#thank you for following me through all of my mess!
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bsf!matt makes reader demonstrate what she learned away in college.
contains: smut (no p in v), oral (male receiving), bigdick!matt, pet names, suggestive language.
note: my gift to you guys, merry christmas eve. thank you so much for 500 followers, it means a lot to me :)
“such a naughty girl you are, bunny.” matt muttered, caressing your cheek as you looked up at him through those big round eyes of yours, filled with need and desperation. the two of you hadn't seen each other since summer, with him living in los angeles and you going to college. now on christmas break, your best friend had you on your knees, your face resting against his thigh.
“so eager to show me what you learned, huh? go on then, baby, take my dick out.” he cooed, grinning as your hands made a beeline toward his zipper. you pulled down his jeans, kitty licking his cock through the remaining fabric. matt grunted, tugging on a fistful of your hair, “you like bein’ a tease? be a good girl, or you ain’t gettin’ my cock.”
you giggled, hooking your manicured nails into the waistband of his boxers, dragging it down to meet the denim fabric pooled around his ankles. “good. knew you could be such an obedient girl.”
your mouth drooled at the sight of his veiny cock; it was angry, glistening with precum on his pink tip—he was also super lengthy, something a few college boys lacked. chewing on your plush lip, you wrapped a hand around him, stroking him at a slow pace. “never seen a big dick, bunny? at all?” he mocked almost like he can see the wheels turning in your pretty head, grinning from ear to ear. “well, lucky me, glad to be your first.”
“s'okay, baby… jus' show me what else you do after this step," he said, running a hand down your hair, a small groan leaving his lips as you kissed his tip, swirling around his precum with your tongue.
your innocent gaze flicked up towards him as you wrapped your glossed lips around his shaft, taking him inch by inch. you bobbed your head, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked him. slurping his dick, your chin was covered with your saliva, dripping down onto the floor.
ecstatic pleasure was written all over his face, making your pussy ache with need and attention. he reached forward, gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail and following your rhythm. “y’always get this messy, rabbit? or is it because i can’t fit, hm?”
his dirty talk had your panties drenched; both of your hands were occupied. one was stroking what couldn't fit, and the other went to his heavy balls, massaging the skin. “you’re such a bad girl, bun. y'gonna make your best friend cum in your mouth.”
matt’s cock twitched as you glanced up at him through your sticky lashes. he tugged on your hair, face-fucking you as he used your mouth to get himself off. “shiiit, baby.”
his hips bucked forward as he painted your throat with his cum, groaning as he felt you choking on his size. taking his cock out, your cheeks were stained with dripping mascara. he smirked as he saw the drooling mess your chin was.
matt chuckled as he wiped your teary eyes. “m' gonna have fun using you, rabbit.”
© 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗌𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗍
#𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐬𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐭© ˚ ༘ ೀ#𝗺.𝘀 ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo prompt#matt sturniolo drabble#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut#sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets#sturn tumblr#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo
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♡ Where's My Chocolate?! | LN4
Summary: Where Lando has a massive chocolate addiction but his trainer put a ban on it. How's a man supposed to live without his Kinder Joys? or his Kinder Maxis? or his Kinder Eggs? or his-
LANDO NORRIS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
Lando was practically vibrating with excitement as he unlocked the door to his flat. It was the off-season, the glorious time when he could finally eat what he wanted without Jon breathing down his neck about "his unhealthy eating habits" and "lack of diet discipline." The crown jewel of his freedom? The stash of Kinder chocolates meticulously hoarded over the year.
He burst into the kitchen, opened his sacred candy drawer, and froze. The drawer was half-empty. Half-empty.
Lando stared in disbelief, his hands gripping the edge of the counter like he was about to faint. He began rifling through the contents, counting and recounting the chocolates as though they’d magically multiply.
"Babe!" he yelled, his voice cracking. "Where’s my chocolate?"
Y/n strolled into the kitchen, holding a cup of tea, completely unfazed by the brewing storm. "Hi to you too, Lando."
He spun around, clutching a Kinder Maxi like a lifeline. "Don’t ‘hi’ me. My stash is gone. Did you—" He gasped dramatically. "Did you eat it?"
She blinked at him. "What? No!"
"Then who? The Easter Bunny?" he shrieked. "It was full last week!"
Sipping her tea, she said casually, "Oh, Jon called."
Lando’s face went pale. "Jon? My trainer, Jon?"
"Yep," she said, setting her mug down. "He told me to keep an eye on your candy consumption. Said something about ‘self-control’ and ‘preventing cavities.’ Apparently, you have a chocolate limit now."
Lando stared at her like she’d just betrayed him in the worst way possible. "You’re lying."
She shrugged. "Suit yourself."
"No," he said, his voice rising to a dramatic wail. "You can’t do this to me! I’ve been waiting all year for this! This is my moment!"
"Your moment?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Lando, it’s just chocolate."
"It’s not just chocolate! It’s freedom! It’s happiness!" He dropped to his knees, clutching a Kinder Egg like it was a dying bird. "This is cruel and unusual punishment!"
"Alright, Shakespeare," she said, stepping over him to close the drawer. "Get up. You’re not a toddler."
But Lando’s resolve was already solidifying. He wouldn’t be defeated so easily.
That night, Y/n woke to the sound of faint rustling. Bleary-eyed, she reached over for Lando, only to find his side of the bed empty. Squinting in the dim light, she followed the noise to the kitchen.
There he was, crouched in front of the candy drawer like some sort of gremlin, surrounded by half-opened drawers and cabinets. He was whispering to himself, "Where is it? Where did she put it?"
"Lando," she said, crossing her arms.
He froze, slowly turning his head to look at her. His eyes were wide and wild, his hair sticking up in all directions. "Oh. Hey. Fancy seeing you here."
She pointed at the mess around him. "What are you doing?"
"Uh, night yoga?"
"Yoga," she repeated flatly.
"Yeah, it’s great for flexibility," he said, attempting a stretch that ended with him knocking over a jar of flour.
"Get back to bed, Lando," she said, grabbing him by the arm.
The next day, Lando devised Plan B. He called Oscar.
"Mate, you have to help me," Lando whispered into the phone like a spy in enemy territory.
"What now?" Oscar asked, already regretting picking up.
"She’s hidden my chocolates. All of them. I’m dying here."
"And what do you want me to do about it?"
"Smuggle some Kinder Eggs to me. Discreetly."
Oscar sighed. "Absolutely not. She’ll kill me."
"Oscar, please! I’m losing my mind, mate!"
"And I’d like to live, thanks."
Lando groaned, hanging up dramatically.
The coup de grâce happened at Max and Kelly’s house. They had invited them both over for lunch, and for a brief moment, everything was going fine. That is, until Penelope came running into the room, tears streaming down her face.
"Uncle Lala stole my chocolates!" she wailed.
All heads turned to the pantry, where Lando was caught red-handed, stuffing his face with what was unmistakably Penelope’s stash. His cheeks bulged like a hamster’s, and he froze mid-bite when he saw everyone staring.
"Lando," Max said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That’s for my kid."
"I’m...uh...testing for poison?" Lando offered, his words muffled by chocolate. He was already edging toward the door, trying to shield his loot from view.
"Seriously?" Y/n said, marching over, her voice a mix of frustration and disbelief. "You’re stealing from a child?"
Lando clutched the Kinder Joys tighter, his eyes darting around the room like he was calculating an escape route. "You don’t get it! These chocolates—" he paused, clutching the candy dramatically to his chest, "—are essential. I need them more than Penelope does."
She threw her hands up in exasperation. "You’re a grown man, Lando! Have some self-control for once."
"Uncle Lala should go to jail for stealing my chocolates!" Penelope said with all the righteous fury of a five-year-old, pointing an accusing finger at Lando.
"If loving chocolate is a crime, then lock me up!" he declared, crouching lower and hissing dramatically at anyone who dared approach him.
"Oh my god," Max groaned, rubbing his temples. "I can’t believe I’m witnessing this."
Kelly crossed her arms, glaring at Lando. "You’re eating a five-year-old’s Christmas stash, Lando. Have you no shame?"
Penelope, who had been standing quietly until now, stomped her tiny foot. "Uncle Lala, give it back! Mommy says stealing is bad!"
Lando froze, looking genuinely wounded. "I’m not stealing," he said earnestly. "I’m redistributing the wealth." He paused, then added with a whisper, "For the greater good."
Max raised an eyebrow. "You’ve lost your mind. Put the chocolates down."
"Never!" Lando shouted, clutching the stash tighter and attempting to back into the pantry.
"Uncle Lala!" Penelope shrieked, rushing forward to tug on his arm. "You’re a meanie!"
"Lando," Kelly said, exasperated, "Give P her chocolates back please"
"I can’t!" Lando wailed dramatically, holding up an empty wrapper like it was his salvation. "I’ve been oppressed for weeks. Weeks! Do you know what it’s like to have Jon ruin your life?"
"I’m going to call Jon," she threatened, pulling out her phone.
"No! Not Jon!" Lando cried, dropping to his knees and scrambling to hide behind Max. "Anything but that! Please, I’ll do anything! I’ll eat kale. I’ll run an extra five miles tomorrow. Just don’t call Jon!"
Max stared down at him, torn between amusement and second-hand embarrassment. "Lando, mate, I think you’ve hit rock bottom."
Lando peeked out from behind Max’s legs, his chocolate-smeared face a picture of desperation. "This isn’t rock bottom. Rock bottom is no chocolate at all."
Penelope crossed her arms, looking unimpressed. "Uncle Lala, you’re being very silly."
"You’re right," Kelly said, scooping up Penelope. "Lando, apologize to my daughter and step away from the pantry."
He clutched one last Kinder Joy, giving it a sorrowful look. "I’m sorry, P. But you’ll understand one day. Love makes you do crazy things." He kissed the chocolate dramatically before surrendering it to Kelly.
The lowest point came a few nights later when she woke to Lando’s sleep-talking.
"Kinder Maxi...so creamy...so sweet..." he mumbled, drooling onto his pillow.
She stared at him, half amused, half exasperated.
By Christmas, she couldn’t take it anymore. The sight of Lando moping around the house like a sad puppy had broken her resolve. So, on Christmas morning, she led him to the kitchen, where a decadent chocolate cake sat waiting on the counter, accompanied by a wicker basket brimming with his favorite chocolates—Kinder Maxis, Kinder Eggs, and everything else she could get her hands on.
Lando froze in the doorway, his eyes wide as they darted from her to the cake. "What’s this?" he asked, his voice tinged with awe.
"Merry Christmas," she said, her smile soft but brimming with excitement. "It’s all for you."
His gaze flickered between her and the cake, his expression shifting from disbelief to pure, unfiltered joy. "You… you did this? For me?"
She nodded, and his lips parted slightly, his eyes shimmering as if he might actually cry. "You’re the best girlfriend ever," he choked out before pulling her into a bone-crushing hug, his arms wrapping around her as he swiped some of the chocolate frosting.
She laughed against his shoulder, the warmth of his embrace making her cheeks flush. "Do you love me more than chocolate now?" she teased, her voice light and playful.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, his face alight with a cheeky grin. "That’s debatable," he said, dragging the words out as if he were seriously contemplating it.
Her eyes narrowed in mock offense as she gasped and pretended to reach for the cake. "Fine, I’ll just eat this myself—"
"No!" he yelped, grabbing her waist before she could step away. With a quick, smooth motion, he spun her around, his laughter filling the kitchen. "Okay, okay! I love you more."
She tilted her head, her lips quirking upward. "Prove it," she challenged, her voice daring but soft.
For a moment, the world seemed to pause. Lando’s grin faded, replaced by an expression so earnest it made her heart skip a beat. He stepped closer, his hands sliding up from her waist to cradle her face gently. His thumbs brushed against her cheekbones as he leaned in, his gaze locking with hers.
When his lips finally met hers, it was like warmth spreading through her veins. The kiss started tender, his lips soft and lingering as if he were savoring the moment. But then he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and the tenderness gave way to something more fervent. His hands moved to her hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he pulled her closer, pressing their bodies together until there was no space left between them.
Her hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his sweatshirt as she melted into him. She could feel his heart beating rapidly under her palm, matching the rhythm of her own. The faint taste of chocolate lingered on his lips, making the kiss feel all the more intoxicating.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to steady themselves. Her cheeks were flushed, and Lando’s eyes sparkled with a mix of giddiness and something deeper.
"Alright, you win," she said, laughing softly as she looked up at him. Her voice was teasing, but her eyes held a warmth that mirrored his own.
Lando grinned, his dimples making an appearance as he leaned in to peck her lips again, quick and sweet. "How did you get Jon to agree to this?" he asked, his voice still slightly breathless as he glanced toward the cake.
She smirked, stepping back to grab a fork from the counter. "What Jon doesn’t know won’t hurt him."
His laughter was loud and unrestrained, echoing through the kitchen. "You rebel. I love it."
She handed him the fork, watching as he eagerly sliced into the cake. "Keep up with your training," she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter, "and I might sneak you some chocolates now and then."
"Deal," he said, shoving a forkful of cake into his mouth with a contented hum. He closed his eyes, savoring the taste before looking at her with a wide, chocolate-smeared smile. "Best Christmas ever."
#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando x reader#lando x y/n#ln4 x reader#ln4 x y/n#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 social media au#f1 imagine#f1 smau#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x y/n#ln4 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#formula one x reader#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#f1 x oc#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula one x oc#formula 1 fic#f1 one shot
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leaving tons of kiss marks ( like lipstick) on s2ep7 silcos face w/o him noticing
stain me 💋
authors note: this is my first ask, thank you so much for sending one in! this is more on the shorter side then what i typically write but your ask felt like it needed something short and sweet and so here we are. i enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoy reading it!! i couldn’t find a screen cap or gif of him from that specific episode but i hope this is ok! fluffy, flirty, suggestive masterlist
You couldn’t resist sometimes. Silco, with his sharp features and ever-serious demeanor, made it impossible not to mess with him just a little. There was something endlessly satisfying about breaking through that impenetrable façade, even momentarily. This time, you had the perfect idea.
It started one evening as you sat perched on the arm of his chair, watching him pour over reports. His mismatched eyes scanned the pages with sharp intensity, the faint flicker of irritation crossing his face now and then. Likely, some underling had failed to meet his expectations���again.
Leaning closer, you pressed a kiss to his temple, a playful distraction from his relentless focus. He didn’t even flinch, still absorbed in his work. “Busy as always,” you murmured, brushing your lips over his jawline next.
“Distracting me again?” he muttered, his voice low and laced with faint amusement.
“No,” you replied innocently, pressing another kiss, this time to the corner of his lips. “Just appreciating you.”
Your grin widened as faint outlines of your lipstick smudged across his pale skin. He didn’t notice. Another kiss followed, just below his ear, then one on his cheek, then another—and another. You were in his lap now, his arm resting absentmindedly around your waist as you peppered kisses across his face. Silco didn’t mind one bit, continuing to work as best he could despite you all over him.
Before long, his features were a patchwork of lipstick marks, each one bolder than the last. By the time you were done, he looked as if he’d been ambushed by a lovesick artist. Yet Silco, ever the picture of calm precision, remained blissfully unaware, tightening his hold on you and interpreting your soft kisses as quiet encouragement to keep working.
The real payoff came later when Sevika entered the office, knocking twice before being told to enter.
“Silco, about that shipment—” she started but stopped short, her usual stoic demeanor cracking as her mouth twitched into a smirk. “What the hell happened to your face?”
Silco looked up from his desk, unamused. “Elaborate.”
“You’ve got more lipstick on your face than a bordello mirror,” Sevika remarked, before raising her hands in mock surrender as Silco shot her a sharp look. With a wry chuckle, she gave a small shrug and closed the door behind her, leaving you alone with him once more.
You couldn’t hold back the laughter that bubbled out of you. Silco’s hand finally moved to his face, realization dawning. Untangling himself from you, he stood abruptly and strode to the small mirror on the wall. His expression shifted from confusion to a rare blend of exasperation and faint amusement.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” he said, his tone sharp as he turned to you. But the faint twitch of his lips betrayed him.
“I think you look great,” you teased, stepping forward to adjust his tie as if nothing were amiss. And he did—Silco was already devastatingly handsome, but the smudges of your red lips on his face stirred something inside of you.
He grabbed your wrists gently, guiding your hands to his shoulders as his own settled at your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re lucky I tolerate your antics,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly.
“Tolerate?” you echoed with mock offense, looking up at him through your lashes. “I thought you loved my antics.”
Silco let out a low, velvet chuckle that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. “What am I going to with you,” he hummed.
Still in his hold, he eased you backwards until the edge of the desk pressed into your backside. Then, with calculated precision, Silco returned the favor, planting kisses across your face, each one soft and deliberate. You couldn’t stop giggling and squirming in his grasp.
After a final feather-light kiss on your lips—just enough to stain your rouge onto him—he pulled back slightly, admiring the way your cheeks flushed with warmth. You looked radiant.
And without warning, he lifted you, settling you onto the desk so that he was positioned between your legs. A playful smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned in, his hands firmly gripping your thighs. “Now,” he murmured, teasing. “Where else would you care to stain me?”
i wrote this in a bit of a rush because it iss 3 am !! comments and reblogs are very much appreciated, cheers x
#arcane#arcane fanfic#silco#arcane silco#silco x you#silco x reader#silco fanfic#anon ask#arcane x you#arcane x reader#kiss your workaholic husband#kiss him now#suggestive#arcane fluff
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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.
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Well, reader and Jinx matching rings (maybe even wedding rings), and when Caitlin shoots Jinx's finger, she destroys this ring. Jinx’s honest reaction?
of course! thank you for the request <3
i decided to make them promise rings since she lost her middle finger. i hope that’s alright!
summary; jinx’s promise ring being destroyed, and fem!reader comforting her after the fact.
characters included; jinx
tags/warnings; fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of war/combat, mentions of poor mental health, medical talk ig? (patching up), s2 spoilers
men dni.
you’re sat in jinx’s hideout watching her tinker away with… something. a new type of explosive she’s experimenting with, she says. something that only requires one hexcrystal instead of two or three, since she can’t keep using so many. she’s unceremoniously hunched over the workbench, goggles over her eyes as she messes with the piece of scrap metal in her hand.
“having fun?”
you ask, sitting back in the chair she got you.
“mm… this is more difficult than i thought it would be. who knew this could be so challenging? but i like a challenge.”
she smirks to herself, not taking her eyes off of her project.
“well, you’ve never let ‘difficult’ stop you. you’re a right genius.”
“oh, stop. you’re biased!”
she teases, but she’s got the lightest rouge dusting her cheeks. got her. your gaze continues to follow your girlfriend, the way she moves so freely and carelessly. getting her face impossibly close to power tools, using her nails to clean up dirt, teeth capturing her bottom lip when she’s particularly stumped.
“alright! that’s enough for right now.”
she proclaims, standing up and placing her hands on her hips.
“already?” it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes since you asked her how she was doing.
