#ESTABLISHED SOME CREDIT IN TWO MONTHS.

[swagging-back-to]

got denied for the credit card bc my w-2 doesnt show my full social security number and capital one thinks it's realistic at all to expect paystubs to have your full uncensored social security number WHEN NOT EVEN YOUR TAX FORMS DO!

had to apply for a new social security card. had to sign up for a website. which theyre sending the activation code to me BY MAIL FOR. literally fucking the mail. and then i have to activate that and ONLY THEN will they consider ssenidng me a new card---which will take ANOTHER WEEK to get here at least. and then i have to MAIL the card to capital one so they'll continue my credit application.

[deadhands69]

A Nice Fantasy with Nice Shoulders, 2

MDNI

The follow-up to Katsuki Bakugo helping with a sex quirk here, thanks for the suggestion to do another one @jovialgalaxymilkshake

Katsuki Bakugo x gn/afab reader

All characters over 18 and you should be too if you're reading this.

Warnings/Content/etc: soft!Bakugo gets insecure but don't worry it's fluffy, established relationship, swearing, oral (f receiving), sex (various positions.)

*this was written kind of fast and not proofread, sorry for any typos

A few things have happened in the month since Katsuki Bakugo helped you survive a sex quirk. 

One, Mineta had become completely terrified of you. Which is fair and appreciated. He received some form of punishment keeping him busy elsewhere, but you still ran into him occasionally. Seeing him run from the room every time you entered made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Two, your friends all seem oddly supportive. You were surprised to learn, most of them knew one or both sides of you harboring feelings for each other. After the initial awkwardness in the way they found out, everything felt pretty normal again. Most of them were only shocked because they, like you initially, assumed he had left for the weekend. (this group does not include Izuku Midoria who was, and still is, pretty horrified after seeing the bite mark his childhood friend left on your neck. Still, he’s outwardly trying to be supportive.)

Three, sadly, Katsuki hasn't touched you much since. Sure, he held your hand and kissed you but made no effort to take things further. You weren’t sure if it was in your head, but he almost seemed to pull away when your kissing became more passionate. 

That's not to say you weren't still enjoying his company. Things had otherwise been going amazingly. From day one, he took you on cute coffee dates where your conversations flowed easily. Nice walks around the park, holding hands. Movie nights in his room, cuddled up for hours. He buys you flowers, makes you food, and acts like the perfect boyfriend. That much is obvious to anyone around you.

But no one knows you aren’t sleeping together. He’s stayed just as possessive and close as before too. In lieu of covering your neck in marks again, he’s been latched to your side, dragging you around with him wherever he goes and glaring at anyone who’s eyes linger. It’s kind of endearing, in a Katsuki way.

You know he wanted to make-up for what he wished he had done prior to hooking up with you, and you appreciate it, but it’s been a month and he’s still keeping everything G rated. This feels like a huge contrast to the rest of your class who are fucking constantly. Shouto took Momo on a few dates before resuming their sexual relationship. Mina and Kiri never stopped. It’s only you and Bakugo who scaled things that far back and stayed there. It’s becoming confusing.

The credits roll on the low budget horror movie playing on his laptop. Already half seated on his lap, you press yourself up to straddle his hips. Playfully, you peck his lips. He smiles and returns the light kiss as you run your hands through his soft hair. Pulling a handful, you tilt his face up and deepen the kiss. You feel him grow hard against your leg before he pulls his lips away, resting his forehead on your shoulder. 

“Uhm,” you’re unsure how to start this conversation without making it sound like he’s doing anything wrong but you try. “It’s been really great spending time with you. Really. You’re so much sweeter than I ever could have imagined.” His eyes cast down, jaw clenching. He already knows where this is going. “But, it’s been a month and it would be fun to do more than just hold your hand and barely kiss you. It’s not anything we haven’t already done.”

His blonde head nods beneath you.

“And I get it if you’re not ready, you can say that-”

“I’m okay with it and whatever, just don’t feel like it right now.” he presses you back onto the bed, “I’m tired.”

“Okay,” you say with uncertainty, “night.”

Weird, you think to yourself on the walk back to your dorm. Maybe it wasn’t as fun for him the first time as it was for you.

Deciding it’s definitely not in your head, you make a mental note to text Shouto in the morning for a second opinion. 

As you could have predicted, Shouto is just as clueless as you are regarding Katsuki’s actions (or lack thereof.)

“I don’t know, Bakugo’s a weird dude. I haven’t seen him with a girlfriend either so I really don’t have anything to compare this to. I’ll ask Kirishima in class later, they’re closer so maybe he will know.”

“Thanks, Sho!” you respond before huge hands engulf your shoulders. Katsuki rests his head on top of yours before asking if you’re ready to grab coffee before class. You know he’s a bit jealous of the interaction, but after weeks of reassuring him Shouto is your best friend, and only your friend, he knows he needs to try to be nice.

“See ya, Icy-Hot,” he grumbles before half pulling you out the door.

A few hours later, you’re laying on Katsuki’s bed while studying in his room. Your phone buzzes.

Kiri [hey, trouble in paradise with Bakubro?]

You [not trouble exactly]

You [he just hasn’t really wanted to do anything again after the first time]

Kiri [that’s weird]

Kiri [he’s been in love with you for years, maybe he just doesn’t think you want to?]

You [that’s definitely not it]

Forgetting to hide your reactions, you look up to see red eyes glaring at you from across the room.

“What’s up?” he asks tentatively, moving to the bed next to you.

“Nothing,” you answer.

“It’s definitely not nothing. Not with that face,” he reaches over you to grab your phone. Your arms extend, but his are longer so he takes it with ease.

Looking at the conversation, he stiffens. After a few reads, he sets your phone on the bed by you again before hanging his head in his hands.

Shit.

“I really like you, ya know,” he mumbles so quietly you almost don’t hear it.

“But..?” you ask, terrified it’s all about to end.

“There’s not a but,” he pauses, closing his eyes before continuing, “quirks like that’ll make you enjoy things more. What if I’m disappointing and you realize you don’t want any of this with me?”

Wait, what? Katsuki Bakugo whose name you screamed when he made you cum repeatedly is now insecure about sleeping with you? What universe is this?

You try so hard to hold back but can’t help yourself and start laughing hysterically.

He looks annoyed.

“It’s not funny…”

“Seriously?” you choke out, “even if you’re absolute garbage in bed, which you’re not, you’re hands down the best boyfriend ever. Why would I give this up?”

“Just don’t wanna disappoint you.”

“You won’t. I promise.” 

At that, you pull him onto the bed with you, gently pressing your lips onto his before kissing him harder. This time, he doesn’t object. His hands explore your body, feeling every part of you he’s missed so much over the past few weeks. 

“Been thinking about you all day,” he breathes into your ear while hurriedly pulling both of your clothes off, “wanna make you feel good.” 

Lightly, he nips at your neck before kissing his way down your body and settling between your legs. Your hand cups his cheek before brushing the hair away from his eyes. Tentatively, he kisses you. Starting at your inner thighs, moving in. You feel his hot breath on your lips before his tongue finds your clit - sending tingles through your body.

“Fuck, you’re good,” you moan, gripping his hair a bit tighter. He continues lapping at your folds, grabbing your free hand and squeezing.

You glance down. Crimson eyes stare back at you, his lips glistening as he moans into your cunt. He’s enjoying this as much as you are. 

One of his fingers presses at your entrance, you nod in approval. He smiles, slides it in, and resumes sucking on your clit. You whimper, clenching at him inside you. Adding another finger, he brings you over the edge. Smashing your thighs against his head, you moan his name while he continues grinding his hand and mouth into you. 

He rests his whole face against you as the two of you catch your breath. Loosening your grip on him, your legs relax and you stroke his messy hair.

Eventually, he makes his way back up to your face. You feel him hard between your legs as his wet lips meet with yours. 

“You could never be a disappointment,” you whisper to him between heavy kisses. 

Pulling your hips up towards him, he grinds into you a few times before pressing his tip further.

You feel the stretch as he slides in. He catches his breath for a moment before moving. His speed increases, hitting further and further in with every thrust.

In the last month, you’d been dreaming of the way he feels. How his dick hits every perfect spot inside you. Before you know it, you’re overcome with pleasure. Your walls throbbing around him while you grip his back.

“Missed your pretty noises,” he groans into your ear before pulling back to flip you over. 

Without missing any time, he’s in you again. He leans forward. One of his arms wraps around you, the other tangles into your hair, pulling you close to him. A few hard slams and you feel him twitch inside of you.

“Fuck, sorry,” he slips out and you feel his warm cum explode on your ass, trickling down the side.

“Shit, that’s so hot,” he mumbles to himself, sitting up to admire the mess he made while absentmindedly stroking your hip. 

Ten minutes later, you’re cleaned up wearing his giant (on you) t-shirt and your underwear. You cuddle up to him while he starts another awful d-list horror movie. 

“Still mine?” he asks, wrapping his arms around you. You smile knowing that was never in question for you.

m.list

[rafeandonlyrafe]

accused (part two)

words: 1k

warnings: established relationship, accusations of stealing, protective!rafe (hes such a good boyfriend <3)

followed (part one) / accused (part two)

“hi.” you smile, cheeks slightly blushed.

“hello, beautiful.” rafe doesn't give you time to be nervous, pulling you into a hug.

you relax into his hold, taking a deep inhale and exhale as your cheek rests against his chest, remembering the solace you found in his arms when you needed it most.

“excited?” rafe asks.

“we are just getting ice cream together.” you giggle.

“yeah, sure.” rafe joins in your laughter, loving the way it sounds in his ears. “but it's an ice cream date.”

“does that mean you're gonna kiss me goodnight?” you look at the rapidly setting sun. 

“of course.” rafe loops your hands together, guiding you towards the line to order.

-- 6 months later --

“missed you.” you wrap your arms around rafes shoulders, pulling him down into a strong kiss.

“missed you too, baby.” rafe doesn't point out that it's only been a couple days, having to spend the weekend apart as you were out of town with your parents.

“what are your plans?” rafe asks, hands gently massaging up and down your back.

“hanging out with you all day-”

“and night.” rafe interrupts you, smirking.

“anyways, then shopping with the girls tomorrow. we might also go out for dinner.” you shrug.

“sounds fun.” rafe nods. “just staying on the island though, right?” rafe knows you usually like to go inland or up the coast to shop, but that's usually a longer planned trip.

“mhm. just gonna hit all those little boutiques.” you shake your head, “but i dont wanna talk about tomorrows plans.”

“what do you wanna talk about then, sweetheart?” rafe asks.

“don't wanna talk.” you admit shyly. “just wanna kiss you.”

rafe bends down, lifting you up with large hands under his thighs, rushing up the stairs. “we can definitely do that, baby.

--

“that looks so cute on you!” you squeal, grabbing your friend giannas hand and pulling her over to the mirror.

“i love it!” she gushes before checking the pricetag. “only $85, im absolutely buying it.”

“oh, girl that's a steal!” you nod. 

“it's not like you don't have rafes credit card.” tina rolls her eyes, but there's a smile on her face to convey she's not serious.

“he says to buy whatever i want, as long as i give him a fashion show when i get home.” you say as gianna heads back into the changing room to get back into her clothes.

you pull out your phone to text rafe an update as tina does the same to her boyfriend.

hey rafeyyy miss you! shopping is going so well 💕 I think we're gonna hit up like two or three more stores and then ill be home!

alright, princess. have fun. see you real soon ❤️

“can i take some of the dresses?” the voice makes you jump, not even realizing that the shop owner was standing in front of gianna, hand outstretched.

“uh, yeah.” she hands over two of the hangers. “im not getting these two.”

the owner makes a disgruntled face, looking over the other two dresses gianna is still holding. “where's the other dress?”

“what dress?” you interject.

“yeah, she only tried on four.” tina adds.

“well, i saw five go in. you'll have to empty your bag.”

gianna is only wearing a small purse, no way a dress would even fit inside of it, but that's not the point, it's the principle that counts.

“hell no!” you say. “check the security cameras if you want, but we aren't allowing you to search us.”

“really?” the shop keepers eyebrows rise, like she expected you to just bow your head since you're a group of younger girls. “i guess you'll just have to pay for the dress i saw go into the dressing room and didn't come out. its $500.”

you pull out your phone, furiously messaging rafe and sending him your location.

“you messed with the wrong person.” tina shakes her head.

“and here, i don't want these either.” gianna hands the owner the other two dresses, even the one she loved.

“yeah, we will never shop here again.” tina says.

“we don't need thieves like you, anyways!” she grabs the dresses. “just pay for the one you're trying to steal and get out!”

you're sure if she pulled this scam on other people that they'd just get sick of the arguing and pay up, but you're absolutely refusing to play into her little game.

you smile as you hear the door open then slam closed, turning to see rafe with an angry look on his face.

“thank god you're here, rafe. this lady is trying to say we're stealing from her but refuses to watch the security cameras.” you inform him.

“is that so?” rafe looks around the shop. 

“rafe…” the shop keeper mumbles, trying to figure out why she knows the name. “you're rafe cameron?”

“yeah.” he crosses his arms. “like cameron development cameron. you know, the ones who own this entire block? including your landlords?” rafe tsks, shaking his head side to side. “i wonder what my dad would say if he knew you were accosting his son's girlfriend.”

“im-im sorry. i think this is all a big misunderstanding.” the owner quickly quoted, rushing away back to the counter.

“gianna, tina, you girls okay?” rafe asks.

“yeah.” tina twirls her hair around her finger, making you give her a quick glare.

“all good, thanks rafe.” gianna nods.

