#thank you all for your support this has been so much fun so far

[14dayswithyou]

I literally have the most amazing and wonderful community in the entire world???? T_T In this essay, I will—

This is going to be raw and unedited because I want to get my initial thoughts out there before I forget n go back to crying /pos, but?? Yawl.... I can't even begin to find the words to express how appreciative and grateful I am for each and every one of you!! ;v;

I've spent the past few hours reading through everyone's personally written messages, then rereading them all again to let it all fully sink in. I'm being genuine when I say that I've never felt this loved or appreciated in any community before in my life.

Those in the Discord server might know about this already, but since the start of this year, I haven't really been enjoying myself (nor have I been as active) in the yandere VN community. There was far too much infighting between devs, parasocial communities, and toxic anons that ruined so much for me — so I withdrew from it all and remained in my own small bubble. Even then, I still got belittled, harassed, doxxed, and even became the target of Tall Poppy Syndrome by others; most of which nearly made me want to leave altogether, but the overflowing amount of support from everyone in the 14DWY community made me want to stay.

And even now, after reading all those heartfelt messages... I think it's permanently solidified the little space I occupy here on the internet :3

So... Yeah, long story short (and a story that will likely end up as its own separate Tumblr post gjskskjd), I wasn't enjoying myself at all in the yandere VN community... but I did have the time of my life in the 14DWY community. And it's all thanks to you guys.

I'm genuinely sooooo proud to have such an endlessly kind, social, and talented community; and I'm glad to have brought such an interactive and friendly group of people together over our shared interest in such a nice concept. 14DWY is essentially a labour of my love — and although I'm ultimately creating it for me and my silly interests — it's still something that I want to make worthy of you guys as well. All the love and support you've shown me and 14DWY motivates me to do my very best, and y'all deserve nothing less. So...

Thank you all for finding a comfort character in my Totally Normal Guy and his Totally Not Eccentric quirks. Thank you for all the insanely talented creations y'all make and share with me. Thank you for sending in your silly (/pos) questions and turning them into inside jokes and AUs for the rest of the community to enjoy. Thank you for talking with me and making this space a genuinely fun place for me to be in again.

From the bottom of my heart; thank you all so much. I really hope everyone has had an amazing year so far, and I hope 2025 will be as kind to you as you all were towards me.

I also want to give a big fat massive huuuuuuuge shout-out to Ashe / @flaneur001 my love (/p) for organising the 14DWY letter event on Discord, and for contributing so much of their time and dedication to the 14DWY community. You say you've only been part of the community for a year, but to me, that was a year well cherished and appreciated. The 14DWY community (and me especially) have all been so lucky to spend this past year with you, and I sincerely hope you've enjoyed it as much as we have. You've done so much for me, the community, and the 14DWY Discord server, so it's only fair that you get the recognition you deserve. So thank you, Ashe!! And a big thank you to everyone in the 14DWY Discord who participated in this event as well!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some cryin and sobbin to do <3 /silly /pos

[soleilpinto]

DRS = Defining Relationship Status?: Epilogue °‧🫐𐙚⭒

“Defining Relationship Status Zone” 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐

Synopsis: Motorsport fan and model, Y/n, and her thirst-filled tweets about Franco catch his attention, sparking a hilarious online banter that goes viral. As their playful exchanges become real connections, fans and media can’t get enough—will their chemistry survive offline?

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Slowburn, (Slight) Angst

AU: Social Media AU!

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Note: And…Scene! That’s it from Franco and Y/n everyone! Thank you all so much again for getting this far, the support has been amazing and I had so much fun writing this. Wait for a bit because I have a Lando fic coming out soon so watch for that after this!

DRS Masterlist. (PREV.)

liked by francolapinto, francisca.cgomes and others

ynbardot holá argentina 🇦🇷

francolapinto te amo mucho mi vida (i love you so much my life)

— ynbardot yo también te amo (i love you too)

elenavalor MY PARENTS

elenavalor I LOVE YOU BOTH

@argentinangrid y/n is literally in franco’s home country WITH HIM. this is a W for him, for her, for us, for EVERYONE

@f1chaoss so y/n went straight from abu dhabi to argentina??? love that she’s wasting ZERO time

@paddocktea y/n in argentina??? the girl didn’t even wait a week post-abu dhabi to show us she’s with franco. WE LOVE IT

The golden hues of the setting sun painted the Buenos Aires skyline as you and Franco strolled through the cobblestone streets of San Telmo.

The bustling chatter of street performers and the distant sound of tango music set the scene, but your world felt quiet, intimate, as if it were just the two of you.

Franco reached out, lacing his fingers through yours, his grip firm yet gentle.

You looked up at him, and he gave you that signature boyish grin—the one that always seemed to melt your resolve, no matter how stubborn you were feeling.

“Do you want to stop somewhere for dinner?" he asked, nodding toward a quaint little café glowing with soft, warm lights.

You shook your head, a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Not yet. I want to enjoy this a little longer."

His thumb brushed against your knuckles as you both continued to walk, the air warm and fragrant with the scent of flowers and fresh empanadas from a nearby vendor.

Then, the unmistakable sound of tango music floated toward you from a street performer nearby.

Franco stopped in his tracks, his ears perking up like he’d just heard the world’s best idea.

“What are you doing?” You asked, laughing as he dropped your hand and took a dramatic step back, bowing slightly.

“May I have this dance, señorita?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock formality as he extended a hand toward you.

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your grin.

“Franco, we’re literally in the middle of the street—”

“Exactly,” he interrupted, stepping closer to take your hand before you could protest further. “Live a little, mi amor.”

Before you knew it, he spun you under his arm, causing you to stumble and laugh uncontrollably. “You’re ridiculous!”

“Ridiculously good at this,” he countered with a smirk, pulling you closer and swaying dramatically to the music.

It wasn’t graceful or even remotely close to an actual tango, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The two of you laughed until your cheeks hurt, Franco occasionally twirling you for the sheer fun of it.

The people passing started to watch, some clapping along to the beat, and a few even took out their phones to record.

“Franco, people are staring!” you whispered, half-embarrassed, half-thrilled.

“Let them,” he said, grinning down at you. “They’re just jealous they’re not dancing with you.”

You playfully shoved his chest, but he caught your hand and pressed it to his heart, the teasing glint in his eyes softening.

“You’re having fun, admit it.”

You sighed dramatically, letting him spin you one last time.

“Fine. Maybe just a little.”

As the music slowed, he pulled you into a mock-dip, nearly making you fall before catching you at the last second.

Both of you dissolved into laughter, leaning on each other as the street performer gave a theatrical bow in your honor.

“You’re impossible,” you said, breathless from laughing as you both straightened up.

“And yet, here you are,” he teased, leaning in close. “Still putting up with me.”

The rest of the evening felt lighter, freer, as if all the weight of the world had been left behind on that cobblestone street.

When Franco whispered, “I’m keeping that dance forever,” you couldn’t help but smile, knowing you would too.

© soleilpinto 25’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

[alterniatifu]

holy sh1t thƐrƐs so many of you

[joelsgoldrush]

“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k

worst!logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.

A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch 

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[lavnderwonu]

So High School | Kim Mingyu

pairing: fiancé!mingyu x pregnant!fem!reader

rating: fluff, mature

genre: non-idol au, slice of life, established relationship

summary: you and your fiancé haven't discussed the idea of you having children, but with your wedding approaching, the idea of starting a family with him has been on your mind.

warnings: please read ALL! contains smut! not much but a little! (!!!) some time skips, reader gets pregnant, planned pregnancy, reader's mom loves mingyu, reader deals with morning sickness (for my fellow emetophobics this may be triggering!), minwon coworkers mentioned, smut warnings: creampie, unprotected sex, multiple rounds mentioned, backshots, fingering.

word count: 3k

AHEM! go listen to so high school by taylor swift (perhaps while you read!)

author's note!: i listened to taylor waaaay too much while i was writing this, as you can probably tell by the title 🫣 what can i say! guilty. my first time writing slice of life au! i had fun lowkey. AGHHH i just love writing cute mingyu esp when it involves future dad mingyu. the song lyrics are meant to be spacers for the time-skips btw! shoutout to @jenoslutie for also supporting my vision with this 💋 muah xo

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I feel so high school every time I look at you, I wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from you...

Mingyu was your dream man in many ways than one. The perfect boy to bring home to your parents, cooked delicious meals for you, and overall made you feel safe. 

You two had been engaged for months now, and wedding planning was well underway, the date set for early into the new year. As if it wasn’t stressful enough, your mom had already started questioning whether the two of you had wanted children, or planned to in the future. The answer was always the same,

“Mom, I don’t know… we haven’t talked about it into a lot of detail… maybe later on…” or “C’mon, we’re still young, Mom!” 

Mingyu didn’t know any of this, and you’d probably never tell him, not wanting him to feel pressured by your badgering mother. You both knew you wanted children eventually, but you never talked that far into the future.

But… you also thought… maybe you would want to have children, if it was with Mingyu. 

Mingyu would be the father to play dress up and makeovers with your daughter, have tea parties with her, or play with faux tools with your son and pretend to fix things, and play with plastic dinosaurs.

You couldn't picture anybody that would be more perfect to do it with than him.

Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? It's just a game, but really I'm bettin' on all three for us two...

Mingyu stands at the kitchen counter, cooking dinner like he usually does, and he usually insists since he gets home a little earlier from work than you do most days. 

You come from the kitchen after changing out of your work clothes to see him chopping garlic as a pot is boiling on the stove. 

“What are you making?”

“Agio e olio,” Mingyu responds, looking up to smile at you briefly. “I know it’s your favorite, and you said you were craving it.”

You smile, coming over to kiss him on the cheek quickly. “Thank you, you make it so good anyway.” You chuckle as he playfully rolls his eyes. 

He tosses the garlic in a pan on the stove, stirring it a little, then adds the pasta to the boiling water.

You decide now is the time to break your silence, and tell him what’s been on your mind lately.

“Gyu,” You speak up. “… I think we should talk about something.” 

“What?” Mingyu’s gaze turns to meet yours, a concerned look on his face, and you immediately want to kiss him and make it go away.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been thinking…” You pause, racking your brain on how to word what you’re about to tell him, also given that you didn’t want to scare him. “What do you think about us… having a baby?” 

You look up at his undeniable surprised expression; after all you did come out of nowhere with that statement.

“I mean, I know we haven’t really discussed it much, and we’re getting married in a few months… but I have been thinking about it a lot, and I want to, we’re at that age-“ You break out into a nervous ramble before he cuts you off.

“I’ve thought about it too. I thought it should be something that we should…you know… talk about.” Mingyu says.

“I don’t want to put any pressure on you, or I guess, on us.” You continue. “I know we’re not married officially yet, and our wedding isn’t until a few more months, but I don’t know, I think I want to.” 

Mingyu turns to you, smiling ear to ear in the adorable happy puppy way he typically does when he’s over the top excited about something. “I know, me too.”

“Does this mean… we’re trying?” You can’t even hide your smile, your cheeks hurt as you attempt to be the least bit nonchalant.

“Yeah… fuck… c’mere.” Mingyu pulls you closer to him, kissing you fervently.

You pull back, releasing his grip from your waist.

“Hey, after dinner,” You smirk, giggling at his eagerness. “You’re gonna burn your garlic.”

“Mingyu… I can’t, fuck-“ You whine, your face nearly buried into the pillow underneath you.

“Yeah you can baby…” Mingyu grunts, his hand slides up your back to push you down even more. “Taking it all like a good girl…”

You nearly collapse as you can barely hold yourself up anymore, and you’re being pushed forward almost to the headboard from the force of him behind you.

“I’m gonna come, ‘gyu.” You cry, your hand trailing down to rub tight circles on your clit, making your thighs tremble as you push yourself closer to the edge. 

“Go on baby…” Mingyu groans, feeling you get tighter around him. “Cum all over my cock like a good girl.”

You cry his name again as he pushes you over the edge, white-knuckling the sheets as he keeps thrusting inside you, almost even harder.

“Fuck…”  He groans as he slows down, stilling before he comes inside you.

He pulls out, watching himself drip out of you briefly as he curses under his breath, before he pushes it back inside you with two fingers, making you whine.

“Sorry, baby…” Mingyu sweetly apologizes.

You flip over on your back, pulling him down to kiss him.

“I wanna go again…” You say against his lips, pushing his sweaty long hair back.

“Really?” He asks sweetly, leaning down to kiss your neck a few times. “Wasn’t too much?”

“Never…”

Truth, dare, spin bottles, You know how to ball, I know Aristotle Brand new, full-throttle, Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto...

The next few weeks were just the usual. Going into work during the day, shopping for the wedding with your sister, … Mingyu practically never leaving you alone, but that you wouldn’t complain about.

“What kind of flowers are you guys doing?” Your sister asks you. The two of you made plans to get coffee, and you guys typically talked about whatever. She always voiced her opinion on your life whether it was boyfriends, career moves, and now: your wedding.

“White lilies; one of my favorites. Mingyu said I could just pick what I wanted, he’s happy with whatever I choose.” You say.

“That’s sweet,” She smiles, stirring her matcha latte. “Even though, he probably doesn’t care.” She chuckles.

“You’re probably right, I think he has other things on his mind other than flowers.” You laugh, only you know what you mean by that. 

You never told her the both of you had been trying to have a baby.

“I’ve always liked him, though, you know that.” She smiles. “If there’s anybody you marry and spend forever with, i'm glad it’s him. He’s just right for you.”

You smile, glancing down as your gaze flickers on your sparkling engagement ring under the coffee shop lights.

You’re definitely glad it’s him.

“Do you mind if we go into the grocery store down the street? I need to just run in and get a few things.” She asks you.

You nod. “Yeah, that’s fine. I could probably use a few things too.” 

“How do you know if a watermelon is a really good one?” She asks you, as the fruit by the entrance catches her eye.

“You’re asking me?” You laugh. “I have no idea, I have heard though if they’re a dark green, it’s too watery.”

“You were always good at picking them, I know Mom used to always say that.” She replies. “Maybe I won’t get one, are they even in season?”

“Probably not, it’s November. Anyway, what did you need here?” You say, grabbing a hand basket for yourself.

“Just usual stuff, yogurt… eggs, oat milk, some strawberries… whatever else I find that I think i need.” She says, placing strawberries and avocados in her cart. Already straying from the list. 

You follow her, bagging up some apples, cucumbers, and brussel sprouts into your basket. 

You’re both wandering down the ice cream aisle, as you’re grabbing whatever pint of peanut butter ice cream you can find, when your sister speaks up.

“Oh! Let’s go to the hygiene section, I need to get some tampons. That time of the month soon.”

You pause, ice cream in hand, suddenly racking your brain trying to remember when the last time your period was. A few weeks ago? Last month? Were you supposed to get it? Were you late?

“Y/n…? What’s wrong? Everything okay?” She asks, seemingly able to read your inner monologue going on in your head. 

“Y-yeah…” You reply, placing the ice cream in your basket, all while your heart is still racing. Was it joy? Nervousness? “It’s just… I can’t remember the last time I had my period…”

I'm watching American Pie with you on a Saturday night Your friends are around, so be quiet, I'm trying to stifle my sighs 'Cause I feel so high school, Every time I look at you...

“I feel bad doing this without him,” You say, staring down at the two blinking pregnancy tests on the counter. “Mingyu should be here…”

“He’ll be home from work soon won’t he? You’ll tell him then. C’mon, he’ll understand, practically sister code for me to be the first one to know.” She replies, checking the time on her phone. 

It’s true, you both always did tell each other everything before you told anybody else. 

“It’s almost time.”

“I can’t look.” You anxiously turn away. “It’s killing me.”

“How did this happen?” She asks. “I mean… not to be nosey….”

“Well we talked about it, and we’ve been kinda… sorta, trying to get pregnant.” 

“What?! How come you didn’t tell me you were?” She exclaims, playfully shoving you.

“We decided to about a little over a month ago. We talked about it, we decided it was something we both wanted,” You start, just as her phone timer goes off, you quickly turn around from the counter. “Oh my god, oh my god, I can’t look.”

“I’ll do it first,” She says, shoving her way in front of you. “Oh my god… y/n…” You can hear the excitement and smile in her voice.

You turn around, facing the two tests.

You see it, “pregnant”, displayed clearly on both.

“Oh my god, I don’t,” You almost stutter, lost for words. “I- I don’t know what to say.”

“Good news?” She asks.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You smile, suddenly becoming teary, feeling a bunch of emotions at once. Excitement. Nervousness.  “I just- fuck… I wish Mingyu was here. I didn’t want to find out like this.”

“Relax, you’ll tell him later,” She laughs. “Especially ‘cause I know you won’t be able to keep this from him long.”

“No, you’re absolutely right. There’s no way I’m holding it in.”

And in a blink of a crinkling eye I'm sinking, our fingers entwined Cheeks pink in the twinkling lights Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me...

You spend the evening trying to decide elaborate ways that you’ll tell him. 

Putting a test in a gift bag as a present? Corny.

Hiding it somewhere and letting him find it? Too lame.

You decided to literally just come right out and tell him, especially because you didn’t want to figure out some cliche way of getting it out.

Mingyu comes home from work, greeting you as he walks in the door, adorably kissing your forehead as he wraps his arms around you, perfectly engulfing you.

“How was your day, honey?” He sweetly asks you, genuinely curious as he’s awaiting your answer. 

“It was good actually, I had coffee with my sister, then we went to the grocery store, doesn’t sound like much but we had fun.” You lean up and kiss his lips, smiling.

“But it’s better now that you’re here.” 

Mingyu smiles, kissing you again.

“I’m going to get changed really quick, okay?” Mingyu says.

You jokingly pout. “Aw, but you look so nice in your slacks and button up shirt… at least let me savor it.” You reach up, undoing a few buttons on his shirt.

“Enjoying this?” Mingyu chuckles.

“Yes, very.” You smile.

“Well I was gonna ask you, if you wanted to, Wonwoo and Seungcheol asked if we wanted to go out and get dinner with them, and hang out maybe get some drinks.” He continues, before he starts walking off to your shared bedroom to change, as you follow him. “Wonwoo asked me before I left the office.” 

“I don’t know… maybe?” You reply, hesitating a bit.

Meanwhile your mind works a mile a minute trying to think of how to break this news of yours to him.

“It wouldn’t be until a little later, if that’s better. No rush.” Mingyu says, nonchalantly unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off. What a distraction. 

He slips on a white t-shirt , and gray sweatpants; his usual after work attire. Suddenly you wonder if whatever you have to tell him is really that important anyway, and you immediately consider just saying “forget it” and fucking him right here in the early hours of the evening. What’d be the big deal? You were already pregnant, anyways.

No! You quickly shake that thought from your mind, refocusing.

“Gyu,” You start, getting his full attention. “There’s something… I have to tell you something.”

“What?” 

“I’m not even really sure how to tell you, um hang on,” You continue, leaving the room quickly to retrieve one of the pregnancy tests you’d left in the bathroom. 

You come back, very obviously holding something behind your back.

“I guess I should say I kind of have a surprise to tell you.”

“What? What?” Mingyu asks, eager already by the way you’re already smirking, unable to contain yourself.

“It’s, um, this…” You start, pulling the test from behind your back. “I didn’t know how to tell you, I was gonna plan something but I couldn’t wait.” You laugh, smiling ear to ear.

Mingyu takes it from you, seemingly uncaring, or forgetting, that you literally peed on the thing. His mouth drops opened, in awe.

“Oh my god…” He speaks, beaming. “When did you find out?” 

“Today, actually.” You say. “I wound up taking a test, and… yeah.” 

You sigh. “I feel so weird about it, I know I was expecting it but I feel so excited and nervous at the same time.”

