#i want steak so damn bad...

[guhbwuh]

The self chibi is the best chibi

sniffle.... ty 🥹 another one.. just for u....

[succubusvalentine]

Butcher!Simon Riley watching you fuck up wagyu. CW : bad steak cooking. Fluff.

He’s trying to hold himself back, lovie. He swears it. But Jesus Christ you’re handling that Wagyu he procured horribly.

He felt his stomach twist as you didn't let it sit. Then it twisted even more as you over seasoned it.

"Baby, are you sure you don't want me to cook dinner?" Simon gritted out.

"No! No no, Si. You always work so hard" you reassure with that sweet smile that completely melted Simon into a puddle of goo.

Simon doubled his glass of whiskey as he watched you turn the heat up too high on the stovetop. But you looked so happy and proud of yourself as you burnt seared the wagyu.

After a while, Simon clutched his glass tightly as you cut the wagyu with the grain. Not against it.

You put the plate in front of Simon, and while the mash and roast vegetables were delicious. The wagyu...not so much. As soon as Simon took a bite, it was like trying to chew through a tire. You definitely overcooked it. And the seasoning was...well, it wasn't great.

"Good?" you asked hopefully.

"Absolutely delicious, lovie" Simon smiled. Lying through his God damn teeth. He couldn't bring himself to dampen how proud of yourself you were.

You sat across from Simon and cut into your steak, taking a bite, only to immediately grimace and force it down.

"Jesus Christ don't eat it" you grimace with a whine, taking Simon's plate as he chuckled. "Why didn't you tell me it was bad?!"

"You looked so proud of yourself, sweetheart. I didn't wanna make you pout"

"I am never touching wagyu again. You're making it next time...And we're ordering pizza"

Simon chuckled as you pouted, ordering the pizza as he pulled you into his lap. "It was a real sweet thought, lovie" he hummed as he rubbed your stomach, laughing again as you glare at him playfully.

But don't worry, the following night Simon made the best steak you'd ever eaten.

⛧°. ⋆𓌹♰𓌺⋆. °⛧

this was heavily self indulgent because I can make a mean mash potato, but any meats? I am HORRIBLE.

[straows]

Garden Injuries p.2

—in which you wake up after being out for three days from fever, only to find Sukuna waiting by your side. He's rather eager for you to heal... for many reasons.

A/n: I really wanted to write this but like I want to implode because I kind of fucking hate it?? Also, should I make a taglist??????

<< part one

Waking up, you immediately felt a raging pain in your thigh. You could feel your heartbeat pulse in the wound— it was that kinda bad. Not only that, but your throat was dry and you were colder than Sukuna’s attitude towards humans.

Slowly, you pried your eyes open. It felt like you’d been asleep for years, you’d been asleep for three days while the fever wore off. Sighing, you sat up, biting your lip as you winced, keeping down the hiss that threatened to leave you.

Looking down at your body, you had no pants on. Only your panties and the shirt you were wearing were sure as shit not yours. It is massive, and dropped over your body like a blanket almost. The neckline slipping over your shoulder too.

Taking the neck hem to your nose, it smelt like Sukuna. And immediately, embarrassingly enough, it had you smiling softly. However, you quickly notice a figure moving in the corner.

“You’re finally awake, brat.” Sukuna walked over, crouching down in front of you. He pressed the back of his hand against your forehead, “you humans are so weak, however you are on the tail end of the fever.” His eyes glanced down at the wound on your leg, and his jaw clenched with frustration.

Because you’d hidden this from him, it’d gotten infected. The stitches you’d received from one of the servants were horrible and had only made the wound worse.

“Uraume tells me this wound will take a while to heal. It will scar,” he glared at you as he leaned in, his face inches from yours, “this is your fault, brat.”

Your brows furrowed, and you huffed, “I was fine without your help, my Lord.” Oh you were feisty. And he fucking ate it up. No one else had the balls to snap at him like you did, and you didn’t even have balls.

“You would’ve died from the fever and succumbed to your wounds without me.” He mused, raising a brow when you scoffed at him. Looking like a pissed off squirrel in his eyes. A cute one at that.

“This is why I hid it from you,” rolling your eyes, you began to try and stand, only for him to quickly push you back down by your shoulder.

“Remember who you speak to, brat.” His glare silenced you promptly, but you still had a pout on your pretty lips. “You will be staying in this room with me from now on.”

“What about the garden? That is my only duty here—“ you were a bit worried now. Sukuna was known to throw away servants who could no longer do their jobs. He’d kill them and use them as an example. But you knew damn well you were his favorite.

“What of it?” Sukuna narrowed his eyes, before sitting down in front of you, a servant came in promptly with a tray of a variety of foods, ranging from meat to fruit to sweets. “Eat.”

“Well I can’t stay here and tend to the garden… your chambers are quite far.” You tried to reason with him, before quickly snatching a chunk of steak with your hands and fucking devouring it. You were starving.

Sukuna enjoyed watching you eat like an animal far too much. It had satisfaction pooling in his stomach, yes, he’d provided for you. You, his future wife and queen.

“Your duties as a gardener have been removed, another servant has replaced your position.”

You froze mid-bite, your eyes wide as you looked up at him, “but— but that’s my job. No one else does it better than me!” You are nervous now. Your only job, the thing you were best at had been taken. Now what were you to do?

“You will remain at my side. As I had said three days ago before you passed out. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?” Sukuna tilted his head slightly, before putting the meat in your hand. He grabbed a small cloth and wiped your hands and face before grabbing you by your hips and easily pulling you against his chest. Your body rested between his propped-up knees, back fitting perfectly against his chest.

“I-I… don’t remember.” Your face was a bright red as you let Sukuna move you. Swallowing nervously you tilted your head back so you could look up at him.

“Then I will remind you,” his hands came to rest on your throat, so you’d have no choice but to stare up at him, “You are my mate, my queen, and my woman. You will no longer be a simple servant. You will command all others and learn how to lead so you may lead alongside me.” He said it so easily, while you just stared at him.

And you stared.

And stared,

Before busting out laughing. “Pfft— my Lord, you shouldn’t just like that, I almost believed you.” Your laughter mellowed down to giggles as you smiled, before looking up at him again, you saw his hardened expression and shut your mouth.

“I do not jest, human.” His brows were furrowed and he pulled to a natural frown.

“M-My lord—“

“Sukuna. You are no longer my servant, do not address me as such.” He corrected, his eyes analyzing your reaction with growing amusement.

You sighed, “Sukuna, I’m not even one of your concubines, wouldn’t at least one of them be a better choice?”

“I’ve gotten rid of them.”

“What?!” Your jaw dropped as you stared at him. “Why?”

“You are the only one I need. I grew tired of their touches and crave yours. I just have to wait till your wound heals.” He mumbled and moved his chin to rest on your shoulder. His big hands came up to rest on your soft stomach, “soon you will be round with my heir.”

“Heir?!”

“Yes.”

“This is insane.”

“Sanity has nothing to do with what I plan for us.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his hands gently kneaded your tummy as thoughts of you full and round with his kid popped up. Oh how ready he was to finally have you and claim you.

“…you’re serious?” You stared at the tray of food, then down at his hands that explored your torso.

“Yes. Once again, I am not joking, human.” He huffed.

“…right. I still want to take care of the garden.” You were so confident when you said that, a mistake on your end.

“Have I not made myself clear? Must I make you understand another way?” Sukuna bit down on your shoulder, making you gasp before a squeal ripped from your throat as his hand dipped underneath your panties, cupping your cunt in a way that had you aching.

“Wait—“ You tried to grab at his wrist, but he was not having it. It merely made him slip a finger into you, to prove his point.

“You are no longer a servant. I do not touch my servants like this. You will understand this.” His voice was determined and stern as he curled his finger inside you. Slowly stretching you. And while, yes, he was doing this to prove his point, he’s also been holding himself back from touching you. And this? This was a great excuse to get his hands on you… and in you.

Moaning softly, your back arched against him as his middle finger, thick and long, curled inside you. And soon, his middle finger was joined with his ring finger.

“You will learn to rule by my side, I will not have it any other way.” He spoke against your ear, finding your reactions to his touch utterly delicious.

He abandoned the gentle approach and began to quickly fuck you with his fingers. The feeling of you squirm and moan against him had his cock(s) growing hard. “Does that feel good, human? Hm?”

You nodded your head quickly, and despite the pain in your leg, you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his hand, chasing the pleasure that had your muscles taught in need.

“I can feel you tighten around me, your body is so honest.” His other hand slipped under your arm before grasping at your tits. Squeezing and kneading the soft, heavy flesh.

“Kuna-!!” Your words were slurred as you continued to work your cunt like he knew it with his eyes closed.

Sukuna merely hummed in response, happy with simply watching you fall apart against him. He sighed in satisfaction when you finally came around his fingers, and he could feel how tight you squeezed.

“When you heal, I will claim you, and then you will be fully mine.” He murmured against your ear, a smug grin rose to his lips as you just whined in response, your body already growing tired. Eyes fluttering shut, in record time your breathing evened out and you’d fallen asleep against him.

“My weak little human.” He wrapped his arms around you in a protective hold, the feeling of finally having you in his arms was one he was rapidly growing fond of.

Taglist @xyinparadise @sofi4dsam

[himasgod]

Can I request the Twst first years with an S/O who is kinda shy, quiet, doesn't really talk much... but she is obsessed with meat?

Like, smells a barbecue a mile away and is there waiting with a plate before they can ask "who wants what?". Do not let her try a bite of your steak she will eat the whole thing (she'll pay you back obviously, she's just bad at stopping cause meat is so yummy). If any kind of meat is involved in the conversation that earlier shyness is gone and she's talking a mile a minute. Stuff like that?

FIRST YEARS X READER

Where are you crazy about meat

Where you are a shy and quiet girl until a piece of meat appears… and you become completely crazy and passionate. How would our first-year boys react?

Deuce Spade

Deuce always thought you were a super sweet and quiet person. He appreciated how quiet you were, because around him, he felt he could relax without the need to talk too much.

But everything changed the day you went out to lunch together.

He ordered a regular plate, but you… you ordered the largest portion of meat they had in the cafeteria.

As soon as it was served, you grabbed your cutlery with fierce and began devouring it like it was your last meal.

Deuce's eyes widened, his fork halfway to his mouth.

"W-Wait… you always eat like this?"

He couldn't help but stare at you in shock.

The way you had transformed from a quiet girl into a meat-eating machine was simply breathtaking.

From that moment on, he began making sure you had the best meat at every meal.

If he saw another plate had a bigger piece, he'd discreetly switch plates without you noticing.

"Ah… this one had more meat, so you have it."

Although he still can't get over the shock of seeing your transformation every time you eat, he secretly finds it adorable.

Ace Trappola

The first time he saw you eat meat was… an eye-opening experience.

You were in the cafeteria. Up until that moment, Ace saw you as the quiet girl in the group, the one who always listened more than she spoke.

But then, the chef brought a huge steak to the table. And the moment you saw it…

Your eyes shone with the intensity of a thousand suns.

Without hesitation, you grabbed your cutlery with impressive speed and began cutting the meat with the precision of a surgeon.

In a matter of seconds, you had devoured the first bite.

Ace blinked. Then he looked at you. Then he looked at the meat.

"Wait… WHAT HAPPENED TO MY SHY AND CUTE GIRLFRIEND?"

It didn't take him a second to start laughing.

"IT'S LIKE YOU ACTIVATED A SECRET MODE MAN"

From that moment on, Ace turned your love of meat into his personal entertainment.

"What if I put a steak in front of you and then move it away? Would you attack me, darling?"

He annoys you only because he finds it hilarious to see you transform as soon as meat enters the scene.

But deep down, he also makes sure you get the best bites.

Of course he'd never admit it.

"Hey, I just happened to order two pieces of steak, but I'm not that hungry… Do you want 'em ?"

(That's his way of saying he likes seeing you happy.)

Epel Felmier

At first, he thought you were shy and elegant, the kind of person Vil always praises for her grace and refinement.

But when he saw how you devoured a steak without hesitation, he almost spit out his apple juice.

"Damn...! Do you always eat like this?"

After the initial shock, he found it incredibly cool that you weren't afraid to enjoy food. As someone who grew up in a village where home-cooked food is key, he decided he had to impress you.

"In Harveston, we know how to cook meat like the gods. Let me show you how it's done."

Since then, whenever he gets the chance, he cooks you dishes using traditional recipes from his village. If you try his food and enjoy it, he'll try to act like he doesn't mind too much, but his face will turn red with pride.

"Heh, sure, it's only natural that I turn out well… but if you want more, just lemme know, and I'll make more tomorrow."

If you don't eat with such enthusiasm one day, he'll worry. "Hey, are you okay? If you're not hungry, something's wrong."

Sharing food is important to him, so seeing you happy with what he's cooking makes him feel special.

Jack Howl

When Jack discovered your love for meat, his first thought was, "She has good eating habits."

As someone who watches his diet very carefully for training, he appreciates that you also eat enough protein.

As soon as you took a bite, all your shyness disappeared.

Your eyes lit up, your posture changed, and you began to talk passionately about how delicious the meat was.

"This is amazing! The texture, the flavor, everything is perfect!"

Jack simply fell silent, surprised to see you suddenly talking so much.

"…So this is the real you, huh?"

Far from being bothered, he finds it extremely cool. He likes seeing how happy you get when you eat meat, so from that moment on, he started buying you beef jerky as a little gift.

Without hesitation, he gets up in the cafeteria and orders more for you.

When he returned with the extra plate and placed it in front of you, he simply said,

"Eat. There's no reason to be hungry."

Plus, if you ever train together, he'll tell you he'll buy you some meat as a reward. He really does.

"You ran well today. Let's get some meat as a reward."