“lets get you girls out of here.” rafe wraps his arm around your shoulder, leading you out of the shop. 

he presses a kiss to the top of your head once you're outside, leading you a couple steps away from your friends. “want to keep shopping? or are you done?”

“maybe…” you pout your lower lip out and look up at rafe. “maybe you could come with us to the next couple shops?”

rafe can't control the smile that stretches over his cheeks. “id be more than happy to, baby.”

you let out a little squeal, pressing your lips against his cheek. “i hate to say it, but thank god that guy followed me that day. cause i got the best boyfriend ever out of it.”

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

[jjunberry]

Tied up reader for jeonghan 🤓🤓

❝ with a bow ❞

yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

genre: established relationship, smut

warnings: dom jeonghan, brat/sub reader, rope/ribbon play, pet names, degradation, oral fem receiving, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating

wc: 1k mlist

jeonghan has a box under the bed filled with different ribbons and ropes. he used them rarely, only really when you were a brat and he had to teach you a lesson. your goal today was to get him angry enough for the box to come out. you’ve decided to be a brat all day.

it started when you changed his alarm for work, setting it an hour later than normal. when his alarm went off he noticed how much brighter it was outside. “what the fuck?,” he groaned, moving your arm from his waist. he angrily got dressed and left the apartment.

you giggled sitting up in bed, you grabbed your phone seeing it was 8:35am, he was due at the studio an hour ago. scrolling through your notifications you seen a text from your boyfriend.

jeonghan ♡: changing my alarm really baby? don’t be such a brat.

you smiled accepting the challenge. after a quick shower and short breakfast, you got dressed for the day. a day of shopping with jeonghan’s credit card. you first stopped to get coffee, you knew jeonghan had notifications on his phone. deciding the mall was the best place you headed there.

ulta beauty was first, five-hundred dollars here. next was victoria’s secret, two thousand there. you of course had to stop and get some new clothing, another thousand spent. your arms started to get tired from all the bags, usually jeonghan carried them for you.

with one last stop to the jewelry store you bought a few new necklaces, a ring set and a new watch for jeonghan. another two thousand dollars spent. part of the plan was ignoring jeonghan while he worked, so the 40 missed texts, and 15 missed calls didn’t really surprise you.

you couldn’t wait to get home, you found a cute baby pink set. the thin lacy material barely covering you. left nothing to the imagination. once you got home you changed into the lingerie set, and used your new makeup.

satisfied with how you looked, you posed in the mirror taking photos. of course you made sure the bags were visible in the background. with a giggle you sent your favorite photos to jeonghan with the simple caption “thinking of you.”

it didn’t take jeonghan long to answer you.

jeonghan ♡: i see you went shopping, 5,500$ that’s a little low baby, perhaps because you didn’t ask. i’ll be home in 20 mins. i expect you to be waiting on that bed for me.

the chill that went through you was quickly replaced with excitement. the thought of jeonghan punishing you had you soaked. you laid on your bed, your fingers finding your clit. you rubbed slowly, bringing your other hand up to pinch your nipple.

to caught up in the moment you didn’t hear the front door. jeonghan made his way upstairs, his body leaned against the door frame of your bedroom, eyes taking in your body dressed in the lacy pink fabric.

“cum and i won’t touch you for a month,” his interruption had you halting your actions. “h-hannie, you’re home early.” you said closing your legs. “don’t play dumb, you’ve been a brat all day.”

he walked towards the bed and crouched, you sat up on your knees peering down at him. jeonghan pulled the box from underneath, and when he lifted the lid his eyes scanned the contents.

“you’ve been a naughty girl y/n,” he reached inside and grabbed the pink fabric. “i’ll have to teach you a lesson.” he closed the lid and stood quickly. he flipped you on your stomach, bringing your hands behind your back.

he wrapped the pink ribbon around your torso, securing the knot around your wrists with a bow. you wiggled attempting to move but the ribbon restricted your movement. he grabbed the extra ribbon and tied your legs together, securing the knot around your ankles with another bow.

jeonghan took a step back from the bed, taking in the view. “hannie,” you whined. he ignored you as he unbuckled his belt, allowing his pants to drop. out of the corner of your eye you could see the outline of his erection.

jeonghan freed himself from his boxers, his hand pumping himself. precum leaked from his tip, you bit your lip to stop the whines. “be quiet and maybe i’ll let you cum,” his voice was low.

his hand spread you apart, your juices leaking around his fingers. “such a slut,” he tsked. he could see you clenching around nothing, “so desperate for me, aren’t you?” he smirked. before you knew it he was pushing himself into you.

you could taste blood with how hard you bit your lip, trying to be quiet so desperate to cum. jeonghan moaned as he bottomed out, “fuck, you take me so well baby.” he rocked his hips, his tip brushing your cervix. “mhm fuck,” his moans were like music to your ears.

the knot in your stomach was quick to grown, but you couldn’t let go in fear of him denying your orgasm. jeonghan had his head thrown back as he snapped his hips into yours.

“mhm fuck baby i’m gonna cum,” his hips snapped into yours roughly before his actions stilled, his cum spilling into you. painting your walls white, the hot cum leaked out once he pulled away. your body shook at the loss of contact. “should i reward you?” he asked backing away slightly.

your tied up form making his dick twitch again. “p-please hannie, i’m sorry i’ll be good,” you begged. he smirked before diving into your cunt, lapping up the mixture of your wetness and his cum.

his tongue and fingers were quick to get you there, the knot in your stomach snapped. you came all over his tongue, squeezing out the last of his cum and yours. jeonghan wiped his mouth and smirked. “there’s my good girl,” he untied you allowing your limbs to rest.

you ignored the ache in your limbs as you threw your arms around jeonghan’s neck. “i-i’m sorry hannie, i’ll be your good girl,” he smirked holding you close. “i know you will baby, but even good girls deserve some fun,” he guided you to the bathroom. there he ran you a hot bath, and sat with you.

you smiled, it was so worth being a brat sometimes.

🗒️: thinking of requesting? read my guidelines.

author’s note: i swear i’m not a rope bunny y’all but for jeonghan i would be 🤭 hehe

love, echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

© jjunberry - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[monarchberrysblog]

UNDER THE STARS ⋆⭒

⋆｡°✩ part two to: NOTHING BUT TROUBLE

credit to: @mar_marOu on Instagram & @/marmarOu on X and Tumblr!

✭ 🔞 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✭

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: sometimes, a hero and a vigilante need a break from the hectic city environment.

✭ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃. miguel and the reader are in an established relationship, brief mentions of kleptomania, exhibitionism (both of y'all literally don't give a fuck but seriously, don’t do freaky stuff outside), cumplay (?), cum eatting (we are going there too), uncircumcised peepee 🤭, hard? dom! miguel, assertive behavior from the reader, cunnilingus (f! receiving), unprotected p-in-v (please go to your local planned parenthood to educate yourself), and heavy breeding kink. (he scrambles your eggs 😝)

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: +1.6k words 🤭

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Nothing But Trouble blew up overnight! thank you for your undying support! it means a lot to me 😭 if there are errors, i do apologize, it's been a month since I looked at this. I'm slowly getting back in the groove.

here’s to my followers! y’all live in my basement now 🐈‍⬛ 🩵

The low clouds in Nueva York cascaded onto the ground, creating a murky environment in now empty streets. It was a quiet night, even for Nueva York. Within the apartment buildings of the hustling city, many were home, sheltered away from the smog air. Some were fast asleep in bed with their blankets, and others were cooking a warm meal for the evening. But for you, you were dragged out of your soft, cozy bed past the window edge decorated with many potted plants and small trinkets. You were now climbing the fire escape, wearing your pajamas and a simple black sweater.

The cat dragged you out into the cold environment, away from your warm, cozy bed. You yawned as you climbed up, swiftly up the fire escape, feeling the now wet bars against the palm of your hand.

The memory of seeing a text message from Miguel immediately came to mind when your slipper fell off your foot, causing you to shoot a web at it to retreat.

The "I want to see you real quick" text meant nothing but trouble from him. He was always up to no good, leaving a little mess behind, like a cat playing with a ball of yawn, only for the poor creature to be tangled in its consequence with big, teary eyes.

Nonetheless, you continued your climb up, finally reaching the rooftop.

The cold air nipped at your skin, piercing its cold air needles through your sweater and pajamas. Bringing your hands close to your mouth, you exhale warmly to your freezing digits, rubbing your hands, seeking friction to warm your dead, lifeless fingers temporarily.

You stand idly, waiting for his arrival.

A puff of smoke escaped your lips while you yearned for your return to your warm bed and away from the cold weather. Then, your vision darkened. A pair of large hands shield your eyes from the skyscraper lights of Nueva York. "Miguel!" You squeaked, reached to grasp his hands, and forcefully attempted to pull them away from your face. "Seems like you're happy to see me." He croons against the shell of your ear. His voice vibrates against your eardrums, reverberating down to your core. "Tell me why you're here...!" You finally pull his hands away from your eyes and turn around to see him.

"I can't see my favorite person in the whole wide world?"

"No, no, you can't."

"Ouch, I'm hurt." He feigns pain, placing a hand against his "aching" chest cavity. You chuckle, delivering a punch against his shoulder, and sigh. "Really, why are you here?" He chuckles at the question, his palm rubbing away the aching punch that blossomed under his skin. "I have something for you-"

"Did you steal it?"

He frowns at the question. Sure, it was a given that he tended to snatch the next shiny thing in sight, but this time, it was... different.

"No...!" He hisses. "I bought it with my own money." He reaches down to his toolbelt and grabs a drawbag. He opens the tiny draw bag and retrieves a small royal blue box. "It's for you." He tosses the box to you. The little box jumps around your hands before it settles down on your palm. "I hope you like it." He huffs a bit of his cheeks while watching closely.

Your hands move independently, opening the tiny container. The velvet plush container revealed a heart-shaped necklace; the midnight blue stone glistened in the moonlight, shining independently. "Miguel...?"

"Now, don't get sappy on me." He scoffs, displaying a frown. Behind the frown, a smile waits to be displayed. He browsed at multiple boutiques, hoping to find something that was meant to be for you. Something that stood out from the rest. Simple, but it was made for you. "You got this for me?" You pout and soon retrieve the necklace from the velvet box.

"Do you like it?" The question felt boyish, even for him. But it was such a cute action coming from him.

"Yes! Oh my god! Help me put it on!" You bounced on the balls of your feet, ready to be climbing on the walls. "Put it on me, put it on me!" You repeat the phrase as a mantra, handing him the necklace to help you put it on. His frown breaks as he chuckles and assists you put the necklace on. "Do you like it-" He repeats and immediately gets jumped into an unsuspecting embrace. "Stop asking the question! Yes, I love it!" Your laughter fills the space as Miguel's hands work to get a proper hold of your bottom. Your laughter filled the space before the slowly descended to soft giggles and sighs.

His nose nudges against the tip of your nose, slowly creating a gap of silence between you. "Hi..." you whisper, nudging your nose against his. "Hey, " he croons as he nuzzles closer, planting a gentle kiss against your lips, molding your lips perfectly. You hum at the contact and enable the soft kiss. His fingers dig into the plush of your bottom as his claws sink deep into your skin.

Soft suckles and sighs fill your personal bubbles before pinning you down against the ledge. Your hands grasp Miguel's bicep before his chuckle greets your ears. "C'mere..." His hands move to hold onto your hips and drag you closer to his hips, rubbing himself against you at a slow, agonizing pace. "Even when it's cold out, you are warm."

You turn to look down, seeing the hustle and bustle of the streets, the lights looking nothing but a speck of light. "No one is gonna see us." He hums before he nuzzles his way to the crook of your neck, slowly placing soft kisses and trailing them back to your lips.

"Are you sure?" You push the question and lean closer to the soft butterfly kisses against your skin. "It's dark, no one is going to see." He rubs his straining member against your aching core, fluttering and waiting to be penetrated. His hands tug away at your sleep shorts, desperate to cease them off your body.

The thin line of arousal builds up against the gusset of your underwear, the slick, clear arousal clinging against your folds. "Let me get a taste." He pulls away the gusset, his fingers feeling the warmth and heat against his digits. "Look at that; you were already preparing for me..."

He kisses his way down to your core, almost moaning at the scent. You were his catnip, the temptation luring him to you, to roll his tongue at the liquid, sticky ecstasy, to drown in it.

His nose budgets against your clit as his tongue laps at your entrance, collecting the taste. The cold air, accompanying his warm breath, nipped at you as your walls clenched around nothing. You are opened up to him like a blooming flower, exposing more of your now sensitive clit. “You are too sweet…” His voice is muffled thanks to his tongue licking your entrance from the bottom to the top.

Your eyes shoot open when you feel his middle finger linger at your entrance, tracing the opening slowly. Your breathing catches you, also as if you were sprinting in a marathon. He pulls away from the intimate kiss from your lips, his lips coated in your mess. "C'mon… let everyone hear you." He purrs and pushes two fingers in, feeling you clench against his digits. "Easy there, quierida." He keeps at a steady pace, immediately hearing the wet slaps. "There we go, there we go..."

The small whimpers evolved into full moans, your moans only audible to him but immediately drowned out by the sound of honking cars and noises in every other corner of the gloomy city's lively life. "Let me hear you, let me hear..." He slurps the sticky discharge before he is immediately shoved into you by your hands. You wailed out, squirming about before he pinned you down. "Open your mouth, now." His demands muffled, not daring to move away from your puffy folds.

You did as he said and screamed out an orgasm, nearly waterboarding him. He pulls away from your puffy folds and is wholly doused. You croak out a noise, ready to say something, but get stopped. “Just keep your mouth open.” He pulls down the zipper of his suit before he frees the strained tent between his legs.