You glance up at Mingyu, and you see him still examining the test in his hand.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu nods, his eyes meeting yours and you see he’s now smiling. “I’m just… happy, surprised..”

“I mean, cmon, what were we really expecting…” You joke, blushing.

“You know what I mean, it’s still crazy to me.” Mingyu comes closer to you, kissing you. 

“Yeah, it sure is…” You smile up at him. 

“It’s okay, honey,” Mingyu reassures you, speaking softly. “Just get it out…”

Mingyu kneels behind you on the cold tile floor, holding your hair back as you’re hanging your head over the toilet as your stomach empties its contents.

“There you go…” 

You wonder how he can even stand to be in the bathroom with you, if the roles were reversed, you’d be outside the door nearly gagging.

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks, helping you sit up, as he wraps his arms around you to keep you steady. 

You slowly nod as you flush, still feeling a touch of nausea. “Yeah, can you just- just stay here for a little bit.” 

Mingyu sits on the tile floor as he leans against the bathtub, and he guides you back to sit in front of him.

You lean back into him, and he leans down and kisses your shoulder. You catch a glance at his watch on his wrist even in the dim light of the very early morning.

“Oh my god, Gyu, is it really 5am?” You groggily ask, feeling sorry. “You have to work in the morning, don’t you?”

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s not a big deal.” Mingyu reassures you. “I can always go in a little later, I wanna make sure you’re okay.” 

“…I think I’m good now,” You say, starting to stand up slowly, as Mingyu helps you all the way. “…You know, I have heard that the more nauseas you are, it probably means you’re having a girl. And if you have none at all, it’s probably a boy.”

Mingyu chuckles, “Where do you come up with this? Is that even a thing?” 

“The internet… you know, social media. Everything’s on there.” You protest.

“You’re delirious,” Mingyu playfully rolls his eyes. “Cmon, let’s go back to bed.”

“Gyu, we have to leave in like an hour,” You say, as you’re getting ready in the bathroom, finishing up your final touches on your hair. “I don’t want to be late for dinner at my parents house.”

Mingyu stands in the doorway now, “This okay?” He shows off a navy blue polo shirt and black jeans. 

“Yeah, honey, you look nice.” You smile. “Besides, you could wear anything around her, she adores you anyways.” 

It was true. Your mother would always be calling Mingyu to help around the house when your Father was away on a business trip. She needed help fixing something? She’d call Mingyu. She needs help building a side table? You bet she’s calling Mingyu. His height was also a bonus, being able to reach things stored higher up.

Mingyu smiles at you adoringly, as his eyes trail down your body.

“What?” You ask when you notice him.

“You’re starting to show a little,” He smiles. “You look cute.”

You giggle, placing your hands on your stomach. “Yeah I know, she wants to be seen now, she’s done hiding.” 

“Well, are my girls ready to go?” Mingyu smiles, kissing you. 

“Yeah,” You giggle, smiling as you kiss him again. “Let’s go.” 

It's true, swear, scouts honor You knew what you wanted and boy, you got her.

tags: @jenoslutie @wonuwrites @aaniag @cosmojinyoung

[drchucktingle]

sometimes buds ask’ what is it like to be a neurodivergent artist?’ and this is great summary: the charts can look like this, and at same time people will be endlessly posting on how you are ‘not real’ or ‘a bit’. you can hold bestsellers in slot 1 to 4 and still not be 'serious'

i am ultimately ok with this. i love my trot and would not have it any other way, but i think it is worth investigation. when irony poisoning has seeped into everything, how many times does a neurodivergent person have to say ‘actually this is NOT so bad its good. its just good’

when you are autistic, or queer, or both, how much proof do you need to be considered good art? or good business? what do the charts have to look like for me to be a ‘real’ author? or allowed my face mask at a library association conference? or one person not a group of writers?

im coming up on a decade of writing tinglers soon, and people are still talkin about my ‘serious’ works vs my ‘joke books’ and at every turn, as kindly as i can, i shout from the rooftops: THEY ARE ALL SERIOUS BOOKS. THIS IS NOT A BIT.

but its hard when buds have had ‘the correct way to be a writer. the correct way to be an artist. the COOL way to react to a book that is TOO weird’ pounded into their heads by internet culture. 'kill it with fire' they say. 'i need eye bleach' they say without thinking. a line.

heres the thing, the tide IS turning. theres buckaroos jumping in and saying, ‘I want to be a part of this’ and for that they are being rewarded. the publisher who took me seriously is lookin pretty dang good right now with these charts and these sales. i am honored and moved

over time there will be more buds who shed that irony mask. the tide of sincerity is powerful, and the tide of love is inevitable. it is difficult to stand strong in our uniqueness but it also pays off, and I hope to be a shining example. eventually THE TIMELINE BENDS TO YOU

so this is not a thread to complain. i have been trotting long enough that these things do not really bother me. being made fun of and disparaged as ‘not legit art’ while also being objectively successful at the things im made fun of about is kind of the ocean that i swim in.

no. my point of this is to say THANK YOU to those of you who have been trotting by my side over these years. THANK YOU for proving love to me. im so honored by your support, and you should know that YOU have seen beyond the irony poisoned veil that stops many others. YOU get it.

and to those with their own unique perspective on creation: look what you can do. yes there will likely be a lot of resistance to something different, but there is also a LOT of reward. YOU can trot a new path. YOU can prove love is real, not in MY way, but IN YOUR OWN WAY

anyway thank you for reading buckaroos. thank you for your support. LUCKY DAY comes out next summer and it is probably as FAR OUT and existential as the tingleverse has ever gone. you can preorder it here

[rinawantstosleep]

𖹭༉‧°𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪

bf satoru x fem single mom reader

wc: 1.1k

— a pair of troublemakers residing in your house; both of whom are (unintentionally!) dead-set on making themselves the death of you.

"I don't like your stupid, white hair." 

"And I don't like your boring, brown hair, buddy."

"W-well... well, I don't like your ugly, doo-doo face!"

"Your mama does." 

The two could go bickering like this for hours on end if you let them. What may seem to be a mutually digressive arrangement is actually an oddly adorable bonding in disguise. Satoru and your son put on a front of being annoyed at the other's presence, but you've never seen them apart for longer than a few minutes at a time. They've grown on each other; much like how moss grows on a statue that's been lingering out in the open. An indispensable cycle of life that's truly inevitable. 

"No, she doesn't! She doesn't! She likes... sof- sofis... sofistogated guys."

"You mean sophisticated?"

"Shut up!" 

You'd been terrified that your little one wouldn't have a father-figure to rely on anymore after you divorced your husband. However, it was something you had to do for his sake. The child deserved to live in an environment that wasn't always reeking of alcohol, where he wasn't subjected to the constant, drunk yelling of a pathetic excuse of a father who couldn't get his shit together and lazed around at home all day while you did all the work. If that meant that you'd have to raise him on his own, then so be it. At least he'd be raised properly. Signing those papers was, by far, the easiest decision you'd ever made. 

"I'm not shutting up because a kid in clothes too big for him is telling me to."

"You... you're the one always wearing tight clothes around the house to impress my mama."

"No, that's because I'm ripped. Gotta show off what I've got. And your mama loves that." 

"Oh, yeah? That means you show off your... your - um... ugly, doo-doo face!"

Would you regard it a miracle that Satoru just so happened to stumble into your life around that very time? Well, relatively. Meeting him wasn't something you'd planned, nor anticipated. The kind stranger who offered to pay for your order at a café a year ago has somehow, thanks to quite a romantic sequence of events, turned into your boyfriend; a rock to lean on for when you need the support. And, also, someone that your little one can look up to (with the fun, bonus benefit of the pair getting into silly, childish quarrels nine times out of ten). What is Satoru if not a three-hundred-and-thirty-six-month-old toddler, too? Puts your five-year-old to utter shame with the way he acts. 

"Enough. Baby, we've been over this before. Behave."

"But, mama, he's being a meanie!" "But, babe, he's acting all pretentious." 

The responses come simultaneously: one is high pitched and whiny, and the other is your son. Sometimes, you have to pause and ask yourself how you haven't gone insane yet. It's the love that keeps you from falling apart. How could you ever harbor any other feeling for these two, except for wanting to cherish them? You just... need to work on a pet name that doesn't apply to the both of them at once.  

"I don't want to hear it. Sweetie, finish your lunch. And, Satoru?" 

"Yes, honey-who-loves-me-and-my-'ugly, doo-doo'-face?" He's smirking, snickering, while saying this, the sly bastard. When will the pair ever relent on trying to one-up the other? 

"Why have you got one of my hair ties on your wris- never mind. Don't forget to change the sheets in our room. I'd do it myself if not for the meeting I need to get to in an hour." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

Cue a tiny gasp. 

"But, mama..." The voice of your little one breaks the peaceful silence at the dining table once again. His legs start kicking back and forth - a sign that he's growing restless - from the chair they're dangling off of. He's got a protest already forming up in that head of his. "Toru said he'd take me to the skate park today. And he promised to get ice cream after."

Toru, huh? That's new. You can't help the smile that paints itself on your lips. The two have been getting along pretty well, it seems, contrary to all the bickering they do. That's always nice to know. It's amusing to see the dynamic they've built. One second, they're riling each other up to no end, the next, they've already formed a secret alliance to go out and have fun together. How cute. "Is that so?"

"Mhm! So that means we need to leave riiight after I finish my lunch. Don't get mad, okay?" 

It's the small things like these that warm your heart. Some sacrifices can be made if it's in regards to this adorable (step, even though you haven't married Satoru yet)father-son moment. The sheets are insignificant right now. "Awwh. Of course I won't get mad, baby. It's good for you to want to spend more time with Satoru. Isn't he a fun guy?"

"... maybe." 

. . . 

"Just make sure he's safe out there. Helmet and gear on at all times, no big ramps. And don't let him eat too much sugar. He'll get hyper. Once the rush dies down, he'll get cranky -"

Satoru's arm wraps around your waist before you can finish your sentence, pulling you overwhelmingly close to his frame. Instinctively, your arms move to wrap around his neck, just the way Satoru likes it. Oh, how he wants to just throw everything else out the window and drag you to the nearest room with a lock in place.

"You -" A quick peck to your lips, followed by a nibble on your bottom lip. "- worry -" Another peck. "- too -" Another. "- much." Then, an unexpected bite on the shell of your right ear. "I'd never allow myself to let that little demon get hurt; or hyper."

Large hands wander across the curve of your back, resting firm on your butt. Satoru doesn't want to expose your son to the way he's squeezing your plush flesh with his long digits, so he shifts to have your back pressed against the wall. A perfect opportunity to kiss you - which the man can't help but seize. What else is a smitten boyfriend to do while waiting for your son to get ready and come down from his room upstairs? Lips against lips until one of you pulls away for air. "He's safe with me, okay?" 

"Okay." 

"Atta girl. Now, you go to that meeting of yours. And, tonight, after we both get back- oww."

"Groooss! Don't kiss my mama, or you'll make her ugly! Like youuu!"

"Baby, no. Don't kick Satoru's ankles-"

"I'm saving you, mama."

with 𖹭, rina !!

[mclqren]

BALLERINA ★ LN4

PAIRING ✦ lando norris x fem!ballerina!reader

SUMMARY ✦ you play odette in the 'swan lake' ballet, and you manage to capture the attention of an f1 driver who has come to watch [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ cursing

REQUESTED ✦ here!

NOTES ✦ reader plays odette in the swan lake ballet, and is british. she’s good friends with carmen, george’s girlfriend. the fc i've used is pdm.clara, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)

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liked by yourbsf, carmenmmundt, and 1,291 others

yourusername crazy to be beginning this journey, and this is only the start!! thank you to everyone who's supported me, can't wait to be odette 💗

view all comments

user1 you're soooo pretty!! 🩷

yourusername aw thank youuu!! 💗

user2 my family and i went to see it tonight and it was SO GOODD! ur so talented it's crazy ❤️

yourusername thank you sm, im so glad you enjoyed it!! 💗

yourbsf my best frienddd!! such a cutie fr

yourusername i love you so much its crazy 💗

carmenmmundt so pretty!!

yourusername love you carm 💗

landonorris

( caption one: tagging along + tags 🙄😘 )

yourusername

( caption one: behind the scenes 📸 | caption two: night two = over! absolutely insane 💗 )

imessages ( lando )

liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt, and 2,008 others

yourusername life recently 🩰

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user3 you're so good in swan lake omg

yourusername thank you sm!! 💗

user4 I LOVE HERR

user5 okay lando norris in the likes hello??

user6 after he went to see the show with george and carmen as well?? this can't be a coincidence.

yourbsf my girl 🩷

yourusername foreverrr!

user7 im obsessed.

yourusername 💗

imessages ( lando )

imessages ( y/n )

landonorris

( caption one: in london for a bit! | caption two: fun times 😉 )

liked by landonorris, alex_albon, and 5,910 others

yourusername day off's been fun 📸

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user10 Y/N HAS A MANNN???

user11 STOP IT RN :(

user12 she's stunningggg

yourusername no you!! 💗

user13 she's such a sweetheart

user14 the pink flowers omg he knows ur fav colour

carmenmmundt i hope he's treating you right! 😘

yourusername so far so good 🤞

user15 ALL OF THE 2019 ROOKIES IN HER LIKES??

user16 oh she has to have a thing w lando.

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63, and 956,221 others

tagged yourusername

landonorris when your girlfriend's a ballerina who can cook (somewhat) 😱❤️

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user20 LANDO HARD LAUNCHING HELLOOO?

user21 DID NOT EXPECT THIS WOWWW

user22 SHE'S SO SWEET AW

user23 LANDO NORRIS BAGS A GIRL

alex_albon absolutely no one had faith in you but it's nice to see you managed to get her anyway! 😊

landonorris by no one do you mean you and george?

georgerussell63 we had zero faith in you but it's nice to see you got the girl of your dreams!

yourusername GIRL OF YOU DREAMS AWWW LANDOOO

landonorris LOOK AWAY Y/N

yourusername ur def punching w me but its okay! not everyone is as good a chef as i am 💗

landonorris im a great cook?

yourusername hon ur not fooling anyone

liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt, and 13,810 others

tagged landonorris

yourusername when your boyfriend is an f1 driver who sleeps whenever he touches a soft surface 😘😘

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user24 AW THEY'RE SO CUTEEE

user25 the last slide LOOLLL

user26 she's feeding us w these lando crumbs!!

carmenmmundt if he ever treats you wrong im right here as a backup option x

yourusername ur on speed dial dw x

georgerussell63 hello???

carmenmmundt on a more positive note DOUBLE DATE TIME WOOHOOO

lilymhe plot twist TRIPLE DATE TIME

yourusername I CONSENT YES

alex_albon they've met already oh dear

landonorris isnt this fun!

landonorris the last pic 🤨🤨

yourusername i had to include a picture to fit my aesthetic 💗

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[gothcsz]

December | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 6 of Unscripted Desire | ~16k wc | Series Masterlist | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Your winter getaway with Javier.

Tags: alternating pov, javi is having an identity crisis, established relationship, fluff (i cringe), romance (still cringing), smut (no longer cringing), jealous!javi, oh no the triple frontier boys are here, oral (m&f), p in v sex, once again: javi is clipped, filming a sex tape, dirty porn talk, hot tub sex, pussy/dick pronouns, javi puts you in a headlock (i've been influenced by all the headlock fics also stream headlock by imogen heap), breath control play, squirting, clit stimulation, no use of y/n, reader has some vague physical descriptions (mid-sized, curvy, hair that can have fingers run through), any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay thx.

A/N: happy holidays ❄️ i wanted to do something fun for the season and to thank everyone who has supported this story so far! i love you guys 🩵 as always, thank you @persephone-girl for reading over bits of this and being my emotional support hehe

You’ve barely shut the door when a loud, frustrated “Fuck!” echoes through your apartment, followed by the unmistakable clatter of things hitting the floor. Your brows knit together as you toss your keys into the bowl by the entrance and hang your bag on the back of a kitchen chair.

The sight waiting for you confirms your suspicions: your very hot, very frustrated boyfriend is pacing in the middle of the room, his broad shoulders tight with tension. Scattered across the coffee table and floor around him are puzzle pieces.

“Javi,” you say, crossing your arms as you take in the scene. “What’s going on?”

He stops mid-stride, scowling down at the pieces as though they’ve personally insulted him. “The fucking puzzle is broken,” he gestures angrily toward the mess.

You blink at him, biting back a grin. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point. You have to put it back together.” Your voice lilts with playful teasing, hoping to lighten the mood he is in.

He shoots you a look that’s equal parts annoyed and sheepish. Stepping forward, you place yourself squarely in his path, wrapping your arms around his waist.

He’s got no choice but to halt his pacing, and after a moment, his arms drop heavily around you. You can feel the frustration draining out of him like air from a balloon.

“Estoy volviéndome loco, nena.” His chest rises and falls in a heavy exhale, hands instinctively finding their place on your lower back. 

You look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. It’s hard not to get lost in his good looks—those dark, soulful eyes, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his hair falls perfectly so, no matter how much he’s been raking his fingers through it.

He could be pissed at the entire world, and he’d still be the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

He told you he was done with porn, and he meant it. It didn’t happen all at once, he stuck to solo work until he lost the passion for it entirely before finally cutting ties with his agent and declaring himself “retired.”

The checks will keep coming, sure, but they aren’t a permanent safety net. That left your boyfriend at a crossroads, staring down the daunting question of what came next.

“Fuck, I don’t know. What else am I even good at?”

Now, Pornstar Javier Peña is just… Javi. Without the glitz and veneer of his former life, he’s a bit of a mess, honestly. A hot mess, sure, but a mess all the same.

He spends most of his days drifting between your apartment and his place, and more often than not, it’s your bed he ends up in. Sometimes he’s sprawled on the couch, lazily surfing through the channels, other times he’s fast asleep, limbs tangled in your sheets, his brow furrowed even while dreaming.

It’s like he’s waiting for the pieces of himself to fall into place but has no idea where to start.

You have, actually, tried helping him find new interests, with mixed results.

Cooking classes? A bust—too many rules and timers for someone who likes to work off instinct. Hiking? Not his thing, and you’d barely made it halfway up the trail before he declared he needed a cold beer and a hot shower. Pottery seemed promising for about five minutes before a poorly shaped bowl sent him muttering a string of Spanish curses under his breath and he quit then and there.

It’s not that he’s… bad at these things, necessarily, but none of them feel true to him.

“Baby, you’re not going to figure out who you are overnight. It takes time,” you murmur, tilting your head up to press a kiss to the tip of his chin, the roughness of his stubble brushing against your lips.

He grumbles. “I’m impatient.”

“I noticed,” you tease, a giggle slipping out as your hands sneak under his shirt. Your fingers trail along his ribs, stroking the warm, solid muscle there. The quiet hum of satisfaction you let out isn’t for his benefit—it’s for you. He feels so damn good under your touch, like he was built to be admired.

Javier shifts slightly, straightening up as if your hands have hit a reset button on his mood. “How was your day?”

You started a new job with the camera crew on an actual film set, and it’s a sweet gig, the opportunity kind of landing in your lap out of nowhere. Someone you knew from college reached out, and the pay was too good to pass up, even if the work itself wasn’t all that different from what you’ve done on porn sets.

Less dicks and tits, but the same technical work. When you’re not on set, you’re still clinging to the comfort of your shifts at Lucky’s. 

You shrug lightly, nuzzling into him. “Same as always. Nothing too exciting. But I’m glad I don’t have to work the bar tonight. Maybe I can help you with that puzzle.” You tease.