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek already considered you a noble and dignified person because of your reserved and respectful attitude.

But the day he saw your love for meat…

"EXCELLENT!"

Instead of being surprised or scared, he was moved. To him, your love for meat is a sign of strength!

"THIS IS HOW IT SHOULD BE! A TRUE WARRIOR EATS WITHOUT FEAR!"

Every time you go out to eat, he'll order the largest portion available.

And if you try to say it's not necessary, he'll slam the table firmly.

"DON'T HOLD BACK! A STRONG PERSON NEEDS TO EAT WELL!"

From then on, every time you eat together, he'll make sure you get a decent portion.

"Waiter! Another plate for my beloved! It's undignified to leave her hungry!"

(Sebek, you don't have to yell at the poor waiter 😭.)

The first time you tasted the meat he cooked for you, you almost cried with joy. Sebek took it as a sign that it was the best meat in the world.

"I KNEW IT! BRIAR VALLEY FOOD IS SUPERIOR!"

Now he's convinced that your love of meat is a virtue worthy of respect.

"I'M PROUD TO HAVE A GIRLFRIEND LIKE YOU!"

[lovegalor333]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

woman crush wednesday (paige x reader) (next part)

summary: paige is asked who her celebrity crush is on instagram live and you’re pleasantly surprised when she responds with your name

content warnings: none!

inspired by this request from @rizzlerbuckets 🌟

“You have to see this, Y/N.” Your best friend exclaimed as she joined you in your kitchen where you were making dinner for the both of you.

You glance up from the stove to see her phone in her hand outstretched in your direction. There’s a video playing and from what you can see, it’s a screen recording of an Instagram live. The are two girls in the frame and they look like they’re in a dorm room.

“What is this? Who are they?” You ask confused, turning your attention back to the steak you were frying in a pan.

“They’re basketball players, just watch.” She insists, pushing her phone closer to your face.

You turn your gaze to the video and do as your best friend says. You watch the girls on screen as they read through the comments they were getting. They would laugh every now and then and you found yourself entranced by the blonde and the way her eyes scrunched at the sides when she smiled.

Your best friend turns up the volume of her phone and watches you closely with raised brows.

“OK OK! This is a good question whos your celebrity crush?” The girl with the braids directs to her friend next to her.

The blonde girl ponders for all of three seconds, “This is easy.” She grins and you’re expecting the usual response of one of the many famous men that most girls pine over. Channing Tatum, Michael B Jordan, Harry Styles, Justin Bieber, Vinnie Hacker, Jude Bellingham and you’re not sure why your best friend wanted you to watch this so bad. Until you hear her answer and it’s none of the names you imagined, it’s not even a man. It’s you.

“She’s bad bad.” The blonde continues, “And she sings. What more could you ask for?”

“Damn OK, someones down bad.” Her friend teases, “Y/N, if you’re watching this, let my girl Paige here take you on a date.” You laugh because you imagined the girls never would have thought you’d actually watch this video but, little do they know, your best is chronically online and sees everything that’s posted about you. Of course, she picks and chooses what she shares with you but you’re secretly glad this video made it through her vetting process.

“How old is this girl?” You ask cautiously before making any further comments.

“I’ll Google!” Your best friend chimes, tapping away at her phone. “Twenty two.” She clarifies, the same age as you.

“And she’s still in college?” You ask.

“It says here she was injured for the majority of two seasons so she was eligible to redshirt. She goes to University of Connecticut.” Your best friend explains, probably reading through Wikipedia.

You and your best friend discuss Paige over dinner, scrolling through her various social media accounts. Now you knew her age, you had no problem voicing how you felt about her. “She’s hot.” You say as her most recent TikTok plays on a loop.

Not only was she blonde, which was historically your type, but she had the most beautiful blue eyes that could draw you in, even through a screen. She played basketball, so of course she was tall but the way she carried herself so confidently and purposeful had you in a chokehold. Her muscular body, that she had no problem showing off, had your heart rate spiking each time she flexed her biceps in videos that now flooded your For You Page.

“Well, you know where Connecticut isn’t far from? New York.” Your best friend says, “And where are we? NEW YORK!” She triumphs as if you hadn’t already been able to come to that conclusion yourself.

“I’m messaging her.” You announce, opening Instagram and searching for Paiges name.

“What are you going to say?”

“I don’t know, something flirty.” You reply, fingers hovering over your keyboard as you think.

“Picture of your mommy milkers?” Your best friend says and you laugh at her suggestion, “No! Not yet, anyway.”

You type out a message before deleting it and you finally land on,

heard you wanted to take me on a date?

Paige is quick to reply, you’ve barely put your phone down before it pings.

hahah you saw the live?

im embarrassed

dont be, im flattered

and wondering where you’re taking me

You cringe at your boldness but the send the message anyway. Paige was hot and she clearly thought you were too so what was the harm in having some fun?

are you busy right now?

wow, you don’t waste any time

not for the date darling, call me

Paige sends you her number and you press call, anxiously waiting for her to answer. When she does, her voice is smoky and sweet and your brows raise at her tone and you excuse yourself to your bedroom, leaving your best friend grinning from ear to ear like a kid in a candy store.

You and Paige chatted for longer than you realise and you find yourself giggling like a teenager at her words. It’s almost midnight when Paiges words become softer and slower, “It’s late. I should let you go.” You say not wanting to keep her up.

“Or you could stay on the phone and sing me to sleep.” She quips, earning another giggle from you.

“Let’s save that for another time. When I’m actually there and you can feel my breath on your neck.” You drawl.

You hear a sharp in take of breath, “Don’t play.” Paige says lowly.

“Goodnight Paige.” You giggle, satisfied with her flustered response.

“Goodnight Y/N.”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: just a short one but this was actually really fun to write! hope u enjoy 💋 vinnie hacker mention because p is never escaping that 😭

[royalarchivist]

Chrono Cosmo: Yaaas~ [Laughs ominously] See you soon~ But don't forget to tell your other teammates, ok?

Tubbo: Ok! Bye, pookie-bear!

Chrono Cosmo: Oh~! 😚 Bye-bye~

Tubbo: [Cracks up] Why is he so fcking gay??? [Laughs] What the hell!

[Tubbo re-joins his group's VC]

Tubbo: Guys, I just spoke with the gayest man I think I've ever spoken to ever. He's like, the most cunty guy I've ever met.

[ Full Transcript ↓ ]

—

TRANSCRIPT

Tubbo: There should be a LOT more diamond ore–

Chrono Cosmo: [Suddenly appears behind him] Hey~

Tubbo: [Gets startled and screams]

Tubbo: ...Bro, you're a creep for that.

Chrono Cosmo: Do you know what I think? People hate me! Hate me so much!

Tubbo: I don't hate you! You're chill AF.

Chrono Cosmo: [Hums a sigh] I'm good, I'm a good person! But I'm bringing you a difficult mission. [Laughs]

Tubbo: Could you give me wool? Can I have wool? I'll do anything for wool.

Chrono Cosmo: [Fake sympathetic voice] Oh, I'm sorry, I cannot give you that. [Laughs]

Tubbo: Aw :(

Chrono Cosmo: But I can give you this– [They toss Tubbo a steak and laugh]

Tubbo: What's that? Oh! Wait–

Chrono Cosmo: It's a great and amazing cut. 💅

Tubbo: Oh! Thank you. I was actually hungry. Low-key.

Chrono Cosmo: Do you like it?

Tubbo: Yeah, it's decent. Is it gonna turn me into like, some kind of bug? Be real. Is it cursed?

Chrono Cosmo: Oh... [Laughs]

Tubbo: Low-key dude? You're kinda cunty! I love it.

Chrono Cosmo: Oh, I'm not! I'm just a good person walking around–

Tubbo: No, but in like a good way! Not in a bad way.

Chrono Cosmo: But let me give you your damn mission, ok?

[...]

Tubbo: Got it.

Chrono Cosmo: Yaaas~ [Laughs ominously]

Tubbo: How do you want me to–

Chrono Cosmo: See you soon~ But don't forget to tell your other teammates, ok?

Tubbo: Ok! Bye, pookie-bear!

Chrono Cosmo: Oh~! Bye-bye~

Tubbo: [Cracks up] Why is he so fcking gay??? [Laughs] What the hell!

[Tubbo re-joins the VC]

Tubbo: Guys, I just spoke with the gayest man I think I've ever spoken to ever.

[Stunned silence]

Foolish: I– [Laughs]

Fit: Really?

Tubbo: Not even kidding! Like, the big floaty big boss-man came up to me, and he's like, the most cunty guy I've ever met.

[Fit and Foolish laugh]

Tubbo: I'm not even kidding!

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt. Family? Assemble!

Reporter: Gotham News, and we have a new supervillain on the line. Mr Phantom, what are your demands at the moment? Phantom with lack of sleep and with tears: I..I want a titanium model of a spaceship! And to get a good night’s sleep and to go to the local school…and some fudge and.. Reporter: Oh, my bad. Just one question for clarification, are you by any chance an orphan or are your parents villains? Phantom: I prefer the term mad scientists Reporter: Okay. So, Gotham news! And with me on the line is the new potential child of Wayne or Batman. Want to know how two serial adopters will share a child leading a double life? Stay with us and find out. Now let's check in with Jessie for our weather report. Phantom: Wait, what?

~~~~~

Danny spends the night running from the Red Hood with a bag of fudge, Red Robin with a pot of coffee, Batman with the adoption papers and, for some reason, Brucie Wayne with an idea of internship at a space station. Ha! The Justice League will never let a ghost into orbit. Not that Wayne can blackmail superheroes or smth. Danny: Fuck you all! I’m done with vigilante activity, I’m not your competitor! What do you want from me? And I’m done with crazy billionaires too. I swear, I’d rather be adopted by a local mob boss just to piss you off! ~Later~ Danny *sees peering out of the corner Matches Malone*: Are you kidding me?! Robbie *jumps off the roof and lands right behind Danny*: Stop running, lil brother, No one’s left the family yet. Minnie: What about Neal? Robbie *shakes a knife with a bow on the handle negatively*: He’s on sabbatical, that doesn’t count. Anyway, it’s a gift for you, cub. Danny: Um, thank you, but my lab scalpels are definitely sterile, and your blade was in who knows who before you brought it here. Robbie: It’s brand-new! And Archie decorated it with a ghost on the handle. Look! It's cute! With a smile and… Dick: Hands up! You’re under arrest for trying to steal our new member! Minnie: Why is he yours, damn cop? Selina: Boys, don’t fight. He’s mine. Schrodinger’s cat is still a kitten. Killer Croc: No way, my niece is staying with me. Danny: Uncle Waylon? Long time no see. Ra's: My grandson needs steady access to ectoplasm. Danyal, come with me. Danny: Over my dead body! Oh shiii…I mean no. Anyway, don’t you think the alley’s getting a little crowded?

~~~~

Killer Croc: Is he still mad at me? RR: Danny doesn’t talk to uncles who tried to eat his beloved brother Red Robin. Killer Croc: He wasn’t even your brother then. What do you want? An apology from me? RR: That would be nice.

~~~~

Danny: I didn’t think the GIW agents would really fear the reputation of Gotham and not follow me. What a relief! Jason *quickly throws the knife into the sink*: Wow, you got lucky. Alfred: Master Jones, why don’t you eat your steak? I thought last week you were complaining to Batman that 'cause of him you got not many prey. Croc *pulls a piece of white robe from the teeth*: Well, now there is a lot of it. Bruce *gives Jason and Croc the side-eye*.