Not earning a warning on time, he spits into your mouth, giving you a taste of your cum. The strong tangy taste and substance stayed in your mouth as you kept your mouth shut in shock. "Swallow it." He heaves before he reaches down between the two of you and lazily pumps his aching cock. You reach down and pull back at the foreskin gently, allowing to see the mauve tip peek out from the extra skin.

You grab his cock, pulling him close to you and pushing him into you. He groans softly at the sensation as he rocks himself in and out of you.

You swallow your cum and bounce on him, following his lead and feeling the familiar pressure between his tip and G-spot. You flutter against his length, trying to create a consistent rhythm, but the rhythm comes out staggered and messy. "You've been working on your kegals? You little slut." He hisses while pushing you down on the ledge.

"You're getting there. I can feel it." Strands of hair begin to stick to his forehead, and sweat soon drips down onto you, landing on your blouse and occasionally on your face. "Together now, you can do it. Hold it, " he demands as the pace increases. You look over at him, mouth agape and eyes pleading. Your hands grasp his exposed bicep, fingernails leaving crescent indents and red streaks.

"No, I know what you're thinking. Not yet." You pull him close, feeling your lower stomach bubble like a witch's cauldron. He leans down, planting you a harsh kiss, his tongue creeping its way to yours. You eagerly oblige, still tasting yourself on his tongue. "Now, go ahead." He rasps, rubbing his thumb against your clit. With one final thrust, you splash the two of you, your mess landing on the floor beneath the two of you.

"There you go, I'm so proud of you." He leans in to kiss your temple and nuzzles close. He slowly pulls out and looks at your pully walls. Not even a moment later, his cum spills out of you, dribbling down past your swelling folds. "Hold on, nena." His fingers gather his cum and push his cum back into you slowly.

He pulls his fingers out, residue lingering on his fingers before he licks the mess off.

"Don't waste a drop."

[hongcherry]

pretty please (love me) || c.sc

Seungcheol knows he can't force you to say the eight words he wants to hear, but seeing you avoid the topic entirely makes him wonder if he's done something wrong, or worse... Do you regret being with him?

🍒 Pairing: Seungcheol x Reader (f) 🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: PG13; Angst, fluff; Established relationship, Pretty Please couple 🍒 Warnings: None, but lmk 🍒 Word Count: 1.2k 🍒 Author’s Note: Can be read as a standalone. This is just something I've had in mind after writing "rid your worries". It's short, but I wanted to give some insight on this topic 🤭 😉

pretty please masterpost | seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty! (ageless/minors/blanks blogs will be blocked)

The room’s dark except for the TV.

Seungcheol has an arm around your shoulders while the other rests on your legs that are across his lap. Your head leans on his body, watching the movie fading to black and cueing the ending credits. You both sit quietly as you let the music fill the silence.

“Are you happy with me?”

Seungcheol’s abrupt question makes you shift to look at him. The TV light casts him in a glow of various colors.

“That was random,” you comment. “Did the movie make you sappy?”

Your teasing smile fades when you realize Seungcheol isn’t humoring your question.

“You’re serious?” you ask, but it’s a mix between a question and a statement.

“Yeah,” he mumbles and glances at the TV again.

“Where did that come from?” you ask.

He sighs and gently untangles himself from you, removing your legs from his lap. He grabs the remote and plunges you both into silence by muting the TV. He cards his fingers through his locks like he’s seriously troubled.

Your hand starts to lift to grab his but stops. You drop it and adjust the blanket you have instead.

“Yes, I’m happy. Are you?” you wonder, heart racing with the possibility of him feeling otherwise. Your fight or flight response tingles in your veins. Surely, this isn’t the beginning of a breakup speech. You’re just overthinking.

“Yes, but,” he starts to say. His two-second pause is enough to make your toes twitch with a need to run. Your heart clenches painfully in anticipation.

“I just feel like I’m not doing enough.”

Your lips dip down. You know you’re not the most affectionate, or when you are, it’s not normally you who initiates it, but you thought Seungcheol knows it’s just because you’re not used to it.

At least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself.

You stare at Seungcheol and see the sadness in his eyes. You slowly realize just how much words mean to him.

You hesitantly reach out. When he doesn’t pull away, you intertwine your fingers.

“You are,” you urge. “I’m sorry I’ve made you feel that way.”

“It’s just,” he trails off like he’s not sure if he wants to continue.

“What is it, Cheol?” you ask gently, still nervous for his response.

He heaves a sigh and stares down at your clasped hands.

“I love you,” he says and raises his head to meet your gaze. “I love you and it’s been nearly four months since we’ve gotten together, and I haven’t been able to tell you that. Any time I’ve tried, you’d cut me off. I thought it was a coincidence at first but even now I can see the panic in your eyes. Did I rush you into this? Do you not like me like I like you?”

You try not to avert your eyes because he might get the wrong impression, but you can’t help it. You look down at the blanket.

You can’t deny he’s not entirely wrong. It wasn’t a coincidence. Your heart would race anxiously anytime he’d start saying those three words. However, it wasn’t his fault you felt this way.

“No, and I… It’s not you, Seungcheol,” you say.

“Did someone say something to you about me? About us?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“I’m… scared,” you finally confess quietly.

“Of me?” he asks, pain in his voice that feeds the growing guilt in your chest.

“No,” you say. “Of making it real.”

Seungcheol squeezes your hand. “We are real. This is real. You, me, together. It’s been four months since making it real.”

His voice is strained from worry and confusion.

You nod and swallow the lump in your throat.

“I’m scared that if I say it, then I’ll be too attached. Too dependent,” you say.

You’re scared that he’ll leave you one day. 

You learned that depending on people only ends in disappointment. You had leaned on your mother, and she left. You had leaned on your father, and he withdrew. You had tried to lean on your old friends and boyfriends, and they’re no longer by your side. The only constant has been Dae, but that wasn’t an easy journey. For Seoah, she’s always been here but has never been close. No thanks to you. Though, you’ve been trying to change that lately. You wonder if Seungcheol will join that list in the future. It would be easier to move on if you didn’t feel so strongly about him.

But even as you tell yourself this, you know it won’t matter.

You’ve already given him a piece of your heart unconsciously. 

“That’s a bad thing?” he asks. “I want you to want me. I want you to confide in me.”

You want to do all those things. It sounds so nice to be able to rely on someone for once. Though any time you’ve nearly caved in, things would go awry. People would leave.

Seungcheol covers the back of your hand with his other. His warmth races up your arm and to your heart.

“I’m not going to hurt you or leave you. Don’t put me in the same category as them,” he says softly.

You bite your lip as you try to push past your fears to believe him. You want to, but it’s not easy to do. It’s not a switch that can be flipped.

“I’ll try not to,” you whisper.

Seungcheol takes a deep breath, then releases it gradually.

You’re not sure if he’s pleased with the answer, but it’s the best you can offer for now.

“I don't want to rush you. I know, or at least I think, you love me too,” he says, “but at least let me say it. I know it’s not easy for you to say it, and I know actions are important too, but I want to tell you it more. Please let me.”

You nod slowly. Maybe if you surround yourself with love, it’ll get easier to show and say it. Even if you try to deny it, you know you love him. And while that scares you, the severity of which you love him scares you more.

Seungcheol lifts your chin so he can see your face.

“I love you, Cherry,” he murmurs.

Your heart flips at his sincerity. It still makes you nervous, but there’s also a bubbly feeling that you focus on instead. While he looks so honest, there’s a hint of desperation. He wants to hear it. 

Your eyes drop down.

“I love you too,” you say quietly. 

Seungcheol exhales almost a sigh of relief. He raises your chin again with a smile.

“Wanna try that again and look at me?” he asks, a little playfully to calm your nerves.

You fidget under his stare. Shaking your head, you wrap your arms around his neck and burrow your face.

“Maybe next time,” you mumble. “For now, it’s just I love you.”

Seungcheol chuckles and engulfs your body in a tight hug. He pulls you into his lap and gently rocks you back and forth.

He kisses the side of your head tenderly and says, “I love you too, baby.”

You hum, snuggling closer into his warmth. You hope his words are true. You hope one day you can give yourself fully to him—to love him without worries. You just need time.

Hopefully, Seungcheol is patient.

A/N: I've got a few more fics of this couple lined up that I'm eager to share with you all! I don't want to post them all at once, but know they're on the horizon!!! 💗 hehe

Taglist: @musingsofananxiouspotato, @christinewithluv, @lockburn-castle, @iammisstora, @maknae00, @morklee02, @kittyhui, @aeerio, @cherrylovescheol, @ellllsia, @gyuguys

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[solarmorrigan]

Deck the Halls - Spooky Scary Remix

For the @steddie-spooktober day 7 prompt: Skeleton Rated: G | Words: 682 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, modern AU, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is a menace Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“Those are skeletons.”

“They sure are.”

With an air of satisfaction, Eddie deposits the two life-size, plastic skeletons onto the couch, where they preside over the boxes of decorations sitting on the living room floor like a bony king and queen (or two kings. Or two queens. Steve guesses he can’t say for sure, since they’re skeletons).

“Eddie, it’s December,” Steve says.

“You know, your observational skills are one of the things I really love about you,” Eddie shoots back.

“Fuck off,” Steve snaps, with no real heat. “We’re supposed to be decorating for Christmas.”

“And so we shall!” Eddie claps his hands together. “Where should we start?”

“Let’s start with why there are skeletons on the couch,” Steve says, and Eddie tsks, like Steve is the one being weird.

“We’re going to decorate with them, obviously.”

“Skeletons are for Halloween, not Christmas.”

Eddie eyes Steve with that shrewd tilt to his mouth that never bodes well for Steve’s chances in an argument. “Says who?”

“Uh, everyone?”

“Oh, everyone. Is that all?” Eddie waves his hand dismissively. “You know, skeletons don’t stop existing just because it’s not October. In fact, I’ve got news for you, baby.” He steps closer to Steve, bringing his hands up to Steve’s hips and giving them a squeeze before leaning in to whisper, “there’s a skeleton inside of you right now.”

Steve scrunches his nose up in distaste. “Don’t say it like that,” he implores, and Eddie snickers.

“Too late, thought’s in your head now.” He leans in and pecks a kiss to Steve’s cheek before stepping away. “Besides, I have a plan to deal with the Christmas skeleton nay-sayers such as yourself!”

He goes to dig through the plastic shopping bags he’d come home from the store with, where Steve had only sent him to get another box of lights and some extra hooks for the gutters, not these new spooky-scary interlopers, who are still sitting on the couch, eyeing Steve with their empty sockets.

“Where did you even get these things, anyway?” Steve asks as Eddie digs.

“They were on sale, can you believe it?” Eddie says. “No one wanted the poor, bony bastards, so I brought ‘em home. Aha!”

From the depths of the rustling plastic Eddie unearths his treasure: two fur-trimmed Santa hats.

With what seems to Steve like a disproportionate amount of delight, Eddie sets about placing the hats onto the two bare, plastic skulls, tugging them around carefully and setting the pompoms at jaunty angles before he steps aside and gestures with a theatrical sweep of his arms.

“What d’you think?”

Steve blinks at two festive skeletons on the couch. What does he think?

He thinks that they only moved into this house a few months ago, and he doesn’t want anyone in the neighborhood to think they’re weird.

Which– okay, they are weird. Obviously. Everyone is going to find out. But Steve had been hoping that the idea could sort of bake in; that they’d have time to settle and become a part of the community before everyone figures it out, so they’d have a better chance of not getting frozen out. He’d had a plan.

But then again– Eddie is standing there grinning at Steve, so hopeful and pleased with himself, practically begging Steve to tag along with him on his weird little endeavor, and honestly? Steve would rather live as a socially ostracized hermit until the end of his days than make Eddie unhappy.

“I think you’d better find a good place outside to put them, and they’d better stay there, because if I wake up one morning and find out you moved one of those things outside our bedroom window, or somewhere inside the house, I’m divorcing you,” Steve says.

If anything, Eddie’s smile only grows. “I wouldn’t dream of it, baby,” he says, his tone implying that he absolutely would.

All the same, Steve allows himself to be smothered with grateful kisses, and braces himself to deal with “mysteriously” moving Christmas skeletons for the rest of the season.

The things he does for love.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

I know you've written something similar with Bucky hearing the heartbeat of his unborn child buy what if the reader and Bucky weren't in an established relationship in fact the two don't really get a long at all but they hooked up once and Rayleigh got pregnant. After a mission they end up in a safe house and Bucky realizes that he's hearing the heartbeat of their unborn child

hii!! I did change some things, hope that’s okay (about the hearing heartbeats as don’t think he can do that) but I love the idea!! other fic is HERE. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

FIVE WEEKS SINCE.

bucky barnes x fem!reader — fluff/ angst?

word count. 957

Over a month ago, you and Bucky made the mistake of sharing a hotel room, and it consequentially led to the pair of you indulging in those romantic feelings you knew you always had for each other. At the time, it felt far from a misstep, but the awkwardness that followed made it all feel like a huge mistake. 

A following three weeks later —two weeks ago— you found out some life-altering information - discovering that you were pregnant. You knew that it was the work of you and Bucky during that night, but you couldn't bring yourself to share the news. Recently, he's acted like he wanted nothing to do with you, and you felt completely isolated as you wallowed in the feeling by yourself.

During those weeks of uncertainty, you confided in Natasha, essentially using her for support until you worked up enough courage to tell Bucky. She was far more helpful than she gave herself credit for, and slowly but surely, you started to get there in terms of bravery.

You were all currently spending the night at a safe house, sleeping over to resume your mission the next day. Everyone grouped off to share rooms.

