#that the only time he opens up about who he is as a person is when confronted with Yamamoto's suicide attempt and Enma being bullied

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic Idea: Petal to the Metal.

It's starts off simple enough.

Tucker realizes that, with the map from the Far Frozen, there was a chance they could find an earth similar to their own within the Infinite Realms. The only difference? It would be a few years ahead of their timeline.

If they happen to pop over there and gather "helpful" tips, like "What were the lottery winning numbers in 2008?" or "What companies were the best to invest in the early 2000s?" then who would be the wiser? It's not like they were stealing anything.

They just put one foot in front of the others at the starting line. Some may say cheating (Sam) but Tucker prefered to be prepared. It didn't take too long for Danny to agree.

A way to guarantee wealth? Sucess? Heck, they may even be able to "discover" cures for deadly illnesses. It would be rather selfish of them not to use the map for the greater good.

Sam chose to stay behind, stating she was already rich and didn't need to cheat into more gold. Tucker personally thought she didn't understand the common folk like the two boys.

The plan was simple. They had already located the suitable earth; they would go in, spend a weekend sightseeing (and gathering info), and then return home. As far as their parents knew, they were going to a concert in another state, having bought fake tickets and hotel rooms to sell them. It took a lot of begging on both sixteen year olds part but eventually neither parent had denied them the trp and off they went.

Danny had even attacked a miniature portal ray to their beat-up car, having taken inspiration from the time Jonny 13 had modified his bike back in the day. He had blown it up after helping the biker win back Kitty, but he hadn't forgotten about it.

They hoped that a car like their own wouldn't stand out too badly in 2020, praying that people would just assume them to bepoor. How different could cars be in such a short time anyway?

The bags were packed, the car was filled, Danny had set the miniature portal, and the two drove out of the city limits to fire it up. It required a lot of speed, since Tucker's plain toyota wasn't a space ship design to travel the death diminsion.

Danny had offered to drive, seeing as Tucker hated being behind the wheel on long road trips, and once his parents could see them- Mr. Foley didn't like his son lending his car to his friends. One never knows what could happen with teenagers- he had switch seat with Danny.

Danny, who has Fenton blood, had him put the petals to the metal and had no problems raising their speed to the one hundred needed for the miniature portal to work. The plan was perfect.

The plan fell apart when the portal opened in front of a clown about to put on a show for a large crowd. They ran him over with their car.

"Omg! You hit a clown!" Tucker screams watching the body roll off the windsheild.

Danny's grip on the stirring wheel was knuckle white but his eyes were narrowed in satisfication. "Good"

"No not good! This isn't Freakshow! That was a random clown doing a show and we killed him!" Tucker screams as Danny puts the car in reverse and runs him over again.

"Danny!"

Outside the vechile people were screaming, lots of them pointing and one clear voice ran above the rest.

"They killed Joker!"

Danny reached down and flickered on his favoritedriving song as various people started to climb on the stage. Poeple dressed in strange clothing.

Was that a Bat?

"Hold on Tuck!" is his own warning before Tokyo Drift started blaring through the speakers as he slammed his foot on the petal again. They blew through some barrels of green liquid and drifted off the stage onto the road with Danny sining at the top of his lungs.

Tucker could barely hear himself scream as people jumped out fo the way unprepare for a Driving Fenton like Amity Park was.

Maybe Sam was right. This was a terrible idea.

[verstappenverse]

What We Never Said

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max Verstappen, your best friend, has always been a constant in your life. But when jealousy surfaces over a recent date, it stirs emotions he hadn’t quite confronted. Is there more between you two than just friendship?

1.9k words / Masterlist

Max had always been good at keeping his cool. On the track where everything is measured in tenths of a second and a moment’s hesitation can cost everything, keeping a level head was what set him apart from the others. But lately away from the track something had been gnawing at him, disrupting his usually unshakeable focus.

It wasn’t new this feeling it had been there for a long time, simmering quietly beneath the surface. Max knew that. He was painfully aware of it in every shared glance, every late-night conversation, and in the way your laugh could instantly pull him out of his darkest moods. For years you’d both kept things easy, uncomplicated, two best friends never crossing the invisible line that tethered you close but never too close.

At least that’s how it was supposed to be.

It wasn’t until a few nights ago when he overheard a casual comment at a party that Max realised how fragile that balance really was.

“I didn’t know you’d gone on a date,” your friend had said her voice light and teasing.

Max wasn’t eavesdropping intentionally he had been halfway through a conversation with another driver when the words hit him like a punch to the gut. He barely registered what was being said to him after that. His attention had been locked on you, watching the subtle shift in your posture as you casually replied.

“Yeah,” you said, like it was nothing. “We went for dinner and drinks, it was really nice...he was nice.”

Max’s hand had tightened around his drink. Nice. The word grated against Max’s nerves. The conversation around him faded into white noise as his mind fixated on what you hadn’t said, on what you’d kept from him. A date? You’d gone on a date? Since when did you go on dates without mentioning it to him? It felt like the ground beneath him had shifted, like something fundamental had changed, though he couldn’t quite explain why.

For the rest of the evening Max stayed quiet his usual easy-going demeanour replaced by something darker, something more brooding. You didn’t seem to notice or if you did, you didn’t bring it up. But every time he looked at you all he could think about was someone else sitting across from you, someone else making you laugh, someone else getting to know the parts of you that Max had always believed were his to cherish.

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

He thought about it more than he should have over the following days, a slow burn of frustration and confusion twisting in his chest. It wasn’t that he had a claim over you but there had always been something unspoken between the two of you, and hearing about you with someone else, someone who wasn’t him, made it feel like everything was slipping through his fingers.

Max found himself at your door days later, heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the adrenaline of racing. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say only that the unresolved tension between you needed addressing.

The door opened and there you were, smiling like always, the kind that usually made his stomach flip, but today it only made him more tense. “Hey you,” you greeted stepping aside to let him in.

He walked in without hesitation, but his usual ease was nowhere to be found. He hadn’t been able to shake the image of you with someone else. Max had tried to push it down, to convince himself that it was none of his business. You were your own person, free to do whatever – or whomever – you wanted. But the truth was, it did bother him. A lot more than he cared to admit.

He dropped onto your couch more tense than he’d been in weeks. You sat down next to him, your brow furrowing as you picked up on his mood. Max was many things, but unreadable was not one of them. He wore his emotions on his sleeve and right now you could sense the storm brewing behind his usually calm exterior. His jaw was clenched, and you could see the tension radiating off of him in waves.

“What’s up with you?” you asked, tone light but probing. “You seem… off.”

He wanted to shrug it off, say it was nothing, but the words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t pretend anymore, not with you.

Instead he turned toward you, his blue eyes sharp “Why didn’t you tell me you went on a date?”

Your expression shifted subtly, surprise, then confusion trying to place his tone, “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

A beat of silence passed, Max could hear the faint hum of the city outside your apartment window, but inside, the air felt thick weighted with something unsaid.

“I overheard you the other night,” he continued, his voice rougher than he intended.

You blinked, processing his words. “You overheard?”

Max nodded, watching you closely waiting for some kind of explanation that would ease the knot in his chest. But you just sat there, not defensive, not guilty, just calm.

You hadn’t kept it from him on purpose. In fact you didn’t even think it was that big of a deal. The date had been fine, nice, but nothing extraordinary, certainly not enough to warrant telling Max about it right away.

“It wasn’t anything serious,” you said after a long pause. “Just dinner. I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

Max exhaled sharply running a hand through his hair. “And if it had been serious?”

Now you were even more confused. Your eyes met his then, a flicker of something passed between you. “Why does it matter?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Why did it matter? He wasn’t your boyfriend. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what he was anymore, except confused. Maybe a little scared. The kind of fear that sinks deep, the kind that makes you realise you’ve been taking something for granted.

“Because it does,” he muttered quietly, his voice tight.

You leaned back slightly, studying him. There was something different about the way you looked at him now, more attuned to whatever was hanging between you. You’d always known that Max was protective of you, but this? This was something else entirely.

“You’ve never cared before,” you said, your voice quieter now, like you were piecing together a puzzle neither of you had fully acknowledged.

Max hesitated then sighed. “Maybe I should’ve.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and they hung in the air, heavier than anything he’d ever admitted to you before.

You didn’t respond right away. The silence stretched, uncomfortable in a way that it never had been between the two of you. And then, after what felt like an eternity you leaned forward resting your elbows on your knees hands clasped in front of you.

“Is that what this is all about? Me going on a date and not telling you?” You paused, your eyes searching his face,“Or is it something else?”

He didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. Because of course it was something else. It had always been something else. He just hadn’t let himself admit it not until now, not until the idea of you with someone else had thrown everything into sharp, painful focus, and maybe that wasn't fair but he didn't know how he could go back now.

Max stood, pacing the length of your living room his mind racing. “I don’t know,” he finally muttered, though it was a lie. He did know. He just wasn’t sure how to say it, cross the line you’d both been skirting around, to take years of friendship and lay it bare without ruining everything.

“Max,” you said softly, your voice pulling him out of his thoughts. “Look at me.” You needed to hear him say it. You needed to know if what you felt for him was mutual or if you were reading too much into this.

He stopped pacing but didn’t turn around right away. His fists clenched at his sides, and for the first time in a long time, Max felt completely out of control. It wasn’t like driving where every move was calculated, where he could read the car, the track, the competition with precision. This was messier, rawer, and there was no strategy for it.

Finally, he turned to face you his blue eyes meeting yours. There was no running from it anymore, no pretending that what he felt for you was anything less than what it really was.

“I didn’t like it,” he said quietly, the admission catching in his throat. “Hearing you talk about him… I hated it.”

You didn’t look away but your eyes softened, your expression still guarded.

“Why?” you asked, though your tone told him you already knew the answer.

Max let out a shaky breath. “Because… I’ve always wanted it to be me.”

The confession hung in the air, and for the first time with you Max felt truly exposed, vulnerable. The invisible line between you two, the one he’d always danced around, was gone.

All the emotions you’d been burying for so long, all the feelings you’d tried to convince yourself weren’t there, came rushing to the surface.

You walked toward him slowly, and for a moment, Max wasn’t sure what you were going to say, but when you reached him you didn’t say anything. Instead you just looked at him, really looked at him, like you were seeing him in a way you hadn’t before.

“I’ve always wanted it to be you, too,” you whispered, the words so soft he almost missed them.

“I didn’t want to ruin things between us,” Max continued, “I didn’t want to lose you. But hearing about you with someone else… it made me realise that maybe I’ve already lost you and I didn’t even know it.”

You took a step closer to him your heart pounding in your chest. “You haven’t lost me."

His heart clenched, and before he could stop himself, he reached out, gently cupping your face with his hand. Your skin was warm beneath his palm and for the first time in days the tension in his chest eased slightly.

You didn’t pull away, you stepped closer eyes never leaving his. It was as if all the years of unspoken tension between you had finally come to a head, and neither of you could ignore it anymore.

He leaned in, slowly, cautiously, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t. And when his lips finally met yours it was like everything he hadn’t been able to say, everything he’d been holding back for years, poured into that kiss.

It wasn’t hurried or desperate. It was slow, deliberate, a moment stretched out between two people who had spent too long pretending they didn’t want this. Max’s arms wrapped around you as the kiss deepened, but still, there was a softness to it a tenderness that spoke of the years of friendship, of trust.

When the kiss broke, you both stood there inches apart breathing in the moment. Max's hand lingered on your cheek his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

“You know,” you whispered, smiling against his lips teasing, “this is probably something you should’ve told me ages ago.”

Max let out a soft laugh, his forehead resting against yours. “Yeah, well” he said, his voice low and teasing back, “I guess this means I can stop pretending I’m okay with you dating other people now," you laughed softly as he smirked "but I wasn’t too worried, everything’s about timing isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, your lips brushing his. “I guess you got it right.”

"Finally," he whispered with a grin, before pulling you into another kiss.

[guiltyasdave]

one of me is cute, but two though?

pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x mutant!f!reader

word count: ~2.5k

summary: Your cat-like mutation gives your life some cat-like qualities... like going through heats.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, reader has hair but no visual descriptions beyond that, cat-like mannerisms, no use of y/n, Logan lifts reader up but he's superhumanly strong, so-, alternating pov, established relationship, unprotected p in v, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, breeding kink, praise kink, a lot of animalistic behavior due to their mutations, talk of a potential pregnancy, a smidge of angst because of who i am as a person

a/n: i wrote this as a sequel to help me hold onto you, but it can be read as a standalone. i'm just in love with cat!reader, what can i say.

huge shoutout to @sizzlingcloudmentality who doesn't even like logan like that, but still patiently listens to me ramble about him nonstop. you're an angel <3

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics!

find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates :)

Usually, on your days alone, you lounge around in the living room. Sun spills through the large windows, illuminating the space and drawing patterns of light and shadow over the hardwood floor.  

More often than not, Logan comes home to find you curled up on the carpet, dozing in the sun’s warmth, barely awake and slowly moving with its shine as it travels across the room. Your skin glowing, soft breaths purring from your chest. 

He likes to sit down next to you, watching you twitch with the sound of his footsteps. Sleep tends to pull you back under when he reaches out to gently ruffle your hair. He likes to wait until you roll over, bumping into the solid mass of his body. 

Tries to stifle a laugh when you blink your eyes slowly, cocking your head in confusion at the unexpected obstacle in your way. Watches the recognition sinking in and a smile slowly spreading across your face as you sit up. Catches you when you nestle into his waiting arms, a Hey, baby murmured against your lips before they connect with his. 

Nothing is more peaceful than the feeling of your body against him, to be able to run his fingertips over your soft skin while you bury your head in the crook of his neck. It settles in his chest like a weight, an anchor of warmth. The security that you’re his, that you’re safe, right there with him. 

He loves these late afternoons, soaking up the last rays of sunlight with you. Relishing in your slow, unhurried movements, in the way you press yourself against him, in your bright smile between kisses. 

Today is not a usual day. You had been restless as soon as you woke up, your whole body yearning for Logan in a way that is bordering on painful. Your skin is burning, a faintly feverish sensation simmering inside of you, steadily growing as the hours tick by. 

By the time you hear Logan’s car pull up out front, your whole core is aflame with need. The air is thick with the scent of you, so much of you and so little of him. You’ve spent most of the day pacing the cabin, burying your nose in his clothes, curling up on his side of the bed, letting the scent that’s permeating his pillow cloud your senses. It had brought you a brief sense of relief, only for the aching need inside of you to come back with renewed force mere seconds later. 

His nostrils flare when he opens the door, a growl emitting from his chest. You lunge yourself at him without a second thought, legs wrapping around his midst and holding on tight. The steady, blissfully warm embrace of his arms soothes the worst ache instantly. His eyes find yours, pools of darkness reflecting between you. Your breath is going fast, small pants fanning against his lips as you grind on him, desperate for more, more, more. 

Logan holds you with ease, the thought of his biceps bulging sending another wave of arousal through you. 

“Is it time again?” he asks, the deep rumble of his voice traveling straight to your core, stoking the flames. 

You nod, breathlessly, a small mewl escaping when he teasingly bucks his hips into you. 

“Poor kitten.” One hand soothingly scratches the soft skin behind your ears, drinking in the blissful expression on your face that you respond with. “Let’s go take care of you.” 

“Please.” It comes out in a whiny plea, one that pulls at his heartstrings. One that fills him with the instinctual urge to protect you, to give you whatever you need to ban that desperation from your voice. It mixes with his own arousal that’s clawing up his chest, a beast that he can barely contain with how eagerly you welcome it, how you ask for it. 

He keeps you in his arms, carrying you towards the bedroom in long strides. Every time you get jostled by his steps and your core bumps into the growing bulge underneath his jeans, you whine against his neck. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, ripping holes through the flannel and sending delicious pinpricks of pain through him. 

He shushes you gently, tipping your head back up to kiss you again. You respond with hunger, your teeth catching on his bottom lip, demanding more. 

“I’ve waited all day,” you complain, pouting at him between kisses. “Wanted you so badly.” 

He hums, heart clenching at your expression while his cock twitches at the desperate need dripping from your every movement. “I know, baby. I’m here now, don’t worry.” 

Kicking the bedroom door shut without looking, he turns around and pushes you against the dark wood. Trapped between the door and the press of his hips, you whine, hands working  almost frantically to take off his flannel. Logan leans back a fraction, letting you push the fabric down his arms. The scratch of your nails against his bare skin has goosebumps following in its wake. You’re not drawing blood, yet. He can’t wait for when you do. 

The heat of him is all engulfing, wrapping you up like a blanket. Finally he’s here, close enough to taste, to smell, his skin burning almost as hot as your own under your fingertips. You need him, not satisfied until it feels like your bodies are molding into one. 

Urgent fingers drag over fabric, frantically tugging at hems, only disturbed by hungry kisses and panting into each other’s mouths. Ultimately, his bare torso is pressed against yours, muscles rippling under his skin and your fingertips. You lick a generous stripe from his shoulder over his neck, affectionately nipping at his skin, before you find his mouth once more. 

Another groan erupts from his chest, vibrating against your tongue, before he moves you once more. Effortlessly carrying you over to the bed and dropping you onto the sheets, shamelessly staring as your tits bounce with the movement. 

His hands toy with his obnoxiously large belt buckle, your eyes zeroing in on the action as you’re kicking your own pants off. A moan escapes you when he finally pushes his jeans down, taking his underwear in the same motion, his cock springing free before your hungry eyes. It’s a sight that you’ll never get used to. Huge, just like the rest of him. 

He’s back onto you in the blink of an eye, so fast and yet not fast enough with how desperately you need him. He captures your lips once more while his fingers slide down your body. Stopping briefly to toy with your nipples, but quickly moving on until he’s right at your entrance, collecting your slick and rubbing a fingertip over your clit. It’s featherlight, so good and yet not nearly enough. You need all of him, full force, not holding back, smothering every atom of you the way only he’s able to. 

“Logan, don’t tease.” 

Your voice breaks over the last syllable, desperation painting your tone. 

He chuckles out a sorry, so clearly not sorry at all, loving you like this, all needy and pliant for him. Just waiting for the wild, animalistic side of you to emerge, the side that doesn’t plead and just takes.

“What do you need, kitten?” 

Still rubbing soft circles into your clit and greedily drinking in the sight of your writhing, Logan’s other hand possessively curls around your chin, his thumb caressing the corner of your mouth. Tipping your face up, he meets your eyes, your pupils blown so wide that they seem entirely black.

“Need you to fill me up, it hurts so bad, please.” You’re grinding against him, desperate to be closer, to feel every inch of his skin, to finally get him inside of you.

He allows himself a cheeky grin, one that you’re not sure if you want to kiss or slap off his face. “Yeah?” He’s so close, his voice a quiet rasp against your lips. “Want me to pump you full, huh? Give you a whole litter?”

A violent shiver runs through your whole body at his words, your eyes rolling back into your head and your hips bucking up from the mattress. Mewls of please fall from your lips as you reach for him, your grip digging into his waist so forcefully that this time, your fingernails leave deep, red scratches on his skin. 

The pain of it surges through him, flaring up and dying back down as his skin stitches itself back together. He can’t help bucking into you, mirroring your movement. He loves when you turn into this version of yourself, all wild animal, feral to get what you want. 

He can’t deny you a moment longer, not when you bare your teeth at him in a snarl, lost in the haze of your heat. He flips you over like a doll, husks a laugh at your surprised squeal that morphs into a moan when he pulls your hips up harshly, putting you on all fours. A loud hiss escapes him when his cock rubs against your folds. You’re incredibly wet, your slick already sticking to your upper thighs and coating him within seconds. 

“My poor baby,” he coos, a hand soothingly rubbing over the feverishly hot skin of your backside. It turns into a groan when you only arch your back further, your thighs splaying wider apart. You’re putting yourself on full display for him, all needy, all his for the taking. All his.

Sinking in slowly, finally, he grits his teeth to keep from thrusting too harshly into your tight heat. He knows how sensitive you are in your current state, wants to give you time to adjust, to get used to the stretch. It’s not what you want, obviously, as you push your hips back against him, fucking yourself open on his cock. You’re gasping, breaths punching from your lungs, but your movements don’t falter. He meets you with a tentative thrust, chest swelling at the high moan it elicits from you.

