#most nights he wakes up crying and shaking

[nebulablakemurphy]

The Winner Takes It All (Part 2)

Summary: Moves and Countermoves AU in which the rebellion never happened and Haymitch is now mentoring his own child for the games.

Warning: 18+ ONLY MDNI Depictions of forced prostitution, a pregnancy resulting from it, and alcohol/drug addiction.

Part 1

“We need a minute.” Y/N tells Everest and Whimsy, once they’ve boarded the train.

Haymitch storms off in the opposite direction, his eyes cast downwards, unable to bear the sight of his son…his tribute.

Effie isn’t sure what to do either, excusing herself to her room.

Y/N shifts between feet, “make yourselves comfortable, ok? There’s plenty of food.” She offers, motioning toward the arrangement on the dining table. “Eat, drink-”

Everest sighs, “you can go, Mom. We’ve got it.”

Whimsy peeks up at her mentor, from the plush velveteen chair.

“Everything’s going to be ok.” Y/N insists, promptly exiting the train car to find her husband.

“You should eat.” Everest tells Whimsy, after the door closes.

“I’m not hungry.” The girl crosses both arms over her chest.

“It’s important to stay healthy for the games.”

“Why do you care? You’re just gonna kill me anyway.”

“I am not going to kill you.” Everest huffs, taking the seat beside her.

“Yet.” Whimsy bites out. “You’re not going to kill me yet.”

“Nobody really knows this, but I was named after the last word in a sentence my mom’s district partner couldn’t finish.”

“W-why are you telling me then?” Whimsy cries. It doesn’t matter, she’ll be gone soon.

“Because you’re my partner and that means something.” Everest insists, “I don’t want you to die and neither do my parents.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Look, giving you your best shot is a severe conflict of interest for them. But my parents are good people, you can trust them. District 12 tributes aren’t known for having a high success rate, but they were able to get Katniss out alive.”

“Even if you’re right about your parents, no one stands a chance against the sponsors you’ll be able to pull. The whole thing is rigged.” Whimsy whispers.

Everest leans toward her, “I think so too. But just because a game is rigged doesn’t mean you can’t win. All you have to do is understand what rules they’re playing by.”

“And what rules are these?”

“No holds barred. The winner takes it all.”

————————————————————————

“Haymitch,” Y/N finds her husband, double fisted in the bar car.

“Hi, angel.” He drawls, “shouldn’t you be fingering a tablet by now?”

“I need you.”

“I’m here.” Haymitch sets the alcohol down, closing the distance between them. “But there’s no way I’m getting through this sober.” He cups her face in his hands, “I need to think. Figure out what we can do.”

Y/N leans into his palm, nodding as she fights back tears.

“Snow’s expecting us to be beside ourselves, irrational. We can use that to our advantage.”

“What about Whimsy?” Y/N wonders. “We can’t sentence that girl to death.”

“You also can’t give her a fair shake.” A voice interrupts them.

Y/N startles, Haymitch pulling her tightly to his chest. Prepared to use his body to shield her own.

“Jesus, sweetheart. Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Katniss. What are you doing here?” She hasn’t been to the Capitol with them in years. Rarely makes it beyond her front door without crippling anxiety.

“You can’t mentor that girl and you shouldn’t have to. I’m gonna do it.” Katniss lifts a shoulder, handing an open bottle of blue spirits to Haymitch. “This one’s all yours.”

“Thanks,” Haymitch takes a swig.

“Tastes like shit, by the way.” Katniss cracks a grin as she exits the bar car.

————————————————————————

Everest hasn’t slept in his parent’s room for years, so when he wakes to find them curled up on the floor of his room, he’s rightfully surprised.

He sighs, sitting up to stretch, still in his father’s suit from the day before. Oh, that’s right; this isn’t his room. “Mom,” he yawns. “Dad?”

Y/N stirs, in her husband’s arms. Focusing her puffy eyes on her son.

She’s been crying, Everest realizes. Probably most of the night.

“Are you ok, honey?” She asks, immediately.

“I’m fine,” Everest assures her.

“Haymitch,” Y/N jostles him.

“Hmm?”

“Everest’s awake.”

He grumbles out a string of profanities as he drags himself upright. “How are you?”

“M’fine.” Everest repeats, “you didn’t have to sleep on the floor.”

“We wanted to stay close incase you needed us.”

This is his parent’s worst nightmare. The one they’ve been preparing him for since his eleventh birthday. One they will never wake from. “We should probably head over for breakfast. We’ll be in the Capitol soon.” He knows this trek well enough.

By the time they reach the breakfast spread, Katniss and Whimsy are already eating. Effie is powdering her face in the corner.

“Morning.” Katniss greets them, “you look well rested.”

“Slept like crap, actually.” Haymitch informs her, “woke up with a kink in my neck.” He plops down in the nearest chair.

“Yeah, I meant Everest. You both look like hell.”

“Manners.” Effie scolds her.

Y/N forces a smile as she sits, “thanks, Katniss.”

“You should have a drink.” Katniss suggests.

“I’m fine.” Y/N sniffs, “just need a little coffee.”

“Sure.” Katniss isn’t convinced.

“We should talk about what to expect once we arrive in the Capitol.” Haymitch is quick to change the subject.

Everest is seated between his parents, picking at his helping of eggs.

“When the train stops, peacekeepers will come in and escort you to the tribute center. From there you’ll be separated into rooms for your prep teams. They’ll hose you down and get you ready for your stylists. After the tribute parade, we’ll meet up backstage and go from there.”

“Then we’ll start discussing strategy for the games?” Whimsy suggests, flicking through slides on the tablet before her.

Katniss swipes the presentation closed, locking the tablet screen and all but tossing it to the ground.

Haymitch bites back a grin. He’s always hated those damn things.

Y/N scowls at them, collecting the device. “Some tributes find it helpful to look over the strategies this way and make their own notes.”

Everest hasn’t taken the time to look over his own yet. But he always enjoyed his mother’s notes, the way they felt like an extension of her. When he was growing up and old enough to stay home with Aunt Madge, while his parents mentored the games; Y/N would leave him his own slideshow. Pictures of them as a family with hearts around him, or little blue stars, she’d drawn with her stylist. His sisters are probably flipping through their own shows right about now.

“Can I see?” Everest holds out a hand.

Y/N allows him to take it from her.

These images are very different than the ones he grew up with, no hearts. Lots of stars though and annotations. It must take hours to update each year.

The computer generated bodies move upon demand, to demonstrate each technique from every angle. This is his mother’s love language, one other tributes couldn’t understand.

“This is really helpful, Mom. Thank you.”

Y/N flounders, only one other person appreciated this particular gift and he is long dead.

Katniss pushes away from the table, without a word.

Peeta Mellark left a gaping hole in each of them, although Katniss would never admit that.

The rest of their morning is spent in quiet solitude. Until the telltale hum of the train engine comes to an end. They’ve reached their destination.

As promised, peacekeepers do come for Whimsy and Everest.

Before his parents disappear completely from view, he watches them depart the train, hands entwined. Haymitch presses a single kiss to Y/N’s knuckles before they set off in opposite directions.

————————————————————————

Y/N knows the house she’s headed for, she could find it in her sleep. Tungsten Pruit took a liking to her back before he could have her. Sponsoring her tributes year after year, buying her tapes.

The first night Y/N was offered up individually, Tungsten paid a cool million for her. But he’s never hurt her, and for that reason alone, a night with him is preferable to some of the Capitol’s more…colorful patrons.

Y/N knocks once before he answers.

“You’re expensive tonight, Little Minx.”

“More or less than a million?”

“More.” He swings the door open wide for her. “Come in.”

“Is this new?” She points to the settee.

The man wraps his arms around her waist. “It is.”

“I like it.” She allows him to sway her slightly, from side to side.

“About your son…”

“Mhm?”

“I’d like to sponsor him.” Tungsten’s lips brush against her jugular.

“That’s very kind of you.” She swallows down the bile creeping up her throat.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?”

“In my room.” Up the stairs, down the hall, last door on the right. Illuminated by candle light.

Finnick Odair.

————————————————————————

Everest hears the steady spray of water and scrub brushes. Cleaning the tributes behind the curtains beside him, as he sits untouched; twiddling his thumbs.

Eventually a prep team joins him. Standing nervously, shoulder to shoulder, at the makeshift room’s entrance.

“Uh, hi.” Everest waves, “I’m Everest. You’re here to get me ready for the parade?”

The smallest of the three, a girl with long magenta hair, nods.

“Alright, well here I am.” Everest lies back on the cool, metal table, covered by nothing more than the paper gown they’d left out for him.

Anytime he moves they jump, gasping as they remove their hands.

“Sorry,” Everest clears his throat, “tickles.”

“Are you uncomfortable?” The older woman asks, “we’re under strict instruction to make sure you are safe and comfortable at all times.”

“I’m fine.” Everest blinks up at the ceiling, “just treat me like you would any other tribute.”

No one utters a word, until Vanity burst in some time later.

“Where is he? Where’s my boy? Is he ready for me?”

“Vanity?” Everest narrows his eyes at her. “You’re not a stylist for the games anymore?”

“That’s because you weren’t in the games.” She rolls her eyes, their natural color eclipsed by purple contacts. “I’ve styled you from the day you were born, you think I’m going to stop now?”

Everest smiles, with a shake of his head. “Of course not.”

————————————————————————

Y/N and Finnick are left alone to redress.

“See yourselves out once you’re decent.” Tungsten shrugs on a pale yellow dressing gown before vacating the room. Closing the door behind him.

“I’m so sorry about Everest.” Finnick murmurs, reaching for his bottoms and pulling them up over his hips.

“Me too.” Y/N steps into her dress, zipping it closed against her side.

“Beetee has control of the comm system-”

“I can’t listen to any more of Plutarch’s planning and plotting.”

Finnick hushes her. “It’s not just Plutarch.”

“Was my son getting reaped part of his ‘plan?’”

“This wasn’t a part of anyone’s plan.” He continues buttoning his shirt.

Y/N is silent, buckling the strap of her heels.

“I saw Honey at the reaping.”

She blinks at him, helplessly.

“She’s beautiful.”

“I know.”

“What’s she like?” Finnick hasn’t seen the little girl in person since she was four. The age when Y/N and Haymitch stop bringing their children along to mentor the games. He only gets to see Capitol coverage, a picture or two a year, if he’s lucky.

“Kind and thoughtful and funny.” Like her other children, “too good for this world.”

Finnick’s lips quirk upward, into a lopsided grin. “Tell her Finnick says hi.”

“I will.” Y/N doesn’t want to talk about it anymore “How’s Annie?”

The love of Finnick’s life never blamed Y/N for anything. Still watching a little girl grow up, with Finnick’s smile and another woman’s eyes isn’t easy on her. “She’s alright.”

“And Mags?”

“She’s as good as she’s gonna be, honey.”

“Do you know who has Haymitch?” How bad is it?

“Synchrony.” Finnick says. “She’s harmless, I’ve seen her a few times. She probably wanted both of you, but no one can afford you tonight.”

“How much?” For the star-crossed lovers of District 12?

“Starts with a b, ends with an illion.”

“A billion dollars?” Y/N scoffs.

“Snow knew you’d want to be together.”

How long is he gonna punish me for what I did when I was fifteen?

“I got you something.” Finnick reaches into his back pocket, producing a bottle of pills. “They’re new. I know you don’t like to take anything, but these work well. Better than the others, you can still think clearly it just suppresses everything else.”

“Did you take one?”

“No.” He shakes his head, “I wasn’t going to take one if you couldn’t.”

He wouldn’t leave her in that room to be flayed open with no anesthetic as he watched, perfect numb. He learned years ago to separate himself from his body.

Having only ever been with Haymitch, who she outright adored, it wasn’t a skill Y/N had. So Finnick forced himself to remain as present as she was. Even though she never asked him to.

Together they created life, one he couldn’t be a part of. Sharing a love for each other that doesn’t belong. Sinful and messy. Bleeding into everything they touch.

The agent in charge of their audio feed removes his headset. Disposing of the evidence and moving leisurely through the mansion halls to the presidential office.

Snow looks up at him and curtly excuses his advisors. “Clear the room.”

They do as they’re told, latching the white double doors securely behind them.

The president arches a brow, expectantly.

“The feed from the Odair, Abernathy room was disposed of, Mr. President.” Agent Barton Clares reports. “I know you’ve asked to hear it before hand, but I-”

“I trust your judgment, Agent Clares. That’s why I’ve assigned you to this task. You understand the delicate nature of the situation and what would happen if these…details were released to the public.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Their images would be shattered and from there it would be their word against mine. People would die, the system would collapse.”

Barton nods.

“Was there any other information passed between them?”

“They were strictly discussing the child, Mr. President.” He lies.

“Very well. Were you able to get more information from the Nicholo girl?”

Cashmere. “No.”

“I’ll arrange for you to see her tonight then.” President Snow decides, with a sickening smile. “Do try harder.”

————————————————————————

Everest doesn’t see Whimsy again until they are mounting up for the parade.

His suit will send up sparks similar to a stick of dynamite. Her dress is a canary yellow silk design, which spreads like wings as she opens her arms.

“Woah.”

“There’s already been a girl and boy on fire.” Cinna says. “But that doesn’t mean you have to dress as coal miners. Let’s make them remember you.” He winks at Whimsy.

“You’re sure to have all eyes on you.” Vanity adds. “Make us proud.”

Everest nods, stepping up onto the carriage and squaring his shoulders. He notices Whimsy nervously fidgeting with her gown. “If you need more room for the wings, you can come farther this way.”

She nods, “thank you.”

The horses set off down the runway at a steady pace. District by district, the chariots disappear through the archway and into view of the audience.

Whimsy looks to Everest, once they are visible to the people, “now?”

“You first.” She deserves a moment to win them over.

She spreads her arms, revealing the unique design of her dress and the wings they never saw coming. More applause, whistling, white roses falling from the stands.

Everest can’t find his parents amongst them, he tries one last time before hitting the button which ignites his suit. The material sparks, like the lighted end of a burning blasting rope and the audience loses their minds.

Oh, to be Everest Abernathy.

————————————————————————

The elevator doors open once they reach the twelfth floor. Revealing the penthouse living quarters of the tribute center. It’s more lavish than Everest remembers from when he was small. With crystal chandeliers, a sizable dining table, sitting room and multiple projection screens.

“Woah,” Whimsy marvels, gazing up at the vaulted ceiling.

Katniss commandeers the room nearest the entrance. Locking the door behind her.

“Why don’t you both get settled in? Get some of that make up off before dinner.” Haymitch suggests, rubbing circles into Y/N’s back as she leans into him.

Whimsy takes the room across from Katniss and makes herself comfortable. Leaving only Everest and his parents.

“Where were you while I was getting ready for the parade?”

“Out scouting potential sponsors.”

“There’s a line out the door to sponsor me.” Everest narrows his eyes, “if I’m old enough to fight to the death, I’m old enough to know what’s going on here.”

Haymitch sighs, “leave it alone, Everest.”

The boy asks again. “Where did you go?”

“There are certain responsibilities we have while here mentoring.” Y/N explains.