It was late, all but you sure to be fast asleep. But you couldn't drift off, something undecided going on with your body - you couldn't figure out what it needed; was it food, water? Something to steady the nauseous feeling in your gut? You weren't sure, so you decided to head down to the kitchen, creeping out of the room quietly, trying not to wake Nat.

As you make your way downstairs, you see the silhouette of someone in the fridge, their back dark - the outline of them lit up by the yellow-white light. You wanted to turn around, not wanting to talk in your moody, tired state, but it was too late. The creak of the last few steps alerting them of your presence.

It was Bucky. And the look on his face was just as uncomfortable as yours.

"I'm just about to go," he murmurs, avoiding you, turning his attention to the open cupboard of glasses.

You roll your neck, working out the kink as you step into the kitchen - it wasn't small, but the space was far too tight for two people who couldn't bear to be in the same room. "No, it's fine. I was just getting a drink," you shrug, standing off to the side of him as you wait to collect a glass. 

Instead, he turns to you, handing you one. "Juice is on the counter," he nods, gesturing to the island behind.

"Thanks," you smile reasonably, uncapping the bottle and pouring yourself a glass. But when Bucky steps over, you hand him yours, taking his to fill for yourself. 

He takes a quick swig and thanks you, looking around the room awkwardly.

"Do you know where the cookies are?" you ask, trying to ease the tension.

He nods softly and reaches into another cupboard, pulling out a pack of cookies. He opens the packet and hands it to you, acting courteous.

"Thank you," you smile sweetly, offering him the first one. 

With a soft shake of his head, he declines.

"Can't sleep?" you ask. 

"No. You?"

"No."

And as he begins to step back, you decide to speak up - not wanting him to leave just yet. "Hey, uhm," you pause, fiddling with the cookie wrapper. "We haven't really spoken... how you been?" 

"Uh, doing good," he nods faintly, clearly holding back. "Have you— are you good?" 

You nod, also holding back. 

"Good," he nods, lips in a forced straight line. Feet turning away, itching to leave the room.

"James," you hesitated, clutching at straws - desperate to keep him around just a little longer.

His movement halts, and he twists back to face you. The simple call of his real name brings back memories of the two of you before all the awkwardness. 

"I'm..." you inhale sharply, thinking of the words. "I need to tell you something, and I—" you shake your head, stilling your wavering voice. 

He takes a small step closer, leaving a comfortable distance between you. "Tell me what?" he asks, the desperation clear in his eyes - his body language growing anxious.

"A couple weeks ago... I found out I'm pregnant," you whisper, momentarily closing your eyes - cowering away. "And I don't know what to do," you shake your head, avoiding his eyes. "It's a lot... and I didn't know how to tell you, but you should know."

The silence is deafening. Bucky's being far too quiet, and it makes you feel sick. You finally meet his gaze and watch the contrasting emotions play out on his face - he's clearly trying to process it all. 

"I know the timing isn't great, and things aren't good with us," you try to be mature, attempting to patch things over. "It was a shock for me too, but I just..." you sigh, waiting for him to say something. "I don't expect anything from you, it's okay. I get it."

He nods, seeming to have collected himself. "Let's talk everything over, okay? Talk it all through, clear the air," he offers with a half smile, closing the gap with another step forward. 

"Now?" you ask, thrown off by his sudden cooperation and interest. 

"Yeah, we'll sit on the back porch," he nods through the kitchen window, gesturing to the deck chairs. "You tell me everything, I'll tell you everything. We'll sort this out."

You're pleased with the progress you're making, and your forced smile turns into a real one - the first real one he's seen of yours in a while. "Yeah. I'd like that."

I spent way too long trying to understand the pregnancy time frame of conception and implantation😭😭

[buckets-and-trees]

hii i have a request this can be for Ransom or Andy

But imagine y/n and him are in an arranged marriage. y/n is doing everything she can for him to sign the divorce paper for examples smashing his cars, serving overly salty food, cutting his expensive clothes into pieces, disrespecting his workers, and spending his money on the most useful things (but if it ransom spending money at “low class” retail shops only bc I feel like he’ll hate that), etc.

instead of giving her a divorce, he just randomly starts acting like a romantic gentleman until the night ends he punishes her 🙊😈

I have to apologize for taking so long to answer this ask... and forgive me for not using all the inspo you dropped my way, but from the MOMENT I read this, I knew it was going to fuel something very specific for I'm Your Man Andy and his entrapped fiancé reader., and so I still needed to post it as an answer to this to give some credit where it's due. So even though it took months and months to get to here, this is the result.

Title: Don't Look Too Far Characters/Pairings: soft!dark mafia Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 6.4k Summary: After jetting away with Andy for a week, you're back. The reality that this is going to be your life starts to settle in in very unsettling ways. And although Andy's taken so many liberties with you already, he finally crosses a line you didn't know was on the board.

Content/Warnings: violent behavior; spanking as punishment; emotional manipulation; explicit smut: nipple play, cock stroking, vaginal fingering, oral (female receiving), vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex; use of pet name (sweetheart), implied dacryphilia

Author Note: This is not a stand alone section! You can find the previous parts here.

Author Note 2: I've been sitting on this for a long time, and I'm excited to finally have it here to share with you. Some of you genuinely seem to love this awful Andy, and you'll like this chapter. Some of you kinda like him against your will and I think you'll like this chapter (cough @stargazingfangirl18 cough). Some of you loathe this man, and you might like at least a few things in this chapter (looking at @biteofcherry).

You are glad to get home from your whirlwind trip with Andy.

Everything had been stunning, luxurious, and beyond your wildest dreams in one of the places you’d been longing to go almost your entire life. Even Andy had been nearly wonderful and certainly subjected you to endless spoiling and copious amounts of exquisite sex.

He makes all of this so difficult.

The private jet touches down in the early afternoon, and Andy allows you to avoid him until dinner. One of the things he’d made clear was an expectation from day one was having dinner together. After dinner, he insists on taking you for a ride in his Aston Martin DBS 770 Ultimate Volante – not his only sports car in the gargantuan garage of his mansion, and not even the only Aston Martin. Though he gave you no choice in whether or not to join him, he doesn’t force conversation, merely lets you enjoy the scenic drive, occasionally holding your hand. Once home, he takes you to bed and gets you to scream out through two orgasms for him before he lets you rest in peace.

The next morning, you awake alone. Andy only invokes a little small talk in the kitchen, lets you know he��ll be taking a few meetings, places a kiss on the top of your head while you eat breakfast at the counter, and then leaves.

It is more room than you have been used to in the mornings, and you don’t question it. You are happy to have the Saturday to yourself.

Three days after Andy so decisively put his engagement ring on your finger, he put a black card in your wallet. Today you will break it in.

You start at a hair salon you have never been able to afford but that had been on the “essential” list of prenuptial rituals for some of the wealthiest brides you’d planned nuptials for. Having the long-standing relationship with the establishment to arrange appointments for your clients meant they were willing to fit you in last minute for the late morning.

You hold yourself back from doing anything drastic. You don’t want to give Andy the satisfaction of driving you to go for a new style. You leave more than a generous tip.

You get lunch at a small sandwich shop – one of your favorites. You choose a table with a view out one of the large windows. It’s nice to be in a familiar place, even with the presence of Shep watching out for the non-existent security threats.

After lunch, you ask Mark to drive you to the plant nursery you love.

You get everything you want, leaving no plant behind if it strikes your fancy. You buy lovely pots for all of them and never look at price tags. When you tap your card for the enormous bill, it’s with a self-satisfied smirk on your face.

Next you go to the nail salon. They are busy, as it’s Saturday afternoon, just as you knew they would be, but they say they can take you in an hour or less, and since you have no demands on your time, you’re more than fine waiting.

As it’s late summer, it really is too warm for the plants to stay in your car, so you insist on sending Mark home with the plants – you know better than to try to convince Shep to go with him. The man has made it clear he will not shirk his duty as the point man for the security Andy has assigned to you. He’s ever present, and you don’t give him a hard time – he’s only doing his job. Shep doesn’t like your suggestion, however, and instead calls someone from the house to come pick up your plants so neither of the men have to leave.

Once your pedicure and manicure are complete, you check your phone while you’re escorted to the SUV. Your mom has sent you a text.

MOM: Call me when you get a chance! I want to hear all about your trip!

You frown as you slide into the backseat.

How did she know?

Since being trapped and installed into the life of the mob boss, you’ve avoided getting together with any of your friends or family, phone calls, and any deep text conversations. It’s self-isolation, nothing mandated from Andy. But what would you tell them about your new circumstance? Forced into an engagement with a charming, handsome man who just happens to be a mobster with control issues you were sure you could never escape from? Not a subject you want to get anywhere close to.

You only hesitate for another moment before you hit the call button and place the phone to your ear as Mark starts your drive home.

“Hello, dear!” your mom’s voice is clear and full of excitement.

“Hi, Mom,” you reply, smiling despite yourself.

Your heart aches for the weeks it’s been since you two last spoke. You missed her voice. You’re close with both of your parents. Your job had kept you incredibly busy over the past five years, but you usually spoke with them at least once a week and made it out to their house in the suburbs once or twice a month.

“I got your text,” you say simply, not sure how else to begin.

“Yes!” she exclaims, her voice full of enthusiasm. “I want to hear everything about your trip! But first, we have to talk about Andy!”

She can’t see it, but your jaw drops. “Andy?”

“He made us promise not to say anything until after lunch today – and I’m sorry, it’s why I haven’t texted or called all week, I wasn’t sure I couldn’t NOT bring him up, but he told us everything! How you met–”

“Well, you know I planned that signature gala for him,” you interject, somehow needing to jump in to clarify that point.

“Of course, yes, but how he was so impressed by you but waited until the event was over before saying anything, how he couldn’t help moving so fast with you. When he reached out earlier this week to set up the lunch with your father and I, he said he wanted us to meet him without you there so that we could thoroughly vet him and judge for ourselves without worrying you, make up our own minds even though he was obviously hoping we would approve since you’re engaged, but he didn’t reveal that detail until today.”

“Oh,” your mind is racing. “Andy always seems to have something up his sleeve.”

She laughs. “I can only imagine! And things certainly developed quickly!”

“Yes…” your voice is thick with hesitancy, and you know you can’t hide it from her.

“But your father and I want you to know that while you don’t need our approval, you have it. We’re surprised, but we approve. He’s so clearly smitten with you, and we know you would never jump into an engagement like this unless you were sure. We trust you.”

You don’t know what to say.

“I would have told you and Dad about the engagement,” you say. You don’t know when you would have. You were still so freshly coming to terms with its reality and ramifications…

Now telling your parents about Andy is yet another thing he has stolen from you.

“We know! We were young once, too! I can only imagine how much that man must have swept you away!” she soothes and exclaims, her voice bright and beaming through the phone.

It makes your chest ache because if this had evolved without Andy’s constant control, it might have been like this, and you would have gushed and been giddy with your mom right now in this moment.

“Why don’t we get lunch tomorrow just the two of us?” you suggest, wanting nothing more than to talk to your mom, but desperately needing to get off the phone so you can regroup, clear your thoughts, and figure out what in the world you are going to be able and willing to tell her.

“I would love that! Where do you want to go?”

You quickly sort out details that you promise to confirm over text, say your goodbyes, and then you end the call. You set the phone on the seat, drop your head back, and shut your eyes, fighting back angry tears. You wouldn’t let them fall down your cheeks.

“Your mom sounds like a lovely woman,” Shep interrupts your thoughts.

The laugh that tumbles out of your mouth is short and underscores how ridiculous all of this is. “She is. She’s not perfect, but she’s the best and has the biggest heart,” you respond with a genuine smile.

“She passed it on to you,” he says, meeting your eyes briefly in the rear-view mirror.

“You two should probably meet her tomorrow,” you offer up.

“We look forward to it,” Mark chimes in.

That’s the end of the exchange, but it dawns on you that while these two men have been assigned to your personal security and transportation, and they’re work for Andy, they have been nothing but professional, and you can see now that while they’re not warm and soft, there is a degree of care from them that has developed or that you’re only now recognizing exists that does seem to go beyond being a paycheck for them. Mark is probably close to your age, and you would guess Shep is eight or ten years older. Both men wear wedding bands on their left hands.

Having to have them assigned to you, you’re grateful it’s these two seemingly good men.

You’re sure there could be much worse.

You’re quiet the rest of the ride home, but your mind doesn’t stop racing.

“Would you like to get out at the front of the house or in the garage, ma’am?” Mark asks as you near the house. He always asks because the house is so large it makes a difference.

The corner of your mouth lifts as you decide, “The garage, please.”

The garage is a drive in basement level on the southeast corner of the house and holds two dozen cars, including the black Range Rover designated for you. You wonder if you’d ever be allowed to drive a car of your own again.

More aware now of the men, you notice there is a degree of ease that settles particularly over Shep now that you’re safe in the house again. You wonder if that’s always been the norm or if there’s a higher threat potential than usual. The shift does clue you into the reality that Andy is involved in more dangerous things than you thought. Instigator or target, you don’t know which he is, but regardless he’s swimming in dangerous waters, and you’re tied to his fate now.

This is your life.

Would you have chosen it?

Would you have?

A month ago, before the gala, you had genuinely been taken with him, even thought of him as you went to bed, alone, a hand on your breast and a toy between your legs and imagined what it would be like to have him there dealing out your pleasure instead. You hadn’t thought any serious interest being reciprocated from even the faintest possibility.

You had been so wrong.

And he’s dealt more pleasure than you had ever experienced.

More pain as well.

He was mindful of your physical limits, even if he rode them mercilessly.

He failed to comprehend the gravity of the rest of the pain he caused.

And today he reached a limit you hadn’t been expecting.

