not from Max’s phone anyway, but then again, they should be together right now at the afterparty, “Hi [Name], we kind of got ourselves stuck in a situation here.”

Your brows furrow, forehead creasing, “Danny? Somethin’ wrong?”

“It's Max.”

You stiffen before slowly rising to a stand. Your head begins running at a speed of 300 kilometers per hour, the pace of a Formula One car, coming up with different scenarios where Max is in danger and a list of things you can do to get him out of those situations, “What's wrong with Max?”

That's how you found yourself in the middle of the Red Bull afterparty, navigating through the sweaty and drunk Red Bull employees with your eyes actively searching for a tall, broad-shouldered, blond-brown-haired, blue-eyed Dutchman. You find him nearly ten minutes after entering the party, in a corner, on the floor, next to a yellow puddle of disgusting liquid with his head hanging low and the two Alpha Tauri drivers, Daniel and Yuki, standing right beside him. Thank God they did not leave Max.

The fact that they are in a party full of Red Bull employees and none even tried to help Max bothers you greatly. Jesus, what is wrong with these people? You lower yourself in front of him, hand coming up to his nape while the other is on his forearm before gently guiding him away from the vomit pool just in case he accidentally touches on it. If he did, you know you're the one who’s going to clean him up and frankly, you aren't in the mood for dealing with that. Max follow your hands like it's second nature for him to follow your guidance, leaning into the warmth of your palm.

“What happened?” you finally voice the question you've been dying to ask once Max is a good distance away from the pool of vomit. Daniel is the one who answers you, “He asked for you.”

That doesn't answer your question. Thankfully, Yuki decides to be more helpful, “He broke up with Kelly this morning.”

Oh.

He raced while shouldering a broken heart and still won? Poor Max. But also, you are not surprised. Not even a bit. It's very much like him to prioritize the race over his feelings because Max Verstappen only wants one thing in the world and that is to emerge victorious at the sport he loved. To prove to the world that he is top one, to prove to Jos Verstappen that he is top one and that he will go down in history as top one and the world shall remember it even after he leaves the F1 racing scene for the young ones.

“Thanks, Yuki,” you turn to Daniel and nod. “Danny, I’ll take it from here.”

“Are you sure you don't need help?”

You shake your head and offer a tight-lipped smile. Dealing with a drunk Max is no biggie. You have worked with the guy for five years already, four as his manager. That's over a hundred podiums and defeats and in each defeat and each podium, alcohol and Max become the best of friends. You’re used to this; cleaning him up, picking him up, tucking him into bed, calling his girlfriend to deal with his drunk ass, and helping him nurse the hangover in the morning with an Advil and a good breakfast.

You roll the sleeves of your champagne-colored button-up to your elbows and in one swift motion, you lift Max in a fireman’s carry. That volunteer work you did at LAFD back when you're still in university paid off in these moments.

It was a comedic sight. A 5’5” woman in heels carrying an almost six foot drunk racer who is at least two times broader than her on her shoulders. The media has already caught a picture of a similar-looking moment one time in 2019 and another in 2021—such times are the beginning of those annoying dating rumors that involves you and Max—and you can say that Twitter is mostly impressed that the Red Bull manager was strong enough to lift a high-performance athlete. Some made memes of it. You'll never admit that you saved some of them, especially the ones that made fun of Max so you could put it above his head. Some even claimed that your YSL heels must be some sort of superhero power up because you do a lot of athletic things in those heels like running through the paddock as if you were just wearing a pair of Nikes, kicking a door down, driving a motorcycle around in Monza to buy Max's morning coffee, and getting in a physical fight with Max’s anti-fan back in 2022. In theory, you can and will absolutely kill a god in those heels and honestly, it's about time YSL sponsors you because you're giving their Opyum heels so much promotion.

What the public doesn't know is that Max is lighter than he looks and paired with your capability of lifting heavy equipment and people due to your history as a volunteer firefighter, it is incredibly easy to lift him without breaking a sweat and yes, even while wearing heels. People are too easily impressed nowadays.

You ignore the confused stares that are sent your way as you hurriedly walk to the comfort rooms. In a matter of seconds, you are power-walking yourself inside the male comfort room, sending an unimpressed look at the two Red Bull rookie employees making out inside. They are horrified when they see you. You can tell with the way their eyes widened and how they scrambled away from each other and hurriedly fixed themselves while muttering a thousand apologies. You don't even need to say anything. They are out before you could even tell them to.

You lock the door behind you before heading towards the bathroom sink and placing Max there. You put your hands on the back of his head and shoulders to support him until he's leaning against the mirror and sitting fully upright. You wish he won't topple over and accidentally hit his head on the tiles.

“Hey, hey,” you tap his cheek. “You good, Max?”

You sincerely hope he won't pass out. Unconscious people are heavier than conscious people when you lift them.

Procuring a water bottle inside your tote bag, you hand it to him. He accepts it wordlessly and down it in one go. You pull out an extra shirt from your bag, “Off with the shirt, big boy.”

Obediently, Max does what he is told and he peeled his shirt off him. You have to help him midway because he got it stuck around his neck. You toss the stinky shirt somewhere on the sink and hand him the shirt you brought. Again, you help him put it on because drunk Max has seemingly forgotten where the holes of the t-shirt are and which limb should enter a specific hole. Oh wait, that sounds wrong.

“You're taking good care of me.”

His voice sounds so small when he utters those words that it almost got swallowed up by the silence of the room and the muffled sound of the party outside.

“Aren't I always?”

You are paid to take good care of him after all.

“Always.”

You wet a towel in the sink and squeeze out the excess water in the wool. Your fingers gently cradle Max’s jaw as you wipe his face. He has a little vomit on his cheek.

You're used to looking at Max’s face up close but you still cannot help but be amazed by the beauty of it, you know? Some people will not consider Max as a conventionally beautiful man. Different people have different preferences. Honestly, you used to be one of those people. You met Max when he was twenty-one and that time, he looked like a fetus and greatly resembled Sid the sloth from the Ice Age movies. You used to tease him all the time about it, calling him a kid and pulling the age card when he needed to be reigned in or to annoy him until he submits into obedience, when you are only a year older than him. The stress of racing caused Max to age quickly but thankfully, he does not age badly. No, instead Max transitioned into an absolute daddy. Thank God he is more like his mother than his father, too. His mother’s genes saved him. Thank you Sophie!

You would have fallen for him, too, like the gazillion women all around the world who'll fall at his feet, but it’s hard to do so when you know he doesn't even know how to peel his own oranges. Drives a car going 300 kilometers per hour and can’t even peel a damn orange.

Twitter is always having a field day when they manage to snap a picture of you peeling oranges for him. Orange Peel Theory or whatever that is. Ludicrous bullshit, to be honest. The only theories you know are the ones taught in Physics class.

“I wonder if you know how much I need you,” he mutter. “I wonder if you can tell.”

“Very poetic,” you say flatly because Max has the tendency to say the most out of pocket yet soul breaking things when he's drunk and you are too tired to rationalize all his musings right now. We love a trauma-dumping king.

“You talkin’ ‘bout Kelly?” you ask, brow raising slightly. You continue to clean his face before proceeding to wipe his arms and his hands.

“I don't know.”

“Okay.”

He probably is talking about Kelly anyway.

Now that Kelly is gone, you’re beginning to get worried for Max. Earlier, as you wrote that resignation letter in your hotel room, the worry of leaving Max was not present. He has Kelly after all. Kelly can easily do the things you did for Max, not that she should do the work of a Red Bull manager because honestly, if she plans on taking up your job now, you’ll tell her to run and save herself. You mean the support you gave Max. You mean going all-out in protecting Max whether from haters or even his own father and especially his own darkness. You mean standing with him, inside that open cage that he can walk out of anytime but chose not to because Jos Verstappen still had his claws on him. You mean not leaving Max, no matter where he stood, may it be at the top of that glorious podium or at the end of the line. You mean taking care of Max the same way you did, even if he insists that helping him is nothing but rotten work.

But then, she left. Now what?

“I want to tell you something.”

You lift your eyes and met Max’s glazed blue ones.

“It is in my will that if I die—”

“You're not dyin’," you cut him off, not even the least bit amused about the idea of Max dying.

“Shush,” he playfully glares at you and you roll your eyes, itching to pull that I’m older than you so don't shush me card just to annoy him. “Let me finish. It is in my will that if I die, my cats will be taken care of by you. Oh come on, stop making that face. You look like you're having an aneurysm.”

“Shut up,” you swat his forearm with the damp towel, causing him to laugh at you. “Why’d you even do that? Give them to your Mom or somethin’.”

“But nobody is better at taking care of someone than you,” he says and his voice bled with rawness and honesty and so much sincerity that you're taken aback. “I want someone to take care of them like how you take care of me.”

You blink, mouth slightly agape. What can you even say to that? Thank you? I’m honored? Dude, what the fuck? Are you confessin’ to me or somethin’? You doin’ big shit over there by putting me in your will.

Now, you’re even more worried. Who will take care of Max after you're gone? The same way you took care of him?

Nonetheless, on December 13, you submit the resignation letter to Christian Horner. He reads the letter with a deep frown marring his face. It's funny how he had the same expression on his face, too, on the first day you met him when you were applying from Red Bull.

“Have you told Max?”

The guy is sleeping in his hotel bed as you speak and will probably be awake in a few hours with the world’s shittiest hangover. So no, you have not told him. Not yet, at least.

“No.”

“He wouldn't be happy with this.”

You know Max does not bode well with goodbyes, especially from the people he closely worked with leaving Red Bull. Look at what happened with Danny in 2018. Now, it is your turn. Two of his biggest friends in the Red Bull team, leaving in search of careers outside his shadow. Being in Max's shadow..... They are right after all. It is a curse.

While you love Max, platonically of course, being his manager is not what you wanted. You did not suffer through four years in engineering school just to become an errand girl for a racer. This is not what you applied for when you sent that application letter in Red Bull and Renault back when you were twenty-two. Renault didn't have an opening in their engineering team so your future with that team was quickly erased. Red Bull had no opening in their engineering team either but they had an open spot on the team as Daniel Ricciardo's manager for a whole season. You accepted their offer, naturally, hoping that their engineering team will have a place for you soon. When Danny left, you contemplated following him to Renault.

Then, Max told you to not go to Renault because they're a shitty team and perhaps he was right because in that sucky car they had, Daniel barely won podiums, but if Renault would give you the position you wanted and worth your student loans, then you'd take it.

"No, stay."

Demanding little prickly ass, he was, "I will win next year. When I become a world champion, I'll ask Horner to move you to the engineering team."

You did not know why you believed him.

2021—Max became world champion. You hoped he would ask Horner like he told you back in 2018.

2022—Max became world champion again but you're still stuck as his manager. You reminded him of his declaration in 2018. He told you he was already on it. Two rookie engineers entered the team that year, taking the spot that should have been yours years ago and you were stuck wondering if Max was really putting truth on his words.

2023—Max became a third-time world champion and you wouldn't even ask anymore.

“I know," you say, voice barely above a whisper. "I'll deal with it."

"I'll trust that you'll be the one who'll tell him?"

It amuses you how no one wants to deal with Max or drop him the big news. Everyone knew how crazy he could get when Max does not like something. He's a menace. He'll terrorize everyone. You're the only one who could hold the menace down.

"Of course, Sir. Leave it to me."

“Are you transferring teams? Are you still going to stay in Monaco near Max?”

Monaco is not home. Home is desert and heat. Home is Texas.

“Nah, goin’ back to Austin.”

Everybody knows Texas was your home, your accent and your manners spoke of it. Some Europeans look down on it, calling you a country bum and a cowgirl mascarading as a sophisticated sidehoe of a champion. Fuck 'em all.

“Everyone in the team is given two weeks off now that we’ve won so your resignation is immediately effective of today,” Horner says. “If the US GP is held at Austin next year, make sure to come by. Max would appreciate it.”

Christian Horner is an asshole but he is at least good to Max and that's what's important.

You get a text from Max an hour later.

him: i feel like shit

him: thanks for the advil and the soup

him: also im flying back to monaco tonight, fly with me

Tonight, you're flying to Monaco with Max Verstappen. Seven days from now, you're flying home alone.

[narcjsistx]

𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐇𝐂𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 | reo, isagi, kaiser (part one)

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

— reo mikage

✶ don't even remotely expect to lift a finger in his presence. the princess treatment in his relationships is MANDATORY, he simply loves to do the things that the people he loves want. it would be something like "I know you can do it, but I'm your boyfriend, so let me do it for you"

✶ I think one of the things he loves most about his partners is when they are dressed in shades of purple or maaaybe white, in clothes given by him. do you want to bring him to his knees? do as I tell you, trust me!

✶ kind of guy who would post you everywhere, like: his ig profile feed is made up of 80% of posts with you or dedicated to you, the remaining 20% ​​are photos relating to soccer. he loves to show you off, and above all he does all those trends (even the cringe ones) like posting your girlfriend with a certain song on a certain day

what would he post on socials ↓

✶ his concept of family is quite normal, sooner or later he would like to have a family, actually, the idea of ​​getting married has never displeased him. as a child, being the only heir of the Mikage, he had to bear all the expectations alone... therefore, his idea would be to at least have two children, not that he wants to share the expectations between them! simply as a child he suffered a lot from being the only child

✶ jealosy level: 4/10 (he's not the jealous type! he might only be more so in cases where he sees someone trying with you EXTREMELY too hard)

✶ flirtiness level: 6/10

✶ pet names: "babe" / "precious"

—————————————

— isagi yoichi

✶ even though on the field he seems to have bipolar disorder, isagi is literally one of the most possibily boyfriend in the entire verse in my opinion. he's just a chill guy who takes soccer a little too seriously, but hey, you love him for that reason right? yeah, absolutely yes

✶ he's someone who would be embarrassed by a kiss even after years and years of being in a relationship. at the beginning of your story, he had to take a lot of his courage just to ask you if he could hold your hand, but over time he got used to it. with kisses, well... he still gets embarrassed, even though he's often the one who initiates them. he's just a sweet coward in this things

✶ he is someone who, in my mind, cares a lot about gifts related to the phases of the relationship, such as those for the first month together, the six months and so on. not huge gifts, he keeps those more for more important dates, but gifts like letters, stuffed animals or bracelets found at random moments of the day and which immediately reminded him of you for some reason that only he knows

what would he post on socials ↓

✶ his concept of family is actually based a lot on what he had. he doesn't exactly have a preference on the number of children, one or five would be fine, he just knows that he will love them no matter what. getting married has never been a thought he's actually spent 5 minutes thinking about every now and then, but now with you he's pretty sure that asking you to spend your life with him is a great excuse to see you in the white dress

✶ jealosy level: 2/10

✶ flirtiness level: 3/10 (more in private, but absolutely not in public, he just can't do it)

✶ pet names: "cutie" / "y/n chan"

—————————————

— micheal kaiser

✶ your relationship is certainly interesting, maybe not one of the healthiest, but you can't say you don't care for each other. Kaiser definitely has some problems related to trusting or in any case "letting himself be discovered" by other people, but surely you are the closest person to him at the moment, hell, you are literally the emperor's girlfriend!. micheal knows very well that he is not a simple person and just the fact that you continue to not let him go, and he wouldn't blame you, means a lot. will he ever admit it? no, obviously not, because he also has a problem, or perhaps more than one, with expressing himself

✶ Ness, one way or another, will have to worship you too. Ness probably just wants to strangle you because you stole the little attention Kaiser gave him, but if Kaiser says he has to worship you like he would him, Ness will do it without a word. Kaiser doesn't even minimally accept someone saying anything remotely comparable to an insult to you, let's say his love language is to protect your respect. he wouldn't mind throwing a punch at someone who even called you "stupid", it's something he can't stand

✶ even if you are not cheering for him at the stadium when he plays, which is quite strange because you are there all the time, you already know beforehand that if he scores a goal, it will obviously be dedicated to you. it's something he always found beautiful when he was little, when he saw videos on public screens in Berlin: seeing then-famous footballers dedicate goals to their girlfriends seemed so exciting. he's the emperor now, right? he must repay his empress somehow for always being so good to him

what would he post on socials ↓

✶ well, we all know that Micheal didn't grow up with any concept of family, or rather, he never actually had one. having children actually scares him, and the same thing happens even if he just thinks about getting married. he is simply afraid, and indeed he is sure, that sooner or later everything would turn into what he experienced in Germany with his father. it would take a LOT of reassurance, and maybe therapy, to eventually have children and get married. he actually wouldn't be a bad father, because he knows what it's like to live in a toxic house with someone who doesn't really love you, and he doesn't want his heir to go through the same thing he went through when was a kid. Kaiser is not like his father, and never will be, and just the thought of being like this with his kids makes him vomit

✶ jealosy level: 8/10

✶ flirtiness level: 9/10

✶ pet names: "schatz" / "mein liebling" / "doll"

[scoops-aboy86]

Steve as a late night radio DJ, with Robin as his producer (because my partner has made me watch so much Frasier lol). He's got the sexy voice and Eddie, frontman of successful metal band Corroded Coffin, still remembers him from Hawkins and, ugh.