“Or…” His tone shifts so quickly it’s almost dizzying—warm and doting one second, low and sinful the next. His hands drift south, firmly gripping your ass and giving it a harsh squeeze

“Or?” you repeat, your arousal flaring.

That’s all the invitation he needs.

In no time, you find yourself naked and sprawled against the coffee table, the surface pressing into your back while scattered puzzle pieces stick to your damp skin. But none of that matters—not when Javier is between your legs, his broad shoulders holding you open like a prize only he gets to claim.

His mouth is buried in your pussy, wet and eager tongue moving with a purpose that has your thighs trembling. He laps at you expertly, each flick and thrust inside your cunt dragging whimpers out of you, your body singing under his touch.

Javier groans, the sound vibrating against your pussy. “You taste so,” kiss, “fucking,” lick, “good,” suck. Your back arches and you sob his name loudly, eyes fluttering close at how good he is at eating you out.

No matter how many times he does it, he somehow manages to surpass the time before. Men like Javier are a rare thing, and you’re annoyed at yourself for not succumbing to him earlier. You just had to prove a fucking point.

He pulls back just enough to lick and bite at your inner thigh, trying to control himself from devouring you whole, before diving back in. His hands keep you pinned to the edge of the table as you shake uncontrollably in his grasp.

Every obscene noise he makes is matched by the wet, filthy sounds of his tongue working you over and you feel the pressure winding tighter and tighter. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling as you gasp his name, and the pleased growl he gives in response sends you careening over.

He doesn’t stop, not until your body shudders and you’re left panting, your limbs heavy and boneless. When he finally lifts his head, mustache damp and lips glistening, he’s looking at you with that satisfied smirk you’ve grown accustomed to seeing.

“Fuck, I could stay down here for hours.” His voice tapers off into a groan and he doesn’t wait for a reply before pressing soft kisses along your drenched folds, letting his teeth scrape ever so lightly against your sensitive flesh. Then his tongue, broad and sinful, drags a slow, torturous stripe from your entrance to your clit.

“You could… if you wanted to,” you pant, your voice barely above a whisper as your body gears up for even more pleasure. You pull him closer, grinding your hips against his face, feeling the delicious pressure of his nose pressing against your swollen nub.

Javier lets you take what you need, his large hands gripping your thighs to hold you steady while his tongue thrusts back inside, exploring every fluttering inch. His curved nose rubs against your clit with each motion, sending you into a fucking frenzy.

You’re shameless, unabashedly humping his face, chasing the high only he can give you. And he loves it—thrives on it—his tongue relentless as it maps out every curve and crevice of your pussy. The slick, creamy mess makes it easier for you to move, his grunts and your mewling cries swirling together.

“Javi, I want to come on your cock—oh fuck!” The words tumble out before you can stop them, and his answer is a wicked nip of his teeth against your labia, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

“You will, nena,” he murmurs, his voice slurred with lust as he adjusts your legs, planting your feet at the edge of the table. He spreads you open obscenely, his dark eyes gleaming as he takes in the sight of your wet pussy laid bare for him. “But first, you’re gonna come all over my tongue again. Puta madre, you’re so fucking hot.”

His tongue flicks over your pearl rapidly and your back arches off the table as euphoria courses through you. You glance down, locking eyes with him, and the pruriency in his gaze sends you tumbling over the edge.

“Javier, oh shit!” You’re left helpless against the onslaught of his mouth, gushing all over his handsome face as he keens in satisfaction.

You collapse back against the table, your body spent and your mind still buzzing. Javier wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning smugly down at you, his girthy cock hanging heavy between you, droplets of precum squirting from the slit and drizzling down the heated shaft.

Pros of dating a pornstar: He can fuck. Cons of dating a pornstar: He can fuck.

It’s like being in a constant state of delicious ruin, where your needs—both romantic and sexual—are met in ways you never thought possible.

But damn, this man knows how to wear you the fuck out.

Sometimes he gets a little too ambitious. Twisting, bending, and pulling you into positions that make you pause and remind him, between panting breaths, that you’re not as flexible as the women he’s been with before.

“Practice makes perfect, baby,” he always says with that infuriatingly charming grin, right before fucking you so thoroughly that you forget how to breathe.

This time is no different. Javier hovers over you with the kind of dominance that makes your pussy clench, his strong hands gripping your body like he owns it.

Somehow, he’s managed to maneuver you on the awkward height of the coffee table, one leg slung over his broad shoulder while keeping your opposite thigh spread wide.

Then, with a sharp thrust, his fat cock splits you open, stretching your pussy in a way that’s so brutally perfect.

The force of it knocks a loud yelp from your lips, your forearms press against the table for balance. You can’t look away from where your bodies meet, watching in filthy fascination as your sticky folds swallow him whole and spit him back out, his cock glistening with the rich evidence of how turned on you are.

“My fucking god,” he growls, words laden with desperation, “you feel better than you fucking taste.” He spits the words out, literally, a thick bead of saliva falling from his lips to land on your cunt.

Without missing a beat, his thumb moves to your clit, pressing down and swirling in tight circles.

The pressure makes your entire body tense, a strained cry of his name tearing from your throat.

Your tits bounce wildly with every rough thrust, and his dark eyes flicker between the hypnotic sway of your breasts and the lewd sight of your pussy stretched tight around his dick.

Your mouth hangs open, brows furrowed as helpless sounds spill out while his cock punches deep into that one spot that has colorful dots blotching your vision. Your toes curl as the overwhelming feeling builds, your body on the verge of complete surrender.

“Right there, baby—oh fuck me, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” You sound wrecked, like you’ve been possessed by the pleasure he’s giving you. Your back falls flat against the table again, your hands reaching up to squeeze your tits, pulling at your nipples as you let him use your cunt however he wants. 

He deserves it.

Loose curls fall over his face, making him look so sexy while he fucks into you with everything he’s got. His tongue pokes out in concentration, his fingertips dimpling the plush skin of your thighs as he holds you steady. The poor coffee table groans beneath the brutal rhythm, creaking with every hard snap of his hips.

It doesn’t take much more—your body seizes up as you come hard, the orgasm crashing through you so violently that you’re certain you’re going to pass out. Your pussy clamps down around his shaft, milking him for everything he’s worth.

“Fuck, take it,” he groans, his pace faltering as he spills inside you, thick ropes of cum filling your pussy until you swear you can feel it gurgling in your throat. The vicious, overwhelming sensation makes you shudder, your body twitching as his weight settles against you, his cock still buried deep inside your quivering walls.

You feel pulverized, your body humming in content, but all you can think is: God, this man could fuck me to death, and I’d die happy.

Immediately, your calf seizes, the muscle knotting painfully as a piercing cry slices through your throat. Your body jerks involuntarily, hands pressing against Javier’s chest to push him off you.

“Shit, stop— cramp!” you gasp.

Javier freezes, his face instantly morphing from focused lust to deep concern. He pulls out of you carefully, hissing at the feeling, his touch tender as he lowers your trembling leg from his shoulder. “Where? Here?” He’s already massaging the rigid knot in your calf with his strong, calloused hands.

“Yeah—fuck, ow! Right there.” Another pang shoots through you, and you wince, clutching at the edge of the coffee table for stability. “I keep telling you I’m not fit for—ahh, ow!—your crazy-ass positions.”

He huffs a little laugh, though his hands never stop their steady kneading. “It wasn’t that crazy,” he mutters defensively, but one warning glare from you is enough to shut him up.

Once the cramp begins to ease, your body relaxes against the table with a long sigh. Javier’s touch softens, his thumbs now sweeping soothing circles over your calf. He leans down and presses a kiss to the tender muscle, murmuring, “Sorry, nena. Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Your heart swells at his care, and you can’t help but grin as he kisses his way up your body. His lips trace a slow, reverent path—your pelvis, the softness of your belly, the suppleness of each breast, the hollow of your throat. By the time his mouth meets yours, your annoyance is completely forgotten, replaced by a lazy, bubbling affection.

This is the first real kiss he’s given you since you got home, and it’s the kind that melts you from the inside out. You hum against his lips, your tongue tracing the curve of his mouth, savoring the way he tastes like sex and something inherently Javi.

When the kiss finally breaks, you both sit there for a moment, naked and tangled together, his cum still slick between your thighs and smearing against the surface of the table.

“I’ll try to be more considerate next time,” he says, almost teasingly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

You smirk, dragging your nails lightly down his chest. “You better, or I’ll start vetoing these gymnastic stunts of yours.”

He chuckles, his eyes dropping briefly to where his cum is trickling from you. A rueful grin spreads across his face as he reaches for the shirt he’d discarded earlier and uses it to clean the mess between your legs.

The simple domesticity of the act makes your chest ache in the best way.

As he finishes, you stretch your arms over your head, your muscles still warm and loose despite the cramp. “I need a shower, some real food... and maybe another round later.”

“Only maybe?” He raises an eyebrow, his dimpled, teasing smile returning.

You hum thoughtfully, your gaze tracing the defined line of his jaw as your finger follows. “If you think sex is gonna be a distraction from the mess in your head, think again.”

“It’s the best distraction,” he mutters. “Would rather make my girl feel good than deal with everything else.”

“And while I’m flattered, baby, it’s not the healthiest thing you can do.”

His expression falters, the cockiness slipping away like a mask being gently peeled back. “I’m fuckin’ terrible at this. Always have been,” he mutters, his hands roaming your body as if touching you might patch together all that’s unraveling inside him.

His palms are warm and firm, one cupping your breast in a gentle squeeze, the other sliding down to rest at your hip.

He kneads and caresses you, almost like you’re the one who needs the comfort instead of him. “I’ve spent so much time doing what I thought people wanted from me. Now I don’t even know what I want.”

“There’s no rush to figure it out, you know. No one’s expecting you to and I promise you’re not the only person that feels this way.”

“Feels like I’ve got nothin’ to show for myself, though. Just a pile of bullshit and a broken puzzle.”

You sit up, drawing his focus to you as your hands grip his toned biceps to steady yourself. “Hey.” Your voice is soft but insistent. “You’ve got more than you think. And I happen to like this version of you—even if he’s a grump.”

A faint smirk breaks through the inner struggle that clouds in his eyes. “Yeah? Even when I’m bein’ a lazy ass?”

“Even then,” you tease, grinning back at him.

His gaze lingers, drinking you in with an intensity that makes your stomach flutter. Slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours. You’re weightless, floating in the way only Javi can make you feel when he kisses you like this.

“I don’t deserve you, you know that?” he murmurs against your lips, his forehead resting against yours.

“It’s always nice to be reminded.”

He rolls his eyes playfully, his teeth catching your lower lip in a gentle bite before he finally lets you go. He stands, offering you his hand to pull you to your feet.

As you wobbly get up, a few puzzle pieces that had clung to your skin fall to the floor, catching both your attention. Javi chuckles, a little more relaxed than before. “Should’ve cleaned those up before spreading you open like that.”

“I feel like there’s a metaphor in there somewhere.”

He turns you gently so he can pluck off the remaining pieces, his hand lingering to deliver a playful slap to your ass which makes you giggle.

“You know,” you say after a beat, glancing at him, “this puzzle thing could be good for you. Builds patience.”

He arches a brow, skepticism written all over his face. “Once again, that isn’t exactly my strong suit, cariño.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Your grin is infectious as you nudge him lightly with your shoulder. “But maybe that’s what you need right now. Something slow. Something that’s just for you. And something that isn’t…” You trail off, eyes darting to the box abandoned on the couch. “A hideous horse puzzle. God, Javi, what even is this? I’d be pissed trying to put it together too.”

A scoff escapes him, sharp and playful, his brown eyes narrowing as he straightens. “First of all, it’s vintage,” he says, the mock defense in his tone making you laugh.

“Vintage? That’s not an excuse.” You’re already stepping back when you see the shift in his stance, the way his hand twitches toward you. “Don’t even think about it.”

But it’s too late. His fingers dart out in an attempt to pinch your side, and you squeal, darting out of reach. The sound of your laughter fills the room, loud and unrestrained as you scramble to keep distance between the two of you. He’s, unsurprisingly, quicker, his footsteps closing behind as he chases you down the hallway.

Just as you reach the bathroom door, his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against his naked body. You’re both breathless, his warm breath fanning against your ear as he holds you close. “Gotcha.”

Your heart pounds, your laughter subsiding into soft, breathy chuckles as you twist to face him. The sparkle in his eyes is undeniable and you let him walk you backwards into the bathroom with the intention of piping you down again before finally letting you shower.

The late afternoon light filters through the half-closed blinds, casting warm, golden stripes across Javier’s bedroom. You’re sprawled on his bed, your legs stretched out, absently flipping through a magazine. 

The quiet creak of the bedroom door catches your attention, and your eyes lift to meet his.

He leans against the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame, arms crossed over his chest. His white t-shirt clings to his torso in a way that makes your thighs rub together, the fabric stretched taut over his solid build. There’s a small grin on his lips as he watches you.

“Hey,” he drawls, finally pushing off the door and crossing the room.

“Hi.”

Without hesitation, he climbs onto the bed, his weight shifting the mattress beneath you. He crawls toward you, settling his head on your lap and nuzzling against your stomach. You can’t help but laugh softly, moving the magazine out of his way and onto the bedside table.

“You’re comfortable,” you tease, your fingers threading through his thick hair, twisting a few strands absently around your finger.

His eyes flutter shut at your touch, a satisfied hum rumbling from his chest. “Can’t help it. I’ve got the best pillow.”

You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. “Can I help you?”

He opens one eye, peering up at you with a smirk. “I have a gift for you.”

Your brows lift, curious. “A gift?”

“Mm-hmm,” he mutters against your skin, peppering your jawline with lazy, affectionate kisses. The bristle of his mustache has goosebumps curling over your skin. “Tis the season.” He punctuates the sentiment with a playful nip at your neck, making you squeal softly before he pulls away.

“Come on,” he tugs gently at your hand and coaxes you off the bed.

You let him guide you into the kitchen, your bare feet padding against the cool floor. He pulls out a barstool, gesturing for you to sit as he reaches for something on the counter. With a small flourish, he places a travel magazine in front of you, flipping it open to a glossy spread.

Your eyes land on the page, and your breath catches. The images are of a stunning ski resort, nestled in snow-dusted mountains with cozy lodge interiors and breathtaking views of the slopes.

“You didn’t…” you whisper, your voice caught between disbelief and excitement.

His lips tug into a wolfish smile, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes as he watches the realization dawn on your face.

“You didn’t!” you exclaim, jumping up from the stool and throwing your arms around his neck.

Your momentum nearly topples him, but he steadies the both of you with a low chuckle.

You’d mentioned it what feels like ages ago—a casual, offhand story about that ill-fated trip to the mountains with your college friends.

Everything about it had gone wrong. The busted gear, the unexpected blizzard—but through all the chaos, you’d confessed how badly you still wanted to cross skiing off your bucket list.

And Javier remembered. Not just the story, but the way your eyes had lit up despite the unfortunate circumstances. Now here he is, ready to give you that second chance—the best do-over of all time, with him.

“I had to,” he murmurs by your ear. “Spending a week on a winter retreat with you seems a lot more fun than going home this year.”

You don’t press about his family, knowing it’s a tricky subject. Instead, you let the moment settle, your heart swelling with gratitude for his thoughtfulness.

“You’re the best,” you say between a flurry of kisses, peppering his face until his deep chuckle vibrates against your palms. His eyes crinkle at the corners, happiness radiating from him as he gazes down at you.

“The best for you,” he replies softly. “You deserve this, nena. Workin’ so hard all the time… I just wanted to give you somethin’ special.”

You shake your head, grinning so hard it hurts your cheeks. “Do you know how impossible it’s going to be to top this?”

He laughs, the sound rich and warm. “I wasn’t expecting anything in return.”

“What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t get my man a gift?” You’re already racking your brain for ideas. It has to be something meaningful—something that feels right for him, not just a wallet or some cologne.

He pulls you onto his lap when he sits on the barstool, going over the details. 

Everything’s covered, he explains—all you have to do is pack and show your pretty ass up. Your excitement bubbles over at the thought, visions of cozy lodge nights and snowy adventures filling your mind.

“Guess I need to go shopping,” you say, already making mental plans to call Connie for help picking out the perfect wardrobe.

Javi chuckles, leaning in to kiss your temple. “Just don’t forget to pack a swimsuit.”

“A swimsuit? For a ski trip?”

He grins, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Hot tubs, nena. Trust me, I plan on having a lot of fun with you while we’re away.”

The resort feels like a dream you don’t want to wake up from. It’s only been a few days, and you’re already dreading your departure.

Javier really hadn’t held back, booking a private cabin with sweeping views of the snow-kissed mountain horizon.

A real Christmas tree stands proudly in the corner of the living room, next to the fireplace, its lights twinkling softly against the glassy expanse of the giant windows that line the walls.

Despite the openness, the space feels warm and intimate, like it was made just for the two of you.

And then there’s the hot tub. Nestled in the patio area overlooking the gorgeous scenery, it practically beckons you to defile it, steam curling up against the chilled glass. 

You’ve been biding your time, waiting for the right moment to unveil the gift you have for him. It’s actually kind of genius and the perfect way to help pull him out of his post-porn funk. 

For now, though, you’re content to let the days unfold naturally, filled with skiing lessons, childish snowball fights outside your cabin, and lots of great sex.

The lift sways gently as it carries you and Javier up the mountain, the cool air biting at your cheeks, though you barely notice.

Your attention drifts to him, as it often does—his profile sharp and striking against the backdrop of the rising sun. The golden light casts a glow over the snowy peaks, painting the scene in colors too beautiful to let slip away.

You shift closer to him, the insulated fabric of your jacket brushing against his as you tilt your head to rest on his shoulder. His arm instinctively drapes across your lap, steadying you, his gloved hand giving your thigh a light squeeze.

“Take a picture with me,” your voice is eager, breaking the quiet hum of the lift.

Javier turns his head, a brow quirked beneath the edge of his snow goggles. “Now? On this thing?”

“Yes, now.” You’re already moving to pull the small camera out of your pocket. “The view is perfect, and I want to remember this.”

He chuckles, leaning back slightly to give you space to situate the camera. “Alright, but if you drop it, don’t start bitching at me.”

You roll your eyes, holding the camera up and adjusting the angle to capture the two of you against the sprawling mountains bathed in warm hues, making the snow sparkle. 

You make sure to move both of your goggles so they’re resting atop of your head, your faces on full display.

Javier tilts his head closer to yours, his hand slipping to your waist to pull you snug against him.

“Smile,” you say, though you know it’s unnecessary—he’s already grinning, that playful smirk you’ve come to adore on his pouty pink lips.

The camera clicks as you take a few photos. Smiling, him kissing your cheek, and you quickly check the screen once you’re finished, heart warming at the sight of the two of you.

“See? Perfect.” You declare, showing him the pictures.

He glances at them, mirroring the same doting expression you’d just made. “You make ‘em look perfect, nenita.”

As the lift continues to ascend, you find yourself watching him more than the scenery. 

It’s hard not to marvel at the layers to this man who had once driven you up the wall. You think back to when you first met him—how easily you’d pegged him as cocky and self-centered, someone who wore his charm like a defense mechanism.

It feels surreal now, knowing how wrong you were. Javier wasn’t just the confident pornstar that could command a room with just a look or a smile. He was thoughtful, protective, and deeply giving in ways that made your heart stutter. You can’t fathom how someone like his ex would ever think about cheating on him.

Lost in thought, you don’t realize you’ve gone quiet until he glances down at you, brows knitting slightly.

“What’s on your mind, cariño?”

“You really surprise me, you know that?”

His expression shifts, the teasing edge softening into something more earnest. “Surprise you how?”

“I thought I had you all figured out when we first met.”