You slide out of the backseat when Shep opens your door, and instead of heading for the staircase in the corner, you move to the south wall of the garage and start opening cabinets. Shep tracks your movements but gives you space.

In the second set, you find Andy’s golf clubs.

Perfect.

You test a few of the drivers, and when you’re satisfied you’ve got the heaviest in your hands, you pull it clean out of the bag and make your way directly to the car you’ve noticed Andy favors most.

His silver Aston Martin DBS 770 Ultimate Volante.

The very car he drove you around in last night.

You hold nothing back in your swings, cracking the glass with your second hit. The third doesn’t do much more damage, so you move to the metal body, and here’s where you see you will get at least some of your satisfaction, easier to create dents in the metal than breaking the windshield. You do manage to smash one of the windows. Then you round on the next car.

Neither Mark nor Shep move to stop you, but you do see Shep is on the phone briefly.

You guess that you won’t be alone for long, so you move to a third car. Andy arrives as you lay into the fourth car. You look over at him with apprehension, unsure of what his next move will be. He meets your gaze, surveys the damage you’ve done so far, looks back at you, and then takes up position leaning against the Range Rover.

You grit your teeth, then raise the club over your head and bring it down with a battle cry over the hood of the silver Porsche 911 Turbo. A fifth car bears the fire of your rage, and mid-swing on the sixth is when a someone finally grabs the other end of the iron. You scream in fury and turn to face Andy, who’s looming over you, his blue eyes dark, stormy, and his mouth a thin line.

You yank against the club, but his grip is firm. You don’t let go though, still trying to wrest it from his hands, eyes locked on his, and he uses the rod to pull you closer to him, nearly chest to heaving chest (yours, not his).

“That’s enough, sweetheart.” His fingers work yours away from the metal rod, and he clasps one of your hands in his to keep you close while - eyes on you - he tosses the club to Shep, who catches it easily.

You huff and try to pull your hand away, but he interlocks your fingers and then starts to lead you away and up the stairs. Not wanting to allow him seeing any petulance from you, you comply and follow him in silence. Adrenaline starting to taper off, you feel exhaustion seeping into your limbs, and part of you wonders if Andy knew you were reaching the end of your strength and stopped you before you would have lost steam on your own. Your stomach seethes.

Once on the main floor, you fall in step with him, not needing the staff to see anything that will make them talk. Some of them may be oblivious to why you’re here, but you know there are those who are aware at different levels that you aren’t here as the other half of a fairytale.

Your destination turns out to be the family dining room, not the formal one.

Dinner, of course.

He pulls your chair out for you, tucking it politely as you sit, and then takes his place across from you.

Sometimes you and Andy talk over dinner.

Tonight is not one of those nights.

If he’s going to be silent about today, say nothing more about your vandalism on arriving home, then you certainly are not going to stoke conversation. His eyes are on you frequently, but you ignore him.

Halfway through dinner and after taking a sip of wine, Andy finally says, “Your hair looks nice.”

You scoff. “As if you really noticed. Your men told you where we were.” You know it’s hardly changed.

Andy set his fork down. “Look at me,” he demands, tone serious, and so you comply. “They’re your men, and don’t make the mistake of thinking I will ever fail to notice a detail, especially when it comes to my wife.”

Your heart skips a beat - part fear, but part some flare in your heart that you hate reacting to his words. You raise your chin in defiance. “I’m not your wife.”

“Yet.”

Threat and promise.

As if the exquisite engagement ring whose heavy weight you were growing so used to weren’t a constant reminder.

Rather than think further on that, for the rest of the meal you consider his correction that Shep and Mark are your men when you’d said they were his. It was an interesting distinction, and you would put feelers out to ask about it later - not Andy, but maybe with the men.

When dinner is over, Andy stands and reaches for your hand. He always does. It’s unsettling because if only you had ever had a choice, the gesture would be endearing. A few nights over this month that you’ve been his, he kissed the back of your hand and left to attend to business. Some nights, he wanted to watch something with you before bedtime, or go on a drive like last night. Most often he takes you to the bedroom.

It’s the latter tonight.

You walk silently to the master suite together. Every muscle in your body is taught with tension, with the simmering rage and hurt of the day seething through your veins.

Andy closes the door and turns to face you.

“Do you want to tell me why you’re so upset before or after your punishment?”

“My - what?!” You glower and put your hands on your hips. “Why am I being punished? You let me smash two more cars before you even stopped me.”

“It’s not about the cars, it’s your refusal to talk to me about something that clearly has you worked up.”

“Worked up?” Your eyes widen and then narrow. “I’m not worked up, Andy, I’m infuriated.”

“Then tell me what crime I’ve committed.”

You scoff and turn away.

He catches you before you’ve taken two steps, gripping your upper arm. He hauls you toward the bed, takes a seat on the end of the mattress, and then lays you down over his lap. He takes both your wrists in his left hand and holds them firmly while his right hand pulls your pants down.

All of it happens so swiftly that you can’t even fight him, but you cry out when the first, harsh slap hits your bare ass. The sting is sharp and shocking. The second comes quickly after. You try to shake out of his hold, but he growls your name, tightens his grip, and the third slap comes even harder.

Four. Five. He kneads the flesh of your ass between some of the smacks. Eight. Fifteen. Twenty. Somewhere in the middle, the smacks morph into a swirl of simultaneous pain and numbness – a mirror of how you feel. You’re sobbing once he finally stops, body sagging in defeat over his lap. He lifts you carefully and lays you stomach down on the bed. You fold your arms and hide your face into the frame of them to cry and settle into softer cries, and Andy lets you have the moment of privacy.

It’s not long before you register Andy’s return though, his weight sinking onto the bed next to you. Then his hand is on your tender backside, applying a cold cream to your skin, and the relief makes you let out a shuddering sigh. He works it over you slowly, gently, methodically. By the time Andy’s finished, so are your tears. You’re still full of emotions, but they’re a swirling, complicated mess. You feel like the frustration has been spanked out of you, but you’re still hurt and angry, but now you’re also confused by this tender act. This only extends when he urges you to roll over, and sit up, and he kisses your forehead. You look up at him dolefully, he wipes away the remaining tracks of your tears. He’s shed his clothes from the day and is now bare-chested and in a pair of navy silk pajama bottoms. He proceeds to gently help you take off your shirt, your bra, and then slips you into a silk robe he’s brought from the closet.

Then Andy stands, scoops you up into his arms, and heads to the balcony of your master suite. He settles down onto the loveseat and arranges you in his lap so you’re sitting sideways over him, and he wraps his arm around you. It’s more of the confusing closeness, physical intimacy that you crave but can’t give into with him. It’s the first time you’ve been out here, and it affords a beautiful view of the darkening sky. Yet another thing you would have yearned for but don’t want like this.

“Are you ready to talk?”

“I don’t even know where to begin,” you say honestly.

He puts his hand under your chin and tilts your head up to look at him. “I’ll listen to anything you have to say.”

“But will you hear me?” You ask and turn your head away and out of his hand.

He smoothes his thumb over your jaw but - to your surprise - doesn’t force you to look at him as he had before. Instead he lets his hand drop and brings it around your waist so he’s got both arms banded around you again.

“You’ve taken so much from me, Andy. You’ve made it abundantly clear that I have no way out of this, but it’s been mounting and it came to a peak today. I had a day to myself, but I couldn’t bring myself to spend it with my friends or my parents because I can’t tell them about us! I haven’t spoken or texted any of them on more than a surface level since this all began. And I haven’t gone back to work yet, but I want to work, I need to work, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell them either!”

He is quiet for a moment. And then, “I knew you hadn’t told anyone, but why do you think you can’t tell them about us?”

“What am I supposed to say?” You scoff. “I can’t tell them that you threatened me with blackmail and forced me into our engagement!”

“No,” he agrees, “You can’t tell them that.”

“So, what am I supposed to tell them?”

“That you fell for my charms, that I surprised you when I declared my intentions and by how serious I was, that I made it almost impossible for you to refuse me. It’s enough of the truth.”

You frown and scrutinize his face. “Enough of the truth,” you repeat, the words tasting bitter in your mouth. “Is that how you always live your life?”

 He lifts his chin, a flash of hardness in his eyes. “I’ve done what I needed to.”

“You didn’t need to go behind my back to meet my parents!” You blurt, the hurt in your voice bleeding out despite trying to keep it in, to keep it away from him, not wanting to share something so personal.

“I want to have a good relationship with my in-laws. My mother’s dead and my father was sentenced to life in prison when I was a kid.”

“But they’re my parents,” you stress. “I should have been able to be the ones to tell them about getting married. You stole that from me.”

Andy studies your face quietly.

You drop your gaze. You won’t tell him why stealing this moment – more than anything else he’s done – was your breaking point. You doubt he would care or understand, but he also doesn’t get to know something so personal. He hasn’t earned that right.

“You love them,” he finally says.

You nod. “We’re very close.”

He falls silent again.

Finally, you give an exhausted sigh. “Why did you have to do this to us?”

“I wanted you.”

“I wanted you, too. You should have let us fall into it.”

“Fall now.”

“I can’t,” you protest, and you look up to argue further, but he’s faster, cutting you off with a kiss.

His lips are demanding, and the heat he pours into the kiss seeps into the cracks he’s been chipping away inside you, and your traitorous body leans into the moment. You’re exhausted physically and emotionally.

You don’t know how you can ever let yourself fall for him.

But as his hands soothe up and down your back, you wonder if you have to deny yourself everything for the rest of your life?

What if you fell into him for one night? Allowed yourself to let go, to forget for just a few hours? You are so tired. And your body aches. And after so much hurt, betrayal, and anger running high through your veins for so many hours now, after the shock and release from being put over his knee, maybe you just want to forget and get lost in pleasure.

Pleasure you know he was far too capable of giving.

Not only capable of giving, but master of overwhelming you with it.

After he’s stolen so much from you these last weeks, maybe you want and need to steal a night of ecstasy without any thoughts.

You shift on his lap, his arms still around you, until you’re straddling his lap. You leverage his broad shoulders to push yourself up on your knees, and you look down at him. You can’t read everything in his dark blue stormy eyes yet, but you can interpret some of what’s there. He’s intrigued and you can see the spark of hunger flaring, but there’s something else you can’t quite read.

But that doesn’t matter right now.

He doesn’t pull you in closer, but his arms hold you steady in your kneeling stance. You reach for the tie of your silk robe, and you slowly pull it loose.

“Tonight is not for you,” your voice is low, quiet, but not soft, “it’s for me.”

His eyes narrow a fraction, but as you shrug the silky garment off your shoulders, he helps let the robe fall free to the ground.

Andy’s eyes rake over your naked form, drinking in every curve and dip of your body. His hands glide up your sides, rough palms contrasting with the softness of your flesh. You shiver despite the warmth of the evening air.

You place your hands on his chest, feeling the solid muscles there. Your fingers trace the lines down to his abdomen, following the trail of dark hair that disappears beneath his waistband. You can feel the evidence of his arousal, and he groans, gripping your hips tightly, and you squeeze his length - big as the rest of him - the cock that has ruined you.

He leans in and his lips burn a trail down your neck, over your chest and find one of your breasts, nipping on the swell before licking at your aereola and taking it into his mouth. Your fingers rake into his hair, and he sucks insistently until your nipple is almost painfully hard. He releases it with a pop, then moves to give equal treatment to your other breast. You press your needy cunt down against his groin, keening for him.

You grind against him, and he can’t help but groan. In one fluid motion, he stands, lifting you with him. Your legs wrap tightly around his waist instinctively as he carries you back into the bedroom. He lays you down on the bed with surprising gentleness. He takes less than a second to push his pajama bottoms down and off before he joins you on the bed, his body covering yours.

His weight presses you into the mattress. You feel every inch of his hard body against yours, and you arch up, desperate for more contact. Andy's hand slides between your bodies, finding your slick folds. He groans when he feels how wet you are for him.

"Always so ready for me," he murmurs against your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

You whimper as his fingers tease your entrance, circling but not entering. You buck your hips, trying to force him inside, but he pulls back with a dark chuckle.

"Patience, sweetheart," he admonishes.

But patience isn't what you want tonight. You want to lose yourself in sensation, to forget everything but the pleasure he can give you. You reach down and grasp his thick length, guiding him to your entrance.

He forces your hand away with a tsk, and you glare at him, but he is grinning, moving down your body already. He kisses the sensitive spot on your lower stomach, the one he discovered that always makes you gasp and arch your back for him. His shoulders force your legs open to accommodate his frame as he plants himself between your thighs.

Andy's mouth descends on your core, his tongue laving your sensitive folds. You arch into him, a moan escaping your lips. His beard scratches deliciously against your inner thighs as he works you over with his skilled tongue. He alternates between broad strokes and focused attention on your clit, building your pleasure steadily.

Your hands fist in his hair, holding him against you as you rock your hips. The coil of tension in your belly winds tighter and tighter. Just as you're about to topple over the edge, Andy pulls back, denying you release.

“Andy, please,” you beg.

Andy's breath ghosts over your sensitive flesh, making you shiver and whine. He places a soft kiss on your inner thigh, then another, slowly working his way back towards your center. You squirm, desperate for more contact, but his strong hands hold your hips firmly in place.

He chuckles, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure through you. "I thought this night was for you," he teases, his beard scraping deliciously against your thigh. "Let me take care of you."

Before you can protest, his tongue laves a long, slow stroke up your slit. You cry out, your back arching off the bed. He repeats the motion, this time circling your clit with the tip of his tongue.

Your hands fist in the sheets as Andy's talented mouth works you over. He alternates between long, languid strokes and quick flicks of his tongue, never letting you settle into a rhythm. Just when you think you can't take anymore, he slides two thick fingers inside you, curling them to hit that spot that he knows makes you see stars.