“That’s bullshit!”

Haymitch holds up a hand. “It’s been a long day, we could all use a good night’s rest.”

“Is that why Honey-”

“Keep your voice down.” Haymitch seethes. “You’re allowed to be angry. Hold onto that, let it drive you. But this is bigger than any of us. We do what we have to, to keep our family safe. It’s not your burden to bear.”

“I just want to help you.” Everest murmurs.

“You can help us by staying alive. That is your only job. Do you understand?” Haymitch is cracking under the pressure, beneath the unimaginable weight of it.

“Yes,” Everest nods.

“How long have you known about Honey?” Y/N wonders.

“I don’t really know anything,” Everest purses his lips.

“If anyone found out…” about Honey, “it would come back to bite all of us.”

“I wasn’t going to tell anyone, Mom.” Everest breathes, “I just want it to make sense.”

“The things we have done will never make sense.” Y/N murmurs, “but that’s for us to live with. Not you.”

He would argue more, under normal circumstances. But right now, he can’t bear the thought of causing her anymore pain. “Ok.”

————————————————————————

What his father said is true, about the anger as fuel thing. If it weren’t for the proverbial guillotine hanging over his family’s head, Everest would be storming Snow’s mansion himself.

He loses himself in the sparring, nearly injuring the career boy from district 1. Cashmere’s tribute. “Are you ok?” Everest attempts to help him to his feet.

“I don’t think you should be out on the mat.” The boy slaps his hand away. “It’s bad enough that you’ve got immunity, you don’t need maim us before hand.”

“I wasn’t trying to maim you and I don’t-” the boy is gone before Everest can finish, “have immunity.”

Whimsy approaches her partner, carefully. “Do you have a weapon of choice? Or do you intend to kill with your bare hands?”

Everest shakes his head to clear it. “My dad said we shouldn’t demonstrate our skills in front of the other tributes.”

“Well Katniss said that’s a crock of shit so…”

Everest chuckles, “of course she did.”

“I don’t think it really matters what you do or don’t do at this point, there’s a target on your back.”

“You’re probably right.” He admits, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I can wield and throw knives, I’m pretty good with a sword or an axe. Not great with a bow, but I can shoot.”

“Very victor’s kid of you.” Whimsy reaches for the nearby sickle. “Do you know how to use this pointy hook thing?”

“No,” Everest laughs. “Do you?”

————————————————————————

Despite her initial hesitation, after three days of training. Whimsy receives a solid seven at her assessment.

“Good job.” The occupants of District 12’s sitting room rejoice, huddled together on the lavish couch.

“Told you.” Everest bumps her shoulder with his own.

“And lastly, Everest Abernathy, from District 12. With a score of…” Caesar pauses for effect. “Twelve.”

“Twelve?” Whimsy turns to him. “No one gets a twelve! Not even the careers.”

“Good thing we’re allies, right?”

Y/N leans closer to Haymitch, whispering to him, frantically. He listens, with a blank expression, all the blood having drained from his face. Running his hand up and down his wife’s back, over and over again, too hard and fast to be comforting.

Everest feels the erratic movement of the cushion beside him before he sees it. “Dad?” He places a hand over his father’s to still it.

“Yeah?”

“Are you ok?”

Haymitch forces a smile, “of course. We should celebrate.”

————————————————————————

“Now Everest, you know I have to ask. How does it feel to receive the highest assessment score ever given to a tribute?”

“Good, I guess.”

“You guess,” Caesar laughs. “So funny, our boy.”

The crowd joins in.

“How did you do it? Have you been training? Planning to volunteer perhaps?”

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, Caesar, but I was raised by Y/N and Haymitch Abernathy.”

More cackling.

“Was I planning to volunteer? No. But am I prepared for this? Yes.”

“Some might argue that victory is in your blood.”

“I guess we’ll see.”

“You’ve been on this stage since you were in diapers.” Caesar paints on a somber expression. Or perhaps it is a true representation of his grief. “It seems odd to say goodbye without knowing if we’ll see each other again.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Everest lays it on thick.

Caesar nods, as tears roll onto his cheeks.

“It was really nice knowing you, Caesar.” Everest takes the man’s hand. “It was nice knowing all of you.”

The crowd begins a tearful round of applause.

“It was nice knowing you too.” Caesar places his free hand over his heart, to still it. “Let’s hear it, one last time, for Everest Abernathy!”

Everyone in attendance is on their feet. A standing ovation.

Everest squints into the audience, against the harsh stage lights and finds his parents among them. Clapping for him. Proud of him. Scared for him.

When it is over, he makes a beeline for them backstage, flying into their arms.

“We’re so proud of you, baby.” Y/N runs a hand over his hair.

“That was perfect.”

————————————————————————

Everest’s last night before the games is spent with his parents hovering over him. “I’m going to bed.”

“Everest, wait.” Y/N stops him.

“Yeah?”

“Remember what we said about the arena. Once you’re inside, there isn’t much we can do besides send gifts from sponsors.“

“I know, Dad. We’ve been over this like ten times.” Everest smiles, “I got it.”

“A-alright.” Haymitch stammers.

“I’m gonna fight like hell, ok?” Everest promises, looking between his mother and father. “I’m going to do everything I can to come home to you, but if I can’t…. I need you to know that isn’t your fault.”

Y/N stares at her son with glossy eyes. How did we get here, my sweet boy? How did this happen?

“You are the best parents any kid could ask for. You loved me and protected me and taught me how to be a good person. That’s a rare thing in this world.” Everest reminds them. “I love you so much.”

“We love you more.”

“I know! I know how much you love me. I know how much you tried to prevent this from happening. I know how hard you’re fighting for me still. I saw it all. I know.” Everest’s voice cracks, “I’m your son. Nobody can take that away from you, ever. You’re my mom and dad. Nothing will change that.” Not life or death, or anything in between.

Everest is sandwiched between them again; and he welcomes it.

“I have something for you.” Haymitch says, after a long moment. Producing a token for his son. One that had once been his.

Everest stares down at the flint striker, secured on a yellow metal chain which is surely part of his mother’s token. Pieces of them together. Just like him.

————————————————————————

At some point the Abernathys must’ve fallen asleep on the sitting room sectional. Everest wakes long before dawn to a clattering near the bar cart.

“Shit.”

“Katniss?” Everest rubs at his eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was out here. Go back to sleep.”

“Don’t think I can now.” He admits, joining her at the opposite corner of the room.

Katniss stares down at the bottle in her hand, “your mom probably has something to help with that.”

“My mom has something to help with everything.” Everest chuckles.

“She’s been a wreck, your dad too.”

“I figured.” He blanches, “take care of them for me, will you? No matter what happens in the arena… knowing they have you helps.”

“Of course.” Katniss agrees, “but you’re not dying in that arena.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you and what you’re capable of. You’re going to finish what your parents started. What I failed to do.” Katniss tells him. “You’re going to win the games.”

“No one ever wins the games.” His father taught him that.

“You will. You have to.” The girl on fire insists, with embers burning in her eyes. “This is our last chance. Our last hope…is you.”

Everest sucks in a breath.

“When you hear that cannon tomorrow, run as fast as you can. Don’t be a hero. Take Whimsy with you, if you can. You haven’t made any other alliances, which I think is smart. It’ll be easier to do what you have to that way. You aren’t there to save them. You can’t. You’ll die trying.”

Everest nods.

“Focus on your surroundings. Find water, food and high ground.”

“I got that part.”

“Good, go get some more sleep. You’ll need it.” Katniss squeezes his shoulder, leaving him to it.

Series Taglist: @lovely-waves @pookiei-bookie @derersketnoget @getawaycarsficrecs

[francixoxoxo]

Moon on the Rise

finnick odair x reader

You and Finnick wake up to take care of your daughter when she cries in the middle of the night.

Short post mockingjay fluff!!

When your daughter cries, Finnick presses a kiss between the plates of your back and shuffles out of bed.

Life in District 4 was a similar relief as cool water on sunburnt skin. Slow, but not dragging. Relaxed but never boring. Quiet, but comfortably so.

Not to say that having a baby was a rock in your still puddle. Anemone wasn’t anything like that. But she certainly added a little bit of spice to your day to day.

And your nights, naturally.

You groan, his shifting disturbing the perfect dip in the mattress he left. Rolling over just a bit you reach out blindly for your husband, your hand finding a healed scar on his forearm. He couldn’t see the pink as it marred his tan skin, not in the dark, but it was like he knew it was there anyway.

Finnick leans over you and presses a tender kiss to your brow. “I’ve got it, honey. Go back asleep.”

You try to, really. But something in you just won’t drift back off. It’s like the sea, lulling and toiling, crashing up against the walls of your soul, incomprehensibly strong. Something about being a mom, you guess. Even after Anemone stops crying, you feel it swirling in your chest. It pushes you up onto your arms, then off the bed.

You pad barefoot on the wooden floor, watching your step in the darkness so that you don’t trip on Finnicks messily discarded clothes or step right on a stranded pebble. Sand is and maybe forever will be swept through the fine grain of the wood, the smell of linen and sea salt clinging to the curtains and bed sheets.

You’d found a home, here. A place to not particularly forget the war, but find peace with it, you suppose. Find a kind of peace with Finnick.

The wedding was small. Closest friends only— Johanna, Katniss and Peeta, Haymitch.. It only seemed right that the people who fought alongside you to survive got to see you reap the rewards after all the strife. You’d sealed your life with Finnick under a woven and beaded canopy, the taste of saltwater on each others lips and sand caught in the train of your dress.

It was a miracle Anemone didn’t come sooner. You learned you were pregnant the winter after your wedding band found a home on your ring finger. Now that she was rounding on three months old, you certainly had your hands full. Finnick insists he wouldn’t have it any other way, and you can’t help but agree, even as you drag your weary feet down the hall.

When you peer into the nursery, flicking on the hallway light and leaning against the doorway, you see Finnick with your girl in his arms. His fingers graze gently against her round cheeks, then his pointer traces the slope of her nose. He looks up and meets your eye with the most intensely tender look you’ve seen in your life, eyes melting like ice cream on the hot boardwalk.

Finnick shakes his head, and you wonder with a smile if he’s actually choked up. “She’s so.. perfect.” He whispers, voice softer than the cotton Anemone is swaddled in.

Your feet thump quietly on the hardwood while you cross the room and lean on the armrest, Finnick shifts to wrap his free arm around your waist. His fingers find their way under the hem of your sleep tank, brushing gently over your ribs.

“She looks like you,” you murmur, admiring your baby’s long lashes brushing against her rosy cheeks. You wind your arm over your husbands shoulders. The light from the hall filters into the room, casting warm light over Finnick’s features and the side of Anemone’s nose. A soft chuckle parts his lips. “I see it.”

“Can you believe she wasn’t here a few months ago?” Finnick’s brows furrow down at the infant in the crook of his arm, taking in your words. You continue, reaching out to lay a hand over the small expanse of her forehead. “She missed everything, huh?”

Finnick snorts, laughter shining through his voice, “that’s a way to think about it.” His pointer finger runs along Anemone’s nose again, he mumbles under his breath and yet there’s an intense weight behind the soft tone. “She’ll never have her name in that bowl.”

You share a look. A huff leaves your nose.

“Why don’t we bring her to our bed,” you offer after the long stretch of silence. Finnick nods, turns his cheek to drop a kiss to your arm laying over his shoulder before standing. The movement rouses Anemone just a bit, but you’re relieved she doesn’t start crying again.

Finnick glances over his shoulder at you as he lays your daughter down, her little head just below and between your pillows. You get back under the covers but only to the waist, your nose inches away from the baby’s cheek. The mattress dips under Finnicks weight.

“I just keep wondering what she’ll be like,” you admit softly, a smile playing at your lips not exactly against your will, just without your knowledge. Finnick hums in agreement.

“If she’s as hardheaded as her mom, sweetheart, we’re in big trouble.” Finnick whispers, you try and stifle a laugh while you swat at him over Anemone. Keeping your voices down, holding back laughter like this— you feel a bit like a teenager again. Making up for lost time, you think.

“If she’s as annoying as her dad, we’re in bigger trouble!” You retort, lifting your brows as Finnick scoffs. His hand has found its way onto the slope of your hips, rising under the comforter as you lay on your side. “Rude.”

“You were first,” you remind him. He turns his lips down, lifting his brows as if to say, got me there.

Your attention shifts to Anemone as a quiet sound leaves her open mouth, her eyes wide open again. Finnick sighs, but you just hum, watching him offer his fishhook-bitten finger to clasp on to. She babbles and a heart of steel couldn’t resist the smile tugging at your lips. “Mona, Mona, Mona. What’ll we do with you?”

You can’t help but laugh at the corniness of Finnick’s musing. He already had the dad humor down, you had told him once. He had just shot you that golden smile and lifted his eyebrows like he knew it was a tease but he’d take it like a compliment.

With a soft sigh you let your eyes flutter shut again— it couldn’t be any earlier than one in the morning. The weight of Finnick’s hand on your hip is a comfort, you can hear Anemone’s soft breathing just inches away. Outside your window, the tide rolls against the sand and the moon lays on the height of its crest, its light filtering through the curtains and into the room. You wonder, faintly in the back of your mind, if you’ve ever felt this calm.

[preblacksmith20]

Two + One

pairing: landoscar x reader

genre: breakup reconciliation, they'll be fine I swear

content: Without knowing, your boyfriends breakup with you on the same day. You haven't seen or spoken to either of them in six months until you run into Lando. When things start clicking, Lando finally reaches out to Oscar and they both realize their mistake.

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

You stared at the street; your hands clenched by your sides. It wasn’t the leaving that bothered you as much as it was the returning. You could leave with everything you had but return with nothing. That’s what had echoed in your head before the night even began. And now, shaking in the alley, you felt justified.

Your therapist said those thoughts could be steered towards a more productive end. But she hadn’t been dumped out of the blue by both her boyfriends - on the same day.

Your boyfriends had been everything to you. You had loved them with your whole heart, fiercely and passionately. They had loved you in the same manner just with different ways of showing it. Lando always held you tightly when you returned from work, his hands framing your face easily. Oscar stayed up late just to keep you company while you read some new manuscripts. Lando prepared tea for both of you - kissing you both as he went to stream. Oscar bought you chocolates so you could taste test them after dinner.

They had loved each other. Oscar always trying to get Lando to eat a normal and healthy breakfast - or any meal some weekends. Lando always made sure to ask Oscar about his favorite music - finding ways to add the most obscure orchestra piece to a new dj set. They knew exactly which muscles the other one needed massaging - even if you were the one that did most of the actual massaging.

But, and you still blamed yourself for not seeing it sooner, they loved racing more. It was in their blood; it was their dreams. Time passed effortlessly on the track for them. Every second spent on their passion was worth it. That was the one thing they couldn’t live without.

Tragically, racing didn’t always love them back. It took their hearts and ripped it up. It took their souls, covered them in fuel, and lit a match. And your boys were happy to watch themselves burn. All in the name of racing.

Fruitlessly, you wondered if things would have been different if the team, the media, and the fans hadn’t pitted them against each other. Or if it had rained a little less. Or a little more. If someone else had crashed, at least a safety car would have been called.