His mustache twitches as he bites back a knowing grin. “In your defense, I didn’t let you see more than that.” 

“Yeah, I know...” You laugh lightly, shaking your head. “But I couldn’t have been more wrong. You’re… so much more than I gave you credit for.”

He’s quiet for a second, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Guess I should thank you for giving me a chance to prove you wrong.”

You lean in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, nose scrunching as the hairs of his mustache tickle you. “You’ve done more than just prove me wrong, Javi.”

The lift jerks slightly as it approaches the landing, but neither of you move right away. The world feels quieter here, suspended between earth and sky, just the two of you and the golden light.

“You’re going to make me fall for you talkin’ like that.”

You feel warmth spreading in your chest at his words, wondering if it’s too soon to start catching feelings like this.

You smile against his mouth, not saying anything yet not needing to, before pulling back to move your face covering up and adjust your goggles back over your eyes in preparation to go down the snowy hill.

Your shoulders ache slightly from today’s falls, but it’s the kind of soreness that feels good—earned, but nevertheless annoying. Like now, as you pick yourself up from yet another fall, calling it quits.

“You held out a lot longer than I expected.” Javier teases, his voice muffled by his face covering but still carrying that low, raspy timbre that makes your stomach flutter.

“Shut up,” you grumble, and you’re glad he can’t see the smile tugging at your lips.

You take him in—bundled up in his blue snow suit, goggles perched perfectly in place, his broad shoulders and confident stance somehow still exuding that effortless magnetism he carries everywhere.

Even out here, in the freezing cold, with his face obscured, he manages to look unfairly sexy.

Something about him always pulls you in. Maybe it’s the way his energy feels like gravity, anchoring you to every little thing he does. Or maybe it’s how even the simplest acts—like standing on a snowy hillside—become more vivid, more fun, more everything with him.

Your boots crunch through the snow, the skis clumsy but manageable. He’s watching you, his stance casual, hands resting on his poles as if he’s been doing this his whole life.

He had picked up on this activity much quicker than you. The instructor even called him a natural—but you’re certain she was only saying that because she was attracted to him… which, honestly, fair.

“This is your thing,” he says as you approach. “You’re the one who wanted to cross this off your little list. I’m just here for moral support... and to check you out in that suit.”

You burst out laughing, nearly stumbling again as you try to grab the poles you’d dropped when you fell over. “You can barely see anything in this suit,” you shoot back, gesturing to the thick layers of waterproof fabric that make you feel more like a marshmallow than a person.

“Baby,” he drawls, stepping closer, “I could make out those tits and that ass under anything.”

You shake your head, warmth blooming across your cheeks. “You’re such a fucking flirt,” you say, though your voice softens as his gloved hand reaches out to pull you to him.

“And yet, here you are,” he murmurs, leaning just close enough that you catch the mischievous glint in his eyes through the reflective goggles.

“Here I am.”

You’re back at the general area where you’d first gotten your ski gear, adjusting your snow boots while Javier deals with returning your equipment. 

The air is warm inside the lodge, a stark contrast to the crisp chill outside, and the hum of other skiers and snowboarders unwinding after their runs fills the space.

You’re so focused on fastening a particularly stubborn buckle that the sound of your name catches you off guard.

Your head snaps up, brows furrowing, and there he is. Frankie.

He’s making his way toward you, his strides familiar, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, and that lazy, warm smile plastered on his face like it hasn’t been forever since you last saw him.

Your surprise must show because his grin widens slightly as he stops in front of the bench you’re sitting on.

“Frankie, wow, hey.” Your voice is polite, if a little flat.

He wastes no time, dropping down onto the bench beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The sudden weight makes it creak, and though you subtly shift a little away, he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

“Small world.” He’s looking at you with an easy kind of interest, eyes warm and familiar. You have a type. “Didn’t know you were into skiing, hermosa. How have you been?”

Your stomach does a little flip at the damn nickname but you keep your expression neutral, returning your focus to lacing your second boot. “Great, actually. I’m trying it for the first time. Been taking lessons since we got here.”

His brow lifts, amused. “And how’s that going for you?”

You laugh lightly, shaking your head as you tug off your gloves. “I’ve wiped out more times than I’d care to admit.”

He chuckles, stripping off his own gloves, clearly in no rush.

“So what brings you here?” The question feels innocent enough.

“Trip with the guys,” he answers, nodding his head in the direction of a group near a counter. You glance over and sure enough, you see the familiar faces from his circle, all caught up in their own conversation.

“Sounds fun,” you offer, “How’s Elliana? Not too happy her daddy’s missing Christmas, I’m sure.” You smile teasingly, meaning no harm, but the flicker of something on his face makes you pause. His jaw tenses ever so slightly, and the way he drops his gaze feels telling.

“She’s great. Actually, on a trip of her own with her mom and her... uh, new boyfriend.”

You catch the faint cringe he tries to hide as the explanation comes tumbling out. Your chest tightens in an uncomfortable way, not out of sympathy for him, exactly, but more at the reminder of why you two had split up to begin with.

Looks like his effort to “work things out” hadn’t exactly panned out.

“Good for her,” you reply softly, though the exchange feels a little awkward now, like neither of you knows quite where to steer the conversation.

Frankie opens his mouth to say something else, maybe an apology for oversharing or another attempt at small talk, but before he can, you catch a glimpse of Javier weaving through the crowd.

Your heart lifts instantly, as if the room somehow brightens at the sight of him. His tall frame stands out, eyes scanning the lodge, clearly searching for you.

You don’t give Frankie the chance to drag things out any further.

You quickly gather your things, standing as casually as you can. “I have to get going,” you announce, shouldering your bag. “Enjoy the rest of your stay, Frankie.”

He hesitates before he gives you a small nod. “For sure. You too, hermosa. See you around.”

You give him a brief wave before turning and making your way to Javier, your boots thudding lightly against the floor.

His face lights up when he spots you, his gloved hand resting gently on your lower back once he pulls you to him.

“You all set?” he asks, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. The simple affection melts away whatever oddness you felt lingering from your run-in with Frankie.

“Yeah,” you reply, glancing up at him. He looks so effortlessly attractive, his cheeks pink from the cold and brown hair tousled from being under his hat. “I’m ready to get all cozy by the fire.” You purr the words a little, blinking up at him, and it works like a charm.

That sweet smile of his shifts into something sultry, and you don’t miss the way his fingers curl slightly against your back.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” His voice slipping into that seductive, honeyed tone that makes you wish you could fuck a voice. “Lead the way, nena.”

The cocktail table feels like your personal island amidst the ebb and flow of the crowd, the muted hum of holiday music weaving through the air. Warmth blooms across your cheeks from the drinks you’ve nursed through the night, and the haze only amplifies the rich sound of Javier’s laughter.

His hand rests on your lower back, fingertips brushing over the smooth, exposed skin where your dress dips low. The heat of his touch sears into you, enticing enough to have you arching into him.

You giggle as he leans in closer, his breath grazing your ear as he whispers something puckishly suggestive. “You keep lookin’ at me like that and we’re not makin’ it back to the cabin without me pulling this dress off you.”

Your thighs press together instinctively and you bite down on your lip, tilting your head to look up at him, your eyes swimming with the shared heat between you. “Don’t tempt me into letting you do it,” your words are a bit slurred from the alcohol, saturated with desire.

“Oh, I’m not looking to tempt you,” he murmurs, his hand sliding an inch lower. “I’m promising you.”

Your stomach flips, and the idea of staying out any longer feels suddenly impossible, the phantom touch of his hands and lips on you eclipsing all reason.

If there wasn’t an audience, you know you’d already be on your knees with four inches in your mouth, trying to fit the other four like the needy little thing he reduces you to when he gets you all horny.

“Sit tight, nena,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your lips. “Gotta hit the restroom. When I’m back, we’ll settle up and get out of here.”

You nod, though your brain barely processes the words as your eyes follow him weaving through the throng of people, his presence polarizing even in his absence. 

As you sip the last of your drink, your gaze shifts to the large windows lining the restaurant. 

Even at night, the resort resembles something out of a postcard. The twinkling holiday lights outside illuminating the snow in festive tones. You let yourself sink into the magic of it all, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of your glass, a serene moment settling over you—until it’s promptly shattered.

“Look who it is,” a voice cuts through the ambient noise, pulling your attention.

Your head turns, and there’s Frankie, his easy grin and brown eyes locked on you. He’s not alone, three more figures flank him—Santi, Benny, and Will, each wearing varying degrees of amusement on their faces. The sight of them, clearly under the influence and rowdy, throws you a little.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Frankie quips, his voice carrying that raspy drawl you once found charming.

Your eyes narrow, your posture stiffening. “You keep finding me, wouldn’t necessarily call that meeting,” you acknowledge curtly, trying to keep your voice neutral.

“Once he told us you were here, we couldn’t pass up the chance to say hello,” Benny adds, his grin wolfish as he scans you from head to toe, and you can practically feel his gaze lingering on the dip of your dress. “We miss having you around.”

You know these men. You spent enough time with them while dating Frankie to be able to place them all.

Santi, the smooth-talking charmer who always seems a little too pleased with himself. Benny, the loud, lovable wildcard who you’re sure has never taken anything seriously in his life. And Will, the quiet one with a piercing gaze that could unnerve anyone who wasn’t used to it.

They’re a reminder of why you usually avoid military men. Sure, they’re hot as hell, their confidence and strength undeniably attractive. But beneath that lies a mess of issues—trauma, control, and a certain recklessness that always seems to spill over into their romantic lives.

Frankie had been no different, but he’d wormed his way past your better judgment with that soft charm and rough-around-the-edges allure. And it didn’t hurt that he was real fucking good at eating pussy.

Not as good as Javier, though.

You take a step back, your hand reflexively resting on the edge of the table as though to steady yourself. Their presence feels suffocating, a sharp contrast to the cozy, all consuming warmth you’d just shared with Javi.

“That’s nice of you, but my boyfriend should be back any minute now...”

There’s a beat of silence as your words hang in the air, they exchange looks and you watch Frankie’s expression flicker—something almost smug crossing his features before it’s masked by a crooked smile. “Boyfriend, huh?”

Benny lets out a low whistle, leaning his forearms against the table top. “Didn’t think anyone could tame Fish’s girl.”

“Tame?” You shoot him a glare. “I’m not a fucking animal and certainly not his girl. Not for a while now. So you can all fuck off.”

They laugh at you and that only fires you up even more. Frankie slaps his hand on Benny’s shoulder, shaking him slightly. “Ease up man, she doesn’t take any shit.”

Benny cocks his head, his eyes gleaming with drunken amusement. “Which I think is hot. Definitely wouldn’t have fumbled you like this asshole did. And you do porn?” Another low whistle and you swear your eye twitches.

Before you can respond, Santi jumps in, his smirk as infuriating as ever. “No, no,” he says, shaking his head with mock seriousness. “Camera woman. Not actually a pornstar. Though,” he adds, now his turn to fuck you with his eyes, “I think you’d be a lot better in front of the camera, hermosa.”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, your patience wearing thin. You can’t stay in this conversation any longer. 

Santi raises his hands in false defense, his grin never faltering. Meanwhile, Will leans over to whisper something into his brother’s ear, and you catch the shift in Benny’s expression as he gives you a once-over, his gaze laced with something that makes your skin crawl.

You grip the glass in your hand tighter, seriously contemplating how much damage it could do.

“Things serious with your new man?” Frankie replaces Will across from you and you roll your eyes.

The audacity. “Yes,” you say through gritted teeth. “Very.” You lean forward slightly, your voice dropping into a cutting tone. “If I were you, I’d leave before he gets back… or before I shove the stem of this glass down your throat.”

Their laughter rises again, whistling and being overly obnoxious about your reply, but you ignore it, your focus razor-sharp on your ex.

“We had our time together, Frankie, and you decided to cut it short by going back to the mother of your child. Whatever, fine, shit happens, but now you’re acting like a real jerk. All of you are and I have no interest in continuing whatever the fuck this is, so, leave.”

You can tell your words hit their mark. Frankie has always respected your no-nonsense attitude, but being on the receiving end clearly doesn’t sit well with him. 

Just as you turn to remove yourself from this stifling mess altogether, Javier reappears.

Javier doesn’t expect to come back and find four men crowding you, their broad shoulders and cocky stances cutting into your space like they own it. The sight stops him cold, but only for a second. Then his back straightens, his jaw locking tight as something territorial flares in his chest.

One of them catches his eye immediately—the scruffy, stray-dog-looking motherfucker he’d recognize anywhere.

That damn Malibu shoot, the tipping point for all the change that came after. The memory of Frankie all over you, the obnoxious flirting, how you had played into it.

Then you left Robbie’s crew and he made his move, securing you as his girlfriend, getting exactly what he wanted.

Javier had no right to feel possessive when it happened, even though every fiber of his being had screamed at him to do something about it. Sure, you shared moments that left him restless and aching for more, but it wasn’t enough to stake a claim, no matter how badly he wanted to, and you were so adamant about not wanting anything to do with him.

So, he’d done the only thing he could—told himself to get over it and buried the jealousy under layers of maintained indifference.

But now? Now you’re his girl. The first real, healthy relationship he’s had since Lorraine, and there’s no way in hell he’s holding back about anything when it comes to you. Especially not when Frankie and his action-movie crew are standing there, eyeing you like you’re some trophy to win.

“What’s goin’ on?” His voice cuts through the noise of their conversation, sharp and unyielding as he closes the distance.

He’s met with four pairs of eyes—two amused, one indifferent, and Frankie’s, which narrow slightly in recognition. Javier keeps his focus steady, his gaze hard as he takes them in.

His confidence has grown over the years, forged by his experiences and the praise from the industry. Yet, there’s still that lingering thread of insecurity that twists in his gut as he watches Frankie make his indifference clear.

“We were just catching up. Saying hello,” Frankie answers almost too casually, but his eyes gleam with something else—a challenge.

Javier doesn’t flinch. Instead, he steps closer to you, his hand finding your waist. “Looks like you’ve said it. Time to move on.”

Beside Frankie, one of the men grins as if he’s enjoying the show. “Easy, man,” he says, his tone teasing. “We’re just being friendly.”

Javier’s jaw ticks, a muscle in his cheek jumping as his grip on you tightens slightly. “Friendly looks more like crowding someone who doesn’t want to talk to you.”

While you’ve never gone into detail about what you had with Frankie, the updates Javier had gotten from Steve are enough to stir doubts. Words like satisfied are currently resurfacing to make him question things he knows aren’t true.

These men are something he isn’t. And even though you’re together now, there’s a small, irrational part of him that wonders if one day you’ll realize he isn’t what you want.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you—he does, with everything he’s got. But being cheated on leaves wounds that never fully close, scars that ache at the worst times. And seeing Frankie standing there, beaming like he still has a chance, stirs something primal in Javier.

“No need to get territorial, Peña. We were just having a little fun. Besides…” He trails off, his gaze flicking briefly to you before returning to Javier. “She can handle herself.”

Javier’s blood boils, his free hand twitching at his side. It would take so little—a single punch to wipe that smug look off his face. But then your hand is on his chest, soft and grounding.

“It’s fine. I was just telling them to leave.” 

Frankie’s gaze lingers on you in a look he recognizes all too well because he looks at you in the same goddamn way, and that has his vision tunneling.

“No harm done,” He steps back with exaggerated nonchalance. But then he throws one last barb over at you. “We’ll catch up some other time, hermosa.”

Javier doesn’t think, words slipping out before he can stop them. “No, the fuck you won’t. In fact, if I see any of you bother her again, I won’t hesitate to kick your ass.”

“Yeah? I’d like to see you try.”

For a moment it looks like things might escalate. But one of the other men—blonde, with a calmer air about him—steps in.

“Alright, boys,” he says, reaching out to pull his friend back. “Let’s not make a scene.”

Frankie hesitates, his jaw tightening, but he relents with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever.”

Javier watches them retreat, his heart still pounding, until they’re out of sight. Only then does he let his shoulders drop slightly.

“Hey,” you say gently, tilting your head to catch his gaze. “You okay?”

“I didn’t like that one fucking bit,” he mutters, his voice rough.

Your smile is gentle, reassuring, and you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek which melts him immediately. “They don’t matter,” you whisper, your lips brushing his skin. “You’re the only one I care about.”

The words ease the last of the tension, and Javier lets out a breath, pulling you close. “Damn right,” his tone softens as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Let’s get out of here,” you suggest, a small mischievous smile on your face, “Your gift is waiting for you back at the cabin.”

It’s as if the entire confrontation is forgotten at your words and he becomes intrigued immediately. “Oh yeah? Then what the fuck are we doin’ still standing here. Let’s go.”

“Are your eyes closed?”

Javier leans against the armrest of the couch, his lips curving into a small smile as your voice carries from the bedroom.

“Yeah,” he replies, shifting slightly, his eyes obediently shut.

“You’re not lying to me?”

“No.” He chuckles, the deep, easy sound rumbling from his chest.

There’s the faint shuffle of movement, and then he feels you—the subtle electricity that always seems to spark when you’re near.

His hands are cupped in front of him as instructed, his curiosity piqued. He has no idea what you’ve planned, no inkling of what’s coming.

Honestly, he can’t believe you actually got him anything. The trip itself has been more than enough—a week of unfiltered joy, amazing sex, and waking up to you in his arms. If that isn’t a gift in itself, then what is?

Then you’re standing in front of him, placing something in his hands. He feels the cool weight of it, the texture of smooth plastic beneath his fingertips.

“Okay, you can open them now.”

Javier’s eyes flutter open, immediately drawn to the object cradled in his palms. It’s a handheld camcorder, a glossy red ribbon tied around it like the finishing touch on a present. His brows knit together in brief confusion, but before he can ask, you fill in the blanks.

“I want us to make a tape together, Javi.”

Your words hit him like a freight train. No, they hit his cock like a freight train, and the damn thing stirs to life before his brain even fully registers the meaning.

“You naughty little thing,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into that gravelly tone that always gets a rise out of you.

You bite your lip, a playful giggle escaping. “I figured it’d be something fun for us,” you say, stepping closer until he can smell the faint traces of your perfume. “Plus… I really like how you fuck on camera. Not that it’s any different from what we do, but…”

You trail off with a small, breathy moan that makes Javier’s restraint snap. He sets the camera carefully on the couch before pulling you closer, his hands gripping the hem of your dress and bunching the fabric in his fists as he pulls you between his knees.

“But…?” he prompts, his lips finding the curve of your neck. He kisses, nips, and licks, each touch of his mouth drawing little gasps from you. You taste divine, every inch of you always does.

“But it’s different,” you breathe, your fingers digging into his biceps as his teeth graze your skin. “I want to experience what all those other stars do when shooting a scene with you.”

His lips crash against yours, the kiss heated and possessive. He can taste the remnants of the cocktails you had at dinner, but more than that, he tastes you.

The memory of those old sets pales in comparison to the thought of filming with you.

“I’m all yours, nena,” he growls against your lips, his hands slipping lower to slap your ass then gripping onto the flesh. “This is a brilliant fucking idea. I’ve been telling you how hot you’d look on camera. How do you want to do this?”

Your smile is roguish, your confidence intoxicating. “I want us to take turns filming... directing… Wanna get some good shots of me sucking your cock.”

Your hand trails down his arm, skimming over the muscles there, then lower to pinch his hip before you palm his erection through his pants, his hips jerking involuntarily as he grunts.

“And I definitely need footage of that tongue of yours working my pussy,” you add, your tone sultry. “We’ll figure the rest out as we go. I want to start in the hot tub.”

Javier swears under his breath, his head tilting back slightly as your touch sends a fresh wave of desire through him. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters, voice thick with need.