"Oh god, Andy!" you cry out, your hips bucking against his face.

He hums against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. His fingers pump in and out, matching the pace of his tongue on your clit. The dual sensations are overwhelming, and you feel yourself hurtling towards the edge.

"That's it, sweetheart," Andy murmurs against your flesh. "Let go for me."

His words are your undoing. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves, your body arching off the bed as pleasure overwhelms you. But he’s anything but finished.

Andy doesn't let up, his mouth and fingers working you through your orgasm and pushing you towards another peak. Your body trembles, oversensitive but craving more. You tug at his hair, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away.

"Too much," you gasp, but he ignores your weak protest.

He adds a third finger, stretching you deliciously as he continues to lap at your swollen clit. The intensity builds rapidly, and before you can catch your breath, you're tumbling over the edge again. This time, Andy pulls away, allowing you a moment to recover.

He kisses his way up your body, pausing to nip roughly at your collarbone. When he reaches your mouth, he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You moan into the kiss, your hands roaming over his broad back.

Andy positions himself between your thighs. You reach between your bodies and guide him to your entrance. You need him inside of you. He pushes in slowly, stretching you deliciously, filling you completely. You both groan as he slides in to the hilt, and you throw your head back. He stills there, kisses along your jaw, then gives a soft rock of his hips, rutting against you, but not thrusting.

“Move,” you plead, wrapping your legs around his waist to urge him on.

Andy leans down and claims your lips again, demanding the intimate kiss as his price, his tongue licking into your mouth to tangle with yours. He then sets a steady rhythm that has you moaning with each thrust. You buck your hips to draw him in with each stroke. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your mingled moans of pleasure.

You drag your nails down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. He hisses, then retaliates by biting down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder. The sharp pain mixed with pleasure makes you cry out.

"Harder," you demand, needing more, needing to lose yourself completely.

Andy growls, his grip on your hips tightening as he complies with your demand. He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in, the force of his thrust pushing you up the bed. You cry out in pleasure, your nails digging into his shoulders. He sets a punishing pace, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.

The headboard bangs against the wall with the force of his movements. Your walls clench around him, drawing a guttural groan from his throat.

"That's it, sweetheart," Andy grunts, his voice rough with exertion. "Take what you need from me."

You're climbing higher and higher, chasing that blissful peak. Andy snakes a hand between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit. He rubs tight circles over the sensitive bud, and it's too much.

You shatter, screaming his name as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your body convulses, clenching rhythmically around him. Andy fucks you through it, prolonging your orgasm until you're a trembling mess beneath him as he chases his own release.

It takes a few more strokes, and then he’s spilling his hot seed inside of you, groaning against your neck. He collapses his weight onto you for a few moments, catching his breath. Your hands roam over his back. If you had been given the chance to choose him, to choose this life, wrapped in his arms right now you would have felt blissfully content, and so since tonight was a pass on reality, you let a satisfied sigh fall from your lips.

Andy’s lips find yours again, and you kiss until you feel floaty and boneless beneath him, head empty of all thoughts.

When the fervency of the kisses finally slows into a languid calm, Andy finally rolls off of you. He reaches for the switch to turn off the soft lights that had been on, then settles on his side, facing you. He traces lazy patterns over your form with his fingers, and you close your eyes and simply feel.

You didn’t know you had fallen into sleep except that the motion of Andy pulling you into his chest so he can spoon up behind you pulls you back into consciousness. He chuckles softly at your little mewl, and then pulls you a little closer to his warm chest and plants a kiss on your neck, just below your ear. You settle against him without complaint.

You’re exhausted, and you don’t know where he finds the resilience, but his hand snakes down to cup your cunt again, and you hum as he begins to work your clit. You have no strength left in you, but if you don’t have to work for it and Andy’s going to give it to you, you’ve learned under his hand that he always knows how to coax out one more climax from you when you think you’re already spent.

Your breath speeds up again, and you can feel the promise of pleasure pulling at your muscles, tightening them for one final release.

As he works you quickly up to that point, he speaks directly into your ear. “You said tonight was for you, not for me. It’s the lie you needed to tell yourself to let go, and that’s fine, but know that your pleasure is always pleasure for me.”

And so unfairly, your body comes for him right then, exactly as he wants you to, and you cry out before going even more limp in his arms. He presses another kiss on your neck, and you can feel his satisfied smile against your skin. You desperately wish you could break out of his arms and roll away from him, but you do not have even an ounce of strength left, and so you simply let the exhaustion overtake you and escape from him in sleep.

You’re vaguely aware of how close Andy keeps you all night. Since he typically does, it’s a surprise when you wake to an empty bed. There is only a vague suggestion of sunlight beginning to come in the windows, so you know it’s still incredibly early. The sheet is down around your waist, and you splay your arm out to where Andy should have been. The bed isn’t cold, but there’s only a hint of warmth, so you know he’s been up for a while.

As if unnervingly on cue, Andy comes in from the ensuite bathroom and hums at seeing you awake. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

He strides right up to the edge of the bed, leans down, and plants a kiss on your cheek, then rubs his hand softly over your jaw.

“Morning,” you respond.

You hate how lovely this scene should be. Your heart wants it, but your brain reminds you not to accept this contrived intimacy he pretends is real and normal.

He crosses the room and retrieves his phone, starts to put on his watch, the finishing touches before he embarks on his day.

“You can sleep in,” he says softly.

“Why are you up so early? It’s Sunday.”

“Early tee time at the country club,” he answers.

You make a vague sound of acknowledgement and pull the sheet and duvet back up to burrow in for a lazy morning of more sleep and maybe some reading.

“Enjoy lunch with your mom, by the way,” he says at the door. “I’m teeing off with your father, so I’ll persuade him to have lunch with me to give you two time as just mother and daughter.”

You suck in a sharp breath and he departs, dropping this revelation, and leaving you to seethe at his making yet another bold move, seeping steadily further into the foundations of your life.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

SO

YEAH

Still with me here?

Even though I figured out the plot point for this chapter a while back, when I wrote it, I had to take a break a few times because I was upset over how some things were playing out.

I was also surprised by some of the development with her security detail of Mark and Shep. I randomly made them up really quickly during Prepare for Takeoff, but then here I learned they were going to end up being even more important than I thought (including something key for two specific future plot points).

[love-quinn]

— PARTIAL CREDIT

summary — when a new member of the waitstaff starts undermining you, you worry that your job might be in jeapordy. carmen knows you better than you think.

warnings — swearing, i think that's it

pairing — carmen berzatto x fem!waitress reader, semi (?) established relationship

pronouns — she/her

word count — 2.2k

note — i know i fully dropped off the face of the earth but unfortunately i was too busy channeling waitress reader a little too hard, i actually have to leave for work in a few hours but i really wanted to get something out. this 100% isn't inspired by true events or me projecting in any way, anyway i hope you enjoy!! <3

Being the only waitress at a successful restaurant is hard. During the dinner rush, between wiping tables, grabbing drinks and running food, you’ve slowly learned to be more adaptable to the Bear’s new clientele base. That’s not without its struggles, of course. 

Fortunately, Carmy and Natalie seem to understand that it’s a major handful to simply do your job. Which is why Richie thought it appropriate to call you in two hours early to meet the new waiter.   

Liam’s nice from what you’ve gathered. He’s been working with you at the Bear for about two months at this point, most of that has involved you and Richie training him, and he’s been very receptive to your instruction. 

Sure, sometimes he mutters under his breath when a customer asks him for something, but hey, they’re annoying sometimes. And sure, sometimes you find him in the walk-in on his phone, but you’d be lying if you said you were never on your phone at work. He’s had no complaints, and the work is always done to a standard that’s expected (he is still in training, you’re not delusional). 

You’ve worked at the Bear since they were still the Beef, right after Carmen took over. He realised Richie couldn’t keep up with the stuff at the front by himself, so he’d gone with the cheapest option available and thanked god every day that you weren’t awful at your job. You had just graduated from UofC and if you didn’t get a job when you had, you would have been pretty much out of options. You had no work experience outside of being a TA in college (which apparently didn’t have a lot of transferable skills, according to most of your potential bosses). You hadn’t been able to score an insane internship, you didn’t make super stellar grades, you’d been too busy being desperately poor and struggling to keep up.

You’d been really lucky that Carmen had taken a chance on you when he had, and you had been desperate to show him you were aware of that. Liam didn’t seem to have the same sentiment.

He was the same age as you, and he’d actually gone to UofC as well. He’d gotten a pre-med degree but wanted to take some time off before he went for his MD at Rosalind Franklin. 

He picked up on the work fairly easily, remembered when you showed him where the cleaning supplies were, showed him how to work the buttons on the till to ring in orders, and introduced him to all the staff. They were nice to him, nice enough. It took them a while to warm up to him, just like it took them a second to warm up to Carmen, to Sydney, to you. 

But now, several months in, they all got along enough that work was going well. You didn’t have to work six days a week if you didn’t want to now that Liam was there to lighten the load (you did, you made sure Natalie knew that). Now, you could actually take your lunch break without worrying they were being completely overrun. 

On the whole, things seemed to really improve. 

Until, of course, they didn’t. 

You started hearing whispers, soft remarks of “Oh, I did that for her,” to Richie about greeting table seventeen. Small “I wonder why that wasn’t done, I’ll just do it quickly.” 

“Not to be that person, but I noticed that a lot of the straws haven’t been stocked up. I feel like I have to do it every time. I just wonder what she’s doing when she’s back here…”

You do your best to not let it get to you. He’s never worked in the service industry before, he’s probably just doing his best to make sure that his efforts are being noticed. You were almost lucky, in that way, that you were the only real waitress they’d hired. 

It’s an unusually warm day as you slide in through the back entrance to work. You’re your usual twenty minutes early, lucky that there’s enough work to do that Carmen often encourages punctuality (and thus, fairly compensates for it). 

Liam is scheduled today, but he’s leaving after the lunch shift. You get your break while the kitchen does prep-work for dinner, and then you’re coming back for dinner as well. 

Marcus is in his corner, kneading bread dough with a concentrated look on his face. You brush past him with an airy hello that he returns with a half-hearted wave, not looking up from his task. 

Tina is on vegetables, and she stops you for a moment to ask about a shipment arriving. You assure her that you’ll check when you get to the other side of the kitchen, making your way to the front.

The chairs are already all down, table cloths clean and freshly washed. Sydney went down to the laundromat to get them all clean that morning; she’d texted you and asked if you wanted to come but you told her that you really, really didn’t. 

Your first job is a pre-opening sweep, then a restock, then a menu review. You have 87 minutes until service, and Liam should be here in the next fifteen minutes or so. You have just enough time to go and bug Richie into showing you more pictures of Eva’s last birthday party. 

You stick your head into the office just in time to catch the tail end of a sentence that you definitely weren’t meant to hear; “...doesn’t even stack the chairs? What is she doing here?”

Your work anxieties - the idea that every time something goes wrong it was your fault, that one missed drink or late appetiser would have you fired, that every time a customer berated you it was actually your fault - had definitely eased some in the six months you’d been working there. You’d stopped thinking that every time someone was complaining it was about you, but that meant that when they really were talking about you, you knew. 

Liam’s standing there, leaning up against a pile of papers that Carmen is staring roughly at. He looks tired - when doesn’t he? - and like he doesn’t really want to hear whatever it was that Liam was saying. 

“A lot more than you do,” Carmen grumbles. He runs a hand over his face from the bottom up, coming to a rest when it’s gripping onto his curls. 

“I’m always covering her sections,” Liam groans. “The amount of time that Rich’s given me her table’s drinks, it’s insane. We should start pooling our tips.”

Carmen wants to say a lot back to that. That his name is Richie, and calling him Rich doesn’t make him any more like the finance frat bros that Liam is so desperate to associate with. That tip pooling would be insanely unfair to you considering Carmy’s pretty sure Liam’s made less than what you make in a day. That he stacks the chairs because he likes to, and you know that. 

Instead, he settles on “you’re always covering her sections because she’s always covering up for you when you screw up.”

Liam looks like he’s unsure whether or not to go ghostly pale or beet red at the statement. “Wh- has my performance not been up to scratch, sir?”

Carmen stands. “I didn’t really notice it, at first, cause everything was going so well. She’d never tell on you, she knows what it’s like to struggle at a job.” He looks disdainfully down at Liam’s too-new dress shoes. Professional but impractical as a waiter. From what Carmen’s noticed, this is the second pair he’s ruined. “She’d never tell me that your silverware is never rolled, so she’s been staying late and rolling every single one of them. She’d never tell me that your tables are never cleared away. She’d never tell me that you had six meals comped in your first month because you couldn’t be fucked writing shit down.

So yeah, maybe you get her tables a refill when she’s too busy telling one of us one of your guests was coeliac because you forgot to, but that does not give you the right to look down your entitled fucking nose at her.” Carmen gets close, not close enough to the point where it could be uncomfortable, but much closer than he’d ever get to Liam if he could help it. 

“You don’t like picking up her slack? That’s fine, that’s fucking fine, because to be honest, it seems like you’re creating more work for her anyway. You’re done.”

He looks pointedly towards the door to the small office. 

Liam knows exactly what Carmy’s telling him. “Sir, I-”

Carmen raises a finger and points. “You’re fucking done.”

Liam scampers away so quickly he doesn’t even see you eavesdropping. 

Carmy knows, though. He seems to have a sixth sense for when you walk into a room. If you’re not planning on coming in to confront him about firing Liam then he has no intention of bringing it up with you. He sits down, putting his forehead on his fist. “Sir.”