But, well, his manager set up the interview and it would cause more of a stir to no-show than it would to turn up and bicker with some washed up former high school bully. It's a different city, a different decade; maybe King Steve won't even remember him.

So Eddie turns up, and he actually beats Steve there. To the point of the show starting and it's just him in the booth, chatting awkwardly with Robin to fill the air. It gets less awkward the more they talk, idly catching up on old small town bullshit and what it's like to go from isolated baby queers ("I thought I was totally alone!" "Really? You didn't clock the black bandana hanging out of my pocket for five of my six years in high school?" "Sorry old timer, I was still in middle school for part of that." "Oh fuck off, Ms. 'I went to Sarah Lawrence and all I got was this awesome girlfriend.'" "Sorry Eddie, we can't all be super late bloomers like you.") to Actually Successful And Functioning Adults. (She's kind enough not to mention his single but unfortunately well known brush with rehab, other than to congratulate him on his seven year chip.)

And then Steve bursts in, huffing and puffing and diving for the headphones and mic to apologize to both them and the audience for being late. He doesn't even try to offer an excuse until Robin asks, "Uh, Steve? Want to share with us why your arm's in a sling and one of your eyebrows looks like it got flambéd right off your face?"

Which turns into a very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson ("Oh damn, Henderson! I fell outta touch with him ages ago. How is that little shit?" "Married. He didn't end up converting to Mormonism, but they still have enough kids to make up half a basketball team." "Is that... a lot?" "Six, Munson. They have six kids." "Which is funny, because he made soooo much fun of Steve for wanting that many back in the day." "Yeah. Showed him." "Fuck, my condolences to his wife if they all inherited his big head. You gotta give me his number after this. Or—DUSTIN, if you're listening to your babysitter's show, come to my next concert and there'll be two backstage passes with your name on it! Or, well, that embarrassing nickname your radio girlfriend used to call you, since I think I've blurted out your full government name by now." "That girlfriend is actually his wife now." "No shit?! Wow, I can't believe one of my little lost sheepies has managed to keep the same girl for over a decade. Is she really hotter than Phoebe Cates?" "Oh, she is smokin." "Robin, don't make it weird." "Oh it's okay, she already knows. I told her.") ... A very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson coming over to discuss plans for Ma Henderson's birthday, and bringing a cherries jubilee that Suzie had made so he could literally demonstrate the flambé presentation ("Listeners, I swear I did not know, when I asked Steve about his flambéd eyebrow, that it was a literal flambé accident. Eddie, can you confirm?" "I can confirm, Robin. We received no heads-up calls or messages from Steve before or during the show. It was serendipitous irony, 100% pure.") but poured waaaaay too much brandy on, and then Steve tripped in his mad dash for the fire extinguisher ("He was no help at all, just stopped dropped and rolled right there in the middle of the damn kitchen." "How are his eyebrows?" "Ugh, I have more of them than he does right now but at least his match. Don't worry everyone, he's fine. No nerds were injured in the course of this improv slapstick comedy routine that is my life. I swear to god, I need a girlfriend or a boyfriend or someone reasonable to hang out with besides all you weirdos." "Aw, you love us." "Yeah Stevie, what would you do without your loving nerd squad?" "Yeah, yeah... But don't try to leave yourself out of this Munson, as far as I'm concerned you're still the king of all nerds. And if you're reconnecting with Dustin, you're stuck with us too.") and had to stop by urgent care on the way to work.

Throughout all of this, Eddie is not twirling a lock of hair around one finger... but only because it's tied haphazardly back to keep it out of his face for the day. Steve is different from the guy he remembers strutting the halls of Hawkins High. Still all freckles and hair and charismatic grin, but he carries himself differently. More solidly built in his mid-thirties than his late teens, with a layer of softness that suits him. Calmer and settled, with the kind of confidence that comes with growing up. And the girlfriend or boyfriend thing? Holy shit. Holy shit. King Steve? Who knew? But, well, it explains why Steve and Robin are so close, Eddie guesses.

The Steve Harrington that Eddie had known back in the day hadn't exactly been the worst of the bullies, but he'd been friends with them, and they had spouted plenty of homophobic shit. And Steve had been looking right at him as he'd said it, like he's aware that Eddie is terminally single and maybe, just maybe, there was a flicker of a question in his eyes.

Eddie has been publicly out for a while now, and the thing is... Steve is definitely his type. So he leans into it a little, testing the waters. And Steve responds to it like a sunflower greeting the sunrise.

By the end of the show Robin is slapping post-its on the glass partition that read "Get his number dingus" and "Get a room" and Don't make that face at me, yes I do know that he can see these too and I don't care, GET IT or I will recruit Dusty-dun to my cause" and "To clarify, the cause is getting you laid. Eddie, take note, he's allergic to latex."

Permanent tag list (ask to be added, but since I have gotten an influx of new followers lately just know that I write a lot of weight gain kink so like... just be aware): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve

[thevoidstaredback]

Batman pulled up a world map as soon as the alarm started blaring. There was a red dot centered in Illinois, so that's where the map zoomed in.

"That's Amity Park!" Robin exclaimed.

Batman hummed. "Robin, contact Red Huntress and find out what's going on from her end." The boy nodded and left the room. "Constantine, Zatanna, figure out what's going on."

"Already on it, Batsy!" Constantine called in English before going back to his now four alternating conversations in Esperanto and Latin. Zatanna didn't even acknowledge the order.

"Everyone else," he continued as though he hadn't been interrupted, "set up a perimeter a few miles out from the town. Keep it in your line of vision, but don't get too close." He turned to look directly at The Flash. "I want you to run recon. Make sure this is the only place they're coming from. Once we find out their goal, that's what you'll be looking for."

"Aren't they looking for a child?" The Flash asked. He was ignored.

The heroes emptied the room swiftly, quick to ZETA as close as they could to the town before setting up a perimeter ten miles out. Close enough to see the town, but not close enough to cause any panic.

It was nearly twenty-five minutes later before Constantine and Zatanna joined them all. Though, they were both quick to make it known that the town was wholly aware that they were there.

Constantine went to join the hero's block-in, though he didn't stay in one place. He moved from hero to hero, keeping both eyes and one ear on Amity Park. If it was going to move, he would be aware of it only seconds before it did. He needed to be ready.

Zatanna pulled five of the American based heroes away from their posts to explain what she knew. It was barely any better than a recap from the meeting that they had vacated.

"Like we tried to explain earlier, they're looking for a child that the US Government took from them."

"The one from the pictures right?" Aquaman said, "Phantom??"

Zatanna nodded. "Yep. He's the town vigilante; Operating for several months longer than Red Huntress. From what Deadman told me and Constantine, Phantom is a baby ghost; he's only been dead for about a year." She ignored the various reactions. "He's also favored by several Ancient Beings."

"'Ancient Begins'?" Superman asked.

"Think Primordials,"

"Oh, dear," Wonder Woman muttered.

The magician continued, "Don't attack any of the R̶͎͔̿̅ḛ̴̗̦̯̭͇̰̎͑a̸̻̜̤̼͕͔̘̱̫̓ĺ̴͉̘̥͚̪̹́̈́͋̓͜m̶̬͇̅͑͌ṣ̷̨̺̜̣̮͔̤͕̃̍́͂ denizens under any circumstances. They're already going to be hostile towards us, we don't need to give them another reason to be."

"A bit late for that, don't ya think?" A new voice called, startling the heroes into falling into defensive stances.

It took several seconds to find the source. When they did, Batman asked, "Who are you?"

The being, female in appearance, was above and slightly to the left of the group. She looked to be in her late teens with teal-grey skin, a slight teal glow, and flaming teal hair tied in a high pony, bangs framing her face. Her eyes glowed the same radioactive green as Phantom's had in the picture, though less so. She was wearing black pants, a black crop-top, grey knee boots, and a single black elbow glove. There was a guitar strapped to her back that gave off a slight purple glow. Even from where the Justice League heroes were standing, they could feel heat radiating off of her.

"It doesn't matter who I am, does it?" the girl sneered down at them, "What matters is that you dickheads took on of ours, and we intend to get him back." She very obviously assessed the group, not hiding her distaste. "Phantom told me this world had other heroes." She lowered slightly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Where were you."

"Excuse me?" Green Lantern asked.

"Where were you?" she reiterated.

"I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"You're talking about the threats here, right?" Zatanna asked.

The being turned her full attention to the magician. "You knew?"

Zatanna nodded. "My colleagues and I have been keeping an eye on Amity Park since the rifts opened up last year."

The girl's eyes narrowed and she nodded at the five heroes. "These your colleagues?"

"Technically."

"I don't much like technicalities," she hummed. "You must be the one Deadman told us about."

"You know Deadman?" Green Lantern asked. He was ignored.

"Yeah?" Zatanna nodded.

"I'm Ember," she said after a moment, touching down in front of Zatanna. "Deadman convinced the Council to hold in Amity Park until the end of the day. The second the sun goes down, we act on our own."

"I'm Zatanna," she shook her hand, "We're going to find him."

Ember glared, her grip tightening. "You better. He's done more for your world than any of you could ever acknowledge." She turned her glare on the five heroes before flying back up. "And once he's back with us, where he belongs, we'll think about calling a ceasefire." She left before another word could be said.

Zatanna fell into a crouch, her hands covering her face. "This is a nightmare," she whispered before popping back to her full height. "That could've gone better."

"It also could've gone worse." Aquaman tried to console. It didnt work.

"Well, you heard her, we have less than twelve hours to find the kid before the R̶͎͔̿̅ḛ̴̗̦̯̭͇̰̎͑a̸̻̜̤̼͕͔̘̱̫̓ĺ̴͉̘̥͚̪̹́̈́͋̓͜m̶̬͇̅͑͌ṣ̷̨̺̜̣̮͔̤͕̃̍́͂ denizens set themselves loose."

The group shared a loo, quickly moving to pass on the word to everyone else. Off to the side, Superman was relaying to The Flash.

***

Barry had worked on time limits before. Hel, he was usually pretty good at meeting them ever since he got his powers! What he wasn't great at was working under huge amounts of pressure.

He had to cover the entire United States in less than twelve hours. Easy, done. Adding on every out-of-country US Base around the world? Slightly less easy, but still very doable. Looking for a child in what was probably a secret, undocumented, or at least heavily covered, US Base is a bit harder, especially undetected.

Normally, the Justice League would have no problems with making their opinions on matters known, but this was a delicate matter. Even more delicate than the Metahuman Rights Act and Diplomatic Missions to other worlds. This was an issue they'd not been previously aware of, and the dimension that it most affected was now very close to decaring war.

No pressure.

He'd already cleared all of the known Government Bases along the East Coast and was steadily moving inland. Superman, upon Zatanna's and Constantine's advisement, was being productive away from Amity Park. With The Flash covering the US and Superman literally everywhere else, they had hopes of finding the child within the next few hours. The problems were going to start anew after that.

Batman was already working on several extraction plans based off of the blueprints for every US Gov. Base he has access to- don't ask. But, without knowing the actual building's layout, guard posts, shifts, security, whereabouts, etc., no one could make a concrete plan.

There were too many unknowns and it was upsetting everyone.

Robin had managed to get ahold of both his team, readying them for evacuation, and Red Huntress. Apparently, there was nothing she could do. She'd tried to capture the ghosts - as she'd called them - but they'd quickly overwhelmed her. Everyone was locked in their homes until further notice. Luckily, the ghosts seemed content to them the humans alone as long as they stayed out of the way.

There was now five hours until the sun set in Illinois, and Barry had only just cleared the Midwest.

Nothing. Not a single hint as to where they were keeping this child! They had the two fastest heroes out looking for him, the had pictures of what he looked like! By all means, they should have found him already! And yet, they were still empty handed.

The people of Amity Park were getting restless. The ghosts that had taken over Amity Park were getting restless. The Justice League were getting restless.

Constantine and Zatanna had declared that the town would likely not be moving any time soon, not that anyone even knew what the meant. They'd still be keeping an eye and ear on the town, but it no longer had most of their focus. Instead, they were trying to get ahold of Deadman with little success. If they didn't reach them soon, one of them would have to go into the town proper and talk to the ghosts. No one was very excited for that.

Minutes before the sunset in Illinois, Robin received an emergency call from Red Huntress. One that everyone was patched into.

A boy was missing from his house. Daniel Fenton, son of the town's resident Ghost Hunters, hadn't been accounted for.

The sun set over Amity Park Illinois.

Part 3 Part 5

[appleblueberry-pie]

Can you do jealous yandere yuuta or nanami? (Or both)

You watch him, knowing something is wrong, as he cuts your food up with some kind of urgency behind it. Like he accidentally ruined his favorite shirt and didn't want to waste time cleaning it, so he tries to not let it taint his mood or his day. But you two are instead at a nice restaurant with work friends and he's acting like something's bothering him.

Instead of passing your plate back to you, he holds up a piece between his own chopsticks and gives you a....look. He wants to hide something. You give him a knowing look back and take the bite without asking questions. He ignores the look you give him and gives you a piece of vegetable to give to you as well and you shake your head, still chewing your first bite.

He shuffles a better bite between his chopsticks for you to eat and you purse your lips. "...Ken." He hums and holds a different bite for you to take and you put his hand down. "What's wrong?" You speak at a volume the rest can't hear and he declines answering. "Nothing, dear, please eat." You stare at him silently before taking the next bite.

Before he can assemble some more food on the chopsticks, you take your plate back from him. "Thank you, hun. I think I can handle the rest." Then he huffs under his breath. Like a child.

You excuse the both of you from the table, and one of your work friends grabs your hand, asking if everything is alright. You suddenly feel Kento squeeze your hand tighter and you try to ignore it, telling the man that sits next to you that it was alright before leaving to speak around the corner.

You cross your arms and lean against the wall once you're out of site and Kento mimics your position. "Kento, what is wrong with you right now?" He clenches his jaw and shakes his head. "I don't like the people you surround yourself with."

"My coworkers? Kento, I really don't have a choice for who I work around."

"I know there could be better....I particularly don't enjoy the company of the fellow next to you trying to gain your attention all night....in a specifically inappropriate way, even with constant reminders not to do so." You sigh, understanding. You didn't like him either. You've reported him a few times for the things he's said to you. You wouldn't dare tell Kento about the things he's mentioned about you, knowing how he feels about these types of things.

"I know. I don't like him either." "Why don't you report him?" "I....I have. More than once." Kento's eyebrows scrunch together and you shake your head, not wanting to discuss this.

"Tell me." "I don't want to." He scoffs and runs his hands over his hair, beginning to pace. "You need to quit. I told you I could support the both of us-"

"Kento, I don't want to keep repeating that I don't want to be your responsibility. I don't want to be stuck in the house all of the time." He walks up to you and grabs your hands, seemingly more upset about this situation. "Darling, I understand that. But look at what's happening to you. This man is constantly talking you down about who knows what. You won't even tell me. The work force is very disrespectful towards women and your company won't let him go no matter how many times you report him. I just want you home with me."

You scrunch your face at his shitty attempt at getting you to agree with him. "Kento, I know that." You let go of his hands, much to his dismay. "I don't need you explaining sexism to me like I'm a five year old. If you just want me to be your housewife, just say that instead of trying to, what, manipulate me into being one. The hell is wrong with you right now?" He looked taken aback at your response and attempted to backtrack, but you already turned around, angrily walking back to the dinner table.

When you take your seat, you ignore him taking his place next to you and you continue to eat silently. Everyone doesn't seem to know what had happened, and even then, Kento is still trying to gain your attention back.

When you finally look over at him, he tries to sooth you by caressing your hand, but you still give him that disappointed stare, unwavering and stone-cold. He purses his lips and tries to eat through the awkward energy. He tries to think of a few ideas to gain your love back by tonight.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi! I don't know if you do requests (idk if this is considered one) but I was wondering if you could continue the story of "Alfred's Boy" it left off at a hilarious time. I really want to know what happens next! 💖💖💖💖

Bruce admits he's a little nervous about how the opera goes. He had only meant to distract Wes and Danny, but thanks to Jason, almost all his children had demanded seats, too.

Thankfully, his contacts got him the biggest box set to accommodate them all. He wished he hadn't made the excuse of having plans already because then he could have gone with them. As it were, he only caught a glimpse of them strutting into the front entrance dressed in their best outfits.

Bruce thought they were practicing for the runway with the way they attempted to show off for Danny. It would have been adorable had it not been for the fact that Danny was much more focused on how excited Wes seemed to be as the other boy gawked at the gothic structure of the opera house.

It checked off another box on the "secret boyfriend" list, as Danny seemed unable to refuse Wes' demands. He posed in front of everything for a photo. Tim, in particular, was seething as Wes moved Danny into his desired poses, using, of all things, his camera phone.

"That's an insult to the art," Tim hissed, readjusting his suit jacket, when Wes fell to his knees so he could get a lower shot of a blushing Danny sitting by Gotham's Oprea sign. "He's not even adjusting the lighting settings!"

"Chum-" Bruce started only to have Damian cut him off.

"Would be a shame if Weston were to fall off the cliff while he was distracting photographing, my beloved."

"Danny is not yours, but you're right. It would be a shame," Tim smirked, inching towards the pair. Bruce yanked the two back by their collars, shaking them like misbehaving cats.