But no. That wasn’t their fate. It wasn’t your fate.

So now you had to mentally build yourself up every time you got out of bed - a feat that had seemed impossible six months ago. You dressed, went to work, and survived. Things were better - you had told your sister. You weren’t lying, but you weren’t being as vulnerable as your therapist wanted. There were just less horrible days and more normal days. The joyous and warm days felt like so long ago.

The nightmares didn’t help.

You dreamt he couldn’t get out. You dreamt it was both of them in the car. You dreamt it was you flipping the car over and over again. The flames burnt your skin, they hurt your body. You would wake up screaming, crying, or just staring blankly at the ceiling.

So, you worked. You poured everything you had into your job - hoping if you gave it as much as the boys gave racing, it would feel like love. It would feel like something. Anything. Anything but the overwhelming black hole in your chest.

Seeing Lando at the club felt like a cruel prank. As if the world hadn’t done enough to use this man to torment your heart, it deposited him in your life as you were beginning to heal. On a friend’s bachelorette party, no less.

You had seen him across the club, nestled safely in a VIP section. The distance was more than enough, and he hadn’t seen you, but it was like all the air had been sucked from the room. He was sitting in some lounge with a girl seated next to him, beautiful as if made from starlight, and a guy standing in front of him, lean and dangerous as if molded from the god of War himself. It was outer body. It was like you were seeing a different timeline play out. It was everything you had missed and lost. It set your body on fire.

Gesturing to your friends, you stepped out into the fresh night air – or fresher than the inside. The cooler air hit your lungs like ice, and you took a deep breath.

It’s fine. It’s fine. You’re fine. Inhale. Exhale. He’s moved on. It’s time to accept that.

But you didn’t feel fine. You felt like you were back six months ago hearing him tell you he was leaving – that he couldn’t do it anymore. You were shocked, but you still understood why he felt that way. Secretly, you knew it would be fine. You would all be back together. He just needs space, you told yourself.

Then Oscar had wanted to talk.

Inhale. Exhale. You are fine.

He didn’t see you. You could get through the night. You go to step back into the walkway when a body collides with your own. Jostled, you fall back a step. Cautious hands instinctively reach out and steady you.

Lando had in fact seen you. And from the flush on his cheeks, he had run to catch you.

You step back out of his hold, and he lets his hands fall to his side.

“Hey.” He started to raise his hand and thought better of it. “There you are.”

You stare at him blankly for a long time. Enough for him to look away awkwardly and clear his throat.

“How have you been?” He asks, voice cracking. You glance up to see pain evident on his face. He always wore his emotions on his sleeves - something you loved about him.

“Better.” You answer honestly, your traitorous heart squeezing as he winces. “You? How’s your wrist?”

“Same.” He nods. Looking down at his wrist, he clenches his fist and rotates it. His voice is almost a whisper. “Healed. Thanks for asking.”

He opens his mouth, closes it, and looks away. After a soft exhale, he looks back at you. Tentative. “How’s Osc?”

You would have been better if he had just shot you through the chest. It would have hurt less. But you reacted as if he had, your pain bleeding over your chest and splattering on the walls.

“‘How’s Oscar?’ You’re going to ask me that? Really?” Your voice is too high, you sound like someone wrapped their hands around your neck. “How f***ing dare you.”

Lando jumps at your outburst. Now it’s his turn to look like he’s been shot. His brow comes together. “What? I hadn’t talked-,”

“You both left me.” You snap, so much for the therapy because this pain and anger feels enormous. Stepping forward, bold in your anger, you stab a finger at his chest. “You don’t get to ask me how he is doing. Breaking up with me - fine. I can put those pieces together one day, but let’s not pretend we are all on speaking terms.”

Lando’s brow somehow gets even closer. “What are you talking about?” His voice softens. “Wait, I didn’t-,”

“Please just leave me alone, Lando.” You plead, a stray tear trickling down your cheek. You hastily wipe it away. You push past him and walk down the street. He’s smart enough not to follow you. When you get back to the hotel, you text your friend you’re not feeling well – a truth – and cry in the shower.

—-

Later that night, Lando calls Oscar for the first time in six months. When Oscar doesn’t answer, Lando never expected him to, he calls again. No answer. Lando sends him a text.

emergency sos

pick up

“Lando what the hell do you want?” Is how Oscar greets him on the fifth try. He sounds tired. Lando checks the clock and does the time math. Oscar had to have been sleeping. He wants to feel bad but can’t, not when the feeling of guilt and fear are strangling him.

“Did you and her break up?” Lando asks, he can’t give him a second to delay.

“What the f*** are you talking about? Is this why you called?” Oscar snaps. “I’m going back to bed. Don’t call me.”

“Wait wait wait,” Lando pleads. “I’m asking because I broke up with her. Six months ago.”

Silence.

Lando checks and sees Oscar hasn’t hung up yet.

“Osc, please. Tell me you didn’t break up with her.”

He hears Oscar curse. “Yeah, I did.”

Lando covers his mouth to keep from screaming. “Osc, please tell me it wasn’t after Bahrain.”

“It was.” Oscar’s voice is barely a whisper. Lando barely hears it over his heart pounding. “Lando, did you-,”

“Yeah.” Lando sighs, running his hand through his curls. “I just spoke to her-,”

“Oh god,” Oscar’s voice sounds clearer, and he sits up. “That’s why she acted that way when we broke up. Is she okay?”

Lando thought back to their meeting. Her smaller frame. The hurt. The way she had flinched away from his touch, from him.

“Would you be?” Lando asks knowing Oscar will get it. Lando had been inconsolable after the breakup. He hadn’t been able to sleep leading up to the conversation. Afterwards, you had spoken so softly and told him to get some sleep. You didn’t patronize him or try to talk him off the ledge. You just gently lowered him back down.

He slept like a baby only to wake in the nightmare.

“No, I wouldn’t.” Oscar says and the weariness in his voice sounds independent to him being woken up at an ungodly hour. “I had no idea – I mean I should have guessed from how the breakup went, but I couldn’t fathom you would have done the same thing.”

“Pair of idiots, we are huh?” Lando tries to lighten the mood, but it falls flat when Oscar says.

“We weren’t always.”

“If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have called.” Lando admits. He doesn’t know why he needs to say it. Maybe it creates space. Maybe, just maybe, Oscar will hear the remorse in that sentence. “I just figured you should know since, ya know, you loved her.”

“I loved you both.” Oscar’s yawn stops halfway, his brain catching up to what he said.

“How could you not?” Lando replied instantly, it was how he always responded to Oscar saying that. Except they didn’t use past tense back then. It was present, full-force, overwhelming love.

Silence.

“I’ll let you go Osc..Oscar.” Lando says softly, not wanting the conversation to end. It’s the most they’ve said to each other in months. The paddock tense with knifes disguised as words being thrown around. But, Lando realizes, they were both hurting from the same thing. And probably being resentful for something – someone – that was no longer in either of their lives.

“Lando.” Oscar says as Lando’s finger hovers over the red button. “Thanks for calling.”

“Thanks for finally picking up, you muppet.” Lando smiles, hoping Oscar knows he means it gently. He means well. He still misses him.

“Um yeah.” Oscar sounds like he’s about to say something when he coughs. “Anytime. I’ll talk to you later. See you.”

----

You thought you were in the clear when your doorbell rang. You had gone home and put the incident in a box in your thoughts. You put Lando’s confusion away. You tucked it away nice and neat next to your breakup.

You open the door ready to tear into your comfort dinner when two figures stare back at you. One of which is holding your dinner in his hands – looking into the to-go bag with mild curiosity. His curls the only part of him you can see – but you know who it is. The other snatches the bag away.

“What are you doing?” Oscar snaps at Lando. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed but you do. The angry words the two had exchanged leading up to the breakup aren’t there. He sounds more amused than angry. “We are here to talk, not steal her food.”

“Talk about what?” You say. Both of them stare at you. You stare up at them and take them in, thinking maybe this is your Last Supper. A snapshot that captures your final moment surrounded by people you love. Loved.

“You.” Oscar speaks directly, eyes on you for a moment. He gestures to the two of them, standing together on the other side of the threshold. “Us.”

“And how stupid we’ve been.” Lando adds, hand squeezing his neck.

You feel like you’re back in one of your nightmares. Everything perfect. Until it isn’t, you think bitterly. But it’s them, the part of you that loves them wholeheartedly whispers, they’re home, just like you hoped.

“Fine.” You give a little but cross your arms and jut your chin. “But you can do it from out there.”

“It’s actually a really long story.” Lando looks between the two of you, catching Oscar’s glare. “What? Am I wrong?”

“No.” Oscar admits. He gives you a look. “But I’m sure we can give just a small run down from here first.”

“Go ahead.” You hold yourself tighter.

“Oh, easy.” Lando cracks his knuckles. “I’ve got this. We were pissed for the same reasons. Blamed each other for the crash and how the other one handled it with the media. We were making the relationship shit. We both decided to leave to try and preserve the other two’s happiness. Didn’t coordinate. We both thought the other one was pissed at us for hurting the relationship, not realizing we were both nuking you in the process. Did I miss anything?”

“Nice.” Oscar rolls his eyes, but there is a small smile, as if he missed this too. “Lando called me after you two ran into one another. We both talked to the race engineers, rewatched the on-boards, listened to the radios, and explained our statements to the media. The team essentially let us cannibalize ourselves – our relationship – by letting the other believe the other had done it all intentionally.”

“Why didn’t you do this before?” You asked, the easiest question burning your stomach. “I feel like you could have dodged most of this if you had talked to me! Or each other!”

“I don’t think either of us had watched anything beside the outside sources. I know I was too mad. I was caught up in it and Mclaren only fueled it.” Oscar sighs. “Until Lando called.”

“Darling,” Lando begins, eyes somber. “I’m so sorry. We are so sorry.”

They both blinked and you had thrown your arms around them both, crushing them closer to you. Having them close again, it felt like home. Your heart still hurt, you were still mad, angry, and deeply aching. But you didn’t want another second to go by where you didn’t get to hold them.

“You are not forgiven.” You say, tears streaking down your cheek. Both of their arms come to pull you closer. Oscar passing the food to Lando behind your back so he can put it on the window ledge. “I’m still so mad.”

Oscar looks at Lando and thinks about the second call they had in six months. Lando had called him at an appropriate time thankfully. It wasn’t as tense now that they were on the same page. Weird, but not combative. It was a start. There had been cursing, but also a promise. A shared mission.

---

To no one’s surprise, you cave. You let them come inside and take up their favorite spots on the couch. They don’t get to have any of your food – a small penance – but they make do. It’s weird when they sit on the couch. You had avoided using it for so long. Without them, it felt like an ocean.

None of you know what to do. How do you restart this again? Do you restart?

“I don’t think you should date either of us during the season.” Lando says over some noodles Oscar had heated up and shoved into his hands. “No don’t give me that look, Osc. I also don’t think you and I should date during the season.”

At some point, you fall asleep to the two of them finding a master plan. You think back to the tense evenings you had all spent before your relationships crumbled. No one was happy. No conversation productive. So, you all chose silence. It was easier. It was corrosive.

Piastri has gone off the line. Oh my god, he’s off the track. The turns. God someone get the safety team out. Can we see him? He’s not coming out. What’s going on down there? So sorry to the viewers.

You are somehow on the track. You’re running to the burning wreckage. Screaming his name. Nothing comes from your voice, but you’re sure if you get it out, he will be fine. You just have to reach him, and he will be fine. Faster and further. The car is somehow further away.

Your eyes fly open. Your hand clasped on your chest. Thankfully, the room is quiet.

How did I get on the couch? You think, a thick cloud over your head. Putting your head in your hands, you exhale. Getting up from the couch you stumble to the back door and push it open.

Staring out at the night sky, you try to shake the images from your head. That had been one of the worst parts of the breakup. You couldn’t tell anyone that crash still haunted your dreams. The two people you wanted to talk to most about it had made it clear they didn’t want you in their lives. It ate away at you.

“You okay?” Warm arms wrap around you and a kiss lands on your cheek.

Both you and the other body freeze. The night comes rushing back to you. Oscar’s eyes widen as he realizes what’s happening. He had been caught up in his own dream, waking to see you rather distraught walking out the door, and instinctively followed you – think he was still very much dreaming. How could he not? You were back in his life – the one thing he had been wishing for for months.

Your dream has you in a vice grip. But Oscar is okay. He’s in front of you. Before you realize what is happening, your hands are in his shirt and you’re pulling him close, crashing your lips to his with a soft, “Oscar.”

[willoryn]

First of all thank you for all the constant bangers 🙏🏾 I was wondering if you would elaborate a little more on how Lucifer having wet dreams would go? 👀

ME @ LUCIFER HAVING WET DREAMS

I do have a couple ideas. Sorry if this gets a bit long dbcnnc

Lucifer can't remember the last time he had a wet dream before you entered his life. But lately his dreams, which would range from nothing at all to... unpleasant, were rather different. It did surprise him when you started to make an appearance. He would lay down, expecting another night of painful memories or just a black void of nothingness. Instead, he found himself with you. Smiling, laughing, and doing all sorts of things his mind would conjur up. A lot of it was complete nonsense, as dreams tend to be. But they were fun. Happy. Joyful... something he welcomed with all his heart.

But then things started to take a turn... the first time he experienced a wet dream involving you nearly threw him out of bed. He was laid back on his bed and there was a body on top of him. He couldn't see the face. Their legs were straddling his hips as they rocked against him, driving him deeper inside. His entire body burned for stimulation that the dream was unable to provide him in reality... but still he craved it. He had to satisfy this ache. His hands reached up to grab hold of the person's hips and thrusts upward, making them double over on top of him and their face angled towards his ear to moan

"Lucifer..."

The voice very much, without question, belonged to you.

The shock from that was enough to jolt Lucifer awake immediately. He gasped and sat straight up in bed, his entire body was hot and shaking. He clutched his chest as he struggled to catch his breath. And his cock was throbbing painfully beneath the sheets. It took him a moment for his mind to clear from his lustful haze. He could still feel your body on top of his. Could still feel your hands roaming over his chest. And the way you felt when he was buried deep inside you-

God, he felt terrible. He couldn't be having thoughts about you like that! Not that he could help it. It's not like he could fully control his dreams. But it wasn't like that between you two... n-not that he would mind if it was, but that simply wasn't the reality he was living in. And he didn't want to be some sort of pervert who just had naughty dreams about you all the time!

Lucifer palmed shamefully at his leaking erection, trying to will it to somehow go away. But the attention from his hand just made it worse... he would have to tend to himself despite his immense guilt.

And that wouldn't be the last time.

There would be more dreams to follow where he would live out certain fantasies with you. His mind playing with different scenarios in which he would make love to you, or vice versa. The most painful ones would be the dreams where he desperately wished to know what you tasted like. His head nestled between your thighs, your hand in his hair urging him closer to your core... however, his brain wouldn't offer him such an honor as to put a taste on his tongue. But your moans were always so sweet. The way his name fell from your lips, breathless and wanting... it made him feel guilty for imagining you this way, but God, were you divine~

And yes, of course, your name frequently falls from his lips. Though, he doesn't know that~

His body would react accordingly. Most of the time, he wakes up right in the middle of you two making love. The pounding throbbing of his cock usually being the culprit for disturbing him, to which he would have to tend to if he wanted to go back to sleep.