~~~~

Ra's: You do realize that Malone, Wayne and Batman are the same person, right? Boy, you were born into a family of geniuses, don’t disappoint Grandpa. Danny: Triple pocket money, triple gifts for the holidays, the opportunity to complain about the same family member three times. No, Grandpa, I definitely don’t understand. Ra's: Smart little weasel.

~~~~

Selina: Okay. Purely theoretical. Do you like to steal? Danny: I wouldn’t say that. But somehow I stole the sword from the fright knight. And also stole few jewels but then I was under the mind control. I returned them. Well, the crown and ring of the king of the ghost zone I also took without permission. Oh, and the answers to the test once. And I’m really sorry about the last one. Neal: I feel the story behind it but I prefer to know nothing about it.

[cod-dump]

Sickness

PriceGraves, NikPriceGraves

___

Graves doesn't get sick easy. He has a very strong immune system. Yet when he does get sick...

"Remember hot summer days with a flat beer? Steaks on the grill, cicadas screaming. I miss those days... Will I ever see them again?"

"For fuck's sake, Phil, you're not dying."

Price has never met a man, a soldier, so dramatic while having the flu. You would believe he was dying, with a red nose while spread out in bed like he was trying not to smother. It was pathetic. Nik was whiny but at least he didn't try his damnedest to convince his partners he was dying.

"I could use affection," Graves whined, making a weak attempt at trying to grab Price.

"You could use medicine, soup, and sleep."

He stepped away and Graves fucking sobbed. Price had to remind himself he loved this man, no matter how annoying he could be. Price turned back around and leaned over, pressing a kiss to Graves' forehead. Damn he was burning up.

"You definitely need medicine."

Graves grunted as Price left to get some. He already had soup simmering on the stove, clean sheets in the dryer, a load with pajamas in the washer. He had to check on Graves at least every twenty minutes or he would start whining about being 'abandoned'. He was starting to compete with Nik on clinginess.

Price checked the soup, it smelled bland yet good. He didn't want to upset Graves' stomach after he noticed him dry heaving earlier that morning. The sheets were done drying and Price took them out and folded them. They would replace the current bed sheets after Graves takes a bath and changes his clothes.

"Joooohn," came the whine and Price sighed. He quickly shoved the wet pajamas in the dryer before returning to den of the dying man.

"I'm hungry," he didn't even cross the threshold when Graves cried.

"Soup is almost done. How about a bath first?"

It was like he had a toddler. Graves grumbled a 'no' and turned away from him. Price sighed, Nik was never this bad.

"Bath, then you can put clean clothes on, eat, and get in a nice clean bed."

Graves grumbled again, not making an effort to move. Price decided he was going to have to move him himself. He's been wanting manhandle him since he started the 'I'm dying' shit. Price left to run the bath, warm with soap, before he braces himself and returned to grab the man it was made for.

"Phillip," the sweet approach first, typically he hadn't need to go past it, "A bath will help make you feel better."

Graves seemed to melt with his tone, it might just work. So Price gently took his shoulders and coaxed him into sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed.

"Come on, love."

Graves was easy after that, he went to the bathroom without issue, only some hesitance to take his clothes off and get in the bath. Once he was settle Price gathered the sweaty night shirt and pants and threw them in the hamper.

"I never had such an issue of getting you out of your clothes."

Graves snorts, settled in the water and visibly relaxing. Price assumed it would be safe to leave him there while he finished the laundry and got the soup off the stove and into a bowl.

"I'll be right back, don't forget to clean your hair."

Price chose to not acknowledge the glare coming from Graves as he left the bedroom. Pajamas were clean and folded, he set a set aside to give to Graves to change into. A portion of soup ladled out for Graves, it would be cooled enough for him to eat by the time he was out of the bath.

Conveniently, he had a moment to breathe. No whining Graves, laundry done, no soup cooking. A true moment of silence. Then his phone rang. Price admits he groaned in frustration.

He grabbed his phone from the table and answered without looking, "Price speaking."

"My love!"

Price couldn't help the smile twitch onto his lips, "Yes, Nikolai?"

"You don't sound very happy to hear from me," god he could practically hear the pout.

"Sorry, dear, but I've been a bit preoccupied with a very needy Phil."

Nik laughs gleefully. Graves had gotten sick only once before since he got with them, Nik had the pleasure of caring for him while Price was on duty. Price mocked him when he told him about Graves' over the top dramatics while stuck with a cold. Now he was realizing his husband was, in fact, not exaggerating.

"Give him kisses for me. I'm still in Moscow. Not sure when I'll be home."

"You can give him your own kisses, he's been living off mine just fine."

Nik laughs, Price smiling at the sound. He saw Graves walk out of the hall, naked, in a half-asleep state. Price tried to suppress his sigh.

"Love, pants."

"WHAT!?"

Graves was dazed, looking at Price with a pitiful look, "Where's the PJ's?"

Price motions to the set he left aside for him before returning to his call with his husband.

"I have to go, have to make sure this gremlin eats."

"Fuck you," Graves muttered half-heartedly as he weakly grabbed the pajamas next to Price, dressing himself slowly.

"Fine fine, I will leave you be."

Price snickers, "Phil, Nik's on the phone."

Graves waddles over and leans against Price, reaching for the phone. Price let him take it, holding him by the waist. Graves practically melted against him as he mumbled into the phone.

"You should be here."

Price could faintly hear Nik reply sweetly, "I will be soon! I will come with plenty of kisses!"

"Promise?"

"Of course, любимый."

Graves hums, satisfied. He gives the phone back without another word and slips out of Price's hold, heading straight to the kitchen.

"I think he's done for now. Love you, travel safe."

"I'm flying, I'll be fine."

Price laughs before the call ended. He watches Graves take the bowl set aside for him and slumps over it, face stuck in the bowl, spoon laying forgotten by the bowl. Price groans, he's drinking it like a dog.

"Phillip-"

This was going to be a long week if he doesn't get better immediately tomorrow.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Monster, Inc. 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is an asshole, you know this. But what happens when he turns his wrath upon you? (plus!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, this reader is known as Missie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Maestro’s is a nice place. Your dress feels even louder in the high-end restaurant. And you feel even more tired as the dim lighting softens the edges of your vision. Mr. Hansen looms there too, ushering you after the hostess as she leads you to your reserved booth. 

A man awaits you. He doesn’t stand or offer Lloyd a handshake. He simply finishes his martini and shoves the empty glass at the hostess, keeping the olive to chew on. 

“’Bout time,” he mutters at Hansen around the garnish. 

“Nice to see you too, Hugh,” Hansen nudges you ahead of him. You slide onto the curved bench silently. The man finally looks up from his glowing phone. He scoffs in your direction. “Who’s the grade school teacher?” 

“Assistant,” Hansen drops down and glides in close to you. “She’ll keep minutes.” 

“Really? Alright,” he snorts. 

“Well, you want an investment so... it’s business, isn’t it?” 

“Thought we were getting drinks and steak,” the other man he called Hugh sits back casually. 

“Missie, Ransom, Ransom, Missie. There, all introduced,” Hansen picks up the liquor menu and pets his mustache. You notice how he toys particular with the shining silver strand. 

“Nice to meet you, uh, Ransom,” you intone. 

“Yeah, sure,” he sniffs and rolls his eyes. You’re an intruder, if not an imposter. Not just at this table but in this restaurant. You should be with Peter getting your sandwich with extra pickles. 

The men are silent. You look between them as the tension rise. A waitress reappears with a fresh martini and puts it before Ransom. Hansen sits up and puts down the small menu.  

“Scotch, top shelf for me, and a vodka tonic for the lady. She’s watching those hips,” he orders. You don’t put in that you’d rather not drink. You doubt he’ll notice if you touch it or not. Besides, it’s a courtesy you don’t expect of him. 

“You going to the reunion?” Ransom asks over his martini. 

“Nah, stuff’s sad. Bunch of washed out legacies and stringy armed pledges.” Hansen retorts. 

“Mr. Big Stuff’s too cool for school,” Ransom chortles. “Imagine this, honey,” he gestures to you with his stemmed glass. “Big boss man used to be the frat’s treasurer. Penny pincher. Kept a fucking stranglehold over every penny. Wouldn’t even put out for cups for beer pong--” 

“Not all of have grandaddy’s trust fund to fall back on--” 

“Bro, don’t even. Your mom is loaded.” 

“Where do you think I got my good sense from?” Hansen counters. The server returns with your drinks and sets them down, offering a food menu. The men wave those away. Your stomach growls. 

Hansen slides the sparkling vodka in front of you. He sips his own dark liquor and you let yours sit on ice. He huffs and flicks the brim of your glass, “drink.” 

“Sir,” you lift the glass and take a tiny sip. 

“Don’t be ungrateful,” he pushes on the bottom until you gulp. You nearly gag on the bitterness of the tonic and alcohol. 

“So what’s going on here?” Ransom leans his elbows on the table. 

“Business, talk about your damn books,” Hansen demands with the snap of his fingers. 

“New imprint. So long as I can get the backers,” Ransom shrugs. “Grandfather says I have to put work in. Mom says the same.” 

“Oh, and how is the insatiable Mrs. Thrombey?” 

“Hey,” Ransom warns. 

Hansen cackles, “now that’s a woman. Tall, domineering—you know, she still got it--” 

“Would you quit?” 

“I’m having fun,” Hansen chuckles and drains his glass. He takes out his phone and Ransom sighs, nursing his own drink in agitation. 

You squirm in the roiling air. You wet your lips as you wait for them to continue. Neither of them do. 

“That’s a nice ring...” you comment, just to ease the silence. 

Ransom twists the mother of pearl band then fidgets with his hands, “thank, er...” 

“So you went to school together?” You prompt, afraid of another simmering tension. 

“Pfft, no. Do I look old?” Ransom sneers. “I only heard the stories. After. L-Dog made quite the name for himself.” 

“Hugh,” Hansen puts his phone screen down. 

“What? I’m making conversation since you can’t be bothered,” he shrugs and leans forward, focusing on you. “What’s it like working for him? He a tight ass? I mean, he’s got you here past six. I’m thinking so.” 

“She’s here to take notes,” Hansen insists. “It’s her job.” 

“Suuuuure,” Ransom drags out the word. “Still the same as you ever were, huh.” 

“Shut up.” 

“This guy, oh, everyone knew what he liked. Really chubby ch--” 

Hansen slaps the table and it jolts as he kicks Ransom underneath, “you want me to back your nepotistic venture or what?” 

Ransom laughs and reaches to rubs his shin, “you know, this could’ve been an email.” 

“Could’ve,” Hansen signals for the server. “But I prefer to deal with you with a dash of good scotch.” He taps your glass again, “finish that.” 

The waitress reappears and Hansen orders another round for the table. You deflate just a little. You hoped you might get out early enough to meet Peter, or at least call him and explain. You’re not sure your frantic apology via text made sense. 

“You’re too nice for him,” Ransom says. “And it’s me saying so.” 

“Get on with it,” Hansen sneers. 

“Fine. Erotic thrillers. Granddad’s scandalised but I told him, times are changing. People like horny with their fear.” 

You stay quiet. You’re rather content to do so. Let them chatter. You take out your phone and take notes; trying to translate his crass explanation into business speak. Hansen gets his second drink and yawns. 

The more you transcribe there blustering chirping, the more you feel that needling in your head. You shouldn’t be here. Neither of them need you here. You know it’s punishment; because you saw your boss at his weakest, but when did you ever step a toe out of line with Hansen. You’ve ever been loyal. You are sitting at that table after all. 

“Hips, if you’re not gonna drink, don’t let it go to waste,” Hansen snatches your untouched refill and slurps it down. 

Concern tickles behind your ears. He’s drinking a lot and fast. The longer you’re here, the more he knocks back, you’re assured that you won’t be catching up with Peter tonight.  

You quickly flip out of your notes app and check your conversation. You deleted Hansen’s message but not before it was read. Even so, Peter’s response is ‘understood, we’ll do another night’. You reply to him quickly 

‘Sorry again. Boss has important stuff. Maybe this weekend?’ 

You switch back to your notes as Hansen slaps his chest and stifle a belch. Ransom sucks on the gin soaked olive and shakes his head again. Looks like you’re going to be the adult at the table. 

[darlingdaisyfarm]

hi!! just wanna say you are my fav gravity falls author and im so obsessed with your fics for stan 🙏🙏 could i please have a stan x fem!reader smut where stan just REALLY likes tits. like a LOT. you have full creative freedom to go wherever you want with this idea i just wholeheartedly believe stan is a tit man <3 thank u and plz never delete this account youre the coolest 💞

Stan Pines is obsessed with you and your breasts ♡ (headcanons + blurb)

author note: hii, angel!! thank you sm for this sweet message, i'm literally melting and giggling and smiling rn!!! i can't even tell you how much this made my day, you're so kind and your words honestly mean the world to me 🤍 

i had so much fun with this idea, so here’s something for you bc ur wish is my command! i hope it’s what u expected. and thank you for supporting me! ♡

I need this grumpy old man so bad, guys send me more asks bout him also comments and/or reblogs are always appreciated, kisses u💋

nsfw, fem reader

♡ Stan is absolutely shamelessly obsessed with tits. your tits, specifically. big, small, somewhere in between, it doesn’t matter! he’s a hungry fucking man. he fucking loves breasts. worships them. adores them. can’t keep his damn eyes (or hands, or mouth) off them. “you’re gonna kill me with these things, doll, fuckin’ hell, look at ‘em.”

♡ the first time you caught him staring, you were a little shy about it, but he didn’t even try to deny it. “what? they’re right there! whaddya want me to do, not look? it’s like puttin’ a steak in front of a starving man and tellin’ him not to eat!” and you made the mistake of saying, “you could touch them if you wanted to.”

♡ because now his hands are always on you. always. you’re trying to cook? his big hands are sliding up your shirt, squeezing, kneading, thumbs brushing over your nipples, he’s testing just how fast he can make that little gasp slip from your lips. and god, all of that is being done with that smug grin on his face. “what? i’m helpin’.” sure, Stan. sure

♡ I wanna develop idea about cooking more, so: as i said, Stan can’t keep his hands off you when you’re cooking. for him it’s just an excuse to get his hands on your body. expect him to come up behind you, press his broad chest into your back, let his hands rest in your waist as his lips ghost over your neck, muttering “damn, you look so pretty, baby, you sure you don’t wanna skip dinner and come straight to bed?” when he’s rubbing his growing bulge against you while you’re stirring the pot, literally humping you in the middle of the kitchen. It’s hard not to laugh at how desperate he is

♡ the type of man who’ll insist he’s innocent even when he’s shamelessly and obviously staring. you could be fully dressed, wearing the baggiest clothes known to man and this filthy old bastard is still eye-fucking you. “what? can’t help it, doll, you’re beautiful.” no shame. zero!