You’re standing right in the door, it’s practically impossible for Carmen not to notice you. But he pretends, allowing you the chance to slip away and act like you hadn’t just witnessed him firing Liam for being slightly mean to you. 

He opens his eyes to see you standing there still. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” your voice is soft. The collar of your shirt is tucked underneath on one side, and Carmen has to resist the urge to reach up and smooth it out. He’s not quite sure why and he doesn’t feel like unpacking it. “He’s still learning, I don’t mind helping him out.”

Carmen doesn’t mince his words. “He’s a dick, don’t defend him.”

He swivels away from his desk and gestures for you to sit. After a second of hesitation, you perch yourself on top of the small surface. You’re not sure who moves first, Carmen to reach up and take your hands or you to reach down to let him. Neither of you have ever spoken about it, like a lot of things. How he always makes sure you get extra food and you make sure Carmen isn’t bothered while he sets up the dining room. 

You hadn’t realised how much Liam had been heightening your anxiety while he was there. “He’s not allowed to do that to you.” Carmy sounds genuinely pissed. “You do fucking everything out there, he’s not allowed to come in and treat you like some sanctimonious fuck. You… you should’ve come to talk to me about it.” He gives in. “You could’ve.”

“I didn’t want to be a problem.” You admit quietly. “You have enough without me.”

Plenty goes unsaid between you and Carmen. You don’t talk when he drives you home in the dark, in the snow. But he’d be naive to believe that the same rules applied to everyone else. The kitchen staff talks, none more than Richie. Carmy is surprised he hadn’t decked that pre-med asshole already. 

“You’re not a problem, honey,” he says gruffly. You stay silent for a moment before realising that’s probably all you’re going to get out of him. 

“I need to go prep dining for service,” you say after a moment, not wanting to speak too loudly. 

Camry’s grip on your hand tightens and for a brief second he feels panic set in. You clearly are feeling okay, so it’s not that he needs to check on you. You’re well ahead of schedule. There’s no reason for Carmen to keep his hand enclosed around yours. And yet he does. And yet you let him.

“Liam was just in here bragging about how dining room prep was already done,” he says after a short while. “You’re well ahead of time.”

“He is,” you point out airily. “I’d never want to take credit for his work.”

Carmen squeezes your hands once, eyes crinkling at the sides. You both know you need to go over everything Liam did in an attempt to make himself look better, not one hundred percent trusting him to have done it properly. There’s 56 minutes until service before Carmen finally lets you go (and only because he has prep he needs to get done).

Plenty goes unsaid between you and Carmen. You don’t say anything when he cracks his office door open for you when you need a breather. You don’t say anything when his station’s been cleaned for him miraculously while you’re waiting for him to finish paperwork.

Luckily for you, the rest of your coworkers seem to understand this time. Nobody mentions Liam or his absence. No one mentions the stars drawn on the band-aid on Carmen’s wrist. And, most surprisingly pleasant, no one mentions how Carmen has started calling you honey more than perhaps your real name.

It makes it even nicer when everyone heads out, leaving you and Carmen alone in the restaurant for the night. They seem to have miraculously developed tact over the last 24 hours, but you’re pretty sure nothing could have stopped Richie from telling everyone about the way that Carmen holds your hand the entire way to your apartment. 

[littleredgun]

Worship - Part One

18+ - better not see any of you minors knocking around here.

Warnings for all chapters: Established relationship, female reader, pet names, swearing, guns, violence, restraints, chloroform, knives, death, blood, angst, fluff, SMUT, soft Jason, p in v sex, unprotected sex, size difference, size kink.

I do not own any of the characters in this fic and GIF is not mine, credit to the owner!

My work is not to be translated, copied / posted anywhere else!

Part Two

Jason worshipped the ground you walked on.

His soft, loving side was only reserved for you.

You were a delicate flower and he was an icy river.

May God have mercy on the sorry asshole who hurts you.

Nightfall settled over Gotham, illuminating the skyline Jason loved so much. The rain pelted down on this helmet and the wind blew through his jacket, making him shiver ever so slightly. He couldn’t wait to get home. Home to you.

Jason had met you, ironically enough, on patrol.

You were stupid enough to walk down alleys alone at night and he stopped you getting attacked by smashing the butt of his gun against the creeps temple, he was dead before you could open your eyes. And man, oh man were you a sight he could get used to, even with a bust lip and your blouse torn. When you opened your eyes you breathed “Red Hood”. He gave you a ride home without saying a word and walked you into your apartment. It was cosy. Something he’d expect from a girl who looked like you.

“Thank you”, you whispered, standing awkwardly in your kitchen. Again, without saying a word, he removed his helmet with a shaky breath and gently lifted his hands to your jaw. His stomach flipped at the sheer size difference between the two of you, one hand was the size of your whole face. “Got a first aid kit?”. Those were the only worlds he could force out. You nodded sheepishly before pointing to the bathroom. He moved swiftly and found it under your sink, rummaged through it and was back in the kitchen. In that time you had managed to change into an oversized t-shirt and some shorts and were sat waiting prettily for him to return.

You were going to kill him, he was sure of it. You somehow looked even smaller. “This is gonna hurt, I’m sorry”, he muttered. He took some disinfectant and a cotton ball and gently placed it to the cut on your lip. You inhaled a sharp breath through your teeth before replacing his hand with yours on the cotton ball. He stood and watched you dab the cut, shifting nervously. “So, you just gonna stand there or are you gonna tell me your name?”.

Jason was take back by the sudden comment, he attempted to keep his cool. “You know my name”. You chuckled and placed the cotton pad in the trash. “No. I know your vigilante name. I don’t know your real name”. Without thinking you grabbed two cups and began preparing two cups of coffee. “I can’t tell you that, sweetheart”.

“Oh yeah? Then why’d you remove your helmet? I know what you look like now”. Ah shit. He hadn’t of thought about that. With a heavy sigh he answered, “Jason”. You hummed quietly before speaking. “I prefer Jay. Jason makes you sound like an old man”. He laughed. Really laughed, for the first time in months. “Alright. Jay it is”. Your eyes scanned over him, his eyes crinkled when he laughed. You watched him lean against your kitchen counter and only then did you realise how big this man was. He came through your door sideways. You told him your name. “But people call me Little”. Jason furrowed his brows. “Because I’m small”. His lips made a silent oh..and the rest was history.

That was a year ago. Almost every night since then he’d appear at your apartment door. Countless nights were spent sat on the couch talking, playing games. He told you about his encounter with the Joker. How he died and came back, he showed you his scars. You cried like a baby that night, your fingertips tracing the pattern of each mark on his body. You told him about your father dying when you were young and your mother choosing her boyfriends over you.

Anger consumed him, but he pushed it aside. That was the night he kissed you. Made love to you, told you how madly in love he was with you. He loved each and every part of your body, lips and tongue dancing across your skin, heated whispers and purple marks littered your body. He’d stayed in your apartment ever since, and by God did you worship that man.

[the-marshals-wife]

Refuge (Sierra Six x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: It's official: I'm obsessed with The Gray Man. I've watched it 3 times so far in under 2 months, and I really wanted to write something sweet for my current favorite Goose character.

Description: Sierra Six/Courtland Gentry x Fem!Reader, established (secret) relationship; flirty, steamy fluff + angst if you squint | Warnings: suggestive themes, kissing, alcohol | Setting: post-movie | Word count: 1,746

Gif credit: user magnusedom

Imagine Six returning to you, his best kept secret, and asking you to come away with him

There was only one thing in the world that could make you open the front door of your apartment after midnight. The instant you recognize the familiar, distinct sequence of knocking, you shoot upright from your slumber and scramble off of the sofa, the book on your chest flying across the floor from where you had dozed off. Having almost tripped on the rug, you release the dead bolt and frantically fumble with the chain lock. Heart pounding, you slide it loose and jerk open the door.

Waiting on the other side like an apparition was a smiling face you weren't sure you'd ever lay eyes on again.

"Sorry for the late hour, ma'am. Could I trouble you for a cup of sugar?"

"Court!"

You couldn't help it. His name, the name only you could use, escapes your lips like a cry.

"May I come in?" he gestures.

You grab his arm and usher him inside.

"Where have you been?" you asked in a hushed voice, looking over him.

"Here, there, everywhere," he answers, leaning back against the closed door. "Spent a little time in nowhere too."

"I've been so worried about you! I haven't heard from you in months. I know that's the job, but it's been so long without a sign or anything. I was afraid something happened to you. I didn't know what to think," you say all at once.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'll explain everything, I promise. Just, let me look at you first," he says, gazing on you softly, "Wow. How is that possible?"

"What?"

"How are you more beautiful than the last time I saw you?"

You feel your cheeks turn red, but it doesn't keep you from pointing a finger to his chest.

"If you think being a smoothie is going to get you out an explanation, think again, buster."

He wraps his arms around your waist.

"Fair enough," he nods, "It's still true though. You're even prettier when you're angry."

"I must be stunning then," you smirk.

He brings his hand up to lift your chin, leaning in close, "Incredibly."

The waning space between you vanishes as he captures your lips. You lean into his touch, savoring every sensation you'd missed so much. From the warm, smokiness of his scent to the gentle scratch of his beard on your skin. When he finally pulls away, you're nearly breathless.

"Why don't you make yourself at home, stranger?" you propose, composing yourself, "You want a drink?"

"I wouldn't say no to a beer," he replies.

"Coming right up," you say, turning towards the kitchen, "They feed you in 'nowhere'? I got half of a leftover sub here, and some really leftover pizza I can nuke in the microwave."

"Tempting, but I'm good for now, thanks. Just the beer," you hear him say as you grab two bottles from the fridge.

"Good call, honestly. We can just order take out or something."

He doesn't respond, and it immediately catches your attention. You grab the bottle opener from the drawer and make quick work of the caps. With a faraway look in his eye, he stands on the other side of the modest island that separates the kitchen area from the living area. You extend the bottle towards him, and even when he takes it from your grasp, he's barely shaken from his silent reverie.

Too worried to imbibe, you set your own drink down on the counter. "Court, what's wrong? I can tell something is bothering you."

He takes a drink, which is followed by a long pause.

"Do you remember Fitzroy's niece, Claire?"

You nod. "Of course. Is she alright?"

"She is now," he sighs, setting his jaw, "Fitzroy is gone."

"What?" you say, rounding the island to be at his side.

"It's a long story, but some bad people got ahold of Claire to get to him, because of something that I did. We took care of it in the end, but...he didn't make it."

He takes another hefty drink and puts down the bottle.

"Court, I'm so sorry," you say, touching his arm, "I know how much he meant to you."

He turns to face you. "He did. Now Claire has no one, except me. And that's what I came here to talk to you about."

Your pulse quickens at the seriousness in his voice.

"Her and I have been on the run the past couple weeks. Staying ahead of Carmichael and his goon squad."

"Wait, you escaped the agency?" you ask, shocked.

"Didn't have a choice after they tried to use her as leverage to get me to keep doing their dirty work. I got her out, which means I'm out too, for good," he confirms solemnly, "I've found a place for us where we might actually have a shot at a normal-ish life."

You stare at him wide-eyed.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying...I'm all she has left. She needs me. And I need you," he says, gently rubbing your upper arms, "Before, I couldn't give you the life you deserved. But this could be my second chance. I think I might have finally gotten to the top of the hill, and I want you there with me."

"Oh Court, I don't know..." you hesitate, mind reeling, "I don't know anything about raising a kid."

He grins. "Neither do I. We can figure it out together. I mean there's gotta be a manual or something, right?"

You can't help but snort at the idea. Just as more protests are forming on your tongue, he gives you a look so disarming that you forget the words entirely.

"Come away with me, Y/N."

He takes your hand in his.

"It won't be easy, and it definitely won't be perfect. I know I've got no right to ask you to leave everything behind. But I've loved you from the very beginning, and I will protect you with everything I have."

His vow brings tears to your eyes. He laid his heart bare, and in doing so, he'd banished the last of your meager doubts.

"Well, when you put it that way," you say.

You grab the collar of his jacket in your fists and pull him into a kiss. He hums in pleasant surprise and laces his fingers through your hair. After another heated moment of rediscovery, you at last loosen your grip and surface from the embrace.

"Is that a yes?" he chuckles.

"It is," you answer, your smile becoming nervous as your thoughts turn to the future, "Do you think Claire will like me?"

"Oh, don't worry, she's going to love you," he smirks, letting you go and walking over to the window. "Honestly, I'm not sure I'm going to survive you two. This was probably a bad idea."

"Now I really I can't wait to meet her," you tease.

Your amusement fades, however, as you watch him part the curtain and cautiously peer up at the surrounding rooftops.

Dread stirs in the pit of your stomach.

"How much time do we have?" you ask.

"We should probably get you packed up," he says over his shoulder.

"Really? I thought we'd at least have tonight. Are you being followed right now?"

"Not yet. No one knows about this place. But the longer I'm here, the greater the possibility that changes," he frowns, "I need to get back to Claire. I took a risk coming here. She can't be alone for long."

You mind begins to race as your gaze darts around your apartment and belongings. The framed pictures scattered across the walls of old friends and family you hardly see suddenly meant more than anything tucked away in the safe beneath your bed. But could you even take them? Would having any ties to your old life be too dangerous?

Old life. The thought makes your head spin.

"This is happening so fast," you say as you rub your temples, "I never thought I'd just leave everything. I don't even know what to take with me."

"Hey," he says, stepping back over to you, "It's alright. Listen, I know I got caught up in pouring out my dumb old heart a minute ago, but you don't have to do this, Y/N. If you want to stay, I understand."