"No."

"But Father-"

"No."

Thankfully, Jason and Dick were able to ensure nothing happened to Wes. In fact, his eldest had convinced all the children to pose for Wes and even got the boy in a few of the shots. Danny seemed to be glowing.

Once the show started, Bruce decided that it would be perfect if he had a nice, long, bubbly bath. He has been stressed more than usual this weekend, so he would delay his patrol for maybe an hour so he could enjoy some nice classical music and have some chocolate.

He even stopped by that little boutique that would have the best bath bombs. The clerk made them locally, and he has yet to find ones that made his skin shine as bright as hers.

Not to mention, her Lavander mint mix was to die for. Even Alford enjoyed using one occasionally, which was highly praised. His butler was very peculiar when it came to mint-scented things.

With basket in hand, Bruce browsed the various scents of the bath bombs. He figured he could get the children some, too. They all had some aches and pains from years of vigilante fighting that a nice warm bath could help soothe.

He even selected a sample package that contained five various bath bombs for Wes and Danny to try out. He may not have known which scenes they liked the most, but he didn't want to make them feel excluded.

Bruce's phone dings as he debates getting three sample packages so the boys can try them all. Pulling it out, he makes the executive decision to do so, throwing two of the three in his basket.

It's a message from Cass.

It was odd that his daughter would text while the show was going on. She normally waits until after to use her phone as a performer herself. Fearing something had gone wrong, he clicked open the messaging app, already feeling a sense of dread.

Goodbye, sense of peace from a single father trying his best.

She sent a photo of herself and her siblings in their seats. Cass has it angled to look like a selfie, but while smiling wide at the camera in her outstretched hand behind her head, all of her siblings are facing somewhere else.

Steph, Tim, Damian, and Duke are glaring at the end of the aisle, where Wes is sitting next to Jason, and Danny is sitting on the wall on his other side. Both boys are flustered, leaning towards Jason, who is pointing out of the seat box—presumingly to the stage.

Dick is a buffer between Jason and the guest, reading the program with a content smile and casually pressing his hand into Duke's chest, pushing him away.

Cass captioned the photo with, "Family is sometimes me, my younger siblings, and the one twink they are in love with. Dick, Jason, and Wes are mere decorations."

Bruce sighs, adding a box of large, expensive chocolates to his basket. He's going to need them tonight.

He gives the counter girl a smile, even as she seemed generally surprised he was willing to buy half the merchandise in the spa section. The billionaire races home to have his long hot bath, amused to learn Alfred has the same thought.

They get crazy and even order pizza since the kids aren't home.

Hours later, Batman is on regular patrol, jumping through the city and stopping petty crimes. He swings by the opera house just in time to see Alfred pull up at the entrance to pick the kids up.

Wes is gushing to Danny again, holding his hand and gesturing with the other. His other children seemed rather peeved that they couldn't get any of Danny's attention while Jason, Dick, and Cass were busy eating ice cream cones.

Where did they even get that ice cream?

Suddenly, Wes looks around before he makes direct eye contact with Bruce through the binoculars. There is a hard look in his eye before Danny leans in to whisper into his ear. At once, Wes' face clears, and he cheerfully waves at Bruce.

He is miles away from them. How did the boy notice?

Something is not quite right with Alfred's guests.

[sturniqlo]

His Two Girls- M.S

summary: dad!matt husband!matt headcannons with his wife and daughter

cw: fluff, slight cursing

an: there will be many time jumps, from where their daughter was a baby to a girl in college | lowercase intended

masterlist

-----------------------------------------------

dad!matt who always takes pictures whenever he's sees his two girls together doing anything and everything.

"careful, sweetie." his wife says as their three year old daughter cracks an egg into a bowl of cake mix. "did it!" the little girl cheers throwing her hands up. matt quickly takes out his phone and captures a picture of y/n smiling down at their daughter.

"ready?" y/n tells the little girl who is standing at the edge of the pool, floaty around her waist. "daddy i'm scared!" she turns back at matt who is sitting on a lounge chair, towel wrapped around him while he holds his phone up with the camera app open. "you can do it, baby. mommy will catch you!" he encourages her. "okay! here i go, mommy!" she jumps and matt captures the moment.

"what's going on here?" matt says, walking into the bathroom where he sees his wife and thirteen year old daughter. "she wanted bangs before she starts school, so i'm about to cut them." she parts her hair. "wait, don't cut them so short!" their daughter shrieks as she sees her mom putting the scissors to high up. "i'm not, just measuring." she murmurs, focusing on her daughters hair. "i'm about to cut it, matt, move. makin' me nervous." matt laughs. "i haven't said anything." he takes his phone out, capturing the moment when she cuts her hair. shock on both of their faces when they realized it's too short. "mom!" "matt, can you make a appointment at the hair salon." she puts the scissors down on the counter.

their daughter was back home from college for her winter break, and time to relax from many exams. matt had returned home from work and heard giggling from the kitchen and soft music playing. peering through the corner, he sees his two favorite girls rolling out dough for cinnamon rolls. something they always loved to bake together. he pulls out his phone and takes multiple pictures before making himself known.

dad!matt who cries on any milestone their daughter achieved/meets

"matt stop! i promised myself i wouldn't cry!" she lightly swats his chest, seeing his tears fall down to his cheeks as they watch their little girl walk in line to enter her classroom for her very first day of pre-k. "i can't help it, look at her." he points, they see their daughter wave at them with a smile, her two pigtails swinging. "oh my god, i can't look anymore." his wife's tears start falling.

"are you crying?" y/n giggles. "stop making fun of me!" matt wipes his tears looking away from his two girls. "look at it, her tooth is so small." she places it on a napkin. "there's a hole in my mouth!" their daughter screams from the bathroom down the hall.

"oh, look. she's next!" y/n pats matt's shoulder as she sees their daughter about to cross the stage. "here come my tears, shit. chris, record on my phone!" he passes his phone to chris who's sitting next to nick. "matt, my mascara." y/n taps her under eyes with a tissue. "look! she's about to walk." they all get up and cheer for her as she walks and waves at them. outside, they take pictures matt can't help but cry. "dad, why are you crying?" his daughter giggles. "look at you, you're growing up and you're about to leave for college. how could i not cry?"

"matt, why are you crying? she just used the toilet? "because she won't be using diapers anymore, she's growing up!"

dad!matt who always goes in daddy daughter dates every friday

"you ready, sweetie?" matt says as he sees his five year old daughter sitting on the couch. "yep! where are we going today?" she jumps off the couch, walking to her dad. "we're going to lunch and then we're going to do anything you want." he grabs her small hand, walking them to the front door. "excuse me, little miss? are you not going to say bye to me?" y/n dramatically gasps as she comes down the stairs.

"i'm not sure if your mom will let us go anywhere alone again." matt says, as he look back at his ten year old daughter in the back seat holding a small puppy. since she gets to choose whatever they do, she decided to to a animals shelter. when they walked in, the worker showed them a litter of puppies that had found in a dumpster. "let's get one." she had said and matt had gotten the paperwork. here they are now. "at lease we got a puppy." she said. at home, they had tried to sneak through the back door but, y/n was unfortunately in her garden nursery. "oh hey, you two. what'd you guys do to-" she drops her small gardening shovel. "matthew? why is she holding a puppy. and why are you holding dog food, bed and toyy?" she sighs. "surprise?"

matt and y/n's daughter had been away at college for about four months now. she had missed waking up to smelling her mom making breakfast, gardening with her, going shopping, baking and cooking. something she had especially missed was her weekly daddy daughter dates with matt. two weeks earlier, she had called her mom and let her know of her plan. y/n was excited, knowing how much matt had missed his weekly days out with their daughter. she had booked their daughter a ticket so she could come home for a week. "hey, matt! can you get the door?" y/n excitedly bit her lip. "who's coming over?" he gets up off the couch and walks towards the door. "not sure." she follows trying not to ruin the surprise. as he opens the door he gasps at who's behind it. "ready for our date?" "oh my gosh, you're here!"

"where you goin'?" y/n asks giggling, as he sees matt and their one year old daughter on his hip come down the stairs in matching outfits. "thought me and this little one should go to the park, and give you some needed alone time from the crazy one." he walks to her, placing a hand on the small of her back to lean down and give her a goodbye kiss. "the crazy one being you?" she mumbles against his lips. "okay." he says and she laughs. "we'll be back later. say bye to mommy." he looks at the baby on his hip and waves at y/n so the little girl can copy. "bye-bye." she does a small wave.

husband!matt who also loves going on weekly dates/ alone time with his wife and makes his brothers babysit

"should we?" y/n second guesses her and matt's first night out ever since their daughter came into the world. "yes, it's much needed, okay? we both need a break once in a while from parenting. it's been five months of straight craziness." he rubs her cheeks as they stand in the middle of their room. "you're right, but we've never been away from her for so long, the most we've left her with chris and nick was probably an hour max."

"and make sure you guys burp her a couple of minutes after feeding her, and no screen time for her, we don't want her to be an ipad kid. and-" matt gets interrupted by chris. "matt we get it, we babysat her last week and the many weeks before that." nick giggles at a funny face the baby did while holding her. "shoo shoo, parents night out, whoo! go do- whatever you guys were going to do." he pushes the couple out the door. "send me pictures, please. i can't go a couple of hours without seeing her face." y/n says before chris closes the door. "got it!" he says. "and don't forget-" matt gets cut off by chris slamming the door in his face. "did he just slam my own door in my own face?"

"any reason why we're not babysitting at your house?" nick says going through the baby bag. "no reason at all." matt smiles, "we thought she could use a change of scenery for once." chris fakes gags. "yeah, right." he says. "oh shut it, chris. sorry you can't get nothing." y/n places her daughter in his hands. at the door, nick follows to show them out. "please don't give us another niece or nephew until this one can do everything on her own, not sure if we can handle two babies at once."

"miss having you all to myself, babe." matt brings y/n's knuckles up to his lips to kiss them, pressing a longer kiss onto her the finger where her sparkly ring sits. this was another week where they dropped off their daughter at chris and nick house instead of having them babysit here. "yeah, me too. but i love our little family." she wraps her arms around him before falling backwards on the bed. "me too, care to expand it?" he kisses along her jaw, down her neck. "i would love to." she says before he slowly undresses her and unbuckles his belt.

husband!matt who reminds y/n to dedicate a whole day to herself to get a break from mom life

"no, matt, she needs me." she sighs. "i know, i know. but, you need a break too, even if it's from your own baby. i know we have our dates but you need a day for you. you're here at home with her all day everyday, i know you get overwhelmed sometimes." he puts her purse in her hand. "so, go out and come back whenever you want. you can get some coffee, eat lunch, get your nails done, i know you miss doing that, hang out with friends. whatever you want, m'kay?" he kisses her forehead. "are you sure?" "yes, baby."

"y/n your sister is here!" matt lets his sister-in-law in the house. "my sister? why is she here?" y/n says confusingly, feeding her eight month old daughter her bottle. "ouch?" her sister says and matt laughs. "it's your day!" matt says "i had one last week, though." "so? here, i'll finish feeding her. go get ready."

"a girls trip?" y/n says into her phone, talking to her best friend. "i don't know, matt works the whole week and i have nobody to watch the baby." matt walks into the kitchen where y/n is cooking. "oh! matt just got home." he goes to y/n and kisses her cheek. "where is she?" he refers to their daughter "she's napping." "so, what do you say, y/n?" her best friend says. "i'm going to have to pass up on that, sorry." "pass up on what?" matt says, grabbing a piece of garlic bread y/n had taken out of the over earlier. "i was just telling y/n about going on a girls trip." there's some ruffling in the background. "she's in." matt grabs yet another piece. "what? i am?" matt nods. "im sure i can pull some strings at work. you deserve a girls trip."

dad!matt who is overprotective over his daughter when it comes to boys

"that little boy is tooo close to her for my liking." matt mumbles to y/n "matt, they're six, and they're just standing in line." she says, laughing. "still."

"why're you so smiley and giggly today?" matt told his daughter as he picked her up from school, deciding that y/n should go to a spa to treat herself. "nothing!" she says in a singsong tone. "you're being suspicious." he opens the car door for her to get in. "timmykissedmycheekatrecess!" she blurts out and covers her mouth right after. "what was that, honey?" he says confusingly as he didn't understand her. "nevermind." "oh, okay?" later that day, y/n and their fifth grader were at the dinner table doing homework while matt finished up some online work. "guess what, mom." "what?" she smiles. "remember timmy?" she nods. "i remember him, yes." she recalls her daughters crush. matt, in the living room can't help but eavesdrop. "he kissed my cheek at recess today." matt gasps in the living room. "is that so? does dad know? he picked you up today." "now i know!" he says from the living room, getting up to meet them at the dining room. "who's timmy?"

"hey, dad." the now sophomore in high school walks into her dads office with a fruit bowl for him. "hey, sweetie. bring my wallet, i know you want something." he says looking up from his laptop, taking the bowl of fruit from her. "no, no, i don't want you to buy me something this time." she laughs and wraps her arms around him. "okay, you're scaring me." he hugs her back. "can i go out with a friend tomorrow after school?" she whispers. "have you asked mom." she nods. "she told me to ask you." "okay then, you can go." she lets go of him. "great, okay, because it's a date." she says quickly before she tries to walk out. "wait, wait, wait. come back here." she groans. "dad, you and mom said yes already." she turns back to face him. "does you mom know it's a date?" she nods. "and she's okay with it?" "yes, she was happy for me." "i want to meet them first, so come over here first and then you two can go." she gasps. "really? you're letting me go?!" he nods. "unfortunately, but, i know it's a part of you growing up, it was bound to happen anyways."

"mom, i would like you to meet, my boyfriend." she motions her arms to her boyfriend she met back at college. "it's nice to finally meet you, ms.sturniolo." the boy shakes her hand. "please, call me y/n. and it's nice to finally meet you too, i've heard many good things about you." she looks at y/n. "is dad home?" her daughter asks. "nope, unfortunately, he had to run into work really quickly to sign some papers. he'll be back soon though." the girl was a bit nervous for her dads reaction to meeting her boyfriend. he could be a bit overprotective sometimes. "i'm home! is my wonderful daughter here yet?" matt walks through the door and hour after she had arrived. "dad!" she runs to her dad who she hasn't seen in a couple of months. "oh, i missed you so much!" he hugs here, kissing her forehead, temple and cheek. "is he here?" he whispers. "yes, please don't do anything to scare him, he's nervous as is." she whispers back. "no promises." "dad!" he laughs. "kidding, kidding" he holds his hands up in surrender.

"who's noah?" matt holds his daughters phone up, as it was blowing up next to him while she was in the kitchen making a snack as matt's chicken got burned so now they're waiting until y/n gets home to eat an unburned meal. "a friend." she says, eating a spoonful of her cereal. "why is he telling you 'see you tomorrow love you so much?'" matt emphasizes on the he. "she is the friend i'm hanging out with tomorrow and me and her always tell each other we love one another." matt's face turns red in embarrassment. "oh- well she sent you some other messages, sorry."

dad&husband!matt who always reminds his wife and daughter how much he loves them.

"where are my two favorite girls?" matt walks into the living room, hiding his hands behind his back holding something. "we're here! we're here!" the seven year old little girl says from the carpeted floor where she was coloring with her mom. "hi, babe." y/n says. "alright, who's favorite color is pink?" he asks, already knowing the answer. "me, me, me!" the little girl gets up. "i believe these are for you." he pulls out a bouquet of pink roses from behind him. the little girl gasps. "they're so pretty!" "and who's favorite color is red?" he asks the little girl. "that's mommy's favorite color! mommy, he got you the same ones but in red!" "thank you, baby." y/n kisses his lips. "i love you two very much, okay?" he hugs both of them.

"you're amazing, i hope you know that." he kisses his wife's forehead as she just gave birth to their daughter a few hours ago. "thank you, matt." she says tiredly. "i love you so much, so so much. never forget that." he says as she slowly starts to fall asleep. "i love you more, matt." two hours later, y/n is still napping, and matt has been contacting and responding to more of their families messages until he hears his newborn start to cry. not wanting y/n to wake up he quickly gets up at attends to her. "hi, little one. don't cry, don't want mommy to wake up. she's been through so much, yeah?" he cradles her in his arms and she quickly stops crying and opens her eyes and stares at him. "look at your eyes, so much like your mommy's, and your little nose. you're beautiful." he rubs her small cheek with his finger. "i love you so much, and i will do everything to show you just how much. i'll do everything to protect you and your mommy, everything to take care of you two." he whispers. "i love my two girls."

[literaila]

worth

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: the past comes back to haunt you, as it usually does.

warnings: angst, allusions to disassociation, hurt/comfort, mama is sad

last part | next part

*

year five.

"wait for me," satoru tells megumi, as soon as he starts walking away. 

you're watching as megumi hangs his head, looking like he'd failed at his one objective--escaping--and turns around, glaring at satoru. 

you've all been out shopping for the past two hours. getting the kids new clothes, shoes, whatever else satoru swears they need... 

honestly, he's kind of cute running around like a maniac from store to store. showing tsumiki a cute dress she could wear, or teasing megumi into trying on a sweatshirt that matches his. 

it's quite possibly the only reason you haven't complained. 

or pointed out that both of the kids are on the verge of whining all the way home. or that he doesn't need to spend 100,000 yen to make them happy. 