You smile, giving him one last squeeze before pulling away, leaving him half-dazed and completely aroused. “Get changed and take the camera outside. I’ll join you once I put on my costume.”

“Costume?” His brows arch in curiosity as his eyes track your retreating form.

“Costume might be pushing it. It’s something to set the tone for the amateur vibe I want this to have. Even if we know what we’re doing.”

“Whatever you want,” he’s so desperate to take you, “I’m going to tear you the fuck up.”

You blow him a kiss, your giddiness as palpable as his. 

Javier watches you disappear into the bedroom, letting out a long breath as he stands and moves to his bag which you had purposefully, he realizes, brought out before leaving for dinner.

He pulls out his swim trunks, quickly changing and grabbing the camera again. He can’t help the simper pulling at his lips as he removes the ribbon and flits through the settings, familiarizing himself with it.

Javier slides open the patio door, the soft scrape of the glass breaking the stillness of the night. A cool breeze rushes in, sharp against his skin, but it’s a refreshing contrast to the heat coursing through his veins.

The glow of the string lights overhead reflects off the rippling water of the hot tub. They frame the scene perfectly, tiny stars encircling what already feels like a secluded slice of paradise.

He steps out onto the wooden deck, the chill biting at his bare chest and legs. A small shiver runs through him, but it’s chased away the moment he dips into the steaming water. The heat rises to meet him, coiling around him like an inviting embrace.

Javier lowers himself deeper into the tub, the warmth spreading instantly, soothing muscles. The jets hum to life with the press of a button, sending gentle ripples across the surface. Another tap, and the colorful lights beneath the water bloom, shifting from deep blue to vivid green, then a lurid red.

He leans back against the edge, one arm stretched casually along the rim, the other cradling the camcorder.

The setting is perfect—intimate, cozy, and alive with the kind of cinematic allure that’s been a part of his life for so long. Only this time, it’s personal. This time, it’s with you.

“Alright, I’m coming out,” your voice calls from inside, and Javier’s pulse spikes as if his body already knows it’s about to be wrecked. 

He shifts in the water, the tent in his briefs straining beneath the surface. His fingers move automatically, adjusting his grip on the camcorder, raising it to eye level, his thumb brushing over the small record button.

“Ready whenever you are,” he says, his voice a little lower, raspier.  

Through the steamy glass, he tracks your shadowy movements, catching fleeting glimpses of red that tease him to the point of madness.

The condensation and reflections blur the details, but it only adds to the attraction. He can feel his heart thudding against his ribs, a primal drumbeat that matches the ache in his cock.  

And then you step out, framed by the sliding door like a vision he couldn’t conjure even in his wildest fantasies.  

“Fuck me.”

The red bikini bottoms sit high on your hips, the delicate ties framing your curves like artwork. That vivid, sinful shade of red makes your skin seem to glow, the contrast leaving him weak.

In one hand is a bottle of champagne, the other holding two flutes, and his tongue pokes against his cheek at how festive you’re being.

He zooms in with the camera, starting at your legs then capturing every dip and swell of your thighs, the plushness he knows so well.

The lens follows up, slowly drinking in the soft curve of your stomach, lingering over the way your tits press against the satin ribbon wrapped around them like a present he’s dying to open. The bow tied between your cleavage looks precarious, like it might unravel at the slightest tug.

The silky fabric is no match for the chill in the air, your hardened nipples poking through in a way that makes his tongue twitch in his mouth at the thought of flitting it over the stiffened peaks. 

But then his gaze—and the lens—finds your face, and it’s game over. Your lips are parted, plump and glistening as you lick them, the slight haze in your eyes a telltale sign of the alcohol still swimming in your veins. Your lashes frame your eyes perfectly, their sparkle teasing him as if daring him to lose control.  

His mind is already racing ahead, imagining the way those lips will part as you take his cock into his mouth, the way your head will tilt back when he suckles at your clit, or how your eyes will roll into your skull when he’s buried deep inside your tight cunt.

“You look so fucking good. Shit,” he breathes, his voice shaky. The camcorder threatens to tremble in his hand as he refocuses on you, watching you strike playful poses against the doorframe, snowflakes getting caught in your hair.

Each one is more tantalizing than the last, and when you bend over to show him your sweet ass, he zooms in on how the red fabric outlines your pussy.

“Thank you,” you purr, your voice smooth and syrupy as you turn and saunter toward the tub, setting the drink and glasses aside. You exaggerate the sway of your hips, fully aware of the effect you have on him, and it’s almost too much.

He’s never had a woman make him feel this way.

Javier keeps the camera trained on you, his years of expertise blending seamlessly with his overwhelming desire to immortalize this moment.

The way the light dances off your skin, the ripple against your flesh as you move sensually, your smile—it’s all so perfectly you.

For a moment, he forgets the camera is even there. Every inch of you seems made for him, like a custom design he never dreamed he’d be lucky enough to have.

When you finally join him, stepping into the steaming water, his restraint frays to a thread. He’s gripping the camcorder like it’s the only thing keeping him from lunging at you.

“You’re teasing me, baby,” he rasps as he films you lowering yourself into the tub.  

“I know,” you reply with a flirty smile. “But don’t you love it?”  

“Too much,” he shifts his legs to relieve some of the pressure at his crotch, though it’s futile. He’s already undone, and the night’s only just begun. 

“Keep posing, like you did by the door,” Javier instructs while his dark eyes remain fixed on you, not the viewfinder. Capturing this for later is one thing, but experiencing it now is something he wants seared into his memory for the rest of his life.

“Flirt with the camera using those beautiful eyes, nena.”

You bite your lip, your lashes lowering as you tilt your head, blinking slowly at the lens. You know exactly what to do, and he guesses this comes from watching the other stars do it on set.

The result is undeniably erotic. Knowing that you’ve never done it before like this, yet exude such natural talent, makes the moment infinitely hotter.

The water kisses your skin, glistening under the string lights and making every curve gleam like a jewel. You shift your weight, cocking your hip, arching your back—it’s fluid, seductive. Droplets of water run over your tits and how badly does he want to reach out and lick at them.

He will, he just wants to get enough footage of just you being so damn sexy.

You move with languid grace, tilting your head just so, and then giggling as you reach for the champagne. The sound is rousing, making his cock twitch.

You curl your finger, beckoning him closer, and he obeys without hesitation, the camera steady in his hands as he floats toward you. 

You pour the golden liquid into your glass, bringing it to your lips with a playful flick of your tongue along the rim, a teasing preview of what’s to come.

When you tilt your head back, letting the bubbly glide past your lips, your throat moves with every swallow and he makes sure to let the shot linger there, fixated.

“Mmm,” the sound is a decadent hum that has his teeth sinking into his lower lip. “Tastes so good.”

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he growls, his large hand reaching up to cradle your jaw. His thumb brushes over your cheek, warm and damp under his touch, before sinking his fingers into the soft skin. “Look at how gorgeous my girl is.”

He angles your face toward the camera, showing you off like a precious work of art. You go pliant under his touch, your eyes locking on the lens as you bring the glass to your lips again, deliberately spilling the champagne, letting it cascade over your jaw and his waiting fingers, trickling down his wrist in a sticky, sparkling trail.

“Oops,” you say, your tone dripping with false innocence. Lowering your head, your tongue darts out, tracing the line of champagne from his pulse point up to his fingers.

You take the tip of his finger into your mouth, sucking lightly, swirling your tongue around the pad before releasing it with a wet, lingering kiss.

“Dios mío,” Javier groans, his hips shifting as his swollen cock brushes against your thigh. The soft gasp that escapes you only feeds his need. “Pretty and dirty. A real fuckin’ star.”

His hand trails lower, abandoning your face to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over the damp fabric before tugging at it, unraveling it completely. 

The cool air kisses your skin just before his touch follows, warm and possessive. He doesn’t ask—Javier never does when it comes to adoring you; he just takes, knowing how much you love it.

Especially when he plays with your tits.

You shake them playfully, the soft, bouncing motion making him snarl, the sound rumbling low in his chest.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his hand kneading your flesh, his thumb brushing over your nipple before he pinches it just hard enough to draw a sharp gasp from your lips.

His eyes flicker to the viewfinder, ensuring the camera catches every detail as he lavishes attention on you, pinching and rolling your puckered tips between his fingers until you’re squirming against him.

“Give me the camera,” you breathe through soft whimpers, reaching for it. He hands it over without a second thought, his hands lingering on yours as he relinquishes the device. 

The power shifts, and you waste no time, pointing the lens at him. “Suck on my tits, Javi,” you coo, each word laced with seduction, and his reaction is immediate.

He pulls you against him, your bodies slick with the heat and bubbles of the water, his hard cock pressing insistently between your thighs. His mouth finds your nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before he sucks it into his mouth, his teeth grazing it just enough to make you whine.

Your free hand tangles in his damp hair, guiding his head and angling his face for the camera as he lavishes attention on you. The viewfinder captures everything: the way his lips move, how his tongue circles your areola, the glistening trail of water droplets and his spit on your skin.

His mouth moves to your other breast to do the same, sucking harder this time.

“So good, baby,” your voice trembles with pleasure. “You’re so good to me.”

He chuckles low against your chest, relishing in your praise and how he’s able to make you react.

His large hands slide up, cupping your breasts as he pushes them together, burying his face between them and motorboating you. The deep, playful groan he lets out makes you laugh breathlessly behind the camera.

“Pass me the champagne,” Javi murmurs, his lips brushing your collarbone.

You loosen your hold on his hair, reaching for the bottle. The moment it’s in his hands, he tilts it back for a quick swig, the liquid catching the light as it drips from the corner of his mouth.

He pours a generous stream over your chest, the cool champagne trickling down the valley of your breasts. His tongue is quick to chase it, licking and sucking every drop, his movements rougher now, hungrier.

You adjust the camera, your arm stretched out to capture the way his mouth trails up to your neck, nipping and kissing as if he can’t get enough.

The wet, desperate sounds of your kisses fill the air, drowning out the gentle hum of the hot tub jets.

It’s messy, all tongue and teeth, as if he’s trying to consume you entirely.

Javier takes the camera back without breaking the kiss, adjusting the angle to film the way your lips move against his. His free hand grips your waist, guiding the both of you backward until his body presses against the tub’s edge. 

Snowflakes drift in on the breeze, clinging to your hair and his, melting instantly against your heated skin.

“You gonna be a good girl and show the camera how much you love my cock? How good you are at taking him down your throat?” he asks, his voice thick with lust, his lips brushing against your ear.

He zooms in on how your mouth parts in an eager smile.

“Yes,” you breathe, nodding with unrestrained excitement.

Javier lifts himself onto the tub’s edge, the chill in the air biting at his skin, but he doesn't care, not with the way his excitement overrides any of his discomfort. His legs remain submerged, spreading wide to give you space.

You move between them, the warm water lapping at your waist as your hands trail up his legs, your fingers kneading the firm muscle.

“I’ll make it extra good for you today, baby,” you promise, and he knows you mean every word.

He lifts his hips up to help you pull down his trunks, his erection bobbing free from its constraints. Javier hisses as the cool air hits him, but it’s quickly soothed when you wrap your fingers around his shaft and he groans, your softer touch feeling like fucking heaven.

You stroke him a few times, and the visual of you jerking his cock while the bubbles from the jets flutter around your bod has him tightening his grip on the camera.

As he watches you, he knows—he wouldn’t change a single thing about what got you here.

Not the fights, not the doubts, not the messy way you two stumbled into this, because every moment led to this one.

You hum, looking up at him through your lashes, giving the camera a flirty wink before your tongue darts out to kitten lick at his weeping tip, his skin flushed a devious red.

You start slowly, teasing the sensitive skin of his spongy head, swirling around it and tasting the saltiness of the precum that beads at the slit. He sucks in a sharp breath, his free hand tangling in your hair to guide you closer.

“So fucking perfect.”

Your eyes twinkle at the praise, taking him deeper, your lips stretching around his girth. The camera captures every second—his cock disappearing into your mouth, the way your cheeks hollow as you suck, the slick sounds of your efforts filling the air.

Javier’s hips jerk, unable to hold still as you bob your head, your tongue working him over. Drool slips from the corners of your lips, mixing with the water from the tub as you take him as deep as you can, gagging, the messy display making him curse under his breath.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, his voice breaking. “You’re so goddamn good at this.”

You moan around him, the vibration making his grip in your hair tighten. You pull back to catch your breath, your hand stroking him while your tongue laves attention along the underside of his shaft, tracing every pulsating vein.

“Messy little thing,” he murmurs, the camera focusing on the spit shining his cock, dripping from your chin as you smile wickedly up at him.

“I like it messy,” you reply, your voice a foxy, hoarse purr before you take him back into your mouth, sucking harder, faster, the wet, obscene sounds driving him closer to finishing.

The camera feels heavier in his hand as he adjusts the focus, trying to capture every detail of this moment, but his heart beats faster when he realizes the truth: no recording, no photo, nothing tangible could ever truly do justice to what he feels right now. It’s more than physical. It’s more than lust.

It’s her. She’s it. She’s everything.

As if reading his mind, your gaze flicks up to meet his, and you fucking smile with his cock in your mouth.

He exhales a shaky breath, barely holding on to his composure when you release him with an audible pop and trail your tongue down his length. The hand pumping him doesn’t slow, but your mouth finds his inner thigh then his balls, licking and biting just enough to make his leg tense under you.

“Where do you want to come, Javi?” Your voice is a soft, breathy rasp, and his whole body reacts to the sound of it. Your hand moves faster, and he’s unable to form an answer before you stop abruptly, making him curse under his breath.

“In my hand?” Your grip tightens around his cock.

“Goddammit,” his frustration turns to a low, guttural noise when you lower your mouth and tap the tip of his cock against your tongue.

“Or on my tongue?” The slick glide of your lips as you tease him is pure torture, but you’re not done. You push your chest forward, letting his dick slap against the humps of your tits.

“Maybe all over these?” Your voice is sweet, almost playful, but your intentions are anything but. The sight of his cock glistening against your skin, the jiggle of your flesh under his weight, makes his vision blur for a second.

“Or are you going to hold it in and fill my pussy?”

The way you say it, so casually filthy, sends a jolt of arousal through him. He bites down hard on his lip, every muscle in his body tightening. You’ve always had a mouth on you, but this—this is something else entirely.

Your confidence, the way you’ve grown into yourself since being with him, sends a surge of pride through his chest. 

“Baby, I’m going to fuck you so full of my cum you’ll be tasting it for fucking weeks.”

Your breathless giggle is music to his ears, and when you lean in to kiss his cock, licking over the tip, his control shatters.

“C’mere,” he sneers, pulling you up into a heated kiss. His mouth is desperate, his teeth scraping against your lips. He adjusts, submerging himself back into the water, being mindful of the device, and pulling your back flush against his chest.

He angles the lens to capture the way your bodies press together, the steam from the water curling around you both. The viewfinder is flipped and shows your damp hair sticking to your face, his lips dragging over the curve of your neck.

“Look at how good we look,” he murmurs, his voice a low rasp against your ear as his hand palms your breast, squeezing roughly.

A smile splits your face, drunk on the taste of his cock and the alcohol. Slowly, you shift on your toes, bending forward just enough to tease him with the curve of your ass, playfully wiggling it as you rub his cock between your cheeks.

“Come fuck me, Javi.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathes, bringing the camera lower to capture the way the bubbles skim over the curve of your body. He smacks each cheek, the sound sharp against the steady hum of the jets, and you huff, arching even more.

When he pulls at the strings of your bikini bottoms, letting the fabric fall away, he curses under his breath. “Mierda,” he hisses, his hand kneading your supple flesh before gripping the base of his cock and slapping it against your skin. 

He can’t help but grin as he shows off for the camera.

When he slides himself along your slick folds, he groans, feeling how wet you are for him. “Damn, suckin’ me off gets you this turned on, nena?” he asks, breathless.

You let out a needy whimper, nodding as your hips push back against him.

He doesn’t make you wait, sinking into you with a grunt that’s half your name and half prayer. The way your walls clench around him, pulling him deeper, makes him swear under his breath as he sets a rhythm that sends water spilling over the edge of the tub.

“Oh, Javi, oh fuck!” Your voice is loud, shameless, and he loves every filthy syllable of it.

“You like that, huh?” he growls, slowing his thrusts to drag his cock out of you torturously slow, the tight suction of your pussy making him grit his teeth.

“Gorgeous fucking pussy doesn’t want to let me go,” he mutters, angling the camera to capture the way your body takes him so perfectly, the wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you echoing around you.

He licks his lips, the phantom taste of your tangy sweetness haunting them, and the thought of you spread out while he loses himself in eating you out burns through him like fire.

The way you whimper in protest when he pulls out is enough to make him consider sinking back into your tight, sopping heat, but he reins himself in. Instead, his hand comes down on your ass, the sharp crack echoing in the chilled night air.

“None of that. Let’s move this party inside. I need to taste you.”

You bite your lip, shivering from the combination of his words and the cold air biting at your damp skin. 

Both of you are dripping water as you climb out of the hot tub, the biting chill of the night air wraps around you, sending goosebumps racing across your skin.

Javier notices, of course he does, and he drags his hands over your arms, a fleeting attempt at warming you before snagging the nearest towel.

“C’mere, nena,” he mutters, pulling you close. The towel is large, but his hands are clumsy as he rubs it over your body. The motion is both tender and hurried, his fingers lingering on the curves of your hips, your nice tits, and the slick heat between your thighs. “Can’t have you catching a cold now, can we?”

You giggle, your teeth chattering as you take the camera from him as he brings you inside. You stumble over the threshold, recording every imperfect second.

The contrast between the icy air outside and the inviting heat of the cabin is immediate, the crackling fireplace casting a golden glow across the room.

Javier wastes no time, pulling you toward the plush rug in front of the flames. You lay on your back, taking a moment to admire your boyfriend.

He’s a masterpiece carved by desire, every part of him sculpted to make you ache.

You handle the camera in your hands, the viewfinder framing Javier like the sex god that he is. You’re practically purring as the lens lingers on his thighs and how they flex subtly when he shifts his weight.

The camera pans higher and you feel that insistent heartbeat at your pussy.

His cock stands heavy and proud, the firelight casting shadows along his delicious length and girth. He’s gorgeous—thick veins trailing up velvety skin, the head angry and eager to punch into your cunt, his balls heavy with the load he’s already promised to fill you full of.

Continuing your digital ascent, you capture the sharp planes of his torso, his golden-brown skin glowing in the warmth of the flames. His chest rises and falls with slow, steady breaths.

Finally, you settle the shot on his lips, looking plush under that sexy ass mustache. They have ruined you time and time again with words, kisses, and the way they dote on every part of you.

“He’s so fucking good at using those.” You whisper to the camera.

“You done admiring?” He asks with playful arrogance, as if he hadn’t been absolutely eating up every reaction you had given to the body he’s sculpted into a living, breathing fantasy

“Never.”

He leans down to kiss you, sticky precum brushing against your lower stomach. Slyly, he takes the device from your hands, now his turn to marvel at you.

His lips part slightly as he looks at you, the flames illuminating every curve and dip of your body, painting you in shades of gold and amber.

“Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You bite your lip, your cheeks heated under his gaze. Javier adjusts the angle, zooming in on the way your thighs press together, craving him again.

“Spread your legs for me, nena.”

You hesitate, suddenly shy under the intensity of his gaze, but he makes it impossible to deny him when he looks at you like this.

Slowly, you part your legs, exposing yourself to him fully.

“Goddamn,” Javier growls, his free hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, his calloused fingers trailing to where you’re still sticky with arousal from how he’d taken you outside. He uses his thumb to spread open one of your pussy lips, revealing your pretty cunt to the camera, his thumb pressing down on your clit, smearing your juices around.