“You still want more, huh kitten?”

You’d scoff at his teasing, at the ridiculous nickname, if he didn’t make you feel so fucking good right now. The tension, the emptiness that had been aching deep inside of you all day, finally subsides. A different kind of warmth is building inside your body, slowly spreading through you. Not the burning need that had been eating you up, but deep bliss that is blossoming from your core, now that your body finally gets what it’s been craving.

Reaching back blindly, your fingers wrap around one of his wrists where his hand is gripping your flesh. You don’t have to tell him what you want, he lets go to intertwine his fingers with yours instantly. You feel so safe, so connected to him like this. He bends down, presses kisses into your neck, nips at the skin playfully. 

“Logan… Please,” you whine, desperate for him to hit that spot inside of you that only he seems to be able to reach. “Please, just—”

“I know.” It’s whispered into your skin, sealed with another kiss, before he straightens back up. 

One hand finds your neck in an iron grip and pushes your upper body down into the mattress. His thrusts become deeper, slowing down each time he bottoms out and grinding into you, until you can feel him against your cervix. It’s exactly what you wanted, exactly what your body is asking for. You’re gushing, soaking the both of you with your wetness, your pussy clenching around him in an attempt to pull him in even deeper. 

He growls above you, his other hand wrapping around your hip to steady you. To hold you right where he wants you, as he speeds up, and makes you take it. You’re trying to push back against him, to meet his movements, but he’s heavy against you, each thrust pushing you forward before his bruising grip pulls you back into him. 

You cry out his name again and again, the only word on your mind right now, your whole world reduced to this moment, to him and you. The only other sounds are the wet slap of his skin against yours, and his growls behind you, growing louder with every thrust. Evidence of how the line between man and beast is blurring, how his need is becoming just as animalistic as your own. 

He’s filling you so perfectly, your slick walls stretched around his length, like they were made to take him. Heat, pulsing inside of you, igniting you, blazing through your veins. It has never been like this with anyone else. You’re tightening around him, the fire brightening further, until it’s about to consume you. 

“Logan,” you whimper, knuckles tightening with your grip on the bed sheets. “I’m gonna—” 

He pulls you up instantly, one arm wrapping around you, holding you against his sweat-slicked chest. Nuzzling into your neck, the scratch of his beard almost too much for your already overwhelmed senses, while his hand’s snaking down to your clit, swiping through the mess of your arousal. 

“Give it to me, kitten, come on.” You feel it reverberating where his chest is pressed into your back, feel his breath hot against your skin. 

He’s everywhere, all-encompassing, as the tension in your core pulls impossibly tighter. One more thrust, the angle different than before, and it snaps. You shatter with a scream, your nails sinking into his arm, your whole body trembling while your walls pulse around him, pulling him over the edge with you. 

His own roar is dampened by the skin of your neck against his mouth as he grinds himself deeper, coating your insides with his release. Your hormones spike in reaction, pushing your own orgasm to new heights, until you’re nothing but pure bliss, almost boneless in his arms. 

He holds you tightly, lets the aftershocks slowly subside while he whispers praises in your ear. How good you feel, how well you take him, how you were made for him. How much he loves you. 

Never letting go of his hold on you, he slowly starts moving. Gently maneuvers you until you’re wrapped in blankets and his arms. A kiss on your forehead, another whisper of I love you. 

“Do you think it’s gonna work this time?” 

Your voice is quiet, muffled against his chest where your head rests. He traces your face gently with a fingertip, watches you lean into the touch. 

“I don’t know, baby. Maybe.” 

It’s bittersweet, imagining a family with you. You age slower, but not as slowly as him. God only knows how things would be for a child of yours.

“Picture it, though.” You beam up at him, your eyes shining so brightly that he has no choice but to smile back. “A tiny version of me. Or you.”

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a reblog or a comment. it absolutely makes my day every time and i'd love to know your thoughts!

[thinkinonsense]

i just listened to sabrina's new album and oh my god the song slim pickins is such a song that was written from daydreaming about lumberjack!logan, oh and the recent fic that you reblogged was just so yummy and perfect for that song especially the lyrics "a boy who's jacked and nice" like god having to settle down for less because nobody can be him 😭😭😭 need him expeditiously im afraid

it's slim pickins

lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: yearning!! fluff, tiny nsfw conversation (nothing graphic)

a/n: this request couldn't have come in at a better time because i'm seeing sabrina on opening night of her tour tomorrow night!! <3

masterlist

"am i just destined to be alone forever?"

another friday night in the hole in the wall bar outside of town. another date gone horribly wrong. your question hangs heavy in the air as you gossip to your best friend who's bartending tonight.

"you keep picking douche bags." she answers without missing a beat.

"well, that's fuckin' rude." you slur slightly, sipping on your third fruity drink tonight.

"well, it's fuckin' true." she smiles, looking over your shoulder at a group of men that walked in. "why don't you go talk to one of them? they look hot."

you spin around in your stool to see a group of lumberjack workers. these were the men that you worked with, you can't flirt with them.

"i work with those guys!" you hiss.

"sooo...?" she smirks.

both of you quickly end the conversation with the five guys approach the bar. the last thing you needed was for these guys to see the desperate and pathetic look on your face. quickly, you rummage through your purse for some cash to put down.

"what are you doing here, doll face?" a familiar voice asks.

you look up and see the most handsome of the men, in front of you; logan. twice your size, buff, toned, tan... god, you had such a crush on him. never in a million years would you go after him though, he's too good to want a girl like you. you were just a friend. he make small talk with you, laughed at your jokes, calls you little nicknames, and refills the coffee pot for you but thats what friends do, right?

"oh... um, i'm just-"

"she's been sitting here moaning and bitching to me all night about her horrible date." your best friend smiles then introduces herself to logan with a handshake.

"thanks asshole." you mumble under your breath at her, making logan chuckle.

"tough night?" he asks, looking down at you in a way that makes heat rises up your face.

"kinda, but i'll save you all the gory details." you admit, sliding off the tall stool a little ungracefully. "have a good night, logan."

"wait, doll face." he says, grabbing your arm to balance you. "wanna talk about it? i'm sure your friend here is busy."

the alcohol let him take you to one of the booths. all the other men noticed logan and you sitting together, definitely making mental notes to tease you both on monday.

"so, what's on your mind?" logan asks, taking a swig of his beer.

"it's nothing really..." your mouth says one thing but your phone says another; practically buzzing off the table.

"you sure?" he raises a brow.

"uh... yeah?" you sound confused as you peak at the notification. an annoyed groan falls from your lips as you slam the phone back down and sink into the booth. "why? why? why?"

"why what?" he squints.

"be honest, do i have dumbass written on my forehead?" you sigh, hazily looking over at logan. the question threw him off guard; unsure if you're joking or not.

"no." he answers.

" well, i sure feel like one. every guy i've gone out with is either the most obnoxious asshole i've ever met who's still hung up on his ex or he's absolutely perfect but he's just not ready for a commitment right now? what the fuck does that even mean?"

all of your drunk rambling surprised logan. at work, he's only seen your shy personality as you scribble down numbers and log them into spreadsheets. this was a completely different side of you.

"i know what you're thinking, 'why not just try dating a woman?'. well, i fucking would if this town wasn't stuck in the 50's, except the men aren't going to war in order to get away from you, instead they just run back in between their ex's thighs and pull that 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit."

it was getting harder for logan not to crack at your silly yet, adorable expressions as you rant.

"and the worst part is that they can't even get a woman to orgasm." you say a little quieter. logan stores that quote in his pocket for another time. "a few weeks ago, i literally had a man in my bed who didn't know the difference between their, there, and they're! i don't know who's stupider, him for not knowing or me for letting him give me the worst head in my life."

if you were even a little sober, this would be mortifying. sitting in front of your work crush and spilling pathetic details of your love life to him. if you were even a little sober, you would have notice his eyes turn dark and lustful under the dim bar lighting. logan couldn’t fathom that you were having trouble in your love life.

"sounds like it's slim pickins out there."

"you have no idea." you sigh.

"if it makes you feel any better, i don't think that you're stupid."

"you're just saying that to be polite. trust me, everyone thinks i'm an idiot for taking these guys back every time. im just like my mom, my sisters, my friends, and every other girl i know. we make up excuses for their shitty behavior because we are afraid to be alone."

logan could see tears forming in your waterline, about to roll down your cheek. it hurt him to see you so heartbroken over these losers. everyday at work, you came in like a ray of fucking sunshine. you didn't deserve to be treated like this.

"it's not your fault that those asshole don't know how to treat a woman." he sighs, leaning forward in an attempt to comfort you.

"i know, i know..." your voice was cracking and you didn't want logan to see you so vulnerable. suddenly, you rise from the booth. "thanks for listening, logan."

"where do you think you're going, doll face?" he asks, following you out the door.

"should head home." you mumble, pulling up the number of a car service about twenty minutes out.

"let me give you a ride home." he offers. "you've been drinking too much."

it's late, you're exhausted and heartbroken so, you let him help you into his truck. it's kinda old but full of character, like logan.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" logan asks, breaking the silence in the car. "still sad?"

you shrug. "think i'm just going to become a nun."

he tried, he really did, but he had to laugh.

"sweetheart, there's no need to become a nun."

"well, i'm never going to find the man i'm looking for so, might as well join the sisterhood."

"what are you looking for in this dream man?"

logan's question has your eyes wondering over to where his left hand sets on the wheel and his right on thigh. the images of what his hands could do flood your fuzzy mind.

"j-just a good guy who's um, who's kind, jacked... respectful, good with his hands...."

it was shameless, your staring that is. logan worried you might get drool on the car seat, not that he would mind.

"hm... those seem like simple requirements there."

"apparently not." you giggle. "it's fine, though. i'm sure the nuns will be friendly."

"still thinking about joining the 'sisterhood'?" he asks, pulling up to your drive way.

"maybe... i'll give it twenty-four hours and if he doesn't come knocking on my door, i'll just buy a chasity belt and go off the grid with the nuns." your smile warmed his cold bitter heart. "thanks for the ride, lo. i'll see you monday."

as logan watches you fumble with your keys and make your way inside, he fights an internal battle over his feelings. he has had a crush on you since the day the two of you first met. by the end of the week, you had baked him some cupcakes, babbling about how you do this for all the new employees, which was far from the truth he later learned.

you captured his heart. even when he tried to burry his feelings for you, when logan looked at you, his world stood still for a moment. he looked forward to all your silly jokes in the break room or the ridiculous gossip you would tell him when he lingered outside of your office door. he couldn't let you slip away into the arms of another asshole who didn't deserve you.

before logan could comprehend what he was doing, his feet lead him up to your door, knocking twice. the wooden door opened and he knew he made the right decision.

there you were in your light blue and grey plaid pajamas with a cupcake in your hand and vanilla frosting on your bottom lip. logan had never seen you look prettier.

"hey? did i leave something in the–"

in the blink of an eye, logan’s hands reach up to caress your jaw, leaning in until his mouth engulfs yours. the taste of vanilla and alcohol surrounded both of you. forgetting the cupcake in your hand, dropping it to reach up and pull logan closer. kissing him was like drinking a glass of wine after a long day. no more stress or anxiety over anyone else’s bullshit. the two of you gasp against each others lips, catching your breath.

“i could be the good guy, you know?” logan pants, now forever addicted to your taste. “i could be the good guy for you.”

your heart fluttered as you stared up at his pretty hazel eyes, twirling a piece of his hair around your finger. this had to be a very realistic dream, thats the only answer to this.

“you would do that for me, logan?” your delicate voice could bring him to his knees, worshiping the ground you walk on.

“i would do anything for you, honey.” he whispers, leaning back in to kiss you again. maybe your dream guy wasn't as far away as you thought?

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - A Phone Call (Short Drabble) Author's Notes: I wanted to try something new. Warnings: MDNI, Angst

"What do you mean I can't transfer?" 

"Look, I think we should give it a little more time bef—“

"I think enough time has passed. They don't want me. And I refuse to work with a team who doesn’t want to work with me.”

“Again, I completely understand, but—“

“But what, Kate? I don’t get why you can’t just move me to another te—“

“BECAUSE THERE’S NO OTHER TEAM!”

…

…

“What?”

“You know how hard it was to get you on the 141. If you leave now, before the trial period is over, you’re just going to prove everyone right. That you’re difficult to work with. That you can’t do your job. That you don’t deserve to be here.” 

…

…

“But Kate… they don’t want me.”

“Do you know why? It sounded like things were fine in the beginning, so what happened?”

“Kate, if I knew, don’t you think I would have done something about it?” 

“I know John and these guys. They don’t do anything without a good reason. So tell me, can’t you think of anything? Anything you could have done?”

…

“C’mon… think. Did you give them a reason?”

“Kate, do you know something?”

“Look, I’m only telling you this because I know you didn’t mean to.”

“What?”

“Early on, John had mentioned that you tended to blur the line between work and friendship. He said they didn't necessarily mind but, and I’m not blaming you, but… maybe you... I don't know... overdid it.”

…

“Does that sound plausible?”

“And if it does… what should I do then?”

“Look, John hasn’t mentioned anything about transferring you yet so they don't completely hate you. So, if I were you, I’d stick it out for the rest of the year. Earn that offer and use it as leverage to join another team.”

“And how do I do that? If what you’re saying is true, I’m pretty sure I’m not getting that offer.”

“Go over your contract and follow it to a T.  Don’t do more, don't do less than what’s outlined there. Stop trying to be their friend and just do your job.” 

…

“Got it?”

“Yeah… got it.”

“And kid?”

“Yeah Kate?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. This field is complicated, okay? Friends are rare while co-workers are just... more reliable, so don't take it personal.”

“Mhmm.”

“Just tough it out and… I’ll keep on the lookout if anything changes or opens up, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Take care.”

“You too.”

Word Count: 406

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[gyubakeries]

𝟲:𝟮𝟱 𝗔𝗠 | k.mg

word count: 1.9k contents: mingyu x afab!reader , domestic fluff , hr manager!mingyu , lawyer!reader , morning cuddles , writing this makes me crave it even more

mornings used to be the worst part of your day. when you were an overworked lawyer with your firm dumping cases on you left, right and center, waking up at the ass crack of dawn felt like the worst form of torture.

your job had thrown you into an endless rut of work, eat soggy instant ramen for your one meal of the day, get three hours of restless sleep, and repeat it all over again. you barely had a social life, despite your friends' various attempts to take you clubbing or shopping.

you were at the lowest point of your life.

then came a break in your monotonous routine in the form of a vacancy in the legal department of SVT Inc., a famous advertising and media agency your best friend, soonyoung, worked at. without even thinking twice, you applied for the job.

fortunately, you were the perfect fit for the company and were immediately recruited one week after your interview. you instantly quit your previous job and geared up for your new one.

things were finally looking up for you. and as if your life couldn't get any better, you met mingyu.

mingyu was the tall, broad, puppy-faced HR head at SVT Inc. He had this boyish charm and warm aura that made everyone around him feel secure and loved.

he would bake cookies and (your favorite) brownies to distribute amongst all the employees and give the best gifts to people on their birthdays. to add on to his kind nature, he was also great at his job, smoothly handling disputes and sincerely working to resolve any grievances the employee had.

it was only a matter of time before you fell for him. you kept your feelings to yourself, though, because you didn't expect him to reciprocate them. plus, it would only make the work environment awkward if he got to know how you felt and he didn't feel the same way.

but what surprised you was the way he showed up at your desk one evening, after everyone had left work, and shyly asked you out on a dinner date.

since that fateful night, your life had been turned upside-down.

loving mingyu and being loved by him was the best thing that had happened to you. he filled up all the empty and lonely gaps in your life with his sunshine-bright laughter. you were determined to make this relationship last till the day you took your last breath, because you were sure that no one would love you as good as mingyu did, and neither would you love anyone else the same way.

you had also impacted his life in a good way. in all his past relationships, his partners left him because he was 'too much'. 'too much' in the way that he always showered his partner with love and gifts. 'too much' in the way that he'd go out of his way to cook for his partner, or do the chores at home so that they wouldn't have to lift a finger. his old partners had all felt like he was coddling them too much.

he had too much love to give.

but then he met you, a person who had never been loved right, so how could he help himself from falling for you? more so when you let him love you the way he wanted to?

you two were the perfect match for each other, with one learning how to love and be loved, and the other finally being able to love without feeling conscious about being overwhelming.

now, mornings were the best part of your day, because mornings with mingyu were magical.

your mornings went something like this:

the alarm clock's trill sound rang out in the room, only to be silenced by the slam of a hand. you crack one eye open and read the time; 6:25 AM. time to get ready for work, you sigh, trying to get out of bed when you register what's been stopping you.

mingyu's arm is draped over your stomach, his hand clutching your waist gently, as if getting ready to stop you from leaving the bed, even in his sleep. your boyfriend was a huge cuddler; not that it bothered you, but when it got both of you to come into work late, it was a problem.

"baby, wake up. we need to get ready, or we'll be late," you whisper softly, turning in mingyu's embrace to face him. he stirs at the movement, lifting his head up and looking at you through half-closed eyes. you smile at the sight of him, hair standing up in ten different directions, and the blankets imprinted on his cheeks.

"good morning, sleeping beauty," you tease, your fingers lightly grazing his bare torso, as if wanting to tickle him. "sleep well?"

"i always sleep well with you beside me," mingyu replies, his voice a deep croak due to him just waking up. "why're you waking up this early anyways? it's saturday, love."

"oh." you say, dumbly. your stupid ass had forgotten to turn off the alarm for the weekend. again.

"i'm so sorry for waking you up," you pout, feeling guilty for not letting mingyu sleep for longer. "i forgot it was the weekend."

"it's okay, love," mingyu smiles. "i quite like being woken up by my workaholic girlfriend. maybe i should just become a stay-at-home boyfriend, you work enough for the both of us."

"i will agree, you'd make a good housewife," you nod, playing along with his joke. "i'd wake up to breakfast in bed every day. sounds like the dream."

"but if i'm at home, who's gonna come kiss you every 30 minutes at work?" your eyes are closed, but you can hear the pout in mingyu's voice.

"baby, you're the head of HR. pretty sure you're not supposed to be kissing me at work," you chuckle, opening your eyes to find him pouting.

you snuggle closer into his chest, cold hands seeking warmth by wrapping around his sun-kissed skin. "how are you always so warm? it's literally freezing out here," you mumble, voice muffled because of the way your face is squished against his bare chest.

"i don't know why either," mingyu shrugs. "maybe my body knows it has to stay warm for you."

"you're so sappy," you tease, but you don't disagree. sometimes it really felt like the universe had put you two together because you complemented each other so well.

his bear hugs would warm up your cold body. your organizing skills helped him always keep his files arranged neatly. his cooking skills made up for your subpar ramen-cooking skills. your tendency to spoil him with whatever he wanted kept him happy. his words of affirmation give you the motivation to keep going.

you completed each other, and you couldn't be more thankful for all the things you've had to face in life just to meet mingyu and find your comfort in him.

"you love it," mingyu replies cheekily, pressing a kiss into your hair, which was just as messy as his.

"wrong, i love you," you correct him, and the giggle it pulls out of him is a sound you want to hear all the time.

"i love you too, so much," mingyu sighs contentedly. he hugs your body closer to his, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. you nuzzle your cold nose into the defined muscles of mingyu's chest, lips leaving tiny kisses all over the skin.

"that feels ticklish," mingyu whines. "you know i'm sensitive, baby."

you grin brightly at his tone, pulling back just a bit to press a kiss to his lips. "fine, i won't tickle you. only if you make me pancakes for breakfast though."

"there's no flour in the kitchen," mingyu frowns, as if the lack of flour hurts him greatly. in a way, it does, because it means having to say no to you, which he hates.

"that’s okay, we could go out and get breakfast," you suggest, and mingyu's enthusiasm is spontaneous. his eyes light up and stomach rumbles at the mention of food.

"oh my god. there's the cutest bakery i found yesterday and i have to take you there. can we please go?" he rambles, lips turning into a pout naturally as he gets excited.