Once, he was laying on his stomach thrusting up against the mattress, looking for any sort of friction for his neglected cock. His hands gripping the sheets as he whimpered your name against his pillow, dreaming that he was fucking you so deep. Your nails raking across his back and crying out his name, begging for him to fill you... he may or may not have successfully dry humped to completion that night. He woke up to quite the mess inside his boxers the next day. That was a particularly embarrassing morning for him.

And his moans are always so desperate. Little breathy "mmm"s and "ohh"s leaving his lips as his hips would roll against the air. His body writhing under a body that isn't there. But he wished you were...

When all this happens, he tends to avoid eye contact with you for most of the morning. Please don't take it personal. The man is still working through some stuff djxncnd

[whatev-i-guess]

Soap: What if we grow old together?

Ghost: I don't think we will live this long, Johnny.

Soap chuckling: Come on, don't be a downer. We can still dream, right?

Ghost staring at Johnny's urn: There is nothing left to dream about... All I have are nightmares.

[imaginedisish]

Lover, You Should've Come Over (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Get ready to cry. This is based on a request I received yesterday where the reader gets jealous of Jean. I tried to take this in a different direction just because I feel like this is a popular trope that has been done by many fantastic writers. It's also inspired by "Lover, You Should've Come Over," by Jeff Buckley. Hope you guys enjoy.

Summary: You've been pining after Logan since you joined the X-Men, and you're convinced he'll never love you back. He’s obsessed with Jean—always has been. Or...maybe he's not.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, Oral (f!receiving), fingering, PIV (unprotected...pls WRAP IT UP THIS IS FICTION!), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, f!reader/afab!reader, telepathic!reader, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan (kinda? yeah.), non-canon compliant (you'll see what I mean...no spoilers), cursing, angst, feelings, implied mutant trauma (kinda a given in X-Men), probably some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,197 sorry

Wanting someone you can’t have—it’s that crying in the shower, pulling your legs into your chest, screaming into your pillow kind of heartache. You’ve come to know the feeling intimately. It’s an awful, horrid, stomach-churning kind of pain.

But you want him. Despite all the pain, you want him. Logan Howlett. You can’t seem to keep him off your mind. For the few months you’ve been one of the X-Men, Logan has been a constant. He’s always there—whether it’s to train or just to talk. But you know he’ll never want you. You see the way he looks at Jean. You wish you didn’t. You wish you were oblivious to that sort of thing. But you don’t need to use your telepathy to reach inside his mind for proof—you just know. 

You keep holding on, savoring every moment, every interaction you have with Logan. You sit on the lawn of the mansion with him, watching the sunset. You’ll come down to the living room late at night to find him sitting in front of the T.V. and join him. Sometimes he’ll drape an arm around your shoulder. He’ll draw circles into your side as you drift off. You’ll wake up the next morning back in your bed, Logan having carried you there long after you’ve fallen asleep. 

You’ve decided you’ll take all he’ll give you, even if it means nothing to him—even if it's platonic. 

But tonight, you wish something would come up through the floor and swallow you whole. A void, a black hole maybe. That would do the trick. Disappearing would make everything so much easier. The second-best thing to disappearing is sitting in the kitchen of the mansion, alone, with a pint of ice cream. You decide to practice your powers, moving the silver spoon with your mind, concentrating as you dig the spoon into the top of the pint and into your mouth. 

You hear a warm, familiar chuckle from the doorway as the spoon lands on your tongue. You look up, and there’s Logan, arms tucked across his chest. “Wish I could do that.”

You can’t help but smile around the spoon as he strides over to you, taking a seat on the stool next to yours. You slide the spoon out of your mouth and rest it on the napkin next to the ice cream. “Hey,” you mutter, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

His shoulder brushes against yours. He’s so close it hurts. You try to shove the pain down and enjoy the moment. 

“Was hoping I’d run into you down here. Thought maybe you’d be in bed already,” Logan says, his eyes locked on yours. 

You shake your head, doing your best to keep that fake smile plastered on your face. “Couldn’t sleep.” 

You can see the sudden concern appear on his face. “Everything okay?” He asks, tilting his head to the side. Fuck, you think to yourself. Maybe he’s catching on. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, looking down at the ice cream. “Just still having a hard time adjusting.” It wasn’t a lie. You had always struggled with your powers, longing to hide, to shove them down. Your whole life, you were either a freak or something to be used—whatever was most convenient in the moment. The struggle between visibility and forcing yourself to be “normal” was an impossible battle. You were no stranger to being taken advantage of or being experimented on.

Logan was the first person who understood that—understood you. He made you feel seen in a way that no one ever had. It’s part of the reason you’ve fallen so hard for him. 

His hand is suddenly on your back, yanking you from your thoughts and back to reality. “I’m here,” he whispers. “Whatever you need, anything.” 

Anything. You wish he really meant it. 

“Thanks, Lo.” You smile up at him, letting your eyes linger on his lips for just a second before looking back down at the ice cream. “Want some?” You ask, nodding at the pint. 

“Only if you feed it to me the way you did when I walked in.” You can hear the smirk in his voice as he taps the spoon. You side-eye him incredulously. “I mean it. Wanna see you do it again.” There’s a husk in his voice, a shift in his timber that sends a chill down your spine. You try not to think about it too much as you pick up the spoon with your mind. 

You guide the spoon inside the pint, scraping the top, and lifting it up towards Logan’s mouth. He opens wide as you lead the spoon inside, his tongue hitting the bottom as his lips close around it. The implications of the moment don’t dawn on you until he’s grabbing the spoon with his hands and sucking on the metal. There’s something undeniably suggestive about this. 

Heat rises to your chest as you replay the image of him taking the spoon into his mouth in your mind. It’s so intimate, so domestic. And, certainly, something else—something that makes you tick, that makes that familiar fire grow deep within your belly. 

But—like always—the moment doesn’t last long. You wince, feeling someone itching against your thoughts, prodding at your mental shields, begging to be let in. Suddenly, there’s another voice in your mind. 

I gotta try that myself. You flinch at the sound, taking the spoon from Logan’s hand and shooting it across the room to where you sense the person’s presence. You turn around, and there’s Jean, resisting the spoon’s trajectory with her mind. 

It's almost pressing into her skull, shaking in mid-air, ready to break her skin. You gasp and drop the spoon, embarrassed to have registered her as a threat. “I’m so sorry,” you say, watching as Jean crouches down and picks up the spoon. “I didn’t know that was you in there, I swear.”

You expect Logan to stand from the chair and rush over to Jean, but he stays next to you, glued to your side, the palm of his hand resting gently on your back. “Jean.” His voice is firm, almost cold and harsh. “What was that?” You’re surprised at how curt he’s being with her, surprised he remembered that you’re sensitive to people probing around your mind, even if it’s friendly. 

Jean mutters a curse. “I was just communicating with her. I didn’t think she’d—” 

Logan stands, his hand still steady at your back. “Don’t do that again. Ever.” His voice is louder now, heavier. 

She whispers an apology, setting the spoon on the counter and walking towards the doorway. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you,” she says. “I should’ve remembered given your…” she pauses, searching for the word, “past…that it wouldn’t be a good idea.” She takes another tentative step. “I’ll leave you two alone,” she says, and she slips out. 

Logan settles back into the stool next to you. You’re shocked that he’s still here, that he hasn’t run away yet. You can hear him breathe—in and out—gentle, long breaths. You close your eyes and listen, the sound calming you down. You’re still expecting him to leave, to walk away, but he doesn’t. 

“You okay?” He asks, your eyes fluttering open, his voice hanging in the air. His head is tilted to the side, worry painted across his face. 

“Y-yeah. I’m fine,” you stutter, your voice cracking. “You don’t have to stay with me. You can go check on her if you want.” You nod towards the doorway—to wherever Jean wandered off to. 

“And why would I do that?” Is all he says in return, furrowing his brows. 

You put on that fake smile again. “I almost jammed a spoon into her forehead because she spoke to me telepathically.” You shake your head. “Don’t really think my reaction was particularly friendly—or something that good people do.” You break eye contact with Logan and look to the other side of the kitchen. “Plus, you two are…close.”

“Hey.” His voice is firm again, but gentle this time, reassuring. His hand slips across your back and rests on your waist. You’re so shocked by the contact that you almost miss what he says. “First of all, she knows better. Charles warned her about what you’ve been through. And second…” He trails off, smirking at you. “I’d rather be with you.”

Oh? Oh. He’d rather be with you. 

“I just thought, you know, you and Jean were…” You’re too embarrassed to finish the sentence and too nervous to hear him say the words you’ve been dreading most. 

He shakes his head, that smirk still spread across his lips. “No, it’s not Jean I want. Never has been.” 

Your breathing becomes shaky—your heart beating rapidly in your chest. “If it’s not Jean, then—” 

Logan cuts you off as he suddenly moves. His arm lifts from your waist as he stands, turning your stool around so your back is against the cold countertop. He’s gripping the arms of the stool now, caging you in. Your mind is hazy—you can’t concentrate with him this close. 

“You think I do the shit I do with you with Jean too, hm?” He’s towering over you, his head cocking to the side, his voice self-assured and confident. “Think I’m watching movies and sunsets with her? Carrying her to bed, too?” 

You’re overwhelmed, dizzied by his words, his size, him. “Just thought that—”

“Just thought what?” He cuts you off again. “That I didn’t want you, darlin’?” He brings his lips to the shell of your ear, one hand moving from the counter to your hip. “Wanted you this whole time,” he huffs, goosebumps rising on your arms. “Only you.” He presses a kiss to your ear, and then just underneath your jaw. 

“Logan,” you whisper. “W-want you too,” you choke out, your hands coming up and around his back. “B-but someone’s gonna walk in on us.” 

He’s ignoring you, biting your pulse point lightly and licking the pain away. “Let them,” he husks, refusing to stop. You instinctively bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, your nails digging in slightly. He groans at the contact, his chest heaving against yours. 

“One of the kids is catch us in here, or somebody else,” you mutter, his face still buried in the crook of your neck. “W-we should—”

“Go to my room.” He finishes your thought. 

“Please.” 

And then he’s picking you up from the chair, his hands under your thighs, grabbing your ass. You wrap your legs around his waist as he prowls out of the kitchen. He looks both ways as he crosses the hallway and makes his way to the stairs. There’s no one in sight. He carries you up the steps and down the hall to his room, practically breaking down the door as he swings it open and slams it shut. 

And then he’s laying you down on his bed, crawling over you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Wanted you in here sooner,” he murmurs, his lips just inches from yours. “Hoped you’d come over one night. You should’ve.”

His lips crash down onto yours before you can find the words to say. He’s starving for you, swallowing your moans as his hands slip under your shirt, his nails digging lightly into your sides. “So fucking beautiful,” he rasps against your lips. Everything is desperate and rushed, hands pawing at bare skin in the dim light of his room. 

Logan tugs on the hem of your shirt, rolling it up your body and over your head. He tosses it to the side as he sits up on his knees, taking you in. He curses under his breath, looking you up and down. 

“Logan,” you whine, arching your back. You need his hands on you again, his lips. Something. Anything. 

“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes, his fingers hooking inside the waistband of your shorts. “Gonna take care of you.” He yanks them down your legs, leaving you in just your bra and panties. 

He pulls off his own shirt, tossing it carelessly, letting it get lost on the floor. He settles back down over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand finds your waist. He slides up to the bottom of your bra, teasingly pulling on the fabric before slipping his hand behind your back—skillfully unclasping the bra with one easy motion. You arch your back again, the bra straps sliding down your arms as Logan tosses the bra to the floor, too. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, his hand tracing the curves of your breasts, massaging gently. “Perfect.” He captures your lips in another kiss as his thumb ghosts over your nipples, just barely giving you the relief you need before pinching softly. The pressure feels so good, so right, but it’s not enough. 

He draws circles around your nipples with his thumb, the sensation feeding the aching fire between your legs. Your hips involuntarily lift off the mattress, meeting his. “Need me that bad, huh?” He is always so incredibly cocky, even now—especially now. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and what to do next. 

Logan grinds his erection into your core. You can feel how big he is, the weight of him heavy against your cunt even in his jeans. You clench around nothing, whining his name as his strained cock teases your panty-clad pussy. “You want me to make you feel good, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you stutter, biting your lips as his hand leaves your tits and sweeps down your stomach, stopping just above your clit. He slides his fingers down just a bit more, feeling where your arousal seeps through your panties. 

“Already soaking for me, sweetheart.” The bassy timber of his voice stokes that flame deep within your belly. Without warning, he’s hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and yanking them down your legs. “Can’t wait anymore, pretty girl,” he whispers. “Wanna taste this pussy.” He kisses your belly button, leaving a trail down the rest of your stomach as his mouth travels to where you need him most. 

There’s something depraved about the way he’s crawling down your body, taking in every inch of you. He spreads your legs apart with the palms of his hands—his thumbs brushing against your bare skin, licking teasingly at your inner thighs as he settles in between them. 

He pauses, looking at you under hooded eyes. You can see the want—no, the need—in the way his muscles flex and how he works his jaw. But he’s hesitating, his breath hot against your core, sending another jolt of desire through your body. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your eyes searching his for his next move. 

He finally presses a kiss to your clit. “You don’t understand how you make me feel,” he mumbles against your heat, licking a long stripe through your folds and back to your clit. “No idea how long I’ve fucking wanted you.” You throw your head back, whimpering his name as he laps again and again. He’s starving, and you’re the only thing that can satiate his hunger. His tongue swirls around your clit, flicking it, taking it in between his lips and sucking hard. 

Your hips lift off the mattress and Logan quickly moves to hold them down. “You’re not going anywhere, darlin’,” he grunts against you, the vibration of his voice going straight to your core. 

His free hand slips up the inside of your thighs, teasingly climbing higher and higher, his nails skimming your flesh. He’s toying with you, leading you on, taking his time. His fingers finally ghost over your folds, exploring you, stroking up and down as his tongue laps at your cunt. 

Logan prods your entrance with two fingers, slipping in just a bit, testing the waters. “Please,” you beg, pushing your hips down in an attempt to sink his fingers deeper into you. He stops you, his hand still firmly holding your hips down, refusing to give you the release you’re dying for. 

“So fucking impatient, aren’t you?” He tuts. And then he’s shoving two fingers all the way inside you, down to his knuckles. “Such a pretty pussy.”

“F-fuck!” You cry out, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he sets a relentless pace. He’s drinking you in, sucking roughly, his long fingers pumping in and out with a vengeance. 

“’This what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asks condescendingly in between laps. You’re too fucked out to form a sentence, your legs trembling underneath him. You know he’s loving this—loving that you’re a wet, needy, whimpering mess. 

Your walls squeeze around his fingers, your swollen clit throbbing as he laps at you. You’re so close already. “Lo,” you call out, fisting the sheets of his bed. Everything in here smells like him: pine and mint and musk and tobacco and that thing that’s uniquely Logan. It’s all so overwhelming and overstimulating. You’re ready to fall apart, to melt into nothingness. “S-so close.”