“yeah! besides, i’ve got something for ‘ya.”
jinx springs up from her seat and skitters over to yours, quickly turning it around. you hear cheerful humming from behind you as she shuffles through piles of belongings, clearly looking for something.
"a-ha!"
she spins you back around, both hands on your seat and quickly rises. she's got something clasped in her left hand, but won't reveal it, not yet.
"what's that?"
"you have to be patient, toots! i've got a speech prepared, don't distract me!"
a speech? jinx never gave speeches. was she breaking up with you? so many thoughts began swirling through your mind as your palms began to sweat, gripping the chair- and then jinx revealed what she was hiding. a wooden box. a... ring box?
"isn't it a little soon to be getting engaged, jinx?"
you chuckle dryly, looking up at your girlfriend. she playfully rolls her eyes, and shakes her head, blue bang swaying.
"yes it is, that's why we're not getting engaged."
she clears her throat.
"not yet."
she turns her attention back to the box, and she opens it. inside lays a thick silver ring, with a circular blue gem in the middle. it looked eerily similar to a hexcrystal- but carved into a gemstone. 'JINX' is shakily engraved on the inside, something she undoubtedly did herself.
"this is a promise ring. i've been working on it for a while, and well... it's kind of stupid." she looks off to the side, sheepishly. "but this is me promising myself to you. to show you that i'm serious about this, ya know?"
you look over the ring for a moment, taking it in for all that it is. it's obviously unprofessional, the metal is a bit dull, and the shape isn't precise. but god dammit if it isn't the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. you glance back to your girlfriend, noticing her observing you- likely for any signs of disapproval. poor girl. as much as jinx had improved since meeting you, she still had the habit of expecting the worst. you didn't think that part would ever go away.
"jinx, it's beautiful. i- you made this?"
you ask, your eyes flickering back to the ring she's holding out. noticing how her grip is becoming a bit less stable.
"with my own two hands."
you chuckle, giving her a little grin.
"well? come on, put it on."
jinx doesn't need to be told twice. she gently takes hold of your left hand, removing the ring from the box and slowly slipping it onto your finger.
"there! it's on your middle finger, so your ring finger is open for the real thing."
not an ‘i do,’ but an ‘i will.’
you hold your hand up to the light, admiring how the ring catches it, before leaning forward to press a flurry of kisses to jinx's face.
"ah- hey! stop, you goof!"
she laughs, arms coming to wrap around you as a fit of giggles erupts from her.
"nope! i get to do this!"
it's not a week later when you arrive to jinx's hideout with a promise ring of your own to give her. a thick gold band to contrast the silver jinx had given you, with a rose quartz to accompany your own hexcrystal. pink and blue… she had a theme going, didn't she?
it wasn't handmade, but held the same sentimental value. you weren't as handy as jinx, and you'd learned to accept that a while ago. you had strengths in other areas, one of them being finding perfect gifts. it didn't take you long to find a jeweler in piltover who had exactly what you needed.
"oh, my god- you didn't have to do this."
she gasps, rosy eyes blown wide. both hands are on her cheeks as jinx gently approaches the open box in your hand.
"you promised yourself to me, didn't you? this is my promise to you."
jinx lets you put the ring onto her own left middle finger, her eyes never leaving your face. watching you so intently, she can feel her heart fluttering in her chest. what did she do to deserve you exactly? she could never quite figure it out, but that doesn't matter right now. you glance back up at her, a little smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
"i… you're too good to me, toots. really."
"i am not. i love you, remember?"
"mm… i love you too. i still think you're too good to me, though."
you let out a low chuckle.
"c'mere."
you bring the girl into your arms, tilting her chin with your index finger to gently bring her closer to you. pressing your lips to hers in a slow, gentle kiss.
oh- and of course, your name is engraved on the inside of the ring.
✧.*
you're posted at your girlfriend's hideout, going over notes in preparation for an exam. it's nerve wracking, sure, but the odd tranquility of jinx's desk is useful in its own way.
jinx swings open the door to the hideout, and as soon as she steps onto the panel of the wind turbine supporting her hideout, you can tell she's in hysterics.
the girl is wailing. she's pacing back and forth, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. but most importantly, her hand is gushing blood. you immediately drop your notes, papers scattering across the desk to rush over to your girlfriend.
"jinx? jinx?! what the hell happened, oh my god..."
you kneel down in front of jinx, taking her hand to examine it. her middle left finger is completely gone, blood rushing out from the wound. it seems to be a clean cut, at least, you won't have to deal with any extra bits to clean up.
"the ring, the ring, it's gone-"
she sobs, a hiccup following and her free hand clenching into a fist at her side. you gasp, looking up at jinx, then back down at her finger.
"jinx, seriously? you just lost your finger and you're worried about a damn ring?!"
you breathe out, exasperation and worry weighing heavy on your voice.
"the ring is important! it's- it's our promise!"
she cries, hanging her head low. jinx is so ashamed, it hurts your heart to see. you let go of her hand and frantically sweep along her workbench for anything. you knew you had a first aid kit somewhere, you'd gotten it after seeing jinx patch herself up in a way that would make any doctor shiver. but god damn it, where was it?
there.
you quickly swipe the kit and a bottle of peroxide from her workbench, rushing back over to jinx. you take one of her wrists and quickly guide her over to her beaten-up couch.
"sit."
"but-"
"sit."
jinx huffs and sits down on the couch, you sitting down beside her. you open the kit and bottle, pouring peroxide onto a cotton square and taking her hand into your lap.
"this is going to sting. a lot."
jinx winces at just the thought, but nods slowly. keeping her eyes on what you're doing-
"agh- fuck!"
she yelps, tossing her head back as you press the square to the wound, holding it there to both disinfect and stop the bleeding.
"i'm sorry, baby, it'll be over soon. i just need to stop the bleeding."
you coo, trying to do anything in your power to calm her down. yet it's obvious the injury itself isn't what she's upset about.
"that- that fucker vi is with shot it off, she shot the ring off..."
jinx seethes through gritted teeth, trying to keep her composure as you hold the peroxide to her wound. ah.. that makes sense. caitlyn was never fond of jinx, especially after the stunt she pulled with the council room. part of you was simply grateful that she didn't just take jinx out, as much as you knew she was probably trying to.
jinx was always putting herself in so much danger, both for the sake of necessity and the fact her ego was just so damn inflated. she said it herself- she just can't seem to die. but she got impossibly close way more than you would've liked her to.
you take out a roll of gauze and begin to wrap it around her hand, the wound being in the center of it all. it's far from professional, but this will have to do until you can get her proper medical attention. which you were trying to avoid talking about, since jinx was the last person to ever admit she needed help.
"jinx, i'm just happy that you're alive. i don't care about the ring right now. what if she had shot you somewhere more... vital?"
"then i would've gotten to keep the ring."
god damn it. she could not be serious right now. you finish wrapping her hand, bleeding having come to a halt and wound disinfected. you'd grab some painkillers in a moment. you quickly take both of her cheeks in your hands, forcing her to look you directly in the eye. the cold metal of your own ring against soft skin.
"jinx. again, i'm happy that you're here, and you're alive, and losing your finger was the worst thing that happened. i will get you a new ring, first thing tomorrow. okay?"
she sighs, her lips coming into a slight pout. at the very least, she's not crying anymore.
"but..."
you press your index finger to her lips, shushing her.
"no. just because you don't have the ring anymore doesn't mean the promise went out the window, okay?" you whisper, brushing your lips against her forehead. "i still love you, and still have promised myself to you. that won't change.
jinx closes her eyes, and leans into your kiss. she seems to have finally resigned, and is snaking her arms around your waist.
"i just- i love you so much..."
"i know, baby. i love you too, which is why i'll get you a new ring. a better one, even."
your hand still cupping her face, you lean in to press a chaste kiss to her lips.
"just stay here, with me. you've had a hell of a day."
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Can you do an Oscar Piastri x Male reader fluff? Like where the reader just plays with Oscar, running his hands in his hair, laying of top of him, sitting on his lap, holding his hand etc. love you work, thank youu
Oscar Piastri x Male Reader
Whimsy
I was thinking of writing a story like this already, thanks for the request.
(Requests are open)
Cheers!
"Oooossscc?"
I hear that all too familiar voice.
"On the couch."
I replied, a few moments later I see him walking out from the kitchen, he held a tray with a plate of nachos and some sauces.
"I tried to make some homemade dips, can you try them for me?"
I sat up as he placed the tray on the coffee table and sat on my lap.
"Well, this will be a bit difficult with you on me."
I said as I pulled him down with me and hugged him tight while giving him soft kisses on his neck.
"Stop, just eat iiit."
He complained as he struggled to get out of my hold.
"You burnt the chips, Y/n, the dips will taste like burnt chip."
I laid my head on the arm of the couch.
"Use your finger or something."
"I haven't watched my hands yet, and I've just been here all day, laying down while I wait for you."
"Disgusting, just wash your hands."
He rolled around so now we were chest to chest.
"Hi."
I smiled as I whispered.
"Hello."
His hands went to my face, and slowly squished my face.
"Are you going to stop?"
I mumbled out.
"You're handsome."
I smiled.
"I know."
He squished my cheeks so my lips were puckered and he went down to kiss me. My hands went up from his sides to his hands that was on my face, I removed his hands so I could move better. He let out little moans when my hand wrapped around his neck pulling him closer, the other was grasping his waist tight. His hand rested on my chest, moments later he pulled back, breathing heavily.
We stared at each other, our eyes searching for something in each other, something that could make this moment better. I see a hint of mischief in his eyes as he sits on my stomach.
"Shit."
I said as the air was pushed out of me.
"As much as I love you, I need to breathe, little moon."
"Just a moment."
He started to mess with my hair.
"Not the hair."
I feigned annoyance, my hands rested on his hips. A few moments later he stopped.
"What did you do?"
I said as I reach for my phone that was somewhere beside me on the couch. He handed me his phone.
I looked at myself as I opened his camera. My hair was a messy, I have bangs, most of my hair is going to my forehead.
"This is actually not that bad, is this how you prefer my hair to be, Y/n?"
I held his waist as I smiled at him.
"Yes."
He said as he laid down on top of me again.
"I can breathe better now I guess."
I ran my fingers through his hair. His hands held my other hand, following the veins with his finger, tracing the wrinkles on my palm. I looked down at him, enjoying the moment we are having. A few minutes later, his interest on my hand was gone. He looked up at me, his chin resting on my chest.
"You touching my teeth is weird you know."
I said as I knew what he was planning.
"But your front teeth, they look cute, they make you look like a bunny."
"It's still weird."
His hands slowly travelled up my body and onto my cheeks.
"Are you goin to stop me?"
I shook my head no and smiled at him, his thumb went to my two front upper teeth, feeling the shape and the ridges. He looked like a child, the shine in his eyes and the curiousity flowing out of him as he somewhat played with my teeth.
"They look cute."
He said as he removed his thumb from my mouth, I held his hands.
"I know, and you are a weirdo."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes you are."
I played with him, I held his hands gently as I looked at him, played with him as you would with a baby.
"No."
He buried his face in my chest.
"Your nachos and dips are still here you know."
I reminded him as I played with his hair.
"I'm tired."
He mumbled out.
"Then sleep, the chips can wait, you can rest here and I will keep you safe."
I kissed the top of his head as I wrapped my arms around him, and he wraps his around me.
"Goodnight, Osc."
"It's 1pm, Y/n, but goodnight."
#x male reader#x reader#y/n#gay#f1 x male reader#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 x male reader#formula 1 x reader#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri x male reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you
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Holidays with Ghouls (Sho Haizono x Reader; Tokyo Debunker)
please read:
okay. big news + life update: i got into a major car accident a little while ago. my first one ever! i am in a lot of pain so things may be slow-going for a while and ill be unable to commit as much time to writing due to the tangled mess that is dealing with modern insurance companies and recovering from my injuries. thankfully its not so bad to be hospitalized, but its bad enough to limit my activity for the time being. i am somewhat ashamed to ask, but if you like my writing, please consider donating to my cashapp: $cindyfromstarbucks! my car was 100% totaled, and im gonna need to save up for a new one, and my job doesn’t pay very much. thank you for your consideration! please enjoy, regardless! (this paragraph will be on my posts indefinitely, probably until i fully recover)
a/n: LET ME START THIS OFF BY SAYING IT’S ENTIRELY SELF-INDULGENT… i have a green thumb and i’ve been growing a small garden lately (limited space. i hate captialism.) and i just thought “hm. what if we grew fresh ingredients for sho’s food truck?” and the idea stuck and didn’t leave no matter how much i tried 2 shake it off. mc is basically written as me im not gonna hold y’all, but i kept it 2 a minimum so it could still be an ‘x reader’.
summary: self-indulgent reader x sho. in which you do something nice for him and he struggles to return the favor.
no cw! enjoy!
big fan of the “woman that is so wound up all the time and extremely professional and tries to keep everyone at arm’s length distance” x “guy that is only a few years younger than the woman but loves calling her by age-appropriate honorifics (i.e. noona, ojou, jiejie, madame, etc) and goes out of his way to teach her how to fucking relax every once in a while” trope and essentially if i were with sho that is how the relationship would go LMFAOOOOOOO
You used to have a bit of a garden before becoming a student at Darkwick. A part of you often wondered if there were people tending to your garden now so you could return to it, well kept and exactly as you remember it, when you were cured of this curse and got this anomalous ring off of you. You'd never really had the idea to plant anything here; you were much too focused on missions and other incessant errands the ghouls saw fit to send you on. You didn't like it, but held your tongue regardless. If all went well, you wouldn't have to deal with this after less than a year.
You were fond of a few ghouls, though. Some of them were a nice reprieve from the other harsher and more selfish ghouls. Haku was a great example of that, and so was Subaru, his dorm's captain. You'd grown fond on the Jabberwock ghouls, as they were always kind and polite. You didn't really mind the Obscuary ghouls, either. Even if odd, they were good natured, and never turned you away. You appreciated that Rui had a bit of a green thumb too, and would often stop by to assist him with plant care.
The one ghoul you were the most fond of, despite his less than agreeable best friend, was Haizono, or Sho, as he insisted on being called. Sho, despite his friend Leo, was actually pretty friendly. You enjoyed the time you spent around him, whether that was collecting supplies from the diner, or training with him, or even helping him meal prep for the following day for his food truck. It was fun, spending time with Sho. You're almost angry the idea didn't dawn on you sooner.
Said idea is why you carefully sift through the dirt in your compost container, careful not to split any of the worms with your nails. The potatoes should be done growing by now. The idea had dawned on you one day when Sho mentioned not having enough potatoes to serve fries the following day. Potatoes were an easy crop. And they took three months, at most, to grow. Sure, if worse came to worst, you'd die, but growing potatoes was a good distraction and encouraged you to plan for the future, as though you wouldn't die. After a few favors from Benji and some begging towards the chancellor, you had a small garden behind the chapel. Granted, you'd just started it three months ago, so it wasn't as full as your garden back home, but it was good enough. It was hidden from the rest of campus by the surrounding trees, ensuring no one would find the garden unless they had reason to cut around the chapel, which wasn't necessary considering the path out front. Not only did it serve as your little place of respite, it allowed you to do nice things for others. You were just growing potatoes for now, but it felt like enough of a starter, at least. You’d just planted some tomato seeds that you’d hoped Sho would also find a use for.
Once done harvesting a substantial batch of potatoes, you wrap them up in plastic bags to look like you bought them. It would save you the embarrassment of having to explain that you’d grown them yourself.
It’s pleasantly chilly outside, the still afternoon air heavy with promises of cold weather and a white winter holiday. Dirt remained underneath your fingernails from all that harvesting, but it was a small price to pay. Your heart pounded with anticipation and exertion as you made the trek to Vagastrom, heading for the nearby food truck. As expected, you find Sho sitting on one of his supply boxes, far underdressed for the cold weather. You can’t tell if he’s resistant to it or rebelling against it, but you can tell he’s cold. His cheeks and nose are tinged red and his eyes are squinted against the cold wind. You can even tell he’s sniffling with how often he inhales. You exhale both fondly and exasperatedly. The stubbornness of these ghouls was simultaneously attractive and irritating.
You make it no secret you’re approaching, the bag of potatoes crinkling with your upbeat steps and your own runny nose sniffling in response to the cold wind. You place the bag of potatoes beside him with a heavy ‘thud’, to which he finally looks up, appearing jolted out of his thoughts.
“Here,” you start, taking your scarf from around your neck and tying it around his without waiting for a reaction. “You must be an idiot to sit out in the cold with just your uniform on.”
“Senpai.” He greets you with wide eyes, watching but not protesting as you tie your scarf around his neck. He appears confused at first, his lips pursing at your actions, but seems to relent as he buries his face into the scarf. You watch as he settles into it, his eyes sliding shut against the cold wind, his nose and lips finding warm solace in the comfort of your scarf. Before long, he pulls it away, revealing himself back to the chilly air with a slight wince. “...No need. Thank you, though.” He glances up at you with a smile before rising to his feet and dusting off his knees. “Whatcha got here?” He gestures to the plastic bag before picking it up, far more effortlessly than you, and inspecting it.
“Potatoes.” Your breath puffs out in a white cloud. “They’re for your food truck. I remembered you mentioned you were running low, so… I decided to help and buy you some.” At some point, you’d shifted your attention to the ground, toeing at a rock as you realized how ridiculous that sounded. Surely Sho could handle himself. He might even find your help embarrassing, when you really think about it.
You sneak a glance at him and are relieved to see a small smile on his face as he observes the potatoes. He huffs out a light breath, his face visibly softening. “You didn’t have to do that.” He slings the bag over his shoulder, using his other hand to ruffle your hair and return the scarf. “Come on,” he turns around, headed for the door of the food truck. “You can help me prep.”
‘That’s only helpful if you’ll have any customers in this cold,’ you think to yourself, but decide not to say aloud. Instead, you watch the slow smile on his face as he nods towards you, and continues towards the truck. Crazy, how a simple glance of his could make your heart race. Something about the warmth of his smile, the feel of his fingers carding through your hair, and the leftover scent of his cologne lingering on your scarf tugged at your heart, just a little bit.
You briskly follow after him, throwing the scarf back over his neck. “Keep it,” you say sternly, watching as he turns to you quizzically. “Have you seen the state of yourself in this cold?” The phrase ‘I want you to have it,’ lingers on your tongue, but you decide not to voice that, instead letting a small amused smile rest on your face. You vaguely gesture to him, your gaze flicking to his red cheeks and nose. He rolls his eyes, noting your point, and keeps the scarf around his neck, opening the side door to his food truck.
“Alright, fine. I’ll wash it and return it.”
As he steps inside the food truck, even from standing behind him you feel a wave of warmth. You follow, stepping inside, feeling the sweet relief of pleasant warm air and smelling the scent of roast chicken. The environment is warm and cozy, wrapping around you like a cushy blanket or a hug from a loved one. Sho closes the door behind you and you note your scarf is still around his neck. Something clicks.