“You know how perfect you are?” he asks, his voice low as he sets the camera down at the perfect angle to capture what he’s about to do next. “Every fucking inch of you drives me crazy.”

Javier leans over you, his lips trailing down your neck to the hollow between your breasts. His hands spread you open further, his breath hot against your skin as he settles himself between your thighs.

You shudder as his lips press against your inner thigh, sinewy fingers keeping you spread open so the camera gets a good view of his tongue doing what it does best between your legs.

The fire crackles beside you, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his mouth as he begins to devour you, his tongue and lips coaxing soft moans and gasps from your lips.

He doesn’t rush. He takes his time, savoring every sound you make, every tremble of your body. He pulls back briefly, some of your slick clinging to his lips, just long enough to grab the camera again, angling it to capture your flushed face and the way your body arches toward him before handing it over to you.

You almost drop it from how fucking lightheaded he’s left you, but manage to hold onto it, doing your best to record this handsome man going down on you.

“No one else gets to see you like this. Just me.”

The possessiveness in Javier’s voice is laced with an edge of jealousy, a dark fire stoked by earlier moments that now claw their way back into his mind. Flashes of other men crowding you, eyeing what’s his, swirl in his thoughts, blending with images of you and Frankie tangled in your sheets. 

The thought ignites a growl deep in his chest. His fingers grip your thigh harder, nails biting into your skin as he buries his face between your legs with renewed intensity. 

His tongue swirls and flicks over your clit, his lips sealing around the swollen nub with a pressure that makes your toes curl.

He’s punishing those images, driving them out by proving how thoroughly you belong to him.

“Just you, Javi, no one else,” you gasp, your back arching off the plush rug. With one hand on the device, your other lets its fingers twist into his thick brown hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt against your slick heat.

The vibrations ripple through you, sending you closer to the edge, your walls fluttering with anticipation.

You’re close—he feels it in the way your thighs shake, the way your breath stutters. Determined to pull you over the edge, he buries his face deeper, his nose nudging your clit as he shakes his head back and forth.

The scratch of his mustache against your tender flesh only intensifies your pleasure, and when his lips seal around your swollen clit and he sucks harshly, it shatters you.

“Oh my God, Javier!” you scream, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash through you, the camera shaking violently in your hand. The heat of the nearby flames amplifies your euphoria, sweat beading on your skin.

“Pussy tastes so fuckin’ delicious,” his voice is muffled but heavy with want. Javier has always loved going down on women, but there’s something about you—your taste, your scent, the way your body responds to him—that drives him wild. 

His cock thrums painfully, desperate for relief. He’s grinding against the rug without even realizing it, his need to claim you consuming every thought.

Even as your thighs twitch in the aftermath of your orgasm, he laps up every drop, greedy for more, his tongue sweeping over your oversensitive flesh until you’re gasping and squirming beneath him. Only then does he pull away, his lips and chin glistening with your essence.

Taking the camera again, he points it at you, capturing the sight of you sprawled across the rug, utterly spent. Your chest rises and falls, your eyes half-lidded with bliss.

“¿Todo bien, nena?” he asks, gingerly yet smugly satisfied.

“Mhm,” you hum, stretching languidly under his touch. “Just need a minute.”

He strokes your face, his thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips and you kiss the rough pad softly. 

Wordlessly, he adjusts the lens, zooming in on your face, capturing the blissed-out expression that is all his doing. It makes him want to kiss you, so he does, bending down, his lips brushing yours in a smoldering liplock.

“Such a good kisser, Javi.” You chase after his mouth when he pulls away, bringing your hands up to cradle his face to keep your lips on his. He lets you, lost in the feeling in the same way you are, that poor camera idly recording the blur of your moving heads.

When he does finally pull back, he moves with purpose, setting up the camera on the coffee table, his fingers steady despite the heat thrumming through his veins.

He flips the viewfinder to showcase the two of you, positioning it to capture the perfect scene: the crackling fireplace, the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree, the snow-kissed mountains visible through the frosted window, bathed in the silver moonlight.

The setup is a masterpiece, the kind of shot you’d call pure art. You’ve teased him about this before—how his talent for making things look so effortlessly beautiful extends even to his most smutty creations.

When Javier returns to you, his breath hitches. You’re stretched out on the rug, naked as the day you were born, your skin kissed by the soft illumination of the Christmas lights. You look up at him with a cheeky grin that makes his chest tighten and his cock throb.

“Hey, baby,” you say, your voice teasing yet soft, inviting him closer.

“Hi,” he murmurs back, his own lips shifting into a smile that mirrors yours.

He lowers himself to you again, cradling your jaw as if you’re the most delicate, precious thing he’s ever touched. “You havin’ fun?”

“So much,” you reply with a laugh that’s pure music to his ears. Your teeth catch his lower lip playfully, and your hand sneaks down between you, wrapping around his pulsating cock. The sound he lets out vibrates against your lips, and the look in his eyes is molten.

“Now fuck me full, Javi,” you whisper, your words bold and needy, a demand he’s more than eager to fulfill.

His hands are on you in an instant, pulling you up and shifting your body until you’re perfectly centered in the shot.

You look like a vision, his personal angel.

Javier kneels behind you, his strong hands gripping your hips, the pads of his fingers pressing into your skin just hard enough to leave marks he’ll admire later.

His cock teases your entrance, the slick head gliding over your swollen clit, and you mewl, your body quivering with anticipation. He watches, mesmerized, as you arch your back for him, offering yourself up completely.

Slowly, he sinks into you, savoring the way your walls envelop him, the tightness making him hiss through his teeth.

His grip tightens as he thrusts deeper, the stretch and fullness making you sob. The sound shoots straight to his cock, and he growls low in his throat, his hips snapping forward, burying himself to the hilt.

Your cries rise in pitch as he sets a brutal rhythm, each powerful thrust sending your tits bouncing uncontrollably. 

Javier leans back slightly, angling his body just so, ensuring the camera captures every detail—the way your pussy clenches and drips around his cock and how obscene the sounds of your bodies joining echo in the cabin.

His nose skims the side of your neck, his breath hot against your damp skin. He bites down gently, soothing the sting with his tongue, before whispering filthy promises into your ear, each word making you tighten around him.

“You were made for me,” he declares, “This tight pussy, fuck, no one else gets to feel how perfect she is. Just me. All mine.”

Something about being inside you triggers this untamed passion in him, an insatiable desire that no amount of good fucking can quench.

He’s relentless, taking and taking, chasing the pleasure that only you can give him. The thought of you creaming all over his cock, screaming his name, and begging for more while teetering on the edge of oblivion has him thrusting harder, deeper.

No one else has ever felt like this—like home and sin wrapped into one. Fucking you is better than anything he’s ever known.

It doesn’t even have to be elaborate or kinky—though he certainly doesn’t mind. He loves it all, from nights like this to the slow, sleepy mornings when he wakes you by sliding his cock into your warm, welcoming body, loving the way you melt against him with soft sighs.

Now, though, it’s anything but slow. His hips piston up into you, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust, and you’re crying out his name like a prayer.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, his voice rough in your ear as his pace falters momentarily.

You’re too lost in the haze of bliss to respond right away, your whimpers spilling from your lips in broken waves. Javier slows, grinding into you, letting the friction bring you back to him.

“I said, do you trust me?” he repeats, his tone firmer.

“Y-Yes,” you stammer, your voice a breathy plea as your pussy clenches around him.

A dark, satisfied smirk spreads across his face. “I’m gonna put you in a headlock, baby. Keep you right where I want you while I tear this pretty pussy up like I promised.”

You mewl, the sound making his cock twitch inside you. He nips at your ear, his breath fanning against your skin. 

“If it’s too much, tap me three times, okay?” His voice softens slightly, a thread of tenderness weaving through the raw desire.

You nod eagerly, your voice trembling as you beg, “Please, Javi.”

When you turn your head to look at him, the vulnerability and trust in your eyes make his heart clench. Fuck, I love her.

Without another word, he surges forward to kiss you messily, his lips claiming yours as he loops a strong arm around your neck. The position pulls you flush against his chest, your back arching as he adjusts his knees, locking you into place.

“I’ll start slow, get that pussy purring,” he teases, his breath hot against your ear.

His cock drags against your walls, unhurried, and you shiver as he finds that spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

“Right there,” you gasp, your voice hitching as your body tightens around him.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he groans, his arm tightening just enough to make your head swim in the most delicious way.

With a growl, he picks up his pace, pounding into you with enough force to get your body jolting against his. The rug beneath you rubs raw at your knees, each wet slap of his cock driving into your soaked pussy sending ripples of heat through your core.

Javier watches the way your body reacts to him from the viewfinder across the way. “That’s it, nena,” he clenches his teeth, his own release building as he claims you over and over again. His large fingers move from your hips down to toy with your clit. “Take it all. Take every. Fucking. Inch.”

Your hands shoot up to grip Javier’s arm, manicured nails biting into his flesh and leaving streaks of angry red lines down the muscled curve. The sting only fuels him, a feral satisfaction curling in his chest as you claw desperately for purchase.

Drool slips from the corner of your lips, pooling in the crease of his elbow, and he can’t help but smile smugly at the camera, his ego swelling alongside his cock. He’s unraveling you, making you fall apart so completely that you’re losing control—going stupid for his cock.

The slick sound of your bodies meeting fills the room, drowning out the crackling fire. You’re soaking him, your pussy so wet that the coarse hairs at the base of his cock are drenched, shining with your mixed juices.

He tightens his grip around your throat, your voice reduced to breathy, incoherent gasps. The pressure is perfect, the lack of air sending your senses spiraling as he pounds into you with reckless abandon, fingers relentless against your puffy clit.

It’s enough to coax your submission further, and he feels your slick walls start to quake around him. Your pussy flutters, gripping him so tightly it takes everything in him not to lose control right then.

“I—” You try to speak, but your words dissolve into an unintelligible cry as your orgasm slaps you right in the face.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Javier growls, his voice low and rough. He drives into you harder, faster, the head of his cock hitting that devastatingly deep spot that only he has been able to touch. Your eyes roll back, your cunt clenching him like a vice.

Your body trembles on the edge of euphoria and exhaustion. You lift your hand to tap out, but before you can, his own climax barrels through him like an angry bull.

His hips snap wildly as he spills into you. Hot spurts of cum fill you, thick and endless, his curses mixing with your cries as your body trembles uncontrollably.

The second he loosens his hold on your throat, air rushes back into your lungs, and with it comes a blinding, second wave of pleasure.

“Ah—fuck me!” you yelp, your body spasming as an intense pressure bursts inside you. Liquid heat sprays out of your pussy, soaking his lap and the carpet beneath you.

You fall forward, about to collapse, but Javier catches you, holding you close for a moment, his own body shaking as he fights to catch his breath.

The sticky warmth of your release and his cum pooling between your thighs has him grinning like a devil. “Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he pants, pulling out slowly, hissing at the tight drag of your walls around him.

Gently, he lowers you forward, your cheek pressing against the soft carpet. He goes to caress you, but your body twitches, still caught in the aftershocks, and you let out a weak, incoherent whimper.

“Too much. Don’t touch me. Don’t even look at me.”

He laughs, a low, heady sound, still lightheaded from his own climax. “Whatever you say,” he mutters, reaching for the camera. He adjusts the viewfinder, pointing it at your wrecked body bent over in front of the fireplace.

“C’mon, nena,” he coaxes. “Roll over for me. Gotta get a good shot of my cum dripping out of this perfect pussy.”

His vulgar words make your clit tingle but you know you can’t go for another round right now. Or any time soon, really.

With a soft huff, you roll onto your back, spreading your legs wide despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs. Tears of pleasure still cloud your vision as you gaze up at him, your chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

The camera captures everything—your swollen, glistening folds, the obscene trail of his cum trickling from your hole, evidence of how thoroughly he’s claimed you.

A lewd gurgling sound fills the air as the thick, creamy fluid bubbles out of you, sliding down to smear across your puckered entrance.

Javier is transfixed, his cock twitching despite his exhaustion. The urge to stuff his spend back into you with his fingers is almost overwhelming, but he reels it in. You’ve tapped out, and he respects your limits.

“So fucking hot,” he murmurs, his voice reverent as he watches. “Blow a kiss to the camera, baby.”

You smile weakly, giggling through your exhaustion. Licking your lips slowly, you pucker up and blow a kiss toward the lens, finishing with a playful, fucked-out wink.

The action is pure lust and sweetness combined, and he lets out a satisfied hum before finally stopping the recording.

“My girl, you did so well,” Javier murmurs, his voice soft and full of admiration. His praise seeps into your skin like balm, soothing you with the warmth of his presence.

He reaches for the couch pillows and the throw blanket, crafting a cozy nest right there on the floor by the fire. 

He doesn’t care that you’re both sticky with sweat and the remnants of your passion— all he cares about is making you comfortable.

Feeling the fog of pleasure begin to lift, you roll onto your side, your body aching in the best way possible, reaching for him instinctively.

Javi doesn’t hesitate; he scoops you up with ease, settling you on his chest. Your head rests between his pecs, rising and falling with his steady breaths. His calloused fingers trail up and down your naked back, a calming rhythm that lulls you into serenity.

“I can’t believe I squirted,” you admit, your voice muffled against his chest. “Isn’t that…you know…piss? Shouldn’t we be in the shower right now?”

The question pulls a laugh from deep within him, a sound so rich and full that it vibrates through his chest and onto your cheek. “Eh,” he says, shrugging lazily. “Doesn’t really matter. What I do know is that I’m so damn proud of you, baby. I know the tape is goin’ to be fuckin’ gold.” His tone drips with adoration, each word laced with pride.

“But if it makes you feel better, we can always get back in the tub.”

You hum in response, nuzzling into the curve of his chest and letting your lips wander, pressing soft kisses over his golden skin. “That sounds really good, actually,” you murmur, your voice still laced with a dreamy haze. “But I don’t think I can walk.”

He lets out another laugh, his arms tightening around you. “I can carry you,” he offers, ever the gentleman, even now.

“Or,” you counter with a playful grin, trailing kisses up to his collarbone and then his jaw, “we could stay here, take a quick power nap by the fire, and then…” You pause, your lips brushing his as you whisper, “I can ride you.”

Javier groans, the sound low and full of mock exasperation. “You’re definitely trying to kill me.”

Your laughter mingles with his as you capture his lips in a kiss, slow and unhurried. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you entwined by the warmth of the fire. His hands cradle your face as yours slide into his hair, fingers weaving through the dark strands.

The kiss deepens, turning languid and exploratory, a perfect blend of tenderness and desire.

With you in his arms, he feels whole, like every piece of you was made to fit into his. Time seems to stretch and stop, the crackling fire and the soft hum of your breaths the only soundtrack to your moment.

Here, in his embrace, you’re not just his lover; you’re his everything.

i have a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @almostempty . @thundermartini . @auteurdelabre . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @yourmommycallsmemommy . @larascorneroftheworld . @letsmeetintheafterglow . @lunatiquess . @myownwholewildworld . @pasc4lfuzz . @sjc7542 . @almostfoxglove . @shy-taylorsversion . @theredvelvetbitch . @xxbadchoicexx . @lumpatto . @haylee-e . @guelyury . @doblasftcisco . @ashhlsstuff . @kluvspedro . @goodvibesonly421 .

[shikai-the-storyteller]

A few notes about Realm SMP:

Tubbo hopes to have an event every week and ideally thinks this would be a 6 month server

There's a "level up" system but it will be tailored so people won't be left behind if they can't log in much

Armor and Combat is DND inspired, but it's not 100% accurate to DND

Tubbo looked at the 5 main MCYT communities he's been in / watched and that's the "pool" he chose people from

There's no plans for an in-game translator because it's expensive and also Tubbo "doesn't want to step on Quackity's toes" :(

Tubbo says he doesn't have a lot of Spanish-speaking streamers on his Discord friend list so there was a limit to how many people he could message, but he wants to add more people (he has 5 planned already)

Lore is dependent on what the people on the server do, he likes more freestyle flowing RP

There's no big team behind the server, it's just Tubbo and Tango helping him with some things he might not understand (however, he has a team he wants to use for the New Year Event he has in mind). He may look into getting some admins to help enforce rules

He made it so players can play Realm SMP with default Minecraft, he doesn't want to overwhelm people with too many mod downloads.

There is NO mod pack! Realm SMP is vanilla, it's just custom texture packs and plugins.

Tubbo says he's been overwhelmed by the amount of support it's received so far, but he's a bit nervous too

He says he doesn't have Missa added on Discord but he tried to contact him (?)

No set classes, but people can specify their skill points to unlock certain things on skill trees and build their own classes

There IS a life system (😰) but it's a bit different. There's 3 lives — if you die 3 times you're out, but it's only semi-hardcore because when you die, your stats are set to 0 and you're in spectator-mode, but players can craft an item to bring you back at 1 life and you get all your stats back.

There's no "downing" system, if you die you did, you can't be picked back up like on QSMP

No "keep inventory" on death

There's no limit to the amount of times you can be resurrected (thank god) Tubbo says it would kinda suck otherwise because then people would just get banned off the server at some point after dying x amount of times

The Nether IS enabled, the End isn't enabled yet because Tubbo wants to make a cool custom boss fight.

There will be proximity chat

Etoiles (in chat) asked about armor and Tubbo tells him he'a really glad Etoiles agreed to join, even though he wasn't planning on doing much Minecraft stuff anymore

Streamers can play off-stream

Tubbo says he has a "Badboyhalo Contingency Force" (it's Tubbo and Tango)

Tubbo says the Realm SMP concept came to him in a dream

Mob strength will scale as players "level up"

Deaths to a bug or glitch don't count, but all othet deaths will

Events won't be all PVP-based because he wants people to enjoy the events even if they aren't a huge Minecraft player

Two banned items: mending books and elytra, which will be tied to future events

Tubbo says he's happy to do anything himself, but if anyone really wants to be an admin, it'd be voluntary like a Twitch mod kind of deal since it's just him and Tango. (He already has a team of people he goes to for admin stuff, it wouldn't be random people being admins)

In the hour before the server launches, he'll be showing off server features

He reminded people in the player Discord it's just for fun, the life system isn't meant to be competitive and he doesn't want sweats to be dicks about it since not every player is a big Minecraft player

He has a 6 month timeframe in mind but it'll last as long as people want to play, if it fizzles out in a month then it fizzles out in a month, it lasts as long as people play it.

There will be NPCs "When he gets them sorted" but he's a one-man army doing everything

He reminds people to "manage their expectations" because he's only one guy – he can't do events like Purgatory like Quackity because he doesn't have a massive team like he did.

He says if his merch stuff goes well then maybe he can get 1 or 2 people to help with the Realm project

Tubbo is still answering Q&A stuff on stream right now, but these are the biggest things he's said so far!

[bunny-jpeg]

Charles Leclerc + pudding chomeur + sangria

bakery menu

thank you for ordering from the menu! orders are still open, so please hit me up! i'd love to make something up for you, these have been a ton of fun and i hope to make more in the future! thank you for all the support! a nice short and sweet prompt for the lovely people at home!

pudding chomeur ("i don't share.") + sangria (drunk sex) served by charles leclerc (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, drunk sex, facetime calls (sorry max!), jealousy, a touch of possessive behavior (but he loves you so much), doggy style, dirty talk, everyone's drunk

charles never considered himself to be a possessive man. there was no reason to be, jealousy was never a good look on him. he had beautiful green eyes, but he was no green eyed monster. but he very much didn't like how max was talking to you.

he also didn't like that the wold champion was eyeing your cleavage then looking to charles in the near distance of the club you were all at. those blue eyes looked to charles, almost daring him with what he was going to do next. max practically had you cornered while you rambled in your drunken state, what was charles going to do?

the devil was a talker, and he was currently in charles' ear.

back in your apartment, charles' hands rarely left your body. you stumbled a little into the apartment as you kicked off your heels and ended up on the couch. but you weren't on there long before charles had you back on your now-bare feet and headed towards the bedroom. charles held onto you tightly as he walked into the room, only to let you go as he pushed you onto the bed.