"of course we can," you nod. "but first, we need to fix that bedhead of yours."

mingyu nods, springing out of bed and dragging you with him. he gets ready quicker than he ever has his entire life, and sits at the edge of the bed like an eager puppy while waiting for you to finish throwing on some clothes. (his hoodie and your pajama pants.)

once you've brushed your teeth and changed, you take mingyu to the bathroom and wet his unruly hair, styling it so it looks neat and tidy.

"okay, all set. let's go!" you announce after taking five minutes to tame a few stubborn locks on mingyu's head.

"finally," mingyu groans. "let's hurry! all the fresh stuff will be sold out soon!!"

laughing at how serious he is, you grab your phone, wallet and keys and stuff them into the large pocket of your mingyu's hoodie. he's practically dragging you out of the house before you can even put your shoes on properly.

this leads you to stumble on an untied shoelace and almost fall flat on your face, but mingyu's arms catch you before you break your nose on the carpeted floor of your apartment building.

"shit, are you okay?" mingyu asks worriedly, inspecting your face and arms. "mingyu, baby, calm down," you laugh, holding his restless hands in yours.

"i'm fine. just let me tie my shoelace, and then we can go, okay?" mingyu nods, a guilty pout forming on his face because his impatience almost hurt you.

once you were done tying your shoelace, you stand up, only to be swaddled into a tight hug by your boyfriend.

"i'm sorry for hurting you," mingyu apologizes. "let's go somewhere you want to for breakfast. let me make it up to you." he says. he feels terrible when he does something that could hurt you in any way, even if it's accidental.

"you silly boy, we're going to your bakery," you giggle, bringing your hands up to pinch your boyfriend's cheeks. "even if i did end up breaking my nose, you'd still love me, so it's okay."

"really? we can still go to the bakery?" mingyu gasps, a smile replacing his frown.

"yes, gyu. that's what i-"

before you can even complete your sentence, he's leaning forward to kiss you sweetly. his hands cup your face and you melt against him.

he leaves a series of short pecks on your lips, not letting you go. when you finally manage to pull away from his affection-filled attack, you tease, "aren't we getting late to the bakery now?"

needless to say, mingyu didn't need anymore incentive to take you to the bakery, eager to show you his new discovery.

yeah, mornings with mingyu really were magical.

(when you found him pouting at the 'closed' sign hanging at the door of the bakery because it only opened an hour later, you found yourself wanting to spend every morning you had with mingyu.)

- fin.

[uncookedfeeler]

CITRUS I🍋

Yuna x Reader

Tags : 4k, light smut, incest,

Part 2??

Parenting is one of life's most transformative experiences. It is a journey filled with joy, growth, challenges and the commitment to raise and guide another human being. From the moment a child is born into the world, parents find themselves on a rollercoaster ride of endless new experiences, emotional highs and lows, and unwavering love.

Parents are caregivers, teachers and coaches, constantly trying to decipher their child's needs and feelings. While the joys of parenting are many, the challenges can be daunting. From sleepless nights with a newborn to the complexities of teenage rebellion, each stage of a child's development brings its own set of hurdles.

After more than fifty years on this planet, half of them with your wife, you're lucky enough to have a 20-year-old girl as your child. From day one she has been the ray of sunshine that lights up your life. She is the person you love most and will remain your most precious treasure until your last breath. But your relationship has changed a lot over the years. Your little princess has gone from being Daddy's little girl to a gorgeous woman who has been driving a wedge between you since she was a teenager. 

This distance has increased since she became a famous idol and now lives between the dormitory and your house, although she only stays when she wants to. 

As usual, you come home from work late in the evening and enter the lock code to get into your house. Unlike before, the lights are still out and the house is deserted. You leave your keys on the hall stand and walk into the living room, closing the SAS door behind you.

You sigh as you walk through the living room to your bedroom, the room a bit messy with some of your dirty clothes from the night before still on the tripod, you sit down on your bed to remove your tie and finally free your neck, your suit disappears and you put on more relaxed clothes. At the same time, your phone rings and you see the name of one of your colleagues on the display:

"Sorry to call so late, hope I'm not disturbing you?" says a soft voice at the other end of the line.

"Not at all, Mrs Bae, I just got home, what can I do for you?" you reply, laughing.

"The CEO wants to see you in his office tomorrow, he came by earlier but you already left, he said he wants to talk about the last contract you secured". 

"Ahahah, the old man already knows it seems, ok ok, noted I'll meet him tomorrow, have a good night Ms.Bae".

"You too, Director"

You put your phone on the bed before returning to the kitchen to prepare your meal and pour yourself a well-deserved beer. With your face still in the fridge, you hear the front door open and a familiar voice echo through the room with a simple "I'm home, I'm tired! "

You immediately know who it is and reply, "Welcome my darling, good to see you home, how was your day, are you hungry?"

Without answering, you see a young woman with red hair jumping onto the sofa. 

"Yuna, please take off your shoes before entering the house, and at least take off your jacket, it's quite warm in the house," you begin to reproach your only child.

"Daddy, please don't start, I've already lost my mind today with the girls, leave me alone!" the young woman cries in obvious annoyance.

The routine is back and you make the effort to take off her shoes while she is lying on her stomach on the sofa, you notice her outfit for the day, a black leather jacket hiding a nice white t-shirt and beige trousers, so you take the opportunity to complicate your princess. 

"That's a nice outfit, darling."

"Thank you," she replies, blushing.

You put the shoes down in the hallway next to yours and see her already absorbed in her phone, so you try to get the conversation going again:

"What happened to make my little Yuna so upset?" you say.

"I'm not 13 anymore, Dad, you can call me by my first name".

"Ah ah, sorry, Yuna".

"Those bitches stole my concept for the shoot, we had to choose a fruit and we had matching colour outfits, during the pre-shoot meeting we agreed and as luck would have it today they used their "maknae shoot last" rule and took my fruit!!! "

"Please don't shout, so what happened after that?" you try to calm her down.

"What do you think, I got to the shoot and all that was left were shitty concepts, seriously, who the fuck thinks it's sexy to have a lemon in the middle of a t-shirt, they're going to laugh so hard at me for the pictures, I'm so ashamed, I left right after the shoot," she says as she stands up and faces you.

You can see the sadness in her eyes and you want to hug her and tell her that everything will be fine, but now that she's looking at you, you realise that she probably forgot to take off the famous shirt and with great regret you put a big smile on your face, almost on the verge of tears.

"No, darling, I'm sure it's a great shirt," you reply with difficulty.

"PAPA!!!, WHY ARE YOU SNIGGERING?" the young idol cries before following your eyes to her T-shirt, her face falling as she finally realises the reason, you're so sorry, but the situation is really too funny.

As you wipe your eyes you see your princess's blood red eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks and she slaps you hard in the face "I FUCKING HATE YOU, JUST FUCKING DIE YOU AND MOM" before running into her room, 

For the second time in your life you feel that pain, the pain you feel when you hurt someone you love, just like your wife did 7 years ago. 

The pain on your cheek is almost non-existent, unlike the pain in your heart. You admit that Yuna has become very withdrawn since your wife's departure, and that your clumsiness with her has hurt her before, but never to this extent.

On the one hand, your authority has been challenged once again, and for the first time she's dared to raise a hand to you. On the other hand, there is a deep sadness that hurts you, but also makes you deeply regret your actions.

You hear your daughter's cries through the door and, with a feeble step, you knock on the door before entering.

"Baby....i'm so sorry" you see her lying on her bed, her head in her pillow, her crying stops when she raises her head and looks at you, her face is turned upside down, her make-up has run down her face. Seeing your child like that tears your heart out, even though you're responsible.

"Just go, just go like Mum, you don't even like me, do you? I'm ashamed of you, go and die," she said in a cold, mean tone.

"Baby... "Hearing these words from your little princess hurts and brings tears to your eyes, so you get down on your knees to continue your apology.

"Forgive me," you tell her as your tears begin to fall, Yuna continues to reject you and her words only drive nails into your feelings, you've surely done the irreparable and you decide to get up and leave her room.

You have ruined your last family relationship with the person who meant the most to you. 

"I'll bring you dinner later, just rest," you say in an emotionless tone as you grab the door handle to leave.

Your steps towards the living room are slow and your body heavy, only to suddenly hear someone running behind you, the door slamming against the wall, and feel your sweet daughter's body against your back as she tries to wrap her arms around you.

"PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME SORRY," the red one cries with all her hot tears.

You drop to your knees and take your only child in your arms and hold her close, her head is under your chin as she buries herself in your neck, you stroke her head with one hand while the other pats her back, her arms struggle to wrap around your waist but she clings tightly to you.

"I'm sorry darling, I'm sorry for everything, just let it go now, Daddy's here, I won't leave you, ever"

"Daddy, I'm sorry, I love you"

"I love you too, sweetheart"

You stay like this for many minutes before you plant a loving kiss on her forehead, a sign of your unconditional love for her. She's your treasure and the most important woman in your life.

Yuna's red eyes shine into yours and the young idol plants her lips on yours, the sensation is sweet and pleasant, you are morally in a dilemma, never in a million years would you have imagined kissing your daughter like this, but on the other hand you tell yourself that she's probably had too much rejection for today and is just trying to express her love for me. 

You allow your daughter to express her desires and she wraps her arms around your neck as you hold her kiss, her tongue meets yours in a first dance, the heat in the corridor rises as her body crashes against yours, you feel her small breasts against your chest and her perfume floods your nostrils.

"Yu..na," you try to stop her, tapping her shoulder as she literally tries to eat your lips.

The young idol slowly pulls back, leaving a trickle of drool between your two mouths. You see an incredibly sexy woman, her hair a mess, her breathing heavy and hot, her hands on your chest burning and her eyes devouring you like a hungry tigress.

"The redhead doesn't know what to say when she realises what she's done, her face turning scarlet as she rests her forehead on your shoulder.

"Don't worry, it's not your fault, are you tired?

She nods as you carry her to her room and tuck her into bed, one last kiss before sending your little princess off to dreamland.

"Good night, baby," you say to her as she seems to have gone far away.

.

.

.

The night was harder than expected, and after a light dinner you went to bed with your head still full of the events of the evening, a flurry of emotions running through your body and mind, and faster than you could have imagined, the morning light appeared through your window.

It's almost 7am and you're getting ready for a long day. As soon as you wake up, your body starts to show its age and it takes you a long time to get dressed and get out of your room and into the kitchen. You decide on a quick, simple breakfast of fried egg and rice, and with this morning's appointment, you'll be ready to go in no time, having filled up on vitamins for the day despite your fatigue. As you prepare this, you hear Yuna's bedroom door open and see your daughter come into the kitchen, still wearing her white T-shirt, but her beige trousers have been replaced by blue shorts.

"Morning dad," she says shyly.

"Hi honey, no schedule today?"

"Not this morning," she replies quickly, shaking her head.

Neither of you seem comfortable with the conversation and you do your best to avoid meeting her gaze and vice versa. You discreetly exchange glances and smiles, the redhead in front of you is beautiful and you find yourself ogling her.

You continue to prepare breakfast, making sure you have enough for your daughter. The only exchange you've had since is asking her if she wants a coffee, which she refuses. You see her hovering around the table as if she wants to talk, then she finally gets up and goes behind your back to the fridge.

Then you look back over your shoulder, feel Yuna's embrace around your waist as she buries her face in your back, feel the warmth of her breath again and put your hands on hers.

"Are you all right, darling?"

"I'm sorry dad, my head has been on fire since yesterday, my body has been on fire since I saw you this morning, I just wanted to tell you that I love you very much," she answers as she places kisses on your spine.

You feel the tenderness of her lips on your skin as Yuna gently lifts your work shirt, you say nothing, letting your daughter express her feelings as Yuna's gentle attacks send electric shocks down your back.

"Please look at me," she says as she forces you to turn around, pulling you by your hips until your bottom is resting on the edge of the kitchen counter, face to face with your daughter, who is staring at you for the first time this morning.

Her eyes were trembling and she asked you in a soft, frightened voice: "Tell me you love me, Daddy", while she pressed her body against yours. You felt her soft breasts against your chest and she put her hands on the back of your neck. Your daughter brings her lips to yours, her eyes closed, waiting for you to confirm your feelings.

At this point your morality as a father is the only obstacle standing in the way of this relationship, your daughter may not realise it but it is an immoral relationship waiting to happen, your daughter is still looking for a way to fill the hole in her heart, the love of her members doesn't seem to be working for her and now she is relying on you, her father, to give her what she needs, it is a difficult choice but you are letting yourself be swallowed by the devil, your daughter's happiness is what matters.

You cupped her cheek with one hand before pressing your lips to hers as Yuna melted under the pressure of her emotions, you rediscovered the sensation of love and laid your daughter on the counter while maintaining the kiss.

Your daughter is now sitting on the worktop, the difference in height bringing her face level with yours, she grabs the back of your hair to pull you towards her, her legs wrapped around your hips, your lips still locked as your tongues meet again.

When the seal is finally broken, both your breaths are heavy and noisy, each under the hypnosis of its own pleasure, while your eyes are full of sparkles and plunge into each other's. Your princess's eyes shed small tears, which you hastily wipe away with your finger before giving her a long kiss on the forehead.

Daddy, my heart is going to explode,' she says as she takes your hand to her breast with her t-shirt, the feeling is even better than you had imagined, her small breasts are firm and pleasant to touch, as you gently knead her breasts, the young woman makes little moans that express the pleasure she is receiving.

"Yuna... do you like what Daddy is doing?"

She nods "I want to feel your hand on my skin," she replies as she takes both your hands and places them under her t-shirt, right on her breasts.

"Do you like my lemons daddy? squeeze them hard please" Yuna's sexy face and her words echo in your brain as your hands work on her juicy fruit.

The tension in the room rises and you place your mouth on her little lemon, which you have been kneading for a few minutes, you attack her nipple with your tongue while you suck, hoping to suck something, you alternate your hands, now covered with little red spots, your daughter moans with pleasure and prevents you from withdrawing.

"Daddy, suck on them, play with my little lemons that you love so much, they're yours".

All this excitement had made you hot and a knot had formed in your trousers. Your lips left her two Susson-marked mounds and now attacked her defenceless neck, licking it from bottom to top, following her carotid artery and planting long kisses under her jaw, making her tremble before she gently pushed you away.

"Dad, let me take care of you too, I've been feeling your lump on my leg for a while now".

Your daughter begins to unbuckle your belt, then your trousers, until she can finally see your underpants and cock. Then your daughter puts her hand on the front of your briefs to rub your cock, and you see her other hand go down her shorts, probably to check the state of her briefs.

"I'm soaking wet, keep playing with my tits and come and touch me down there while I take care of you".

Your daughter's hand reaches through your shorts and grabs your cock to stroke it gently, on your side you slide one of your hands up her thigh to her panties and rub her slit directly against her skin, she's wet and you can feel a small bush above her entrance, you wiggle your fingers up and down, taking the opportunity to go back and kiss your princess who moans at your actions.

Yuna's technique isn't the best, but who can blame her, the poor thing is fighting against her own body and the way she arched her back as you delicately knocked on her pussy door, freeing her lips from your kiss, the young idol expressed with volume what she was feeling,

♥Hmm....♥Ah....Papa, continue ♥Hmm, ah....♥

Your daughter's moans are like music to your ears and she quickly lets you know that her orgasm is coming as your fingers begin to penetrate her pussy from the inside, you feel little spasms running down her body and her pussy dripping with wetness, as you pull your fingers out you see the deception in her eyes before devouring her with your mouth, forcing her to let go of your cock in the process. 

Your cock is extremely hard after Yuna's work but your pleasure is not your priority as your tongue slides up and down your daughter's slit, her juices are delicious and you suck them in to capture the taste of her naughty hole in your memory. Her grip on your thin hair is powerful and she blocks your head with her legs as you finally hear the release.

"Daddy, I'm going to come, it's happening, da..." before she can finish her own sentence, stopped by her pleasure, Yuna comes all over your now wet face and falls onto her back on the worktop.

"Are you OK, sweetie?" you ask her, a little worried as she suddenly falls backwards, the pressure of her legs freeing you and you see a close-up of your daughter lying on her back in front of you, her face red and wrung out, her hair falling in the air on the other side of the table, her breasts exposed and marked by your many hickeys and her pretty pink pussy that you've just finished devouring.

You grab both her hands and pull her towards you so that she's at your full height, then you take her in your arms as if you were comforting a small child.

"You're so hard daddy, you can do it if you want to," she says with a little hesitation and tired eyes, then you notice that your cock is at the same height as her pussy.

The choice seems obvious but at the same time you don't want to take it lightly and spoil the moment, the lack of time and place is not what you want to give your princess who is offering herself to you so you shake your head in refusal then plant a long kiss on her lips.

"Not now baby, another time," you reply as you start to pull away from her, only to feel her hand holding you back.

"At least let me make you feel better, I want to make you feel better too," she says as she grabs your cock and starts to jerk it like before.

"Do you like it when I rub your naughty cock? Why does a father turn on his daughter so much?" Yuna tries to be provocative to arouse you, but the tone is off and her lack of experience is glaring, you just smile under your daughter's true words.

Your orgasm builds as Yuna experiments with your cock, trying to give you as much pleasure as possible. You put your hands on her tits again and play with them, which doesn't seem to bother her, far from it.

.

.

"Daddy?"

.

.

"Yes, sweetie?

.

.

"You know ... if you want my lemons to give you their juice, you'll have to give me yours first," she said, pointing to her pussy.

The image crosses your mind, the image of a father and daughter kissing the fruit of their forbidden love, a father giving his love to his daughter and a daughter giving birth to that love, your excitement and shame explode as your cock comes to paint the lower part of your daughter's body, her pussy and thighs marked by your essence.

I'm sorry, I'll clean you up,' you say, looking for something to wipe your cum-filled daughter with.

"It's OK, I'll do it myself,' she says as she scoops up the white liquid and brings it to her mouth.

Any young man would have been revitalised to see such a beautiful woman collecting cum on her body, but your cock is now in a less than glorious state and you pull up your trousers, taking care to get dressed.

"It's almost time darling, I have to go," you tell her as you haven't eaten or slept well, it's going to be a long day.

"Wait," she replies as she approaches you, still naked, "don't forget my goodbye kiss," as she presses her lips hard against yours, then whispers, "we'll continue tonight, I love you.

Your body and mind may be in bad shape, but knowing your princess will be there for you tonight fills your heart with a feeling you've been missing.

Later, in your car on the way to work, you get a notification that someone you're following has just started a live stream, obviously it's Yuna, she's the only one you follow, you pick up the stream on the way, but enough to hear your daughter say

My favourite fruit? mhhhhhhhhhh that's a good question, I'll go with lemon, it's a sweet fruit like me and TMI, but my dad loves lemons'.

______________________________________________________________

[artificial-transmutations]

A night you won't forget

You arrived at the parking lot exactly on time, but Zach was already waiting for you in front of the building, regardless. Similar to yourself, he was wearing a suit and had his dark hair styled for the occasion.

'The occasion' was actually not that special. A new casino, the 'Shifting Sands', had opened in town, and a couple of friends invited the two of you to a poker night in one of the private rooms they rented. You knew one of them, Daniel, for a long time, and when he got together with his now long-time partner, Ryan, you were introduced to one of his friends, Zach. The two of you got along okay. You were both straight, and occasionally, you hang out together to watch a game, but Zach wasn't necessarily your *best* friend. Still, he was a decent dude, and you greeted him with a fist.

"Hey, Zach. What's with the fancy get-up? Didn't they tell you it's just gonna be the four of us? No girls to get all pretty for."

Zach grinned and returned the greeting.

"Who knows what the evening will bring? Perhaps we will get out of our room later, and for that, I'd like to be *prepared*. Besides, you're suited up as well."

"Guilty as charged. I've had the same thought, and I've come *prepared* as well."

You flashed him a condom wrapper that you carried inside your chest pocket and the both of you laughed heartily.

The 'shifting sands' was a modern and glittering casino in the theme of Arabian nights. The staff was dressed accordingly and was pretty attractive, a fact that neither you nor Zach missed as you looked around.

"This place is amazing, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I wouldn't have minded if we just stayed and played here instead."

The two of you followed a hostess into a separate room behind a curtain and were greeted by the two other players. The gay couple had dressed up as well, and wore matching suits, which produced a playful roll of the eye from Zach's side.