“Wait a minute. You won’t need that.” You point to his scarf, your nose crinkling in mock displeasure. He instinctively flinches away, looking at you with a raised brow. He was seemingly already protective of your scarf, even though he’d only just received it. “Hand it over.”
“That’s hardly fair.” A crooked smile forms on Sho’s face and his brow raises higher. “Why do you assume I won’t need it?”
Indignantly, you gesture to the warm space surrounding you. Sizzling meat, a warm oven, and heaters in a corner, adjusting the temperature of the truck. “Vagastrom is literally right next to here. What do you need that for?”
He doesn’t answer directly, instead tilting his head at you. “I seem to remember a certain someone insisting I keep this scarf. Are you going to go back on your word?”
You clamp your mouth shut, remembering what you’d said and did earlier. He was right, you had insisted, even if only a little. You huff out a frustrated breath, crossing your arms and furrowing your brows. He laughs at your display, pulling the scarf off of him and tossing it on a high shelf of boxes you couldn’t reach. “Like I said, I’ll wash it and return it.”
You decide to swallow this loss. You had other scarves at the chapel anyway, and if he was going to use it, at least it wasn’t going to waste.
You look around the space again before taking off your coat and hanging it on one of the hooks on the door. “Any plans for winter break? Will you be going anywhere?”
“Nah.” Sho shook his head, checking on the chicken in the small oven before continuing to stir fry a vegetable medley on the stove, jutting his shoulder out towards the cutting board, covered in various vegetables. You wash your hands before heading over, carefully scraping at the dirt built up under your fingernails from digging. “Unless my… brother… goes, I’m not going. He’ll beat my ass if I don’t and he does.” A look of displeasure crosses Sho’s face, and you have to hold back a laugh at the thought of Professor Hyde chastising Sho for not seeing his family over break.
You head over to the vegetables laid out on the cutting board, and start with the garlic, peeling it out of its husk. “Sounds like a struggle.”
He scoffs, pouring soy sauce over the vegetables and tossing them before scraping them off on a nearby to-go container. “Holidays are always a struggle with pushy family.” Despite his outward scowl, amusement lights up his eyes for a moment.
You chuckle, having finished chopping up the garlic and moving to a green bell pepper. You slice it open, its seeds spilling onto the cutting board. “Your family’s pushy?”
“Yes, too pushy sometimes.” Sho shakes his head, shooing you to the side as he grabs potholders to pull the chicken out of the oven. “My brother’s more like my parents than I am.” He carefully places the roast chicken down on a short counter. It’s golden brown, stuffed with rosemary sprigs, lemon slices, and garlic cloves.
He places it to the side, readying the frying pain and reaching for the peppers you’d chopped, tossing them into the oil. You finish a pepper and reach for a leek next, slicing it into thick chunks. Your eyes flicker back over to the chicken momentarily, rosemary stems sticking out of it like a tail. “The rosemary stems look like a chicken tail.” You voice the thought absentmindedly, smiling to yourself.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sho glance over at the chicken himself. You hear a huffed laugh as he returns his attention to the peppers, sizzling in the oil. “Yeah, it does.” He’s silent for a moment before speaking up again. “Speaking of, it was hard to find fresh rosemary this time around.”
You look up, having finished cutting the leek. A confused expression crosses your face. “Where in the world would you find fresh rosemary in the dead of winter?” You look away, reaching for a carrot, slicing it thinly.
“Rosemary’s an evergreen,” Sho states flatly, reaching for the leek and garlic you cut earlier, mixing it in with the batch of peppers on the stove and stirring them. “You can find that fresh anytime. What’s harder to find, however…” Sho trails off, leaving the stove for a split second, reaching for the bag of your potatoes he’d placed on the ground earlier. He opens the bag and pulls one out, some dirt still stuck in the indents of its skin. “...Is fresh potatoes. They’re typically harvested in the fall.” He smiles at you, before turning away to rinse it off.
Realizing you’d been caught in a lie, you turn away from him, putting all of your focus on the carrot in front of you. You hear his footsteps slowly approaching before he places a freshly washed potato right in front of you, his hand shaking with mirth.
“Come on, MC. Don’t think I didn’t notice the dirt under your fingernails.” He chuckles before turning back to the stove, stirring the vegetables again. You drop the knife with a clatter and hide your hands behind your back, too nervous to check if you’d missed any spots.
You sneak a glance up at him, mistakenly making eye contact with him. His eyes gleam with amusement and his smile is soft and fond. “...It can’t have been that obvious.” You decide to admit to it, realizing the heat in your cheeks probably gave it away.
“It wasn’t.” Sho nods to you, pouring soy sauce over the stir-fried mixture and tossing it before scraping that off in a different to-go container. “I just happened to notice the dirt when you handed the scarf to me, and your potatoes smelled extra earthy.” He takes the pan off the heat, moving over to the chicken and carefully cutting out the breast.
It’s silent for a few moments, you staring at that freshly cleaned potato and Sho slicing through the chicken, placing the breast in one to-go container and the wings in the other. Sho finally speaks up, though his voice is low. “...You didn’t have to do that, you know.” You look up again, just to find him turned away from you, his ears turning red. Silence falls again as you watch him check off the to-go containers he’s finished. You assume he’s trying to distract himself from the obvious blush on his face, but you can’t say for sure. Something about it makes you feel similar, your heart rate picking up and your face reddening more. It wasn’t due to your embarrassment anymore. “I dunno, I’m bad at thanking people. Just, well…” Sho trails off, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, hiding his face from you. His voice lowers significantly, and contrastingly, the blush on his ears brightens more. “Thank you. I know potatoes take a while to grow. And…” He trails off again and swallows thickly. You don’t bother asking him to finish his sentence. The implications of his words grow somewhat heavy in your heart, and you wring your fingers nervously. Of course it was profound, growing potatoes for someone when you’re doomed to die, now in nine months. The thought of dedicating your time to anything that wasn’t curing your curse was odd, but this distraction had done you well nonetheless. You didn’t want Sho to feel bad about it at all. You were certain that, if anything, the gravity of being recognized by a girl doomed to die was dawning on him.
The words spill out before you can really stop them. “Don’t worry about it, Sho. I did that because I wanted to.” Confessing this was almost as raw as confessing your feelings, and your chest tightens at that thought, but you continue despite that. “You’ve been kind to me since after our first mission. And I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, including things as mundane as meal prep!” You gesture vaguely to the setting before you, hoping to get your point across. “I just randomly had the idea, and figured it couldn’t be so bad to act on it. It’s been a good distraction anyway, and what with all that happens here, a distraction does me some good.” Silence falls once more, and Sho finally turns to look at you, face flushed. He wipes his palms on his apron and worries his lip between his teeth, his gaze flickering between you and the floor. “...So what if I used up three months to grow potatoes? The time will pass anyways.” You turn away from him, looking at the washed potato. You reach for it and pick up the knife, beginning to cut it into cube chunks.
“...I guess you’re right.” You can hear a gentle smile in Sho’s voice, and it warms you up internally, feeling thankful he’s accepted the gift. You glance towards him, giving him a smile, and catch him staring. There’s an odd glimpse of admiration in his eyes, which makes your cheeks warm.
“Go on and finish cutting the chicken.” You wave off his stare and jerk your gaze away from him, hiding your blush and focusing on the cubed potato.
He scoffs and turns away, picking up his knife. “Giving me orders in my own kitchen, huh?”
You don’t respond. You don’t need to. The warmth of the heaters settles into your skin and the warmth of the previous pleasant conversation settles into your heart. You glance down at the bag of potatoes that started it all. The eyes of the potatoes seem to stare up at you knowingly.
You’re carrying a short stack of to-go containers outside to Sho’s bike, Bonnie, your boots crunching the frosty path beneath you. Snow would surely be coming soon. You gently place the stack in the box on the back of Bonnie, careful to make sure none of them tip over. You hear more crunching footsteps and turn around to see Sho, carrying the rest of the boxes. He places them in the box as well and organizes them before securing the box with a few straps. He steps back and exhales, smiling to himself. You can’t help but smile at his pride.
“Now, to deliver these…” Sho approaches Bonnie and gets on, patting her twice affectionately. The gentle thrum of the engine comes to life in response. He looks to you and smiles, and you notice he’s wearing your scarf. “Sure you don’t want a ride back to the chapel?”
You eye the box of food already on the back of Bonnie and shake your head. You wouldn’t test fate today. Your eyes find your scarf again, sitting snugly around Sho’s neck. “Well, at least you have a use for it.” You say, resigned. Part of you wonders if you’ll ever get it back.
Sho smiles, reaching up to touch the scarf. “Again, I’ll wash and return it.” He looks up to the sky, and you follow suit, noting the pale white blanket of clouds blocking the sun. “That said…” He starts, lowering his gaze to you again. “It is cold out. I may need this for longer than I expected.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice and his smile turns crooked, as though suppressing a smirk.
“...I’m not getting that back, am I?”
Sho shrugs, revving up Bonnie. “Who knows?” He smiles fondly at you one last time before speeding off, the wheels of Bonnie leaving tire tracks on the frosty path. You watch him as he leaves, his hair lifting in the wind, the tendrils of your scarf billowing behind him. You watch until he turns a corner and you can only faintly hear the rumbling of Bonnie’s engine. ‘I guess he really did have customers, even in this cold…’ You think to yourself, a faint smile growing on your face. You inhale the crisp cool air, feeling a bit cooler around your neck now that you’re missing a scarf. You idly look back up at the sky again, wondering if it really would snow today. Despite you enjoying the stillness of the winter air on Darkwick campus, the cold eventually bites at you, urging you to return to the chapel. Your footsteps crunch along the frosted path, following Bonnie’s tracks.
It’s Christmas evening, and things are finally winding down for the day. You’d been to Frostheim and made snow angels with Luca and Kaito, had coffee and played chess with Tohma, and Jin, despite himself, hadn’t asked you to run any errands for him today. You’d been to Vagastrom and exchanged gifts with Alan, tolerated Leo’s selfies with you, and looked around for Sho, but hadn’t found him. You’d been to Jabberwock and fed the animals with Haru, watched a romance movie with Towa, and played a holiday-themed horror game with Ren. You’d been to Sinostra and done some gambling with Taiga while Ritsu tagged along to ensure Sinostra’s reputation wasn’t damaged further, and had a surprisingly pleasant conversation with Romeo despite him saying your large coat made you resemble a slug. You’d been to Hotarubi and had tea and holiday sweets with Haku, Subaru, Zenji, and Lyca, who was visiting Subaru. You’d been to Obscuary and had Rui’s new holiday-themed drinks with Ed, chattering time away at the bar. You’d been to Mortkranken and reluctantly exchanged gifts with Yuri, aware of the fit he’d throw if you hadn’t gotten him anything, and pleasantly exchanged gifts with Jiro, reminding him to take good care of himself.
Finally, after a very long, exhausting, and eventful day, you were back at the chapel, counting the vines growing under your skin, glowing lavender like the flower on the back of your neck. Some small flowers broke your skin and bloomed here and there, leaving the exit wounds somewhat inflamed. Granted, you didn’t have much time left, and these vines made that clear, but this holiday had been much better than you’d expected it to be. You appreciated the effort most of the ghouls put forth to make this holiday at least somewhat enjoyable for you, especially considering it may be your last.
You sit by the fireplace in your room, watching the snow fall from the sky through your window. You had a tiny pine tree near your bed, decorated with handmade tinsel from the three Hotarubi ghouls and some small ornaments from Jin. You wore new pajamas from Romeo, though you weren’t sure how in the world he knew your size. You had a new bracelet from Taiga, who had originally forgotten who he’d gotten it for. On your nightstand lay a dreidel from Kaito and a snow globe from Luca. The hot chocolate you sipped on was a gift from Tohma, and some wine awaited you in your fridge, a gift from the Obscuary ghouls. You had a few new ugly holiday sweaters from various ghouls, Yuri and Ren included, and some not-so-ugly ones, thanks to Haru and Towa. A thick, heavy book about the origins of the laws of Japan sat on a nearby table, a gift from Ritsu that you had no plans to read. You had lit a scented candle from Leo, which you thought was surprisingly thoughtful, and had set aside the wax melts from Alan, planning to use them after the candle ran out. The new watch from Jiro was wrapped around your wrist, displaying the increasingly late time. In all of this, you wondered where your gift from Sho was. You hadn’t been able to spot him today, and the thought made you feel a little down. You’d wanted to spend some time with him today, but guessed he was probably too busy preparing Christmas dinner for all of Vagastrom and Hotarubi that he simply hadn’t had the time. You set your hot chocolate down on top of the accursed thick book and sprawl out in your chair, turning to the window again. Regardless, this had been a surprisingly wonderful holiday. The ghouls had given you gifts and willingly spent time with you, doing various fun activities and filling you with holiday cheer. It was a nice escape from the reality of your situation, even if it was only for a little while.
You check the vines under your skin again, resisting the urge to scratch at where a new white flower had bloomed near your elbow. You could feel that, soon after the holiday season mellowed down, it would be back to reality, and you’d have to face your own death once again. Part of you dreaded the eventual change in weather and in the length of days, knowing your predicted end was growing near. But a part of you was also resigned to it. Regardless of whether you were due to die soon or not, this had been a nice holiday. And you could stand to live in the now, just this once.
You carefully pluck the flower from your skin, wincing at the sharp pain. You bleed for only a few moments before it clots up. At least you could stave off the growth of the curse for now.
You hear a gentle knock at your door. Physically, you’re too exhausted to have much more fun at this point, but mentally, you could use a pick-me-up. You head down your stairs towards the door, opening it crack by crack, trying to prevent too much of the cold wind from slipping inside. You peer through the open doorway, jolting in surprise when a familiar pair of dark blue eyes meet yours.
“Hey,” Sho starts, lifting two boxes in his hands. “Thought you could use a warm holiday dinner.”
Your heart swells and all at once, a wave of emotion hits you. Sure, you didn’t have much time left, but that didn’t stop these ghouls from caring, and that was evident in the gifts piled up in your room, the fun you’d had all throughout the day, and the ghoul now standing at your doorstep, seeking more time with you. There was a reason he was your favorite.
You swing the door open wider, unable to hide the smile that breaks across your face all at once. “I was looking for you, you know.” You cross your arms and narrow your eyes in mock disappointment. “Where’ve you been all day?”
“Cooking.” Sho lifts a brow and shrugs, tilting his head at you. He smiles fondly at you, and you notice he’s finally dressed appropriately for the season; a hat covering most of his hair, a matching coat and gloves keeping him warm, and your scarf, tucked snugly against his neck inside his coat. Yet again, you realize you are probably never getting that scarf back.
“That scarf is still mine.” You gesture at his scarf, and he laughs, reaching up to brush the built up snow off of it.
“And I’m still using it.” He replies, smiling wider. “So… Gonna let me in or what? It’s cold out here.” His breath puffs into white clouds, and you notice his cheeks and nose are tinged red again thanks to the cold. You smile and step aside, letting him in.
You close the door behind him and he shakes off the snow built up on his coat. When he looks at you, his smile holds the warmth of a thousand candles and his voice holds the joy of a thousand holiday carols. “So… got any mistletoe? If not, we can start with gifts. Either works for me.” A blush covers his face as he pushes the boxes towards you, his smile growing wider and fonder.
You figure, regardless of how much time you have left, it wouldn’t hurt to spend a holiday with your favorite ghoul.
Bonus:
The gift, wrapped surprisingly delicately inside one of the boxes, is a knitted scarf in your favorite colors. It’s not bad, but you can tell it was done by a beginner. Holding it in your hands, a small smile grows on your face, and you sigh, totally resigned.
By god, you are never getting that scarf back.
“Well, thank you for your collateral replacement, but I expect that scarf back one day.”
Sho shakes his head, smiling as he chews on your shared meal, packed in the other box he was carrying. “No can do. It’s still cold and I still need a scarf.”
“I’m withholding the mistletoe, then.”
Sho huffs, rolling his eyes and continuing the meal. At his lack of a reaction, you purse your lips, thinking of another thing to withhold that might gift you a victory. Sho speaks, having swallowed his mouthful, “I can find other reasons to kiss you-”
“I’m withholding the potatoes.”
Sho looks at you in shock, dropping his forkful back onto his plate. “...I’ll think about it.”
Maybe you would get that scarf back, after all.
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a/n: it's done. finally it is done. finally! i've been writing this romance fic 4 a long while so im glad it is finally done
thank you all so much for reading!! as usual, i love likes, but especially comments, reblogs, and asks detailing how much you enjoyed my work!!! please feel free 2 fill up my inbox with whatever, i love talking 2 u all! but be warned my responses will be slow... im still recovering!
happy holidays 2 you all! i hope, whether you're surrounded by family, friends, or by yourself, that it's a wonderful and fulfilling holiday season 4 u. merry christmas 2 those who celebrate, and happy kwanzaa 2 those who celebrate that as well!! not very well versed in other winter holidays, but may they be joyous and merry!
#minors dni#tokyo debunker#tkdb#tokyo debunker x reader#tdb#tokyo debunker mc#tokyo debunker sho#shohei haizono x reader#shohei haizono#sho haizono#sho haizono x reader#sho haizono x mc#shohei haizono x mc#tokyo debunker jin#tokyo debunker tohma#tokyo debunker kaito#tokyo debunker luca#tokyo debunker alan mido#tokyo debunker leo#tokyo debunker haru#tokyo debunker towa#tokyo debunker ren#tokyo debunker taiga#tokyo debunker romeo#tokyo debunker ritsu#tokyo debunker haku#tokyo debunker subaru#tokyo debunker zenji#tokyo debunker rui#tokyo debunker edward
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𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑪𝑲 || 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐭 || Austin! Elvis
★ PART 2 - comming soon...
★ SUMMARY: Y/n is Elvis' fan, and when she gets to one of his performances for the first time, something happens. Something that she could never imagine in her wildest dreams...
★ PAIRING: Austin! Elvis x female! reader
★ WARNINGS: none??
★ NOTE!! My acknowledge of Elvis is not so big, all things I know are from movie, documents, webs etc! So I deeply apologize for any mistakes/typos/misunderstanding that have nothing to do with reality. All of this is fic and has nothing to do with no one or anything. Based just on Austin's role of Elvis! Thank you for understanding! 🫶🏻
The moment you saw him — the way he wiggles, the way he sings, the way he looks. His black hair shimmer in the spotlight. You are completely sure you've never seen anyone like this before. The entire United States seems to know his name by now.
Elvis Presley.
That's it. That's the name. Whether it's just Elvis or just Presley, everyone know who he is. You never thought seeing someone like that in person would mess with your head so much.
He is famous, even though he is still climbing towards true fame, but young girls are already crazy about him. And now you completely understand why. You're at one of his performances right now and it's unbelievable how much of an influence this guy has on everyone around you.
♪ Well, it's one for the money, two for the show, three to get ready now go, cat, go ♪
You would say it was almost impossible for him to notice the audience while he was moving around on stage, but one moment seemed to change everything. His blue eyes find yours. He seemed to lock his gaze on you while singing the rest of the song Blue Suede Shoes.