♡ of course Stan loves to bury his face in your chest. it’s his happy place there. his hands sliding up your sides as he presses his face between your breasts, groaning, “fuckin’ heaven, toots. yer like a damn pillow, but better, so soft, so warm.” while you let your fingers run through his hair. It’s more about being intimate and soft though

♡ “goddamn, look at these beauties. best fuckin’ view in the world, ain’t it?”

♡ he’s a sucker for leaving marks on your breasts. bite marks, hickeys, little bruises from his teeth and fingers

♡ uhh. . . hear me out, him stuffing dollar bills into your bra as a joke (or no). “figure they’re safer here than my wallet anyway.”

♡ Stan loves when you wear anything that lets him see your nipples, especially when they’re hard (from cold or because you’re horny?), he goes crazy when thin shirt or a dress hugs your body. “goddamn, sweetie, could stare at those for hours.”

♡ his guilty pleasure is watching you put lotion on after a shower. you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, smoothing the cream over your arms, shoulders and chest and that old man is drooling

♡ Stan is so domestic, he loves the way you look in the morning, your breasts barely covered by his tank top that you stole. you stretch, yawning, your nipples peeking through the thin fabric and he’s already pulling you back into bed. “don’t care what we had planned today, baby. yer stayin’ right here with me.”

♡ Stanley gets so distracted when you’re undressing in front of him. doesn’t matter if it’s casual or if you’re trying to tease him, once your top comes off, his eyes are immediately glued to you while his cock already twitching to life in his pants. “jesus christ, woman, yer tryin’ to kill me. c’mere and let me get my hands on ya.”

♡ and when he finally gets you laid out on the bed, his hands worshiping every inch of you, oh, he takes his sweet time. dragging his thumbs over the stiff peaks of your nubs, leaning down to wrap his lips around one, sucking gently before giving it a teasing bite. he’s grinning against your skin when you gasp his name, one hand slipping down to spread your thighs apart while he gets comfortable between them. “love when you make these sounds. what’d i do to deserve this, huh?”

♡ oh, his tongue too. it’s wet and warm, circling slow before he flicks the nub just to watch your back arch. his free hand squeezes your other breast, pinching and tugging lightly on the nipple. he groans from how heavenly you taste. “softest damn tits I’ve ever had my hands on. christ, baby, I love you so much.”

♡ if you let him, he’ll press his cock between your breasts, his hands squishing them together as he ruts into the softness, groaning like a goddamn mess. “fuck, baby— mhmm, your so fuckin’ soft, look at this, huh? takin’ me so good, atta girl.”

♡ more thoughts about breasts fuck. i personally think Stan would love it? because there’s something about the sight of his heavy cock sliding between your breasts, the way you press them together for him, making a perfect, soft little channel for him to fuck into like a needy old man he is. he gasps, praises you, worships you whole as he watches himself disappear between them, his tip slick and glistening with precum every time it peaks out

♡ “fuck, doll, keep squeezin’ ’em like that. jesus, yer gonna make me cum just from lookin’ at ya.” and he does, oh, he does. he spills his seed all over your chest. and when he’s finished, Stan isn’t shy about making a mess, watching his cum drip down your breasts

♡ when he’s drunk, Stan gets even more handsy than usual

♡ you get him worked up sometimes by accident. like, when you’re reaching for something high up on a shelf and your shirt rides up, giving him the perfect view of your waist, those soft curves that drive him absolutely crazy. Stan will mumble something like “god, babe—gimme a second, I gotta go fix somethin’ in the back room. . . you know how it is with my old bones.” but it’s all a damn lie because he just needs to take a breather after staring at your body for the last five minutes

♡ Stan absolutely loves when you’re riding him, leaning over with your tits pressed into his face. he doesn’t care if it’s just for a few seconds or longer, he wants to feel them on his lips. he’ll lift his head slightly to suck on your cute nipples or trail hot kisses down your cleavage, his hands gripping your ass as he pushes his hips up to meet you. “sh-shit, baby, lemme just. . .”

♡ you lean over the counter while talking to him, doesn’t matter if you’re talking about what’s for dinner or how the vending machine ate your dollar, his eyes are locked on your chest only, already undressing you in his mind. he’ll mutter something gruff like, “yeah, uh-huh”

♡ loves to make you squirm. Stan’s a teasing bastard and he knows exactly what he’s doing when he brushes his thumb over your sensitive nipple slowly, watching it pebble under his touch. “sensitive today, huh? what’s the matter, sweetheart? thought ya liked it when i played with these pretty little nubs of yours.” and then he pinches, just to hear you gasp and watch you press your thighs together 

♡ i swear, Stan will make excuses to get you on his lap, just so he can slide his hands under your clothes and play with you while you sit there all flustered, giggling silly. “ain’t no law against touchin’ my girl, is there? c’mon, lemme have my fun, been thinkin’ about these all damn day.”

♡ as I mentioned, he’s a sucker for when you’re on top, bouncing on his cock while his big hands squeeze your waist, holding you so tenderly in his arms despite how hard and rough he bucks his hips into you, his mouth is latched onto your nipples. the way your breasts move drives him insane

♡ during lazy, slow sex, Stan loves lying on his side with you pressed against him, one hand massaging your breast as he thrusts into you slowly from behind. his lips are at your ear, whispering filthy things about how soft and warm you feel

♡ but when it’s rough, he’s gripping your breasts so hard you’ll have finger-shaped bruises the next day, pinching your nipples just to watch you arch your back and tremble under him, “you like that, huh? that’s right, my good fucking girl,” and every word he says he punctuates with a thrust. “can’t get enough of me touchin’ you, can ya?”

♡ reminder: Stan doesn’t just love your breasts because they’re sexy, though, yeah, they are. he loves them because they’re yours. soft, warm, comforting, just like you. and if he can bury his face in them and forget about the rest of the world for a little while? that’s just the cherry on top! a nice bonus!

♡ bonus: little blurb 

sight of you in his suit jacket, oh god. that thing swallows you whole but it’s too big for you so it hangs off your shoulders, exposing your skin, letting him see your thighs as well. Stan’s jacket, smelling like cigars, is over you in a way that makes his throat go dry. and underneath that beautiful little bra you knew would make his head spin, it’s lace and soft cups hugging you in ways he wished his hands were right now. your cleavage drawing his attention like a magnet. no, it’s too goddamn much for Stan to handle

he’s slouched on the armchair, legs spread wide, trying to keep himself from losing control. his eyes latch onto the soft lace of your bra, the way it cups your tits just beautiful enough to tease him. he looks so needy already and you’ve barely touched him

“Jesus christ, doll.” sounds like he’s choking on his own breath. “yer doin’ this on purpose, parading around in my jacket, showin’ off these tits like some goddamn pin-up doll, huh.” his lips curl into a smirk

perfect, just exact reaction you waited. you bite your lip, stepping closer, swaying your hips for him. you play it coy, of course. shifting the jacket like it’s just slipping off, letting one strap of your bra peek out more. “what? this old thing?” you smile like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing

and then he’s got his hands on you in an instant, dragging you into his lap because he can’t stand another second of his pretty girl being out of reach. his palms feels rough as they grip your hips, tugging you down until your thighs straddle his.

“you tryin’ to kill me, toots? walkin’ around like that, wearin’ my jacket.”  

your knees settle on either side of him, and his hands waste no time sliding up your thighs, over your hips, and straight to your waist, holding you close to him because this man is always starved for physical contact. his thumbs dip under the edge of the jacket, brushing the bare skin just above your bra

“Staaanley,” you breathe, your lips hovering just above his. your hands tangling in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan.

“No, no, no, don’t you ‘stan’ me, pretty,” he mutters, and one of his hands slips behind your back to unclasp your bra with a flick of his fingers, the other cupping your breast like he’s been dying to touch you all day. “you don’t get to tease me like that, wearin’ this fuckin’ outfit, and then say my name like some innocent little thing. you know exactly what you’re doin’, don’tcha?”

his thumb brushes over your nipple and then his lips follow, placing wet and hot kisses along your breast, sucking gently before biting down to make you gasp.  

“That’s it,” he groans against your skin. “wanna hear all those pretty little sounds you make, baby. fuck, you’ve got me harder than a goddamn rock.”  

he’s saying true because you feel the evidence of that pressing against your core, even through your panties. his free hand slides between your thighs, fingers pressing against the damp fabric and you whimper when he rubs slow circles over your needy clit.  

Stan grins as he pushes the lace aside. “you’re fuckin’ soaked. all this from me touchin’ your tits? jesus, doll, yer even dirtier than i thought.”

his fingers tease your wet entrance, rubbing over your folds before dipping inside, and your head falls against his shoulder, moaning as he pumps them slow and deep.  

“C’mon, baby,” Stanley brushes his lips over your ear as he fucks you with his fingers, his other hand still kneading your breast. “tell me who you belong to. say my name, and i’ll give you everything you want. everything. I’ll fuck you so good.”

you moan his name, digging your nails into his shoulders 

“Yes, that’s it,” his hand moves faster. “gonna make you scream for me, sweetheart. make sure you never forget who you belong to.”

[absurdthirst]

Hurricane Heat {Frankie Morales x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Hurricanes, dangerous weather, alcohol, fear, anxiety, sexual innuendo, the boys being menaces, oral sex (male and female receiving), sixty-nine, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

Comments: With a hurricane headed straight for you, you decide to shelter in place with the boys. Frankie's house being the best location to ride out the storm. Once the power goes out, the howling wind will push the two of you together.

A/N: @storiesofthefandomlovers and I wrote this as Hurricane Milton was barreling towards and affecting Charlie's area of Florida. This is not to make light of anyone's suffering from either hurricane over the past weeks or to encourage anyone to stay in the path of a deadly storm.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

*Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Hey man! I’ve got six cases of beer and twelve bags of chips!” Benny hits the door with a grin and holds up the two cases in his hands. “Let’s get this hurricane party started!”

You snort, shaking your head and coming to help him haul in supplies. The hurricane that is bearing down on your town is supposed to be a doozie and because of that, you had all agreed to hunker down at Frankie’s house. He’s got a generator and more importantly, a grill, so it’s a natural choice. “So what will you eat and drink?” You joke.

Benny snorts, “you laugh, but lemme tell you, Doritos have got me through a lot of shit.” He sets the cases down and you look over at Santi and Frankie while Will brings in another case of beer. “We got the ice in the cooler. Extra gas cans and flashlights.” Santi lists and Frankie pats his friend on the back, “we got it all covered. We just gotta ride it out.” He says and you nod, “the worst part is the air going. It’s been a heatwave. If I could guarantee AC and Internet, I’d be fine.” You confess with a sigh, glad to be with the boys for the storm. They are all highly trained and they wouldn’t put you in danger if they thought it was best to leave.

“We’ll grill up the steaks and make that five pounds of bacon I know Frankie bought.” Will snorts and Frankie shrugs. “You laugh, but bacon cures all ills.” He huffs. “BLTs, Bloody Mary’s, just eating bacon and drinking a beer while the wind howls. Good times.”

“Bacon and booze. The best combination.” You grin, “and I have my Bluetooth speaker so we have some tunes. It’s gonna be a bad storm but we are ready.” You nod and Frankie comes over, “I have the sofa bed pulled out for you. The boys are on the blow up beds.” Frankie says, methodical and wanting to make sure everything is ready before you shut up for the storm. “Thanks.” You smile, squeezing his upper arm. You’ve known the boys since you were their medic on their missions, serving your country with them by your side and you’ve been close ever since. You’ve been in love with Frankie for the same amount of time but the timing has never been right. You’ve been in a relationship or he has. You’ve yearned for him and the timing has never worked out for you. Even now, you’re both single and there’s a damn hurricane coming for you.

Frankie shifts and props his hands on his hips. “How are you doing, sweetheart?” He leans in closer and speaks quietly, sure that you wouldn’t want the others to hear. You are nervous about the storm, much more than you are letting on, he can tell. He’s spent plenty of time studying the way you act over the years. “I know you’re scared, but we will be fine. Even if the shit hits the fan, we have an evacuation plan and plenty of survival gear.” He tosses you a small grin. “Just think of it as a deployment.”

You nod, knowing he’s being logical but these storms always make you nervous. You can’t control them. It’s completely at the will of the earth and you hate that. With ops, you could control your destiny, account for all factors that could happen, and ensure your safety but Mother Nature? You can’t control her. You snort and lean a little closer. He’s always made you feel so safe.

Hugs have always been freely given and this time is no different. Frankie pulls you against  him, trying not to feel guilty for enjoying how you feel pressed along his body. He’s comforting you, not trying to cop a feel. “Come on. I’m almost done making that crack chicken dip you like so much.”

You grin, "you're too good to me, Morales." You enjoy how he holds you and you hug him for a moment before you step back, "come on. Let's finish up and get locked in." You wink at him and walk into the kitchen to finish getting your snacks prepped. "Fuck, Will. How much booze did you buy?" Santi chuckles as he looks at the bottles and Ironhead shrugs, "Publix had a bogo. It's a hurricane, man. Nothing to do but drink." You chuckle and shake your head, looking over at Frankie as he works on his dip.

“I’m going to put the extra gas cans out with the generator on the porch.” Will tells everyone, disappearing outside again to bring them in and you know that he will check and double check that everything is ready for the storm

You watch the news as the storm keeps its track and you are nervous now that you’ve locked yourselves in. You sit next to Frankie, biting your lip, and he slides his arm around you to rub your upper arm. “It’s gonna be fine, sweetheart.” You nod, looking at him before you look at the screen.

He ignores the sly grins from the guys, keeping his arm around you. They know how he feels about you. They’ve known from the beginning. Frankie doesn’t lack confidence, he has no problem going out and picking up a girl, but you are different. You are a part of their team, family in a weird way. If he took his shot and you turned him down, it would change the friendship you have and you mean too much to him. “Getting another beer.” Benny announces as he climbs up from his spot on the floor. “Anyone else want one?”

You shake your head and Frankie nods, “I’ll have one.” You chuckle, patting his leg, “you’re all gonna be wasted for this storm.” You look over at Santi who has Jack and Coke in a tumbler. “Nothing else to do. Other than fuck and I’m not Benny’s type.” Santi chuckles and Benny snorts, “in your fucking dreams, Pope.” You giggle and lean into Frankie, loving how he smells. Strong and capable. The musk has you crossing your legs to squeeze your thighs together but you are just friends and you cannot make it awkward.