"hurry up," megumi tells the man, basically growling at him. 

satoru grins and ruffles his hair, resting a hand on his back as the two of them begin to navigate through the crowd. mostly likely, neither of them knows where they're going. 

you're not even sure where a bathroom is in this district. 

"we'll wait here," you call out, nudging tsumiki. satoru turns briefly to give you a little peace sign, a little grin, and then he murmurs something to megumi you can't hear and they're both gone. 

you're a little worried about them being alone together in this state but you ignore it.

"guess it's just you and me, miki," you say to the little girl at your side. she beams up at you, nodding. "do you want to sit down? how do the shoes feel?" 

"mmm," she looks down, blinking at the sparkly shoes satoru insisted were perfect for her. "they're rubbing at my ankles a little." 

"we can get some new socks, too. that should help. c'mon, i think there's a bench over there." 

she grabs your hand as you begin towards the bench, humming something under her breath. 

you look down to smile at her and don't notice the person walking by, accidentally bumping into them. "oh, i'm sorry, excuse us--" you turn and your entire body lurches away from you. 

for a brief moment, you're not yourself. your conscious moves in an instant, ready to defend itself from everything, anything. you're not yourself, but someone else. someone you used to know very well. 

"i--" you breathe, freezing at the person in front of you. 

tsumiki pulls on your hand a little, confused when you stop suddenly. she looks to the woman standing in front of you, with a bizarre look on her face, and then tsumiki's brown eyes go back to you, her face riddled with curiosity. 

"y/n?"

i don't remember a lot about her but i remember hugging her when she got home from work, and the way she said my name-- 

you want to forget it all. 

it's clear now, several years later, that you would rather forget everything about her--about this woman standing in front of you, basically a reflection of yourself--than have to do this all over again. then have to face the memories of what she did to you. then put that child through any of it. 

"hi--hey," you say because you have to. 

here's the thing about seeing your mom for the first time in a decade: you can't just pretend you didn't. 

you'd like to turn right around and walk away. you'd like to pretend that you've grown sometime in the past nine years, that you've turned into someone who doesn't need to stay and talk to her. you'd like to think that you're someone who can cut her right out of your life and feel all of the better for it. 

but you're not. 

you can't run away from your mother. you can't apologize for bumping into her and turn around with tsumiki's hand in yours and forget about it. actually, you can't even move right now. 

because there's still this girl inside of you.

there's still this child, a teenager who tried so desperately to earn the approval of this woman and never got it. who tried so hard to be everything that this woman wanted, but could never try enough. 

and she's clinging to your chest right now, breathing into your skin like a toxin, digging her nails into your heart and begging you to try again. telling you that you've got another shot, a chance she couldn't have--

so you can't leave now. not when you owe it to her, to yourself to try, to trick yourself into believing that it was just a fault of your own, that your childhood memories are only the result of some flaws you've already fixed. 

you can't walk away when your mind is stuck on her, her, and--tsumiki. 

your broken eyes turn to her.

your little girl who is standing right beside you, waiting for your next move. if you told her to run, she would. if you told her to stay by your side and say nothing, to hide behind you, she would. she wouldn't even ask you what was going on. 

but for no reason at all, you can't tell tsumiki anything. you can't whisper to her that it's fine, that everything is fine. you can't introduce her or drag her away. 

you can't do anything and it's never felt worse. 

"i thought that was you," your mother says, tilting her head at you. she's staring like this is just a casual bump in. like you're colleagues who haven't seen each other since she went on vacation. "you look... grown." 

you feel naive. there's nothing you can say to this woman to prove to her that you're better than you were. that you're far too good for her.

"thanks," you whisper, even though you know it's not a compliment. it's an instinct to appeal to her. to be polite and perfect.

your mom clasps her hands together. if you were looking at her--which you're not, you wouldn't dare--you might be able to tell that she's uncomfortable with you being there. almost surprised. 

maybe she just assumed that you'd die as soon as you left the comfort of your childhood home. maybe she thought that they would've kicked you out of jujutsu high a day after you arrived, leaving you to starve on the street just like she did. 

"well, how are you?" 

you swallow. "i'm good." 

she nods, and then she looks to your side and finally notices tsumiki there. 

tsumiki, with her precious face, her beautiful brown eyes, and carefully organized hair. 

you're not sure what your mother sees when she looks at her.

you wish more than anything that you could hide her. you don't want your mom's--you don't want this woman's eyes on her. you don't want her to say a single word to your daughter. 

"and who's this?" 

but you can't just send her away. you have no idea where satoru went, and tsumiki can't walk around on her own. not right now, not when you're so preoccupied. 

you just can't walk away. 

tsumiki holds her hand out, just like you taught her. "i'm tsumiki fushiguro." 

"it's nice to meet you," your mother answers, shaking her hand warily like she's certain that she might get an infection from tsumiki's skin. and then she looks at you, not daring to ask what she wants to.

you clench your jaw, wanting to slap her hand away from tsumiki. 

you should've put up a barrier a minute ago. the only possible block between you and a woman who doesn't deserve the pleasure of meeting tsumiki. who deserves no explanations from you. 

but your cursed energy is frozen in place, and you know that if you shut yourself in, you'll never get back out. 

"my daughter," you add, a bit louder now. 

your mom's eyebrows raise immediately and she pauses, looking between the two of you, searching for some useless resemblance. like it isn't obvious that you share a bond, just from the way your hands are intertwined. like it's not obvious that you braided tsumiki's hair, or helped her pick out the shoes she's wearing. 

like it might not be true. 

still, she asks tsumiki, "how old are you?" 

"twelve." 

and you know where her mind goes immediately. thinking that it can't be possible. she knew you when you were twelve, and you certainly weren't pregnant with the little girl standing beside you. you certainly weren't developing any maternal skills locked away in your room, with only the curse that liked to hide in the walls to teach you.

it brings that resentment to the surface of your core, threatening to burst through your skin. you feel suddenly so angry you can't bear it. 

and you're not that girl anymore, you realize. you haven't been since you met nanami and haibara and satoru. 

since you learned that you were only a child and not a trophy that needed to live up to its name. 

"well," your mom sighs, shaking her head. "i can't say this is what i expected." 

"excuse me?" 

"really, what do you know about children, y/n? don't you think you're a little young?" 

tsumiki looks up at you with a frown, about to ask what she means when you stop her. 

you squeeze her hand and look away, into the eyes of the woman who created you--who has that string of biology she just judged you and tsumiki for lacking--and still didn't care. 

she is nothing if not the proof that dna means absolutely nothing. 

"what do you know about children, mom?" you repeat, rhetorically. "at least i know that a ten-year-old shouldn't spend every hour of the day locked in their room, waiting for someone to come let them out." 

"i'm shocked that you--" 

"at least i know that a child is a gift and not a toy to hide away when you get bored of it." 

your mom scoffs. "i can't believe this--"

"neither can i," you say and look to your daughter, who's got wide brown eyes and a confused sort of fear on her face. she doesn't need to hear anything else you have to say to this woman. you smile at her, soft as ever. "go look for dad, okay? he shouldn't be far." 

it's been five minutes, and satoru's probably right around the corner, you rationalize. he's going to come pick up tsumiki and rescue you any second now. 

tsumiki nods immediately, letting go of your hand. she turns to go do what you said, but before she can there's a strong hand on your shoulder, a body right beside yours, and you almost gasp in relief. 

"found him," tsumiki tells you, softly. 

you turn to satoru, wanting to beg him to carry you away from her, to get you away from her--but the words won't come. you're too struck by the view of his face, and the knowledge that when you finally escape from this, he's going to be right there. 

satoru was there the first time, and he'll linger for the second. 

his shaded eyes look back at you, observing for a second, reading your mind, and then he turns. 

megumi is trailing at his side, holding a shopping bag. he looks between this stranger and you, a cautious look on his face. 

tsumiki is telling him something without any words. 

"hello," satoru says, smoothly, breaking the silence. "i don't believe we've met. do you know y/n?" 

your mother frowns, scoffing. "i'm her mother." 

you can see it when satoru reels back, looking between the two of you for a moment, an intense realization on his face. 

maybe he can see the resemblance. the face that might be your own in just a few years. 

or maybe, finally, he can feel the horrors of being raised by her. all of the things you've never dared to tell him. 

you're pleading satoru for something with your eyes but you're not even sure what.

"there's another one?" your mom asks, almost disgusted, as satoru processes. "how old are you?" 

megumi frowns. he walks over to tsumiki, who's already picked up your hand, and asks you: "this is your mom?" 

you nod at him, relieved more than anything that he's there, with the rest of you. and that if you can't explain, satoru will handle it. 

megumi considers it for a second. "are you sure?" 

and you want to laugh so abruptly that it shocks you. you want to grab him by the face and kiss all across his cheeks. 

tsumiki is already smiling at you like she knows this. her grip is strong against yours.

satoru smiles at your mom, a vicious ugly thing. "did you need something from her?" 

"i--no, we just ran into each other," she tells him, seemingly confused by his entire presence. she looks at you. "who is he? another child of yours?" 

satoru licks his lips. "not quite." 

you're about to answer when he grabs your empty hand, shaking his head. "i don't think there's anything y/n needs to say to you," he tells her, coldly. then he looks at you. "is there?" 

"no," you whisper, coveting the feeling of his hand in yours. the two children at your side, who know what it's like to be loved. megumi and tsumiki, who will never feel unwanted, as long as you have a say in it. 

satoru nods, guffly, and turns. "it was a pleasure to meet you," he says, and he moves all of you away. you can almost feel it when he shields the three of you from the rest of the world.

with his hand in yours, the other in tsumiki's, and megumi on the other side of her, satoru leads you all away from her. 

and you let him. because the three of them are more of a family--a better, safer one--than that woman ever was. 

you can't thank them all for being there, being yours, in this moment, but you will. 

at least you know that. 

*

satoru has been watching you for hours. 

since you all got home and the kids' questions began. 

that was your mom? 

yes. 

why haven't we met her before? 

i haven't seen her in a long time. 

was she upset? 

yes. 

why? 

because i'm happier than she thought i'd be, you said, i have a better family. 

are we going to see her again? 

absolutely not. 

after that, the two of them quieted. satoru could tell that they had more questions, that megumi was curious and tsumiki was worried--but neither of them continued. 

it was almost unspoken that you couldn't take much more. that you needed a break from it, even if you wouldn't say. so they both moved on, resuming their usual antics and talking about the clothes they got, when and where they'd wear them. 

well, mostly tsumiki. but megumi entertained her thoughts for a while at least. 

satoru just watched you. the tiny break within your eyes, the gap between you and the rest of the world. you've remained all the same since you got home. cursed energy small, unchanging. your face in one position like it'll kill you to move it. 

satoru can't stand it, but he doesn't want to intrude. he doesn't want you to push him away too. 

so he only sat there, trying to fill your role (which was impossible) at the dinner table. 

and several hours later, after dinner, after space, satoru still hasn't brought it up. 

but he doesn't get the chance to. because as soon as you've put both of them to bed--insisting on tucking them in and talking to them both separately tonight, like you're making up for something--you're sneaking into satoru's room. 

and he's waiting like he always is. his arms are wide open when you walk into the room, and there's not a moment of hesitation before you fall into them. you don't blink or breathe before you're right against him, keeping yourself up with nothing more than blood and bone. 

satoru hugs you close to him, trying to let everything he feels go, just for you. 

(because he's just angry. 

he's angry that she showed up and ruined your day. he's angry that he wasn't there to keep it from happening. he's angry that when he walked over he could tell there was something wrong because you were frozen--because you were almost barren. no cursed energy, no expression. nothing to draw him to you like usual. 

and he's so angry that he can't do anything to fix it. 

so angry that being the strongest sorcerer of the modern age means nothing when he really needs it to. 

satoru isn't a person who hates. he never hated the people who attempted to tie him down as a kid so he couldn't escape observation. he didn't hate toji when he cut him through the throat. he didn't hate suguru for leaving, or yaga for asking why he didn't stop him. 

he doesn't hate. 

but he hates her.

for taking your face and twisting it around. for stealing your childhood and pretending like she didn't. for holding your precious heart in her hands and acting like it was nothing of value.

he hates her.) 

you both sit there, rocking back and forth, sinking together for a moment. 

and then you sniff, and satoru closes his eyes against your head, not sure what to say to make it all better. 

what he can do to erase this feeling from your body. what he can do to prove to you that you're worth so much more. 

"do you think i'm a good mom?" you whisper to him, as he moves back and forth. 

his heart pauses, needing a moment to consider this. to not feel a fire in his soul at the very suggestion. 

satoru pulls back, frowning. and he makes sure that your eyes are on his when he says, "there's not a person in the world who could take better care of them than you do," he swears, feeling like it's the most honest thing he's ever said. 

he wants to brand the words into your skin just so you never ask such a ridiculous question again. 

"thank you," you say, voice breaking, and satoru wipes the tears falling down your cheeks away. each one a different memory, a terrible moment where someone showed you that you didn't matter. 

and when they continue to fall, satoru continues to wipe them away. 

"do you want to talk about it?" he asks, almost hesitating. he's not sure that he can handle hearing about it--but he would if you needed him to. 

"not tonight," you whisper and fall against him again. 

satoru holds you close. 

and he swears, to whoever is listening, that he'll love you enough to make up for that woman. he'll love you enough to make up for everything.

he loves you enough to be sure of it. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[withahappyrefrain]

FRAT TASM!PETER WITH

“I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard/wet. Wanna hear about it?”

THIS IS SOMETHING THAT COCKY ASSHOLE WOULD SAYYY OH MY GOD

This is how blonde frat Peter returns bless you

Warning: language, frat Peter being a cocky little shit, female reader, I think that's it!

"Hey, you made it after all."

You audbily breathe in through your nose, trying to ignore the fumes of vodka and who knows what else was in this God forsaken jungle juice.

Anything to give you the strength to face Peter Parker.

You turn around to find him leaning against the door, a joint tucked behind his ear, hands in the pocket of his black hoodie, bleached blonde hair somehow perfectly messy.

"Don't get ahead of yourself Parker. I'm only here to support my roommate," you scoff, turning your attention back to the game of beer pong. Not that you were truly interested.

But you couldn't let him know that.

You regret being late to the first day of your Science Diplomacy & World Health class. Had you known it would have left you no choice but to sit next to Peter Parker, you wouldn't have hit the snooze button for your alarm five times.

It wasn't even like you had asked to borrow a pencil from him. He seemed drawn to you, like a moth to a flame.

"Y'know, I feel like I would have remembered a face like yours. You a transfer?" He asked, as if you two weren't in the middle of a lecture.

Thanks to your roommate being in the sorority that paired up with his frat, you had heard all about Peter Parker. The infamous parties. How he dyed his hair blonde at the beginning of sophomore. How he's the biggest flirt that Delta Lambda Phi had.

You didn't even look at him when you responded, "We've been in the same class since freshman year. But I came here to get a degree, not to party."

Ever since that day, he wouldn't leave you alone. At first it started with ridiculously over the top pick up lines.

"Are you made up of copper and tellurium? Because you're cute."

All you could do was roll your eyes at every line, mustering all the strength you had to not smile. You had eyes, the guy was cute. But you also knew his type.

So when he extended a personal invite to the latest frat party, you simply turned him down, like you had for countless of other parties.

Of course, as luck would have it, it was exactly the party your roommate wanted to go to.

You hoped to avoid him, hoped that your roommate would find whoever she was looking for so you could leave.

But it was as if Peter Parker had a sixth sense for you specifically. His inability to find you in libraries, dinning halls, and the university's coffee shop (bc fuck Starbucks) had now extended to frat parties.

"You know Parker, stalking is a serious crime," you scoff, refusing to look at him. The ever present scent of cinnamon alerted you that he was now standing next to you.

"It's not my fault you have a beautiful face that I could pick out from a crowd," He mumbles, a stark contrast to the usual cocky bravada you're used to.

"Excuse me?" Without thinking, you turn to face him, making contact with those big brown eyes.

The corner of his pink lips jerk upwards as he leans in, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. His touch is gentle, something you weren't expecting at all.

"You heard me." The cocky smile had returned, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Hey, don't gimme that. I know you love how cheesy I am."

Unfortunately, it was true. He was never crude and it somehow sounded genuine, despite being accompanied by a worn snapback.

"It's not crass, unlike your fellow brotherin. I'll give you that Parker." You would have taken a step back if you could, but you were now up against the wall. But he still had space to close in on you, not that he did. He always kept enough distance that you could walk away.

Come to think of it, you hadn't seen or heard him flirt with anyone since the first day of classes.

"Y'know, I got an offer from Delta Chi. It could be way worse." His comment earned a laugh from you, a feat Peter was quite proud of.

"You're right, I guess I should give you that."

"I think you can give me a lot more," He leaned in, closing some of the distance between you two but not all the way, "If you want."