"Who's tha' girl over there?" Elvis asks the boys from band, not caring about the cheering he gets. "I have no idea, man," Bill answers. At that moment, Elvis is caring about nothing but the name of the girl who caught his eye.
If the crowd isn't crazy that much, he sure would jump into the audience just to ask for your name. "I need her name,"
"What?!"
Colonel Parker was already dragging Elvis into his presence. "Mr. Presley, there are some nice interviewers-"
"Get her damn' name, Bill!" As Elvis said it was done. The show ended and you're on. your way home, still taken away from all what happened. Bill runs after you, trying to catch you through the crowd.
"Miss?!" he shouts, not too far away from you. You turn around, seeing the familiar face. "Miss! E-Elvis sent me to see ya. He'd probably like to meet ya." Elvis would like to what? In less then 10 minutes you're waiting in the backstage, waiting for someone to tell you what's goin' on.
"H-hey, sorry for waitin'," suddenly you hear that deep fast voice. "Elvis. Elvis Presley, miss." he introduced himself to you as if you didn't know his name already. "All good," you shake his hand. "Y/n y/n/m."
"Y/n," your name slips from his lips like a melody. "That's uh- a beautiful name." Elvis seems really nervous but the more you look at him this close the more this feels unreal. "I- I was wonderin' if you're, uh, free tonigh'?".
"I am, yes," you reply faster than you thought. Who would decline a date with Elvis Presley? A nervous smile appears on his face as you agree. "Awesome! I'm here with my car, so..." he almost asks for your permission.
You nod and smile. Looking at him as he's wearing pink shirt with black pants. Not forget to mention that you are matching his outfit with beautiful pink cocktail dress.
You follow Elvis into his car, and the moment you see his pink Cadillac it's like a dream. "Ladies first," he chuckles, opening a door for you. You're sitting in Elvis Presley's car with Elvis. You're practically living a dream of every young girl right now. Elvis starts the car and he makes the way into the local dinner.
"So, Y/n, tell me about yourself," Elvis sits in front of you in the dinner. He ordered you and himself a strawberry milkshake. "There's not much to know, actually." you smile, your eyes scanning him. He looks so handsome and unreal.
"Ya know why I noticed ya?" Elvis asks, as you take a sip from your milkshake. "When I saw ya, you were, uh... different than other girls, y'know. You were so calm and uh,"
"That's because I've never seen anyone like you." you confess, blinking with your lashes. Elvis could swear he loves your eyes so much already. "I was simply taken aback when I saw you doing the... the things—"
"Ya like the way I move, doll?" he laughs. Doll. Is this how he calls girls he likes? Doll? "Bill told me, the first time I performed, that them girls like to see me wiggle. I can't stand still while singin'."
"Well, it's really mesmerizing..." Elvis smiles at you again. Oh gosh, how much he wants to get to know you more. You see the lovely desperation in his eyes. "I'm at college, right now. Finishing my studies. Daddy wants me to be successful, but whole my life I just dream about being free and... independent." you begin.
"Y'know, my daddy is a banker and my mama is a teacher. They both raised me really strictly to become the best version of myself. But that little girl always dreamed of life of her own, and still does." Elvis listened to you carefully, not caring that people in the dinner ate recognizing him.
"I've never met a girl like ya, Y/n," Elvis admits, his hand travelling to hold yours. "Ya are not like the other's, nah-uh."
"Do ya know I'm not surprised, Mr. Presley?" you take the last sip from your milkshake, then taking your purse and standing up. "Oh, Satnin', don't call me like this, I'm Elvis for ya," he grabs your wrist, stopping you from leaving. "Aight', Elvis,"
"Don't leave! Not yet," he pays for the milkshakes, turning back at you. "I gotta. Daddy's gonna be mad, if I'll arrive late."
"I'll drive ya home, mhm?" Elvis offers. Who are you to refuse this poor boy? "Okay."
When you're sitting in his pink Cadillac again, you don't want this moment to end. You can feel Elvis' eyes resting on you, as you smile. "Where do you live, doll?"
"Just around the corner. Turn right and the last house in that street," you point on the turn. The evening is already dark, but his eyes shine anyway. As Elvis pulls up on the driveway of your house, he turns to face you.
"Would it be aight', if I, uh, I called you sometime? What's ya number?" Elvis asks and your hands travel to your purse where you always carry a pen in a case of anything. Only problem is that you don't have a paper.
"Do you perhaps have a paper or something?" Elvis nods and searches the passenger's drawer for a piece of paper. He pulls out a piece of some kind of letter with his name on it – probably a letter from a fan.
When he hands it to you, he accidentally touches your knee. His touch is so gentle and soft. If you hadn't just met, you would want that touch to never end. Elvis passes you the paper, and with a smile you write your house phone number on it.
"Thank ya," you pass the paper back to him. "I had a great time, Y/n." he glances at you, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. "Are ya okay?" he asks, his voice low and easy.
You turn to him, startled from her thoughts. "Oh, I’m just… enjoying the moment, y'know," you reply softly, eyes darting to meet his before shyly falling away. The scent of his cologne, warm and woodsy, lingers between the two of you.
You both sit in silence for a moment, the world outside hushed. Elvis shifts slightly in his seat, leaning closer. “Y'know,” he murmurs, “I think you might be the nicest girl I’ve ever seen.”
You look up, your lips parting to respond, but before you can speak, he closes the distance between him and you. His lips meets yours—gentle, tentative, as if he was tasting the sweet taste of your juicy lips. Your breath hitches in surprise, but don’t pull away. Instead, a warmth unfurls in your chest, spreading like the soft glow of the car’s headlights on the road.
When he finally pulls back, his eyes searches for yours nervously. A boyish uncertainty crosses his face. “Was that okay?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. You blink, your cheeks flushing. Then you smile—a radiant smile that makes his heart skip. “It was more than okay,” you say, your fingers lightly brushing the back of his hand. “It was perfect.”
He grins, relief and joy flooding his expression. You got out of the car, rushing to the from door of your house. As you turn once more again to see him, he waves at you and drives away.
"Sweetheart, who just drove out of our driveway?" you hear your mom from kitchen. You can't say it was Elvis, but sooner or later she'll find out if he's going to call you. "No one, mama!" With reply you rush upstairs to your room, where you close the door and can't believe this is true.
NOTE: Hahaha, how bad was this? I mean, I have written this as a complete freestyle soooo 🥲 Nvm hope u gonna like this and I hope this serie will be successful, even tho I didn't even think of the plot yet 😭
#austin butler#austin butler x reader#austin butler imagine#austin butler imagines#austinbutler#austin butler fanfiction#austin butler x you#austin butler elvis presley#elvis film#elvis presley#elvis 2022 movie#elvis 2022#Spotify
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Avengers Crumbus
Summary: Everyone is excited for Christmas except Bucky.
(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)
Parings: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Incredibly corny.
Word Count: 1468 (Find all chapters here)
P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.
It was Christmas Day in the Avenger tower.
Tony was getting drinks ready, with Pepper helping him ready enough food for everyone there. Everyone else was decorating cookies in the lounge room, a good majority of them with coloured icing to look like themselves. You can’t help but smile at it all. Everyone dressed in Christmas sweaters, smiling and all talking together like they were all a big family, and they were all there. Except Bucky. It was his first year in the tower, so you understood why he didn’t want to be part of the entire holiday. He would rather trap himself in his room and pretend he’s just a shadow against the walls.
“Y/N! Get your ass over here and help me!” Wanda giggles, standing up and grabbing your hands to drag you over to the couch, and she hands you an icing tube, she was decorating her gingerbread house. Was it sloppy and an absolute mess of icing and candy? Yes, but, it was adorable. It honestly suited her well.
“Okay, okay!” You giggled in response as she drags you over, and you help with putting the roof and walls apart, sliding the tip of the icing tube through the little cracks to keep it as sturdy as icing could keep gingerbread sturdy. You look over, and see Steve and Natasha knee to knee, painting a last minute Christmas ornament, and Tony carries in some drinks, setting everyone’s favourites on the table in front of where they were sitting.
“Alright, let’s get this party started. Who wants to go first?” Pepper follows after him, Peter walking behind her and helping her carry in plates to set on the tables as well, and you grab your plate.
“How shall we decide this year?” Bruce stretches.
“Youngest first!”
“We did that last year! How about oldest first?”
“We did that the year before last year.”
“Well, rock paper scissors?”
“That’ll take wayyy too long!”
“How about newest recruits?” Clint looks over at you. “We can have Y/N start, then we can play popcorn and she can decide who goes after her, and so forth.”
“Well, technically, isn’t Bucky the newest-?” You hesitate.
“Well, he doesn’t wanna be here. So unless you think you’d be able to get him out here.” Tony bends down next to the Christmas tree, grabbing your first gift, your name written in Steve’s handwriting. “Then guess what? You’re first.” You take it slowly from his hands, and look over at Steve, who smiles softly back at you before pulling Natasha closer, kissing her forehead.
“Alright. I’ll go first.” You lean back, and unwrap the gift, trying not to rip it because you know Vision likes to collect the papers, even though he doesn’t ever join, saying Christmas was useless.
Inside the wrapping paper is a box, which you have to open as well, and once you peer inside, you smile and chuckle a little.
“Oh my God Steve…” You roll your eyes.
“What? Maybe then you can definitely get Bucky out of his room.” You take out one of the pieces of cloth, and show it to him with a stupid blush and smile on your face.
“You got my daughter lingerie?” Tony glares at Steve, but you can tell he’s only joking.
“That’s okay, wait til he sees his.” You shrug. You got him condoms.
A while goes by, at least an hour. Normally unwrapping gifts wouldn’t take so long for a a normal family, but there was some sort of conversation about every item that was given. Soon, there was only one box left, it was a smaller box. It wasn’t very well wrapped, so it was either by Peter, who was improving with the help of Pepper, or Bruce, who’s arm is still messed up from the snap.
You take the little gift in your hands, but before you can unwrap it, you notice there’s no tag.
“Who’s this from?” You hold the gift up a little, and every glances at eachother. Bucky…? You don’t say it outloud. You didn’t want Steve or Tony to tease him endlessly for his horrible wrapping skills. Plus, it was possible that it wasn’t Bucky.
You start to unwrap the gift, taking off the little bow first before taking off the paper, a little blue box with a silver heart on it on the top cover. You take off the lid, and on a little cushion is a necklace, two rings wrapped around each other with the chain; and it looked like both with adorned with diamonds. It makes your lips go slightly agape, and you take it gently out of the box, smiling, and out of the corner of you eye, you see Steve smiling. He’s proud of Bucky. You assume he wasn’t sure about getting you something, and being the great friend that he is, Steve managed to push him along.
“I uh… Well whoever got it for me, I love it.” You mumble, and Wanda reaches out to help you put it around your neck, clasping it in place.
After everything is cleaned up, and everyone is ready to head to bed, Thor in his new My Little Pony bathrobe. You dry your hands from washing the dishes with Peoper, and tell everyone goodnight before going to your room, taking off your sweater, and switching from your jeans to your plain red and black pyjama pants. Then you look in the mirror, your hair a messy bun, loose strands falling out, looking a mess. And you touch the two rings that are hanging by your chest. Then, without another thought, your leave your room in your bra and pyjamas, heading straight to Buckys room. Your theory seriously needed to be confirmed.
“Buck?” You don’t even knock, you just walk in on him, reading a book in black joggers, comfortable already in bed and… shirtless… anyways.
“Do you have hands?”
“Uh- yea?” Weird question…
“Can you curl them into fists?”
“Yes..?”
“Do you know how to knock?” You roll your eyes and move to his bed, sitting in the edge by his feet, and you see his eyes go to your chest. Not your breasts, but the necklace.
“Did you get this for me…?” You get straight to the point, and you watch as he sets his book aside before leaning forward, and he crosses his legs before patting the spot in front of him, which you quickly scoot over until you’re both sitting with legs crossed directly in front of eachother.
“Yes. I did. I’m sorry I didn’t come out today, I-“
“Buck…” You hush him, and put a hand on his knee, which he stares at. “None of us are going to force you to come out of your room. If you want to be alone, then that’s fine.” You reach up, gently grabbing his chin so he’d look at you. “I love the gift, James.” He smiles, and honestly rare occurrence.
“Hah- I haven’t gotten a decent gift for anyone in a while… but Steve said you would love it…”
“Well, it’s amazing.” You want to ask so many questions. Like why rings? Why you? Why would he spend that much on you.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Of course Bucky, you can tell me anything.” You take your hand away from his face to lean back, but his hand basically shoots up, gently grabbing your wrist to keep your hand there.
“I uh… Fuck.” He shuffles a little. “I really like you.” You both stare at eachother for a minute, a tiny smile trying to force its way upon you. “Fuck that’s so corny, I’m sorry.”
“No, no that’s not corny. How did that word even get into your alphabet?”
“I’m not that old.”
“Yea you are.” You both stare again. “And I really like you too, James.” He smiles again, and his hand moves up your arm, until his palm is cupping your cheek.
“Tony would kill me.”
“My dad would kill the most perfect man that he chose for me, Buck. You’ll be fine. Equal treatment honestly.”
Then without warning while your babbling away, you feel his hand move to cup the back of your neck, and he pulls you in, pressing his lips to yours for a few seconds, and you melt into it, closing your eyes and reaching back to gently run your fingers through his hair.
“Fuck… I’ve wanted to do that forever…”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get you a gift…” He tilts his head, both of your foreheads connected.
“But you did.” He chuckles. “I’ve got you, don’t I?”
“Of course you do…”
“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”
“Merry Christmas, James…”
#marvel#fanfic#marvel fanfiction#x reader#bucky#bucky x reader#steve rogers#tony stark#avengers#black widow#clint barton#natasha romanoff#wanda maximoff#sam wilson#vision#christmas#holidays#gifts#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes
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Hey bro thanks for fulfilling my request! Could you do a pt. 3 “Almost Love” (Sabrina carpenter x male reader) one where the baby is born?
one of me is cute but two though?
Pairings ; Sabrina Carpenter x Male!Reader
Warning/s ; none
The early morning light spilled through the curtains of the cozy bedroom, casting a warm glow over the serene space. Y/N quietly stood at the window, gazing out at the world as it began to wake up. The soft coos and gentle cries of their newborn son, Leo, echoed from the crib beside the bed. It had been two weeks since Sabrina had given birth, and each day brought a new wave of love and joy into their home.
"Hey, little man," Y/N said, turning to Leo, who was starting to wiggle. He walked over to the crib, his heart swelling as he peered down at the tiny bundle swaddled in a soft blue blanket. "Looks like someone is ready to greet the day."
Sabrina stirred in the bed, stretching and yawning before propping herself up on her elbows. "Is he awake already?" she asked, her voice still thick with sleep.
"Yep! I think he's hungry," Y/N replied with a smile, carefully lifting Leo into his arms. The baby snuggled against his chest, instantly calming down as he felt the warmth of his father.
"Good morning, my sweet boy," Sabrina said, her voice softening as she leaned over to get a better look at Leo. "You're so cute when you wake up!"
As Sabrina got up, Y/N cradled Leo gently, their little family settling into a comfortable morning routine. Sabrina made her way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle to prepare for Leo's feeding. Y/N followed closely behind, the sound of Leo's soft gurgles filling the air.
"You're getting quite the fan club, you know that?" Y/N said playfully, bouncing Leo slightly in his arms. "You're going to have all the ladies lining up for you."
Sabrina laughed as she finished warming the bottle. "Just wait until he's old enough to get his first crush. You'll be the one giving him advice."
"Advice? Me?" Y/N feigned innocence, putting a hand to his chest. "I'll be too busy scaring them away."
"Right," Sabrina said, shaking her head with a smile. "You can't scare them away forever. Just wait until he brings home a girl who looks just like you."
Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. "Oh boy, I'd better start preparing my dad jokes now."
After a quick feeding, they settled into the living room, Sabrina nestled comfortably on the couch with Leo cradled against her. The baby's tiny fingers grasped at her shirt, his eyes fluttering as he drifted off to sleep. Y/N sank down beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leaning in closer.
"Look at him," Sabrina said, her voice barely above a whisper as she gazed down at Leo. "He's so peaceful."
Y/N watched as Sabrina gently brushed her fingers through Leo's hair, a look of pure love on her face. "You're going to be an amazing mom," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.
Sabrina smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Thanks. It's a bit overwhelming, but I love it. I love him. I love you."
"I love you too," Y/N replied, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on her forehead. The warmth of their little family cocooned them, a safe haven amidst the chaos of new parenthood.
As the day wore on, they took turns with Leo, each moment filled with laughter and tender exchanges. Y/N found joy in changing diapers, despite the occasional mess, while Sabrina relished in the late-night feedings, their quiet chats fostering a deeper connection.
One afternoon, they decided to introduce Leo to the outdoors. Y/N carefully placed him in a cozy stroller, and they set out into the nearby park. The sun shone brightly, and the gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of blooming flowers.
"Look at this little explorer," Y/N said, pushing the stroller slowly along the path. Leo's big eyes widened in wonder as he took in the sights and sounds around him.
"Do you think he knows how lucky he is?" Sabrina asked, watching Leo's reaction with a smile. "He gets to see the world with fresh eyes."
"I hope so," Y/N replied. "I want him to grow up loving adventure. Just like his mom and dad."
They found a quiet spot beneath a large oak tree, spreading out a blanket on the grass. As they settled in, Sabrina laid Leo on the blanket, her heart swelling at the sight of him enjoying the warmth of the sun.
"He looks like he's ready to nap again," Y/N said, watching as Leo blinked slowly, fighting sleep.
"Let's give him a little break," Sabrina suggested, gently cradling Leo back into her arms as she reclined on the blanket. Y/N lay beside them, propping himself up on his elbow to watch the two most important people in his life.
"I could stay here forever," he said, a content smile on his face. "Just us three."
"Me too," Sabrina agreed, her fingers tracing patterns on Leo's blanket. "It's like a dream come true."
As the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, they shared stories and dreams for their little family, laughing at their own childhood memories while imagining Leo's future. They envisioned camping trips, beach days, and endless backyard adventures.
Later that evening, they returned home, a sense of peace enveloping them as they settled back into their routine. After a long day of exploring, Leo was asleep in his crib, the gentle rise and fall of his chest soothing to both parents.
Once Leo was tucked in, Y/N and Sabrina made their way to the kitchen to prepare dinner. They worked in harmony, chopping vegetables and stirring sauces, stealing glances at each other as they shared small smiles.
"I love cooking together," Y/N said, glancing over at her. "It's like our little date night, just with baby interruptions."
Sabrina snuggled closer, resting her head on his shoulder. "Definitely. And the interruptions are totally worth it."
Once dinner was ready, they settled at the dining table, enjoying a quiet meal while Leo slept peacefully just down the hall. They exchanged stories from the day, their conversation flowing effortlessly, punctuated by soft laughter.
"Can you believe we have a baby?" Y/N asked suddenly, leaning back in his chair and shaking his head in disbelief.