He squeezes your hip. “I know, sweetheart,” he soothes, his pace unwavering as his fingers fuck into you, scissoring inside you, drawing you closer to your climax with that come-hither motion he does so well. Your walls flutter again. “That’s it,” he coos. “Wanna feel you come—wanna know what it tastes like.” He licks harder, faster. “Let go for me, darlin’.” 

He pushes you over the edge, pleasure warming your belly as you let go. It washes over you in waves, his fingers still pumping in and out, his tongue still hanging on to the taste of you. You ride it out, his thumb brushing your hip, coaxing you through it. His fingers slip out of your cunt, but his head is still buried between your legs. You shudder as he licks long, slow stripes through your folds. 

“So fucking sweet,” he growls, still starving for more. “Not done with you yet.”

Fuck. 

But you need more—need his cock deep inside you, pounding into you. You need him in front of you, his lips on yours. 

“Logan,” you whine, your voice shaky and trembling just like the rest of your body. He finally lifts his head, his hair a disheveled mess, your juices glistening on his lips and his chin. The sight of him makes your breath hitch in your throat. There’s a feral, needy look in his eyes. He’s starving for more of you, and you’re not quite sure he’ll ever get enough. 

But he can see your chest heaving and the desire in your own eyes. He knows what you need—he always does. He sits up on his knees, staring at you while he slowly unbuckles his belt. The tension is palpable, the clinking of his belt against the hardwood floors cutting through it like a hot knife—the only sounds the melding of your quick breaths and the shuffling of bed sheets as Logan finally comes up to meet you. 

He's balancing on his forearm as he unbuttons his jeans, undoing the zipper and shoving the denim and his boxers down his legs. You swallow at the sight of his cock springing against his stomach. You had felt his erection before, but he is far bigger than you ever anticipated. 

With one hand on his cock, he lowers himself in between your thighs. You instinctually spread your legs for him, inviting him in. He nudges against your entrance, taking his time. 

His forehead meets yours, your chests flush against each other’s, panting in sync. You’re both waiting with bated breath, his tip slipping inside, but stopping short before going any farther. 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Thought I’d never have you,” he confesses, pushing his tip a bit further in. “Would’ve given up anything for this. Would’ve waited forever.”

“You don’t have to,” you murmur.  “I’m right here. I’m yours.” 

“Mine?”

“All yours.”

And then he’s pushing deep inside you, down to the hilt, bottoming out. He swallows your moans with a kiss, biting your lip, drawing blood, and licking it away. “All fucking mine.” He stays buried inside you, unmoving. “Wanna stay inside you forever, sweetheart,” he growls, your heart bursting at the thought.

He pulls himself all the way out and all the way back in, stretching you out, working you open. You look down in between your bodies and watch as his cock disappears inside of you. “Feels s-so fucking good,” you stammer, already drunk off him. 

“Like watching me fuck into you?” Logan husks, picking up his pace, his hips snapping into yours. 

“Y-yes,” you whimper. His muscles flex as he ruts into you. He takes the hand that was on his cock and brings it in between your bodies, his fingertips quickly finding your clit and giving it a soft pinch. Your back arches off the mattress at the sensation. 

Logan hums at your reaction. “So sensitive,” he groans. “Taking me so good, sweetheart.” You can feel him losing control as he rams into you, his thrusts growing harder with each pump of his cock. He’s drawing firm, fast circles into your core. 

It’s all too much, him, his cock, his fingers. Your skin is on fire, your nipples pushing against his chest—the friction absolutely delicious. You’re already so close, just a few steps away from the ledge, and you’re ready to fall. 

“Know you’re close, darlin’,” Logan moans in between kisses. “Can feel you squeezing me.” 

You hum in response, but Logan refuses to let up. His pace is beyond brutal, pounding into you over and over again, his fingers working your clit in tandem. Your muscles contract around him, gripping tightly. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “So fucking tight, so fucking warm.” His praises are more than you can handle. “You gonna come on my cock, just like this?” 

“Yes, fuck, Logan!” You’re a babbling mess, his name the only thing on your mind, on your lips, hanging in the air like it’s a sacred prayer. Everything is him, and it always has been. In this moment and in every other, he is your end and your beginning. 

 “Let go for me, sweetheart. Know you can do it for me.” His deep voice is all you need to walk you through it. You’re breaking down, coming on his cock, the pleasure coursing through your veins, spreading like an untamable fire. 

He’s stroking your clit long after you’ve come, still snapping his hips into yours, still working up towards his own orgasm. His pace is getting sloppier, but he shows no signs of stopping. You can feel yourself growing overstimulated, his cock rubbing against your walls, his fingers circling your clit. “S’too much,” you whine, your nails digging into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. 

Logan presses himself closer to you, as close as he possibly can be. “You’ve got one more in you, sweetheart,” he coaxes, not letting up. “Know you can take it.”

You’re breathless, clinging onto him helplessly. You’re clamping down on him again, taking him deeper than you did before. He’s hitting that sweet spot with every thrust. “Lo,” you whimper. “I’m gonna—”

“I know, darlin’,” he grunts. You can feel him throbbing inside you. “Let it happen, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.” 

The tension is snapping again, breaking in half as he pulls another orgasm from you. You shudder as you come for a third time, overstimulated and beyond fucked out. You know he’s close behind, his hips slowing down, his forehead pressed against yours. He slips his hand away from your clit and around your back, pulling you closer to his chest. It’s so intimate, so perfect. 

“F-fuck,” he mumbles. “Where do you want me to—”

You hold him closer. “Stay,” you whisper. “Want you inside. Wanna feel you come.”

“Oh fuck,” he mutters, plunging deep inside you, his muscles tensing as he fills you up, your name on his lips. His thrusts slow, pumping in and out every now and then before finally stopping. 

You stay like this for a few minutes, his arm keeping you tight against his chest, his cock still buried inside you and your foreheads still pressed together. 

He brings a hand up to your cheek, his thumb brushing gently across your skin. You sigh, your eyes fluttering open and closed. 

He shakes his head. “I always wanted you,” he says, his voice low and raspy. “The whole time. It was only ever you.” 

His words could make you cry. It’s everything you’ve ever hoped to hear. You smile, his hand finding its way to the crook of your neck, his fingers lightly stroking your sensitive skin. “Can’t believe I didn’t see it,” you breathe, your voice laden with sleepiness. “I never knew. Thought you’d never want me.”

“I’ll always want you.” His cock finally slips out of you, leaving you feeling empty. His legs tangle with yours, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “Would’ve waited forever for you, darlin’.”

“Forever?”

“Longer.”

[urmum-lovesme]

Dad!Rafe and late night wake ups...

The room was pitch black, except for the faint glow of the street lights outside Tannyhill, which gently seeped into the room through the blinds. Y/n stirred first, groaning softly as the sound of the baby’s cries filtered through the monitor into the silence of their bedroom.

“She’s up” 

Y/n mumbled, burying her face into her pillow. Motherhood had been the most beautiful thing she’d ever experienced, every moment with their baby, every tiny coo, soft sigh, or fleeting smile, felt like magic, a love so profound it stole her breath. It filled her with a joy so overwhelming, that sometimes she found herself crying tears of gratitude just holding her. But as much as her heart was full, her body was weary. The late nights, the constant feeds, the endless cycle of changing, soothing, and rocking had started to wear her down in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She was more tired than she’d ever been in her life. Y/n let out a long sigh, pressing her cheek against the cool silk fabric of the pillow, she wanted to move- knew she had to- but the weight of tiredness anchored her to the mattress. Rafe shifted beside her, the bed creaking under his weight. 

“I’ve got it” 

He said, his voice thick with sleep. He blinked a few times, scrubbing a hand down his face, letting out a low groan, before rolling out of bed. Y/n murmured, already half-asleep again.

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, go back to sleep.”

Rafe padded down the hall, his steps heavy with exhaustion. He stepped into the nursery, the soft glow of the nightlight casting a comforting warmth over the room. The baby’s whimpers echoed through the stillness, her little body squirming restlessly in her crib. Rafe moved quickly, used to the familiar route to the kitchen and back to the nursery. He set the bottle, which he’d just prepared, down on the changing table and gently reached for her, her cries growing louder as he picked her up into his arms. 

“Hey baby girl,” he whispered, his voice soft and soothing. 

“What’s the matter, hmm?”

She quieted a little at the warmth of her father's embrace but still whined slightly, looking up at him with wide eyes. Rafe smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of her head, 

“Let’s get you fed.” 

He murmured, cradling her against his bare chest as he walked over to the changing table. He moved to offer her the bottle, but as he tilted it toward her lips, she turned her head away stubbornly, a small whimper escaping her. Rafe blinked in surprise, holding the bottle closer and gently coaxing her to take it. 

“Come on, sweet girl,” he murmured, his fingers brushing lightly over her cheek, “it’ll make you feel better.” She turned her head again, the tiny furrow in her brow deepening as she whimpered louder. Rafe’s shoulders sagged slightly at her refusal. 

“Stubborn, just like your mommy huh?” 

He chuckled softly, shaking his head, though the faintest feeling of worry lingered in his chest as she let out another whine. He tried again, holding the bottle gently in her direction, but she pushed away again, her tiny hands flailing in frustration as her whines grew louder. Rafe shushed the baby, his voice calming, but there was a hint of concern underneath. He shifted her carefully in his arms, making sure she was comfortable before bringing the bottle closer once more. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart.”

This time, she slowly turned her head, her tiny mouth opening slightly, her little lips grazing the bottle’s nipple. And just when it seemed like she might latch on, she pulled back again, her eyes wide and her face scrunching in discomfort. Rafe sighed, a soft laugh escaping him despite the situation. 

“You’re going to make me work for it, huh?” he muttered under his breath. 

Y/n slowly stirred awake at the soft sound of their baby’s whimpers getting louder. Her eyes fluttered open just enough to see Rafe now standing by their bed, his brow furrowed as he held the bottle, trying yet again to get their daughter to take it. She turned her head away from it, and Rafe sighed softly, clearly at a loss, gently rocking her in his arms. With a tired movements, Rafe placed the bottle on the nightstand; his eyes flicking to Y/n, who was laying peacefully under the covers. She'd shifted slightly, sensing the change in the air. He hated to wake her, but he knew she’d be the one who could calm her down.

“Y/n,” he whispered, gently shaking her shoulder. “She won’t take the bottle”

Y/n mumbled something incoherent but shifted, her eyes barely opening as she adjusted herself, pushing herself up the bed, back against the headboard. With a soft groan, she pulled the strap of her vest down, goosebumps rising on her now exposed skin, and moved their baby into position, lining her up to her breast. Instantly, the baby latched onto her, and Y/n hummed softly, her eyes half-closed as she rested her head against the headboard. Rafe stayed close, his hand gently brushing her thigh as he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. His lips lingered for a moment, the tenderness in his touch speaking more than words could.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low, his gaze soft with concern.

“Mmm,” Y/n hummed, barely lifting her head, “tired.” 

She murmured, her eyelids fluttering closed again, exhaustion seeping into her voice. Rafe smiled faintly, his heart swelling as he watched her. 

“I know, baby,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

She tilted her head slightly, her voice barely audible. “Why are you sorry?”

Rafe chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Didn’t want to disturb you.”

“You’re never disturbing me” 

Y/n smiled faintly, her hand gently resting on their baby’s back, her voice full of warmth. Settling down beside her on the bed, Rafe propped himself on one elbow, his eyes fixed on their daughter. She was feeding peacefully now, her tiny hand resting against Y/n’s chest, her eyelids fluttering closed in contentment. The room was quiet except for the faint sounds of suckling, Y/n's soft breaths and the rhythmic hum of the monitor on the bedside table. Rafe reached out cautiously, brushing the back of his finger against their baby’s cheek. His eyes then flickered up and watched Y/n, eyes glistening in the dim light. He could see how tired she was- the faint lines under her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped ever so slightly- but even now, she glowed with an effortless grace that took his breath away.

“Hey,” he said quietly sitting up, drawing her attention back to him. She turned her head slightly, her eyes heavy with sleep but full of love.

“Hmm?” she hummed. He pressed another kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering as he murmured, 

“I’ll take her after, yeah? You need rest.”

Y/n’s lips quirked up in a soft smile, and she nodded faintly, her head resting against his shoulder. Letting her eyes flutter closed for a moment. Rafe watched her, his gaze flicking down to the baby, who was still latched on, her tiny body snug in Y/n’s arms. 

“What if she spits up?” 

Y/n asked softly, not even opening her eyes, her voice tinged with a playful worry. Rafe grinned, shaking his head. 

“I think I can handle a little spit, baby. She’s got nothing on your pregnancy nausea.” 

He teased, leaning his cheek against her hair. Y/n opened one eye, giving him a sleepy, knowing look. 

“You say that now, but you’ve never taken a proper hit.” She murmured with a small smirk. “C’mon,” Rafe replied, tilting his head back dramatically. 

“She’s like nine pounds. What’s the worst she can do?”

As if on cue, their baby let out the tiniest hiccup, followed by a soft gurgle. Both Y/n and Rafe froze for a moment, staring at her, before a wet, unmistakable sound followed- a small spit-up dribbling down her chin. Y/n bit back a laugh, her shoulders shaking as she glanced up at Rafe, 

“You were saying?” 

She quipped, her voice thick with amusement. Rafe sighed, shaking his head with a wry smile as he grabbed the burp cloth already draped over his shoulder. 

“Alright... guess I earned that one.” 

He dabbed gently at their daughter’s chin, his expression softening as he looked down at her, “still the cutest, though.”

Y/n chuckled softly, leaning her head back against his shoulder again. “Welcome to parenthood,” she murmured, her voice laced with affection. Rafe grinned, placing one more kiss on the top of his daughter's head, her soft hair brushing against his lips as he said quietly.

 “Wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Dad!Rafe has my heart

[likeafeverrr]

CLEAN UP ON AISLE, MY PANTS!