He enjoys the way you curl into him. Pulling you close and humming. If it weren’t for the wind blowing outside and the guys here, he could pretend this is a cozy evening watching tv with you before he takes you to bed. “You okay?” He asks, checking in again to make sure you are good.

A few hours pass with pizza being cooked from the freezer, drinks poured and you are watching the news show the storm barrelling towards your state and you sigh, nerves twisting in your stomach. “You want another beer?” Frankie asks, sitting down next to you and you shake your head, “Valium?” You tease and he chuckles, “I’m fresh out.” You rub your cheek, “it’s the waiting that’s frustrating me. I wish it was here already so we could get it over with.”

“Ready for the dark already?” He teases. “The internet will be down and we will have to play poker or a board game to stay entertained.” He grins and jerks his head over at Will. “And that one is too competitive at Monopoly.”

“God and no AC. It’s gonna be killer.” You confess, “and you know I kick all your asses at poker.” You remind Frankie who chuckles and nods, remembering how you’ve schooled them during your time served together.

“We’re gonna play poker?” Pope asks as he smirks. “Strip poker?” Frankie rolls his eyes. “Why, cabron? So we can all be sitting butt ass naked while the only woman here is fully clothed?”

You giggle, glad that Frankie thinks you’d win and you nudge him, “why don’t we play Monopoly? I need a distraction from the storm.” You shudder as you look over at the TV to see the storm heading towards you. The boys nod, not arguing with you when they see you’re nervous and you work fast to get everything set up.

Frankie helps, wanting you to be comfortable and feel safe. The wind has picked up and the storm shutters are starting to rattle on the kitchen window. “Too bad they don’t have a helicopter playing piece.” Frankie huffs, picking up the ship. “I would definitely be playing that.”

You giggle, “I think the cat is the best one for you. Catfish.” You wink at him and he nods, taking the piece from you. The storm shutters shake and you shudder, nervous about the storm hitting you outside. You sigh and take a seat, calling the others over to begin the game.

****

“No fucking way. Pay up.” Santi demands from Benny, holding his hand out for the cash just as the lights flicker. “Shit.” You murmur, looking up at the light. “Dude, that’s not a hotel. I don’t owe you that much.” Benny argues and Santi goes to speak just as the lights flicker then it goes dark. “Well, fuck.” Will mutters, “maybe they will come back on.”

Frankie groans, knowing that it’s wishful thinking at this point. Power will be out for the duration and he immediately reaches for the lamp he had put on the end table and flicks it on before he grabs his headlamp. “We’ll give it a few minutes but then we start the generator.” Cords have already been run through the house to everything they need to power up to keep things somewhat comfortable. “Knew I should have bought one of those standing AC units.” He grumbles to himself.

“We will be fine. Hopefully power comes back soon.” You murmur, shivering despite knowing the heat will creep in soon enough. The power doesn’t come back and Frankie makes the decision to start the generator. The wind blows outside, rain hitting the shutters, and you fan yourself with the monopoly instructions as the heat starts to get to you. “Okay. I think we are done with Monopoly.” You sigh, reaching for the money. “How about truth or dare?” Santi suggests with a smirk. “Truth? We know literally everything about each other and we aren’t teenagers.” You scoff, gathering the tokens before you fold up the board.

Frankie glares at Santiago, knowing he would be pulling some shit in the effort to get the two of you together. All of them think that you want him, but he isn’t convinced. Normally, he knows when a woman is interested. “Why don’t we go to bed? Things will look better in the morning.”

The boys smirk, nodding at each other, and you don’t notice. “Sure, Cat. Let’s get to bed. It’s gonna be a long night and I’m sure we’d all rather sleep through this shit.” Will says and everyone nods. “I call dibs on the bathroom before you all go in there.” You declare and Frankie hands you a lamp. “Thanks.” You smile and make your way into the bathroom after grabbing your toiletries.

“Go to bed.” Benny scoffs as Frankie throws him a frown. “She’s scared enough that she might crawl in the bed with you.” He teases, Laughing when Frankie shoots him a bird. “Keep it up and I’ll make you sleep outside with the generator.” He threatens. Although he knows that he wouldn’t do that. The bad thing is that Benny knows it too.

“Just trying to get you guys together, man. It’s gotta happen. We are sick of watching you two make eyes at each other.” Benny says and Frankie scoffs, rolling his eyes in disbelief that you make eyes at him. You get ready for bed, changing into a tank top and shorts. It’s too hot to wear anything else, and you brush your teeth before you take the lamp and make your way back into the living room. “Bathroom’s free.” You tell the others, knowing they will want to clean up.

Frankie groans quietly when he sees your outfit. It’s nothing extremely provocative, but he still thinks you look stunning. All the guys go get ready for bed and Frankie changes into some shorts and a t-shirt. “You good, sweetheart?” He asks, coming through to check that .

You nod, “I’ll be fine.” You promise, offering him a small smile despite your stomach twisting with nerves. “Just - just nervous to go home and see how it is.” You confess, “what's gonna be damaged.” You bite your lip, “anyway, let’s get some sleep, baby.” You murmur and rub his shoulder, leaning in to kiss his cheek without thinking about the term of endearment.

Frankie hums and turns towards you, your lips brushing the corner of his mouth and he inhales sharply. “You- you come to me if you need anything. A distraction.” He manages, his voice rough and low.

His words make your stomach twist and you nod, “thank you.” You pull back to look at him. So many years you’ve hidden your feelings and tonight could be worse than all your nights spent on ops. The boys are ready for bed and you watch Frankie as he makes sure everyone is comfortable before he makes his way to his room. You settle into the sofa bed but it’s hot. So damn hot without the AC running. You toss and turn as the wind howls and the shutters shake against the windows. The boys snore around you and you huff, sitting up, and you decide to get some water. It’s dark and you curse quietly as you try to navigate the boys laying on the floor until finally you stumble into the kitchen. It’s so hot. You grab the lamp and turn it on, finding a bottle of water, and you decide to pull your tank top off since everyone is asleep, allowing yourself to cool a little with your bralette on.

Frankie wakes up the moment he hears someone moving. The drone of the generator chugging away mixes with the hurricane and honestly had become background noise. But he hears a cabinet door open and then the fridge. Getting up, he knows it’s one of the guys or you, but he wants to check. If it’s you, he wants to make sure you aren’t about to jump out of your skin.

You hear footsteps and turn to see Frankie standing there in his t-shirt. “Shit.” You hiss, still startled despite his slow approach and you place your hand on your chest. Your normally steely nerve is displaced by the storm. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” He murmurs, stepping closer and watching you in the lamplight. “Are you okay, sweetheart? I know you’re nervous.” His eyes dip down to where your hand is on your chest. “I’ve got a fan in the bedroom.” He offers.

You are tempted. It’s so damn hot. You press the water bottle from the cooler to your chest, sighing in relief. “I - are you sure? I don’t wanna - I’m sure you want to stretch out.” Frankie rolls his eyes which you see in the lamplight. “Come on. Cool down.” You grab your tank top and make your way into his bedroom, “oh God it’s so cool in here.” You groan, walking towards the fan.

“Sorry.” He swipes his hand over the back of his neck and chuckles softly. “I sleep better when I have a fan blowing on me. So instead of charging my phone, I plugged in my fan. It’s the only one I have unfortunately.”

You shake your head, walking to the unruffled side of the bed. “It’s your house. Your generator. Your gas. You are more than entitled to use the fan.” You promise and shift to lay down, still in your bralette and you sigh in relief as the cool air hits you. The wind rattles around the house and you shiver. “Too cold?” Frankie asks as he shifts to lay down next to you. “No. Just hate that sound.” You murmur, staring up at the dark ceiling.

“I know.” He hates it too, but he tries to not let himself think about what is happening outside. “You need to think about something else.” He offers. “What’s your craziest idea?” He asks, suddenly wanting to know. “Could be anything.”

You chuckle, “oh God. You cannot drag this out of me after tonight because I’ll never admit it but right now, anything for a distraction. I, uh, I want to have sex in a helicopter while it’s flying.” You confess, “everyone has a mile high club in a plane but that’s boring. I wanna have sex in a bird. Thought about it a lot when we were running ops.”

Frankie groans, cock twitching in his shorts. “Fuck yessssss.” He moans, not looking over at you. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself. “I have that same fantasy. Although it would be difficult to maneuver.”

“I know but if anyone could figure it out, it would be you.” You giggle, shifting to lay on your side to face him. He looks up at the ceiling and you bite your lip, knowing he doesn’t want you like that but right now it’s too easy to imagine. “Imagined it so many times when you were the pilot.” You confess quietly, keeping your eyes on him.

He closes his eyes, swallowing harshly and taking a deep breath. “Baby, you shouldn’t say things like that to me when you’re in my bed and wearing the sexiest little shorts and bra that I’ve ever fucking seen.” He opens his eyes and looks over at you, eyes dark with lust. “You have no idea what I’ve imagined doing to you.”

You inhale sharply, your heartbeat dropping into your pussy as you clench, slick from just being near him. “Show me. I want you to show me what you’ve imagined. Because I guarantee you it’s along the lines of what I’ve imagined you doing to me.” You promise, shifting closer to him.

Frankie takes a second, watching you to see if this is some kind of test or joke. When he doesn’t see anything but impatience, he lunges forward and grabs you as he presses his lips to yours eagerly.

You gasp into his mouth when his lips press against yours. Surprised but delighted as he pushes you back into his mattress, shifting closer to hover over you. You cup his cheek and eagerly let his tongue tangle with yours as the wind howls outside.

Your thighs part, letting him settle between them and press his hardening cock against your core. Making him groan into your mouth as his hands turn greedy, practically ripping your little bralette off your body to get to your tits.

He is immediately kissing along your jaw as his hand cups your tit, squeezing, and you moan, grateful that the storm is covering your noises from the boys sleeping in the living room. Your hands grip his shirt, desperate to feel his skin, and he reluctantly pulls back to let you drag the shirt from his head. You toss the shirt across the room, your hands sliding along your back, and you moan, “you are so fucking strong and sexy, Frank. Always thought that.”

He hums, taking the compliment when it would have been easier for you to have thought that about any of the others. You’ve chosen him to fantasize about and that makes him burn to make you happy that you wanted him. His fingers pinch your nipple and roll it around before he ducks his head down and wraps his lips around it.

You moan, sliding your hand up to tangle your fingers in his hair, his tongue lathes your nipple before he sucks on it, releasing it with a pop that makes you whimper. You rock your hips up to grind against his hard cock. He switches to your other breast and your hand snakes between you so you can slide your hand into his boxers and wrap your fingers around his hard cock.

Frankie grunts, rocking his hips forward and groaning against your nipple. You are so much more responsive than he ever imagined, your sounds sweeter. He flicks his tongue over the taunt bud and carefully grinds his teeth around it until you are whining his name.

You whimper when he switches over to your other nipple, making them deliciously sore and distracting you from the roar of the wind outside. You try to pump his cock, squeezing him in your hand as he releases your nipple with a pop to groan your name. “Lay down.” You plead, wanting to touch him.

“You don’t want me to eat your pussy?” He rasps out, nearly salivating at the thought. “What do you want, baby? I can lick your little pussy and make you forget all about the storm outside or you can ride my cock and see what’s louder, you or the wind.”

“Fuck.” You gasp at the filth from his mouth but it makes you wetter. “Wanted to suck your cock but shit. I need your tongue. You want me to sit on your face while I suck your cock?” You ask breathlessly.

“We can do that.” His grin is filthy and he licks his lips suggestively as he pulls away and flips onto his back. “Come sit, baby.” He coos, patting his cheek. “Always wanted to smother myself in your pussy. Drown in it. Bet you taste fucking amazing.”

You shift to kneel above him, dragging his boxers down to expose his cock, and you groan at the thickness of him. “Holy shit.” You murmur, “you’re gonna stretch me out.” You confess and he groans when you slide your finger along his length. “Sit on my face.” He demands and you push your shorts down along with your panties, naked as you straddle his chest.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” He groans when he gets the first glimpse of your cunt when you bend over. “Sorry.” You cringe slightly and rock your hips away from him as if you are embarrassed. “I didn’t know I was going to do this. I would have shaved.” Frankie snorts, shaking his head as he grabs your hips to drag you back. “I don’t give a fuck if you shaved.” He huffs. “You have a pretty pussy and I’m going to bury my tongue in it.”

You moan when he surges forward to slide his tongue through your folds. “Fuck, Frank.” You gasp and close your eyes as his hands squeeze your ass while he slides his tongue over your clit. The wind howls outside and you inhale shakily, reaching down to wrap your fingers around his cock. You love how he groans into your folds and you bend over so you can take him into your mouth. You flick your tongue over the head, the salty taste of pre-cum hitting your tongue and you swirl your tongue around the head before you close your lips around it.

He can tell that you’re surprised by his enthusiasm, but you shouldn’t be. Any and all of his girlfriends had bragged about his willingness to go down on them, but you make him eager for it. Wanting to show you how good he can make you feel and taste how you come apart for him. He groans into your flesh, enjoying the tangy taste of your cunt while you lap at his cock.

You moan around his cock, taking him deeper as you relax your jaw. He’s thick and stretching your mouth, but you love it. The storm shutters shake but you don’t pay attention as you focus on Frankie sliding his tongue through your folds and you take his cock deeper until you choke. It’s been a while since you’ve given a blowjob to a cock this big and you pull off to catch your breath.

“Don’t hurt yourself baby.” Frankie reluctantly pulls his tongue away from your clit to warn you. He knows he’s a lot and if you can’t handle it, he won’t be upset at you, “I’m still going to make you cry out even if you don’t suck my dick.”

His words make you moan his name and you wrap your fingers around him, pumping him while he’s slick with your saliva. “Wanna make you feel good.” You reply breathlessly, “fuck. Your tongue - it’s so good, baby.” You moan as he flicks your clit again.

He hums, knowing that you do make him feel good. Just letting him touch you is making him feel good so he dives back into your pussy with a long lick to your pussy and feels you squeeze his cock before lowering your head again.