"strip." he said, flushed in the face and a little out of breath. something came over your charming, loving boyfriend when he got enough alcohol in him. pink in the cheeks down to his neck and his insatiable need for you.

"strip?"

he nodded as he started to undo his linen white shirt, his hands were a little shaky as he got his shirt off, he wore no undershirt and then worked on the belt of his pants. you got your dress off before charles has the chance to rip it off of you.

"you're mine."

"charles."

"say it."

you sat on the edge of the bed, now naked. you then swallowed and said, "i'm yours, charles." you shifted in your spot, "now and forever."

he got his slacks off and soon his underwear. he admired your nude form once you slipped your lace panties off. he watched them fall to the ground before he pounced on you. he pressed himself against you for a moment before he got you on your elbows and knees. your face pressed into the mattress, you moaned as he brushed his cock up against your cunt. "say it again."

"i'm yours, charles." you moaned as you arched your back a little. that was what he liked to hear. it polluted his brain more than the alcohol and it made his cock twitch.

"that's what i like to hear. i'm never sharing you, you are mine and mine alone." he didn't need max's hands all over you. not all over what was his. he continued to rub against you before he sank his cock into you. he covered your body mostly with his as he got all the way the root of his cock.

"charles!" you squeaked as you held onto the covers under you. his pace wasn't gentle, it was rough and it made the back of your skull throb with the intensity of it. when charles was drunk, he fucked you like an animal. a far cry from the gentle pretty boy most thought of his as.

he couldn't help it, something about you mixed with hard liquor made everything fire off in his brain. he needed you, he hungered for you. as he fucked you till you were moaning, he grabbed his phone from his pants that were on the bed. he propped it up on the pillows and as he drunkingly fucked you, he called the only person he could think of.

before max could even say hello, he was greeted to the sounds of your fucking. from your high pitched noises to the creak of the bed. he could see you, but most of all see charles' hungry, drunk gaze.

max chuckled and said, "i guess you're sharing now." his voice low as he admired how charles was fucking you. it was messy sex, the kind of sex that the predestined shouldn't be having.

he said through a tense jaw, "i don't share." then continued to shove your face further into the bed. he looked towards the camera and saw max on the screen, "don't put your hands on her again."

max shifted a little in his bed and was all smiles. even in the low light of the room, charles could see the heat in the drunk verstappen's face. in only fueled him to fuck you harder. max said quietly, "no need to be so rough her, mate. she's not going anywhere."

charles could tell that max's other hand was down the front his sweatpants. he knew that bastard was jerking off to this. he looked back to the back of your head as he loomed over you. his thrusts were hard and made you whine with each movement.

only he could drive you crazy. your noises were angelic and it bled pleasure into charles' head. he briefly looked at max on screen and smiled. all three of you were painfully drunk. max's heavy pants could be heard, but you were lost in your own sexual euphoria. charles continued to fuck you roughly, he watched your ass bounce against his cock as he fucked you right into the mattress.

"please, charles." you whined as you felt everything fill your head. it was painfully hot. there was nothing else quite like it. you drooled onto the bed as he fucked you. the pleasure made your head feel heavy. it was a sick sexual heat that left you clamoring for more. you were drunk and your lover was drunk.

"i got you, baby." he said, he could feel the sweat down his back as he rutted up inside of you, "you look so beautiful. tell me who you belong to, who fucks you just right." who owns you, were the unspoken words.

you whined, not knowing max was on call, "charles. fuck, you, it's you!' and you clawed at the covers, you felt the urge to climax. you moaned heavily as he continued to fuck you.

you both didn't last long, and neither did max. you came first with a harsh moan which only spurred charles to finish inside of you with a loud groan, that bordered on high pitched. and max bit into his palm as he came to not alert you that you were being filmed. charles wiped his eyes to focus himself before he turned off the call without even saying goodbye, leaving max to clean up his own mess. the phone was put further on the bed before charles got you onto your back.

he admired your sweaty features and your blissed out state. he licked his lips before he hiked up your hips, "i'm not done with you. i'm going to mark you so max never touches you again."

-

the next morning, charles woke up and checked his phone through bleary eyes. he had very recollection of last night once the two of you got home. he noticed that he was on facetime with max for over half an hour. he assumed he had fallen asleep while they had a conversation.

that was until he checked the text message that the driver sent him. the words made charles' eyes go wide.

'she looked good under you. maybe next time i can join." <3

[asunflowerana]

eye candy — Sakusa Kiyoomi

summary: only you have kiyoomi's heart. and he'll make sure every single one knows that.

It's lunch break, and Kiyoomi peacefully savors his beef stew, his cousin making him company as usual, sitting beside him at the table far from the noisy students. Among the cafeteria, comments about the next volleyball match can be heard, especially with the semifinals of the spring tournament qualifiers, wondering if the team’s star will keep up with his performance or fail to give the school another victory.

What does he think about their opinion? 

Well, actually, he just doesn't care. 

Sakusa doesn’t play to get fan’s approval or popularity: he plays because he enjoys what he does. Being noticed is just an effect of his efforts to become a professional someday, and even though the spotlight brings some benefits, he wouldn’t mind if his whole fanclub disappeared suddenly. Most of their support is superficial and sham, too shallow for his liking. 

Who truly matters to Omi is those who have always been there for him, way before his rise. Like you, for example. 

His favorite fan.

He cares for you so, so much, in a way he never imagined he could do it. It’s strange, now thinking of it, how someone so skeptical about love before now does anything possible to show you how much he appreciates your existence, and how grateful he is for being yours, and for having the honor of calling you his. 

If it depends on Sakusa, this will remain for the rest of his life.

Motoya’s a front row spectator of your relationship, being there since the moment you and his cousin first interacted with each other, you politely asking to borrow one of his pens in History class. Imagine the blonde’s shock when he saw Omi not cleaning the pen after you’ve returned.

He was the first one to hear about the brunette's feelings, the one who helped him pick the first date place, the flowers, the gifts, even the dorky letters Omi sent to your address, wanting to be different from the usual texting-guys. If there’s one person in the world who knows how crazy in love Sakusa Kiyoomi is for you, it’s Motoya. He isn’t bothered at all, having a lot of fun every time he watches his cousin getting all doki doki whenever you’re around.

And how protective he gets when you’re not. 

“Sakusa.” A girl suddenly approaches their table, her sultry but invasive voice interrupting the chewing of both cousins. If Motoya’s not mistaken, this girl is Tai, one of Class D students. He secretly grimaces, already predicting the reason she came to talk to Omi, like all the other girls that has been crushing on his cousin. 

Poor girl.

Kiyoomi doesn’t even look up from his food, preparing a spoon full of vegetables. “Yes?”

“Um-” She fidgets a little with the disinterest in his tone, but a charming smile appears on her face nonetheless. Oh, she’s trying hard. “I just came to wish you a good game this Friday. I’ll be cheering for you on the stands.”

“Hmmm.” He doesn’t even hide his boredom, contemplating the pleasing taste of the seasoned stew. He hopes the staff used gloves while preparing it this time. “Didn’t know you were part of the cheer’s team.” 

“N-no!” She chuckles a little too loud, trying to hide her nervousness. “I’m not part of the team. I just… I wanted to cheer just for you, you know? Give you some boost for the game.”

Unfortunately for her, this time he raises his gaze until it finds her anxious eyes, which averts when they notice the unpleasant frown on his face. “Boost? Do you think I need your cheers to play well?”

“N-not at all. But, you know, having an eye candy could help you play even better.”

Motoya snorts loudly, not being able to hold how impressed he is by the girl’s dumb confidence. Is she that clueless? Sakusa has been dating you for almost six months, there’s no way she doesn’t know by now that he’s taken. He watches as his cousin stares at her for a few uncomfortable seconds, his cold glare making even him uncomfortable. Thank goodness, he is not the target this time.

“I don’t see any eye candy here.” Short and frank, Omi answers her move.

Tai looks clearly dejected, but she took the hint that insisting wouldn’t do any good to her side. To lessen the embarrassing moment, she nods at him, pretending his words didn’t have an effect on her heart, and she offers him a brief goodbye before rushing away from their table, shoulders slowly falling with shame.

“Oof, that one hurted.” Motoya breaks the silence, his eyes widening as he checks his wristwatch. “Twenty-five seconds! It’s your new ditch record, Omi-kun.”

Sakusa rolls his eyes at his comment, having another spoon of his stew “She's been trying that for weeks. She even knows ______.”

“Well, I think she got the message now.” The blonde chuckles, eyes twinkling as he spots you entering the cafeteria right after his comment. He raises his left hand and waves at you with a smile, succeeding in catching your attention.. “And look who’s coming to the party.”

From his cousin's excited tone, Omi has a pretty good guess on who he’s referring to, and he instinctively searches through the crow to check it out. It’s amazing how Omi’s semblance lights up when he sees you. The transformation is visible, and if he could, Motoya would totally take a picture of his cousin’s starstruck face right now.

“Hey guys!” You greet them as soon as you get closer, and your boyfriend immediately takes a chair from the closest table and arranges beside him for you to sit on. Motoya holds back a laugh, and you thank him with a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Omi.”

Hearts could come out of Sakusa’s eyes.

“You’re so beautiful today.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, making you giggle in that sweet way that makes his heart flutter every single time.

“Okay lover, you can go back to eat, she won’t go anywhere.” His cousin cracks a joke, but the brunette doesn’t even pay attention to his words, choosing to focus on you instead.

The displays of affection don’t stop, and he doesn’t even notice how sappy (but sweet) he’s being with you. He holds your hand on top of the table, absently stroking your skin with his thumb and occasionally kissing the back of it; he nuzzles your head when you cuddle his arm, loving to smell the scent of your shampoo; he looks at you intently as you speak about your last class, paying attention to every word that comes out of your pretty mouth like it’s the most important speech he’s ever heard.

Motoya doesn’t know if he looks the other way in disgust, or if he just smiles, happy that his cousin has finally found someone special for him. Or if he takes some pictures of sweet Omi, which would be a good opportunity to make fun of him later.

“Okay guys, I’ll catch up with you later.” The blonde announces, figuring you’d better have your privacy; being the third wheel can be really tiring sometimes.“ Omi, see you at the warm-up. Enjoy your time together, lovebirds.” The blonde leaves, leaving the two of you more comfortable getting closer to each other. Omi kisses your cheek sweetly before caressing it with his palm.

“Will you watch the match today?” He questions, loving the idea of spotting your beautiful self in the middle of the game. 

The question sounds a little strange to your ears, because you almost never lose his games. But you choose to answer regardless, caressing his scalp full of curly locks, to his delight. “Yes, of course I’ll be there.”

“Good.” A small smile of his grows with your touch. “I need my eye candy.”

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[kryptznnn]

♛- Hypnotized

🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺

🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺

➸ INTERESTS; - pro-hero! katsuki bakugo x f! intern reader

➸ BACKGROUND; - (requested submission by @nivphcyo) As you reached your early twenties, you successfully received a part time job as an intern within a specific pro-hero’s company. More specifically one you’ve had a crush on since your teens, so you do everything in your power to make him see you the way you do him.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc. roughly 1.5k, employee x boss trope, friends with benefits, working environment, age gap (48 & 22), smut, slight dirty talk, daddy/sir kink, overstimulation, p in v (unprotected), orgasm mention (both m & f), oral sex (f!receiving), marking/hickey mentions, kissing, romantic gestures, romantic tension, sexual tension, indecision, etc.

➸a.i; - thank you for the req!! sorry it’s short but i hope you enjoy it and it’s within what you expected, i had fun writing it!! xoxo

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

song recommendations:

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

His eyes hadn’t left your figure as you walked into his office for the second time this week. Your heels clicking onto the clean tile floors as he watched from his desk, slowly covering his mouth with his hand before dragging it down and looking away.

He soon stood up, buttoning the single button he had removed on his tuxedo jacket before walking over to you and leaving his hand out to shake. You took it and shook it politely, now making eye contact with him before he let your hand go and looked away.

Katsuki Bakugo was one of many things, a pro-hero, a model, a former teacher, a former husband, and a current businessman. Out of all of his professions has he never encountered a problem as great as the one in front of him today. You were a problem, you always had been since you first started several months ago.

As he went over your files and heard of the others within his firm speaking of you he hadn’t taken much thought into it, but when you came into his office all cheerful and happy he knew. He knew how much of an issue this could’ve spiraled into if he didn’t get control of himself.

He was too old to be dealing with this, far too old. The only thing that could make others not tell it either was possibly the fact that his natural hair color was so light, practically camouflaging the grey hairs that made their ways out from his scalp. He could tell of course, he always has been able too, and even as he let his beard grow out slowly he could tell. The small dashes of grey and sand that seemed to mix together within his beard proved it.

By some miracle that he might’ve prayed for, he gained a compliment from you on your first encounter, complimenting his hairstyle along with his beard. You spoke of how it suited his figure and level of maturity, that you liked it, and honestly the way you spoke he was sure you had purred the words out instead of spoke. Whatever it was had him hooked, he was hooked onto you even though he knew he shouldn’t have been.

If anything you were a little under half of his age, and towards some alarm it hadn’t bothered you, but it had to him entirely. Let alone the fact you were his employee, working towards his firm to support his work as a pro-hero, knowing he would retire soon enough further down the years.

He wasn’t sure what had switched within you or what caused you to make such a drastic thought, but when you began to come to work with different attire it awoken something in him. Your skirts getting shorter or tighter, wearing your tuxedo jacket less and less within the firm unless there was a change in weather. He hated it, he hated what you were doing and he hated how it made him feel.

He also hated how whenever you would walk into his office and did that little thing you’d do with your hands or face before letting your hair down slightly. You were teasing him, you both knew it, you loved it and you loved watching his expression. The two of you had already knew he was drawn to you, so overall if you were flirtatious or teasing there was nothing he could do to stop you or say to stick professional, because deep down in his dark desires he loved it.

He wasn’t sure if it was just lust or love, maybe a mixture of both, but he didn’t want anything else to do with anyone unless if it was you. He was just as quick to call you into his office to listen to your reports as much as he was jealous when you would be on break with other men in the firm. He would always keep his eye on you from afar, gritting his teeth as he watched you laugh with them, sway your hips, flip your hair to tie it back, reapplying parts of your makeup.

You knew better than to do things like that when he had his eyes on you, of course you didn’t actually know that, he just assumed you did. He thought the ideas and hints between the two of you were made clear without sharing any words, but apparently he was wrong. This alone has now brought the two of you here, into his office late at night after everyone’s shifts had finished.

He now was quick to offer you a seat in front of his desk as he walked over to the large glass window behind him, serving as a wall as he looked down towards the dimly lit city. He took a sharp deep breath attempting to push down the sinful thoughts he had of you earlier before speaking.

“L/n, you are one of the hardest working women I have here in my firm, and you’ve also been here for nearly a year now.” He started, still looking out the window but speaking loud enough for you to hear, your eyes were glued onto his back with furrowed brows, thinking to yourself what he must’ve been waiting to say or break the news to you.

“But I’ve also taken notice of your sudden relationship with one of the other male coworkers recently, and must ask if things have remained professional between the two of you.” He spoke, slightly turning his head over his shoulder awaiting your response, you immediately began to stutter before speaking.

“Of course sir, there’s nothing happening between us. We just joke around too much about personal stuff and other things.” You spoke in a worried tone, shaking your head slightly as you raised your hands to speak with them. He only looked back out to the window again before speaking, huffing as he did so.

“So him speaking this morning of how he was going to quote on quote ‘Fuck you senseless until you can’t think’ was also a part of the joke?” He said, his voice laced with anger. If anything even if he wasn’t turned around you could see the thick vein that would appear out of his forehead and throat out of frustration.

Honestly you were taken aback by his saying, not even aware that he had said nothing like that. You wore a shocked look on your face, thinking back to him and shuddering at the feeling of him saying those things with the other guys. You quickly realized that your silence might’ve been taken as an answer and stood up in a rush to defend yourself.

“No sir, under no circumstance was I even aware that he had said any of those things about me. I am entirely sorry, I’ve let this strain out too far, I never knew he was that type of person.” You stated, now standing up and attempting to make your way over to him slowly.

He caught onto the click of your heels again, his attitude less angry now as he could smell your perfume from behind him. This wasn’t fair, no matter how hard he tried or how upset he was at the world he could never be with you. It was as if the universe itself was teasing him instead of you, taunting him with something he had been craving, desired, but couldn’t have.

You were everything to him, and he knew it, you were intelligent and charismatic, if anything your personality was the entire opposite of his and he adored it. You gave him hope, and just by several conversations with you or about you he realized exactly what you were to him. There was even a time where he had opened up to you about his ex wife, to which you laughed at her traits and compared yourself to him, saying you would never do such things or even dream of acting that way.

And he seconded it, believing every word you said and even added that whoever you were with in the future would be lucky to have you. Then refraining back to business as he always had when the tension between the two of you became too strong. Now he had to stand here and settle this with you, his feelings included.

“I trust you.” He spoke, now turning around slowly to look at you. You only looked at him with a worried expression as your heels clicked to a stop, looking into his eyes with a slight frown. You only replied in agreement before speaking again, this time your tone hinted seriousness.

“I like my men much more older than me anyways.” You added, smirking slightly as you watched his body stiffen as his breath hitched. He quickly made his way around you before taking a seat at his soft chair at his desk, his back now facing you. You only raised a brow and made your way over to him waverly.

This was wrong, he thought to himself about everything, anything that could die down the feeling of excitement he felt when you spoke those words to him. He was old enough to be your father if he wanted, let alone the fact you worked for him, it was forbidden, everything about it was.

A large emphasis on was, because as of right now he had you spread across his desk. Your back laid flat on the harsh cold wood as your legs were spread. Your face was flushed and your hair had been a mess, let alone the lipstick you wore, as it was no surprise that your clothing had been practically forced off, scattered across the floor behind you as he ate you out.

Your small moans and mewls were like music to his ears as he hummed in satisfaction listening to you. He was intoxicated by you and everything you did, so when his grip on your thighs tightened from how hard you gripped his hair and your rambling had gotten louder he wasted no time in applying more pressure. The sight from his point of view was for sore eyes, watching as beads of sweat trickled down your throat and forehead out of concentration, and your hair sticking to parts of your face. Even every now and then when you would whimper and throw your head back as tears rolled down your cheeks, he loved it.

“Sir, I’m so close, please- fuck.” You whined, your legs now taking the initiative to press closed, nearly closing his head in between as he held your legs spread, only humming in response to which your body shook, feeling the vibrations in your clit.

Sooner than later your orgasm had washed over you harshly, your back arching as you mumbled over and over lines of curse words. Attempting to wash over your high you practically began to ride his face, heavy moans and grunts leaving your throat as you seized, now attempting to sit up straight to look at him.

He had a large grin plastered on his face, a mixture of saliva and your remains coated his lips before he licked them and yanked you closer to him. His now unbuttoned shirt was being removed as he wore a wife eater underneath, you placed your hand on his chest, quick to roll it up as he removed it.

For someone within his late forties his body was to kill for, he might’ve lost a lot of things or changed on various occasions but his body and physique wasn’t one of them. You quickly looked away flushed and drew your hand away, only for him to pull it back and place it back over his torso.