"Sometimes I still can't wrap my head around it," Sabrina admitted, her eyes sparkling. "But I wouldn't trade it for anything. He's our little miracle."
Later, after dinner and a few dishes, they moved back to the living room. Y/N pulled Sabrina close on the couch, wrapping his arms around her. "Let's watch something," he suggested, scrolling through their favorite shows.
Sabrina snuggled closer, resting her head on his shoulder. "How about a movie? Something light-hearted."
"Sounds perfect," Y/N agreed, pressing play. They settled in, the soft glow of the screen illuminating their faces. As they laughed together at the film, the sound of Leo's gentle breathing echoed from the nursery, a soothing reminder of their new reality.
As the credits rolled, Sabrina looked up at Y/N, her expression softening. "I'm so glad we're doing this together," she said quietly. "I can't imagine anyone else by my side."
"Me neither," Y/N replied, brushing a stray hair from her face. "You make this whole parenting thing look easy."
"Easy? Hardly," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "But I have you to share the load. We're a team, right?"
"Always," he vowed, pulling her in for a sweet kiss. "To infinity and beyond."
The evening wore on, the atmosphere in the room shifting as the playful banter faded into a comfortable silence. The spark in Sabrina's eyes ignited with a hint of mischief, and she shifted closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper.
"You know, we could have a little fun while Leo is sleeping," she said, her smile teasing as she glanced back toward the nursery.
Y/N's eyes widened in mock horror, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Oh no, not another one of your brilliant ideas!" he exclaimed, shaking his head dramatically. "What if we wake him up?"
Sabrina chuckled, leaning in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "But think of all the fun we could have... just us."
Y/N's heart raced, caught between the temptation and the duty of a new parent. "Sabrina," he said, trying to sound serious, but the twinkle in his eye betrayed him. "We're supposed to be responsible."
She pulled back, a sultry grin still dancing on her lips. "And who said responsible couldn't be fun?"
Just as the heat of the moment swirled around them, the faint sound of Leo stirring in his crib echoed through the house, a soft reminder of their reality.
"Uh-oh, sounds like Leo needs us," Y/N said, barely containing his laughter.
Sabrina groaned dramatically but couldn't help giggling. "Fine! You win this round," she conceded, leaning back and rolling her eyes, but the playful glint remained.
As they both burst into laughter, the love they shared enveloped them, a beautiful mix of chaos and joy that defined their new lives together.
And just like that, the moment hung in the air, their lives forever intertwined, both ready to embrace the unexpected adventures of parenthood, one laugh at a time.
#dailywomen#imagine#fanfic#one shot#sabrina carpenter x y/n#sabrina carpenter x male reader#sabrina carpenter x you#sabrina carpenter x reader#sabrina carpenter one shot#sabrina carpenter fanfic#sabrina carpenter imagine#sabrina carpenter
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would you look at that! we reached 1k followers, everyone! I'm so grateful for all the following, I don't really know what to say out of that and the fact that it means a lot to me. It shows I may not be doing too badly with my art and work, even if I doubt a LOT. I love you all and I thank you more than 1000 times for all of this!! I'll do my best to make my work worth your time!
to thank y'all I make this:
this took me a while to do but it's here haha. With this, I will open my ask box temporarily so you can ask any of the variants for the weekend. I will not respond with drawings unless it's necessary. I'll let the ask box open until Monday at 11am CEST.
if you need to know what to call them and so I understand who you're asking I gave them Tags. Of course, if it's Walter or Stanley you want to ask, please be precise so I don't get lost x)
#we reached 1k#i'm just so grateful guys#thank you for following me through all of my mess!#with that I'll go back to work!#planning stuff as usual#tsp#tsp narrator#tspud#narratorverse#doodles#tsp stanley#tsp art#the stanley parable narrator#the stanley parable#let's bring all the variants in the mess lol#all at once weeeeeeeeeeeee#lexumpy's art
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Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who from the moment he laid eyes on you, has only ever referred to you as his wife
You, this sweet little thing, running through the halls on base one day when you turn a corner and nearly run headfirst into the Lieutenant, who’s walking alongside Soap
“Oh! Sorry about that, sir.” You told him, never slowing down in your hurried pace as you snuck around his large frame and continued down towards whatever you were evidently late for
The only reason his gaze had followed your retreating form, was that unlike everyone else, you had met his eyes when you spoke, even smiled warmly up at him
That one smile and he was done for
“Who was tha’?” The sergeant had questioned, seeing Ghost’s attention still fixated on you.
“Think that was my wife.”
“Yer what?!”
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who makes it a point to let everyone know that you are in fact his wife
Well, everyone apart from you apparently
He would certainly never abuse his position as a Lieutenant, but some new recruit had the audacity to whistle at you as you walked by? Well 100 laps around the base don’t exactly run themselves
Another soldier saved you a seat next to him in a briefing? He can enjoy scrubbing toilet seats for the next week in that case
Someone actually had the bollocks to ask you for your phone number? Perfect, he needed a volunteer for demonstrating hand to hand combat to the recruits, medics on standby of course
By the time he properly introduces himself to you for the first time, it’s understood by everyone else around that you are, for all intents and purposes, Mrs Riley
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who listens to you tell him your name in a voice that resembles music to his ears, hardly bothering to remember your last name, seeing as it’ll be changing soon enough anyway
“You can call me anythin’ you want, love.” His deep, gravelly voice had sent shivers down your spine, cheeky smirk widening beneath his mask. “So long as you call me, that is.”
By the end of your first date, (you were sitting alone in the dining hall and he wordlessly joined you what do you mean this isn’t a date) he’s wondering if you’ll insist on a ceremony or if he can sweep you away to the nearest courthouse and make this official, slipping a ring onto you finger and his cock into you
You had laughed when he put his number into your phone and named himself ‘Husband’, certain that the man was only messing with you, some kind of hazing that you apparently weren’t aware Lieutenants played on the new communications hire, but it was only fair seeing as he’d saved your contact under ‘Wife’
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who is over the moon every time you play along, even if he knows you believe you’re only playing
“Ach, thanks Lt. Just what I needed.” Soap said, seeing Ghost’s approaching form enter the common room, holding a steaming cup of tea in each hand
“S’for my wife. Get your own.” The older man gruffly replied, sliding the mug onto the side table next to where you’re curled up on the couch, reading a book
“Aw, thank you honey.” You giggled, smiling up as him with an expression he thinks would taste even sweeter than honey if he were to run his tongue across your upturned lips
“Happy wife, happy life, sergeant.” Ghost shrugged, ignoring the other man’s pout, landing next to you and reaching an arm behind you across the back of the couch
“God, maybe I really should keep you.” You’d laughed, reaching a leg out to dig your socked toes into his muscled thigh, teasing him
Grasping your foot into his large, strong hands, he began massaging it, uncaring that you were only two of the many people in the common room, not when you looked at him like that, smiling together as though you truly were nothing more than a married couple
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who surprised you one day, insisting he needed your help with something crucial off base, and drove you to a local shopping outlet to look at none other than dresses
“Is there some sort of party happening?” You’d questioned, confused out of your mind
“Suppose you could consider it a party.” He’d answered, leading you through the many racks of dresses, you noticed were all, very conveniently, white
“Now while you’re lookin’ through dress sizes,” he’d added, taking your left hand in both of his. “You know your ring size? Got my own shoppin’ to do ‘round here.”
Series masterlist
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fic#simon riley#simon ghost riley#cod fanfic#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#cod simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon fluff#simon ghost riley x you#cod simon ghost riley#ghost x you#ghost fanfic#call of duty ghost#ghost cod#ghost#wife at first sight series#wife at first sight
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miss pretty
{single dad!katsuki bakugo x kindergarten teacher f!reader}
summary: katsuki bakugo has never liked mess and always made sure his son and his life reflected just that. with years worth of a sparkling clean and organized home, toys put away and not once scattered about, and a barking knack over any calls of disorder in his life— meeting you, his sons sweet and sugary kindergarten teacher who was the definition of pure and who was for some reason turning his fiery heart into complete goo— was altering his boring strict cycles of no messes around… and for the better.
warnings: cursing, FLUFFF GALORE MY GAWD??, no smut but a lil steamy something, slight angst, afab!reader, katsuki thinks you are an ANGEL, sunshine x grumpy trope, mentions of abandonment, WHOLESOME AFFF, use of y/n, all characters are aged up.
word count: 11.4k
authors note: THIS MAKES ME WANT TO BE A MOTHERRRRR omg this one is sickeningly sweet and i’ve gotten a few requests to do sunshine x grumpy with sir katsuki and i WAS ALLL OVERRR ITTT i hope i fulfilled!!! <333 THANK YOU THANK YOU AS ALWAYS FOR ALL OF YOU BEING SOOO SWEETT TO MEEE I LOVE YOUUUU MWAAAHHH :] <33333
katsuki bakugo hated messes.
“oi!” he grunted, his son’s little head turning to look at him as he munched on his gummy fruit snacks from the backseat. “you better not leave that wrapper in here. take it outside with you when i drop you off.”
“kaaayyy!” his son dragged out happily, completely unphased by his dads snappy personality as he contemplated on which color fruit gummy to eat next.
“and wash your hands too. ask your teacher.”
“mhm!” he chirped.
“and don’t be a brat. pay attention.”
“yup yup!”
and for the most part, his life reflected that almost entirely— raising his son to always clean up after himself and not make bombastic huge messes around the house, begrudgingly understanding that he’s a small growing human, that a little spill of apple juice or two is basically guaranteed… but he just hated mess, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t raise his son right to be a clean and organized man even at five years old— katsuki keeping everything in his life practically spotless.
that was of course, until he met you.
katsuki shoved through the other parents in line as he went up to the front desk in the main office with a grip on his sons little hand, not giving a damn about the glares and huffs of bewilderment he got as there was no way in hell he was gonna wait like an idiot with the rest of them.
the lady at the front desk raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“can i help—”
“where the fuck is room twenty four.”
her eyes bulged open as the rest of the parents in line softly gasped and murmured.
“e—excuse me?—”
he rolled his eyes.
“room twenty four.” he pushed. “where is it?”
“sir— if you need me to help you i’d like you to wait in line until—”
“hah?! absolutely not.” he spat. “if i wait in that fucking line my son’s gonna be late why can’t you just tell me—”
“uh sir if you could—”
katsuki’s son giggled as he continued to spout profanities at the poor front desk lady.
“—sir please no foul language there are children around—”
“i don’t give a shit! just tell me where room twenty four is what the hell is so hard about that?!—”
“oh! that’s my class!”
katsuki snapped his head over, fiery red eyes shooting towards the voice until they landed on yours.
“is he one of my kids?” you smiled sweetly, eyes coming down to look at his son.
“oh—” he let his shoulders relax just a tad as he watched you fix the strap of his sons backpack on his shoulder. “i mean— if your class is twenty four—“
“it is!” you beamed, nudging your head. “i’ll show you where!”
“hiii miiiissss!” his son greeted, happy and silly as he followed you down the hall.
“hi honey!” you gushed, just as excited as he was as you patted over his blonde scruffy hair. “what’s your name?”
“milo!”
“nice to meet you milo! are you excited for your first day?”
“yeaaahh!” he cheered, smile bright as he grabbed your hand.
katsuki’s eyes widened.
“milo!” he snapped lowly. “what’d i tell ya? you can’t grab her hand like that you have to ask—”
“oh it’s alright!” you dismissed, smiling. “i don’t mind it at all! the other kids do it too.”
milo snickered and stuck his little tongue out at his dad, and katsuki rolled his eyes.
“is he yours?” you asked kindly, tilting your head.
“who else would he be…” he grumbled.
“i guess you’re right!” you giggled. “he looks just like you.”
katsuki’s eyes flickered to yours before dropping back down, a permanent furrow in his brows as you all rounded the corner.
“here we are—”
“ooo! ooo!” milo hopped up and down. “miss you have race cars?! dad can i please go?!”
he looked over, a mountain of toys scattered about in the classrooms play area, little kids already making a damn mess and the school day hadn’t even officially started yet.
“the hell you asking me for? ask your tea—”
“miss miss can i please go play with the race cars?!—”
“of course my love! go! go have fun.” you smiled, gently ushering him on before milo zoomed over to the play area and crouched down with the rest of the kids.
“oi!” katsuki barked. “put them away when you’re done!”
he huffed under his breath as he watched his son give him a thumbs up and fucking dump the entire bucket of race cars down on the ‘abc’ play rug, taking one in each hand and dragging them across floor.
“he’s so cuteee.” you grinned. “i’m glad he’s not afraid being it’s his first day.”
“oh fuck no.” he mumbled. “milo doesn’t care. the little runt doesn’t have a filter and does whatever the hell he wants without askin’ sometimes.”
he leaned against the doorsill as he watched milo converse with another kid and share a car, satisfaction in his chest that his son was sharing and being nice.
“but i guess he gets that from me.” he finished off.
you nodded. “but that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
he pursed his lips.
“in my experience, not really.”
you hummed.
“i think it’s definitely a good thing… i’d rather be assertive of things and not be afraid of what the consequences will be.”
katsuki looked at you, properly this time.
“what’s a kindergarten teacher afraid of?”
you shrugged, a slow playful grin spreading across your face.
“parents.”
he snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and you quickly had to look away, a pink buzz to your cheeks at the way his big built arms flexed.
inappropriate inappropriate inappropriate—
“i don’t know how you do it..” he spoke lowly.
“do what?”
“take care of little shits all day.”
you laughed loudly, reeling over a bit as he watched you out of the corner of his eye.
“i don’t take care of them! i teach them.” you quipped cutely. “they’re small, but this is when their brains drink up the most knowledge… and i love to see the progress from the beginning of the year compared to the end! i love it all really.”
pure.
katsuki curtly nodded, your sweet positive ambiance throwing him completely off, as he doesn’t think he’s ever met or surrounded himself around someone who’s directly emmitted the feeling of sunshine and rainbows and candy as much as you did.
and his cheeks flared up for some reason.
“oh!” you looked to the time on your little wrist watch and walked inside your classroom. “it’s almost time to start! i have to wrangle them all in their seats heh!”
katsuki swallowed and nodded.
“milo!”
he turned and upon seeing his dad wave him over, milo dropped his toys and bounded to him.
“don’t give her a hard time alright?” he spoke sternly, nudging his head over at you for emphasis. “listen. listen and learn and be the best one in there.”
“kaaayyy!”
“and you let me know if any of the other kids mess with you or you deal with it yourself. you already know how—”
“beat the crap out of them!” he cheered loudly and katsuki’s hand flew to clasp over his sons mouth before his frantic eyes looked at you.
the last thing he needed was someone to call up fucking child protective services on him.
“he’s joking! he’s joking… fuck.”
you giggled hard and clutched your stomach, your pretty smile sending katsuki for a loop.
“no you’re absolutely right!” you waved your hands in front of your face, reassuring. “treat others the way you want to be treated, so if someone’s being mean to you, bite back milo, okay? and also let me know first though!”
katsuki gave you a wobbly tiny smile amidst his branded serious face, looking at his son then and ruffling up his hair.
“okay, go.” milo ran off. “and don’t let me pick you up with dirt all over your clothes ya hear me?!”
“byeee daaaddd!”
you could tell that behind his harsh exterior— the slight purse of his lips, stiff frame and bouncing leg gave away that he was only worried about his kid and his first day of school, a sight you’ve seen time and time again since you started working as a kindergarten teacher, and one that never failed to warm your heart.
“don’t worry!” you sweetly smiled, and katsuki switched his gaze over to yours. “i’ll watch him especially… okay? to ease the nerves.”
he softly snorted, attempting to play it off but internally relieved as he pushed himself off the doorsill and nodded, thankful that the teacher milo got was as kind as you.
“um…” he mumbled. “katsuki.”
you tilted your head. “katsuki?”
“it’s my name idiot.”
“oh!” you giggled, a blush rising in your cheeks again as you tried to simmer it down. “nice to meet you katsuki! i’ll see you after school then with milo?”
he stiffly nodded, the way his name sounded so sugary off your tongue something he’d never heard before in his life or was used to at all.
“…ya gonna tell me yours or what?”
“sorry!” you sputtered, laughing nervously. “sorry it just— flew! you know—”
you stuck your hand out and offered it to him.
“y/n!”
katsuki untangled his arms and firmly shook it, grip strong and one that nearly made you stumble forward as you caught yourself and smiled.
“i’ll see you katsuki!”
out of all of the kids you’ve taught, milo was by far the cutest one.
the little man was like your personal assistant— a little bee buzzing around as he followed you everywhere in the classroom and helped you clean up after the rest of the kids that didn’t, ‘yelling’ at some of them to and cutely scolding them whenever he’d catch them leave some things behind, and was always on watch for you like a security guard with his little balled up fists on his hips, surveilling the classroom for any misbehaving kids or messes that you’d missed throughout the day.
all traits you no doubt knew he got from katsuki, even if you had just met him. it was pleasantly obvious.
“thanks for helping me out today, milo!” you gushed, pushing another students chair in as they all sat down and chattered for lunch. “you made my job a lot easier!”
“really?!” he squealed, big glimmering eyes beaming up at you before he happily chowed down on some apple slices.
and you noticed then milo’s lunch was insane, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut up and molded neatly into the shape of panda bears, his watermelon and apple slices shaped like stars with carrots and celery lined up with a little wedge of lemon if he wished, tiny rice balls on the side for a little snack you figured in case what he had didn’t fill him up— all so considerate and careful…
“wow!” you exclaimed, kneeling down next to him. “your lunch looks so yummy my love! did your mommy make this?”
“nuh uh!” he shook his head, cheeks filled with watermelon. “my dad did!”
you faltered.
“katsuki made this?”
“who’s katsuki miss?” he asked curiously, sipping on his little juice box after swallowing the fruit in his mouth.
you giggled. “nothing! nothing. enjoy your lunch okay?”
you went to stand, but milo’s hand shot out and caught your wrist.
“can you— can you eat lunch with me?” he mumbled shyly, fiddling with some carrot pieces in his hands. “please.. i always eat with my dad but he’s not here…”
your eyes softened and you quickly nodded.
“of course! let me just go grab my lunch and ill bring it over! sounds good?”
“yaaaayyyy!” he cheered happily, arms up as you scooched a tiny chair over from a nearby table and sat with him, laughing at his cute expression.
you knew you shouldn’t use a little kid to pry… but you were guiltily curious as to know if katsuki was married or not for reasons that made you ridiculously flustered and red in the face over.
and you wanted to be respectful in case he was… since the ogling you did at his muscles this morning through his black ribbed tank was the most embarrassing moment of your career and one you hadn’t seen coming at all, it catching you off guard and feeling horrible if katsuki indeed had a wife.
but he didn’t have a ring on his finger…
“milo?” you spoke up softly.
he smiled big. “yes miss!”
“does your mommy make you lunch as well or just your dad?”
he shook his head. “just my dad! i don’t have a mom.”
your shoulders deflated.
he didn’t have a mom… at all?
you slowly reached over then and patted his blonde hair, smiling warmly as his cheeks went pink. “that’s alright! i’m sure your dad makes you lunches like this every time huh?”