Besides the two of them, there was one other person in the room, a rather good-looking and muscular fellow wearing a sleeveless shirt in the house's style - without doubt an employee of the casino. You waved a hello, and the employee smiled.

"I believe we're complete, then."

He got up and closed the door, drowning out the noise from the rest of the casino effectively.

"Greetings everyone. I'm your host, Gene - which is short for Eugene, if you are wondering - and I'm here to guide you through a night you won't forget."

The guy had a slight exotic accent, and the way he pronounced 'Gene' sounded somewhat like 'Genie' - which was, without doubt, what he was aiming at. While you could appreciate that the employee was certainly somewhat handsome, you guessed that Daniel and Ryan had to be practically drooling.

After exchanging some pleasantries, the five of you sat down at the table to play. This was the moment you had been somewhat nervous about, and you were glad that only your friends were here.

"Uhm. Before we begin. I actually have never played poker before."

Zach looked at you like you had just announced you were a chicken in disguise, but the dealer just chuckled.

"No problem. What's your name?"

You told him your name, and he nodded. "Alright, let me just explain the rules."

He did, and you listened closely. It didn't appear to be all that difficult, but it was a lot to remember the different card and hand values. Finally, you nodded.

"Great. Now, before we begin, let's get to know each other a bit. The two of you are together?"

Ryan nodded.

"Yeah, we are. I'm Ryan, this is my boyfriend Daniel, and this is Zach, a friend."

The dealer smiled and his eyes sparkled. "Well, welcome to the 'Shifting Sands', once more. I guess you are the top?"

Daniel looked like Gene had just punched him and he flushed red immediately. Ryan, however, answered.

"Yeah, I am. Why?"

"Just genuine interest. And the two of you..."

Zach was half a second quicker to answer than you.

"We're not together. And not gay."

"Got it. Not gay." Gene chuckled for a moment before starting to deal the cards.

Besides his shameless questions at the beginning, Gene was a brilliant conversationalist, with a bit of a show master attitude and even though you lost most of the games, you had a great evening filled with laughter, light food and tasty drinks. Your only solace in losing was that Zach fared little better, although he supposedly knew the game better than you.

Later in the evening, the chips representing your money had melted away to a point where it was doubtful you could play another round, and Zach's looked quite similar. You excused yourself to the toilet before that last round. Even the men's room was tastefully designed in the casino's theme, and you understood why this place had such high rankings on the internet.

When you returned to the table, you noticed that the tiny stack of chips in front of Zach had grown a bit: one more chip, in a glittering, shining color, had been added to it.

"Hey, where did that come from? You were as broke as I," you protested, but Gene just flashed a smile.

"Relax. Zach just brought one more thing to the table. Remember, you can bet everything you brought here."

"So, what did you bet?" you asked, curiously. Zach looked like he was trying hard to stay serious, and finally, Ryan burst out laughing.

"He bet *you*."

"He... what?" you asked, confused.

"To be more exact, Zach bet your humanity." Gene explained with humorously sparkling eyes. "As I explained, everything you brought is fair game."

It was clear you were past the serious game part of the evening, and you laughed as well.

"Well, then I want to bet something, too. And that is... Zach's *decency*!"

Everyone on the table laughed, except for Gene, who just smiled and dealt you another sparkling chip.

"Very well. I guess this is the last round, then."

He dealt the cards and even though your hand wasn't too bad, Ryan won everything, including your new chips.

You didn't mind losing, and after the game was over, the four of you got up to leave, but Gene raised a hand.

"Gentlemen, you still have to pay up. As I said, it's going to be a night you won't forget."

Suddenly, you felt *strange*. It was hard to describe the feeling, but a sudden wave of weakness went over you. Before you could voice your discomfort, however, you heard Zach talking.

"Man, is it getting hot in here all of a sudden?"

Your friend had already disposed of his jacket and was just half unbuttoning and half ripping open his shirt, in front of the eyes of everyone.

Suddenly, Zach grinned as he wiped away the sweat from his brow.

"Na. It's not getting hot, *I* am hot. Hot as always."

He cupped his groin, which was developing an obvious tent, and winked at Daniel and Ryan.

"Come on, admit it. You wanted me here just so you could ogle me all evening. I don't blame you, I'm just a hot stud."

He ground his groin into the air, and you could see him *changing*. His muscles swelled and his pecs and abs popped, his shoulders grew broader, his arms thicker. His hair became darker and longer, until he resembled a greasy biker model, complete with tattoos on the thick arms.

Zach's body wasn't the only thing growing. His cock, which was obviously hard all of a sudden, also grew in both length and girth, and it was spurting pre as he flaunted his new body shamelessly.

Both Ryan and Daniel were staring incredulously, and Daniel, who was the bottom of the two as you had learned today, even subconsciously licked his lips.

"You like what you see, huh?" Zach addressed Daniel now, who couldn't help but stare.

"Thought as much you needy boy. Hey, Ryan, how about we share your bitch tonight?"

"I, uh..." Ryan began, but Daniel looked indeed like he was about to drool.

"Ookay, I guess. But right here?"

"Yeah, fuck it." Zach answered. "I even brought protection."

With that, he grabbed you by the hair. You were so weak by now you had trouble standing and more or less collapsed in front of him.

Thinking he wanted to have the condom in your pocket, you fumbled with your own jacket, but Zach had other ideas, as he ripped down your pants.

"Come on, let's get nice and ready for that ass of yours," he addressed Daniel, while unceremoniously ramming his hard cock up your ass, which made you nearly cry out in surprise. However, it didn't feel as painful as you had expected, and to your confusion, the cock inside your ass seemed to grow even larger.

Only as your clothing slipped off from you piece by piece, you realized this wasn't what was happening. Instead of his cock growing larger, you were becoming smaller! The room around you grew, as more and more of your insides disappeared to make room for the gigantic cock, leaving yourself somehow... hollow.

At the same time, your skin changed texture. Within moments, what had once been normal skin, felt more and more artificial, even rubbery, no, more and more like *latex*. Only now did you realize with horror what you were becoming. Wrapped tightly around the cock of your previously straight friend, you were reduced to a condom!

With your last strength, you looked towards Gene, but the man was just leaning back in his chair, watching the events unfolding with an amused smile and a sparkle in his eyes.

Your legs and arms had disappeared, and so had your face, but you could see, smell and feel everything, including the musky cock filling you up to the brim. Now, however, Zach gave your elastic form another tug and Ryan a high five, before they both got to work on different sides of the amazed bottom. In mere moments, your world was eclipsed by the ass of your friend, as Zach and Ryan spit-roasted Daniel. You were pistoned in and out of his eager hole, and you couldn't help but share the excitement of all parties involved.

It didn't take too long with the movement of three sweaty male bodies until Zach's balls contracted and you felt his dick pulse inside of you. Then, with a powerful spurt, you were filled up with his cum from the inside, bulging out the section of your latex body that had once been your face. All your senses were fixated on the load, which you both felt and tasted at the same time. The moans from the other end told you that, simultaneously, the other men had reached their climax as well, and you felt like you had cummed yourself.

It took a few minutes for the afterglow to fade, but once Zach has caught his breath, he pulled you off of his dick and tied your back end into a knot before throwing you into the trash can without further consideration.

You faintly heard the three of them say their goodbyes to Gene and some plans to hit the clubs now, but after a few minutes, you were left alone, in the stinking dark, still filled with your friend's cum.

Later in the night, the trash bin was emptied into a big container, but that didn't change much. It seemed like you were left there for good, just an object to dispose of. Eventually, you drifted to a kind of sleep.

When you woke up, it was already morning. Thankfully, you were human again, although naked and in a trash container, and you could still taste Zach's cum. You held your head.

That was certainly a night you wouldn't forget.

And, against all rationality, you looked forward to doing that again. You did feel somewhat empty without a dick to fill you out...

[itneverendshere]

how would the cameron family react to rafe dating a pogue

found a girl my parents love - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) Ps: ward's not a monster in this, just an asshole sometimes, bc my boy rafe deserves a better father figure. also, didn’t know if this request was for this couple but i felt like it fitted them perfectly so here we are again 🫶🏻🤗

Rafe selfishly wanted to keep you a secret for as long as he could. 

Not because he was ashamed of you—not even close. You were his, the only person who actually got him. That part of him he never let anyone see, not his family, not his boys.

It was complicated, though, and his family didn't do "complicated" well. Especially not with a pogue. His dad would flip if he knew he was dating someone he hadn’t been personally introduced to before.

The bartender from the club, of all people. The one they’d see serving drinks to them all summer, like you didn’t exist outside those moments. That was the thing though, you did exist, more than anyone he’d ever known. You were real. That’s why he wanted to keep it just for himself. It was his one thing that no one else could touch, could ruin. Topper knew, sure, but he wasn’t going to run his mouth to Sarah after she broke his heart.

So yeah, he held on to it, kept you away from the world that would tear it down before it even had a chance to really breathe. Until Weezie stumbled into your date at the ice cream shop.

He remembered the way his heart stopped when he saw her walk in. Of all places. Of all the people. She looked at him with wide brown eyes, then at you, and then back to him like she’d just walked in on something she wasn’t supposed to see. 

And honestly? She did.

“What the hell are you doing here, Weeze?” he snapped, more out of panic than anger.

"Uh? Getting ice cream?" Her face lit up, a huge grin stretching across her cheeks. “What are you doing here? And with her?” She looked at you, her excitement bubbling over before Rafe could get a word in. “Oh my God, this is so cool! You’re dating her? Like, for real?”

You smiled awkwardly, sensing the tension rolling off him. He looked like he was seconds away from shitting himself. He could’ve killed Weezie right then and there. But instead, he just sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, well… don’t tell anyone, alright?”

“Are you kidding?” Weezie practically bounced. “I won’t say a word. Scout’s honor.” She shot you a smile before turning to leave. “But like, this is so cool.”

He scowled at her, “Stop being creepy.”

You slapped his chest, scolding him “Be nice.”

“Oh, I like her!”

She kept her word. For a little while, at least.

A few weeks later, they were all sitting around the dinner table—Ward, Sarah, Rafe, and Weezie. Rose was out doing whatever the fuck she did with her friends. Everything was going fine until Weezie, mid-conversation about nothing important, let it slip.

“I saw Rafe and his girlfriend the other day,” she said, just like it was no big deal.

Girlfriend.

Rafe froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. Sarah looked like she’d just been smacked in the face.

“Girlfriend?” Sarah’s voice went up an octave. “Since when do you have a girlfriend?”

He shot Weezie a look that could shove her ten feet under, but it was too late. She slapped a hand over her mouth, realizing her mistake.

Ward raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. “You got something to share with the family, son?”

Rafe cleared his throat, putting his fork down, already working up a sweat. He knew he couldn’t lie his way out of this one. And honestly?

Maybe it was time to stop hiding. He glanced at Sarah, who still looked at him like he was from outer space, then at his dad. He’d always given him shit about girls, all these big speeches about how none of them were ever worth bringing home unless he was serious. 

Well, he was serious.

“Yeah,” Rafe muttered, meeting his dad’s eyes. “I’ve been seeing someone.”

Sarah’s mouth dropped open. “Who?”

“She’s a pogue!”

Rafe closed his eyes, sighing as Weezie blurted the most important piece of information out. She really just dropped the biggest bomb in the most casual way possible. His dad’s expression didn’t change much, but Sarah? She was fully in shock, her jaw practically hitting the table.

“A Pogue?” Sarah repeated, like she couldn’t believe the words even existed in the same sentence as Rafe. “Are you serious? In this lifetime?”

He shot her a glare. “Yeah, a Pogue. What, is that some kind of crime?”

“What?” She shrieked, “You gave me so much shit when I dated John B!”

He clenched his jaw, his patience hanging by a thread. Of course she was going to bring up John B. She couldn’t let anything go. “That was different,” he snapped.

Sarah scoffed, folding her arms “Different? How exactly?”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Because John B’s a dirtbag who had you sneaking around doing God knows what. This is—” he stopped himself, trying to find the right words. “This is different, okay? She’s not like him.”

“So, it’s okay when you date a Pogue? Got it.”

“To be fair,” Weezie chimed in, “John B smelled like shit.”

He couldn’t help the snort that escaped his lips, even though the last thing he wanted to do was encourage her. Sarah shot Weezie a death glare, clearly not amused.

“Language,” Ward warned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many times do I have to tell you girls? No swearing at the table.”

The room fell silent, everyone looking at Rafe like they were waiting for him to say something. His dad didn’t even look mad—if anything, he looked weirdly intrigued.

“So,” Ward said slowly, his gaze locking onto Rafe’s. “You’re serious about her then? Serious enough for me to meet her?”

Rafe swallowed. “Yeah. I am.”

“Alright. Let’s make that happen then.”

He blinked, completely thrown off. “What?”

Ward’s response was calm, almost too calm. “If you’re serious about this girl, then it’s time I meet her.”

Rafe just stared at him, unsure if he’d heard that right. His dad wasn’t angry? Was he impressed? Or was this some kind of setup?

“You... wanna meet her?” he repeated, like he needed the words to make sense.

His dad’s expression wasn’t the usual stone wall of judgment. “I’ve always said if it’s not serious, don’t bother bringing her around. You’re saying she’s important to you, right?”

“Uh, yeah…” Rafe’s voice trailed off, still half-expecting this to somehow turn into a lecture or some Ward Cameron test. “She is.”

He nodded, like he was already planning it. “Alright then, set it up. I’ll meet her.”

He couldn’t tell if this was a win or if he’d just walked into something he wasn’t prepared for. His whole plan was to avoid this exact conversation. He looked across the table, expecting Sarah to be just as blindsided as he was, but she was still stuck on one detail.

“You’re dating a Pogue,” she muttered, shaking her head like she couldn’t get past that fact. “I just… wow.”

Rafe shot her a glare. “Get over it.”

Weezie, always the little instigator, grinned. “She was cool.”

“Okay, so… when do I get to meet her?” Sarah’s brown eyes widened with curiosity. “Is she cute? What’s she like?”

This wasn’t how he thought the night was going to go at all. 

An hour later, he was lying in bed, staring at his phone, his mind still spinning from dinner. He pulled up your contact, hesitating for a second before hitting the FaceTime button. The screen flashed for a moment, and then there you were, all cozy in your own bed, unaware of what was about to hit.

“Hi baby,” you chirped, clearly happy to see him, “What’s up? You look stressed.”

Rafe rubbed his face, letting out a long breath. “Yeah, well, uh—something happened at dinner tonight.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion, tilting the phone closer to you. “What? Did Sarah say something dumb again?”

“Nah, worse,” he muttered. “Weezie... Weezie kinda let it slip. About us.”

Your eyes widened immediately. “Wait, what? She told them?!”

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a low chuckle at the memory of the whole dinner spiraling out of control. “Just dropped it casually like it was no big deal. Sarah freaked out, and my dad—" He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. “He wants to meet you.”

For a second, you didn’t say anything. You just blinked, processing his words. 

“Wait... Ward Cameron wants to meet me? As in, your dad?”

“Yeah,” He mumbled, almost sheepishly. “He’s all, ‘If you’re serious, I should meet her,’ or some shit. Like it’s no big deal.”

You sat up straight, your heart racing. “Rafe, that is a big deal! What the hell do you mean he wants to meet me?!” Your voice rose, panic starting to take over. “Oh my God, I didn’t even think about having to meet your dad. I figured we’d just— I don’t know—figure it out later!”

Rafe winced, knowing this would freak you out. He tried to keep his voice calm, even though he wasn’t exactly calm himself. “Baby, it’s not like tomorrow or anything. We can plan it out.”

But you were already spiraling. “Your dad’s gonna take one look at me— What if he hates me? What if he tells you I’m not worth it, and then—” you paused, your voice breaking slightly, “What if you start to believe him?”

His stomach clenched at your words. He sat up, the phone now held closer to his face. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop right there. What are you even talking about?”

You bit your lip, your thoughts running wild. “I mean... what if he convinces you that I’m not good enough? What if you start seeing me differently? You know how your dad is—he could talk you out of this, talk you out of us.”

Rafe shook his head, almost angry that you’d even think that way. “Are you serious right now? No way in hell is that happening. I don’t give a shit what my dad thinks. You’re the one I’m with because I want to be with you.”

You sighed, your nerves still rattled. “But what if he tries to get in your head? You always talk about how much pressure he puts on you. What if he—”

He cut you off, his voice firm, assertive. “Look, I’m serious about you. I told him that tonight. It doesn’t matter what he says, because you’re the one I love. No one’s changing my mind about that. Not even Ward fucking Cameron.” His eyes softened a little. “I already met your sister. This is just the next step, yeah? It’s us. We’re solid.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

He hated this—hated that the idea of meeting his dad was making you feel like this, but he couldn’t blame you. Ward was intimidating even on his best days, and this was not going to be one of those days.

“You’re not gonna throw up,” he said, trying to calm you down, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure you or himself.

You shook your head, running a hand through your bed hair. “What if I say something dumb? What if I screw up, and he hates me, and then everything goes downhill? I’m not, like... your people. You know that.”

His jaw clenched, hating the way you thought of yourself like that. “Don’t say that,” he scolded, “You’re exactly my people. You’re my person.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No ‘buts.’” He cut you off, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Listen to me. My dad’s opinion doesn’t change anything. He’s not gonna make me see you any differently. You’re still gonna be the same girl I’m crazy about, no matter what he says or doesn’t say. Got it?”

You took a deep breath, trying to believe him. “It’s just—I don’t know, Rafe. I don’t fit into that world, and what if he sees that right away?”

He hated that you felt this way, hated that his dad had this kind of power hanging over the two of you. “You don’t need to fit into his world, okay? You fit into mine, and that’s all that matters.”

Your lips quivered, and for a second, he thought you might start crying. He could feel the panic rolling off of you through the phone, and it hit him hard—he hadn’t realized just how terrified you were of this.

“What if he really doesn’t think I’m good enough for you?” You whispered, almost like you were scared to say it out loud.

Rafe’s heart clenched, and without thinking, he shot up out of bed, pacing his room like he needed to burn off the frustration

“You’re more than good enough for me.”

Your breath hitched, and you looked away for a second like you were trying to compose yourself.

“I just don’t want him to—I don’t know? To make you feel like you have to choose between me and your family.”

He stopped pacing, his grip tightening on the phone. “If it ever came to that? I’d choose you. Every fucking time.”

You blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his voice. “Rafe—”

“I mean it,” he said, cutting you off again. “I’m not letting my dad, or anyone else, get in the way. I don’t care if he’s Ward Cameron or the president of the United States. He’s not gonna run my life, and he sure as hell isn’t gonna ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you. And nothing my dad says or thinks is gonna change that. Ever.”

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall over. Not because you were scared anymore, but because of him. Because of how much he cared. How much he loved you, even when you were spiraling.

He was staring at the screen, concern written all over his face, brows furrowing, "Wait, are you crying?" His voice softened, like he wasn’t sure how to handle you like this, but he knew he wanted to. He needed to.

You quickly rubbed at your eyes, laughing to try and cover up the tears, "No, no, I just— got something in my eye." Your laugh was shaky, and you knew you weren’t fooling anyone.

He didn’t say anything for a second, just watched you with that loving look of his that made you want to bawl your eyes out even harder. He saw right through you. He always did.

“You know,” he finally said, “You don’t have to worry about all that shit. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

And that’s when you almost lost it. Because wow. No one had ever said something like that to you before, not until him. Never like that, like he really meant it, like you were the most important thing in his world.

You sniffed, trying to laugh it off again, but it just came out all soft and broken. “I’m just—” you paused, not even sure how to explain how you were feeling, “I’m not used to this. Like, you... caring this much. Loving me like this.”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and he leaned a little closer to the screen, “I’m not stopping.”

“I know. I love you too.”

It was real now.

Meeting the Camerons wasn’t something you could avoid anymore, but at least you knew you had Rafe, a hundred percent.

“You still freaking out?” he asked, though his tone was lighter, like he knew the answer.

“Yeah,” you admitted with a small laugh. “But I’ll get over it.”

“Good,” he said, his smirk returning. “Because I kinda need you around.”

“Kinda?”

He grinned, dimples framing his face, “Okay, a lot.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Rafe hadn’t said a word the entire drive, which was already freaking you out more than you wanted to admit. His knuckles were white, tight around the steering wheel. His jaw was locked, teeth grinding together and you’d caught him glancing at you out of the corner of his eye at least three times in the past minute.