“You asked for this remember? Now help me out.” He spoke, now drawing your attention back to him before unzipping his pants, his painful erection now springing free as he pulled down his underwear. You took action before he could, your cold hands dragging down before making your way to it, hearing him hiss as you pressed your thumb over his tip.

It had leaked of pre-cum and if you hadn’t known any better when you picked up your head to look at him it seemed as if he was embarrassed by it. You wasted no time before aligning yourself against it, rubbing up and down on it attempting to coat it in your slick before pressing it towards your entrance.

Quickly catching you by surprise Katsuki slammed into you, his thrusts quick and rough as you yelled at the sudden movement towards how sensitive you were from your primary orgasm. Your hands made way to his shoulders, practically hanging onto him for dear life as he bent down and whispered into your ear.

“Whatcha think? Gonna be my little work slut? Huh?” He asked, pulling back slightly as he was answered with your moans getting louder before playing with your nipples with one hand, as he placed the other one down on the desk beside you as leverage. The way you moaned several names towards him and cried underneath him gave him his answer, especially with how quickly you were nodding now. He was surprised at first seeing and listening to you, muttering the words ‘daddy’ and ‘sir’ repeatedly, it had awakened something in him he hadn’t expected.

He only chuckled at you before releasing your nipples from his grasp and pushing down on your lower abdomen, his large hand finding way over your pelvis. His smirk had now widened as a realization came to mind before he spoke again.

“Can you feel me right here? Yeah? You feel daddy inside you?” He asked with a coo, almost as if to mock you before your tears become more, nodding to him as your nails were now digging into his skin as your legs were left lifted into the air. Somehow by your surprise your left heel had still remained on your foot, your stockings now full of sweat and having a large tear in the middle between your legs.

“Please, please sir, I can’t” you whined, now changing the name you had called him prior between daddy and sir. He only persisted you could as he angled himself deeper inside of you, hissing as he felt you continue to tighten around him, your gummy walls weakening him.

It hadn’t helped that now it felt as if he was destroying you from inside out, his tip brutally brushing against your cervix with each thrust. Causing your curses and babbles to become louder and louder as he lowered his hand to play with your clit as your leg had now recoiled back. Your knee had been bent entirely and you could feel your heel brush against your bottom as he did so.

You felt yourself about to give out before being snapped back into reality as a familiar feeling brewed in your lower belly. The feeling was more intense than before as you now began whining and repeating the same actions as before. Katsuki could already tell that you were close, but he still kept his eyes locked onto your face.

You looked pretty, he thought to himself, beautiful even. Worn out and flushed beyond the point of coming back, heavy breathing and salty skin from your sweat and small hickeys that danced across your collarbones. Without any thought he leaned down to kiss you, his eyes closed as you kissed him back, his tongue asking for entrance which you obliged as he explored your mouth.

It hadn’t helped how you moaned into the kiss when you reached your orgasm, quickly making his cock twitch from inside you. His heavy pants and worships of praise and slight degrading quickly came to an end after you reached your high, quickly pulling out of you before reaching own orgasm, stroking himself shortly before his release coated your lower belly.

As you both breathed heavy and looked at the mess you had made around his office you smiled slightly at each other. You soon laid out back on his desk as you now felt tired, feeling him wipe on your lower stomach with some sort of cloth before kissing you there.

This was going to be the first of many incidents within his office as his intern, that you both knew.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

ur writing is so yummy!! i had a rlly hot idea idk tho lol

Logan holding the reader in a headlock and absolutely ravaging them 🤤

YUMMY?? Anon this is a compliment that simply makes me want to be at your beck and call 😘 and that, my dear (gn), is a very hot idea indeed. Thank you for the ask!! I’m sorry it took me like five years to finish it 😅 (also, its not the best, I’m sorry for that too 😭) but like life is… 😀😀💪💪💀💀

Anyways.

Minors, do NOT interact.

-ps: imagine any Logan you’d like! Also, comments are highly appreciated!! Beyond that, if you have a request of your own, please fire away!

Warnings: erm, I think the request has that one covered- but smut, piv, mentions of multiple positions, overstimulation, dirty talk, slight degrading?, sweet!logan even though he’s very rough, safe words. Afab reader.

————————————————————————

As far as sex with you went, Logan had one very important rule for himself: “don’t be rough.”

For as much as a part of him wanted bend your cute little self over a table and fuck you senseless until you had nothing on your mind other than his name, he knew he shouldn’t. He was worried he would break you. Genuinely worried. After all, it might be fun in the moment but the bruises from his adamantium skeleton? You probably wouldn’t be able to sit right or walk right for a week, and that’s not an exaggeration.

That’s not to say that the sex isn’t already fantastic. He’ll thrust into you with slow yet powerful thrusts that leave you shaking with every orgasm. He’ll put you in strenuous positions- time to join up with yoga!- and set every single nerve ending on fire.

But like him, you couldn’t help but want to see him let the animal out. You’d been having wet dreams about it recently, begging him to be rough with you.

Eventually he gave in, saying that this was to be a one time thing. This took SO much convincing, and it had to be on a night where you both had nowhere to be for the next couple days. Once that was settled, he finally, begrudgingly said ok, telling you that you would have to tell him to stop if you needed to. You agreed, and that’s how you landed in your bed, already on your third orgasm simply from him roughly stretching you out with his fingers and tongue.

God does he love the way your face screws up into that pleasure filled smile with your eyes closed tight. The way your head nestles into the pillows as you try to get away from him, not because you don’t like but because it just feels too good.

“L-Logan,” you whine, clutching at his hair. He groans into your cunt at the tugging, not relenting. Your legs have been quivering since your second orgasm, and show no signs of stopping.

“Gotta get you ready for me, sweetheart. Said you wanted it rough,” he mutters, before moving away from you and settling on top of you. You whine at the loss of contact even though you’re extremely excited for what’s to come.

“You know your safe word, right?” his eyes are black with lush. You nod. “Can you tell it to me, baby?” he prods. You oblige.

“Good girl,” he mutters, stroking himself a few times before lining up with your entrance. “My good girl.”

You’re positively soaked, so it’s no surprise that Logan’s able to slip in without any resistance, immediately hitting the deepest parts inside of you. You moan loudly, already on cloud nine.

“You like that, sweet girl? Well you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” he smirks, and that’s the last thing he says before pulling out all the way and slamming back into you, making you yelp his name with delight.

He takes you so many ways- missionary, doggy, mating press, screwdriver, the works, until finally…

He wrestles you so that your back is against his broad chest, his cock splitting you from behind as you’re forced to look in the mirror. And then one of his beautiful, muscular arms flexes, forcing you in a headlock for support but all it does is pour gasoline on the flame of pleasure he had been stoking within you.

“I love your arms, Logan,” you tell him stupidly as he thrusts up into you. You couldn’t even tell how many times you or he had come, and you’re so out of it that you can barely register your mixed releases seeping out of your tight hole.

“I know you do,” he teases through a grunt. “I seen you looking at them all the time. Thought you might like this.”

It’s the fact that he actually thinks about what you might like before doing it that makes you come yet again, and he chucked, holding you close but his pace unfaltering.

“Makin’ so many messes, dolly. That good?” he says right in your ear before nipping at its lobe.

“Yes,” you cry, overstimulated but feeling as though you’re on cloud nine.

You see your fucked out self in the mirror, but you’re far more focused on Logan. Logan who’s face is scrunched up with determination, his jaw clenched as he brings your hips down to meet his every thrust. Logan, who’s cock is visibly stretching you open with every single hard, fast, deep thrust.

It gets to the point where you don’t think you can take it anymore because it just feels too good. Your head is lulling against his chest, relying on his arm to support it. A dumb, fucked out smile rests on it. But then he starts rubbing in your puffy clit, and you cry. “Logannnn I can’t- I- it’s too much,” you pout, but he just chuckles right into your ear.

“Whats the matter? You been begging for this for so long and now you can’t take it? Poor baby,” he coos mockingly, his pace never faltering.

“Logan!” you whine, clenching on him as hard as you can. He grunts.

“You need your safe word, baby?”

“No!”

“Then shut the fuck up and take it,” he scolds, somehow maneuvering you so that you’re on your hands and knees, his arm still around your neck as he snaps his hips against your. You think your legs are going to give out, but you don’t care because it just feels too good. You’re whining his name over and over again, your cheek smug against his strong arm as he abuses your cunt.

“We should do this more often, huh? Let me fuck into you like you’re a dirty whore,” he grins, impossibly picking up the pace. You clench at his words. “You really are a slut for me, huh, baby?”

“Yes!” you gasp, your eyes screwing shut as he brings you to the edge again. You’re past the point of overstimulation, your limp body unable to fight back as he bruises your hips with his own.

“Good girl,” he praises, making you whimper again by pressing his fingers to your pathetic clit. He expertly maneuvers his deft fingers against it, and you cry, unable to keep the tears of pleasure at bay any more. He tuts, speeding up his pace in response and all you can do is lie back and take it, powerless to say or do anything. A few minute more and you come again with a weak groan, your legs fully numb. He follows suit, finishing and stilling inside of you.

“You okay, sweets?” he asks after taking a moment to catch his breath. Your brain is still fuzzy, your body limp against his. You’re barely conscious enough to register the soreness between your legs, much less his rumbled words.

“Baby?” he asks, obviously concerned.

“Mmm,” you acknowledge him. Tears are still slipping from your eyes, residuals from how good he was making you feel.

“There she is,” you can all but feel his smile. He slips out of you and you whine, your cunt weeping for him, leaking what is definitely too much cum.

“What a gorgeous sight,” he meets your eyes in the mirror in front of your bed.

“Mhm,” you agree. He moves to stand, knowing that you need to rest, but naturally you pout as he gets off of the bed. “Need to get you cleaned up, sweet girl,” he says gently, brushing your sweaty hair off of your forehead.

“Kiss?” you ask sweetly, your watery eyes impossible to say no to.

“Where d’you want a kiss?” he teases, kissing your forehead. “Here?” You pout, tilting your head up toward his lips. “Oh, I see. Here?” he kisses your nose. You make an annoyed noise, and he takes pity on you. “Ohh, here,” he says, kissing you sweetly on the lips.

Because even though Logan has that power to be rough, when he loves on you, it’ll always be sweet.

[antivivziepopparade]

All of the proof that we have that Vivziepop is abusive. (So far....)

While you support this post please go ahead and support my channel to see more about Vivziepop's abusive behavior. Thanks!

1. She rushes her employees.

Season 1 was made in 2020. While Season 2 was made in 2021 while being released with MULTIPLE EPISODES only ONE year later.

That's-

INSANE!

-and im about to tell you why:

The average cartoon needs almost ONE WHOLE YEAR to produce one episode. And this is what we see in MAINSTREAM shows.

Meanwhile, Helluva Boss took only one year (and a half) to make MULTIPLE ENTIRE EPISODES that last over 20 minutes. The longest waiting time for an episode being 8 months. Not even a year, and we get multiple episodes off the drawing board.

You can even see here that it's taken only three years to make 16 episodes. When this is an indie studio, so this should have taken so much longer to make. Yet for some reason, it took only a few years for us to get full seasons. In 2021, we got over 4 episodes alone. Have you ever wondered why these episodes come out so fast while other shows take a lot longer to get new seasons? That's an easy question to ask... Spindlehorse...

Is being ABUSED.

And I have the proof to show.

2. The pay controversy.

Spindlehorse's payment has been under controversy for providing the lowest pay possible to those that work at the studio.

One piece of evidence was given by Adam himself (albeit unintentionally) by saying this:

This kind of pay is highly unstable! And before you say "But he didn't force them to be there-"

LOOK.

The employees themselves admitted that they had no choice. People had no choice and Vivienne Medrano took advantage of that for her own selfish desires. This is disgusting treatment of a studio as small as Spindlehorse. Or any studio for that matter.

Hell! chaifootsteps said once that once Zeurel released that he was paying his animators too low, he deleted one of the tweets showing the low pay and decided to do something to give his employees better wages. Meanwhile, Chimera Bunny pays even less than Viv does and just because paying your workers low is normal in the animation industry- plot twist: Doesn't make it ok!

People have suffered so much in this industry, it's why "New Deal for Animation" exists. The only reason you haven't seen many Vivziepop workers having protests and speaking out is because Vivziepop says things like this behind people's backs if they "dare" do anything she doesn't like:

So that explains as to why so many people remain as "anon" or say nothing at all because they got cold feet. Vivienne's terrible!

Especially since even her top employees have admitted to not being paid enough despite Adam's "I pay them to stay if they make us the most mon-ey!" claims from the article:

Also this:

This is how she speaks about her own employees:

"YOU DONT LIKE HOW I TREAT YOU?! FUCK OFF!"

Straight up abuse.

Also, wasn't Walt Disney known for abusing his employees?

To the point where people had an entire protest in 1914 about it?

Wow... such a healthy workplace treatment comparison. Doesn't make Vivziepop look more like a jerk.... at all! /s

3. She bullies kids/laughed at a sa victim that was sa'ed by her friends. As one kid was bullied into a panic attack (I know them personally) back in about 2020 and Viv decided to vague post about them behind their back even after they apologized.

For someone who's so focused on "forgiving despite cancel culture" she sure likes to blame and harass people for disliking even ONE thing about her show or herself. One thing- and you're harassed over making a meme about a cartoon with fictional characters (What Froot Did that set Vivziepop and Gumball off.)

Secondly, one of her friends sexually harassed a minor.

And instead of acknowledging the sa, Vivziepop wrote this:

She ended up calling it a "joke" and made fun of the victim involved.

This is outright abusive behavior that should not be tolerated.

Children don't deserve to be traumatized this way. Especially over something as simple as making memes about a cartoon (negative or not) or simply telling someone to stop fetishizing abuse.

More on this in this video made by Gummypop:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND-

That's all that I have for now!

Will likely be updating this post in the future. Goodbye!

EDIT:

More evidence of Vivziepop using abusive language and slander against her employees behind their back. Claims of them being a "stalker" (like she did to Kedi and also its clear that she told her employees to say that Kaz was a "stalker" otherwise how else would they be saying these things after she fired them.) along with using abusive language such as "CUNT!" to prefer to Kaz this way in a professional setting I cannot. 💀

More evidence of Vivziepop harassing a kid:

ANOTHER edit:

More evidence, she's burning them the HELL out!

Yet ANOTHER edit:

More evidence of Spindlehorse being abusive:

EDIT:

Even MORE evidence:

The fact that the story AND the storyboards AND the animating for season one's episodes were all done in one year is just so crazy to me like... WHAT?! Either way, this post will continue to extend the more that I find evidence. So remember to look forward to that one!

EDIT:

Sadly no, as animation abuse is so common that the police dont even see it as an issue. The last time I tried to call the police on her they needed a location. The problem? There is no location of Spindlehorse since it's a "private" studio. So because of that viv gets away with abuse despite the obvious implications of her behavior and how many people came out with allegations towards her.

[nathaslosthershit]

“Notice me” “Beg for it" (LN4)

Summary: After what feels like centuries of back and forth flirting, Lando and his Mclaren teammate have tired people out with their inaction to do something about their very obvious crushes. Aka the 5 times they confused fans with their interactions + the one time they made everything clear (SMAU)

Part of my summer event! Warnings: Zak Brown, Reader sort of takes Oscar’s place? Also the timeline on this is weird sorry

mclaren

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris, and others

mclaren Proud to announce our official driver lineup for the next season as yourusername joins the McLaren family🧡! Can’t wait to see her and Lando in action next season👊🎊

username1 oh I am about to be unbearable once we get more content with these two

username2 i have no one i can tell about this

mclaren guess how we felt having to keep it a secret!

zbrownceo welcome to the family yourusername!

yourusername happy to be here!!!

yourusername Thank god the news is finally out, you all don’t know how hard it was to not scream it from the rooftops once I signed my contract

landonorris Wouldn’t want anyone else as a teammate 👊

yourusername I would

landonorris wasn’t what you were saying earlier

landonorris “oh Lando, what a dream come true to drive alongside you, I’ll be such a good teammate you’ll forget all about Carlos-whats-his-face and the other old guy”

danielricciardo why am I catching strays?

yourusername you’re saying I haven’t made a pretty good impression? Maybe I should have stayed at Alpine…

landonorris definitely not saying that, please don't leave

username3 the vibe between these two is off-

yourusername

liked by landonorris, mclaren, and others

yourusername P3! My highest yet 👊! What a blast this year has been so far and we have still got a couple races to go! While I could talk about how thrilled I am with my first podium in F1, it wouldn’t be right to not mention my teammate’s spectacular race, earning him his first F1 win. So happy I could be on the podium right next to you, Lando, to celebrate your first (of many) wins! 🎉

username1 they sure do put every other duo to shame with how much they support each other

username2 Lando’s win was amazing but my god I would rather talk about her overtakes

landonorris always the best supporter 👊

f1gossip

liked by 15,158 others

f1gossip Spotted: landonorris and yourusername seem to be spending quite a lot of time together on their summer break! While most teammates like to take this time to get away from the people they work with every day, these two seem to do the opposite, getting quite comfy with each other while on a eurotrip together.

username1 they can’t do this to me oh my god

username2 completely unprofessional in my opinion! They are coworkers they should not be vacationing together, especially since they are wearing revealing outfits at the beach. Disgusting how much this sport has changed

username3 you will live i swear its not that big a deal

username4 usually id argue against getting into drivers' business but it does seem inappropriate to be going to the beach and having dinner alone with your teammate…

username5 dont know who i am more jealous of tbh

username6 im sorry do you people not want them to get along?

yourusername

liked by zbrownceo, carlossainz, and others

yourusername team meetings and court (mclaren) ordered teammate bonding

username1 lando norris make it less obvious how in love with your teammate you are challenge (impossible)

zbrownceo I don’t think we ordered any bonding, you guys are close enough already. Maybe I will file a restraining order between you two so you guys stop distracting one another?

landonorris sorry boss 😞

yourusername boo you are no fun old man

zbrownceo want to rethink that last comment yourusername?

yourusername we promise we won’t distract each other as much, Mr. ZakBrownCEO

landonorris notice me

yourusername beg for it

carlossainz you both may be happy now but just wait until he replaces you with a fancy new teammate and forgets all about you

yourusername stop being a diva

landonorris

liked by 53,836 others

landonorris Going into today I wasn't expecting the technical failure that would cause us to have to retire the car. Because it wasn’t an easy day for me by any means, id much rather take the time to congratulate my favorite person on her first Formula 1 win. Seeing you grow from your rookie season till now has been such a wonderful thing to witness. Its even better to be by your side while you do it. No one is more deserving of this win. Congrats on your first (of many) wins :) 

username1 he is so in love i am sick

username2 who do they think they are fooling

usernamer3 so sorry to see you dnf 😢but glad to see you are in bright spirits

yourusername Lando 😭 such an incredible day and an even better celebration afterwords. Thanks for being by my side all this time, I couldn’t have done it without you

landonorris we both know damn well you would be just as successful, maybe even more considering how much of a distraction I am for you 😉

yourusername the only thing distracting about you is your stupid face and annoying personality

landonorris I guess you are just spewing out a bunch of lies today huh?

username4 they are already hot rich drivers why do they get to be in love too? 

username5 fr leave some happiness for the rest of us

yourusername

liked by 97,839 others

yourusername yes, we know you all knew this but let us have this moment please

username1 oh my god what a shock 🙄

username2 how will we ever get over this news🙄

username3 how could they have deceived us for so long

username4 nah i can’t even pretend like this is breaking news.

yourusername I knew it was a rumor but I wasn’t expecting everyone to know 😀

landonorris I always thought we were kind of discreet about it…

username5 are you kidding? It would be less obvious if you guys held up signs that said “we are in love”