“yeah!” he gasped excitedly. “yesterday he made pizzas and cut them into dinosaurs! it was so cool! and then!— and then this morning for breakfast i had waffles that looked like dynamite blasts!”
“oh my goodness!” you giggled, your heart absolutely thumping over the fact that katsuki was so dedicated to his son like that. “man, i wish my lunches were as cute as yours!”
his little eyes snapped to yours.
“i’ll tell him!”
your brows furrowed confusedly. “wha—”
“to make you lunch! i’ll tell my dad to make you lunch!”
your eyes widened and you frantically shook your head, cheeks blazing as you laughed. “oh no my love! that’s totally okay don’t worry about me silly—”
“i’ll tell him i’ll tell him i’ll tell him!—”
“milo it’s okay! i’m a big girl.” you grinned. “i’m supposed to make my own lunches.”
milo grumbled and plopped a carrot in his mouth, begrudgingly chewing as he sat there in thought.
“…will you at least let me share some of mine?”
you pouted at his generosity, wondering how a kid could be so sweet as you nodded and held your hand up.
“of course sweetie! whatever you wa—”
milo plopped all of his peanut butter sandwiches in your palm and grinned, earning a gasp from you.
“milo this is too much i can’t—”
“eat it! eat it! eait it!—”
by the end of the day, you managed to get milo to take back his sandwiches in exchange for one singular watermelon star piece, him still doing his regular duties of being your little assistant and helping you clean up after everyone before the final bell rang signaling the end of class, you carefully making sure each kiddo got their designated backpack (as there was often a mix up) and art pieces they made for their parents to take home— a permission slip for the end of the year field trip tucked away inside their bags.
and the minute you stepped outside with the rest of the kids, you were surprised to see that katsuki was one of the first parents there as he stood directly across from your classroom with crossed arms, an angry usual scowl on his face that made you laugh to yourself as you led your kids to sit down on a bench in a single file line until their parents physically came to get them or their vehicles pulled up.
“milo!” you tapped his shoulder gently. “your daddy’s over there!”
“DAAADDD!!”
milo jumped up and ran across the grass, his tiny arms out as katsuki smiled softly and crouched down to pick his son up and settle him on his lower abdomen, you wringing your fingers behind your back and walking up to them.
“were you a brat?” he grunted.
“nope!”
“did any kids mess with you?”
“nope!”
“did you leave a mess?”
“nope!”
you giggled, and katsuki’s eyes snapped in your direction.
“how was he?”
“he did so good!” you gushed, patting milo’s back as he grinned. “was my little helper and everything! didn’t leave a single mess behind and helped me clean up after everyone else… he even made sure everyone was paying attention and not misbehaving.”
“yeah! yeah! see dad?” milo poked his dads cheek. “i didn’t lie!”
“never said you lied you little runt.” he scowled. “…but good job.”
“thanks!”
katsuki set him down after milo started kicking his legs and saying something about the swings, him instantly running towards the playground and to the slide.
“did he actually do all of that?” he spoke up.
“oh yes!” you quickly nodded. “i’ve never had a kid do that before so it was really nice of him to!”
you detached your fingers from around your back and fiddled with them.
“you teach him well katsuki.”
he scoffed and turned his head, cheeks pink as he tried to regain his composure.
“damn right i do.”
you giggled then, the memory of milo telling you he didn’t have a mother suddenly popping into your mind as you watched him happily slide down the blue slide head first.
“hey i don’t mean to um..” you timidly began. “i don’t mean to pry but—”
katsuki raised a brow at you and you snapped your mouth shut.
“nothing! nothing nevermind—”
“spit it out.”
“no it’s alright! sorry i—”
he glared and you cowered, smiling bashfully as you bit your bottom lip.
“milo… milo mentioned that he didn’t have a mommy? i was just— wondering if that was true…”
“tch—” he shook his head. “that’s what you were afraid of askin’ me?”
“i told you i’m scared of parents…” you slumped cutely, and he chuckled.
“it’s just me and him.” he answered. “his mom’s never been a part of our lives.”
your heart sunk a little, eyes sad as your gaze shifted to milo playing and racing around with another kid.
“don’t do that.”
you jumped and looked at katsuki.
“do— do what—”
“look all sad and shit.”
he hesitantly reached over and planted an index finger to the crease between your brows, the feeling rough as he tried to gently drag it down and smooth over the lines.
“it’s fine.” he grumbled, letting his arm fall to his side. “it doesn’t bother him. at least i don’t think it does.”
“no!” you spoke quickly, a crazed blush on your cheeks. “it doesn’t! and milo speaks so highly of you… especially the lunches you make him.”
his brows furrowed. “his lunch?”
“yeah!” you nodded excitedly. “you prepare it so so well! how do you get his sandwiches to look like little bears? and his fruit?! every time i try to cut mine into stars they always break in half…”
he huffed out a laugh, finding your little whine funny as he reached over and ruffled up your hair, you smiling cheekily in response.
“do you use molds?” you asked politely. “to shape out the bear?”
“fuck no.” he scoffed. “i do it myself.”
your eyes flew open.
“what?! so that’s really just you? and the dinosaurs too? the pizza dinosaurs? and the waffles? the ones that looked like dynamite blasts—”
“jesus christ how much did that kid tell you?”
your face grew hot as you smacked a hand over your mouth.
“sorry!” you giggled. “i just was thinking— that his lunch was really cute and thoughtful…” you took your hand away from your face. “i’m really glad that you do little things like that for milo to make him happy.”
katsuki stared at you, your swarm of compliments and sweetness and sunshine and butterflies almost suffocating as you looked at him with those pretty doe eyes, his throat oddly closing up the longer he stared right back and allowed you to pull him into your world of wonder and abc blocks and puzzles.
but it wasn’t suffocating in a bad way, not at all.
and… maybe he did want you to pull him in.
“dad dad dad!”
milo ran over, sweaty and red faced as he reached the two of you.
“there’s a dead lizard in the slide!”
“a dead lizard?” you laughed, surprised as you reached for his little water bottle from his backpack on the ground and uncapped the lid, handing it over and ushering him to drink.
katsuki didn’t know why the domestic sight of you doing that made him melt a bit.
a bit.
“yeah miss! it was big and gross.” he breathed out after gulping some of his icy cold water. “but i buried him!”
his dads red eyes snapped down to his and narrowed.
“don’t tell me you touched that thing milo.”
“i did!” he giggled.
“oh my fucking god—” katsuki snatched his hand and started pulling him to the car as milo giggled and stuck his tongue out.
“it’s a prank! some other girl in my class did… but i helped with the dirt!”
you chuckled softly as you watched katsuki stop and roll his eyes, coming back over to you with a hyper milo.
“say bye to your teacher ya little runt. and you’re still taking a shower when you get home!”
“but i don’t wanna take a showeerrr!” milo whined, letting go of his dads hand and running to you, you crouching and extending your arms big with a pretty smile.
“bye my love!” you hugged him tight as he giggled. “i’ll see you tomorrow okay? and give your daddy a break. no more digging up dirt and playing with dead lizards.”
“kaayyyy!”
you both let go and he stepped back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before bouncing back to his dad.
katsuki choked on his spit.
“oi!” he barked. “you can’t just kiss her cheek milo the hell is going on with you?!—”
“it’s okay don’t worry!” you smiled kindly. “he’s just being sweet is all! i don’t mind.”
“you sure?” he pushed, milo snickering. “i—”
you waved him off and wrung your fingers behind your back, leaning forward.
“i’ll see you tomorrow morning kats!”
and he froze, nodding hard as he quickly took milo’s hand and backpack before walking to the car, his heart completely aflame in his chest and cheeks red as he led his babbling son further into the parking lot and inside the car, buckling him up in his car seat before hopping in himself and starting the engine, unbelieving that he had barely just met you and he was already thinking and acting like a fucking dumbass.
“and then we learned the days of the week! oh!— and we learned numbers! i can count to fifteen dad!”
“that’s good milo.” he responded, pulling out of the schools parking lot and craning his neck to see if he could catch a final glimpse of you and settling once he did, you so pretty and conversing so nicely with another kid until he was out of the lot.
“did you eat all of your lunch? y/n tells me ya shared with her.”
“i did! i did share with her.” he grinned. “she liked my lunch!”
“good.” katsuki gave him a thumbs up through the rear view mirror. “that’s good that you always share. especially with her.”
“yup yup! she’s preeettyyy.”
he rolled his eyes, but a small smile grew at the corner of his lips as he nodded curtly.
“that she is.”
katsuki continued to drop off his son personally at your classroom every morning before school.
even when it had been a couple of months into the year, at this point many students already used to their route to and out of class and their parents just dropping them off and leaving— them not even allowed on campus as security rounded every corner and told any parents who wished to go in that they weren’t supposed to, as per policy.
but not katsuki.
katsuki didn’t give a fuck as he stormed through the main office and ignored the calls of the front desk lady, her already used to the rude asshole who came through the building every morning as he strode by and down the hall to class twenty four… wanting to see you— his son’s pretty kindergarten teacher that was sweet and joyful and someone who was everything he wasn’t, his mind curious and filled with your giggles and smiles throughout the time that he’d gotten to know you and chat with you in the mornings and the afternoons, loving the way you were with milo and treated him like he was literally your own— always watching over him and making sure he had had enough to eat and drink and that his hands were washed when he wasn’t around.
and even katsuki himself— you bringing him candy bags from their classroom parties or donuts that were passed to faculty in the mornings and saving yours for him, treats he always took and ate with no questions asked even though he wasn’t a fan of sugary shit and junk food, always making the exception for you.
he had never experienced honest help like that… he’d never experienced someone caring enough about him and his son like the way you did so perfectly every single day…
and katsuki feared that he was a little obsessed.
“oh! miss y/n!”
“yes honey?” you responded kindly, opening a juice pouch for another student and handing it to them carefully during lunch.
milo dug into his lunch pail and pulled out a small container, sticking his hand up and offering it to you.
your brows furrowed, taking it from him.
“what’s this milo?”
“it’s from my dad!”
you stopped, heart dropping to your ass as you recounted his words.
from katsuki?
“your— your dad?”
“mhm!”
you shakily popped the lid of the container open, eyes widening and filling with hearts once you saw a mix of star shaped strawberries and watermelon and papayas, drizzled over with sparkling strings of honey and singular little blueberries scattered about.
“for me?” you asked softly, crouching down next to milo. “my love— are you sure this isn’t for you? i think your dad cut these up for you—”
“nope! for you!” he gave you a big toothy smile before stuffing his mouth with crackers. “he told me not to eat it and to give it to you.”
he swallowed and reached up, you tilting down your head so he could pat it just like you always did for him.
“i hope you like it miss! they look like the ones you told me looked cute!”
“i— i love them milo.. thank you!”
you picked up a papaya piece and ate it, entirely dazed and love struck as your tastebuds savored over the sweet velvety thick honey, literally blinking back tears at how thoughtful and kind katsuki was.
he didn’t have to do this at all… yet he took the time anyways out of his morning to do this for you.
and your heart nearly fucking gave out.
after school once you got your rowdy kids to sit neatly on the bench and wait for their parents, you extended a hand for milo and he hopped off the bench and took it, you both walking up to a waiting katsuki as he stood there with a soft smile on his face.
“hi kats!”
“hey.” he picked his son up and settled him over his abdomen, milo’s arms clinging around his neck and chin propped up on his dads shoulder as he was exhausted from a days worth of playing and learning.
“i wanted to um—” you peered up at him. “i um—”
his brows furrowed, and just as he was about to bark about you stumbling over your words, he stopped.
your bottom lip was trembling.
you hurriedly wiped your eyes.
“i wanted to thank you—” hic! “f—for the star shaped fruit this morning—”
“why are you crying dumbass?” he mumbled, reaching over and wiping some tears with his rough fingers.
“because it was so nice!” you sobbed, shoulders shaking as you let him wipe your cheeks. “and— and you put honey over it too! you didn’t have to do any of that for me!”
“tch—”
he flicked your forehead softly, not enough to hurt you but enough to get you to snap out of your hiccups as you sniffled.
“it’s just fruit y/n—”
“but it’s not.” you wiped your eyes again. “not to me anyways…”
katsuki slowly lowered his arm, gaze tracing over your pretty face and perfect hair and the way you cried over something so stupid, his brain unable to process the fact that an act as simple as cutting fruit up for you could make you this happy, and it made him want to see what you saw for once— how you saw the world for exactly what it was and appreciated it regardless of how big or small things were, not snippy or angry or spiteful over everyone and thinking everything was out to get him and his son.
“crybaby…” he grumbled. “i’m glad you liked it though.”
“i did kats.. a lot. thank you.” you wiped the last of your tears and smiled. “i’m sorry i cried.”
what a pretty sweet girl…
he shook his head and hoisted milo up, him completely knocked out with drool coming out of his mouth as katsuki felt it run down his shoulder, barely even noticing that though as his entire focus was trained purely on you.
was it okay if he… asked you out? would it be weird? would you tell him to fuck off?
katsuki internally rolled his eyes at his stupid fucking high school boy thoughts, though it didn’t alleviate the gnawing feeling that if you did tell him to fuck off… that he’d be angrily mortified at his fail and probably lose the right to talk to you since it’d be too awkward to.
but you were just so fucking sweet. all of the time.
“listen uh—” he cleared his throat, face growing hot. “i was wondering if ya wanted to eat dinner with me… sometime.”
you stared, eyes big and shocked and katsuki took it defensively and entirely the wrong way.
“forget it.” he snapped. “forget it i didn’t say shit—”
“no! no no—” you quickly shook your head. “no it’s okay i would!”
he stopped.
“you would?”
“of course!” you expressed sweetly, cheeks hurting from how big you were smiling as you tried to simmer down your giddy squeals. “i’d love to have dinner with you…”
his tense shoulders slowly relaxed, an eventual small smile growing on his face.
“a—alright uh…” he sighed. “i’d prefer to take ya somewhere nice but i don’t really have anyone to watch milo—”
you shook your head again, brows pinched. “oh no kats— we don’t have to go anywhere at all! we can order something in at your place and eat with milo? or— or my place?”
“my place.” he replied. “and i’ll cook.”
he cooks?!
“okay!” you giggled, your hand reaching up and patting over milo’s sleepy head gently. “sounds good!”
katsuki and you agreed on the details of the date after and bid each other bashful goodbyes, swooning as you watched him walk away into the parking lot with a sleeping milo in his arms and feeling like none of this was fucking real, for you couldn’t believe someone as handsome and cool as katsuki would ever be interested in someone like you.
and funnily enough, he felt the complete opposite, stressed and extra snappy as he cleaned the house from top to bottom (though it barely needed it), unnecessarily fixed the positioning of the furniture and made milo put away his toys, him not even whining or protesting like he usually did solely because the little man knew you were coming— pretty miss y/n with the pretty smile and the nicest lady he had ever met, and one he secretly hoped would be his new mommy every time he saw you and his dad converse before and after school, thinking you would fit the role perfectly.
especially after his dad had given you those fruits as a present!
“milo!” katsuki called. “come ‘ere!”
his son ran into the kitchen, toy race car in hand. “what!”
“be good today, ya hear me?” he pushed, face stern as he flipped a kitchen towel over his shoulder and sautéed vegetables in his frying pan. “please milo. don’t try to be funny and do somethin’ to scare y/n off.”
milo gave him a look.
“scare miss y/n off? dad you’re gonna scare her off not me!” he giggled. “silly.”
“yeah..” he grunted. “you’re probably right but i’m just sayin’. i’m thinking of the time grandma came over and ya put that fake rat in her purse to try and be funny.”
“ohhh yeeeeah!” he doubled over in little fits of laughter, holding his stomach as he did. “i did do that!”
“see what i mean?” katsuki grumbled, snatching the kitchen towel from his shoulder and throwing it down on the counter top, stepping back to peek in the oven. “you better not do that with y/n please.”
“i won’t!” he grinned. “not when she’s about to be my new mommy!”
katsuki choked as his spit went down the wrong pipe, bending over and coughing uncontrollably in his elbow before spinning around and looking at his son with wide eyes and pink cheeks.
“the hell you just say?”
“what!” milo tilted his head. “that y/n is gonna be my new mommy?”
his eyes grew even wider as he dropped the pan he was holding on the stove and leaned back, running his hands over his face.
“oh you little runt please don’t say that in front of her, alright?”
he pouted. “why not?”
“you’ll scare her off! worse than when you put that fake rat in grandmas purse!”
“boooo!” milo stuck his tongue out and crossed his little arms over his chest. “whatever.”
“oi!”
“what!”
katsuki’s doorbell chimed and milo booked it to the front door.
“missss preettyyyy!!—”
“milo get your ass back here!—”
katsuki swung the door open and swooped his son in his arms just as he was about to pounce on you in midair, you giggling and covering your mouth as you watched the scene unfold before you.
“i’m sorry—”
“hiii misss y/nnn!” milo greeted happily, dangling off of his dad as katsuki tried to stop him from wiggling out of his grip. “i’m so exciteeeddd!—”
“hi my love!” you gushed warmly, smile wide as you extended your arms and walked forward, taking milo in your arms and setting him on your hip. “how are you? you excited to hang out with meee?”
“yes! yes!” he vigorously nodded. “i wanna show you all my race cars!”
“oh i can’t wait to seeee!” you bounced him on your hip and he giggled, you turning your attention and smiling at katsuki.
“hi kats!”
“the little brat is hogging—”
milo blew a silly raspberry at him before wrapping his arms around you and shoving his face into your neck.
you laughed and ran a soothing hand over the little man’s back, katsuki rolling his eyes before stepping to the side and letting you in, shutting the door behind him and leading you over to the kitchen.
and jesus christ you looked beautiful, him noting that pink was what you mainly wore on the day to day as he eyed your small rosy cardigan, you walking through his home and looking around and oblivious to the way he was staring at you like a fucking creep.
katsuki bit the inside of his cheek as he watched your eyes scan your surroundings, stupidly nervous about what you’d think of his house and furniture and minuscule decorations, and annoyed with himself that he’d even give a shit about something like that, trying to occupy himself and ignore it as he looked in the oven and lifted lids of various pots and pans, checking over tonight’s dinner.
“i’m sorry i’m behind…” he grumbled and waved his hand around. “had to clean the house and shower milo since he decided to play in the fuckin’ mud this morning.”
“oh you don’t have to apologize for that kats!” you looked at him worriedly. “you don’t have to apologize for anything i totally understand…”
you hoisted milo further up your hip and grinned. “i’m just happy to spend time with the both of you.”
katsuki felt smoke puff out of his red ears as he nodded and scratched the back of his neck, turning slightly and lifting the lids from his pots and pans again.
“miss preettyyyy!” milo whined. “when can i show you my race cars?!”
katsuki scowled and you laughed.
“now honey! but how about we move some of your toys to the living room so i can spend time with both you and dad? how does that sound?”