Your heart was hammering, stomach in knots, and you were starting to wonder if you might actually throw up by the time you got to Tannyhill.

“Baby, seriously, if we crash into a tree ‘cause you’re having a silent meltdown over there, that’s not gonna help either of us.”

He blinked, finally loosening his grip on the wheel. “Sorry. I’m just—fuck, I don’t know.”

You tried to smile, but it felt weak. “Yeah, me too. I feel like I’m walking into some kind of corporate job interview I didn’t apply for.”

Rafe snorted. “Yeah, except the CEO’s a control freak and the company’s, I don’t know, cursed or something.”

That made you laugh, a short, nervous laugh, but still. You appreciated the attempt at humor, even if the nerves in your stomach weren’t going anywhere.

“So, uh... game plan?” you asked, half-joking, but mostly serious. “Am I supposed to shake his hand? Call him Mr. Cameron? Or is it more of a ‘hey, what’s up, Ward?’ situation?”

Rafe finally cracked a grin, shaking his head. “God, I don’t know. Don’t call him Ward; that might send him into some power trip. But definitely don’t call him Mr. Cameron either, ‘cause that’ll just make it weird.”

“Great, so I’ll just go with ‘Hi’ and hope I don’t trip over my own feet.”

“Perfect,” Rafe deadpanned, glancing over at you, “Just be yourself. He’s not as bad as you think. Mostly.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Mostly?”

Rafe’s lips pressed together. "He's not gonna throw you out or anything. And if he does, we’re leaving together. But Sarah...”

“Sarah,” you groaned, leaning your head back against the seat. You’d barely met Sarah, and from what you could tell, she wasn’t exactly thrilled about Rafe’s choice in girlfriends.

“Just don’t let her get to you,” Rafe muttered, his hand reaching for yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “She’s just mad because I used to make John B’s life a living hell.”

“Define hell.”

Rafe smirked, his fingers still interlaced with yours. "I mean, I threw him off a boat once," he said casually, like that wasn’t one of the most insane things you’d ever heard.

You blinked. “You what?”

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road, like it was no big deal. “He was running his mouth about me."

You stared at him in disbelief, “And you think I’m the one who needs to be worried?”

He laughed, finally loosening up a little, “Relax, baby. I’m not throwing you off anything.”

“So she’s not mad about me? She’s just mad about the double standard?”

“Yeah.”

That made it a little easier to breathe.

The silence settled back in for a moment as you pulled up to Tannyhill. The sight of the massive estate took your breath away. You couldn’t help but feel like you were entering a completely different world now that you were here—a world that wasn’t exactly built for you.

Rafe must’ve noticed the way your hands gripped the edge of your seat a little tighter because he let out a long breath.

“Hey, it’s just a dinner. We eat, we talk, we leave. It’s not like they’re gonna put you under a microscope.”

You gave him a side-eye. “You know, I wasn’t nervous until you said that.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Shit. Sorry.”

The car came to a stop, and you could see the flicker of lights through the windows of the house. The pressure in your chest was building, but Rafe turned toward you, his hand cupping your face.

“Listen,” his blue eyes locked on yours, “I don’t care what happens in there. You’ve got me. If anyone makes you feel like you don’t belong, we’re out. Promise.”

You swallowed hard, nodding as you leaned into his touch. “Okay.”

“I’m serious,” he continued, stroking his thumb across your cheek. “One word and I’ll get you out.”

You kissed his palm, “I know.”

“Okay.” he muttered, then pulled away, giving one final deep breath before turning off the ignition. “Let’s get this over with.”

You both stepped out of the car, Rafe knocked once, and within seconds, it swung open to reveal Sarah standing there in all her kook-with-pogue -tendencies glory.

“Well, well,” she smirked, eyes narrowing at you two.

Rafe shot her a sharp look, “Knock it off.”

She rolled her eyes, stepping aside to let you in. “I’m kidding. Kinda.” She turned her attention to you, and you could feel her sizing you up, looking completely unfazed as she led the two of you further into the house. "Dad’s in the study. He’s waiting."

Your heart skipped a beat at that. Waiting? What did that even mean?

Rafe must have felt your nerves spike because he reached for your hand again, squeezing it as you followed Sarah down the long hallway.

The house felt even bigger on the inside, with its high ceilings and fancy decor. You felt out of place. But then you peeked over at Rafe, and something about the way he held your hand made you feel like maybe—just maybe—you did belong.

At least to him.

Sarah finally stopped outside a large wooden door, turning to you with an exaggerated sigh.

"Good luck.”

Rafe hesitated for a second, his hand still gripping yours tightly. "You ready?"

No. Absolutely not. But you nodded anyway. "Yeah. Let’s do this."

He pushed open the door, and there he was.

Ward Cameron, sitting behind a massive oak desk, looking as powerful and intimidating as ever. His eyes flicked up from whatever paperwork he was working on, settling on you with a sharp intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Rafe," Ward said, his voice smooth and controlled, before turning his gaze to you. "And you must be... her."

You swallowed hard, trying to muster up the courage to say something, anything. "Yeah, that’s me. Hi, Mr. Cameron."

You immediately regretted it. Mr. Cameron? It sounded too formal, too awkward.

Ward didn’t seem to mind, though. If anything, he looked amused. He stood up, coming around the desk to get a better look at you. His eyes scanned over you briefly, but it wasn’t the cold, judgmental look you’d expected. Instead, it felt more like... curiosity.

"So, you’re the girl my son’s been so serious about."

You nodded, wanting to be anywhere but stuck in that claustrophobic room despite its size, "That’s me.”

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looked between you and Rafe, “I hear you’re working at the Country Club.”

It wasn’t really a question—more like he already knew everything about you. Oh. You didn’t like that, knowing that someone else was snooping around for dirt on you. At least it sounded like that was the plan.

You managed a nod, trying to keep your voice from sounding too hushed. “Yeah, I’ve been working there for a while.”

His expression didn’t really give anything away, but the way he looked at you, was unnerving. Rafe’s hand squeezed yours, reminding you that, no matter what, he had your back. One word and you were out.

“Good,” Ward finally said, “I like that you work.” He sneaked a stern look at your boyfriend before turning his attention back to you. “He could use some of that drive.”

Wait. What?

You hadn’t expected that. You thought maybe he’d grill you or give you the whole ‘what are your intentions with my son’routine. But no, he was... complimenting you? It had to be some kind of set up.

“Dad—” Rafe started, clearly not expecting that either, but Ward cut him off with a raised hand.

“No, seriously.” His eyes were back on you, and there was almost a smile there, like he was actually impressed. “It’s a good quality. I respect people who work hard, people who don’t just expect things to be handed to them. And from what I’ve heard, you’re one of those people.”

You didn’t even know what to say.

Ward Cameron? Complimenting you? Was this real life? You’d walked in here prepared for a full-on interrogation, and instead, he was... encouraging.

“I just hope some of that rubs off on my son,” Ward added, shooting Rafe a look, and you swore there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “He could stand to work a little harder. He’s always been a bit lazy.”

You bit back a laugh, glancing over at Rafe. He was glaring at his dad, but you could tell he wasn’t really pissed, just...embarrassed. You found it endearing.

“Thanks, Dad,” Rafe mumbled.

“I like it. Maybe you’ll inspire him to work a little harder.”

You blinked. Wait, was this actually happening? Did Ward Cameron, of all people, just say he liked you? This whole night felt like it was gonna be a disaster, and now... maybe it wasn’t gonna be so bad. You hoped so.

You really wanted his family to like you, you felt like you owned him at least trying.

“You know," Ward began, "I wasn't always the man you see standing here today." His voice took on a reflective tone, and you could sense the change in the atmosphere as he prepared to tell his story. "I grew up on the Cut, just like a lot of those kids you see around he, like you,” Ward said, almost casually, but you could tell it wasn’t a casual thing for him. "Back then, I didn’t have much. But I worked my ass off to get out of that place. I didn’t have a name, no wealth behind me. What I have now? I built that from the ground up. No one handed me anything."

Rafe, who had been quiet up until now, let out a small, barely audible sigh, shifting uncomfortably beside you. You took a quick glance at him and caught the unmistakable eye-roll he tried to hide.

Clearly, this wasn’t the first time Ward had given this speech. But at the same time, you could tell he was relieved that his dad wasn’t tearing into you. That had to count for something, right?

Ward, oblivious or perhaps just unfazed by his son’s reaction, continued, his voice gaining momentum like he was giving you some kind of motivational speech. "It wasn’t easy. There were plenty of times when I could’ve given up, but I didn’t. I pushed through, made connections, took risks. That’s how you get ahead. You have to be willing to do whatever it takes. Now look where I am—" He gestured around at the lavish room, the estate itself practically a testament to his success. "I built an empire. Something real. Something that can last."

You nodded politely, unsure if you were supposed to say something. Rafe’s obvious eye-rolling and silent huffs of frustration beside you made it clear that he’d heard all this a hundred times before. He shifted in his seat, crossing his arms, clearly waiting for his dad to wrap it up.

But Ward wasn’t done yet. He turned his attention back to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "The point is," he said, his tone softening a little, "I respect people who are willing to work for what they want. I see that in you. It’s not about where you start—it’s about where you’re going."

Rafe let out a short, quiet breath that you might’ve missed if you weren’t sitting right next to him. He shot you a small, knowing smile, almost like he was apologizing for the speech but also relieved that Ward wasn’t being an asshole.

You squeezed his hand under the table. At least his dad wasn’t tearing you down.

"Thanks, Mr. Cameron," you said, finally finding your voice. "I really appreciate that."

He nodded, seeming satisfied with himself. "Just remember," he added, his voice lowering as if he was giving you some kind of life lesson, "Hard work pays off. You keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll get somewhere. Don’t ever settle, not even for him.”

“Thanks again.”

Rafe looked like he was about to explode from how much he was holding back, but he just gave you a quick wink as if to say, Yeah, this is typical dad, but hey—he likes you, so we’re good.

Ward clapped his hands together, the moment of sincerity quickly passing. "Alright, well, I think dinner’s ready. Shall we?"

He strode ahead, leading the way out of the study and toward the dining room, leaving you and Rafe a few steps behind. The moment he was out of earshot, you looked up at Rave, “You think we’re good?”

He smirked, leaning down slightly to meet your eyes, his tone all teasing. “Baby, I think he might build you a pedestal.” 

You couldn’t help but snort, trying to keep your voice down as you followed Ward. “Really? After that ‘self-made empire’ speech?”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, giving you a knowing look. “Trust me, if you got through that and he didn’t start questioning your entire existence, you’re golden. The man sees himself in anyone who works hard enough to breathe without permission.”

You bit back a laugh, gripping his hand as you walked down the long hallway. “Yeah, I was getting that vibe.”

His grin grew wider, his thumb skimming over your knuckles. “And look, usually, it’s a full-blown interrogation by now. You’re good.”

You raised your eyebrows, slightly surprised. “Really?”

Rafe nodded. “Oh yeah. Sarah’s brought home guys before and it was... rough.” He shook his head, “He actually likes you. That’s rare.”

Maybe things with the Camerons were actually going to be okay.

[notjustjavierpena]

just thinking about taking a late night bath with hubby when the kids are asleep. just intimate moments and quiet chats about nothing in particular. that man has rotted my brain

R&R

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Here you go, nonnie ❤️ Gave you smut too, whops

Summary: You return from an emergency at work to Javier who wants to spoil you.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic bliss, fluff, alcohol consumption, body insecurities, javi loves and worships his wife, kisses, rough passionate sex, dirty talk, light choking, multiple orgasms, siggy wrote doggy (an achievement), creampie, explicit description of come, hint at a breeding kink

Word count: 4.5k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59136853

R&R

You fall back against the door with a huff after entering your house late at night, sighing deeply while dragging your hands down over your face in exasperation. There’s the familiar prickling feeling in your nose as your body threatens to let tears fall from your eyes but you swallow thickly and try to focus on the comfort of being home. You hadn’t wanted to go into the office at this time of day but it had been an emergency meeting that meant you couldn’t be there for Lucas’ bedtime. 

As you undo your jacket, shrugging it off your shoulders, Javier enters the hallway. He is the only person you want to see right now, his mere presence easing your mind and body. 

“Where was the fire?” He asks, taking your jacket from your hands and hanging it up for you. 

“A project had fallen through today without the boss telling us,” you groan, not even thinking - like always, switching to autopilot - when you push yourself off the door to walk into Javier’s arms when he opens them for you. You mumble tiredly into his shoulder, “It’s going to delay my team’s progress for the next three weeks.”

“Your boss is a fucking idiot,” Javier thinks out loud. 

“I actually agree,” you laugh softly into his skin, and he turns his head to peck your cheek. There’s something so satisfying and sweet about coming home to someone who is your unwavering supporter, letting you vent about the messes that you reluctantly get involved in. 

However, it’s not what you want to talk about right now. Instead, there’s only one thing on your mind, “Is Lucas asleep? Was he a challenge without me here?”

Javier pulls back to look at you with an amused expression, “Luke’s fine, mi amor (my love). He’s been sleeping since 7:30.” 

You chew your bottom lip at hearing that he didn’t fuss about you not being there to put him to bed and kiss him goodnight. There’s a pang of frustration at not being needed, and your husband seems to notice it quickly. He continues, “But he did miss his mamá. He asked for you and I told him you’d come upstairs to say goodnight when you got home.”

You smile with slight relief, spurred on to finish taking off your outerwear and therefore going for your shoes so you can head upstairs to kiss your son on the forehead, “Really?”

“Sí, sin duda (yes, no doubt),” Javier tells you, sinking to his knees to help you remove your boots. He pats the leg that he wants you to lift, “And I thought of something.”

“Hm?” You hum, enjoying the warmth of his hand on your calf. 

“How about I open up a good bottle of wine and run you a bath?” He sweetly suggests, looking up at you from the floor in a way that makes your head spin. 

“Will my considerate husband join me?” You purr and run your fingers over his hair as you tower above him. 

He tilts his head back as you push his hair back and there’s almost a submissive glint in his eyes but then he slowly rises to his feet again, his hand skimming up the back of your leg as he does. He purrs right back at you, his lips close to yours and making you realize you haven’t kissed him in greeting, “If that makes my wife happy.”

“Very happy,” you press a lingering kiss to his lips which he gladly returns, making the feeling of the stress of tonight start to fade into the background already. 

“Go say goodnight to our son and I’ll get everything ready,” he whispers as he only pulls back an inch. 

You smile as you feel him hold onto you until his hand is forced to fall to his side, then feel him watching you ascend the stairs to the bedrooms upstairs. He looks at you until you have left his line of view, then heads to the kitchen.

You can hear him take wine glasses out of the kitchen cabinet as you open the door to Lucas’ room gently so it doesn’t creak. You find your son sleeping on his side in the soft glow of his nightlight, facing the door with his blanket still tucked around his torso.

You tiptoe over to his bed, watching the way his mouth hangs open as he snores ever so slightly before crouching down to kiss his forehead. Lucas stirs slightly, his eyes fluttering open just a crack.

“Mamá?” He mumbles in a sleepy whisper.

“I’m here, mijo (my son),” you whisper back, brushing a strand of hair away from his face so you can kiss him there a few times more, “I just wanted to say goodnight.”

“I miss you,” his tiny voice melts your heart, his language still not grammatically advanced yet. 

“I missed you too, baby,” you smile softly, “Go back to sleep, okay? I’ll be here tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mamá,” he is already drifting off, eyes blinking slowly as he struggles to stay awake. You run your hand over his hair one last time before leaving the room, closing the door with a quiet click.

You find Javier just outside, him not having wanted to disturb your moment, “He okay?”

“Missed his mommy,” you tell him with a pleased smile as you walk into his arms like earlier.

“Daddy missed Mommy too,” he kisses your cheek. 

“My boys need to learn how to share,” you pull back, grinning at him because of the dirty intention behind Javier’s nickname for himself. You feel his hand rest on your back for a moment only to slide down to pat your ass. You bat it away with a tut.

“We’re already so good at it,” he insists and starts to guide you further down the hallway, the smell of lavender becoming stronger with each step. The hand stays on the small of your back, “Come on.”

When he opens the door to the bathroom, the tub is steaming into the dimly lit room and looks so inviting that your shoulders slump. There’s the baby monitor and an open bottle of wine on the sink counter, which you recognize as one of the more expensive bottles that you’ve had for a while; Javier hadn’t been joking when he said a good bottle. 

He pours you a glass while you slip out of your clothes, and you watch him undress too with a little smile while sipping the red liquid. 

“You did all of this in the few minutes I was in Luke’s room?” You ask as he eventually stands naked in front of you as well. 

“Doesn’t take that long,” he shrugs. He clinks his own glass against yours. “A toast to incompetent bosses.”

“Ugh,” you groan, already stepping over the edge of the bathtub. Javier follows behind, stopping you when you want to sit opposite of him in the water. 

You sigh as Javier guides you to lay down against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around your waist after he has taken a sip of his wine and placed the glass on the widest part of the edge of the tub. He kisses your shoulder tenderly, rubbing off the red stains made by his lips afterward. 

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone tonight,” you say quietly after a few moments of simply enjoying the warm water lapping at your body, the bubbles sitting around your breasts like you’ve seen in many romantic movies. Javier rests his palm on your stomach. 

“Sorry for what?” He questions without judgment and moves his hand across your belly in a soothing gesture, “Are you not home now?”

“You know what I mean,” you place your hand on top of his and take a sip of your own wine, swallowing what feels like a life-saving drink, before setting down the glass next to your husband’s, “I just hate missing out on Lucas’ bedtime. I know you’ve got everything under control, but… I don’t know. I just want to be there for him so he doesn’t forget me.”

“Forget you? You’re being silly now, baby, eres su mamá (you’re his mom). He asked about you. I told him you’d be home soon, and he smiled his big toothy grin,” he reassures and holds you a little tighter against his chest.

“Stop,” you drag out the word, “You’re making me jealous of you getting him all to yourself.” 

“You still get baby-jealous of me?” Javier seems puzzled by this.

“All the time,” you groan and reach for your wine again, knowing it’s irrational, “I want you to hold him too but that’s my baby. I can’t believe how much I miss him when I don’t spend every goddamn second with him.”

“Even when he begs for pancakes ten minutes straight?” You can hear the smirk on his face. 

“Try half an hour,” you reply with a chuckle. 

“Shit,” Javier laughs and you can feel his chest vibrate behind you as he does it. You turn your head to look up at him with your own grin, and he dips down for a lingering kiss that turns into a few tender pecks. God, you love this man so much that it is ridiculous and he does whatever he can to make you feel better. 

“Although,” you continue as you return to your previous position of lying against him, “No more pancakes for me. My thighs have doubled in size since Lucas was born.”

“What are you talking about?” Javier tuts. 

“You’ve got two working eyes,” you tell him while bitterly taking a sip of your drink, “I can barely fit into my jeans anymore with these thighs.”

“God, you should stop saying stuff like that if you don’t want me to imagine your jeans bursting at the seams. I might not be able to handle that,” he teases, both hands going down your belly to lay flat on top of your thighs. He jiggles the flesh slightly, making the water slosh against the edges of the bathtub, “You think I don’t want you every time I see you in those jeans?”

“You’re exaggerating,” you pout and nestle into him. 

“No estoy exagerando. Eres tan sexy (I’m not exaggerating. You’re so sexy), and your body is just proof of how fucking tough it is,” he rubs his hands up and down your thighs, massaging gently, “So what if you allow yourself some pancakes once in a while? You’ve given birth to our son.”

You feel another protest bubble up in your throat but it fades from your mind when Javier kisses your neck gently. Instead, you sigh gently, “Thank you… You know how to make me feel beautiful.”

“You are beautiful, esposa (wife),” he insists and takes your wineglass from you to place it back on the edge of the tub. He wraps both his arms around your torso and arms, trapping you against his chest and holding you tightly, “You shouldn’t allow the stress of today to let you talk about yourself like that.”

“Then let us talk about something else,” you protest his squeezing touch at first but then relax, melting into him and resting your head on his shoulder. His chest rises and falls steadily behind you, and his cheek presses against yours. You close your eyes to enjoy the moment, feeling the warm water gently sway in the tub and hearing the bubbles crackle quietly around your body. 