WC ~600

lee heeseung x fem!reader

Warnings: lowk perv hee... js a lot pf smut, implied pnv (WRAP IT UP!), lowk dry humping, pet names (i think), i most likely forgot some stuff...

a/n: i kinda hate this, i js rlly miss heeseung... ALSO THIS ISNT PROOF READ I PROBABLY MADE SO MANY TYPOS

gooner roommate!heeseung who seems to be a loser but is actually the biggest freak known to man

gooner roommate!heeseung who sits in his room all day. you assume he’s playing some stupid game but he’s most likely getting himself off to one of your instagram posts of you in a itzy bitzy bikini

gooner roommate!heeseung who has folders upon folders of porn. either it’s girld that remind him of you, or its stuff he’d like to do with (to) you. 

gooner roommate!heeseung who has a countless amount of your panties stuffed in a little box under his bed. he sprayed them all with your favourite perfume so they smell like you.

gooner roommate!heeseung who yes, is a freak that absolutely needs to be inside you, is also respectful as hell and will only do things with you (if he ever works up the courage to ask) if you give him the clearest of the clear okay

gooner roommate!heeseung who came home from one of his night classes to you crying in the living room of your shared apartment.

gooner roommate!heeseung who makes you a bowl of ramen and sits you down in his bed as you tell him about your stupid boyfriend and how he’s been cheating on you for months

gooner roommate!heeseung who wipes your tears as he tells you how perfect you are and that your (now ex) boyfriend was always an asshole and never deserved you

gooner roommate!heeseung who got off that night to the image of you crying in his bed as he comforted you. he can’t help but imagine what you would look like crying beneath him

gooner roommate!heeseung who did his best to distract you from your messy breakup. from teaching you how to play call of duty, to telling you about this new anime he’s been watching.

gooner roommate!heeseung who’s let you fall asleep in his arms almost every night, waking up with a hard on that becomes increasingly painful every day.

gooner roommate!heeseung who lets you sit in his room as he’s on call with his friends while playing video games. he checks over his shoulder every 5 minutes to make sure you’re okay.

gooner roommate!heeseung who goes afk for 20 minutes as you tuck yourself into his bed, trying your best to get him to leave the game and come lay beside you

gooner roommate!heeseung who somehow convinces you to sit on his lap as he’s plays his game, your lets straddling him as you rest your head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck as one hand scratches the back of his head.

gooner roommate!heeseung who’s absolutely unashamed of how hard hes become just by having you close to him

gooner roommate!heeseung who grips your hip with one hand, massaging small circles into one of the dips.

gooner roommate!heeseung that immediately stops whatever game he’s playing when he hears your small, pathetic whimper, calling his name in your sleepy and horny state.

gooner roommate!heeseung who’s let doesn’t waste a second taking off his headphones and crashing his lips onto yours, his hands immediately travelling under your shirt to grip your breasts.

gooner roommate!heeseung who’s watched so many videos of this exact scenario, imagining it was you on his lap, calling his name, making you fall apart.

gooner roommate!heeseung who disregards all your clothes and wastes no time slipping his surprisingly hung cock into your drenched pussy.

gooner roommate!heeseung who fucks you so hard and tells you about how many times he’s thought about this, how many times he’s gotten off to your voice, how many times he’s almost bent you over nearly every possible surface and just taken you right then and there

gooner roommate!heeseung who literally fucks you for hours. you’re crying, shaking, overstimulated out of your mind. you can’t form any coherent thoughts. you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve came, how many times he’s came inside you. you’re absolutely wrecked. and he has absolutely zero plans on stopping.

“y- you’re so good baby~ so good… ngh f- oh fuck i love this pussy s’much… love you s’much baby…” 

[lilacgaby]

title: family matters

pairing(s): husband!toji x reader, son!megumi x reader

summary: megumi wakes up with a nightmare, toji doesn't want to move, so he solves his own problem.

your face was smushed up against toji's chest as you slept deeply. your arm slung around his waist and your legs tangled in his as you breathed him in.

he was awake though, playing with your hair as he let the sounds of your muffled sighs against his chest and the white noise of the fan slowly drift him to sleep...

until the sound of the door creaking made him jump slightly, quickly moving to soothe you in case he startled you.

megumi shuffled in, rubbing his eyes as he walked to the corner of the bed. "dad?"

toji sighed as he layed his head over to look at him, you usually handled this kind of stuff since he felt awkward. "what is it kid?"

"i'm scared." megumi admitted, his voice sounding choked like he'd already been crying.

"y' all right. we're right here 'gumi, so there's nothing to worry about." toji comforted, having his full attention on megumi. he reached his hand out to hold his shoulder and shook it.

"nothing will happen to you or your mom as long as im here. got it?"

megumi sniffled and shook his head in a nod. "'kay.. but can you come tuck me in?" he asked, grabbing toji's arm in a pulling motion.

"no way kid. your mom is sleeping right on top of me, and 'm not moving 'til she wakes."

"dadd." he whined, tugging his arm with all his might to try and get him to move. "you have to, it's what mom does!"

he knew it well, how you'd immediately get out of bed any night he came to lay in his and soothe him to sleep, most nights he'd wake up alone and find you holding megumi as you slept in his bed.

"well i'm not your mother. you're a big kid already, you can do it yourself."

"but i want you to do ittt." he started to shake his arm, which was jostling you in return.

"hey stop it kid, ya wanna wake your mom up?"

"nooo. hurry up!" he said, finally letting go and stomping his feet.

"i'm not moving kid, so tough luck."

megumi pouted and decided to..

flip him over. as he started shoving toji over with all his might, you obviously fell under him first. with toji's weight completely on you, you woke up disoriented and confused.

megumi, now with a bunch of room for himself, jumped in and held your arm to his chest, smiling victoriously.

"what-- what's going on?"

"this brat is so stubborn, he's just like you. go back to sleep."

"huh..?" you were being lifted up by toji and so was megumi. he settled you in the middle with him and megumi at your sides.

"good night. don't say i don't love you brat."

you fell asleep confused but comfortable, and megumi only stuck his tongue out at toji before going back to sleep with you.

toji was now playing with your hair while watching over the two of you, the sight of your chests rising and falling with every breath you took comforting him.

he hung his arm around you, holding your hand. laying his head on yours, he placed a hand on megumi's hair, ruffling it slightly.

his heart felt warm as he fell asleep, dreaming of you. oh and his son was there too.

he woke up to the sounds of rustling as megumi woke up, early as possible. he started to tap on your shoulder until toji moved his hand away from you groggily.

"what?"

"i'm hungry."

"for crying out loud kid, no!"

...

he got up to make pancakes for you three, extra whipped cream for megumi as he handed them out.

megumi was sat in your lap happily munching away as you paired yours with a cup of coffee, still half asleep.

toji ruffled megumi's hair, making him let out a small "hey!" as he moved over to kiss you, making megumi scrunch up his face.

toji moved to sit beside you at the counter, his hand supporting his head as he looked over at you two.

"you're a headache y'know that?"

"don't be mean to mom." megumi said, his mouth full.

"i wasn't talking about her, kid!

[vxlvted]

pussy drunk!felix

Felix is already so affectionate and eager during sex, but when he’s absolutely pussy drunk, he turns into the neediest, most desperate mess.

felix gets pussy drunk fast, sometimes before you’ve even fully started, the anticipation as he kisses his way down your skin has him breathing heavy, hands kneading your thighs (felix is absolutely a thigh guy, you can’t convince me otherwise) as he stares down at your dripping core with dark, hungry eyes.

he’s very vocal, whimpering, groaning and moaning onto your folds. felix has a HUGE potty mouth, it’s like he can’t even control what he’s saying, uttering the most vile things as he licks and sucks on your clit.

his hands tremble a little as he spreads your legs open, running his fingers along your slit, watching closely at how you shudder at his touch. He loves seeing how sensitive you are for him, how desperate you are when you arch up into his touch.

he lets out low groans, whispered praises, and shaky breaths against your thighs. he needs so badly to taste you, to be buried between your thighs that he’ll take you almost anywhere. pulling you into the bathroom while you’re out with friends, bending you over the kitchen counter while your cooking and shoving your panties your thighs down just to get a taste.

the moment his mouth makes contact with you he moans. loud, as if the taste of you alone is ruining him. tongue lapping over your folds. he’s incredibly sloppy with it, making a mess of himself. chin soaked, a mixture of his spit and your juices dripping down onto whatever surface your on. he loves it.

he constantly overstimulates himself just by eating you out. he gets so into it and so lost in you that he ruts his hips against the mattress instinctively. he’ll hump the bed, your legs, anything within reach, he just needs to feel some friction.

his cock is aching, leaking but he doesn’t care. he’s not even thinking about himself, he just wants to make you feel good.

“Shit—‘m gonna cum,” he pants against your clit, voice shaky and deep.

but he doesn’t stop, both his hips and his tongue keep moving. even when his jaw starts to ache and he’s out of breath, he refuses to stop until he feels you falling apart on his tongue.

he absolutely lives for the way your thighs shake around his head, the way your hands tangle into his blonde locks and tug hard as you cry out his name.

when—if—he pulls away, and you finally see his face. face flushed bright red, lips swollen from how much he’s been using his mouth on you. his eyes are glassy and almost teary.

“One more time baby. Please?” he begs, nuzzling his cheek into your thigh, voice hoarse from how much he’s been moaning into you. “Just one more. Promise i’ll make you feel so good.”

he’ll at least give you a bit of time to calm down and steady your breathing, kissing up and down your thighs till then, but once you give him the go ahead, he immediately snaps right back into it.

his words are incoherent at this point. he starts babbling against you, voice muffled as he keeps sucking, licking and kissing you while whining, “Fuck, baby, you taste so good. I need you. I need you so bad. Fuck—”

he’s perfectly content with spending the rest of the night between your legs, you don’t have to give him anything in return. but he definitely wouldn’t be opposed to being able to feel your slick warmth wrapped around him when he’s finally done.

at the end of it all, he’s so out of it. he collapses against your stomach, panting, trembling from his own orgasms. If you try to move he’ll whine and hug your thighs, not wanting to let you go. presses lazy kisses to your belly and all the way up your body, all messy and slow.

after you’re both completely spent, he wants you be completely wrapped around you, skin on skin. “I love you.” he mumbles against your skin and drifts off to sleep, finally content.

and who knows. if you wake up to him between your thighs once again, tongue gently flicking your clit… well, that’s just how it’s meant to be.

Taglist:

If you’d like to be put on (or taken off) the taglist, feel free to let me know!

@yaorzu-blog | @pixie-felix | @compersian | @tshyn | @kittenchaos2024

dividers from @/saradika-graphics

[sena-seastar]

Bad Sleeping Habits

Dad!Aemond x Wife!Reader

Summary: Aemond has trouble being firm with your daughter.

A/N: This is just a little drabble I wrote. No beta, so I apologize for any spelling and grammar mistakes!

Aemond had always been a light sleeper, even more so after the birth of your daughter. He had always been the first to wake up and rush to her side anytime she made the slightest noise. So when he heard her shuffling out of bed in the middle of the night, he woke up immediately. He didn’t get up, instead choosing to wait and see what she was up to.

The two of you had been trying to get Daenys into the habit of sleeping in her own bed. To say it was a struggle would be an understatement. The two of you had let her sleep between you a few times, and apparently, she took that to mean she had to sleep in your bed every night.

Aemond didn’t honestly mind it. He loved every minute of it. He knows that once she gets older, he won’t get those moments when he can hold her close and have her sleep in his arms anymore. So he wants to hold on to her as long as he can. 

Aemond kept perfectly still as he felt the blanket at the bottom of the bed being tugged down. He used one of his hands to hold onto it so that it would not completely slip off the bed, as Daenys used it as a ladder to climb onto the bed. He pretends to be asleep, though he cracks his eye open just enough to watch his little girl, in case she slips.

She let out a little grunt as she successfully reached the top. Aemond doesn’t move as she climbs over him, most likely trying to take her usual place between the two of you.

He does his best not to cry out when her knee accidentally digs into the flesh of his thigh. He doesn’t want to frighten his little girl or, even worse, wake you up. So, he does his best to bear the pain.

He waits until she reaches the top of the bed before rolling over to face her. She freezes, her eyes wide open, knowing she’s been caught. Though her shock quickly turns to amusement. Daenys gives him a cheeky smile.

“Why are you out of bed?” He whispers. “Go back to sleep,” he scolds her playfully.

“Nuh-uh,” she shakes her head, making her little silver curls shake side to side.

 Daenys sits back on her heels—a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Aemond lifts his hands, trying to brace himself. He makes it just in time before she throws herself on top of him. Her little arms wrap around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly as she buries her face into his neck. Messy, silver curls tickle his nose. Aemond shakes his head, trying to push her hair away.

“Fine, you can stay,” he sighs, “but your mother won’t be pleased with us in the morning.”

He grabbed the blanket, pulling it over the both of them.

She yawned, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder. “Night, night, kepa.” 

“Goodnight, my little dragon.” He hummed, gently running his hand over her back.

Aemond stared up at the canopy, and once again, he found himself wondering how he had gotten here. What had he done to deserve such happiness? The man had always known he would marry and eventually have children someday. He was a Targaryen prince, after all. Yet he had never imagined it would make him feel so... content. 

“You spoil her too much,” you mumble drowsily.

Aemond turned his head, finding you with your head still buried in your pillow.

“She’s a princess. It's practically in the job description.” He smirked. “Besides, you don't seem to mind when I spoil you.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “But she’s sleeping in her own bed tomorrow.”

Aemond reached over and grabbed your hand. He lifted it, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Goodnight, my love.”

[hoernypie]

tags: pregnancy

husband!Suguru will compliment you the whole time - telling you how he loves your changing body.

husband!Suguru makes sure to kiss your belly every day, proudly looking at it knowing he's the only one that was worthy and blessed by you to do that.

husband!Suguru picks clothes for you - weirdly almost every dress or shirt is stretching on your belly but he claims that it's just a pure accident (it's not that he loves showing off your bump!).

husband!Suguru is amazed by you and how you're growing a tiny human inside. He thinks that the moment you get pregnant you're the most fragile person in the whole world that can't even make tea by yourself.

husband!Suguru makes sure that you get all the vitamins your and the baby need. He won't let you skip any meal - he even sometimes gets Satoru to get his mission just to be sure.

husband!Suguru will bring you meals to bed on days when you feel unwell. He's just worried and doesn't want you to feel even worse while moving around.

husband!Suguru will pick you up and carry you every time there are stairs - even seeing two steps he carries you, being afraid of you tripping.

husband!Suguru is on his toes - making sure to give you anything you want. He'd rush to the convenience store even in the middle of the night to get you the ice cream that you've been craving to the point of waking him up.

husband!Suguru gets super anxious when you're in pain or unable to sleep. He'd instantly call Shoko to ask her what to do.

husband!Suguru will moan softly as you ride him, his eyes half open from the pleasure as his hands press against your baby bump - he just needs to feel your tummy and the baby you are carrying. He will not move, being afraid that his wheels will be off the cart and he doesn't want to hurt you - so as torturous as your slow tempo is he'll lay under you - feeling overwhelmed with the primal need to make you cry from the pleasure.

husband!Suguru who can't take it anymore and finally moves his hips a couple of times up, cumming into you and filling your pussy while his hands press into your bump, feeling the baby kick before apologizing to the baby for making you bounce - after you get off him, he leaves soft kisses on your belly, talking to the baby for the next couple of minutes how sorry he is for making it shake and how hot you looked during it.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

only you, always

words: 1.6k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, cheating, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex

you would never admit it out loud to anyone, but a twisted part of you likes when rafe cheats on you. its a dark truth, one you wrestle with every time it happens.

it's always when he's blackout drunk or high at a party, usually a combination of both. it's often when you're fighting or on a “break”. like last week, when your blowout argument ended with rafe slamming the door behind him and stomping out into the night. you were quick to hear that he made out with some girl at kelce's party. the pain lasted until the next day when he showed up back home, disheveled and tear-streaked, clutching a bouquet of flowers.