“yayayay!!” milo cheered, bouncing on your hip as you smiled cutely and set him down, him running off down the hall and you quickly following after him.
milo talked you through his entire collection of race cars as you both sat down on the living room rug— telling you the model of each and every one, what they did, how fast they went, they places they’d gone, and which were his favorites as you excitedly talked to him about his cars and shifted conversation between him and katsuki, a task he was surprised you did so efficiently, but then quickly realized that that was literally your fucking job everyday dealing with little brats talking your ears off and you attending all of them at the same time.
and when it came around to dinner time, you helped katsuki set up even through his snapping and huffing that you absolutely shouldn’t, you giving him a silly little face as you assisted anyways and set up milo’s booster seat, picking him up and sitting him down before buckling him up while katsuki placed your dishes on the table—
and gourmet fucking dishes at that.
you were bewildered. absolutely bewildered as you gawked over the lasagna platter he set before you, it delicate and fancy looking as he had even draped sauce on your gray ceramic plate in gourmet intricate designs, knowing that katsuki had mentioned to you he was a chef over the several months you’d gotten to know him, but you didn’t know exactly to which extent that chef occupation stretched to.
“kats…” you murmured. “what do you do for a living.”
“i told you idiot.” he passed over a couple of napkins and you gratefully took them, taking one then and wiping down milo’s mouth as he messily ate his cut up pieces of lasagna. “i’m a cook.”
“yeah but what kind? where?”
“why?” he gruffed. “does it look like shit?”
“no!” you giggled. “absolutely not the opposite actually! this is probably the most beautiful lasagna i’ve ever seen in my life.”
“duh.” he responded, but sent you a small smile as he ate. “i’m an executive chef down at a restaurant in the city.”
your jaw dropped. “the city?! you’re so cool kats! oh my goodness!”
his face flushed.
“my dad says his boss is a piece of—”
“don’t say it!” katsuki snapped at his son, eyes wide as you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing, not wanting to encourage the little man any further.
“milo i told ya not to cuss until you’re ten—”
“ten?!” you giggled loudly and let your hand fall, sticking your fork in your lasagna and eating. “as long as he cusses with you and not at you… i think it should be fine!”
katsuki stopped.
you get it. or you rile up his bad cussing habit. either or he might as well have found his fucking soulmate.
“miss pretty!” milo called.
“yes my love?”
“do you have a boyfriend?”
katsuki smacked a hand on his forehead and you snickered.
“i don’t!” you grinned. “why milo?”
“because i want you to be my new—”
“milo if ya shut your mouth right now i’ll buy you two new race cars tomorrow.”
his son gasped dramatically and pursed his lips shut, eyes big and excited as he tried to contain himself and do as told.
“his new what?” you tilted your head cutely, katsuki’s heart hammering against his rib cage as he stuffed his mouth with food.
he shrugged. “the fuck should i know?”
“but i wanna know!” you pouted, taking your final bites of your yummy dinner.
he swallowed.
“do you want dessert?”
you gasped. “oh my god yes! i do!”
“then i suggest you shut your mouth too.”
you laughed over the table, quickly nodding as you pursed your lips like milo and pinched your thumb and index finger together, running it across your mouth and twisting your wrist like a pretend lock before dropping your hand in your lap, giddy and excited over dessert.
katsuki playfully rolled his eyes and stood, collecting all of your plates and stacking them on top of each other before taking them over to the sink.
“dad!” milo called as he bounced in his seat, katsuki grunting in response.
“what’d you make for dessert!”
“mochi.”
“yaaaayyyyy!” he cheered happily. “can i eat it with y/n in the living room?”
katsuki’s brows furrowed. “the living room?”
“yeah!” milo exclaimed. “so i can keep showing her my race cars!”
he struggled for a moment before eventually nodding. “alright… but don’t make a mess i just cleaned—”
you and milo ended up building a fucking fort once he gave you the all clear, you both saying something about it adding to the ambiance as you used the couch cushions for makeshift walls and milo’s choo choo train sheets for the roof and tent, katsuki before he knew it his entire living room a fucking mess as the three of you sat amongst the scattered about pillows and blankets eating your bits of mochi, milo mainly inside the little tent you made for him as you and katsuki were too big to fit inside with him.
his living room was a mess… but he didn’t mind.
katsuki didn’t mind the mess.
your way of living was entirely different from his, as yours had everything to do with mess due to your full time job with kids— paint all over your hands and face, marker stains on your clothes and sticky glue residue and pieces of cut up construction paper somehow in your hair, all things katsuki despised for years and made sure his house never reflected any of that.
but in that moment, with his living room in complete disarray and the positioning of his couches utterly fucked up? the dishes still in the sink and the table still set?
katsuki didn’t fucking care.
because he had never seen his son so happy. he had never seen him so excited and hyper as you helped him set up and somehow tie fairy lights that katsuki had somewhere up in his attic for holiday seasons around the fort, you looking fucking gorgeous under the dim dark lightning as you read milo one of his favorite children’s books you got from his little shelf in his room— ‘the very hungry caterpillar,’ one of your favorites too as his son followed along with you and giggled whenever you’d make a silly joke only a five year old would find funny.
and katsuki felt warm… that’s all he ever felt when he was around you.
is this what it was like to be a family?
“oh my goodness i almost forgot!” you quickly sat up and handed milo the book, him taking it as you crawled over and reached for your bag. “i brought something for you honey!”
milo gasped and sat up. “really?! what?!”
you pulled out a ceramic cream colored globe with hollowed out stars, a small bulb inside as you scooched on your knees back over to a curious katsuki and milo.
“woah..” his son whispered. “what is it?”
you smiled and reached for the nearest outlet, plugging in the little globe and flicking a switch.
the darkened room illuminated itself then with the soft murmur of a lullaby playing, star shaped shadows slowly shifting around the entire living room as milo gasped and stood, frantically pointing at each moving shadow and gushing while his little mind was trying to process how cool and fascinating this was.
and all katsuki could do was stare at you.
stare at the way you sat back on your ankles and pointed with milo, counting how many stars you could see before it shifted and repeating that for fun, stare at the way both of your eyes glowed with wonder and curiosity, and stare at the way you smiled so gracefully and looked unreal now under the starry lights, his heart on overdrive at how gentle you were and how much you cared about his son.
about him.
and katsuki was sure then he was absolutely sick over you.
you all settled after a while of playing games and eating more mochi, especially milo, the little lullaby knocking him out as he snored next to you in his fort, you and katsuki laying down next to each other as you stared up at the shifting stars.
“i’m sorry i made such a mess in your living room..” you whispered bashfully. “i promise i’ll pick everything up before i leave.”
he shook his head. “don’t worry about it i can pick up. it’s fine.”
you smiled at him warmly before looking back up at the ceiling, feet planted on the blanketed flooring as your mindlessly moved your propped up knees side to side.
“was it hard raising milo on your own kats?” you asked softly, fingers wrung together neatly on your tummy.
“it was at first.” he mumbled. “but i got used to doin’ it on my own.”
you frowned, not particularly happy with the idea that katsuki had to raise a human being on his own without any help or guidance, wishing that he would’ve had someone there to help him every once in a while, or just be there for him.
“you did an exceptional job, okay?” you began. “you should know that... milo is such an honest kid… and he’s so precious too.”
katsuki’s eyes softened, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at you in fear of you noticing his stupid flustered face as he opted for keeping his gaze glued to the starry ceiling, your sugary peachy perfume not fucking helping as he decided to sit up instead.
“he is.” he grunted softly. “don’t know how his mom didn’t see that.”
you faltered and sat up with him.
“what do you mean?”
katsuki eyed you before looking down, hands flat behind him propping himself up as he thought.
“ah… milo happened because of some random hookup i had in college.” he mumbled. “didn’t love her or anythin’, i barely knew her but still told her i’d support her and the baby obviously.”
you nodded, encouraging him to continue.
“i was there through her entire pregnancy and when milo was born… but the minute she got discharged from the hospital and took him with her, i woke up at four in the mornin’ with a knock on my door and milo left abandoned on my doorstep.”
you gasped, hand hovering over your mouth.
“are you— are you serious?”
katsuki nodded.
“she wouldn’t answer my calls, my texts, nothing. i went to her house and found out she took the first flight she could to fuck knows where.” he shook his head bitterly. “but i didn’t give a shit about me i’ll raise him i don’t care. it was never about me.
he looked at you. “it was about milo. i didn’t want him to know that his ‘mom’ left him behind like that, and i didn’t want him to think it was his fault or anythin’… shits ridiculous.”
katsuki shifted his gaze back up to the ceiling. “still don’t know how she could ever do something like that.”
the sound of a hiccup make his eyes widen and snap back to you, your eyes filled with fat tears as your bottom lip wobbled, hands coming up to cup over your mouth and nose as you tried to keep it in.
“you’re crying?”
you nodded, squeaky slight sobs slipping past your throat as you strained to keep everything down.
“that’s so cruel.” you cried softly, embarrassingly drowning in your tears in front of him yet again. “you didn’t deserve that at all kats… milo didn’t deserve that you both should’ve had such a good mommy and— and a good support system—”
katsuki pushed himself up and wrapped his big arms around your shoulders, pulling you in and rubbing a hand up and down your back comfortingly.
“you cry over everything y/n.”
“s—” hic! “—sorry—”
he laid the side of his head on top of yours as you shook, somehow feeling guilty of what he told you just because of how much you were crying.
more than when he gave you those star shaped fruits.
“oi…”
katsuki pulled back and looked at you, reaching up and wiping your tears with his thumbs.
“don’t cry baby…”
baby?!
you funnily sobbed even more and shoved your face in his chest, him chuckling as he wrapped his arms back around you and gently swayed side to side.
“stop it idiot.” he mumbled. “it’s fine. it happened years ago n’ milo and i have always been alright on our own.”
…but he wanted you now.
now that he knew what it was like to be softly cared for by someone precious like you, to feel what it was like to be warm and fuzzy and sunshine and rainbows and candy all of the time… and katsuki wanted you so. bad.
“i know..” you hiccuped. “and i’m really glad but i just wish you had someone.”
you pulled away and quickly wiped your wet cheeks. “m’sorry i cried all over your shirt—”
“don’t give a fuck.”
you breathed out a laugh and dropped your hands in your lap, looking at your fingers as you sniffed.
you were always crying for him.
“y/n.”
“yeah?”
he looked to the side with a blush to his cheeks.
“thanks for comin’ today.”
you smiled brightly and nodded.
“of course kats! how could i not?” you looked behind you to a sleeping milo, reaching over and pulling his blanket a little further up his shoulders. “i want you to know that i wanna be there for you and milo…”
he shifted his gaze to you as you turned back around.
“whether— whether you wanna keep seeing me or not—” you gnawed nervously at the inside of your cheek. “which i hope you do! but— but if not that’s totally fine i just want to be there for you both…”
how were you so pure? so thoughtful?
“why the hell wouldn’t i wanna keep seeing you?” he huffed, grumbly and embarrassed as he pursed his lips. “i’d be stupid as fuck not to…”
you blushed, happy shiny eyes looking at him eagerly like he was everything and more, and he wasn’t used to people looking at him like that whatsoever as your gaze flickered down to his lips and back up.
and you were so pretty.
“y/n.”
“mhm?”
he slowly leaned closer.
“would you be mad if i made a move on you—”
“of course not—”
katsuki lunged and planted his rough lips on yours, you tasting like straight sugar and honey as he placed his big hands on the sides of you head and held you like a piece of delicate glass, kissing and sliding your tongues in each others mouths rather quickly and breathy as he moved one hand from your pretty face down to your waist to grip it.
you placed your hands on the blanketed floor and slowly crawled over to him during the makeout, him reaching and wrapping the rest of his built muscly arms around your waist and pulling you to straddle his lap as he ran his hands up and down your sides and back, wanting to feel you as much as he possibly could and squeeze you tight as he gulped your little self down, brows furrowed and lips red.
katsuki pulled away and ran his fiery wet mouth across your jaw and to the spot right below your ear on the side of your neck, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as he bit and sucked and still squeezed you, manhandling you in a way and eating you up.
your eyes fluttered open once you heard a slight rustle, your line of sight catching milo shifting a little in his sleep.
“k—kats—” you breathlessly whispered, pushing a little at his shoulders.
he grunted.
“milo—” you pointed. “he’s waking up—”
“the fucks that gotta do with us—”
“kats!”
he groaned and pulled his mouth from you, scowling over to see his son only shifted positions and was now directly facing the both of you, tiny eyes closed as he drooled and was probably dreaming about race cars and his dads shark shaped pb & j sandwiches.
“the little runt is fine—” he shoved his face back in and gnawed at your neck again as you gasped.
“nooo!” you whined and giggled softly. “now i’m scared he’s gonna wake up…”
he huffed and officially pulled away this time, red eyes dilated and half lidded as he looked over your pinky cheeks and shy face, the purple and blue mark he made on your neck making the right side of his lips curve up into a little prideful smirk, you too distracted to notice over the way he clutched and loosened up the hold on your waist repeatedly.
katsuki kept you on his lap and scooched himself down, laying on his back and head on the pillow as he nudged you to lay on him completely over his chest and body, you more than happy to do so as you settled your head on his pecs and got comfortable with his strong arms around you— feeling so safe and looked after.
and you hadn’t expected to sleep over… but you just didn’t wanna leave, and katsuki sure as hell didn’t want you to either as you softly and quietly talked over the small tinkling of the lullaby and milo’s soft breathing, shadowy stars still slowly shifting around you as you easily switched between various topics— ranging from serious to silly as you ran a loving hand over his chest and his on your back, the both of you subconsciously lulling each other to sleep until you were just as passed out on the floor as milo.
since then, katsuki didn’t wanna let you out of his sight.
as if he wasn’t already involved enough with milo’s school activities because of you, this man became a fucking member of the pta and volunteered himself for every single event so as long as you were there, helping you out especially with fundraisers and bake sales as his desserts always sold out quicker than anything else and made bank as he snickered and boasted at the other parents that weren’t selling as much, you giving him a silly glare that never failed to shut him right up as he wanted to be good for you and not upset you.
the front desk lady even went from hating him to loving him, katsuki grumbling and chucking her a bag of leftover fundraiser chocolate chip cookies on her desk as he passed by to drop off milo in the mornings, serving as a ticket way in and to get her to shut up now instead of yelling at him from down the hall.
and he continued to give you yummy star shaped fruits.
except now some days they looked like hearts or little flowers, and he always made his fruit assortments different so you wouldn’t get tired of them and added different dippings like caramel or chocolate hazelnut, you gushing and nearly bawling literally everyday whenever you’d open the container and milo giggling at you during lunch.
you also never went a day without stopping by or staying over at katsuki’s house since your first initial date, your days so much fun and filled with love as you ate lunch or dinner with the two of them, laughing at milo’s sporadic comments or katsuki’s barking and scolding while you either played with milo, helped katsuki clean up the house and him the kitchen or you the kitchen and vice versa, or simply cuddle on the couch with kisses shared amongst you and katsuki— the three of you with milo seated peacefully and comfortable in the middle while you watched a movie or lulled the little man to sleep.
and katsuki had never felt so complete as he started leaving messes behind without even realizing or stressing about it, and he didn’t know when the fuck it was that he turned so soft and sappy— the change a bit strange to those who knew him as he was just a teeny weeny less explosive and angry over small things, and more so when it came to you and his son.
“make sure you keep your little bucket hat on honey, okay? it’s hot today and i don’t want you to tire yourself out milo.”
the end of the year field trip for the kindergarteners this year was a voyage to the local wildlife sanctuary, a gorgeous exhibit that sat right next to the national science museum in your city, its main attraction being the 25 foot koi pond and butterfly wonderland that housed various butterfly species and their little habitats— the kids field trip assignment being to count how many they see throughout the day and pick one koi fish and butterfly to draw on their journals.
katsuki, of course, volunteered as a chaperone.
“single file line please my loves!” you called, hand by your mouth. “and don’t seperate from your friends okay?! everyone stay where i can see—”
“oi!” katsuki barked, snapping and pointing at a rogue kid who decided to break free from the line and run across the grass. “the fuck do you think you’re doing!—”
“kats!” you breathed out a shocked laugh. “you’re gonna get me fired if you talk to the kids like that—”
“shit! sorry— i’m sorry baby hold on—”
katsuki booked it across the grassy lawn and caught up with the running kid on the other side, the rest of your class giggling and cackling as katsuki swooped him up with one arm and dangled him upside down while he kicked and swung tiny punches to his abs, katsuki not even flinching.
“do that again and see what happens brat.” he spat, the little kid not having a single care in the world as he giggled with the rest of the class, all of them deviously planning to piss katsuki off as much as possible since his outbursts were just funny.
“okay okay—” you smiled apologetically at him before taking the dangling boy from his arm and setting him back down, fixing over his clothes and backpack before patting his head and standing upright.
“no more running alright?” you placed your hands on your hips. “don’t we wanna see some cute little fishies and butterflies?!”
“yeeeeaaaahhhh!!” the babies cheered excitedly, each of them immediately returning to their designated spots in two lines as you grabbed your line leaders tiny hands and started the walk down the grassy field to the sanctuary.
“lemme help ya with one line baby—” katsuki went to grab one of your line leaders hands until they burst into a crying fit.
“no! no! i wanna hold miss y/n’s hand!”
katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “what’s so bad about me hah?”
“you’re ugly! miss y/n is pretty!”
the rest of the kids ruptured, laughing as katsuki sent death glares to a literal child, about to spout something nasty until his eyes flickered to your pleading face, his muscles instantly relaxing as he casted his gaze to the ground with a grumble.
you giggled and gave him a sweet kiss to his cheek in gratitude, his face flushing as he eyed your deep blue overalls and pinky shirt and the way your sunglasses sat pretty in your hair on top of your head.
“what honey?” you tilted your head.
“none of your business.”
you snickered and nudged your shoulder with his, looking over at milo from somewhere in the line to make sure he was okay before walking up the front gates of the sanctuary.
the wildlife guide met you once you all were cleared and inside the greenhouse, your kids absolutely restless as they ‘listened’ to whatever the guide had to say and just wanting to break free and run around to look at all of the fishies and butterflies like you had promised, and you not even listening either as you drooled over the way katsuki’s muscles looked under his t-shirt.
“any questions sweetheart?”
“huh?” your eyes snapped to the guide, cheeks pink as you quickly shook your head. “oh! no not at all! thank you ma’am!”
“alrighty then! just please make sure to tell your students—”
suddenly your two perfect lines broke apart as the kids started running around and pointing at fluttering butterflies and screaming, the guide looking like she’d seen a ghost as the usual quiet and serene sanctuary was now the epitome of noise.
“i’m sorry! i’m sorry—” you guiltily apologized. “my kids will settle down they’re just excited is all…”
the guide kindly waved you off before walking back to the main office, you turning and expecting to see katsuki standing next to you, but faltering once you saw he was on the other side and pulling one of your kids down that had climbed up the gates of one of the sanctuaries closed off exhibits.