You want to pleasure him, and distract yourself from the roar of the hurricane outside, so you take him back into your mouth, fingers working what you cannot wrap your lips around. Your jaw is stretched as you bob on his length, saliva dripping down into the coarse hair at the base of his cock.

He moans into your folds, toes curling when you swallow around him. It’s the best fucking blow job he’s ever had because it’s you. You are the girl he wants and everything you do is just amazing. He doubles his efforts on your pussy, wanting to feel you cry out around his cock when he makes you cum.

You moan around his cock when he pushes his tongue into your fluttering pussy. His mustache rubs against your folds and his nose nudges against your skin as he shakes his head. It’s incredible and you rock back against him as you relax your jaw. His efforts are not in vain as you get closer, thighs pressing against his ears as he works you over. “Fuck. Frank- oh fuck.” You gasp, letting his cock drop from your mouth when he sucks on your clit. “I’m gonna - oh God. It’s - shit. Fra-” You don’t finish your cry of his name as you choke and fall apart on top of him. Thighs smothering his face as you soak his chin in your cum.

The storm howls outside the house, but your sounds are covering them up. Making him groan ravenously when you start to shake and your pussy floods his mourn with a wave of your sweet juices.

You pant against his thigh as he works you through it, lapping at your clit, and you whimper when it becomes too much. You shift away from his face and wrap your fingers around his cock again. “Want you inside of me.” You murmur, squeezing him.

Frankie grunts, twitching against your palm. “How do you want me, sweetheart?” He pants. “You want me to be in control or do you want to ride me?” He knows you would never let him pressure you into sex to begin with, but he wants you to choose how you take him the first time. 

You let go of his cock and shift off of his chest, kneeling on the bed. “I want you to be in control. Show me what you’ve wanted.” You demand, shifting to stretch over his body so you can kiss him. “Take what you want from me, Francisco.”

That is fucking music to his ears. Gone is the worry, the softness. His jaw set and his eyes narrow as he wraps his arms around you and flips you both over on the mattress, eager to get you under him. “God, you won’t regret that.” He promises, his voice low and husky.

You stare up at him as he settles between your thighs. “I want you to fill me up. It’s safe. I have an IUD and fuck, Frank, I need you. I want you.” You promise as he hovers over you and you surge up to press your lips to his.

He hadn’t even thought about protection, but he trusts you. He knows you and knows you would never lie about something like that. So he’s kissing you back while he’s taking hold of his cock and sliding it through your folds to press against your entrance. Groaning when you nip his bottom lip with your teeth and he pushes inside you with a slow, firm thrust until he is buried in your pussy.

Your mouth falls open as he pushes into you, stretching you out, and you caress his shoulders until you grip his back. “You’re so thick, baby. God, so fucking good inside me. I need - I need you to move.”

He groans, loving how needy you are. Leaning down and pressing his lips to your before he starts to move. Right now, his control is threadbare and he shows that with the harsh, sharp snaps of his hips, pulling back and drilling into you again.

He seems animalistic and you love it. Your focus is solely on Frankie and you moan his name into his mouth as he slams his hips against your ass. “Oh fuck. I - I love this. You feel so much better than I imagined.” You moan into his chin and he squeezes your thigh.

He grunts in agreement, teeth snapped together and his brow pinched in concentration. Wanting to see how much you can take and greedy for every time your pussy squeezes his cock tight. “Fuuuuck.”

You tilt your head back into the pillow, mouth open as you moan, “oh shit. Yes. Right there baby.” You whine, rocking your hips up to meet his and the room fills up with noises of sex, drowning out the gusting winds.

He is spurred on by your breathless praise. The needy whine for more, making his hips plunge down again and again. He’s drunk on you, completely wrapping up in how you react to him.

You wrap your legs around him, needing to be closer, and you love how he looks as he looms over you, illuminated by the lamplight. “Wanted this for so long.” You confess breathlessly, squeaking when he adjusts his hips and thrusts into a spot that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

He groans, loving your confession. “Me too.” He pants into your neck. “Fuck, want you to cum for me baby.” He concentrates on that spot, hammering against it again and again and chuckling when you start to squeal every time.

He hits that spot over and over and it makes you squeal his name until you finally fall apart around his cock. You soak him, thighs shaking as you arch your back, consumed by an orgasm from the man you’ve wanted for so many years.

Frankie growls your name, hips stuttering and his pace grinding to a halt from how hard you are beating down on him. Your orgasm pushes him over the edge and he buries his face in your neck, painting your walls with ropes of his sticky seed as he cums.

You grip his back, your nails digging into his flesh as he rocks into you. Grunts muffled into your neck and you moan, loving how the warmth of his seed feels around you. “I love you.” You pant breathlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist, keeping him inside you.

Frankie whimpers your name, turning and pressing his lips to your pulse. “I love you too.” He promises. Even if you are just saying it because you’ve been caught up in the moment, he means it. He has always loved you. “So much, baby.”

You sigh, a smile on your face as your heart pounds. Maybe it’s the high of the moment for him. The stress from the storm and the first time you’ve had sex, but you feel warm throughout your body. “I think we are in the eye of the storm. It’s gone quiet out there.”

He listens for a moment, his head lifting from your neck. “You’re right.” He murmurs. “We are through the worst of it.” He promises, kissing you softly. “Are you still scared?”

You shake your head. “No. I know you’ll keep me safe. And the guys. Can hear them still snoring from in here.” You joke and caress his shoulders before you run your fingers through his hair. “I really do love you. I have for years. You’re - you’re the man I’ve always wanted. That’s why it’s never worked out with others. I love you, baby. I’m here and I’m all in if you want me.”

“You’re mine now.” Frankie promises. “The moment you wanted in my bed, I knew I was keeping you.” He reaches up and caresses your cheek. “We will work out the details, but I want you, sweetheart.”

You smile, kissing his nose and you whimper as he pulls out of you. “I’m gonna clean you up.” He declares and you stretch out on his bed while he grabs the lamp to get you a rag to clean up. Once you’re cleaned up, you settle under his sheets, glad to have the fan, and you curl into his chest. The winds are picking up again as the eye passes and you close your eyes. “Get some sleep, sweetheart. The storm will pass.” He promises and you sigh, listening to his heartbeat as you fall asleep. You feel protected and loved and safe which is more than you ever imagined when you heard the storm was heading your way. Yet here you are, you and Frankie together in the eye of the hurricane and you’ve never felt happier.

[unsuperingyournatural]

don't fuck it up

Javier Peña x DEA Agent!Reader

implied smut

dividers @saradika-graphics

Connie’s apartment was lit with soft amber tones, a record player humming some Fleetwood Mac in the background. The table was already set, candles flickering, and the scent of seared steak and garlic butter filled the air.

You were laughing over a glass of wine with Connie in the kitchen when the knock at the door came.

“That’s the boys,” she grinned. “Brace yourself.”

You turned, smoothing the skirt of your dress—not too flashy, but not regulation either. The neckline dipped just enough to catch the eye. And you knew whose eye you wanted.

The door opened and in walked Steve first, beer in hand. Javi followed, all swagger and cologne and that damned tan shirt with the sleeves rolled up just so.

His eyes landed on you and stayed there. Just for a second too long.

“Agent,” he greeted, smooth and unreadable.

“Peña,” you said, taking the wine Connie handed you. You turned away, making a show of walking back toward the living room with a sway in your hips. You could feel his eyes follow you.

Dinner was… pleasant. On the surface.

Connie talked your ear off about the embassy, about missing good American coffee, and her hatred for tropical bugs the size of quarters. You were happy to listen, happy to nod, all while your knee brushed Javier’s beneath the table. Once. Twice.

Then his hand slid to your thigh.

It was subtle. Light as a whisper. But deliberate.

Your wine glass paused mid-sip. You didn’t react—not outwardly. You didn’t dare give Connie or Steve a reason to look down and see exactly where Javier Peña’s long fingers were currently resting. Slowly, he traced a small circle with his thumb just above your knee, inching higher with every pass.

Steve was in the middle of a story about a bad bust, laughing as he mimicked a suspect's panicked Spanish.

You smiled politely, nodded, and bit the inside of your cheek as Javier's hand moved a fraction higher.

Connie leaned over, offering you another helping of potatoes. You reached to serve yourself, and as you did, Javier gave your inner thigh a squeeze.

You jumped—just barely. Your fork clinked against the plate.

“You okay?” Connie asked, glancing up.

“Mm-hm,” you said, smiling tightly. “Fork slipped.”

Javi said nothing. Just sipped his scotch with that slow, lazy smirk.

You retaliated.

Your hand slid under the table, discreet as sin, and found his thigh. Gave a slow drag of your nails, right over the denim. You felt him tense.

He shot you a glance. There was warning in his eyes now. Heat. A dark promise.

You licked your spoon slowly, meeting his gaze.

He shifted in his seat, jaw tight.

You smiled sweetly and turned back to Connie.

Later…

“I should get going,” you said, setting your empty coffee cup down. “Early meeting with the Ambassador.”

“Oh, boo,” Connie sighed. “But I get it. You know, we should do something soon—just us girls. Get out of these boys' war zone for a night.”

You laughed. “I’d like that. I could use a night without guns, dealers, or Peña’s smirking.”

Javi raised a brow. “I don’t smirk.”

Steve snorted. “You only have two moods—smirk and brooding.”

You stood, gathering your things. “Either way, I’m due for some non-work company.”

“I’ll walk her down,” Javi said, standing as well.

Steve gave him a hard look. One that said Don’t you dare.

Javi gave a shrug and an innocent smile. “What?”

Connie kissed your cheek. “Take care of yourself, hon.”

“I’ll see you soon,” you said, giving her a warm squeeze.

As you and Javi stepped into the hallway, the door closed behind you with a soft click.

Javi looked at you, slow and deliberate.

“Nice acting in there.”

You smirked. “I could say the same. You trying to kill me with those fingers?”

He didn’t answer. Just grabbed your hand, and led you—again—straight downstairs.

Clothes hit the floor in rapid succession.

Your dress was somewhere near the door, your bra dangling from the kitchen chair, his belt half-unbuckled as he kissed you like he was starving.

You grabbed at him, gasping against his mouth. “God, I wanted you all through dessert.”

“You licked that spoon like you wanted me to lose my mind,” he growled, palming your ass.

You kissed him hard. “It worked.”

As he dragged your panties down and reached for his zipper, he paused, breathless, eyes hooded. “Wait—do you really have that meeting with the Ambassador?”

You shoved his shoulders. “Javi.”

“What?” he asked, laughing.

“Shut the fuck up.”

You pushed him back on the bed, straddling his lap.

His hands gripped your thighs, smirking up at you with wicked reverence.

“Sí, jefa,” he whispered. “Como quieras.”

Then he yanked you down onto his mouth, and you stopped thinking entirely.

Upstairs…

Steve stared at the ceiling, arms crossed over his chest, blanket kicked off.

The thumping had started ten minutes ago.

And now? It was rhythmic.

He glared at the plaster above him, like he could will it to stop.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Then the telltale creak of bedsprings. Fast. Relentless.

A soft, breathy moan filtered up through the wall. A distinctly female one.

Then:

“Oh—fuck, Javi—”

Steve groaned and rubbed his face with both hands. “Unbelievable.”

He turned over, trying to ignore it.

He knew you’d been sleeping together. The way Javi looked at you when he thought no one was watching. The way you’d call him Peña with just enough bite to make it sound filthy. Hell, the moment you walked into that surveillance op in that black dress and red lipstick, he knew Javi was a goner.

A loud grunt echoed through the wall.

Steve grimaced. “Jesus.”

Another creak. Faster.

A sharp cry.

He turned to Connie, sleeping peacefully beside him, and buried his face in her shoulder like a man trying to escape the war zone inside his own walls.

The final thought he had before (trying) to fall asleep was this:

If Peña fucks up this operation because he’s thinking with his dick, I swear to God I’ll shoot him myself.

Si, jefa - Yes, boss

Como quieras - Whatever you want

[thegnomelord]

Ahh I love the food thing that you got asked <3 food can have such a special place in our lives it's so precious

Ya think Hound develop concerning eating habits due to Makarov? Due to the whole stressful situation

I just want someone in the 141 to cook him a meal, filled with love and care, maybe Hound is in the kitchen watching them cook it for his own security.

I just want him to have a nice meal 😔

-🐙

I do feel like Hound would have some food hoarding habits or just distrust about eating something he didn't make himself. It wouldn't be the first time he'd gotten drugged through food...

But the 141 making food communally would be a fun idea lol so here's a quick brain fart :D :

You feel out of place. Well, you're always out of place, but you feel especially out of place sitting at the table while Soap and and Gaz busy themselves by the stove, Price humming to himself to the side as he gets the mugs to make tea. Ghost sits next to you grumbling under his breath, both of you in 'time-out' — you hadn't done anything (save for not being trusted around anything sharp), it's Ghost that had gone and microwaved beans in the can. Now Johnny swears up and down the microwave is possessed.

Your eyes flicker between Soap and Gaz, watching them cook you don't even know what. The only British 'cuisine' you know of is the cremated steaks Price would sometimes make you before. . . that. But nothing the two are making smells nearly as bad as the charred hockey pucks Price would feed you and Simon.

"Hey!" Your brought out of your thoughts in time to see Kyle swat away Price's hand with his spatula. "Don't you dare cap! I'm not about to get rained on because of your bad cooking." You hadn't considered Gaz could take charge, too soft in your eyes, but you're surprised by how tight of a ship he runs when he's by the stove.

"Alright, alright." Price huffs while Ghost lets out an amused huff. He's not quite laughing, but you can see the subtle tremor of his shoulders in silent laughter.

That gets Soap to point a spoon in Ghost's direction. "Oh yer one te fockin' giggle. Mr. 'ah cursed the damn microwave with me beans'."

"Sod off." Simon grunts, but there's no edge to his words. Soap tuts, but soon enough starts off rambling about something you're not quite able to follow along to when your eyes once again focus on where their arms are, how they move, paying especially close attention any time they rest them by their sides (even though realistically you doubt they'd try to drug the same food they'd eat).

You still tense when you feel Price's hand on your back, only now noticing that you'd started hunching your back, your shoulders raised closer to your ears. "You're alright, straighten your spine, sweetheart." His voice is calm, his hand warm as he applies gentle pressure on your back until you straighten back out. "There you go, good man." He rumbles, hand going up to ruffle your hair before he pulls away before his touch can turn into stinging pain to your skin.