“i fucked up.” he croaked. 

you just stared at him until he fell to his knees, blue eyes rimmed with red as he pressed his forehead against your stomach. “please don’t leave me. i can’t lose you.”

the cheating hurts you every time, but rafe coming back crawling and crying, begging your forgiveness and worshiping you for the next few weeks always makes up for it.

“hi beautiful.” rafe kisses at your cheeks, a week having passed from your fight and his infidelity, the tension replaced with the warmth of his lips against your skin. 

“hey.” you smile, running your fingers over his face, stubble gracing his cheeks as he hasn't shaved for the last couple days, preferring to spend every waking moment with you instead as if he’s afraid you might slip away.

“i love you so much.” rafe leans in and kisses the tip of your nose this time, then your forehead, before dropping down to your lips.

“i don't deserve you.” rafe whispers before kissing you again.

“you probably don't.” you giggle, rolling on the bed so you're fully on top, pinning him beneath you. 

“i said i was sorry.” rafe pouts.

“and i forgave you.” you shake your head, your voice gentle but firm, realizing you probably shouldn't make fun of the situation, but humor feels safer than vulnerability.

“it won't happen again.” rafe says. it always does, yet he always promises it won't. maybe as you both grow older and more mature, both stop drinking and fighting so much, it will really be over, breaking the cycle. at least this time it was just kissing some random girl instead of sleeping with her.

you knew what you were getting into when you began dating rafe. he came with a wild reputation and an even wilder past. practically everyone in your friend group had a one night stand with rafe, but you didn't mind, because he chose to come back to you, not anyone else.

“what are you thinking about baby?” rafe asks, watching the emotions flicker over your face.

“just how good of a boyfriend you can be.” you answer with a small smile. 

“yeah?” rafe smirks, his head tilting to the side as a mischievous look flashes over his eyes. “do you want me to show you just how good of a boyfriend or do you want breakfast first?”

“you first.” you say quickly. “and then bacon and eggs.”

“scrambled or sunny side up?”

“scrambled of course.”

rafe grin grows, hands moving against your bare skin. “just like im about to scramble your-”

“allllright.” you cut him off before he can finish his joke, laughing as you roll off of him.

“no come back.” he pouts, pulling you back against his body, molding his chest to your back as he spoons you.

“you're so ridiculous.” you chuff, though your voice betrays the affection simmering beneath the surface.

“ridiculously in love with you.” rafe counters, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. he just had you last night, but he's already craving you again, missing the feeling of your bodies pressed together in the most intimate way.

“you're extra corny this morning.” you hum out.

“sorry.” rafe chuckles. you love that he's only like this around you, and only when he's just cheated. he turns into a dopey lovesick puppy until the need for your forgiveness and guilt wears off and he's back to his normal self.

rafe places his hand on your stomach, circling around your soft skin, each movement sweeping lower every time, deliberate and teasing.

“rafe.” you whine, eyes shutting as he begins to dip into your underwear with every gesture. 

“mhm.” rafe hums. as much as he likes to tease you, he wants to pleasure you more. his hand dips all the way into your underwear, fingertips coming to your clit.

he knows your body so well, exactly what to do to drive you crazy, every touch sending electricity through your body. his strokes over your clit are gentle, occasionally purposely missing to rub lower towards your entrance, like he's teasing where he's going to be later. it’s a dance you’ve done a hundred times before, but it never gets old.

“that feels so good.” you moan out, not even realizing that your eyes had fallen closed. rafe moves his other hand so it's under your body, your head coming to rest on his shoulder as he sculpts himself around you, other hand cupping your chest.

“mmm.” you hum, feeling rafes hardness pressing against your bum as his fingers stop teasing your clit, rubbing intensely now with the purpose of getting you wet and open.

“oh, baby.” rafe moans as you reach behind your back, hand cupping over his underwear, squeezing at his length through the fabric.

“fuck me. please.” you begin to move your hips, grinding yourself against his hand.

“be patient.” he tsks, fingers pinching at your nipple before going back to cupping your breast.

“unfair.” you pout, but decide two can play at that game, bringing your hand underneath his waistband to stroke up and down his cock.

you can't see rafes face, but you're sure his expression just shifted to one of pleasure.

his hand delves further between your legs, finger circling around your entrance only once before pushing into your cunt, making you moan loudly.

“fuck yes.” you rock your hips again, this time back against rafes crotch, your hand still moving up and down his cock.

“god, i can barely wait.” rafe groans, finger moving faster inside of you, building you up as quickly as he can.

“stop waiting then.” you move your hand, turning onto your back, rafes hand maneuvering to still fuck into you. “come on, rafey.”

you know once he sees your pout he can't resist, not when he's still making things up to you.

“god, that face kills me.” he presses a quick kiss against your lips before moving, pulling your underwear down and flinging them off the bed before disrobing himself.

you grin as rafe doesn't even bother to ask how you want him, instantly lying himself over top of you and lining up his cock with your entrance.

“i love you.” you press a kiss against rafes cheek as your arms loop around his shoulders.

“i love you.” rafe echos back, connecting your lips that quickly develop into moans as he pushes inside of you, engulfing his cock in your heat.

rafe knows he doesn’t need to give you time, already used to his cock being sheathed inside of you. he begins to swing his hips in an even rhythm.

your fingertips dig into his shoulders, pressing into his tanned skin.

“nobody even gets close to you.” rafe groans as you tighten your cunt around him every time he pulls out to thrust back in.

“its only you.” rafe continues as he drops one hand between your bodies, placing his thumb against your clit as he rubs to the rhythm of his thrusts. “only you.”

you can't help that smile that stretches across your face. you don't give a shit if it's only you, as long as he continues to fuck you like this and treat you like a queen.

“faster, rafe.” you pull his chest tighter against yours, your nipples pressing against his skin, stimulating them with his every movement as he speeds up.

“c-close.” you whine.

“me too.” rafe grunts in agreement. “gonna cum in you, yeah?”

“yes.” you nod rapidly. “yes, please, please, please, rafe.”

your head is swirling with the overwhelming pleasure as rafes thumb presses against your clit just as his cock is thrust deep inside of you. it's enough to throw you over the edge, back arching up into rafe as you moan loudly, legs shaking as you feel him lose it to, his moans loud in your ear as he pumps into you.

“fuck, b-baby, y/n.” rafe groans as he finishes, making sure you get every last drop inside of you.

rafe drops himself to the side of you, the mattress bouncing as you both become slack against the sheets, hearts beating fast and chest rising and falling rapidly.

“i really do love you baby.” rafe says, his voice soft and slightly hoarse. “im sorry i always fuck things up.”

“you don't, though.” you move so you're resting against rafes chest, snuggled against his side. “you make mistakes but you always come back and make it right, that's all i ask for.”

you hear rafe sniffle and you know he's holding back tears, always extra emotional after a reconciliation, as if hes purging himself from the guilt.

“ill go make you some breakfast now if you wanna get dressed.” rafe slides quickly off the bed, keeping his back to you as he pulls his underwear back on.

“why would i get dressed if i want you to fuck me again after breakfast?” you tease, your lip quirking up.

you see rafes hand raise to his face, and you know he's wiping at his cheeks, but you give him time to collect himself, secretly happy only you can make him act like this.

“alright.” rafe turns around, his eyes still glossy but filled with adoration as he bends down to press a kiss to your forehead. “bacon and scrambled eggs and then ill fuck you on the table, then in the shower, then ill take you shopping and fuck you in the dressing room.”

“perfect.” you grin.

[arsheyee]

New smut: LADS!!! Waking MC up with an oral

Hi long time no see…. Currently I am working on my book! It is going to be a supernatural crime thriller. This is my first Love and Deep space at writing because I am obsessed with the game…. Hope you all enjoy it ✌️💕

The title is inspired by one of my fantasies (🥲 nights are lonely)

NOTE!!! ‼️ Everything written is consensual between both parties and has been discussed before or it has happened before. ‼️

Warnings ⚠️: mxf, slight somnophilia (totally consensual and discussions are had prior because we stan CONSENT), wet dreams, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, Cunnilingus… (lol I forgot at this point**)

Synopsis: You have slept over with your boyfriend for the first time and he noticed you sprawled in his bed. You whined in your sleep like you are having a wet dream and he decides to have some fun with that…

Parings!: Xavier X FMC!, Zayne X FMC!, Raphael X FMC!, Sylus X FMC!, Caleb X FMC!

—————————NSFW CUT—————————

Xavier:

It was just one of those mornings when Xavier woke up before you. Usually you had to drag him out of bed just to get him even ready for the day. This moment was rare for him to get to see you sleeping peaceful with the sun hitting the right spots on your face making you look ethereal. He was supposed to go off and make breakfast but this morning he woke up hungry for something else. Your pussy. He rolled over to see you laying there in the bed naked from the previous night and he couldn't resist it. He let sloppy kisses down your body and lifted one leg over his shoulder and began eating you out, not bothering to tease you while you slept since you were asleep but he smiled finding you already wet for him. You squirmed in your sleep at the foreign feeling of his tongue but remained asleep while Xavier began rubbing circles on your clit and dragging his tongue down your wet slit. His tongue probed your well fucked hole as he tasted the condom he used from last night mixed with your juices.

“Shit my bunny is already clenching around my tongue." He chuckled placing two fingers inside of you and pumping quickly pressing down gently on your stomach with his other hand as he sucked and bit on your clit.

“Xavi," You whined out in a sleep-like state, he loved that you were crying out his name in your sleep but he wanted you awake so that you could see him doing this to you.

Your body began to realise what was happening before your mind did and you stirred awake moaning out as you felt Xavier eating you out. You looked down and locked eyes with him, he gave you a cocky yet innocent smile before returning to his rough and fast pace with his fingers, pulling out and replacing them with his tongue to switch things.

"Fuck Xavi!" You cried your hands resting in his sliver hair as you pulled him closer to you, you knew your orgasm was coming before your stomach was tightening and every time he replaced his fingers your body would shake from the lack of contact you were getting where you needed him most.

"Don't stop, I'm so close." You whimpered as he added his fingers once again, that's all he needed to hear from you and he reached up kissing you roughly as he continued his assault on your core with his fingers, moving so fast all you could do was let out small whines and whimpers.

"Cum for me, cum all over my fingers be a good girl." He urged you on reaching down with his other hand and rubbing your clit in small circles still staring into your eyes.

“Cum, right now." You locked eyes as you let your orgasm explode inside of you crying out his name as he continued to stare. Your orgasm was so intense that your mouth hanged open in an ‘O’ shape yet nothing came out. Not a sound.

"Tasty my good bunny," He chuckled pulling out and letting you clean off his fingers innocently like he was eating pie.

(I think we all know from lists of “special” events what his favourite part of us is heh 😏)

Zayne:

Zayne was the type of man to shower you with gifts and lots of affection but he was very reserved and cold like his evol. When it came to intimacy and valued precision over speed and liked to keep the PDA to a minimum. But there were days when he couldn’t control himself (refer to the night of secrecy~) and wanted you. But today was not that day. Today he wanted to do something extra special as it was your birthday. Everyone gives gifts but you had talked about a fantasy you had about being woken up on a special day with an oral. He'd never done because he was worried you wouldn't like it (and more about the fact Zayne was well being Zayne) but since it was your birthday he decided to try it.

Sliding off your panties and going down to your core he started slowly began to kiss from your thighs to your core, sucking on your clit and observed every movement as your body reacted to him. You were already wet which made his work easier. He took his time (precision over speed… as he is a surgeon…😶) with you until he had enough of you not being awake and decided to be a little rougher, sucking harshly on your clit as he pushed two fingers into you pumping and hitting your hilt without a problem. You squirm around still dreaming about getting eaten out but it felt too real. A little too real.

Your eyes shot open as you felt the all-too-familiar feeling in your stomach, you were close but it surprised you to wake up and find Zayne between your legs. Your eyes widen at the sight and he still hadn’t noticed you were awake. You were shocked and surprised to what had gotten over him because a stoic man like Zayne wouldn’t do this without a reason.

"Fuck you taste so good." He growled to himself about you and you let out a whimper as he began eating you out, as soon as you felt yourself getting closer you wanted to let him know you were awake.

“Zayne I'm close." You whined out and his eyes shot up finally meeting yours. He bit your clit in response making you squeal loudly.

Cum then honey," He hummed to you the vibrations sending you over the edge and you came around his tongue and fingers, crying out his name as your body shook.

"Happy Birthday sweetheart." He whispered coming up to your face and kissing you lovingly.

So that’s what this “gift” was about you smiled to yourself thinking

(You all can’t argue that Zayne is so much like LanZhan from MDZS)

Raphael:

Raphael laid awake in the bed beside you as you slept soundly, he'd gotten back from his art tour and he was jetlagged to the max unable to sleep and getting annoyed when he couldn't fall asleep beside you as easily as you had with him.

He'd tried to jerk himself off trying to calm “little Raphael” but all that did was make him hornier. It didn’t help that you were sleeping beside him in his favourite blush pink slip dress. The strap was thin and the neckline is a V-shape with a small bow detail at the center. The dress has a fitted bodice and flows into a slightly A-line skirt. The trim along the neckline. It made it worse because of your messy sleeping habits making the dress ride up , as you shift your cushion to show those cute matching dark pink panties , drooling on the satin pillows. He licked his lips as he admired your body and the way it looked. He'd done this plenty of times before woken you up by giving you oral and he was glad he was going to do it again he sunk down to your core and began licking you with small licks watching to see how your body would react to it and once you moaned in your sleep he smirked.

“Raph." You moaned out in your sleep but he knew you weren't awake, you were in the state of being half and half awake to understand what was really happening and what was in your dream so he took this chance to dive into your pussy, his tongue circled at your entrance and he looked up at you eating you out and chuckling whenever your eyes would flicker.

You're getting close huh baby? I can feel you clenching around my tongue, so needy." He whispered before returning to sniff your core enjoying the musky scent and repeating what he had been doing for the last three minutes.

Your body began to shake as you woke up and you bite your lip seeing Raphael between your thighs smiling up at you once you'd noticed him. You run your hand his purple locks tangling them in the gaps of your fingers, enjoying the slimy feeling of them and the sweat that was started to form on his scalp.

"Just like that. Oh my! Eat me more Raph!" You mewl your back arching away from the mattress as your orgasm grew closer and closer to your climax.

He teased rubbing you in circles as you whimpered out his name nodding your head to what he was saying, you were desperate to cum for him. He was hungry to taste your essence too. He runs his tongue roughly over the slit slowly savouring the flavour of your cunt.

“Come on baby give your cum I am starved…” he whispered hungrily continuing to feast on your pussy like it was his last meal.

G-G-Gonna cum," You stuttered out looking down at him as you knew how much he loved to watch you cum, his fingers didn't stop for a second he continued to pump your hole and suck your clit as quickly as he could and you came around his fingers and on his tongue crying out his name. Your whole body was spasming as you came around his tongue and fingers, coming down from your high and staring at him dazed from your orgasm.

“Fuck Raph, honey, what's gotten you so-" You were cut off by him kissing you roughly and lining himself up at on pussy, he pulled away and hissed as he pushed himself inside of you.

"Please I missed you baby” He cried out as he began thrusting into you roughly not giving you a second to adjust to his size or movements.