You talk about little things; about Lucas’ new favorite book, about what you should have for dinner tomorrow, about the funny thing your colleague said at work. The conversation drifts back and forth lazily, like the water around you, and before you know it, wine glasses have been emptied and refilled, and an hour has passed, making the world feel a little bit brighter, a little bit softer.

“Even better,” he says softly as the conversation comes to a natural halt, “How about that for the last few minutes, we just lay here together and don’t talk? Not about stress, not about work, not about what we’re doing tomorrow.”

“You love talking about work,” you argue teasingly. 

“Shh…” He shushes you playfully, pressing his nose into your cheek and blowing a raspberry. You follow orders with a theatrical sigh but finally, relax fully and let your mind drift to comfortable nothingness. You listen to him breathe quietly, hearing him occasionally drinking his wine until he has finished the second glass and is pressing lazy kisses to the parts of your skin that he can reach. 

“See?” He says after what feels like an eternity, “Isn’t this nice?”

“We’re turning into prunes,” you mumble because you’ve been close to drifting off from the soothing warmth of the wine and the water. You cover his hand with your own, yawning towards the ceiling. 

“I don’t want you catching a chill either,” he replies while reluctantly letting go of you so you can rise to your feet and step out of the bathtub. It takes you a moment to pull yourself together to actually do it. 

He follows a moment later and the best part of your night becomes the comfortable silence that occurs when you enjoy the sight of each other as you dry yourselves off, Javier draining the tub and reassuring you that the cleanup can wait until tomorrow. 

There’s electricity in the room as you move around each other, and the way that Javier talked about your body earlier is still lingering in the air. It’s there in the back of your mind with every look, every smile, and every brush of your skin as he passes you while getting ready for bed. In the end, you confront him about it, playing at the subtlety of his actions.

“You’re thinking about something,” you note while moving into the bedroom next door, not in your pajamas yet. You walk to the dresser in the room, opening the right drawer that has your underwear, and feeling the anticipation of his reply. When he follows you into the bedroom, you’re holding your breath. 

“I’m thinking about you,” he murmurs with a small smile. It’s the simplicity of his answer that heats up your thighs, the fact that it is nothing grand and dramatic but enough to tell you that he thinks you are the most desirable woman out there. When you reach for a pair of panties, he lays a hand on top of your wrist, “Don’t.” 

You let him twirl you around to face him, sleepily leaning into him while he moves in for a long, slow kiss that releases some of the tension in the air. You sigh against his mouth and link your arms around his neck, feeling like everything has led up to this since you stepped inside your shared home. 

He has his hands on your waist when he deepens the kiss, taking your breath from your lungs as he kneads the flesh in his hands. You let warmth settle in your belly, let shivers run down your spine.

Suddenly, he pulls back from your mouth. He says nothing as he reaches for your shoulders and gently guides you to turn your back to him. You shiver in anticipation, even more when his hands travel down to rest on your hips and he ushers you towards the bed. 

You kneel on it as you reach the edge, crawling forward until you’re in the center of it. Despite losing his touch for a brief second, it’s worth missing him for just a few moments when you feel the weight of his body making the mattress dip.

He crawls up behind you, still silent as he moves, radiating soothing warmth from your bath together and smelling like the lavender bubbles. You gasp when he gets close, his broad chest grazing your back and his hard cock poking into your ass. 

He rests his hands on your hips. You lean back into him, craning your neck so he can kiss you over your shoulder. He still tastes like wine as he captures your mouth, the hands on your hips tightening their grip slightly. You lay your palms on top of them, kissing him back with increasing impatience. 

“I want you,” you whisper against his mouth and let one hand wander back to squeeze his hip. You can feel him smearing precome on your skin, probably aching as much as you to have it, “Please, Javi.”

“Shh,” he coos, his head descending to kiss your neck in a trail up and down the most sensitive part, “Sé que es difícil, pero tienes que tener paciencia (I know it’s hard but you gotta have patience).” 

You spread your knees a bit more, the hand on Javier’s hip coming back to lay on your thigh to keep your balance, “Fuck me.”

“No, pretty mamá. Fuck me what?” He taunts you but you smile to yourself as one of his hands leaves your body and you hear shuffling behind you. 

“Fuck me please,” you groan a little too loudly anyway. 

“Turn down the volume,” he commands while he nibbles on your neck, nose following side-by-side with the trail of spit that’s already made by him, “You have a 19-months-old who hasn't disturbed us all evening.” 

You suddenly feel his cock between your legs and it makes the snappy retort you want to make die in your throat. The head breaches you and you’re worked up enough to let him come inside if he wants. Your head falls forward as he fills you up, stretching your walls that are soaked despite how he has not played with your cunt tonight. It’s the warm water that has relaxed you, the atmosphere too, and it’s the way he can kiss you wet and ready within a brief minute. 

The both of you pant as he sheaths himself fully inside of you, spearing you on him until his thighs rest against the back of your trembling ones. Just before he moves, you feel brave enough to let go of the top of your thigh to slip your hand down between your legs. 

Javier moans in your ear as you begin by feeling where the two of you are connected, your hole stretched around his generous girth. You know he is struggling not to move because he is breathing hard behind you, letting you indulge in this filthy act as you get used to him being inside of you. 

“Mamácita,” he borders on begging. 

“Move,” you allow him by commanding him. 

He pulls out only a little before he rocks his hips into you again, filling you to the brim once more. You bite down on your lip to stifle your relieved whimper, it taking only a few thrusts for you to settle into a rhythm with him. 

As he fucks you, you keep your balance with the help of him, his arm coming around your body so he can splay a palm on your heaving chest. You lay your free hand on top of his, curling your fingers around his fingers while the bed creaks below you and you nearly manage to keep quiet all the way through. 

“Baby,” you screw your eyes shut as he goes harder and makes you see stars behind your eyelids. Your noises climb in pitch, turning into pathetic whines as you start rubbing your clit to get off. However, Javier slaps the hand you still have between your legs away. 

“I don’t want you doing any work. This pussy is mine to treat,” he growls quietly behind you and presses two fingers down on your clit, hard and aching for attention. He goes in circular motions, gradually speeding up his pace to get you to orgasm. 

“Fuck,” you cry out and throw your head back to rest it on his shoulder, exposing the column of your neck to make it almost too easy for him. The hand on your chest goes upward, a gentle squeeze to your throat making an even louder moan impossible to breathe. 

You take the hint. He doesn’t squeeze anymore, simply keeping his fingers around your neck like a necklace as a lewd warning while he repeatedly sinks deeply into your cunt with his maddening skill that has your pleasure peaking rapidly. 

“Gonna—“

“I know,” he pants but doesn’t slow the powerful pace that makes his cock move inside of you just like he knows you love it, “Shh…”

“Kiss me, I— I can’t keep quiet,” you sob at the continuous onslaught. You’re soaking his cock and balls in your slick, the squelch of your wet walls sounding obscene in the otherwise quiet room. It gets even worse when you come, fast and hard with a sharp intake of air that you lose again the second he kisses your open mouth. 

It is so intense; the continuing stab of your g-spot, the way the pads of his fingers move on your clit just right, and how he doesn’t stop even as your orgasm ebbs out and leaves you a sensitive mess. You hadn’t planned on it being this sinful tonight, had just expected slow and sensual but as he makes your eyes water, you know it had been his plan all along. 

Your thighs tremble when he forces you to come again, squeezing around his dick until you can hear his own breathing switch to something more desperate. You reach behind yourself to grab at his hip, moving your hand even further back to pull him into you by his ass. He gets the point, releases your mouth, and moves the hand between your legs to your shoulder to push you forward. 

When you are resting on your forearm and gripping the sheets, your other hand still rests on his backside. You urge him to fuck you more by pulling him again to which he responds by pounding you greedily into the mattress. 

Your body writhes as he does, twisting and struggling to take him after coming twice in a row but you can’t stop yourself from wanting to feel him finish inside of you. It’s enough to make you bite the bedsheets, keening as he gives you those last few pushes of his cock. 

He comes with a low, guttural groan of your name, body going rigid behind you until you feel the warmth of his seed spread inside of you. It makes you whine in satisfaction, pushing back against him so it goes as far into you as possible before he is soft. 

“Shit,” he hisses at the sensitivity, “Stop.”

Both your hands rest in front of you now. A string of saliva still connects you to the sheets as you let go with your mouth, “Didn’t expect you to lose it enough to finish in me.”

“Mentirosa (Liar),” he gives a breathless chuckle, reaching for the base of his cock to carefully pull out. You earn a smack to your ass and the both of you make a noise in unison, even more when a dribble of come slides down your slick folds and drips from your clit. Javier swears under his breath, “You want another baby, huh, mi amor (my love)?”

“Would it hurt?” You ask, collapsing flat onto your front and looking back over your shoulder in your post-orgasmic bliss. You smile sweetly, spreading your legs a little wider to allow him to see his load stain the sheets. 

“Is this really how we have that conversation? When it might have already happened?” He lets out a theatrical sigh, his gaze resting between your legs even as he kneels to rake his fingers down your spine. He rubs the small of your back. 

“You’re more agreeable after sex,” you say with a twinkle in your eye and wiggle your hips to give him a little show, “I know when to ask for what I want, and I want a sibling for Lucas while he is still little. It’ll be good for him.” 

“I’ll give you as many babies as you like,” Javier bends down to kiss the skin of your back, nose between your shoulder blades. You are salty with sweat, probably have beads of it at the base of your spine, and sigh deeply at the loving touch of his mouth. 

You arch into the kiss that he plants right below your hairline, “I’m not just messing with you, baby. I want a family with you.”

Javier tenses up at that but the air in the room doesn’t change. He loves it when you say things like that, and it makes his hand still on your back which burns slightly from his warm touch. After a second more, he shifts to lay beside you, propping himself up on one elbow so he can see you better. You turn your head to the side, your cheek resting against the cool sheets. 

“I mean it,” you say softly. “Another baby… I think I’m ready. If you are.”

“You’re serious about this,” he says into the room, not quite a question but close enough for you to answer it like one.

“I am,” you scoot closer, trying to push down the distracting urge to go clean up when this starts to turn into a profound conversation.

He studies your face, searching your eyes as if trying to see how deep this desire runs. You hold his gaze, letting him see your sincerity. Finally, he smiles softly and leans down to peck your lips a few times, “You know I can never say no to you.”

You grin, so much for profound, “That’s because you know I’m right.”

He snorts and rolls his eyes. He reaches out to give your ass a playful smack, “Yeah yeah. Happy wife, happy life. Now go wash up, I can see you want to.”

“You need to shower too and I’ll change the sheets when you do,” you tell him as you crawl off the bed, halfway to the master bathroom when you continue, “I don’t want your dick in my new sheets.” 

When he doesn’t respond immediately, you peek back at him from the bathroom door. He has turned onto his back, resting on both his elbows and sporting a smile that he didn’t think you would see. He looks at you when he notices you, his chest practically aglow with happiness. 

“¿Otro bebé, eh? (Another baby, huh?)” He watches you rest against the doorframe, gorgeous as ever when he is completely naked and happy. 

“I know you love making them, that’s why I thought you would be onboard,” you joke with the same kind of smile on your lips. 

“Onboard? Mi amor (my love), I’m the captain of this ship,” he winks, “And ready to set sail whenever you want.”

“Good because I don’t want you only at half-mast,” you wave your hand dismissively while Javier laughs in a way that has your heartbeat racing in your chest, feeling high school again, “Too many sea jokes.” 

“I fucking love you,” he still laughs. 

“I love you too,” you say softly and close the door.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[court-jobi]

Hi, lately I came across your blog and I really adore your writting style :3

I was very excited when I saw you have open requests (if I am not wrong, otherwise ignore me hah), so I have request for Bakugou × reader, when they are in established relationship, but lately it got rocky, because he was barely home, trying to climb ranks and just neglecting their relationship, so they barely even talk. Then reader gets kidnapped, due to being Bakugou's SO, but she feels so irrelevant at this point that she starts saying to the kidnapper that they are wasting their time, because Bakugou is not coming for her, whick Katsuki overhears, you know just good old angst with fluff at the end maybe

If this request is too complicated or specific please don't feel pressured to do this, anyway have a lovely day/night

I am very much receptive to asks, and thank you so much for providing one!! super flattered actually and spent my entire afternoon crafting up this bad boy bc I had an instant idea for it

Hopefully I touched all the right notes on this one, enjoy anon! Don't be a stranger~

Do It Scared

Words: 4.9K

Warnings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x reader TW: kidnapping, intimidation, light descriptions of violence, protective Bakugou is protective, language, angst with a happy ending (promise!!) and potential spoiler: Pro Hero!Deku

for my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Dynamight is on top of the world– or at least working his ass off to get there.

With Deku back on the leaderboard, he’s got twice the motivation and has never been in love with being a hero more.

“That’s what -heh- nine for you this week, Dynamight?” the newly suited Pro beams at Bakugou- not unlike the five year old version of him did back a lifetime ago.

Only instead of bashing the twerp upside the head with a gloating tease, Bakugou simple smirks and gives Midoriya a stiff push on the shoulder, 

“Ten, but who’s counting, nerd?”

The winded, black-and-blue villain currently under custody finds the heroes’ track records funny. Midoriya doesn’t necessarily take these villain types’ remarks to heart, but hates the attitude of this one today.

“Yer sidekick keepin’ count?! You wanna badge or a chest to pin it on, smartie pants? –AAGH!”

“HEY- THE ONLY GUY CALLIN’ THIS DEKU A NERD IS ME, DUMBASS!! YOU’RE THE SHITHEAD GOING TO JAIL FOR THAT STUNT– AND HE’S HEADING INTO THE TOP TEN!!”

“HO-OKAY, DYNAMIGHT, I think he’s had enough!!” 

Deku corrals the punk’s restraints a bit, but leaves the remaining process of reading rights and detainment for the police who just rolled up. Deku will proudly share that much prefers this ‘thick as thieves’ treatment to the ‘fight me or die’ dynamic they shared in school, and couldn’t be happier to be Pro Heroes once again.

And if Bakugou were completely honest, so was he. He’s in his element and closer to reaching his goal by the day.

Walking out of earshot from the police unit, the two are heading over to Ingenium and Creati who are deeply engrossed with the intelligence officers who just arrived on the scene. 

“Ten it is, then– you really need to start leaving some to me though; I can handle it, you know,” Midoriya slips his facemask down, exposing a pleading grin Bakugou still kinda wants to punch some days. “Might give you a little time to actually take a rest day now and then!”

“Tch, if you were fast enough, you’d do it, ‘Zuku.” Bakugou straightens out his gauntlet, but misses his best friend’s tilt of a frown. “N’ who said I need a rest day, anyway? I’ve never been better!”

“I can think of one person..” Midoriya hinted strongly at something that truly escaped Bakugou’s focus. Every now and then, he couldn’t quite mindread the nerd like normal, if he was deep in work mode.

“Heh?”

Midoriya raised a friendly, tired brow, “How’s your girl been lately, hm?”

Bakugou tenses a touch, but quips back, “Whaddya mean. She’s fine, been working a lot too.”

“Not as much as you. What’s she up to? You haven’t said much about her.”

Which was an oddity, indeed. Your successes, your insights, and even your random memes were common topics of conversation from Bakugou’s lips. But Midoriya did raise a finer point between the lines– you’d been put on something of a backburner, and he knew better that something must be off for the blond porcupine to rarely speak of you. Bakugou sensed it himself, but the more repeated check-in texts he received, the cycle of his non-answers worsened. This must be what the nerd is getting at.

“She’s fine-” Bakugou pressed, assuring himself and no one else, “Look, we’ve got our flow, and it works. I keep her in the loop when I’m busy and she gets it.”

Midoriya heaves a disbelieving breath, and just fixes Bakugou a look.

“What’s that shitty look for, huh? Whaddyou know?!”

“I know when she texted me yesterday that she doesn’t sound thrilled about your overtime…” the freckled sweetheart touched a personal chord within Bakugou. “Or that she hasn’t even heard from you to talk about it? I mean, I-I know it’s not my business, but Ka-”

“Deku, Dynamight!” Iida waved the two over from their aside, and back into work mode- to Bakugou’s drop in spirit, “We have a bit of a time-sensitive mission to take care of~”

Deku turned to the officer, raring to go and and straightening up his shoulders to address their more formal counterparts, “Of course, officer- how can we help?”

“Well sirs, we’ve got an ongoing heist over on the other side of the riverbank, and need a bit of coordination to respond.”

Yauyorozu had just finished off a protein pack of some sort and had demurely crumpled its trash in her hand while navigating an ipad passed to her. She’d welcomed Midoriya over when he took interest in whatever footage she’d been presented.

“Well shit, we supposed to be standin’ around like this when time’s wasting, or what?” Bakugou asked brusquely.

Ingenium -in his formal, helmeted fashion couldn’t hide his practiced patience well with the hothead in his response;

“The need for firepower is necessary, Dynamight– but caution is as well,” Iida reminded dryly. “We are in a heavily populated area, and must exercise control.”

Bakugou merely purred a low growl and turned diplomatic.

“Fine. We got live wires? Hostages?”

“To our knowledge, only a select few- a dozen at most,” the officer answered, “We can see most of the victims through the bank’s glass lobby. It’s a small, petty theft group- or so we thought, but there are some decent quirk users among them. Seems they are after more than funds, but records as well.”

Bakugou refrained from rolling his eyes, but only barely. Surely there were bigger and better missions to be pursuing than this– something a bit flashier, more suited for his skills with higher civilian rescue numbers to add to his count.

“One guest was able to contact via the emergency text line, and reported that someone did pull an emergency trigger and was taken further back into the vaults as a prisoner.”

Iida empathized, “Hardly fair- I’m sure none of these customers were armed, and they were simply acting as any hero would trying to notify the authorities.”

The officer firmed up a smile in agreement and proceeded to share some more info about how far back into the bank the team would need to infiltrate based on proximity to servers. 

“Sure you don’t just wanna call ‘Tape’, bust in there, strap ‘em up, and call it a day? Y’don’t really need a whole evac team, do you.”

A simple rescue in-and-out should be easy enough, or so he assumed- until Yaoyorozu took a bit of a sharp intake of breath in her nose, alerting Deku to fixate on the screen again,

“Bak- erm. Dynamight,” Yaoyorozu interjected gently, “-you need to see this-”

Bored and still half paying attention to the officer, Bakugou only barely looked Momo’s way, and didn’t really feel like a crowd around a tiny screen -in full sun- was warranted.

“What? It’s frickin’ bright out-”

“Kacchan,” Midoriya shot back icily, “get over here.”

Something alarming had struck him in the face, and he was purposefully putting on a front to those not personally connected to the heroes. Sidestepping ‘Legs’, Bakugou was passed the ipad and played back the security footage of the interior of the bank.

Time stamped at just fifteen minutes ago, a civilian in question had tried dipping around the counter to where some clerks had been bullied up to the opposite wall- but one of the employees jerked her head towards one of the registers- a lightning quick gesture. This cued the civvie -a woman, if the hiked up skirt was a correct indication- in the foreground to feel around the bottom lip of the keyboard for something- likely an alarm switch. Once done so, she’d merely knelt back down, hoping to stay low and sneak back to avoid the thug to lash out at the person who’d tipped her off.

But then -comically enough- the thug sneezed and unfortunately whipped to the side to let it fly. Looking up, there she was in his sightline. With something akin to a spider’s web knocking her flat onto her back, she’d been dragged up and back with the others- trying to ground herself with a squatted stance first, tried to force her elbows back, then bashing her head back in an attempt to hit her captor– until she was ultimately slapped and taken back to the far hallway, hunched over.

Bakugou saw red. His heart stopped then set itself on fire, hotter than Hades. He’d known that self defense response from having taught it, himself.

You pulled the alarm. 

For the first time in his career- he knows the target he’s saving. He’s in love with her, after all.

Damn your neck hurts. If your elbows hadn't been glued up to your sides, you woulda used those instead; but now having jerked your head back, you’d given yourself a healthy dose of whiplash.

And got a punch to the gut. And a slap to the face. Joy.