You blink as a plate full of food is placed in front of you. The food smells good and doesn't look like it had been cremated, made with care you don't deserve. "I. . ." You don't know why but your throat feels clogged, like someone had poured hot tar into your mouth and forced you to swallow, the collar around your throat constricting your breathing even more.

Simon's shoulder bumps into yours, "If you don't eat that I will." The childish threat makes you breathe out a small laugh.

"Aye, the bastard's like Henry the hoover, he'll eat anything." Soap supplies as he sits down opposite of you with his own plate. Though you get the impression he's talking about himself when he stabs a sausage with a fork and almost inhales the entire thing.

"Mhm," You grunt, taking the fork. "I don't doubt it." You stab a piece of black pudding. It tastes earthy, but the small coppery tang of blood sizzles down your nerves, but fuck it tastes good.

"Look at that, is it good?" Kyle chuckles as he watches your facial features shift as you swallow the food, his own face that of pride like he already knows your answer, but you nod your head all the same.

[couch-potato28]

Imagine being a Blue Lock manager! ⚽️

VERSION X.

(a/n: in honor of Nagi, I prepared his best friend’s episode with some mentions of him but nothing serious. Can’t believe they did my white haired king like that 😔)

Warning-none

wc: 1k

ALSO: tags @ttheggrimrreaper @irethepotato @ohagiyo 🫶🔥

——————

FROM THE PROLOGUE:

"Congratulations L/N Y/N! Based on your results, you've earned your place in Blue Lock as the manager of player number...

...14, Mikage Reo."

Oh, that name was just sooo…familiar. You swear you’ve heard it a few years ago, perhaps in a store, or was that at the nearby supermarket? Staring at the screen you wondered who this mysterious boy was before your friend elbowed you and whispered—

“Damn, you’re lucky as hell. Just got yourself the heir to the multimillion-dollar company, Mikage Corporation.”

Your head immediately spun around, eyes widened at the realization. This has to be a joke right, ‘cause why would someone like him be in this facility unless…you have hit the jackpot? You turned to your friend, both of you internally screaming while keeping intense eye contact as a form of silent communication. Your friend raised her hands that turned into fists to cheer you on as you slowly went out the door to get your things from Anri, happily bouncing down the corridor all while everyone else’s jaw was still on the floor.

Imagine being Mikage Reo’s manager, known as the chameleon.

——————

Mikage Reo who you spotted in the cafeteria with his gigantic friend next to him, munching on some steak. Straightening out your posture, you approached them with a small cough, making them divert their attention to you. Awkward and nervous, you introduced yourself with a bow, his purple eyes looking at you with intense curiosity. He did the same, giving you a small smile and a vague intro of himself. The first meeting was interesting, it pretty much felt like a job interview with the number of questions he asked—be it personal or professional—while you carefully answered each of them, occasionally taking a sip from your cup of coffee. However, your patience started to run out after the hundredth question—even his friend, Nagi had left—making you stand up and leave the room.

“Wait! Can you show me your data sheet?” he shouted, rushing after you. “…please!”

——————

•Reo who watched you like a hawk from the corner of his eyes during the first week, monitoring to see if you were actually qualified enough to be his manager. To an outsider, it may have looked like him silently pining after you, but you knew he was just observing your skills only to find—nothing.

•You were flawless from the beginning, tasks always done on time just as he liked, his preferences already memorized and you always adjusted his schedule if he wanted it. Not only that, you were strangely kind—you didn’t mind if he would dump you for his best friend, or if he had a bad day and was being a brat about it.

•Besides that, you were genuine. He could read your face like an open book, but never did he actually find any ill intent. You spoke your mind, argued over things, and muttered small curses if he was being annoying and he liked that.

•So after about two weeks, you seemed to have passed his little test as he stopped staring at you from a distance, or ask you questions out of the blue. Now, even if he did ask something it was purely for the sake of actually trying to get to know you better.

•Reo who often uses his rich boy privileges and it’s absolutely insane. Did you say the monitor room had some problems? Fixed with brand new screens and the facility got a technician. Damn, your favorite snack is out? No worries, the next day the vending machine is full of them with all the varieties in stock.

•Speaking of privileges, if you are mad at him, or he screwed up big time, he thinks money is the solution. It’s like a defensive mechanism against the possibility of you leaving him that makes the boy try to bribe you, or get you expensive things in return for your forgiveness.

•He also has some serious attachment issues and you gotta be gentle when dealing with it. It’s all about the right timing, and you can never mention anything bad about Nagi or he’s gonna get pissed. This is the hardest task as his manager but with time you become a pro at managing his crash outs.

——————

AFTER THE U20 MATCH…

•Reo evolves into someone else. He rethinks all his choices before and realizes that he can’t just depend on one person. He’s gotta work on himself to prove his worth—alone. And that’s exactly what he does.

•Early morning runs, late night training, self-monitoring, and analysis become much more frequent, and half of the time he doesn’t require your assistance. Reo becomes much more independent, and with your guidance from the sidelines, he’s practically shining. The fans don’t mention him as the heir or rich boy anymore but as Mikage Reo.

•You, his personal manager witness a 360° change and you don’t say a word. You keep up with his pace, working more than ever. Your player has a vision and is determined to make it happen, moving with a clear purpose, and not trying to impress anyone but himself with new tactics each time he’s on the field.

•Things change, and when he chooses Manshine City, and reunites with his best friend—the duo is back. All the hard work he’s done pays off during matches but you still try to remind him—individual goals make him rank higher. (=more money lmao)

• Reo’s possessiveness becomes a a minor inconvenience too. His insecurity rises since he’s surrounded by stronger players, making him even more clingier and controlling than usual. His attempts at trying to make you need him are still failing, but he’s trying.

•Loves to accidentally call you for help, stretching, water bottle refills, or anything really that makes you pay less attention to others. You don’t really notice though, shrugging it off whenever he interrupts your discussion with another boy thinking he’s probably just training hard and needs some help.

•Later on, you become an important person in his life during the time of working together, and he falls hard. Appreciates the way you show your support and love towards him, and he promises once he achieves his goal and the World Cup is in his hands—you’re gonna get the most lavish confession alongside a promotion with a long-due pay rise.

“Double the amount?” you ask, sitting on the soccer field after practice as he tells you about his dreams.

“Triple.” he smiles, making you laugh, not knowing what the future holds for the two of you.

[majeoeje]

Casual

Kabru x reader (gender neutral)

It’s hard being casual when you always find ways to litter little parts of you in my life

Warning: explicit

Unison gasp exhaled from both your lungs, it felt like your chest could be crushed by the tension alone. You could get off with the way he held your you by the back of your neck, it felt as if your body could burn away by his touch and he of course was well aware of this. You only wished Kabru’s piercing eyes wasn’t so fixated on you the whole damn time you’re trying to undress him.

You hate to admit that it made you a little nervous. You knew that he was taking your every little reaction into account. It made you feel somehow vulnerable. No matter much time had passed, you could never get use to it

“I told you not to psychoanalize me while we’re getting busy here, Kabru”

You were expecting a heavy teasing coming your way, he knew you were into his dirty talk, so he tends to be vocal during your intercourse, it was more weird to not hear him say anything.

“My bad” he quickly said, caressing your cheek ever so softly, before slowly dragging your hand to the button of his pants “continue”

He hides away using your crave for physical affection to his advantage. You would’ve probably skimmed through it if it wasn’t from how distant he seemed. He was trying to hide something. It wasn’t evident whatsoever.. but you could tell like he does with you that he wasn’t really into it this time.

Despite Kabru’s efforts, you retracted your hand before placing a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“Maybe not tonight Kabru, i don’t want to soil your clean sheets just yet”

the disappointment was evident in his eyes, but it wasn’t out of a want for intimacy on his part. It was for the fact that he failed to deceive you, he failed to control the situation, he miscalculated on the outcomes of your behavior. But most of all, he failed to please you.

You saw right through him. And it scares him.

“I’ll make us dinner, i was thinking steak tonight.” You finally broke the silence, distracting Kabru from his thoughts

“Feeling fancy are we?” He rested his head in the palm of his hand as he watched you get dressed. You hummed in respons giving him a wink.

As soon as you buttoned up your blouse, you waltz your way to his kitchen, which wasn’t far away considering he was staying in a cramp inn.

“You’re getting skinny, i need to feed you well” you had said as the sound of you preparing food filled his ears.

He layed there, still shirtless, the scent of his freshly washed sheets filled his nose while the contact of the fabric ignited multiple indecent memories of you and him. He gets addicted to the feeling of your skin pressing on his. It was the driving force of all your meetings. But he couldn’t say it was all physical…. At least on his part.

He reminisced upon your words just a few weeks ago in the tavern as he watched you cooked. He wondered if the weight of this relationship was equally heavy to you as it was to him, knowing well the scales were imbalanced.

“It’s casual” you had said to your friend, a pen pal that he had never met, who previously asked you about ‘that guy you were seeing’.

Your words felt like a pang to his head. Casual? Well of course it was.. It’s not like you two outright agreed to a commitment filled relationship.. but it’s natural to think you’ve begone to care for him by the amount of time you spent together. Was he really getting the wrong idea?..

“It’s not like this is going anywhere anyways” you said before continuing to drink your beer as your friend laughs

At that moment he could vividly imagine the scales were tipping down on him and lifting you up.

It bothered him that you think so little of him. But it bothered him more that HE was bothered. Just why the hell was he so mad? He internally screamed thinking of the implications, burying his face to his pillow. You didn’t pay any mind to his frustration, too busy simmering down the two steaks on his stove.

“Dinner’s ready!” you voiced plating two steaks across each other on his dinner table, even lighting up a candle for him.

As he sat himself watching the steam off the freshly cooked steak, and practically homemade fancy date was that he wondered…. Was this casual?

The thought to strangle you cross his mind. Why would you even go to this lengths just to fuck him on the weekends? Was he really just some guy you seek just for a quick sex? His curiosity burned him like an unending itch that he couldn’t scratch.

“Easy there”

You wiped off a smudge of sauce from the corner of his lips. If he wasn’t chewing so menacingly maybe he wouldn’t be so messy

“Thanks” he said shortly. He wasn’t even hiding his irritation, purposely clanking his cutlery.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong? I can tell you’ve been mad at me”

Kabru’s blue eyes looked at you piercing through your soul. That was probably the first time you ever said something direct to him, it felt breathtaking and frustrating at the same time because he could tell that your words were completely empty.

He wanted to say that you tidying his room for him every chance you get was far from casual. Bathing him that one night because he puked all over himself after being intoxicated wasn’t casual. The way you would cook for him every time you come over wasn’t something casual. Your stuff littering his closet wasn’t casual.

But he couldn’t. Because if he were to yell all those things to you and finally hammering some sense into you would mean he had to say that he wanted to be more than casual. He would have to admit that he genuinely enjoy your company. He had to be honest. And he might actually have to kill you if he ever does that

“Haha! You’re overthinking.. Maybe you’re tired. What about staying the night?”

“I was planning to anyways” you said, talking to Kabru always felt like you were planning a war strategy in your every move. Walking on eggshells would be an understatement knowing his analyzing skills. So it’s better not to press him.

The rest of dinner wasn’t quiet, though maybe you would’ve preferred that hearing his subtle questions to get you to spill your whole backstory once again. Your head hurts from dodging all his questions from shifting the conversations and giving lame excuses. You were more than relieved to go to bed.

“How’s your party? Those guys doing okay?” you asked, a lousy attempt on small talk on your part, recalling a hazy memory of you socializing with Kabru’s party at the tavern

It’s hard being casual when he had introduced you to all his friends

You snuggled close to him, his arms carefully embracing you. It felt natural. Like you and him were meant to be. He could imagine holding you in his arms every night in the future and he hates himself for it. He never knew meeting someone exactly like him would be both a bliss and hell at the same time. It was truly tiring to be at war in every conversation with you, but usually he doesn’t have to think much of it from how busy he was fucking your brains out

“Everyone’s doing alright.. we might go back to explore the dungeon in 2 days” Answered Kabru, you could feel his fingers playing with your hair absentmindedly

“Don’t forget to eat yeah? You always get so skinny after your adventures” he hates how you worry over him. And he hates how he likes it.

He asked to himself looking down to your now sleeping form. Your legs tangled beneath the his sheets, the one that you washed for him. He held you closer as he could feel your breathing fanning down his neck. Does this truly mean nothing to you?

Despite his inner turmoils, he held his tongue. He couldn’t let go.. just not yet.

Because only in these moments was where Kabru could pretend that you two were lovers holding each other throughout the night. At least he could have you in another way other than sexual in these moments.

The night went by faster than he initially thought and by morning, you were gone… as always.

Kabru looked around at the washed dishes, the clean floors of his inn, his neatly folded clothes, his organized closet… his place had never looked cleaner. Yet he was never more a mess. It was as if you had came to his life just to fuck with him both physically and mentally. May the gods gave him strength cause he might not have the self respect to not indulge you in your next visit.

But Kabru sucked it up and dragged himself to the market for supplies of the next dungeon raid. Rin and holm had been waiting not so patiently for him, scolding Kabru for sleeping in again.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been with that merchant again, you look a mess.” Rin says, her gaze scanned Kabru’s disheveled appearance up and down.