(Raphael is such a sub boy… don’t debate with me about this)

Sylus:

As the leader of Onychinus, Sylus, ~(I can’t spell ignore if wrong 😭)~ he had to go around to “take care” of the chaos that occurred in the city. It wasn’t unusual that he was gone for days and you were in the care of the twins. But he decided to come home early to surprise you, taking an earlier flight home so he could come home and surprise you but when he walked through the house and found you still asleep.

He was shocked, because normally you were the first one awake whenever he was home but he found you snuggled up in bed in nothing but one of his slick robes and a blanket.

He smirked to himself as soon as he saw you, dropping his bag on the floor he made his way over to you slowly taking the sheet off your body and biting on his lip, it had been too long since he'd seen you this way and he'd missed you a lot.

He ran his hand up your send and watched as your body automatically responded to his touch, you whined in your sleep turning over so you were on your back and Sylus couldn't resist the urge anymore thinking it would add to the surprise of him being home early.

“Fuck." He groaned sliding your panties off without you waking up, since you were a heavy sleeper so he knew that you won’t awake just yet. He ran one finger over your folds and smirked knowing you must have been having a good dream because you were soaking.

“Damn kitten." He cooed laying down on the bed in front of your core, he lifted your legs up over his shoulders and began leaving small teasing kisses along your inner side of your thighs until he got to your pussy. He licked his lips sniffing the scent of your cunt. He couldn’t wait to dive in to eat you out.

“Hmm?" Sylus looked up thinking you'd woken up already but you were just moaning and squirming in your sleep. Whatever he was doing to you in the real world was having some kind of effect in dreamland for you. He took one lick before looking up to see if you were moving yet but once he saw you were still asleep he took to work, sucking on your clit while he pushed one finger inside of you pumping slowly and humming around your slit once he felt you clench in your sleep.

The first thing you felt when you half awake was Sylus’s lips kissing and sucking on your clit. It was so good you thought you were dreaming.

S-Sylus." You moaned out your hands going into his hair to hold him closer trying to squeeze your thigh around his head to yep him there. As soon as he bit down gently on your clit, your eyes shot open as you realised it wasn't a dream and he was really there, eating you out.

He chuckled as you moaned out, his fingers began to pump faster and he began sucking harder on your clit, only to replace his tongue where his fingers had been so he could really taste you.

“Sy-Sylus whe-nnn did you get h-h-hom—? Fuck!” Your question was interrupted by a loud moan as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge with every swirl of his tongue and rub of his fingers.

He stared up at you while he continued to eat you out, you stared at him for a couple of seconds before throwing your head back against the pillows and arching your back.

“Look at me while you cum, you know the rules, kitten” You couldn’t help yourself but obey him locking your glassy eyes with his red, lust filled ones.

R-Right there." You whimpered as he replaced his tongue with his fingers hitting your Gspot with every pump, you clenched around him and he knew you were getting closer.

"C-Close." You cried as you stared down at him and he shook his head.

"Not yet kitten, hold it a little longer I know you can." But you couldn't, it had been so long and you were too overcome with pleasure to hold it off. Your orgasm washed over you and you came around his finger screaming out his name as your legs shook and your eyes rolled back.

“Fuck kitten, has it been too long that you forgot all your training?" You let out a shakey laugh as he got into the bed beside you pulling the sheet over the both of you.

(Sylus my daddy. I love you !!!)

Caleb:

Caleb woke up the next morning feeling horrible and not because of the hangover he was having but because he remembered the night before, stumbling in drunk and getting ready for sex only to cum long before you did and leave you unsatisfied. He rolled over and found you asleep in one of his shirts, he kissed your forehead before kissing down your neck finally heading to your core. He shimmies your panties down your body takes a sniff before throwing them somewhere in the room as he took a final look at you to make sure you were still asleep before he kissed your pussy. He rubbed small and slow circles on your clit to tease you until you moved in your sleep, once you turned a little he began to eat you out rougher, adding a finger into you and watching as your body stirred.

Mmm, Caleb ." You mumbled in a sleep-like state your hands reaching for him beside you but once you found nothing but cold sheets you woke up, the pleasure of him eating you out hitting you hard as you realised what he was doing.

"Ca-Caleb?" You look up shocked calling out at him as he lifted your leg over his shoulder and head himself closer to your pussy.

"Cum for me!" He ordered staring up at you, you whimpered at the sudden authoritative tone to his voice and he added another finger pumping them roughly.

“I said cum for me!" He barked out making you moan out at the vibrations from his voice, he smirked feeling you clench around him so he did it again growling into your pussy and watching as you cried out his name.

“Cum right now or you don't get to cum at all again." He growled making you gasp at his tone and arched your back off the mattress as you got closer and closer, his fingers began pumping faster but as he added the third one you came undone around his fingers, crying out his name and moaning loudly as he continued to eat you out through your orgasm watching you as you gripped onto the sheets with pleasure but he didn't stop, he kept going as soon as you came down from your high.

"What are you doing?" You panted from overstimulation of your clit. It was numb at this point, but he wasn't going to stop until he'd made you cum so much you were begging him not to.

"Making up for last night." He whispered before diving his tongue back into you making you cry out his name out again and again all morning.

(Caleb! Bad dog!)

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

suguru wakes up, with a jolt, to the sound of a thud and a meek little yelp.

his eyes blink open, like the shutter of an old camera, raven lashes fluttering along — met only with the dim darkness of your bedroom. not quite pitch black, the light of something soon to resemble dawn bleeding in through the closed blinds, a blue kind of hue that doesn’t do much for him. everything is still dark.

but he can make out shapes, see the ceiling above him, and when he turns his head to the right he can see the contours of shoko’s face; fast asleep, snores building up in her throat and spilling from her lips.

(ridiculously cute.)

sadly, suguru doesn’t have time to savour the sight. because it takes him no less than a moment to notice that his other sleepy baby isn’t there at all — he barely even has to look, just feeling the mattress below him, knowing something is missing. he can’t feel at ease unless you’re weighing it down.

”baby…?” he rasps, deep and groggy, body moving on its own. elbows digging into the mattress, lifting himself up — a tug of alarm stirring his heartstrings.

the thud, your absence, the unmistakable yelp.

his muddled mind puts three and three together — and he sluggishly, steadily pulls himself up, almost desperate to locate you, but careful not to wake shoko. he moves elegantly, like a panther, slipping out of bed, bare feet meeting the cold floorboards as he stands up to his full height. hair a mess, a raven’s nest, sweatpants close to slipping off one side of his hips. absently wiping at his bleary eyes.

as soon as he regains his vision, stands up straight — he sees you. lying on the floor, like an abandoned plushie, while the adorable culprit is sprawled out peacefully on the mattress above you. you’re trying to get up, all disoriented and sleepy, and suguru thinks his heart might just melt down to the marrow.

this is exactly why he makes sure to sleep on the edge of the bed, most nights. exactly to prevent this — prevent his lovers from rolling over, tumbling right off. he doesn’t mind sleeping in the middle on days you want one arm each to latch onto, of course not; nothing warms his heart more than having both his babies on either side of him. but it feels good, to be the shield between you and the hardwood floor — making sure neither of you could ever fall off. it feels good, to watch you both nuzzle together like a pair of sleepy kittens. left side, middle, he’s fine with either.

just as long as he can prevent this. having to watch your small, sleepy form paw at the floorboards in search of stability. it breaks his heart in two.

”oh, baby,” he croons, deep and dripping with honey, crouching down beside you. effortless, as he scoops you up into his arms, one of his palms curling around your back — running down your spine.

and your eyes flutter open. hazy eyes, blinking at him, gaze almost absent, like you’re not quite sure what you’re looking at; but you’re already leaning into his touch, muscles softening, as if your very essence knows you’re safe. in his arms, in his lap.

it makes him want to cry.

(it makes him want to give you everything.)

he wastes no time in securing you, arms under your legs and behind your back as he stands up again. cradling you close, letting out a quiet coo, as if shushing a disgruntled child. the fall must have woken you up, poor thing. he wishes he could be angry with shoko, but she looks too sweet, when she’s so deeply asleep; drooling a little, groaning out something that sounds like a name. he only shakes his head, still rubbing gentle circles into your back.

”what a little bully, huh…?” 

no response. you’re already starting to nod off, again, and so he gets back into bed — guiding you to rest against the wall, safe and secure, where no sleepy girlfriends can get to you. tucking you in under his chin, making sure you’re comfortable against him.

(your shield, always. that’s all he wants to be.)

his lips find their way onto your forehead, pressing a gentle kiss between your brows. soft and chaste, holding you snugly, so eager to dote on you. his heart is still bleeding with tenderness, he can’t keep it in, it’s leaking all over the mattress and urging him to hold you tighter against his ribs. he thinks of how confused you must have been, waking up on the floor, wonders if you hurt your head on the way down — pressing another kiss there, for good measure. 

sweetly, sleepily, your lips curl up into a smile. 

a yawn slips past your lips, as you nuzzle into him, cheek all squished against his cushiony chest. looking so pleased that he almost wonders if this was your plan all along, a way to get all his attention.

suddenly, a weight drapes itself against his spine.

while he’s busy coaxing you back to sleep, he feels it; a sleepy murmur, muffled right against his bare skin, as a pair of lanky arms wrap around his waist. her voice is so raspy he just barely picks up on it, but his ears are attuned to every sound she makes.

shoko stirs behind him, fingers digging into his hips.

”… give ’em back…”

… his brows furrow.

”thief,” she yawns, again, all groggy and gruff. so, so silly. ”give them back… you’re so greedy…”

a raise of his brow, as he breathes out a scoff. ”you kicked them off the bed, you know…”

shoko only breathes out another groggy grumble, in response; her lanky arms tugging at his shoulders, using them as leverage to drag herself over his body and closest to the wall. he only lets out an amused huff, letting her manhandle him a bit — letting her snuggle up to you, warming your back. suguru feels himself smiling. watching you squirm, when her short, auburn strands tickle your sensitive collarbone, when she sighs into your neck. right in the middle of the two, right where you should be.

right where you belong.

he leans forward, brushes the curtain of your bangs away from your face, plants his lips against your forehead; smears a kiss against shoko’s cheek. he can’t help himself but to fall into you, breathe in the scent of your moisturizer, fading citrus drops and coconut oil. can’t help himself but to love you.

(his angels, he thinks, the word stuck on his tongue. his reason to be.)

suguru hugs you both close, now separating you fully from the edge of the bed, the chilly mahogany floor just waiting for impact. like the steady wall he always yearns to be, your ever-eager guard dog, even in your sleep. he’d like to jump into your dreams, make sure they treat you kindly — but he can’t. 

so this will have to do.

with a sigh, his lashes flutter shut. eyes drooping, every muscle in his body beginning to relax, sink into the mattress below. you’re safe, and shoko’s safe. that’s enough to put his heart deliriously at ease.

with the dark blue shade of the almost-morning sky bleeding in through the window’s glass, the city fast asleep beyond it — suguru closes his eyes. he whispers, breathes a silent prayer into the top of your head. he hopes you can still hear it, that it can bring you both solace, that his wish will come true.

”sweet dreams, my angels.”

(that’s all he could ask for.)

[dontbesoweirdkira]

A/N: Never cared about superman until this new trailer came out. I'm a Clark girlie now. It's shame there's not many Yan!superfamily content out there. I plan to write more but I figured i'd get some thoughts out there.

Warnings: DeadDoveDon'tEat| Forced family, yandere themes, kidnapping, manipulation ect..

Living with Yan!superfam would be the most terrifying experience in the whole wide world. Yes, Clark Kent is such a sweetheart. Truly the embodiment of a "gentle giant", there's not a man on earth whose kinder...but there's also not one who is stronger.

How frightening would it be to innocently deny your father of bonding time and hear him say---

"I didn't quite hear you. Could you repeat yourself, Honey?"

---and you turn around to face this six and a half foot brooding man who is towering over you with a sickeningly sweet smile....

You and I both know he heard you loud and clearly, he can hear someone laugh half way across the world. Papa Clark just wanted to see if you really had the audacity to repeat yourself.

OH and the fact he has telepathy? Clark has sworn on his life that he'd never use those abilities on anyone outside of criminals, let alone his precious family but there's times where it feels there's something rummaging through you brain.. picking at every little part.

--and it always seems to happen late at night, when everyone is supposedly sleeping.

Speaking of his telepathy powers, could you imagine him erasing parts of your memories? One time while he was holding you in his arms, all you could think about was your past...your real parents and siblings...how you wished his arms were theirs...

Clark's jealousy would overwhelm him and next thing you know you can't even remember much about them at all...

Or fantasizing about escaping while at dinner and having your train of thought ripped right from you as he silently watches you from across the table.. You know that there's something wrong but you can't quite place it and he finally speaks up

"Everything alright, sweetheart? You look a little disgruntled."

One thing Clark does is swoop you into his arms without much warning and flies. That seems like so much fun but you hate them. Rightfully so. Intentional or not, it's a reminder how helpless you truly are when in a blink of an eye you're thousands of feet up in the air . He'd never drop his precious daughter, but you don't know that. Not when he just levitates there, looking at you with a sickness in his eyes..mind racing and heart pounding. He loves you so much, what would he ever do if he lost his only girl.

Clark constantly pushes to be close to you and to be the perfect father. It's so surreal waking up in a "perfect" cookie cutter family. It's as if you were in some 1950's film about a nuclear family, everything feels like it's taken right from a script.

It really reminds you that they are aliens trying their hardest to conform to a human way of life. You feel bad for being so reclusive when it's clear that your Father wants your life to be perfect, but you can't shake the fear you have for them.

You would almost feel bad if they didn't kidnap you or could snap your spine with a single finger...

Oh don't get me started on your little brother Jon. He's just like his dad. Loving and full of sugar, until you do something to shatter the image of their perfect family.

You rejected playing with him and suddenly he's *literally* dragging you into his room to play Legos. Or you told him that he's "not really your brother and that you have a real family somewhere else." and He's blowing out your eardrums during a tantrum..

*never make Jon scream and cry, noted.*

Oh one time he threw an emotional fit so hard that he almost shot a Laser beam at you. He genuinely didn't mean to, he would never purposefully put your life in danger but he's still not in full control of his powers yet. Very blessed that Clark was there that day to settle things.

Yeah. The boy frequently forgets just how fragile you are. Clark is able to control himself in order to protect you and everyone else but Jon struggles so much. Accidental bruises and broken bones are a frequent thing in this household, much to Clark's dismay.

He can scold his son all day but when he sees his sister waiting for him to get off the school bus, he can't help but throw himself into her. Maybe its the pulling, grabbing, and yanking her a little too harshly out of excitement is the root cause.

He's always wanting to show of his powers in order to make you think he's cool and deserving of your love..

Lois is completely bliss to everything that's going on. She seems to be rather confused why you're taking so long to adjust but honestly I think Clark has her mentally wiped.

What if he only kidnapped you because he desperately wanted a daughter. Like Papa Clark gives off "girl dad" vibes but Lois couldn't have another. When he saw you, oh you were so perfect. He didn't care if you looked like him or not, you were his baby girl. You were perfect for this family.