The ball was in your court. His lips looked so soft, no doubt from the vanilla chapstick he used. God, why did you know that about him? And why did he always smell like cinnamon instead of Axe body spray? That's what he should be using, it would certainly make it easier for you to discourage your own feelings about the guy.

Tired of denying, tired of putting up a wall, and not kissing anyone in the last four months caused you to grab at his hoodie, your lips crashing onto his.

You vaguely register the sound of the dropped plastic cup, as your fingers thread through his hair to find it soft, despite all the hair dye and bleach.

Peter's hands feel large as they skim your sides, landing at your hips. When his tongue slid across your bottom lip, you could feel your knees begin to go weak. As if he could sense it, he pushed your back firmly against the wall, one of his large hands going down to your thigh to help steady you.

Fuck, his lips were soft. There was muscle underneath that hoodie, you could feel it.

His lips trailed down to your jaw before settling on your ear.

"I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard. Wanna hear about it?"

Desire burned at the pit of your stomach, your fingers gripping the strands of his hair.

"Where the fuck is your bedroom Parker?"

[burntsaltsblog]

cruelty - billy butcher x reader

༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻

details: butcher is being a real ass, so you decide to run away for a bit <3

༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻

"Well, if ya' tried putting effort into any of these missions, then the rest of us wouldn't have to carry you around like dead weight."

Butcher's words hung in the air before piercing me. I met his gaze, waiting to see if he'd display even a tiny ounce of regret, but his face remained stoic, and his eyes bore into mine unapologetically.

No one said anything, and a tense silence encompassed the group. Everyone was waiting to see if I had a rebuttal to defend myself against Butcher's harsh accusation.

But I had nothing to say. For weeks, Butcher had been unusually nasty towards me, a complete switch from our old dynamic. Instead of his praise that I'd grown used to, he'd hurl nothing but criticism and bitter insults my way. And what made it worse was that he was charming to everyone else. Well, as charming as Butcher was capable of being.

The whole situation was disheartening and confusing because he and I used to be quite close. Yes, we had a significant age gap between us. But those years didn't hinder our ability to connect over our love of bizarre humor and sarcasm.

The rest of the boys assumed that we had had some misunderstanding or disagreement, but nothing of the sort had transpired. I had tried approaching Butcher to coax the reasoning for his cruelty out of him, but he brushed me off, refusing to give me the time of day.

But today was the last straw. I refused to linger any longer in an environment where I wasn't wanted or appreciated. Wordlessly and full of resolve, I turned on my heel and headed for the comfort of my room.

"Kid, wait," MM called, trying to fix the situation, but it was useless. I slammed my bedroom door behind me and slowly sank to the floor.

I didn't bother stopping my tears as they shamefully slid down my face. Through my blurred vision, I pulled out my phone and composed a text to an old friend.  

Me:

Hey, do you still need help this weekend?

I used to be a drug dealer and ran in various questionable circles to support myself before I joined The Boys. But I still had friends from my former life that I kept in touch with, and every once in a while, I'd dip my toe back into the drug scene when they needed help with an extra burdensome deal. And right now, I was desperate for any excuse to get out of here.

Alex:

Have you changed your mind about joining?

Me:

Yeah, I have. It's an out-of-town one, right?

Alex:

Yup. We'll be gone for at least three days, so pack a bag. And you can crash here tonight because we have to head out early in the morning.

Grateful for the impromptu getaway, I packed my small duffle bag with my spare pair of black jeans, sweaters since it was getting cold outside, and other essentials like face wash and my phone charger.

Considering it was just past midnight, I didn't have to wait long before I heard the guys mumble goodnight to each other from the other side of my door before they all retreated to their respective rooms.

I waited five minutes to be safe before opening my door and peering out. The common room in our bunker under the pawn shop was empty, and I took it as an opportunity to sneak out. I tiptoed up the old wooden stairs and breathed a sigh of relief after bolting through the old store and out the door, letting the chilly New York air blow across my face.

The walk to Alex's apartment was short because I was already close to that side of town. And I arrived soon enough with my duffle bag in tow.

"You look like shit," Alex said, opening their apartment door and quickly letting me in.

"Well, hello to you too."

Alex snorted as they pulled me in for a hug before directing me towards the couch I would be sleeping on that night.

"Don't let the bed bugs bite!" They called, heading into their room to rest for the night.

I dumped my bag on the floor and fell onto the couch. It squeaked loudly in protest, and I felt several springs dig into my spine. But I wasn't complaining. Anything was better than sharing a wall with Butcher, knowing the hate he now carried for me. Besides, he snored terribly loud, which the entire group complained about daily.

After some extensive tossing and turning, I fell into a fitful sleep.

༺༻

"Rise and shine, motherfucker!" Alex yelled.

I jerked awake before immediately falling onto the floor. The decades-old carpet did little to cushion the blow, and I groaned loudly as my head throbbed in protest.

I peered up at Alex from my place on the floor and saw them holding two coffee cups. "Want some?"

"Yes, please." I rose gingery before sitting back on the sofa and accepting one of the steaming mugs. I took a small sip and nodded thanks to my friend.

"We need to get on the road in twenty minutes because our first client expects us to arrive at eight tonight. And I don’t want to be late so we can make a good first impression."

"I think the eighteen pounds of coke you're selling them should help win their approval," I said, taking an enormous gulp of the caffeinated beverage.

"Speaking of coke, I need you to help load it into the car. Come on."

༺༻

"You gonna answer that?" Alex asked from the driver's seat on our way to Bardstown, Kentucky.

"No. It's probably just spam."

Alex glanced from the road ahead to give me a knowing look. "I don't think any spam caller would ever waste their time calling the same person two hundred times."

"It's not my fault they're dedicated to their job," I mumbled.

My friend chuckled, shaking their head.

I rolled my eyes and finally peered at my phone after ignoring its constant ringing for six hours. Hughie had texted me a wapping eighty-seven times and called me fifty-one times, which wasn't surprising because he did tend to be a phone stalker. I scrolled through his messages, landing on the most recent one sent three minutes ago.

Hughie:

Look, I get that you're pissed at Butcher, and that's probably why you left. But please let us know that you're safe. We're freaking out over here.

I sighed heavily before I forced my fingers to type out a response.

Me:

I'm fine. I'm out of town helping a friend. Sorry to worry you. I'll be back on Monday.

I pondered over the words before deciding to go ahead and send it. It was a little colder and more direct than how I usually communicated, especially to Hughie. But I knew he'd understand.

Hughie's reply came within seconds. But before I could read it, the notification of an incoming call covered my screen. A lump formed in my throat when I saw Butcher's name flashing in front of my eyes. My thumb hovered over the 'accept' button before I shook my head and hurriedly declined the call. I am sure he only called to yell at me for disappearing, and I wasn't in the mood to be reprimanded by him.

"I can drive the rest of the way," I offered, returning my focus to Alex.

"No thanks, I'm good," They responded like I knew they would. Alex was very particular about driving and refused to get into an operating motor vehicle unless they were the one behind the wheel. I respected that, but it still felt like the right thing to do was offer so it didn't look like I was putting the burden of transportation on them.

My phone vibrated, notifying me that I'd received another text, and I reluctantly viewed the message.

Butcher:

I know you ignored my call.

Ok? And the sky is also blue. I'm so glad he's able to notice the obvious. At least there's nothing wrong with him in that department.

Just as I decided to ignore his text, his name lit up on my phone again, signaling another incoming call. I slumped in my seat, and groaned under my breath. Again, my finger pushed the red icon, sending him straight to voicemail. Not even a second later, Butcher began to call for the third time.

"You know," said Alex, "If you answered the phone, they might stop calling."

"I'd answer if it was anyone else. I refuse to talk to this particular person."

"Alright, have it your way," they muttered, changing lanes.

We fell quiet, and the only sound was my phone as it buzzed with a final text.

Butcher:

Please come back.

༺༻

"I'd say that was pretty successful," I declared as we pulled into our Kentucky motel the next day. We had just finished our final deal, and while it was a little tedious, Alex's client ended up being happy overall with their purchase and promised they'd do business again.

"Yeah, thank God," Alex replied, cutting the engine after pulling into a parking spot. "I'm just grateful you were there. I think your presence was a great influence. You're still a legend in the drug community," they smirked.

I laughed lightly. "I'm happy to help anytime."

"Watch out because I will hold you to that promise."

We piled out of the car, and I waited out front while Alex headed in to get the key to our room. It was just past one in the morning, and I glanced over my shoulder, staying on high alert.

Alex exited the front entrance and dangled a key triumphantly. After entering our room, we each fell onto a twin-sized bed, and I watched as Alex almost instantly fell asleep.

I curled up on the wrinkled comforter for a few minutes before sitting up and rummaging through my bag for my phone; it had died a couple of hours ago, and now was my first opportunity to charge it.

I had received a text from Hughie asking if I was ok, to which I replied that I was, and I hadn't heard from Butcher since I'd blocked him last night when he proceeded to call me every thirty seconds, disrupting my sleep.

With nothing else to do, I slipped my jeans off, stashed my handheld in the bedside drawer, rolled under the covers, and attempted to sleep.

༺༻

"That was fun. We should do it again sometime," Alex said as they pulled up to the pawn shop.

I nodded my head. "Yeah, it felt like old times."

We hugged before I got out of the car and looked up at the one building I wanted to avoid more than anything. Three days wasn't long enough, and I genuinely considered asking Alex if they wanted a roommate. But their jeep was already speeding down the road, so I had no choice but to enter the pawn shop and descend the familiar steps.

"You're back!" yelped Hughie as he rushed forward and wrapped his arms around me. I stumbled back before gaining my balance and returning the hug. "Yeah," I replied lamely.

I nodded to Frenchie and MM before they both turned to Hughie. "You ready?" MM asked, and Hughie replied that he was.

"D'accord, let's go," Frenchie said, and the three of them passed me as they headed upstairs and out of the pawn shop, leaving me alone with Butcher, who stood by the couch.

"Y'alright?"

I ignored his question and headed for the solitude of my room.

"Oi, I'm fuckin' talking to you." Butcher barked, and I heard his boots stomp in my direction. He wrapped a large hand around my arm, spinning me around. "Don't ever fuckin' do that again, ya' hear? You 'bout did me fuckin' head in, running off like that."

Butcher's face was inches from mine, and his warm breath fanned out across my cheeks and neck, causing goosebumps to flare. "I guess you forgot that I can take care of myself," I muttered bitterly as I wrenched my arm from his grasp and pushed the door open to my bedroom. Much to my dismay, Butcher followed me in.

"What's with the fuckin' attitude?" he demanded, crossing his arms. "You're acting like a right twat."

I whirled around as I threw my bag onto the floor, my nostrils flaring. "Oh, so you're allowed to have an attitude, but I'm not?" I glared daggers at him. "Get out."

"No. We're gonna talk," Butcher pressed, standing his ground.

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Well, too fuckin' bad, sweetheart. I ain’t leaving until you tell me what kind of stick is up your bum, and why the bloody hell you fucked off for three days without telling anyone."

"It's a free country, and I'm allowed to go where I please," I shot back. "Besides, I figured I'd give you all a break from carrying my dead weight around. I hear it can be quite tiring."

Butcher's mouth opened before he closed it, taking a beat before speaking, "S’that’s what this is about, eh? The fact that I called you dead weight the other night? No offense, love. But if a comment like that was enough to drive ya' out of town, you've gotten too sensitive."

"It wasn't just that one comment, William. It's the fact that you've been terrible to me for weeks now, and the shittiest part of it all is that I have no idea what I've done to deserve it!" I exclaimed, panting slightly as my shoulders rose and fell. Butcher raised a brow, and I scoffed, flopping on the bed. "Forget it. Now, would you mind kindly fucking off and leaving me alone?"

I turned away, and Bucther sighed quietly. A couple of seconds passed before the bed dipped behind me.

"M'sorry, alright?" he said quietly.

"Whatever, I don't even care anymore," I muttered, picking at the skin on the side of my nail.

"Yes, ya’ do."

My stomach flipped as Butcher carefully reached up and brushed the hair off my shoulder. "I didn't realize I was hurting ya' so much. I thought I was doing what was best."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, turning back to face him. A calloused finger traced my cheek before his hand fell limply in his lap. Even though Butcher never slept more than a couple of hours a night, this was the first time I'd seen him look truly tired.

"I needed to push you away, and I figured a bit of tough love would do the trick." Butcher's hazel eyes met mine. "I realize I may've gone a bit too far."

"But why would you want to push me away? I thought we worked well together." My voice grew softer. "I thought you liked me."

"Oh, love, my feelings for you go way beyond like."

My thoughts became jumbled as I tried to comprehend what Butcher was saying, and I struggled to form a response, but it all ceased when he cupped my face in his hand. I instinctually leaned into his touch, and my eyes drooped, feeling serenity from the simple contact.

"M'sorry. M'so fucking sorry," Butcher apologized again. But this time, I saw emotion in his eyes. "You're the most precious thing in my life, and the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt ya'."

His lips gently grazed my forehead, placing a soft kiss there before continuing. “I'm no good for ya', doll. God only knows I'd fuck up an angel like you. In me own messed up head, pushing you away was the only way I could protect ya'."

"That's not true," I whispered, shaking my head, but Butcher didn't look convinced. "And even if it were true, I wouldn't care because I'm no saint either."

It was quiet between us, and our breaths were the only thing filling the small space. My gaze roamed Butcher's face before it fell on his lips, and I swallowed audibly.

"I want you, Billy."

Butcher looked torn. There was a deep crease between his brows, and his breathing grew quick as the seconds ticked by.

"I'll ruin you." His voice was rough, full of gravel.

"I'm already ruined."

Butcher's resolve began to fray before it split wide open, and his lips crashed into mine.

༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻

not my best work, but i hope you enjoyed it!

-xoxo

[jaegerbby]

➳ triggered

--͙[ken ryuguji x female! reader]-͙-

╰┈➤ word count; 12,944

╰┈➤ rundown; in all the years you've known draken, he has only loved one girl but that doesn't mean he'll let you be with someone else.

╰┈➤ caution; TOXIC DYNAMIC. possessive! toxic! draken, dubcon/coercion, fwb to something more?, parental character death, tw/emma (lol), manhandling, emotional manipulation, abusive undertones, threats with a gun, mentions of suicide, slight mitsuya x reader, alcohol mentioned, face fucking, oral sex (m&f), unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, cervix fucking, belly bulge mentioned, baby trapping, impregnation, use of the word slut. draken is a literal head case in this. he gets mad when you call him draken (as he should?)

not proof read !

you almost drop your phone when the nurse tells you about your mother's condition. "ma'am, are you there?" your lips tremble, a hum leaving you because you do not trust yourself enough to speak.

"she's in room 34, level 12. you'll be further informed when you arrive." you swallow hard, feeling your chest tighten. "thank you." it is all you can manage to say before you end the call.

your relationship with your mother is strained to say the least but the thought of her bleeding out all alone makes you sick. the last memory she has of you is bitter words.

you hurriedly pull on jeans and a shirt draken left. his scent is enough to comfort you. you dial his number while running down the stairs of your apartment complex.

the cold air meets your skin and it seems all your impulsive actions are foolish.

"ken!" you are too emotional and you need him here. you can hardly keep yourself sane, every thought in your head is blaming you. you are not the best person, you know that but did you deserve something so cruel?

"what's wrong?" the sound of his deep voice alone, makes you relax. you grip the fabric of your his shirt. "my mom is in the hospital." your words come out in a flurry, jumbled and confusing.

you cannot quell the panic that fills you.

"hey, calm down." it is soothing, draken always knows what you need.

"breathe." you take deep breaths as he guides you, clutching your chest and nodding though he is not here to see. "now, tell me what happened. i'll come."

somehow, you feel lighter, "my mom's in the hospital... can you take me?"

"give me five. don't worry, okay?" you hum shakily as you slump on a bench and bury your face in your hands.

you sit there, cold and tired. you wish you could let yourself be consumed by sleep and this would be a bad dream.

that in the morning you would not have this guilt weighing on your shoulders.

the words 'five minutes' spiral in your thoughts because it certainly felt like hours. you fidget before messaging him. one after the next, asking where he is, if he is coming, why he lied.

though, it is left unanswered. he does not reply much less open it. your lips tremble, squeezing your fists so tightly you almost break skin.

you do not want to cry but it is all getting to you. as much as you fight it, you break.

loudly sobbing, roughly drying your face but it is coated with fresh tears a second after.

you keep telling yourself that he will come. you conjure up some stupid excuse for him because he never does it himself. it is times like this where you wonder if anything he said was genuine.

you need him here and he let you down. you should have expected it, he did it before. for someone who was more important that you, who would always be more important than you.

"yn?" you are sure you look horrible with blood shot eyes and messy hair. you are not able to move, simply staring as mitsuya parks his bike.

he is so kind, you do not deserve it. he hurriedly steps towards you, his eyes softening when a fresh stream of tears slip down your face.

"are you okay?" he tugs off his jacket, wrapping it around you before he kneels down and grips your hands. he immediately rubs them with his.

he tries to make you warm but all you feel is cold.

you should not ask, you are hurt enough but it is on the tip of your tongue.

it slips.