Despite his residence always being a mess, Kabru usually upheld a kept appearance. It helps him with gaining trust and connection from other people thus making it easy for him to gain information. Though this wouldn’t be the case after a night with a certain travelling merchant, you.

“You don’t need to worry about that, Rin” said Kabru as he smiled charmingly “i just accidentally slept in a little”

Before Rin could scold Kabru more, Holm stood between the two of them.

“It’s best if we start the shopping” he quickly intervenes . As Rin walks away Holm gave Kabru a comforting look

“It’s okay, just don’t be late next time” said the gnome, as he pats Kabru’s back gently.

And with that Holm catched up to Rin discussing what perservatives would be best to bring tomorrow. Kabru tailed right behind them as they talked. Least to say he was out of it.. occasionally giving feed backs here and there about the length of the trip or expenses, but other than that he was a little quiet. Not as quiet for them to notice at least.

It’s not like Kabru wasn’t a genuine person. He has good intentions and he truly is kind. But he was always great at masking. To hide his true emotions wasn’t something that he hadn’t mastered. But it all seems to get thrown out the window once he’s with you. It’s like you could see right through him as much as he could you and he could tell it terrifies you as much as it did him.

Two sides of the same coin was what you are. He never thought he wanted to be understood until he met you.

“Hey, isn’t that the person Kabru was seeing?” Holm voiced, despite Rin’s protest in trying to hide your whereabouts.

Kabru’s eyes suddenly drift to a small alleyway. You were talking to someone, that pen pal again that you were talking to a few weeks ago.

“You’re actually crazy” your friend laughed as if you had just told him something funny. And Kabru couldn’t help but eavesdrop your conversation.

“You know i can’t miss this opportunity.. this is a once in a lifetime!!”

Kabru pretended as if he were browsing the fruits nearby as he hears you talk, your excitement and fear basically pouring out of your words.

“How long before you leave?”

Kabru froze hearing your friend’s words, almost tipping over the basket in his hand. You’re…leaving?? For how long?

“Maybe in 2 days, i bet you’re going to miss me to bits.” You teased.

“Whatever, you’re the one who’s leaving everything behind anyways”

You weren’t coming back anytime soon. It was evident in your friend’s sudden serious tone. This whole conversation was a whole farewell. Kabru only wished that he could be half as accepting as your friend.

He stood there, ignoring Rin’s harsh stare knowing he was wasting their precious time idling by the fruit stall.

Because before your friend had continue to go on a rant on how you owe them a trip to the tavern you had said something so downright lonely he couldn’t shake his mind on the words you had let out.

“There’s barely anything for me here anyways”

What about him? He wanted to ask.

He was mad at himself for thinking such things.. it’s not like he alone was enough to make you stay. But mostly he was mad at you.

“Kabru!?” Your eyes widen upon seeing him, it doesn’t seem like he wasn’t standing there the whole time. You noticed him at the corner of your eyes as soon as your friend left. Holm and Rin thankfully reading the situation and continued their shopping, not wanting to get in on their party leader’s personal affairs.

Kabru walked calmly approaching you, honestly scaring you.

“So.. you heard everything..” you sheepishly asked.

“I’ve heard enough”

And of course you were off to a great start.

“I see..” you trailed off. Again, it was as if you were walking on eggshells around him. “maybe it’s for the best. I wouldn’t know how to tell you anyways”

“Just… tell me why are you doing all this..” Kabru’s voice sounded more desperate than he initially intended, it made you wonder what’s inside his mind.

It’s not like he ever escapes your mind anyways.

“A commissioner from the east asked me formally to be part of their trading association, it doesn’t get better than that now does it?”

“What about your job, you’re just going to throw that away?” Kabru’s words was starting to annoy you, and even he could tell that he has passed the thin line between being worried and nagging.

“Well my friend from earlier was happy to take over”

Kabru notices how you crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, he needed to calm down.

“Then what about your friends… your family??”

His more careful words just tick you off even more. You hate how he always hides his intention as talks to you. He dances between wanting to please you and dissect you. It’s especially frustrating now that you’re leaving and you can’t figure out what he was trying to say.

“Can you get off my ass? I know what i’m doing. And my friends and family couldn’t be more happy for me so why can’t you??” You spat, turning away from him, frustrated beyond all else.

“Because i want you to stay.”

You turned back faster than you turned around. His eyes were widen, mirroring yours as his hand find its way to cover his mouth, in disbelief of what he just said. It was basically a confession and he couldn’t deny it now.

His mouth open to correct himself, but the growing smile out of the corner of your lips made him swallow his words. Every trials that he thought to try and save himself was lost to the sound fastening beat of his heart.

“Kabru… do you really think that way of m- OW-“

He didn’t know what to do, so he just blanked and punched you in the face

“What the fuck was that for?!?”

You whined as you held him by the wrist, ignoring the growing bruise on your cheek, afraid he might just land you another blow to the face. Though what he said before was probably more shocking than any punch he could land you.

You let go after a few minutes of Kabru begrudgingly saying how he won’t punch you in the face again, you didn’t trust him but it’s better than the other threats he gave you if you don’t let go.

Despite that he had bought you an enchanted ice that was supposed to last longer, said the merchant. He did so that he could apply it on your bruise feeling A LITTLE apologetic for what he did. You find his scowl and how he tries to avoid your gaze quiet adorable despite the situation.

You try calm him down dragging his hand to the beach as a last effort ditch to try and lighten the situation. Perhaps a scenic location would cheer him up?

He sat next to you as he silently held the ice to your bruise for you. You still can’t quite piece together why he punched you in the face but you’ve had more violent sexual intercourse with him that makes it seem tame.

“About earlier..” you hesitantly started, finally breaking the silence. “did you… really mean it?”

You asked, he can’t believe how incredibly fragile your tone of voice was. It was as if you could break any second.

Though Kabru would gladly pick up your pieces and put you back together.

“Yes” he coughed, trying to brush his embarrassment off.

You could only laugh seeing his reaction. You didn’t know what else to do but laugh really…

Everything just seems unreal. The sun setting to a beautiful orange hue, the calm waves of the sea, the soft blow of the wind… but mostly.. it was him. everything felt too perfect that you were afraid you might ruin it. But despite that you couldn’t help but want to connect with him than ever. After denying everything for so long.. is it so bad for you to speak your heart?

“It’s funny how out of everyone in my life, i only waited to hear that from you” you confessed.

Is it casual now? Kabru asked to himself. When you only wanted to stay if he asks you to. He doesn’t want to wonder what it means anymore. He’s done playing guessing games, even if it cost him, to spill his guts out.

“Just please tell me what you’re trying to say..” he asked more desperately he ever had before. you could basically see hope all over his face.

You choked feeling the warmth collecting on your cheeks on the possibility of Kabru actually returning your feelings, it baffles you really that someone as breathtaking as him him could ever want you in any other way than for a quick relief, let alone harbor feelings for you, making you deny any accusations or any of your friends’ remarks. It was never going to happen.. there was just no way.

Yet the way he held your hand now could prove you a thousand times wrong. Maybe you were always wrong..

“I’m saying that i love you, Kabru”

(A/N: maybe it would’ve made more sense if i split this into a two part but like i spent too much time on this already so might as well 😂😂😂 anyways i listened to casual more times than i needed when i wrote this. Love Chappell roan fr)

[pricegouge]

Price’s bratty angel daughter when she finds out he’s been cumming in places that are not her:

oh you cum in tissue?? you jerk off to other women because you HATE me?? oh! oh! jail for papa!!! jail for papa for One Thousand Years!!

combining these so i don't spam the dash again (sorry, all!)

cw: incest/daughter swap. spanking. dubcon/noncon fingering. bratting. pov from nik's daughter but i didn't want to name john's daughter for all my beloved daddy price fans so she's called sweetpea and i'm sorry if it ever hits the narrative like a damn bowling ball cause i know you wouldn't call your friend that, really, but this was a bit of a challenge. MDNI

you hate to see papa in a bad mood. he wears it so harshly, heavy brow and flexing fist. dark eyes glinting as he stares his friend down from across the table. you stutter through an apology, for what you're not even fully sure, and papa sends you strained sort of smile, tells you it doesn't concern you.

"and why wouldn't it?" uncle john asks, mustache twitching as he works through another bite of steak. he leers at you, decidedly ignoring the continued pouts of his own daughter continuing on behind him. "never have to take your sweet little milaya over your knee?"

papa looks like he might flip the table, frowning between his own friend and yours. "never needed to. my daughter does not speak to me like this," he gestures broadly, as if in demonstration. your friend continues to sulk.

uncle john just puffs, glares at his daughter. "sweetpea only talks to me like this because i never have, either." he waggles his eyebrows at papa, shoots you another suggestive look. "so don't get too comfortable."

the thought makes you shiver, mortified. papa mistakes it for fear and places his hand on your knee, broad palm squeezing the majority of your thigh as he tries to reassure you. it does nothing to help, your friend's insistent whining still echoing in the room. 'i don't like her. why do you even want her? what can she give you i can't?'

uncle john's date had been more than accommodating, excusing herself with a quick peck to john's cheek even as sweetpea raged, hurling insults and demands until her words petered out into sobs and she'd gotten what she'd wanted - john wrapped around her on the couch as he cooed about how the woman would never be back if sweetpea didn't want it.

papa had kept politely distant until then, calling the prices back to the table before the food went cold.

'should send you to bed without dinner,' uncle john had scoffed, but he'd loaded another helping of baby carrots onto his daughter's plate and she'd thanked him with a watery smile.

'should belt her ass, is what you should do,' papa had corrected between bites of his own steak and then it was all over but the crying. (and the pleading, and the pouting, and the -.)

wide-eyed, sweetpea and you had watched the men volley back and forth for long minutes, tension rising the more papa insisted john discipline his daughter. the more john swore you'd put your own father through the ringer if he continued to coddle you the way he did. finally, uncle john admits he can't discipline sweetpea. says it with his greasy fingers hooked under her jaw so he can smile warmly at her. she returns it, cat that got the cream, her own smile slower in coming but just as warm -

until papa says he could do it for uncle john.

it shocks you how easily uncle john defers. 'whatever you think is best.' shocks you more how he doesn't change his mind even when sweetpea begins to thrash and wail, pathetic attempts to break papa's grip making your own stomach churn.

turns out, papa thinks 20 spanks is best.

you didn't think he'd be able to do it until he's got her skirt flipped up, has yanked at her panties until they've been swallowed by her cheeks so that she has no protection from his onslaught, palms smacking harshly against her rounded bottom. he's never been like this. it makes you sick. makes you shake and sob in fear. you shout for him to stop but either he can't hear you over sweetpea's shrieks, or he doesn't care. you're not sure which prospect is worse.

uncle john stops you when you try to run from the room, arm slipping around your waist as he pulls you into his lap. "only four swats in, sweetheart. you don't wanna be here for your friend?"

swats. swats are what you aim at dog noses when they're being troublesome. swats are what kill flies. quick, tight. no real force. papa is incapable of a swat, hands too heavy and brutish. leave stinging claps of skin echoing in the air, piercing even over the sound of sweetpea's wails.

the next strike makes her sob, or maybe that's you. you turn away, try to burrow in uncle john's neck, but his fingers find your chin like they did sweetpea's earlier, tilt your head back to the display before you.

"you'll watch and you'll remember. because i know your papa, and i know enough to tell you now - you ever act like my sweetpea did today, it'll be me belts your ass, no matter how tough he acts." you want to tell him he's wrong, that papa would never let someone hurt you. but then, you know that only twenty minutes ago, sweetpea would have said the same about him. "and i'm not as nice as your papa."

and so, you watch. tears on your face and squirming, but you do. silently count with papa, in russian. curse when he asks sweetpea what number they're at and she can't answer so he starts again. it's cruel, the kind of pain that sinks under your ribs and pulls, inspects all your tender bits for the most sweetest morsels and teethes. sweetpea twitches about, skin mottling, tears and snot staining her face. she looks like a grubby little bug, like he's lifted a rock to find her squirming beneath, afraid of the sunshine.

yet still he touches her. broad strokes paint her skin, the spiky crown of fingers wrapping down into the crease of her thigh. he kneads at her occasionally, tests the tenderness of her flesh. once, you hear her breath go thin and ragged, a shaky, unmistakable exhale. his next swat lands square on the seam of her and you jolt just as much as she does, legs cricketing.

"keep misbehaving, you'll get your punishment now," uncle john warns, but you're angled wrong in his lap, and when his hand thumps threateningly against you, it's not your ass he squeezes in apology. you try to swallow the little noise it elicits, but your throat is too dry, the resulting gulp audible even to him. he just chuckles, broad palm moving to cup your mound. "unless that's what you want?"

you shake your head, but it doesn't matter. not when papa has noticed, pausing as he rubs over sweetpea's rear again, barely even looking at how she squirms beneath him. "reward her for watching. being brave. will remind your parshivets why we're here, no?"

john just chuckles, a thin breathy thing that ghosts over your temple just as his fingers trace up your thigh. "whatever you think is best," he repeats, and you try to wriggle away until papa's voice calls to you.

"milaya. look at me." you wilt when you do, his dark eyes focused entirely on you for the first time all night, making your preen even as uncle john's fingers find your cunt, his groan of approval only proving your shame. "what number are we at?"

you blink, confused, and papa just tuts, gives sweetpea a harsh swat that has her trying to crawl out of his lap, held in place by the thick arm wrapped around her waist. you want to catch her eye, see if she's okay, but she can't rip her baleful stare away from where her father sinks into you, thick fingers sliding easily through your slick.

she looks on the verge of throwing another fit. looks too fucked out and tired to bother.

"what number are we at, milaya?"

uncle john pulls a gasp from you, clever fingers hooking against your spongy wall. "i - i don't know," you stutter, and cringe when he just tuts, fingers digging cruelly into sweetpea's ass again.

"from the beginning, then."