There’s fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. You’d seemingly gone for the fight route, with your body moving before your self-preservation could catch up, but it seems your fawning tactic of remaining calm and quiet wasn’t working out for you now. At least you took the attention off those poor girls in the lobby who were in near hysterics. 

Only now it seemed you’d taken on the role yourself, back here. You try to breathe deep, drop your shoulders, drop your jaw. You’d think this would double to avoid showing any fear that your captors can use against you, but it’s honestly just to help keep you grounded and not panic and curb the intense need to vomit or cry.

Please. As if you’d even call yourself heroic for pulling the theft alarm– but you suppose it’s instincts. Carry-over bravery: osmosis you assume, from hanging around these heroes. Your hero. Katsuki.

You’re stunned– you’re shocked– and you’re scared. 

Katsuki. You want Katsuki. More than the police, more than your mom. 

You want your hero to come for you, over any other in this entire country. The name pounds behind your eyes when you shut them against a wave of pain, the person you want more than anything else in the world.

–And at the same time, that man’s name hurts at the cry for it: given he hasn’t spared you more than a one or two word response in days. Because he’s overworked by his own volition. By his own drive. And you should be angry. You have been, for this is the longest you haven’t seen each other outside of a trip; considering you’ve all but committed your lives together and he’s typically at your place every other night, the drop in communication is a cold bath.

And you’re scared now- it’s a blurry feeling. Time is wonky when you’re stuck in a room with no windows, no visible clock and just waiting. All those tips they tell you about how to react in an emergency to keep calm? The ones you’ve heard over and over again in security briefings and teacher preparedness days before the school year starts? Man, is it easy for those to go out the window when you’re in actual trouble.

You just want Katsuki. And that’s a silly thought, considering how wide the city is. He could be clear across the district right now.

But just saying the name -thinking of any other pleasant time when he had his arms around you play-fighting that could make these bindings feel more bearable- that’s what you want to cling to.

The villains here are pretty pathetic as interrogators go, but that spares you no calm as they taunt you as if you were a captured magistrate or politician. They’re split into two parties; their head honcho trying to tap into the databanks of the servers two doors down while your immediate captors with the creepy quirks are choosing to go through your recovered phone seeking out blackmail like the assholes they are. Your primary apps for insurance and paying your bills are thumbprint protected, so really what could they get to that's confidential? Nothing, to your knowledge. But it seems your camera roll strikes their interest. 

Oh yeah, they hit low. They see your lock screen first- a sweet photo of your harmless, dopey dog who they snark that you won’t be home to feed on time. Then even more, as your home screen displays a picture-perfect selfie of you and your darling man. You picked it because it’s rare proof of him smiling at some wisecrack you made before snapping the shutter.

Your handsome and infuriatingly busy man. 

“Aww, well just look at little miss hero’s cute lil boyfriend! Bet he’ll be awful proud of you playing the savior~”

“Tehehe, too little too late though, yeah? Gotta be quicker than that for us.”

“Geez, how sappy can you get. This guy’s all over her…and can’t blame him, honestly. Makes me feel a little bad for roughing such a pretty thing up.~”

Gross. Just gross. You act like you don’t listen, your simpering pain turns to nausea the more they talk. Until a renewed sense of fear hits:

“Wait- go back. Oh. Ohhh shit, no.”

“Whuh.”

“Fuck, man, that’s DYNAMIGHT!!” the jerk with the copious amounts of tattoos and chains draping off his arms like whips gets nervous real fast, “We have Dynamight’s girlfriend!!”

Your other guard seems to swallow for a split second, but immediately tips to a feigned dominance,

“Well, ain’t that just icing on the cake~”

“THE HELL DO YOU MEAN? He’s gonna come after her!! You know how scary that guy is?! I’m telling the boss-”

“Don’t wimp out already,” he fires back. “Why do that and waste time- when knowing this, we could get paid double? Heroes ransoms can cost him a pretty penny, and you know he’ll do it for her. Those heroes make bank.”

You flatten your brows angrily. 

“Whaddya think, princess? Big man gonna come and save you, huh?  

You really want Katsuki. But you truly have no idea if he’d know or care to come at this point. The spiral downwards in the mind is dizzying along with your headache, and just makes your heart sick for him. 

When you see him next, you’re not sure if you’d hug him or throttle him. Though now, you just wanna see him. 

“Unless.. He doesn’t!” his mood shifts- patronizing, “Too busy makin’ a paycheck and name for himself and all his hero buddies than to settle down and think about the pretty thing at home? Well, I would fix that real quick–”

A muffled boom sounds on your right. Rooms away.

Another, louder. Two beats after, the guards look at each other.

You hear a yell, a harsh one, then another blast that sounds cracklier than the rest. Someone’s close. But you’re honestly not sure if it’s friend or foe.

You’re excited, but get nervous again when the lackeys move into action. Chains loops a rough swing of his appendages around you and starts dragging you back into the adjoining office, while the muscle goes back to type at one of their private laptops that’s downloading something.

You give off a flare of panic in your voice- a sound you hate but can’t control. 

“It’s-s not him–” you force your pitch lower, but it shakes despite your best effort. “Cmon, there’s too many heroes, s’not gonna be him–  n’there gonna come an’- bust yall anyway!! Whaddya want me for?!”

As you’re dragged, you catch a glimpse of shine from above you. In the vent, you see mustard yellow and teal saturated with shadow- all metal. Then, his voice, through a comm on his wrist that flashes in the reflected light:

“Got her. Light it up, on your left.” 

Both lackeys drop what they’re doing and look up to see the vent kicked into the floor– and the wall totally blown in from your right. 

Dynamight -the Symbol of Victory- and Deku -the Symbol of Peace- are dropping in at breakneck speed, though the former is out for blood.

“ALRIGHT, WHICH ONE OF YOU FUCKERS AM I KILLING FIRST??”

Deku’s landing creates a decent wind with his jump, revealing Bakugou behind where the door usually is, and clocking your position almost immediately. 

It’s a powerful thing, to see him in action- you’ve certainly never seen it in person, and you’ve never heard him this mad. To his credit, he never raises his voice enough for you to fear it.

He spots you and the guy who rushes him, but just snarls, evades his whip of weighted chains entirely, grabs him by the calf, and chucks him into the opposing wall with a spinning throw. Then, he sets straight to you.

“DEKU!!” he shouts to Midoriya, “Trash, at your ten!!”

“On it!” Your angel from the ceiling ducts is currently laying into the other guy, but keeps the reeling villain in his sights before he can get up and strike again. You imagine the sucker has more than a few broken bones (or truly is dead, as promised)… he doesn’t move from his figure on the floor.

While you’re still coughing up a storm from the drywall throwing dust everywhere, Bakugou comes to your side and immediately picks your bound body up in a rush from the chair you were perched on.

“C’mere you-” 

He sounds rushed and spent, huffs it out of the room and into a separate office down the hall. 

You spot Ingenium and Creati moving on to the other end of the hall where you know the final villain remains, but you can already hear the squeals of said wimp once Iida bursts in. This will be quick work for the rest of them, so you weren’t worried Dynamight would be needed anymore.

Inside an executive’s office, Bakugou kicks the door behind him shut with his heel and sets you on the dearest flat surface- a decently sized desk.

“Hey you- you still with me?”

You don’t realize you’re breathing so fast until he’s looking you square in the face with split concern. It’s night and day from when he burst in after one of his more gusty explosions, his voice all cracked and high in pitch.

“Cmon, baby look at me- here, let’s get this crap off of you..”

Your gasps for air turn wet and you can’t keep yourself from crying anymore. It would be notably sweet that he still tries his hardest not to curse wildly around you, but right now you don’t care what font his expletives are in. Every bit of stress leaving your body all at once is a rush for your senses and your emotions.

“Kats~”

After his pocketed knife’s quick, careful work separating your arms from your waistline covered in a still-sticky webbing, he sheaths the blade again and collects you up when you launch yourself at him. 

Bakugou holds you hard and fast and you can’t even be bothered to worry about how his shoulder pauldrons are nearly choking you. He’s got you back in his arms, and he’s just saved your life.

“I’m here,” he grunts to you, relieved beyond measure, “I’m here, sweet’eart. You’re safe.”

You’re so thankful. You’re so happy-

“N’d I am so sorry.

-You’re so confused.

In a flippy tone that betrays what heightened nerves you’d just gone through, you ask, 

“Huh?”

Bakugou’s fingers thread into your hair when you try and pull back-

“Don’t. S’the first.” His iron-sure voice wavers, “I- I haven't hugged you all week.”

Then, you’re both crying into each other, and it’s a healing thing. 

Dragging careful nails across the back of his hero suit, you try to offer a tiny bit of comfort to this mass of man cradling you on this desk. You know you’re still in dire need to talk about his recent absence, but what a reunion this was. Feeling him after a seven or eight day stretch of near radio silence changes the degree of flame you hold against him. Honestly now, you’re in the mind to think he deserves a pass entirely. 

Bakugou finally lifts enough to press a kiss to your head, but makes no move to let go of you. “I’ve missed you, baby.”

Has he? He’s barely texted you past the ‘I’m heading out’ and ‘I’ve gotta sleep’ with no room to offer or reciprocate any form of love between you; so much so, it threatened to make you doubt. 

“Have you? I haven’t heard.”

“No, you haven’t. And that’s all on me.”

You turn your head very slowly- your entire neck is still tender, but you'd rather listen to him with an ear to his chest, where you belong. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you settle on the truth. You might have more to say when you’re not so exhausted, but the truth is you’ll still love him no matter what, and you do always miss him.

You miss every moment, big and small. His wins and losses. Nights where he’s high off a victory or the ones where he’s bone-tired and in his head about how weak he must seem. Nights where he takes out his hearing aids and just wants to fall into your silence to sleep safely, and the mornings where he’s up and ready to go take on the day after he has your kiss and hug to charge him up. Whether he has your chapstick smeared up on his cheek, or the promise of your arms to hold him in whatever state he greets you when he comes home, you just miss him. You notice when he’s not there. The house seeks him out, with lights on for him to find his way inside, and low music to soothe what anger might have followed him home.

You take a few moments to just soak each other in. You hope and pray he’ll come home with you after this.

And thank the Maker, your prayers might just be answered.

“This was a wake-up call, sweetheart.” Bakugou sounds a bit bolder, but still talks softly to you and the dust mites around you, “I’m takin’ a leave. A long one.”

The way he promises time off is something he’s toyed with before, but never followed through on.

“You can’t do that, Kats,” there’s no coldness to the words, but you mean it.

“Yes I can. It’s my race; I can step away.”

You sigh against his pec, “I’m.. I’m not asking you to. I can’t, that wouldn’t be fair.”

To you, sure. But not for his dream. Not the dream he’s worked and fought and lived for since before you met, and long before he fell in love with you. You’d supported him in this chase to save everyone and be the best at what he does from day 1, and you’ve never wavered on that– you still wouldn’t, even if someone asked you now feeling as dejected as you do by his absences–

“Tch. Y’know what's not fair?”

Bakugou finally loosens his grip on you to lift your chin up to him with thick, strong fingers, 

“Leavin’ you for days on end; waiting up, worried sick. Leaving, and just assuming you’ll still be there when I get back. And now you’re getting fuckin’ snatched the minute I turn my back on what we have. That isn’t right.”

The correlation is irrational- this incident today was a freak accident. You couldn’t have planned it- or certainly hope that your identity as his significant other is not going to be weaponized. Shuffle in the hallway beyond tells you that the possibility of that information leaking is sufficiently locked up along with them. 

Surely Izuku would have grabbed your phone– and maybe set you up a new lock screen with a mean mug to poke some fun at ‘Kacchan’.

You slump against him, at the sound that he’s being too hard on himself, and that’s not what you want for him either.

“I just miss you, Katsuki. And I want to see you succeed.” you study the bold ‘X’ across his chest with fondness and heartache mixed, “I want both those things. I just can’t help but wonder if you have to go at it so fast? And so hard, where I never see you? Like you’re racing against the clock to be #1? I just want you there in one piece; I don’t care how long it takes.”

You have no doubt he’s going to land the spot before he’s thirty. You just hope for a balanced ascension to the height of his power and ability. And selfishly… you hope you’re in the picture of his life when he does.

Bakugou hears and you do believe he listens, as he smooths a calming hand up and down your arm all the while.

“And today..” you clam up a bit with an uncontrollable shake, “Today was- scary. But you couldn’t help that. Any more that you can help it from happening t’ anyone. I know that,”

And you look up at him despite the burn it causes you. And -a funny contrast to your still teary eyes- you smile.

“-but you did save me. And that was- honestly one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen in my life.”

The comment strikes him as funny, too, since he gives a little chuckle.

“Me blastin’ in and causing you to choke on my smoke?”

You nodded briefly.

“Kinda hot, all things considered.”

Unbelievable, his headshake and eyeroll at how easily you can -and will- make jokes. Perhaps it is the shock still, deflecting with humor. 

You do realize how fragile it is because when you laugh at the absurdity, you catch his eye again and you look just a little too long before you’re sniffling. 

The reality is that you could lose him at any time: whether by his end or yours. He’s got the more dangerous job by far, but if today was any indication on your part, you shouldn’t just think yourself as a shoe-in for safety.

Bakugou cups your face in his hands to make himself perfectly clear.

“You’re the hero today, angel. Watched you in 16-bit as you snuck back there, taking that bastard into next week. You saved every- single- one of them.” he placed a kiss on each word as he praised you. “I am so damn proud of you.”

Your hands still skipped, limbs jumpy. 

“I don’t feel like a hero.”

His lashes lured you in as he gazed at you through them, “Doesn’t mean you aren’t one. You did it scared. That’s pretty hot, too.”

You huffed your amusement as he thanked you in his own way. Best to let him carry on before he’s whisked away again. 

Just as you thought he might release you in ushering you out of the office, Bakugou takes you by the hands so that you can stand, then keeps you in place by his immovable stance.

“Things are gonna change,” he vows, “because none of this shit matters if I don’t have you. Yeah I want you now, but I’m gonna want you after my fire’s burnt out. Which means, I gotta pay attention. I have to set ‘who matters’ just as high as ‘what matters’ and remember why.”

Touched by every word, your trembling lessens. You take in his warmth and his care and his explosive loyalty with confidence and nod in agreement.

Taking one last selfish hug, you sink into your hero again, standing more as equals than you usually feel being held by him. He’s lifted you up in more ways than one. Enough to let safety back into your heart, enough to tease,

“That can’t be your line. When did ‘Zuzu’ give you that one?”

“Hey,” Bakugou flicked you in the temple lightly, “I can be nice too, dammit.”

“Sure you can,” you kiss the dip of his neck in apology.

“You’re just always nice, you can’t appreciate the difference.” he pouts, taking your hand and leading you out of the office.

“...Sure I can.”

You have to give him a solid shot– he’s nothing if not insistent with what he wants.

Outside the room, there are a host of officers, photographers, medics and heroes aiding in the recovery efforts, so you relax your hand in his to let go,

–only he doesn’t let you.

Bakugou glances to you, “You’re in shock, extra. You need to get checked out.”

“I’m fine, Mr. Dynamight,” you chortle with a little head bobble like you would have normally done, only now the movement makes you wince.

“That’s what I thought. OI, Deku- where’s her sh-phone?”

The iron hero stands with the receptionists, looks to you both and smiles gratefully, before nodding off to his company and joins you-

“This, I believe, belongs to you, maam~” he perks up as he comes around to your other side. It’s not so much that you have to pretend to be strangers, but in this high-traffic place, it seems easier to fall into roles of ‘heroes’ and ‘thankful public’.

“How kind, Mr. Symbol of Peace~ I’d be missing this!”

Double checking your lock screen, he did -in fact- change your cover screen to a playful selfie: pointing at the crumbled remains of the wall they’d broken into, with the caption:

>>Whatever Kacchan wants, Kacchan gets <3<<

Muting your laugh, you simply tilt your phone Bakugou’s way and catch Midoriya’s quick wink back to you, before he sets off running with a screaming boyfriend sprinting after him.

At least Katsuki showed up back at your place at 6:30PM on the dot, fixed you both a salmon dinner, and started getting your baseline of support back on track. With his next two weeks off and barely keeping his hands off of you so far, you believed he was making good on remembering his why.

[heartfullofleeches]

While the psychological mindfuxking Host puts Darling through in order to wear them down into being his co-host is honestly one of the most fun things to write, I live for Darlings who were never appreciated in their own time and suck up all the praise he gives them for their talents.

Crafty Reader who also dabbles in a bit of inter decorating winds up on Host's show and their immediate first thought is "Damn, bitch- You host a game show on this stage?"

It's cute- but a little outdated. Where's the passion? The irritatingly bright neon signs that burn their eyes from a mere glance. Potted plants??? Anything??

Normally Host isn't one to tolerate guests that interrupt his opening speech, but as Darling goes off on their tangent Host is left stumped - stupefied, damn near mesmerized by that fire in their eyes. He can't say they aren't wrong either- Props come and go as Host wishes, but the stage is a bit lacking without them. Not contestants don't stick around long enough to point it out, but with his newest and top pick for co-host right in front of him perhaps it's time for a few changes.

"Congratulations! You won today's show Give our fans a big smile and wave goodbye to our losers."

"I won?...but you didn't even ask me any questions."

"Oh, you- If answering questions was the only way to win here no one would."

Darling is whisked away by stage hands into a bedroom- The room is deprived of any furniture beyond a bed, a large chest propped against the farthest wall, and a table upon which an old sewing machine sits. It looks a bit like the one they had back home, but the label is made up of jumbled letters and symbols. How are they supposed to use the darn thing without any supplies anyway?

Darling inspects the chest and finds.... pretty much everything tucked away in their small bedroom, their real bedroom that they use for their projects. No construction paper, though.....

Oh. There's some.

Darling quickly discovers that whatever they require appears in the chest whenever they're vocal with their requests. On occasion, the chest acts without their say and pulls the thought from their mind before they're able to speak. It isn't long before the empty space is fully stylized to their personality and presences. Darling thinks they did a great job. The teddy bear on their bed believes so too.

.....When did that get there?

Darling may have won his show, but Host is the real winner when he see what Darling has done to his stage. Host are extended by another hour....or year with how long he brags to guests about Darling's craftsmanship. Time is a tricky thing to keep track of when the watches you wear flop between ticking backwards or at a snails pace.

"Thoughts on those name plates? Our brilliant co-host made them for you all- Are you lucky? I of course have my own, but- Oh, come now. I know this is top quality work, but there's no need to scream. Give our co-host a hand for all their hard work....Or lose both."

[leaawrites]

Lost all your common sense

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Summary: in which a misunderstanding changes it all.

Or

The happy ending of part one: Coincidence

Warnings: a bit of angst, fluff, misunderstanding, this is pure fiction

Wordcount: 0.6k

Masterlist, Short n'Sweet Series

Leaving would always be hard, it would always break you. Looking around the apartment that now looked like the first time she walked into it, something in her died.

None of her stuff was still laying around the floor, no clothes were thrown somewhere, it was all plain now. With her suitcase standing beside her she wrote the note she thought about for so long. Max was out with Kelly and P again. He didn’t even tell her this time. She woke up alone and figured it out when she saw his ‘good’ clothes taken out of the closet.

She loved him and she was sure he loved her, to a certain degree at least. But something made him stop at that. Something he didn’t tell her about.

Turning around she was about to open the door, for the last time. Putting her hand on the handle she felt it moving without putting any pressure on it. The door opened and in walked the man of the hour. Max only stopped walking and looking up from his phone when he saw her feet in front of him. Suitcase next to her.

“Where are you going?” Max asked, looking between her and the suitcase. When she didn’t answer he continued asking questions. “Are you going on vacation?”

She looked at him unimpressed, her eyes red and her lip sucked between her teeth. Chewing on it.

“Babe, what is going on?”

“I can’t do this anymore, Max.”

“What?” Anxiety was creeping up on him. The feeling he had feared was coming to get him.

“I don’t think I’m the right person, Max. I’ve seen the photos of you and Kelly. I’ve seen how you look at her. I don’t think I can cope with that,” she said, trying to get past him and away from the tension that was building around them.

But Max had other plans. He closed the behind him, not letting her get past.

“Max, let me go,” she practically begged him, trying to get by once more. But Max started talking again, making her stop.