"where's ken?" you mumble when he guides you to stand. your eyes staring up at him, wide and tear filled.

"draken? he's with emma," it hits you like a freight train and it hurts more because you knew. you got the answer you were expecting but your chest still aches.

mitsuya's large palms cup your cheeks, swiping at the tears. his face coated in worry, "why are you crying?"

"my mom's in the hospital. can you take me? please." you are cut off when he tugs you against him. gentle as he strokes your hair and tries to ease your pain.

you sob into his chest, every part of you feels broken. your fists tangling in the fabric of his t-shirt and you press against him more. it should be draken.

you hate how desperately you wish he was holding you instead.

"i will, don't cry." he mutters into your hair, squeezing you before he lets you go. his fingers lace with yours as he guides you to his bike.

your head is filled with tumultuous excuses, anything to make you believe ken has a good reason.

he does not, he never did. not a word leaves you as mitsuya drives. even though your hands grip his clothes, desperately searching for something to keep yourself afloat.

when you are at the hospital, you feel like you are out of your body.

"i'll wait for you outside," mitsuya says, releasing your shoulders, having taken you to the room. the sight of your mother laying in bed unconscious, countless tubes and machines connected to her.

you fall to your knees, begging, pleading for her to get up. she is all you have left and you hardly see her.

you grasp her hand, you were seldom given that opportunity before. she is as cold as it is outside, maybe the weather was preparing you to feel her skin.

she is as cold as she acted to you your whole life and yet you cry for her to wake up. scream that she would at least open her eyes and tell you to stop your whining. she does not.

your heart breaks for the second time that night.

---

ken <3: come over

yn: not in the mood rn

ken <3: i just want you here

you thought he would at least apologise but when has draken ever?

he does not acknowledge it, he moves on like you mean nothing. like your feelings are none of his concern.

you were friends before this.

all this arrangement showed was how little he valued you. you know he loves emma and you know he is just fucking you. he would never feel more. not when it comes to you

you always see the hearts in his eyes whenever emma comes around, sometimes you wish he would look at you that way. others, you wish you never got involved with him in the first place.

it is so easy to be swayed when it comes to him. it is almost embarrassing how easily he can get you to give in.

you tell yourself you will leave the sorrow for the morning and you find yourself at his apartment.

you hate the way he smiles when he opens the door for you.

you hate how good he looks in that stupid tank top that is fitted to his body like a second skin.

you hate how he wraps you in his arms and presses a kiss to your cheek like he did not break your heart just last week.

you shrug him off, pulling the thin jacket from your shoulders and sitting on the couch.

"why'd you cook so much?" you mutter, watching him huff as he drops down next to you. you wish you could move away because he is too close.

he is in your space. his thigh is against yours. when it comes to draken, you are too weak and you have long known it would be your downfall.

"i know you haven't been eating." he scoops some of the rice and lifts the spoon to your mouth. you wish your heart did not flutter, that he was not able to break you down and build you up with such little fanfare.

you let him feed you, silently hurting at his smile. how it reveals his sharp k9s and that stupid chip in his front tooth that he got when you were kids play fighting.

you reach for the bowl and draken's expression falters. he swallows before running a hand through his dark hair. all he does is watch you eat, he tries to make conversation but your answers are brief. you wish he tried harder, that he tried when you needed him.

there is no excuse to give when you are finished eating. you are about to stand when draken stops you.

your body still responds to his touch, jitters wash over your skin. he always has some effect on you.

"you've been avoiding me. you know i don't like that," he is annoyed, it is eerie how calm he is physically when his voice sounds so threatening.

he does not have any right to be mad at you. your face sets in a scowl, "well, i don't like being lied to." you should not provoke him and from the way his jaw clenches, you can tell you are treading on dangerous territory.

"what?" his head tilts. you did not want to fight with him, you never fought with him for years.

there are so many things you let him get away with but it was never this deep. it never hurt you this badly. you have gone too far to stop now.

"you lied to me," you should have been done with him from that night on but when have you ever been able to leave draken alone? you are upset yet you are here, in his apartment looking him dead in his eyes and for the first time he looks angry with you.

"it's been a week, why are you still mad?" he has never looked at you with such an expression before. not with such narrow eyes or such a piercing glare.

"because you told me you'd come! you said you'd be there." your body feels hot with anger as you stand. "you said not to worry. well guess what, my mom isn't here anymore. you were right, one less thing to worry about."

your blood is boiling. for the first time his presence does not calm your nerves. instead, the longer you stare at him, the more infuriated you feel.

"don't blame me, you never got along with her when she was around. i didn't cause that." his lips pull back, he roughly grips your arm as he leans down to level your gaze.

"it's my fault because i waited for you. you always disappoint me but i waited for you." your finger presses into his chest. it is accusatory because the one behind your broken heart is at the end of your nail.

"you're being dramatic." he scoffs, tongue in his cheek while he looks away from you.

"am i? you're the one who said you'd come for me but what happened?" you shove at his shoulder when he rolls his eyes and remains silent. "what happened, draken?" the glare he sends you is deadly.

"did emma call? did you forget all about me the second she called your name? did you run to her when i'm the one that needed you?"

he breathes hard, you swear you see steam coming from him. he grips your upper arms and roughly shakes you.

"yes, you fucking know that so why do you keep asking?" he says it despite all the years you have known each other, regardless of any moment you have together. like all of it is insignificant.

it stuns you for a minute. you knew, yet it still makes your heart ache to hear him say it. you lose your composure entirely for that minute.

he loves emma and you are just a girl he fucks on the side. draken does not care for you any more than he needs to, emma is always going to be his priority.

you did not hold a candle to her flame. no matter how much you dream about it, you do not think you ever would. you grit your teeth, pushing his arms away and stumbling back.

"don't look at me like that," he sighs. his hands swipe over his face before they settle in his hair and he grips at the roots. he is incredibly conflicted, it is typical for him to draw you into his arms when that expression is on your face. though he has never been the reason behind it before.

your ears feel like they are ringing, you are struggling to hold back the tears that fill your eyes. you hate him, you wish you did. hating him is momentary, it is fleeting. your hate never lasts.

"you're a fucking asshole and i hate you." all you both want from this moment is to hurt each other.

"yeah right. say that the next time you're sucking my dick." he sneers. your eyes flicker, face contorting in disgust.

you feel sick. you wonder why you are still here. you truly do not want to throw away all those years you spent by his side. but what good is there fighting for something that can never be?

you hurriedly gather your things with one fleeting glance over his living room.

you swear this is the last time you will be here.

maybe one last grace is what you need to get over him.

draken breathes heavily, holding your wrist as he tries to bring you into his arms. for the first time you fight it, that is all it would take to break your resolve.

"fuck off!" he stares at you in shock. those pretty eyes are blow wide, you never shout at him. "God knows what was going through my mind when i agree to fuck someone like you."

you shove at his chest but it does not move him in the slightest. all it does is relight his anger.

he nears you despite how many times you try to distance yourself. "i don't need you. you think it would make a difference if you left?" cause at the end of it, you know emma is the only one that matters to him.

every word is clear, he enunciates it all because he wants you to be in pain, he wants you to go home and cry over him like you always do.

your whole body tenses, teeth grinding together because you can practically feel the ache in your chest grow more intense. you can feel your heart tear apart. why do you always get hurt in the end?

"fuck you, draken." that is the last thing you say, maybe it is synonymous for 'it's over' but you have never truly been done with him.

you push past him and it is only so easy because he lets you. he lets you leave, you wish he would stop you. you are stupidly hoping he will pull you back to him and tell you he is sorry.

unbeknownst to him the tears are already falling down your cheeks as you storm out of his apartment and slam the door. it feels like you are suffocating, like a second longer in that hell hole would asphyxiate you to death.

you cannot stand the thought of being around him right now yet you know if he apologises you will fall back into his arms.

you feel like throwing up all the food you ate. you feel like he ripped your heart from your chest and tore it to pieces. you flinch at the sound of him cussing, broken glass and stomping emanate from behind the door.

the closer it gets, the more your heart aches. you do not want to see him, you do not think you can handle being near him right now.

your breath shakes as you turn on your heel and run towards the staircase. you desperately needed to be anywhere but here.

--

you stare at the door while your heart is in your throat.

"baby, open up." he bangs on it and you sit curled up on the couch wondering if seeing him is worth the pain that will follow.

tears stream down your face when you shut your eyes. "are you seriously not going to let me in?" he raises his voice, roughly twisting the knob and sucking his teeth. he huffs in exasperation.

"i'm sorry, okay? i'm sorry, just open the fucking door." draken speaks lowly. he does not want to alert the people in your apartment complex.

you are stupid.

for him at least because you do as he says.

you barely turn the lock and he forces it open. you see him and all you remember are the things he said last night.

"fuck, how much did you cry?" his thumb strokes beneath your swollen eyes.

you shove his hand away, "why are you here?"

"c'mon, baby, don't be like that." he always ruins you like this. when you try to get away all he does is bring you back.

and you go.

you go because draken fills your heart and no one compares to him. you have known him for far too long to ever let go.

his large palm cups your waist to guide you a few steps back and he shuts the door. he tugs his jacket off, placing it on the hook like that is his designated place.

like he belongs here.

"i wanted to see you." he draws closer. "i needed to see my girl." the tears come again. perhaps they never ceased. you are not his girl. not when he already has one.

"you've seen me, you can get out now." you should know better.

but you do not know when to leave and draken does not know when to let go. he tugs you in.

you hate to be near him as much as you love it. he holds you flush against him, tilting your head back to keep you looking at him. he is horrible. "you get so mad over nothing." you wish you could hate him.

despite you struggling against him, he is unmoved. just like he always is.

"you're so pretty." his plush lips spread in a heart quickening smile. your fingers tighten in the fabric of his shirt, hoping and wishing him away although you are unable to push him back.

"stop imagining emma." he looks almost irritated when you say it.

"don't be stupid." he has to bend down to press his lips to yours. they are soft, like cotton candy fluff. it takes everything in you to not reciprocate as he kisses you without relent. though you are not responsive he sucks down on your bottom lip, nipping the flesh as he pulls away.

"you don't want to kiss me anymore?"

you shake your head and hurt crosses his face. his jaw clenches but desperation is written in his eyes.

"i want you to leave, draken." he flinches, a scowl on his face but he lets you go and you stumble back.

"i make you a little mad and suddenly i'm draken to you?"

"you don't get it, this is done. whatever this was."

he comes closer, at least he tries to. when you back away he seems stunned. "no it's not." you wish he did not know it so well that you are a fool for him.

"baby, what do you want to hear?" he grips your wrists to pull you in again.

"draken, it's done. i'm done, okay? i'm tired." you sob. you want to press your face to his chest and weep your pain away but he is the cause. he is the reason for it all but he is the only one you want comfort from.

"if you're tired, let's sleep. we're not done." he brings you to his chest, presses wet kisses to your cheek like he is not breaking you. "you want me to say sorry? i'm sorry. see, it's better now."

"it's not. just leave. gosh, just get out, draken." you shove at his chest but you swear a part of you dies when he lets you go.

"you want me to get out? fine. when you're done throwing this stupid tantrum and you come running back, i won't listen." his face is covered with anger.

he turns his back, the further he walks away, the more suffocated you feel.

he hears you crying.

it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

it is gut wrenching and heart shattering.

whether you see it or not, draken is crying too.

---

if draken does not hurt someone, he surely is going to break something. he can feel the glass straining under his fingers. he grips it tighter the longer he sees you with mitsuya.

you are here, looking like the prettiest doll in the world and you are not with him.

you are in blue, the dress clings to your perfect body and a ribbon is laced around your ponytail.

you are wearing blue and so is he.

truthfully, you and draken can never get rid of each other.

he sees you sipping on some fruity cocktail because that is all you ever drink. he loves looking at you, he always looks at you but he can see mitsuya too.

he can see how he leans closer to you, how his smile only grows wider when you laugh at something he says. he can see mitsuya draping his arm around your seat and being so attentive when draken knows he is the only one that should be around you.

why are you letting mitsuya so close to you? you were with draken for a long time, he was the only one right?

he only fumes more when mikey, emma and just about everyone around him agrees that you and mitsuya would make a good couple.

he sees red.

your eyes flicker to draken despite your attempts to ignore him. his hair is draped to a little below his shoulders, his shirt is fitted and from here you can see the rings on his fingers.

you see all those things, you see ripped jeans and black boots. you see emma practically sitting on his lap. you do not care.

you do.

you came to the conclusion that he is not willing to put her in danger.

but he is willing to be a danger to you and your heart.

"is it okay if i touch you?" mitsuya's hand hovers over your waist. you nod while sipping your drink. "you can say no." he quickly follows.

"i don't mind."

he sends you a smile and his hand softly caresses your waist.

"are you doing better? if you need to talk, i'm here for you." he is sweet, he has always been. mitsuya has never been a bad friend to you.

"thanks." you down the rest of your drink before turning to face him. "i'll be fine someday." your head screams at you for lying. draken is here and he is not with you. he is with someone else.

he has always been with someone else.

"i know things have been hard since." he pauses, his hand grasps yours. "since everything but i'd still like to see you. you can still come around like you used to."

his palms are so soft, draken's are not. draken's hands have callouses, they are rough and for some reason they feel like they were meant to touch you.

you consider mitsuya, he is your friend. your eyes glimpse over his features. his thumb strokes your hand and you have just begun to appreciate the feeling of someone other than draken when it is ripped away.

the one holding your wrist feels right even though it hurts.

draken towers above you, he sends mitsuya a stony look before he pulls you up and his hand squeezes your waist.

like he wants to overwrite any other person. like he needs to reclaim the places that are only meant for him and not for another man to touch.

you melt. you thaw like ice and turn into liquid. draken pulls you alongside him and you follow.

you have to take quick steps because his are much larger than yours.

once you are outside of the club, the silence is a stark contrast to the loud music. draken breathes heavily, brushing his hair back.

"were you fucking him?" you flinch when the words come out. that was the last thing you expect him to say.

"i'm not dealing with this, draken." you shake your head but he grips your waist. he holds your body and gathers you in his arms like he always does.

"stop treating me like a stranger." his voice strains. "tell me if you were fucking him on the side."

"you're terrible." tears prick your eyes. he has the audacity to accuse you when he has never been yours. he never gave himself to you.

"you did? was he your back up if i ever stepped out?" his fingers squeeze hard enough to bruise. "i never stepped out on you, not once."

"no, draken. i'm not like you." he is destroying you. whether he knows it or not. you are sure he knows it though because draken knows you better than anyone else.

"then why were you with him, why did you let him touch you?" you try to push him away, you really do. all you want is to lay in his arms and all he does is argue with you.

"who are you to ask me that? we're done, remember?" he grits his teeth, burying his head into your neck. draken breathes in your scent and lets it intoxicate him. you intoxicate him.

"we're never going to be over, baby. not you and me." he kisses at your exposed skin. it makes you want to cry more than you already are.

"you have emma." your voice trembles. you tremble. you feel like you are a tower of cards and you are about to collapse entirely.

draken leans back to meet your eyes, his gaze trails over the tears in your pretty eyes and the pout on your lips. his nose nudges yours and then he kisses you.

he kisses you and you feel him everywhere, all at once. you feel him in his palms gliding down your body. you feel him where his tongue claims your mouth all over again. in the spit that is messily exchanged as he sloppily kisses you.

you feel your blood growing hot enough to warm you completely. he pulls away to repeatedly peck your cheek.

"let me go." you brokenly whisper.

"we're going home, okay? i'm taking you home cause you're my girl."

---

when draken gets you into his apartment, he pulls you flush against him. his hands coax over every curve of your body. "i missed you," his nose nuzzles your cheek and you tense under his touch.

it is difficult to be mad at him and being this close is only breaking your resolve further. you push at his chest but all he does is tighten his hold until you can feel the hard, defined muscle of his abdomen.

he is too tempting.

he laughs though it is not very amused. his large palms, grip your waist before they drift to the hem of your dress and slip beneath it. "you're all dressed up and it isn't for me."

"it's not like that." you cannot protest much because draken grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. the angle he tilts your head at is incredibly uncomfortable.

"it is, you got this pretty for him." your eyes roll, an annoyed noise leaving you. it did not make sense to dispute it, not when he already came to some conclusion in his head.

his hands cup your face, the thick of his thumb swiping over your lips, smearing the lipstick. "your makeup looks so pretty." his tone of his voice is indecipherable. you cannot seem to understand him these days. you barely have the will to try.

draken cannot stand the idea of you thinking about another man. it does not sit right with him that you got this pretty and went out with someone else.

draken does not need you to do all this for his eyes to be on you. he leans closer and you do not resist, you cannot.

not when his hooded eyes meet yours and your lips brush together. you need affection, his affection. you can not deny that no matter how hard you try to.

his tongue slips out to wet his lips before he tilts his head and kisses you. it is rough, it is desperate, it does not make sense. why does he kiss you like this when he does not love you at all?

he hums into your mouth, tongue slipping inside to brush over everywhere he has already been. places he always comes back to.

your hands bunch his shirt, eyes squeezing shut because you regret it but you still kiss him with the same burning need.

you pull away breathless, turning from him because it is obvious you are not done like you said you were.