“oh god..” you mumbled, about to make your way over until you spotted milo in a corner alone, staring at one of the koi ponds.
“milo?” you called softly, walking up to him.
your heart sank once he turned and you saw his little tear filled eyes and wobbling lip.
“oh no!” you gasped, crouching down and taking his tiny hands in yours. “what’s wrong my love? are you okay? is it too hot?”
you pushed some of his spiky blonde bangs back from his sweaty forehead as he shook his head.
“i can’t draw!” he sniffled. “and the koi fishies keep moving…”
your shoulders relaxed in relief.
“that’s okay!” you took his journal and pencil, wiping his wet cheeks as you smiled sweetly. “as long as we’re patient with the fishies, they’ll swim back and you can draw them again!”
you opened his journal and flipped to a new blank page, the both of you waiting quietly until a big chubby koi fish swam by.
“there!” milo whispered and pointed, and you quickly drew what you could, just making out the shape of the body before it disappeared again.
“and now we wait!” you grinned up at him. “the fishy will come back around and you’ll be able to draw it again.”
“kayyy!!”
“and you can draw milo. i’ve seen your artwork in class, remember? you always get a gold star!”
he giggled. “i do miss pretty!”
you ran a soothing hand over his back before passing his journal back.
“now you try honey—”
“i love you.”
you froze and looked up, katsuki standing there with a sincere and vulnerable look in his eye.
you stood from your crouched position and looked at him wide eyed.
“i’m not— i’m not good at this kinda shit at all and i always say somethin’ dumb but i do.”
“kats—”
“and i’m sorry it took me so long to say it but i tried to make it obvious with my stupid shaped fruits n’ shit… and i always thought you kinda just knew…”
milo was too busy focusing on catching glimpses of the koi fish to draw with his tongue peeking out to even realize what was going on next to him.
“you’re so patient baby. the way you are with me… the way you are with my kid. i need that in my life and i can’t live without it at this point…” he spoke genuinely. “your fuckin’ fault.”
you giggled and covered your face with your hands, face hot to the touch and bashful at everything he was telling you.
“come here.”
you listened and walked forward, dropping your arms as you wrapped them around his abdomen and his around your head, squishing you in his big chest as he propped his chin up.
“do you love me too or what.” he frowned. “cause if not this is shitty and embarrassing—”
“no i do!” you giggled, pulling away and giving him a cheeky smile. “i do kats you know that… i love you. so much.”
he smiled and pecked your lips. “good, miss pretty.”
katsuki had heard the entire conversation you had with his son, your words seeping with such tenderness and care, and he almost passed the fuck out when he thought about how much of a blessing you were, something he’d be a fool not to snatch up and take as he nearly fucking proposed to you in the middle of the sanctuary like an idiot, not knowing at all how a person that pissed people off for a living was loved by a woman who was the definition of pure.
because how the fuck did an angry dunce like him, get lucky with an angel like you?
“oh my god that dumbass kid is climbin’ the fence again— oi!”
katsuki quickly kissed your cheek before flying to the other side of the sanctuary, you doubling over in laughter as you watched him fight and tug and pull, your student not budging at all whatsoever and the rest of the kids laughing at how red katsuki was getting in the face.
“miss pretty!” milo tugged at your overalls, and you looked down to see him holding up his open journal, a cute wobbly sketch of a koi fish on the page as he smiled big. “i drew it! do you like it?!”
“wow milo!” you gushed, crouching down to his level and taking the journal, examining his artwork. “this is beautiful my love! see? i knew you could do it!”
“thank youuu!” he responded sweetly, his little cheeks blushing as he looked at you like he had another thing he wanted to say.
you tilted your head. “do you wanna tell me something else?”
“yeaaahhh.” he dragged. “please love my dad… i know he’s mean but— but he doesn’t mean it!”
your eyes softened as milo looked down at his shoes.
“and love me too… because i want you to be my new mommy…”
you quickly blinked back tears as to not alarm milo, surprisingly successful at preventing them from slipping down your face.
“i do love your dad honey… and you. the both of you i love so so much.”
he beamed. “really?!”
you nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “and i thought i was already your mommy milo!”
the little man gasped and flung his arms around your neck.
“YAAAYYY!” he yelled. “miss pretty is my mommy! i have a mommy now!”
ever since you came into katsuki’s life, his way of living materialized into something completely different.
because now instead of his house being plain and boring and organized from top to bottom without a single thing out of place— it was warm now… happy. and never went a day without smelling like cookies and vanilla as you and katsuki baked with milo any chance you could, set up more pillow forts and tents with starry ceilings, and slept with milo in his room as he snored content in his little bed, you sprawled directly on top of katsuki like he always had you as you both every day intended to leave after putting his son to rest, but ending up falling asleep on the floor each time.
the three of you were a little family.
and katsuki didn’t know why he hated messes so much in the first place.
because mess signified that something had been there, something sunny and tender, something that signified family as you peppered kisses over both your boys’ faces everyday and katsuki drowning you in his rough ones— your man squeezing you so tight all of the time and anywhere, as milo wasn’t just his son now but yours too as you took him to the park or to the aquarium on your days off, the three of you gently living as both of milo’s small hands were occupied now instead of just one.
katsuki’s life looked like it had been generously cherished and lived in for a change.
and katsuki bakugo loved messes.
so as long as they were from you.
taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):
@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @umemiaa @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @blu3-l0v3r @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire @dee-writes-anime @megumisluciouslashes @peachyaeger @yourstru1y4ever
#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#boku no academia#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki x you#mha bakugou#bakugou x reader#bnha#mha#mha x reader#bnha x reader#izuku midoriya#mha izuku#bnha izuku#izuku x reader#izuku x y/n#katsuki x y/n#katsuki bakugo fluff#mha fluff#bnha fluff#kirishima x reader#kirishima eijirou#mha kirishima#bnha eijiro kirishima#shoto todoroki#mha shoto#shoto x reader
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sorry to country post on main but "IF YOU GO DOWN (I'M GOIN' DOWN TOO)" by Kelsea Ballerini is the Mallory siblings.
#ROTD#LOOK OK PICTURE WITH ME#the line ''hypothetically if you ever kill your husband/hand on the bible I'll be lying through my teeth''#is 100% Gabriel being a little shit (/pos) to Grim who is absolutely losing it with laughter#''Gabriel i will NOT kill my husband I love him'' ''but I would lie to the courts for you if you did'' ''I APPRECIATE THE GESTURE BUT-''#its ok tho gabriel has plenty of other murders he can cover for if he wants#also i havent decided if Gabriel follows the same religion the cult does or if he even follows any religion at all#but the bible doesnt mean anything to him <3#also the beginning two lines im picturing TEENY mallory siblings. like scenes from them growing up#secret ROTD lore here#gabriel is only two years older than grim#who is in turn two years older than Jim#also ''if i got an aisle with a mess i gotta clean up/i know you'll be showing up with bleach''#that is grim turning her back on reaperhood and gabriel taking on both of their roles thank you good night#(it is 10 am)
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Worst Logan is probably so touch starved
oh absolutely!!!!! thank you wonderful anon for sharing bc you’ve inspired this tiny drabble <3 extremely short but completely spurred on by my need to hug worst logan ty!
no warnings! just one use of slut by wade (ofc)
word count - around 1k
also, the song hear you me by jimmy eat world kept coming to me during this so! vibes maybe?
˚。⋆⟡♡⟡⋆。˚
Logan Howlett hates physical touch.
He hates the way people often go about trying to touch him, whether it be a brief tangle of fingers or a simple hug, he hates it.
He’s not entirely sure where it’s stemmed from, especially considering that as a younger man, he didn’t mind it. Maybe it’s because of the fact that people he cared for were always too far out of reach, leaving him a swirling mess filled with the aches that follow with unrequited feelings. Or, maybe its the fact that once he’d begun to open up to the people he considered family, he’d failed to protect them, only left to ruin their legacy with his destructive, lethal grief.
The reason doesn’t matter, not really, because he’s okay with being alone, nursing copious amounts of whisky shots to numb his loud thoughts.
His plan of rotting away in a bar alone goes to shit the minute Wade shows up and drags him into the shit show he’d landed himself in.
And somehow, after everything settles down, he finds himself stuck in a new universe, living with far too many bodies in Wade's apartment. He wonders why he stayed to begin with, especially with the way Wade pisses him off like no other, but he knows. In the back of his mind, he knows that the group of people he’s come to know have weaseled their way inside his guarded heart. Knowing doesn’t make it any easier to accept, though.
The red masked man often tells him he needs to get laid, get up and find someone to fix his grumpy, brooding act he has going on if he’s not going to let Wade do it himself (his words, not Logan’s).
And whenever he presses too much, Logan’s claws will unsheathe with that unmistakable snikt! before they dig into whatever limb of Wade’s is closest.
People had caught on very early that Logan dislikes physical contact, so it’s an unspoken rule by everyone to not push the man. Well, everyone except Wade— the man has been impaled by adamantium far too many times and never learns. That, or he just likes the pain a little too much.
So, it comes to a surprise to everyone when Logan doesn’t yell at you, sink his claws into a nearby surface in warning, or growl when you wrap the man in a hug the first time you meet him.
It’s at some party thrown by Wade— purely an excuse for the man to see Vanessa under the guise of a celebration for his newest hair system— or whatever the fuck he’d rambled on about, Logan wasn’t listening.
He’d been on his way out, the ghost taste of whisky tingling his tongue as he plans to waste away at the closest bar, when he catches a glimpse of something akin to an angel.
That something is you.
You— in all your pretty glory, a beacon of light that glows through the entirety of the dull apartment with just a single smile. Hair frames your face with wisps that kiss rosy-painted cheeks as you laugh at something someone says. A floral dress sits atop of curves that will absolutely haunt his nights. The scent of you tickles his heightened senses— a swirl of vanilla and honey so sweet that he suppresses a groan.
Logan believes then and there you’re a princess, an angel, something ethereal and enchanting. He wonders then why you’re friends with Wade.
He’s already speechless at the sight of you, wrapped up in thoughts, that he doesn’t realize you’re suddenly in front of him until an obnoxious voice startles him from the depths of his mind.
“Peanut! How could you leave without saying hi to sweetness here? Horribly rude if you ask me.”
Under any normal circumstance, Logan would’ve growled at the man before him, followed by a string of curses. However, he’s too occupied with his body thrumming at the sudden proximity and closeness to you.
“Hi!”
Of course, it makes sense that your voice matches your looks; sweet and syrupy with an addictive lilt.
Before he can utter a poorly spoken sentence, his body goes rigid, every muscle within him immediately tense as an unfamiliar weight is on him.
“Oh, peaches, you don’t want to do that, Wolvie isn’t much of a hugger—“ Wade’s warning comes too late, given the fact that you’re already wrapped around the man frozen in place.
And in an instant, the entire room is silent, because everyone here has witnessed Logan’s distaste when being touched, usually at the hands of Wade.
Logan’s body tingles with how still he is— waiting for that awful feeling to consume every bit of him at the touch of another.
Except, the feeling never comes.
Oblivious, your arms squeeze Logan’s waist as you hug him tightly, head resting against his chest, where his heart hammers maddeningly.
Why is he resisting the urge to bury his nose in your hair?
“I just want to say thank you. I don’t know how you did it, Wade won’t tell me. But I know you saved this universe and I couldn’t be more grateful!”
And, what?
He's confused. You’re speaking to him like you’ve known him your whole life, and he’s not used to this. He’s familiar with people regarding him with disgust or poorly conceived opinions, not this.
“I love my life, truly! My sweet little dog, my friends, my bakery, I couldn’t imagine it being taken away quicker than a breath, so thank you, Logan. Thank you so much!”
Genuine gratefulness coats your rambled words; it’s s then Logan realizes that you’ve pulled back, though your hands still rest causally on his hips, a kind smile gracing your face.
It also dawns on him that the dreaded feeling that often follows people touching him never came Instead, a pleasant tingle kisses the skin that your hands and body touched. Logan has never been more perplexed in his life.
The feel of you is taken away promptly, Wade yanking your body away from his and pulling you to his chest.
“Sorry sweetness, but Logan isn’t known for his love for hugs. He doesn’t like people touching him, it doesn’t end well. And, considering you’re you, I prefer you alive and healthy, not being turned into a human kabob.”
And at that, you feel horror fill you up, your heart sinking, face flushing.
Because oh my gosh, you never would have done that if you had known! but why did you anyway?! you always acted without thought and clearly it had caught up with you!
“I’m so, so unbelievably sorry! I— I didn’t mean to cross boundaries or make you uncomfortable! I’m so—“ before you can ramble yourself into further embarrassment, a deep voice cuts you off.
“S’okay.”
The words are simple, quick. Yet, the delivery of them shakes every person in the room to their core. The implication isn’t to be missed— Logan has never reacted that way to being touched before.
It’s quiet— the room watching with curiosity pooling their eyes and you’re filled to the brim with mortification. And then, the silence is gone when Wade gasps dramatically.
“Peanut, I’m hurt! I thought we had something special, I’ve been playing the long game. And now that’s ruined because some slut stole you away? With a hug? No offense, angel face, but I’m feeling catty.”
His nonsense snaps you out of your head and you roll your eyes, muttering a ‘shut up!’ before focusing on Logan’s face, the man currently glaring at Wade’s face.
“Logan, I’m so sorry. I really am—“
“Don’t worry about it.” He says, but what he really wants to say is please don’t be, your hug felt like home and didn’t make me feel sick for the first time in a long, long time.
You smile, weariness still present. The way your pretty lips stretch into a tiny grin, at him no less, he knows he’s got to get out of there, or he’ll spiral.
You’re about to speak again, but he can’t stop himself from following his instincts. He doesn’t say anything else before practically running out the door, his breath only releasing once he's out of your presence.
And while the man is gulping down numbing alcohol, mind a whirlwind of confusion at himself and youyouyou, the apartment is loud due to Wade having a breakdown.
“—Seriously! I get a claw to the stomach anytime I get to close but you waltz in and suddenly Logan is all for touch? I feel cheated on.”
“Wade, you’re completely overreacting. Maybe you should’ve warned me! I made a complete idiot of myself!” You huff, pacing the tiny living room to expel the anxiety coiling in your abdomen.
“No, baby. The only idiot is me for thinking he’d want me back!” Wade whines, dramatic as usual, and throws himself onto the couch, a move that lands himself in Vanessa’s lap. The woman pats his head in fake sympathy.
“Wade! Shut up, oh my god! He’s never gonna talk to me again!”
And unknowingly, both Logan and you are worrying yourselves sick about that damn hug and the spark that spread from your heart to his.
And maybe, just maybe, Logan doesn’t hate touch after all.
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett xmen#wolverine x reader#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine x you#logan howlett x you#logan xmen#x men movies#xmen origins#the worst logan x reader#worst wolverine#logan howlett fic#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett fanfiction#logan x reader#logan wolverine
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could we pleaseeee get more of the new girl au!
inspired by the new girl scene where they give cece the small towel :p
new girl au — in which you live with theodore, mattheo and lorenzo
from the bathroom, you can hear the faint, distant chatter of the boys in the living room, drowned out by the sound of the water splashing onto the cold shower tiles. you let out a deep sigh, running your fingers over your scalp to rinse away all the excess shampoo while giving yourself a quick, soothing massage.
you feel deeply relaxed, tension gradually melting away, but that peace quickly evaporates when you turn off the shower and stick your hand outside the shower curtain to grab your towel— only to realise you forgot to bring one.
“FUCK!” you scream out in frustration, instantly pulled out of your relaxed state as water drips from your bare skin and drenched hair, pooling around your feet. the chatter from the living room instantly stops, followed by a loud, confused “WHAT?” from enzo.
“I— UH, FORGOT MY TOWEL!” you yell back, urgently hoping they will grab one for you right away.
you then hear the sounds of shuffling feet, giggles and hushed murmurs, causing you to raise an eyebrow as you lean against the wall, arms crossed and your bare foot impatiently tapping on the wet floor. the door then abruptly swings open, the wood slamming against the wall, making you flinch as you see three blurred silhouettes through the shower curtain.
“thank god. took you guys long enough.” you grumble, reaching your arm past the curtain and snatching the towel from whoever is holding it.
“you’re a very lucky girl to have such sweet roommates, vero?” theo teases, making you roll your eyes as you wrap the rough towel around your dripping body, but your eyes instantly widen when you glance down.
“what the fuck is this?!” you yell, aggressively jerking the curtain open, nearly ripping it from the rod. your narrowed eyes are glaring at the three boys standing in front of you, your hands gesturing at the tiny towel wrapped around your wet body.
“oh… fuck.” mattheo murmurs under his breath, his eyes hungrily glued to your exposed body, just like the other two boys. their mouths hang half-open, not even bothering to hide the fact that they’re staring, with smug, lopsided smirks plastered on their stupid faces. your tits are nearly spilling out of the thin fabric with your ass barely covered, your arms desperately holding the towel up.
“you idiots! this is a hand towel!” you grunt in frustration, the tiny towel barely covering your body, leaving very little to the imagination. all three boys can feel their pants uncomfortably tighten, their eyes darkening at the sight of you while licking their lips.
“yeaaahh… sorry about that. this is the best we could find, i promise!” mattheo shrugs, a cocky, mischievous grin spreading across his face, but his eyes still not leaving your drenched body as you step out of the shower and shoot him a disapproving look.
“well, i think it fits perfectly, if you ask me. tsk, always so ungrateful...” enzo adds, giving you a teasing wink. you stride towards him, your brows furrowed in irritation, his self-satisfied expression only infuriating you further.
“sorry, what was that?” you retort, your head slightly tilted and a mocking expression of faux confusion on your face, daring enzo to repeat himself.
“i said, i think it fits—” but before he can finish his sentence, you’re wringing your hair out all over him, causing him to flinch as you make a wet, dripping mess all over his clothes.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!” enzo yells, his smug expression rapidly shifting into one of disbelief as he stumbles back while staring down at his soaked clothes. theo and mattheo quickly run off, knowing they’re next, their loud, giddy giggles echoing through the hallway.
you immediately sprint after them, your one hand tightly clutching the small towel to prevent it from sliding off, while your other hand holds your wet, dripping hair up, determined to not let them get away with this.
“NEXT TIME IT’LL BE A KNIFE I’M CHASING YOU WITH, YOU HEAR ME?!”
ੈ♡˳
reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡
#♡₊˚ for arina 🍒・₊#anon#new girl au#theodore nott#theo nott#mattheo riddle#lorenzo berkshire#enzo berkshire#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#mattheo riddle x reader#enzo berkshire x reader#lorenzo berkshire x reader#theo nott smut#theodore nott smut#mattheo riddle smut#enzo berkshire smut#lorenzo berkshire smut#theodore nott blurb#theo nott blurb#theodore nott drabble#theo nott drabble#theo nott imagine#theodore nott imagine#mattheo riddle blurb#mattheo riddle drabble#mattheo riddle imagine#lorenzo berkshire blurb#lorenzo berkshire drabble#slytherin boys smut
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