“I didn’t know who else to ask and I was scared figuring it out alone. So, when I met Kelly the first time I told her about it and she offered to help me,” he started explaining, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Max, what are you talking about?” She asked, feeling the annoyance and fear already creeping up her spine.

“I didn’t plan it like this, but…” he trailed off at the end of his sentence, taking her hand in his and walking to the middle of the living room.

He looked unsure for a second longer before he finally moved again. Putting one of his knees down on the ground and searching for something in his jeans pocket.

“Max,” she warned him in case he was just playing with her.

“Y/n,” he said back, smiling up at her as he held a velvet box in between his fingers. “I love you, only you. I don’t think that will ever change. I know that I’ve been walking on thin ice planing this and if you still want to leave I wouldn’t blame you. But I just want you to know that if you want to spent your life with me just like I want to spent mine with you, I’m ready. I don’t ever wanna miss you like I would if you walk out that door. I want to be yours. Do you wanna be mine?”

Her heart was racing, tears falling from her eyes. She couldn’t believe it. But she did. She nodded her head, mumbling ‘yes’ over and over again. Falling to her knees herself and throwing her arms around his neck.

----

I hope you're happier with this ending, than the last one.

Taglist: @ellelabelle @loloekie @ariesandwolves @sunny44 @gr1mes-cc @hrlzy @atintina

[tpwk-formula1]

Girl prepare for a big one I’m sorry 😭

Gluten free, deep dish with Red sauce, Jalapeños, Tomato’s, and Ham, with Sun tea and a Vodka redbull and dessert?

Served by Lewis Hamilton

Special request: “can there be a fight for dominance but the reader looses?” Love the menu btw 💗💗💗

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

gluten free rivals deep dish teammates red sauce rough sex jalapenos "Always such a fucking brat" tomatoes "Do you enjoy pissing me off?" ham "You're so infuriating. Walking around like you own the place and then come back to my room to get fucked properly" sun tea sir kink vodka redbull squirting dessert yes served by Lewis Hamilton

Lewis x Rival Teammate! reader

TW - MEAN asf Lewis, reader can fight back, sorry for the things I said about you Kimi (I love you I promise!), squirting, unprotected sex, face slapping (once), multiple orgasms, truthfully might be the roughest sex I have written for this vlog (maybe other than Kinktober)

WC 2100+

Y/N POV

The meeting was finally over which had Lewis and I both popping up and scurrying off into our respective driver's room. We just finished our debrief after the Singapore qualifying after Lewis and I were found fighting in the garage when I refused to give him a slipstream after he didn't give me one back in Monza when I needed it.

Toto left the meeting at "You guys need to figure your shit out. Fuck or something." He even suggested. If only he knew...

I'm packing up my stuff when I hear a loud bang coming from Lewis's room making me stop and stare at the wall that connects our room before I hear Lewis should a loud fuck.

I slowly leave my room looking into the garage to see if anyone had heard Lewis's outbreak. When I noticed the entire garage was completely empty I walked next door to knock softly.

When I didn't get a response I trained my ears to see if Lewis was in the shower. When I can't hear the shower I softly open the door to find Lewis changing into a different pair of pants making my eyes instantly notice the bulge hidden from his briefs. I could tell he was far from rock hard which had my mind racing.

"Do you know how to fucking knock?" Lewis snaps making my eyes instantly move from staring at his bulge making my face grow hot slightly.

"I did knock," I snap back before turning to leave.

"No, wait!" Lewis shouted not letting me get a clean escape.

"What?" I ask while stepping into Lewis's room and closing the door behind me giving us some privacy in case we get into another screaming match.

"Why are you even in here?" Lewis asked referring to me coming in, in the first place.

"I heard a bang and then you shouted. Just wanted to make sure you where okay," I tell Lewis softly making Lewis nod.

"Ah, so you do have a heart! Spent the past three years convinced you where the fucking tin man," Lewis tells me with a sarcastic laugh falling from his lips.

"Lewis, literally shut the fuck up. You're getting replaced by a child next year because you threw a tantrum when Toto didn't give you what you wanted," I tell him makingg Lewis's face grow red in anger.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? You're the one who might get replaced by Max next year is Toto can swoon him," Lewis snaps back making me shrug my shoulders.

"Eh, at least I know the person replacing me has talent. Your replacement fucking crashed my car on lap three last time he got behind the wheel," I reply back trying to show the situation doesn't stress me out.

"You're fucking petty as shit. When Kimi crashed you were all like 'oh no I hope he's okay! He's just too sweet he better be okay'," Lewis replied back in a voice that was clearly trying to mock my voice.

"You're so fucking ridiculous Lewis. I wish it was you who retired and not Nico," I snap with vemon lacing my voice making Lewis stride towards me and push me against the wall. I knew I took it a step to far but truthfully I didn't care. I trusted that Lewis wouldn't hurt me but at the same time even if he did it wouldn't be the first time we hurt each other. While it was always words I could take a slap to the face like a champ.

"Do you enjoy pissing me off? Because you're a fucking child. You know that? Everyone has to walk on eggshells around you because one wrong move and BOOM the little Mercedes driver with the anger problems is throwing another fucking tantrum," Lewis spits his words into my face making me pull a disgusted face to try and mask the hurt coursing through me.

"You're a fucking asshole, Lewis Hamilton," I spit back making Lewis finally crash his lips onto mine making me gasp against his lips in shock before slightly relaxing into the kiss before pushing Lewis away once I realize who I was kissing.

"Don't fucking do this shit again," I snap at him before both of us fall silent just staring at each other while breathing rapidly.

It was clockwork for us, we go at each other's throats and somehow find ourselves in each other's bed to somehow kiss and make up, but in reality, all it is, is putting a fucking bandaid on a bullet hole.

At the same moment, Lewis and I are back to aggressively making out fighting for dominance. I get Lewis to the bed first making him sit down before I start pushing at his shoulders before I'm climbing into his lap taking control, which lasts about .3 seconds before I am being flipped around resulting in my back roughly hitting the hard physio table.

"Always such a fucking brat, trying to take control like that's your role," Lewis says while grinding his hips into mine making me moan at the pleasure.

"One of these days your little outbursts and attitude is gonna leave you ass so sore you won't be able to race," Lewis says making me roll my eyes at his threats.

"Then you won't get the damn slipstream you want so bad," I fight back with a satisfied smirk on my face with is quickly slapped off. I mean literally, Lewis slapped my face not necessarily softly but far from as hard as he could.

Lewis knew I loved when he mixed a bit of pain with my pleasure and early on found out he could send a quick slap to my face and it'll shut me up pretty quickly.

I just whimper when the sting settles in and I register what happened. Lewis is instantly gripping at my clothes and undressing me with no problem.

When I'm completely bare for Lewis he's like a madman being released because his mouth is instantly all over my pussy while also slipping three fingers into my unprepared hole making me softly scream at the stretch.

Lewis is instantly throwing his free hand over my mouth successfully muffling my screams not wanting anyone to walk by and hear what is going on between the two known rivals.

Lewis knew exactly what he was doing, so it was no shocker to him when I started begging to cum.

"Please, sir. I need it," I whine against his large hand that is still covering my mouth.

"Go on, it's the only thing you're good at," Lewis finally gives me permission making me instantly release my orgasm spraying my pleasure all over Lewis's face and soaking the shirt he was still wearing.

When I gether myself enough I look down to see the damage that has been done and it was so hot to see Lewis soaked with my juices.

"You're giving me at least two more before I even think about giving you my cock," Lewis said roughly while still finger fucking me making me whimper at the overstimulation.

Lewis knew my body better than anyone else ever has, which is only because he tied me to my hotel bed and explored my body until the sun rose finding all the ways he could make me cum, scream, whine, beg, you name it he probably discovered it that night. The night he found out I could squirt several times in a row in quick succession if he just kept going.

"Sir," I announce loudly when I feel the band in my stomach start to grow again.

"Go on," Lewis says with a sass in his voice almost like he was annoyed.

"Oh fuck," I whimper out when I finally feel the band snap making me start spraying all over Lewis's driver's room again.

"God, you're so fucking easy. I bet I could make you squirt if I looked at you hard enough," Lewis said in mockery knowing damn well he could blow a little bit of air on my clit and I'd be cumming for him in a matter of seconds.

"I need one more," Lewis said while speeding up his fingers again making me whine when I feel my third orgasm approaching making me squirm trying to get away but Lewis was far stronger than me making it easy to overpower me and keep me down while he finger fucks me into another squirting orgasm that has me gasping for air. I could hear my squirt hitting difference surfaces around us making the deed that much dirtier.

I am sure everyone will hear about this by the next race because no way the poor cleaner who has to come in after us will keep their mouth shut when they realize the dried liquid all around the room is in fact the evidence of the pleasure of the female driver.

"Good fucking girl! Good to know your ears work sometimes," Lewis says while stepping away from my pussy before sending a rough slap down on my sensitive clit making me jerk and a little bit a squirt come out making Lewis laugh at the slut he had turned me into for him.

"Please sir, more," I gasp when I feel Lewis's tip teasing my dripping entrance inviting him to sink in.

"You know you're so infuriating. Walking around like you own the place and then come back to my room to get fucked properly" says Lewis as he sinks into my pussy making me whimper at the stretch.

"Fucking hell, how are you still this fucking tihgt?" Lewis questions while he starts thrusting making me whimper feeling the stretch all over my body.

"Fuck, I'm gonna have to spend more time in you, maybe make you sleep with my cock burried in this pussy, make it a perfect fucking fit for me to play with," Lewis continues making me whimer and clench around him.

"So good, sir," I gasp when Lewis's hips are snapping into mine at a brutal pace.

"Fuck! How are you about to cum again," Lewis groans when he feels my pussy contracting around his cock ready to fall into another orgasm.

"You know what to do," Lewis says giving me permission for my fourth orgasm of the night making me scream out loudly.

My tightening pussy was Lewis's final straw because next thing I know he's pulling out and cumming on my stomach making sure to paint my tits a bit with his cum.

He loved the way he could coat my body in his cum.

Once Lewis settles down from his pleasure he climbs out of the hard bed looking for a towel he can use to whip me down.

Once I'm clean from his cum he pulls me up slightly so he can stand between my legs while he holds me to his chest.

"You think Toto knows the truth?" I mumble against Lewis's tattooed chest making me chuckle softly.

"Probably and if not before he's definitely gonna think we listened to his advice," Lewis jokes making me laugh with him.

"We have a problem," I mumble burying my face into his chest not wanting to admit the problem.

"What is it, sweet girl?" Lewis questions showing me the sweet side I only got to see after moments like this or early in the morning when we knew no one could see that the two rivals actually had hearts.

"I can't feel my legs and I truthfully do not want to get into someone else's car covered in sweat and cum," I mumble making Lewis laugh lightly.

"Well you have in fact left your sweat and cum in my car so I'll take us back to the hotel, and I have no issues holding you until you're ready," Lewis tells me softly before picking me up into his arms and pulling us to the couch where he held me.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have screamed in your face like that," Lewis apologizes clearly embarrassed by his actions.

"I said some pretty ugly things too. I think we need to work on that," I tell him softly making him hum in agreeance.

"Still want you to fuck me like that, even if it does make driving a bit uncomfortable," I tell him making Lewis let out a belly laugh.

"I'll always fuck you like a whore. You love it too much for me to stop," Lewis tells me making me smile.

We lay like that for another thirty minutes before we heard a knock on the door before we could hear Toto's voice shout, "I see you took my advice! It better fucking work!"

Lewis and I just laugh at being called out but make no move to get up and get dressed knowing Toto wasn't going to open the door.

[fools-ramblings-and-whatnot]

Drabbles: Pajamas and Slumber parties

It was a gag gift. A funny group thing Yuu saw on Magicam.

So with little money they had, Yuu ordered the silly thing online for the next time the first years and them had their slumber party at Ramshackle dorm.

When time came and the first years opened up the gift, they cackled at their friends reactions.

"What the Sevens is this Prefect?!"

Yuu just laughed, reminding them that they called the shots tonight.

The first years, when they got together, friends as they may be, always got into a fight which resulted in some damage to the Ramshackle. Whether it was tossling over who gets to pick the movie, fighting over who gets to use the only functional bathroom first, or what time is lights out.

It was chaotic.

So, to lessen future damage, they had made a comprise that every meeting a new person calls in the shots and gets to decide how the slumber party would go.

It just happens to be Yuu's turn. So the Prefect decidedd in a fun friendly activity such as wearing matching pajamas...which is customized, the front having the printed photos of all of the first years in a collage, while the back had " If lost, return to Yuu" embroidered for the rest of them, except for Yuu who had "I'm Yuu" embroidered instead. Ofcourse, Grim has his pajama,too!

"I'm gonna burn this"

"Don't you dare, Ace!"

"This is ridiculous!"

" Its the least you could do after breaking my coffee table in a brawl last time, Epel!"

"This is undignified!"

"Be a good guest, Sebek. Thats not pretty noble of you!I'm the host and I also call the shots tonight"

"Thank you, Prefect..uh..I'll make sure to treasure this !"

"I'd rather you wear it, Deuce."

"I'm out..."

"Jack, fair is fair. We did cactus cultivating last time."

*Defeated sigh*

"I look uncool!"

"No way, yes you do Grim! You're ultracool!

"Its great prefect, thank you!"

"Finally, someone appreciates my work. Thanks Ortho!"

Also, imagine there's another emegency and Crowley just poofs the prefect away from their dorm to their office, but takes the other first years with them cuz magic.

*First years, Grim and Yuu in their silly pajamas, faces covered in facemasks while still holding unto game controllers*

*Crowley, yapping away, doesn't care about the state he poofed them in *

*Dorm leaders and vice dorm leaders, who were also called in for an emergency meeting, staring at their respective first years*

It looks like this but imagine the first years faces instead of the dog. And the cat pawprints instead.

[avcdgrdn]

── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, sfw

word count: 1426

˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚

nothing could have prepared you for the man who walked through the front door of the inn that day.

he looked like death, his chocolate hair tangled, his square jaw riddled with bruises and dirt. heavy eyes fixed themselves upon your figure.

"you got a spare room?"

that voice, gravelly and low, betrayed the exhaustion that plagued this mysterious stranger. you couldn't help but stare for a moment, lost in thought.

"i ... ah, yes, of course. just a room for one?"

your hands swiftly moved to ring him up, pressing a few buttons on the cash register. the man visibly reacted to the metallic sounds of the register, an expression of mild panic settling in.

"yeah ..." he dug through his pockets, patting himself over until he secured a grip on his wallet. pulling it out, he flipped it open, revealing nothing but an ID and a few sticks of gum. he clicked his tongue, defeated. "... this is embarrassing."

it was evident that something wasn't right with him; he looked as if he could collapse at any given moment. should you just deny him service and let him leave? what if he just got himself into deeper trouble? was he even in his right mind?

there was a fleeting moment of awkward silence as the two of you avoided eye contact. you took a sharp breath in.

"... tell me, sir, what's your name?"

his bushy brows rose in surprise. "er ... stan. stan pines." stan gave you a once-over, pulling a sly smirk despite his run-down appearance. "why? ya like what you see?"

a sort of scoffing chuckle left your lips. "this isn't really the time for jokes ..." your eyes trailed down to his stained jacket, torn-up jeans, and over worn shoes. at that, he laughed, which quickly turned into a painful cough. the concern became more evident on your face.

"-ah, you're right, of course. nobody would really want a guy like me, yeah?"

you couldn't bring yourself to respond to that. you could see the storm in his eyes.

turning your back to the counter, you picked up a key that was hanging from the wall, holding it out to him as you met his confused gaze.

"room 34. your stay will be on the house tonight, sir."

"... you're pullin' my leg."

"no, i'm perfectly serious."

hesitantly, he reached out his hand to take the key. your fingers brushed against his rough skin briefly before you pulled your arm back.

stan simply stood there, still processing what had just been given to him. he'd tried this before with numerous other places, and they'd all shut him down. he'd been through ... how many, four, five different states by now? finally, a night where he doesn't have to sleep in his car. the notion of spending a night in an actual bed ... seemed unreal.

"well, i ... damn. th-thanks, toots." he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. a faint shade of pink rose to his cheeks, which he attempted to play off by staring at the ground.

how long had it been since anyone had shown him this kind of generosity?

unsure of what to do, he decided to make his way over to his room, locating the staircase and climbing up, stealing a glance back at you. you watched him ascend the stairs, leaning your arms against the counter.

your mind continued to race. the man looked like he'd just been in a fight. did he have wounds that needed treatment? did he have any place to go? ... of course, those were all personal questions that you knew you shouldn't ask about. he is only a customer ... at least you could offer him somewhere to crash for the night.

it had been two hours.

two hours, and yet, you still couldn't get him off your mind.

you figured you might be able to offer him some dinner.

or was that just you trying to come up with an excuse to see him again? you didn't think about it too hard.

making your way over to the kitchen, you had the chef prep a single serving of food, laying it out on a tray which you picked up and began to walk with. the carpeted floor softened the sound of your footsteps.

arriving at the end of the hall, you stood in front of the door labeled "34", hesitating. you steeled your nerves and knocked gently on its wooden surface.

a few moments passed. you could hear the sound of rustling fabric and footsteps as stan made his way over to the door, opening it and observing his visitor. he was dressed in a bathrobe, his hair damp and his face looking much cleaner than before.

"sorry if i came at a bad time. i just figured you might want a bite to eat." you averted your eyes by glancing to the tray of food you held, a faint blush rising to your face.

twinkling lights began to glisten in place of the dark storm you'd seen in him before. his expression softened in disbelief, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

eventually, he spoke.

"why are you doing this?"

"... what do you mean?"

"i mean, you're wastin' your good food 'nd room. you deserve your money-"

he cut himself off, swallowing back a bitter feeling in his throat.

"-i ... i need to ... pay it back."

oh. is he ... crying?

you could feel your heart wrench in your chest. "s-stan. it's okay."

he furiously blinked back tears, taking a deep breath and putting on a weary grin. "will ya keep that food hot for me? i'm just gonna get dressed. i think i'll eat it downstairs."

"oh, of course."

"thanks a bunch." he winked at you, then shut the door, leaving you to stare at the room label again. you blinked, then turned around to head back down.

after some time of waiting in the kitchen, you caught the sight of him descending the staircase and walking over to you. he was wearing a different shirt, although his jacket and jeans were the same. his hair was dry and much poofier now that it was clean. you caught yourself staring at his mullet.

"didja wait for too long?" stan pulled out a stool from the bar, taking a seat and watching as you put his plate of food in front of him.

"nah, you're okay." you offered a small smile. "feel free to dig in."

and boy, did he dig in. this man hasn't had a proper meal in forever. his daily diet has consisted of strictly rationed cheap snacks and the occasional stolen burger and fries. you swore you've never seen a guy so happy to eat something before in your life. somehow, watching him was making you feel warm inside.

"this ... is the best food i ever tasted." stan mumbled, looking up at you in between bites. all sorts of different emotions were raging inside of him, and the feeling of being properly nourished was bringing them up to the surface. his brown eyes began to overflow with tears, and he cursed underneath his breath, eating more aggressively to try and distract himself.

"uh, stan? are you alright?"

that was the last straw. his brows knit together and he swallowed his food, dropping his fork onto the plate. the tears were flowing freely now.

"no. dammit, i'm not alright."

stan covered his face with one arm, his broad frame trembling as he choked back bitter sobs.

"it's just that ... m-my parents, and i ... s-see- and my brother-"

he hunched over, shifting to cover his face with both hands. everything was crashing down.

"oh, God, my brother ..."

you walked out from behind the bar, making your way over to where he sat and taking the seat next to him. you didn't really think at all, you just slid your arm around his back and-

the instant he felt your touch, stanley clung onto you desperately.

onto somebody who was showing him hospitality. onto somebody who cared enough to worry about his health. onto somebody unlike anybody else he'd met these past few years.

burying his face into your shoulder, he pulled you closer against him.

"'m sorry ... don't leave me alone."

the wetness of his tears soaked into your shirt, but you didn't mind. here in your arms was a little boy who just needed a hug.

you barely knew each other, but you had a feeling that was going to change.

"don't worry, i'm not going anywhere."

end