"fuck," draken rasps, leaning in again to suck at your bottom lip. his cock pulses at the way you whine. he wipes at the saliva with his thumb before pressing it against your tongue.

"wanna fuck your mouth." you swallow hard, eyes fluttering. you should not, you know you should not but just this? you just need this much and you will leave.

"gonna be a good baby and let me?" the depth of his voice makes a shiver travel down your spine. how can you refuse when he talks like that?

draken never needs much to sway you, regardless of how stubborn you act. you grip his wrist, pushing it away and he is about to grab you right back when your smaller palms trail down his chest.

the corners of his mouth pull up, "there's my girl." it is drawn out and all too smug. his tongue swipes over his teeth like he finally got what he was waiting for.

your fingers dip into the rivets of his chest and abs. he is all hard muscle where you are soft. you slowly situate yourself on your knees, your hands resting on his thighs.

you are eye level with his erection that was straining in his pants since the moment he laid his eyes on you. he is still smiling, he missed the sight of you between his legs.

each and every time he got to see you look up at him like this, it plagued his mind. you keep watching as his dexterous fingers flex, unbuckling his belt and undoing his zip.

"fuck," his hands fidget, his whole body seems to be vibrating. he tugs his shirt up, his deep v-line framed by the waistband of his boxers is revealed to you.

"did you miss it?" he stares at you the second he pushes down his pants enough to let his cock out. it looks painfully hard. it is slightly curved, just the sight of it makes your insides ache.

he is too big.

draken is bordering on perfect. maybe that is why he is such an asshole. your finger swipes over his slit, pre oozing in thick droplets. your eyes trail from the swollen brownish head to the veins that trailed along the underside.

"i did." your confession comes out breathy, thighs clenching together almost on instinct. he hums, holding his length at the base, breath hitching at the sudden contact.

he presses the tip to your lips, the glossy finish of his pre looks better on you than that stupid lipstick. "open," he sighs quietly, focused on the sticky strands of your spit and the way your tongue squirms under the weight of his cock.

"fuck." his lip pulls back in a grin, he is pretty, especially when he has that expression on his face. your mouth encloses the bulbous part, your slick muscle laves around his slit and a low moan reverberates through ken's chest.

your mouth is too warm, too wet. it feels too good around him. the silky walls of your cheeks and the way your tongue always seems to be heated. how could you expect him to not be addicted?

you pull off, saliva dripping down his length and staining your face. you always got so messy, draken's jaw slackens when you run your tongue along his length before taking him back into the wet haven of your mouth.

you sink down on him and tears prick at your eyes because it is so much. your hand grips what you cannot fit before removing your mouth with a sniffle.

he is in awe at how little your hand always looks when it is grasping him. how much softer it is than his, how it struggles to wrap around him properly.

you jerk up and down his length, swallowing hard. there is an excessive amount of saliva in your mouth. you look up at him and he cups your face. your lips come around his cock, gradually hollowing your cheeks to take him more. the salty taste of his pre is in your mouth, somehow you missed it.

half of his cock is within the confines of your mouth and it seems draken was waiting until you could not retort.

"i hope you can still take me... or maybe you got used to less." his jaw locks, the thought of mitsuya getting his claws into you makes ken sick. your eyes flick up to his, streams of tears down your face. your lipstick all smeared.

ken wants it stained around the base of his cock if he is honest.

maybe then you would know it is only for him. his hand tangles into your hair, gripping the roots as a deep groan escapes him. he watches his length disappear past your lips, the walls of your throat fluttering around him, pulsing.

all the muscles squeezing his length make his hips stutter. perspiration coats his skin and his adam's apple bobs with each of his gasps as he sinks more of his cock past your lips.

it takes a while before your cute nose is pressed to his abdomen, nuzzling the short hair. he sighs, the silky walls of your tight throat are wrapped around him like it is only his to claim.

he lets you get used to it, holding you to his base whilst your tongue wriggles beneath his cock and the heat of your mouth covers him entirely. your hands tightly grip the fabric at his thighs, eyes fluttering continuously before they finally stare up at him.

almost like you are waiting for him to use you. he thinks your eyes should not look that wide nor that innocent.

maybe it is because they never changed even as you have grown. as long as draken has known you, you have never had anyone. he wants to be your someone.

his free hand wraps around your neck, there is a prominent bulge from his member and the feel of it beneath his fingers makes him shiver.

"bet you like having me in your throat like this." he practically whines. "fuck, m'agine you're choking on my dick like a slut." he anchors his hand in your hair before he slowly thrusts. he thinks the way your shoulders tense is too cute.

low moans leave him, he grows louder as his speed increases. he cannot leave you alone, not even if he wanted to.

he does not want to.

his head tilts back, he can feel your muscles moving along him, he can feel your tongue trembling at the underside.

your mouth is so slick with him it is easy to glide his length in and out of you. his abs strain, the veins on his abdomen appearing more. there is an impeding feeling inside him.

wet sounds fill the room as he fucks your mouth, the way he dreamed of during those days without you. he wants this back so badly.

he wants you.

tears freely coat your dewy skin. his thumb rubs at your neck, the bulge forming with each thrust pulses under his digit.

"does it hurt, baby? oh, fuck, getting your pretty throat rawed like this." you feel so, so good. the way you feel on him is inconceivable and indescribable. ken wants this forever.

his grip on your hair tightens as more pre cum is spewed into the back of your throat. he humps at your mouth, he cannot do without this, he cannot do without you.

draken's teeth grind, his breathing stuttering, the evident rise of his chest growing laboured all because he is using you. your lips look like they are straining, he can feel your breaths on him. the weight of your fist tugging his pants and pressing against him. he can definitely feel the need to cum approaching quicker than usual.

he is sure it will help with the soreness of your throat right now. ken wants to give you his cum and claim your mouth again.

"only thing you're swallowing is my dick and my cum" he hates the thought of it being anyone else. his head leans back, jaw dropped to moan.

he feels like he is losing his senses, he feels you all over him. his cock throbs in your mouth, slipping in and out of the perimeter of your slicked lips. "such a good fucking girl, feel so good." he bites down on his lip before hot air puffs from his mouth, his chest and shoulders tense.

draken's deep voice is cut by groans. he is there, he is so close. the warm wetness of your mouth, the drool leaking down your jaw, the tight grip of your throat stroking his length. he cannot take it much more.

he shoves himself completely into you, gripping your hair and caressing your face. he feels the muscles squeezing down on him because he is not supposed to be there.

he wipes the tears on your cheeks but it does not make a difference when everything is so messy. draken's hips stutter, his balls coated in saliva are leaning on your jaw.

you are too good. you are perfect.

his cock throbs, he is breathless and panting as his back tenses and an onslaught of cum is poured into your eager throat. there is so much it spews out of your mouth as you try your hardest to swallow it all.

"you're so good to me, baby." you take him so well, you always do.

he feels you swallowing the salty semen, he stills for a moment. the way your throat clenches on him is otherworldly. a tandem of curses leave him before he pulls you back by your hair and his cock slips from your tight throat.

it is obscene, how the mixture of cum and spit drips from your mouth and the sticky strands remain webbed to his cock. "holy fuck." he leans your head back, admiring the dazed look in your eyes.

he is panting, barely maintaining his composure. "you're so nasty, such a pretty cock slut, huh?" his lip tilts up as he says it. you only get like this for him.

his large palms reach down to lace his fingers with yours as he lifts you. his eyes glaze over your swollen lips and the tear streaks staining your cheeks.

he is quick to press his body onto yours and kiss you. it is way too sweet, especially since his taste is still tainting your mouth. he moans, tightly wrapping you in his arms as he kisses you harder.

his teeth hit yours and ken is pushing more into you. a deep hum reverberates through him as his tongue glides along yours. it has more wetness coating between your thighs. you wondered why he fit so perfectly with you when he was not made for you.

"don't show anyone else this pretty face, it's only for me." he huffs barely an inch away. he will not let you get on your knees for another man. not as long as he is alive.

his frivolous fingers grope your ass, tugging the fabric of your dress up. the roughness of his finger tips press against the wetness your pussy has leaked into your panties. his greedy touches are accompanied by wet kisses to your cheeks.

you wish you could resist him and you try, you really do. "draken, enough." your voice is weak and distant, you hold his wrists but you do not do anything to stop him. you want to distance yourself from him. you want to end this, right?

a scowl pulls over kens features, "don't call me that like you weren't just sucking my dick." nothing you do can get you away from him. draken is truly unshakeable even as you push at his built chest.

"i want to go home," you huff, shoving at him harder but all it does is make him grip you until you are hissing in pain. "no." you brows furrow at his refusal.

draken wants you to understand that you are home. he has been dropping signs for you to stay here for years. how dense are you? when will you understand that it is you and him against the world.

"we're either fucking or this is the last time you see me," you stare at him in faux disgust. like the thought of him repulses you because you desperately try to convince yourself of it.

you swallow hard. "i already told you, we're done."

he does not falter, not even a little.

instead he reels you in closer. his harsh touches are gentler now, tracing your cheek and dusting over your lips. his eyes are so intense as he glimpses over your features. he is not holding you to him, not anymore.

you can pull away, you can leave so why don't you? something about draken enamours you until you lose cognisance.

"you don't really want that. you don't want me to go away." his voice is like temptation incarnate. he strokes at your hair, brushing the stray strands back.

perhaps, you are too far gone when it comes to him. he is all you have ever known, how can you leave him now?

he sees your bottom lip tremble at the thought and he is pulling you into his embrace. he tucks you under his chin, right against his heart. "it's okay." you cannot think much when all you can smell and feel is him. when you can still taste him on your tongue. "sleep with me and your ken won't ever leave."

he does not need a verbal response because the empty look in your eyes tells all. you are like a ditzy slut but you are his so he is okay with it.

draken scoops you up into his arms. something he usually does. your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt whilst he carries you.

everything about you is doll like, from your features to how easily he can do with you as he pleases. you are engulfed by his scent more, if that is even possible. he situates you on his sheets, where you have spent too many nights to count.

you stare at him with wide glassy eyes. what is it that you wanted to say? no? you wanted to say no.

you wanted to be done and you wanted him to leave you alone but the thought makes you nauseous. it makes your heart ache and your ears ring. you cannot fathom being without him.

when his large frame leans down to kiss you gently. when he is cupping your face and tilting your head to deepen it. you cannot say no, not when he is doing all the things you dreamed of.

he is so much bigger than you, in every way. his palms are large and he is covered in muscle. he is tall and intimidating.

he could hurt you. instead his touch coaxes over your waist before he laces his fingers with yours.

"you're so fucking gorgeous." he muses. draken straightens up, looking down at you nestled in his sheets. it is where you belong.

he thinks you look like an angel, one that is fresh out of heaven. your eyes do not leave him as he reaches for the hem of his shirt and swiftly tugs it over his head.

he flashes you a grin, his body flexing beneath your heavy gaze. you are admiring the scars on his skin, the sharpness of his abs and the definition of his biceps. why is he so perfect? why does he always look so stunning?

"like it?" you nod your head as he slips his thumbs into the rivets of his v line and tugs his jeans and boxers down.

he is bare when his knee digs into the mattress and he leans over you. "yeah? you like me?" his hand pets your hair, like you are a dumb puppy begging for praise. your cunts leaking from everything he does, you can feel the liquid dripping from your slit to your ass. "you love me. you do" draken groans.

you nod so eagerly, your throat feels constricted, you are so overwhelmed. everything he says is true. everything he does makes you want him more, love him more.

his strong arms wrap around you, the touch of his fingers on your spine makes you arch up. he is finally unzipping your dress after craving to do it for so long. he kisses your mouth softly, trailing down your neck and continuing over every inch of skin that is revealed as he tugs the fabric down.

draken settles on his knees, his hot breath hitting your breasts and wet, open mouthed kisses are left down your stomach. he huffs, his nose digging into your flesh as his hot tongue slips out. it presses into your abdomen, just above your cunt.

you grip the sheets, the sharpness of his dark eyes meet yours as the length of his tongue trails over your tummy.

there is so much tension in the air it is almost suffocating, you find yourself wishing his tongue was inside you already.

he leans back, thumbs hooking into your panties and stripping you bare of all your clothes. the slick between your legs is sticky to your panties, so soaked they are peeled away.

you swallow hard as draken's hands cup the back of your knees and spread you open for him.

"you have the prettiest cunt, i swear." he whistles. his eyes grow darker the longer he stares. he is entranced by how easy you are to wind up. "all you did was suck some cock and you're dripping." there is a hum deep in his chest.

you are left staring up at him dumbly as he admires you. you cannot formulate a coherent thought aside from him. he is the only thing in your head. your ken.

your body feels unbelievably warm, inside and out with all his fleeting touches. he leans down, your thighs propped on his shoulders as he gets closer to your slick cunt.

you feel like you are intoxicated somehow. maybe it is the alcohol but you only feel this high when he is the one touching you.

his middle and ring finger glide over your sopping entrance. a whine escapes you, fingers tightening in his sheets as he slips one of the lengthy digits inside you. he does not stop, not at all. it is relentlessly pressed all the way to his knuckle.

even as you whimper, even though your walls pulse around him. his eyes do not leave yours when the length of his tongue slips out. a thick glob of saliva slipping from the tip to your already messy cunt.

the pinkness of his lips enclose around your stiff clit. his tongue gliding along it as he sucks and the other coated finger is forcing its way inside.

he needs to stretch you out and fast. he needs you ready to take him. "ken!" it is high pitched, bordering on a whine. you grip his hair. you are already panting, already wanting more.

draken's free hand glides from your hip to grip your waist. he moans into your pussy, the vibration travelling through your entire being. his fingers pump into you with messy sounds. it is like you are sucking them in, as if you do not want to let him go.

wet squelches echo through the room, slick leaks from you and stains his digits.

"there's my girl, keep saying ken." his tongue prods your stilted bundle of nerves, sucking on it like he has done before.

he knows your body like the back of his hand. knows that every curl of his fingers within your dripping cunt has your hips stuttering and your back arching up.

he knows that his mouth on your clit makes your eyes water and your jaw hang open. knows that those moans are because he is hitting so deep inside, you cannot control yourself.

you are breathless when his fingers slip out and his mouth encloses your dripping slit. his tongue is pushed in entirely. you are squealing at the wet muscle that wriggles along your walls.

draken's eyes roll back at the taste of your cunt and he moans. he went without it, without you for too long. he does not think he can do it again.

he will not let himself be without you for that long ever again.

you cry his name, fingers gripping his hair for some semblance of self control. the tighter you hold, the harder he sucks on you.

draken feels like he could spend forever between your legs. like he could die happy if the last thing he tasted was you. his mouth has you drooling and cross eyed. it has your thighs trembling and you bite your lips so much they are raw.

ken is the only one who gets you like this, he is the only one who will ever get the opportunity. "feels good. so good. s'deep." you babble on and on and ken thinks it is the cutest.

he is lapping at your cunt like a man who is deprived of water. honestly, he is and he is upset with you. of course he is.

who did you think you were staying away from him?

he pulls back, slick coating his lips and covering his tongue. "wanna cum." you mewl and his brows raise. his fingers slip right back inside you, all at once. he does not miss a beat as he fucks them into you. "think you deserve it? you haven't been nice, babe." he presses his face to your plush thigh.

gazing up at your expression, you already look like you are fucked dumb. "m'sorry, sorry, ken. i'm sorry." you whimper, dainty fingers reaching for his hand to hold it.

you are such a baby.

what did you get by acting like this aside from making him obsessed with you?

it is such an adorable apology but you spent days away from him. he could hardly function, why did you think it was okay to do that to him? he is catching tears in your eyes, like crystals that are priceless. he sees your snotty nose and pouted lips.

he truly cannot let go of you.

his fingers quicken and your head hits the sheets, leaning back as your hips rock. "close, baby?" your head bobs quickly, "so closeee." your voice is all drawled and heavy with desire.

his mouth covers your cunt again, still fucking into you as your entire body heats up. your stomach feels like there are a million knots within it.

you are crying out his name so adorably, ken cannot help but grin a bit while he is making out with your pussy. your hand squeezes his, nails nicking his skin as you rock your hips against his face. the burning in your abdomen intensifies, only growing greater.

your thighs shift closer together but he is there to stop them, your back arches completely off the mattress when you reach that high. your mind feels white hot, vision going blurry because he does not stop even as you cum.

your tongue is practically lolling out as he laps at your cunt and your body vibrates from the feeling. high pitched moans fill the room all breathy and desperate.

your chest heaves, gripping ken's hand as you try to find your bearings. you can feel his breath hit your entrance, he does not make a move from where he is.

"those days you were ignorin' me." he pauses, his fingers dig into your thigh. you can feel him squeezing your hand tightly, it is not as gentle as it started.

"did you let him see you like this?" your eyes flutter, trying your hardest to steady your breathing. "i didn't sleep with him." you mumble, leaning into the softness of the pillows. your body feels exhausted already.

ken roughly pulls away from you, the sudden jolt shocks you but he is over you in a second. his hand grips your jaw, gaze narrowed. "don't lie." his voice is low in warning. it is hard to keep a straight face when cum is covering his lips and dripping down his face. it makes you flustered completely. his eyes stare into yours as though he is attempting to read your soul.

"m'not lying to you, ken." you shove at his chest but all draken does is grip both your wrists to tug your body down the bed.

he has your legs on either side of his waist and his cock's resting on your stomach. he can see where he will reach once he is inside. his hands caress your thighs, trailing to your hips that he grips lightly.

he leans down to claim your lips, your slick rubbing onto you and resting on your tongue. your body feels weak but your arms wrap around his neck and bring him closer. fingers wound in his hair as you kiss him more desperately, more lovingly. you wish he would believe you, when have you ever betrayed him?

his palm slips between your spread legs, prodding your entrance and you pull away from his mouth with a hiss. you are pushing at his forearm but ken does not approve at all, it is evident in his expression.

"ken, wait for a bit..." you are still unbearably sensitive. he does not see it that way, instead his head tilts, eyes so dark they seem black.

"did mitsuya loosen you up for me?" his tone is covered with anger, he feels sick to his stomach. he is being tortured by images of you and him. ken cannot take it, not at all.

your eyes widen at his words, stilling for a moment. "don't talk to me like i'm some slut." there is a frown tugging ken's lips down. you were doing so well, everything was going so well and now he is upset about things that never happened.

"you are, you were fucking him too." he grits out, jaw clenching tightly. the thought makes him want to throw up. it makes him want to hurt mitsuya for ever putting his hands on you.

"i didn't do that, ken. when did you stop trusting me?" your chest heaves, brows furrowed in dismay.

"since you started being a whore." your lip trembles, eyes filling with tears that burn. your throat feels like if you speak you will break down into tears.

you turn your head away from him, sniffles leaving you as you desperately fight tears. they still coat your cheeks like an endless waterfall.

you did not want to break down in front of him, you did not want him to see how easily he makes you cry. it is too late when you are in his room, on his bed with your heart ripped out of your chest and given to him. your body shakes with sobs, squeezing your lids shut.

"why do you always do this to me?" your voice is broken. the second his fingers stroke your face, you wonder why you always give him this power.

why do you let him him make you cry and break you down without consequence? "because i want you here." he breathes, his large palms encasing your breasts and rubbing at your nipples.

he kisses you even as you cry, even as you sob into his mouth but it is okay because you let him slip his tongue inside.

you are still okay with him biting on your bottom lip and kissing you like this. his touch trails down your stomach to your hips.

a sigh leaves him as he reaches for his hard erection, so much pre cum leaking from his swollen tip. he guides the head between your spread folds.

an excessive amount of slick coating him while he drags it along your opening. your pussy seems to miss him as much as you did because your treacherous body is growing hotter.

you both looking at where he breaches you, your breath catches at the thickness of his head is forced into your gummy walls. "real fuckin tight." ken whistles, his abs tenses because he is seconds away from fucking the entire thing into you.

your cunt is like nirvana, your insides squeeze down on him although he barely put the tip in.

"i missed you." he huffs, his fingers dig into the thick flesh of your thighs, his hips slowly surging forward and making you cry. "c'mon open up, relax for me." he thrusts again, your back arches up.

you whimper his name, ken loves the way you say it. his thumb swipes over the barely there lipstick on your mouth before he is pressing it inside.

your spit filled mouth encloses around the digit and ken grins. his eye brows knit together at the slick sound that comes from your pussy gripping him.

your silky walls are pulsing around him uncontrollably. ken wishes he could be inside you forever. he rolls your clit, your cunt gushing over his cock and he only fucks more of himself into you with each thrust.

your hand presses against ken's abdomen but he is so much stronger. he clicks his tongue. "don't try to run from it. y'know you can take it." his voice is so deep it's almost gravelly. your resistance is trembling.

"i can feel your pretty cunt squeezing me, i know you want more" his thumb slips further into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat until you gag. "i know you want to be stuffed full, you missed it, didn't you?" you nod dumbly.

he thinks you look pretty like this, swollen lips and messy hair. filled with cock and sucking on his thumb like you are made for it. you are, you are made for him.

it takes one particularly hard thrust before he is completely inside of you. his entire cock throbs alongs your pulsing walls, your body tenses because you feel so unbearably full.

you whine, you swear he is nudging your cervix. you can feel him in your stomach, you can see where the head of his cock has it bulging. you moan his name and all it does is make ken smile.

his girth stretches you out so much that it burns. you are left with your chest heaving as he pulls your leg onto his shoulder and he holds the other open.

he can see your cunt spread open around him, your pelvis is flush to his, your insides are holding him so tightly he feels like he can barely move.

his hips slam into you, your body jolts and your legs shake. he leans over, lifting you until your ass is off the bed and fucks you the way he was dying to in all the days you were not with him. "baby, baby, you're perfect" he pants. "got the sweetest cunt."

the lengthy locks of ivory hang on either side of his face, he looks too pretty. you are a whimpering, drooling mess beneath his large frame.

you press on the spot that distends your tummy with each pump of his hips. you both sigh at the feeling. ken is looking at where you are taking him between your legs, where his cock slips in and out completely doused in your juices.

you are met with the chain you got him. it hangs in your face and the anklet he got you is right next to his ear. in mockery, in proof, you are not quite sure.

when draken fucks you like this he wonders why it was so difficult for you to accept that you are his.

your fists find the soaked sheets, your body feels hot and sweat coats your skin. you feel like there is cotton in your head. tears stream down your cheeks and traces of saliva are on your lips. you are always so easily lost in him.

your eyes squeeze shut, he is pounding you into the sheets like you are a sex doll. ken is all you can feel, all you can think about. you sigh in contentment. you are hardly coherent.

"ken, you're so big." you mewl, his fingers dig into your skin, his nails pressing against the flesh.

"yeah? you missed me fucking you? missed having my cock deep in this pussy? pretty girl, all you think about is my dick." you whine and his voice is filled with amusement.

growing breathy the longer he is wrapped in your vice walls and covered in your viscous liquid.

he slams his hips to yours, each dragging you along his length. you can feel his skin sticky everywhere you are touching him.

your cream forms a white ring along the base of his cock and leaks down his balls. "messy." he clicks his tongue. your little body looks so precious under him.

you are taking a cock that is way too big for you but you take it so well.

you always do.

you can hardly think when he is shoving so deep inside that you swear he is bruising your cervix. a light clink and the coldness of metal on your forehead has your eyes opening in confusion.

"ken?" he does not stop moving. your body shakes and you writhe from his brutal ministrations. "you scared, baby?" he grins, his hand comes down to rest on your sternum and he leans over you more.

you are not scared, it should worry you that you are not scared in the slightest.

you trust him with your life.

even as he holds a gun to your head you cannot find it in yourself to be afraid of him.

it should worry you even more that the only thing that generates a reaction from you is him pressing the same gun to his temple.

you jerk.

"stop!" you cannot even reach for his hand when he is holding you down like this. you are so insanely confused.

a new influx of tears streaming from your eyes as your pleas fall on deaf ears. you wish he would stop being reckless.

"isn't that cute? now you care." he pauses his hips, your nails dig into his forearm but draken does not flinch.

he accuses you when he is the only thing you care about, the only thing you ever think of.

"i want to you to know, this is what will happen if you leave me again." your lips part in shock, his eyes are dark. so dark.

there is an overwhelming feeling of worry washing over you.

"ken, this is crazy." your voice cracks as you cry.

"is it?" you are painfully away that his cock is throbbing inside you. "it's crazy that you were running around with some other guy."

"i wasn't, i swear i wasn't."

"are you going to leave me, baby? that's all i need to know." his hand leaves your sternum to stroke your cheek. it is so gentle.

your heart feels like it has taken too much pain to work. "you don't want me." it hurts. it hurts but you know it is true.

drakens lips pulled back in a scowl. his expression is unreadable, he is unreadable. you never understand him.

he applies pressure to the trigger and nausea fills your senses. your scream bloody murder because you have to look at him hold a gun to his head but you cannot do anything. he does not allow you.

"promise you won't leave." he says and you cry, pleading endlessly. you cannot handle losing him in any capacity. you cannot lose him at all.

"m'sorry, please don't" your throat feels so tight, it hurts to speak. "i won't leave so please stop!" you hiccup, holding his hand and praying he can see the desperation in your eyes.

"say it again" his eyes grow hooded, like those words falling off your tongue are music to his ears. you only sob harder.

"i won't ever leave you. i promise i won't." you voice is hoarse and wavering. your eyes do not move from the metal barrel aimed at his head.

you are fretting in worry but ken looks glad. he looks delighted even. the flash of his teeth makes you swallow.

"and you love me?" his head tilts. "i do." you whisper. you have never told him that before.

how could you protect your heart if you were professing your love for him? right now it does not seem to matter.

"i love you, ken. always did." your voice is barely audible, you swear the pounding of your heart is louder than it.

"close your eyes." you shake your head, completely confused. you are terrified.

"do it if you love me." tears leak from your eyes because now you do not have a choice. you shake with sobs as you close your eyes.

"good girl, such a good girl. you're always so perfect for me." draken's body covers yours, his nose nuzzling your face and you cry harder when he kisses your skin.

"please, ken, please, please." your arms wrap around him, fingers finding purchase in his skin because you cannot see him.

"are you scared?" you nod your head with a broken whimper.

"please, ken, i love you. i need you." you cannot see the grin that crosses his face but draken is all too pleased.

his mouth meets your ear "i need you too." you feel an ounce of relief and then the shrill of a gun unloading makes you scream.

it is so loud you instantly feel sick. your entire body trembles, your scream aches your throat and shakes everything in the apartment.

your heart feels like it jumped out of your chest and you are expecting blood or a body but instead you hear draken's low laugh and your eyes open.

"don't leave again or it'll be a bullet." it seems he is finally satisfied. he drops the gun to the sheets and you shove it further away.

his palm cups your cheek and brings your attention back to him. he wipes at your tears, cooing at your miserable expression.

"you only have me to love. remember that." you cannot process his words. your chest is heavy, breathing stuttered by panic. still racked with sobs but you are reaching for him.

his large frame is tugged down over you, practically covering you completely. your leg is pressed closer to your chest. he is so warm, you can feel his skin and remind yourself that he is here.

he causes all your troubles yet he is the only person capable of comforting you. "relax." he coos but it only makes you cry harder.

your body trembles against him but all ken has to do is wrap his arms around you and your worries lessen. "please, never again." because you swear your heart will stop beating if he put a gun to his head for a second time.

he pacifies you with sweet caresses along your hair before he pulls back. he smiles when you whimper, drying your cheeks but they are freshly coated with new tears. you are touching at his skin frantically, anything to remind yourself that he is really with you.

"gonna let me fuck you like you deserve? since you were such a good girl." his eyes do not leave yours, he nods his head and you find yourself nodding along with him despite how far gone your mind is.

draken hums, leaning over you as your legs wrap around his toned waist. he smiles, swiping at your tears, pressing the sweetest kiss to your lips before he trails down your neck.

your eyes flutter, breathing finally slowing but a gasp escapes your lips as his mouth encloses your nipple. you swallow hard, thighs tensing around him.

his eyes flick up to yours, face all too smug when his hips begin to rock. his teeth scrape the skin of your nipple, tongue flicking over it as he pulls away.

"like when i play with these cute tits of yours?" you are too flustered, way too dazed and dumb. your head leans away, why does he make you feel like this? his deep voice has your cunt leaking and your heart beating out of your chest.

"don't act shy, your pussy's squeezing me so hard, i know you like it." you do not have a chance to deal with the way his words have settled heat into your bones because his mouth encloses over your throat to leave more marks.

his thrusts are growing faster, rougher and you find yourself melting into a puddle, like dough you become whatever he wants.

you are only capable of moaning his name so prettily that draken's insides grow fuzzy. you are so good, too good. your hand slips into the lengthy strands of his hair.

"ken." you tug him closer, you wonder how much closer he can get than being deep enough to hit your cervix. you want him closer than his lips brushing against yours every time he fucks his hips into yours. you want him closer than the way your nipples are grazing his hard chest.

you want to crawl into his skin and make it your home.

you want him.

you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, your tongue slipping into his mouth when you pull him down. you can feel his blunt nails digging into your skin, he is bruising your waist and hips.

spit coats your mouths like gloss. "ken, i love you, i love you." you never said it to him, regardless of the countless times you thought it when you looked at him.

hearing those words roll off your tongue almost makes draken cum instantly. you are finally able to say it and you want to take advantage of it.

"fuck. you're mine. not mitsuya's, not anyone else's." his cheeks are reddened, the sharpness of his thrusts makes your back arch off the sheets. his chest heaves, the brown of his eyes stare into yours "you're mine."

you nod because it is all you ever wanted. you say yes, you sign yourself over to him entirely. you would do it in this lifetime and every single one that came after.

you cannot think at all, your jaw hanging open, your nails digging into his skin. you can feel the sting against your thighs with every thrust. something about the way he crowds over you, so much bigger, covered in muscle makes your insides hotter.

it makes you burn with want and need. your legs wrap around his waist tighter. feeling ken's hand grip your throat. you want him in every way.

you want him to fuck you like this and kiss you sweetly later. you want draken more than you have ever wanted anything else. and draken wants you like that too.

"you're my girl, my slut," he huffs into your face and the whine that leaves you is atrocious. the feeling he stirs up inside you with just those words is insane.

"maybe if i knocked your pretty ass up, you'd stop acting so stupid" he slams his hips into yours, he thrust so hard that he opens up the inside of your gummy walls every time and hits so deep you lose yourself a little bit more.

all draken can think about is pouring load after load into your leaking hole and giving you his baby. all he wants is to pound inside of you until there is no doubt that you will be swollen with his seed.

"huh? if i gave you a baby to take care of, you wouldn't have time to get mad at me" you mewl, your nails dig into his skin. he leans down to messily kiss you. his spit feels sticky in your mouth, he kisses harder, his cock being fucked into you so roughly your head blanks.

"pussy feels so good inside. you're going to take it right? all for me? going to take my cum and keep it in this cute cunt?" you cry when he pounds particularly hard and you can feel every inch of him.

you bob your head in agreement although you have no clue what he says.

"ken i love you so much." you babble, tears leak down your face.

"yeah? i should give you something then, since you're so good. should stuff this tight little hole with so much cum. you want it, pretty baby?" draken flashes you a grin when you nod. your eyes flutter, he pounds his hips harder and harder.

his movements grow uneven, he groans into your face. pressing soft kisses to your cheeks. he loses himself in the feeling of your vice walls squeezing him.

"you'll make such a pretty mommy." his forehead meets yours, you whimper so adorably when you clamp down and your pretty cunt creams all over him.

even then draken does not give you a moment's rest.

he curses lowly, his hips press flush to yours, only pulling out partially before slamming roughly into you. your body writhes with oversensitivity. you claw at his flesh, crying softly.

when he cums you swear it burns. it paints every inch of your walls and the sticky strands of cum seem never ending. it pools in your cunt and seeps around the perimeter of his thick cock.

he is panting over you, his face buried in your neck and your fingers slip into his hair. you stroke it even as he remains inside you. even as ken wraps his arms tighter around you and he presses kisses to your throat. "don't leave." he whispers so softly into your skin that you would have missed it.

"i won't." you mumble back and he huffs a heavy sigh like the reassurance is everything he needs and more. his strong arms squeeze you, fingers taunt on your skin as he coddles you against him. your legs tighten around his waist and you really think that this is what bliss truly is.

he does not want to let you go, he does not want to leave you.

his mouth presses into yours, gently kissing you, he peppers kisses to your face before he leans back. a whine escapes you when he slips his cock from your pussy.

you can feel the cum he kept plugged inside you gushing out and your body tenses. it finally dawns on you what he did. draken's eyes trail from your messy cunt to your expression and he is bothered by the unsureness contorting your features.

he presses a deep kiss to your mouth, almost like he wants to remind you it is him, that it is okay because it's him, that you were going to be with him one way or another. he caresses your face and you pursue your lips as he stands from the bed and goes to the bathroom.

you are stuck in your thoughts, your eyes on him when he reenters the room and he starts wiping you off. you are sore and tired yet you cannot seem to sleep because what does this mean for you and him?

once he is done he climbs into the bed with you, he tucks himself along your side, his bicep your pillow and his nose nuzzling your cheek. you are both still completely bare, his arm wraps around your waist and it is silent for a moment before his deep voice flitters through the air.

"do you think it took?" your brows raise, eyes slightly alarmed. what does he mean by that? you know what he means. you swear it was all in the heat of the moment.

your eyes meet his, "what?" you are exasperated but draken is unphased.

"my seed." it makes a shiver run down your spine. you furrow your brows, you are not sure what you should say.

"i don't know... i don't think so," you cannot picture yourself pregnant, not right now. you never thought he would want that, not with you.

you are surprised by how disheartened he seems.

"we can keep trying." his hand trails along your waist until it sits low on your stomach. you are stunned, you are entirely in disbelief. he gently strokes the flesh while your thoughts are a jumbled mess.

when his gaze meets yours, he smiles. it is too dangerous.

"i hope our baby has your eyes."

i didn't think this would be so long

i have a nanami fic that's almost done and it is just as long !