"No, I'm coming with you," you deny, "I want to be with you, no matter where we have to go. I've never wanted anything more. You have made it to the top, Court, and I wouldn't miss the view for anything."

All this time, you had been the only refuge in the world for "Sierra Six". Now, more than ever, he was becoming yours.

He kisses your forehead softly and smiles down on you.

"How about we just start small, and go from there. Baby steps. Like, maybe a suitcase?" he suggests.

"Sounds good," you agree, "Guess I don't need to pack the kitchen sink for wherever we're going?"

He snickers, "No, we have one of those. Got one in the bathroom too. We even have a toilet."

"I wasn't expecting such luxury," you smirk.

"I mean you have to hold the handle down a little to get it to flush, but other than that," he quips.

"Well, I suppose I'll survive," you say in mock exasperation.

"We do have a TV, so that kinda makes up for it. Plus, I got queen bed all to myself. I might could be persuaded into sharing, though."

You cross your arms, eyeing his suggestive look.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, but you'll have to sleep on top of the covers. I don't wanna get your girl germs on my sheets."

"Courtland Gentry," you grunt, smacking his arm.

You take off down the hall to your room, and he follows after you laughing.

"What? What'd I say?" he asks, knowing full well.

"Why don't I just sleep on the floor?" you pose.

You bolt over to your dresser and start rummaging through your clothes, keeping your back to him.

"Okay, you're right. That was unfair of me," he concedes.

Biting your lip, you spin around with your eyebrows raised.

He stands in the doorway, pulling a stick of gum from his pocket and unwrapping it, "You can get under the comforter."

You throw a shirt at him, shaking your head.

"Shut up and help me pack."

He pops the gum in his mouth and smiles.

"Yes ma'am."

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Protection Spell [Spencer x Reader]

Photo credits: Center Left (@thinkpink212) Center (@reidcoffeemoon) Rigth (@flowersforfrancis)

Prompt: The reader reflects on when she and Spencer found out they were pregnant with their first baby, a little girl, and the reader asks Spencer what he whispers to their child every morning when he gets up. 

Pairing: [established relationship] Spencer x BAU!reader, pregnant!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns. 

Category: fluff/comfort 

Word Count: 2.7K 

Content Warnings: Pregnancy [reader], morning sickness, prayer {no deity named], lots of fluff. Let me know if I missed any. 

A/N: Hi loves! This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins wonderful March and April Prompts. The Prompt I used was “The couple enjoys trying for a baby.” These are tropes/plots that I have never written for before so I hope you like it. I did some research on pregnancy but not a ton, so forgive me if some things are off. I love being challenged as a writer to try new things. I hope you like this little fluffy fic and that you are having a great start to your week!. This was really fun to write. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you’re having a great start to your week and thanks for reading. Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

_y/f/f_ = your favorite food 

At first, it was the best thing to happen in the world. And it was still the best thing in the world. The little baby girl growing in y/n’s belly over the months had not only brought her and Spencer unbridled joy but also brought the team together in a stronger way. The way everyone had come together to help y/n and Spencer ensured her that their baby would be the most looked after and safest baby in the whole world. How couldn’t she be if with the BAU and half the Quantico office knowing about her already? As y/n lay in bed next to Spencer who was still asleep, belly round in the largest size paternity pajamas that the store had, she reflected on when they’d first found out they were going to be parents. 

y/n and Spencer had been trying for some time now. They had been to the doctor multiple times about it, both getting checks on their sexual health. Both y/n and Spencer got an all-clear from the doctor, however, y/n’s OBGYN had told y/n that her stress level and anxiety might be factors that might be affecting their chances. But despite these issues, Spencer and y/n had continued trying. They always made love at the peak window for y/n in her cycle, as well as much much more than that. y/n loved Spencer so much as he did this. It never felt like a chore to either of them. It was a joy to even be trying. They’d had a difficult conversation and both agreed that they wanted a child and wanted to give it the best life possible. So that fateful morning when y/n walked out of the bathroom feeling sick and just trying a pregnancy test that they now seemed to stockpile, and she saw the two pink lines, y/n screamed with joy. Of course, Spencer hadn’t taken it that way. He rarely heard y/n scream, so he rushed into the bathroom expecting something bad, but instead, y/n was standing in the center of the bathroom holding something in her hand like it was the most precious thing she’d ever seen. He was confused. The tall agent walked over to y/n and asked, “y/n, what’s happening?” With a kind of happy dazed look, y/n opened her palm so Spencer could look over her shoulder and see the positive pregnancy test. As soon as Reid’s brain registered what was happening, he froze. Suddenly his brain which could work ten thousand miles an hour came to a standstill. In a half whisper, Spencer asked, “For real?” y/n felt the tears building in her eyes as she nodded her head yes. 

As soon as the non-verbal gesture was done, Spencer rushed forward and covered y/n in an embrace. He hugged her tightly and picked her up off of her feet as he placed his head in the crook of y/n’s neck. He just took in the wonderful woman in his arms, not even having the right words to tell her apart from that he loved her over and over again. The couple waited a few weeks to tell the team. They didn’t want to give anyone false hope. Not even themselves, though immediately they started talking about names and baby rooms and the crib They couldn’t help themselves. They started making a list of names but decided to wait till their baby was born to name them. When Reid and y/n were more sure, with the advice of the doctor that things looked good, they broke the news to the team. The members of the BAU responded with jubilation. Everyone had asked y/n how she was feeling and if she needed anything like she might break if she as much stepped down the stairs. y/n reassured them all that she was fine to work, just a bit more nauseous than normal. After everyone had calmed down and y/n and Spencer had reassured them all that they would keep them updated, things went as back to normal as possible when a member of the team announced they were pregnant. 

Later that day, Aaron pulled y/n aside in his office for a little talk. For whatever reason y/n was a little nervous, but she did not need to be. Hotch asked her to sit, and she did. Aaron moved behind her to his desk and sat down as well. He had a small smile on his face and he started by saying, “Congratulations, y/n. I’m so happy for you and Spencer.” y/n blushed and replied, “Thanks Hotch. It means a lot to us.” Aaron nodded and then continued, “I want you to know that I’m not going to baby you. I’m going to let you do your job here, but I need you to tell me if you need a break. For anything. If you’re sick or just need a minute, I fully understand. You just need to let me or Rossi or anyone on the team know.” y/n nodded appreciatively that he wasn’t treating her like glass, but that he also understood that she was going to need time and space sometimes too. y/n had rarely seen Aaron like this, to take this tone. She assumed it was from his experience with Haley and Jack. He’d pretty much seen it all with that pregnancy. Of course, y/n was aware that all pregnancies were different, but it was nice to know someone who had seen this before with a job like theirs. Of course, Aaron didn’t give birth to Jack, but he was as attached to Haley as he could be when she was pregnant with Hotch’s son. Aaron broke the peaceful silence and concluded, “Obviously, when things progress I want you to be as safe as possible. We all will, so when that time comes, you, Spencer, and I can have a conversation, okay?” y/n nodded and Aaron couldn’t help himself from asking, “So, how are you feeling? Everything okay?” At the honest question, y/n’s face broke out into a huge smile and she said, “I’m happy Hotch. We’ve wanted this for so long, and it’s finally happening. Sometimes I don’t even know what to think.” Hotch nodded and said, “Well take your time, there will be plenty of that before it’s all over.” 

Aaron had been right. There was a shocking amount of time, and yet it seemed to fly by at the same time. All the things had happened mostly normal. Spencer and y/n had found out the sex of their baby girl at twenty weeks, then there were the more constant checkups and ultrasounds. y/n had raised blood pressure and bad morning sickness. Later The BAU ladies and some of y/n’s friends had held her a baby shower early just in case a case popped up. Then there were the more obvious signs of pregnancy like her belly swelling and the first kicks of the baby that nearly had y/n in tears. As great as being a new mother seemed, and as excited as y/n was, it was still hard. As her baby and body accommodated to the changes happening, y/n found it harder to move and her emotions started to play up more than normal. Like the first few days before a period but all the damn time. 

Hotch had slowly been phasing y/n off the active team and keeping y/n more and more in the precincts and sites that didn’t have any imminent danger on cases. By the third trimester, Spencer had encouraged her to take a full-time roll back in Quantico until their baby girl came. Aaron had agreed with Reid and said he’d approve the paperwork for the temporary shift in roles. After a few conversations with Spencer, y/n agreed. The stress on the field, even if she wasn’t on on a case, could still be bad for her or the baby, and she didn’t want to risk it. This was fine for a bit until y/n got bored silly with the work and wanted back on the field. The only thing that saved her was Garcia sharing her lunch breaks and telling her all kinds of amazing stories that y/n was certain were made up. 

By the middle of the third trimester y/n was ready to step back as things were hurting her more, and she had the instinctual desire to nest and to make their home ready for the delivery of her and Spencer’s baby. y/n asked for the last month off and Aaron granted the time. It was on the first day of y/n’s rest and preparation period that the crib came in. It had been a conversation y/n and Spencer had had time and time again about what model looked most comfortable and safe. Which was the best for the money they had. So when a delivery man came to the front door with a large, heavy package, both y/n and Reid were baffled. Spencer signed for the delivery and the man moved the package inside the living room. y/n and Reid moved toward the package and Spencer grabbed a pair of scissors and carefully opened the top of the package. Nestled inside with a lot of newspaper and other protective material was a dark crib that clearly been handmade. It shone with a dark stain and at the top was a letter in a cream colored envelope. Reid pulled out the letter and opened it up. He already had an idea about who it was from, but the carefully crafted note that brought small tears to his eyes told y/n what she needed to know. After Spencer had taken a few minutes to read and reread the letter, he handed it over to y/n. She took it with trembling hands and read the contents: 

Spencer, y/n, 

I might have heard through the grapevine, or a very communicative and persistent technical analyst, that you were expecting someone special soon. I’m sorry I can’t be there to support you more practically right now, but the road calls, and I must follow. I hope you find this gift useful. I miss you both and I wish you all the luck in the world. I know you will both be the best parents. Please let me know when my Godparent duties begin. All my love, 

Gideon. 

y/n had the same emotional response as Spencer, and they embraced and spent a good part of the day deciding where it would go in the baby's room. 

At this stage in the pregnancy timeline, y/n was very dependent on Spencer but also felt the need to make everything ready. Their baby was due in a little under two weeks, and y/n could be found sometimes scrubbing the floors and counters, as well as going through her hospital bag again and again and again, even though Spencer had helped her pack it with her most comfortable clothes and supplies she would need for the day of the delivery. y/n had spent hours over this period talking about what she would want to eat after she gave birth and how her favorite _y/f/f_ would taste so, so good. Their normal routine now, when Spencer was home, was that he’d wake up and make her breakfast, then help her with things in the bathroom. Often y/n woke and Spencer would have his hands on her belly feeling for kicks from their baby girl, and more often now, he would be hunched over and talking to their baby quietly, like they were sharing some secret conversation just between the two of them. Spencer had read every book he could get his hands on about parenting and pregnancy. After a while, y/n had called for a ban on buying new books and reminded Reid that he had his public library card and access to databases from all of his prior universities. Spencer had known about talking to babies in the womb, and he’d questioned the science behind it, but as y/n had needed to spend more time in bed in the mornings, she’d find him talking to her belly, and she found it very cute. Even though she did wonder what he was saying. 

This morning, y/n woke before Spence who was sleeping soundly beside her as the baby gave a few sharp kicks to y/n’s side. y/n placed her hands on her side and said softly, “I know baby. I’m just as excited to meet you too. It going to be a big day when you come, sweetheart.” y/n lay back and considered turning on her side but didn’t. y/n did move her hand up to Spencer’s curly hair and threaded her fingers through his locks. Spencer naturally turned on his side toward her. After a few more minutes of slumber, Spence lazily opened his eyes. He smiled when he saw y/n and he sat up with a stretch. “How was your sleep, sweetheart?” y/n smiled over at him and replied, “I’m good. I had to get up a few times to use the bathroom, but I slept well. I had a dream I was on the field again, but I was this far along. It’s safe to say I wasn’t very useful.” Reid chuckled and said, “Well I’m glad you slept well.” Spencer leaned over and kissed her softly on the mouth and said, “Let me just say good morning to our baby girl and I’ll get you your breakfast in bed today, love.” y/n smiled and nodded as Spencer leaned over and kissed her tummy, running his hands over it before he leaned over and softly, almost inaudibly spoke to their baby. This procedure happened every morning. y/n assumed it happened even when she was still asleep and Spencer went in early. y/n’s hands found their way back into Reid’s soft locks which she massaged gently. Spencer’s eyes flickered up to hers and then back to his task. When he finished, Spencer looked up and y/n had to ask, “What do you say to her every morning?” 

Spencer's smile brightened and said, “Promise me you won’t think it’s silly?” y.n cocked her head and said, “Of course not Spence.” His response made y/n wonder what he was going to say even more. Reid let out a little chuckle and said, “Well, I start by telling her good morning. And then I tell her how excited we are to meet her. Most times I count down the days till she’ll come so she learns her numbers.” y/n nodded along and then Spencer said, “And I also pray to every goddess of pregnancy and fertility I know for a safe delivery and good day that she’s born. Just asking for some help when I get very stressed out on the day of.” At this admission, y/n quicked an eyebrow. She didn’t laugh, she thought it was cute, but not much in Spence’s character. y/n ran her hand over Reid’s sharp jaw and asked, “You never came across as much of a religious person Spencer? Is this something new?” Spencer sheepishly looked at y/n and said, “Well, I don’t know if I believe my prayers are reaching anyone I’m asking for help. But, I’ve learned as much as I can about what’s coming, but that doesn’t mean I know what’s coming. I suppose I can’t predict everything, and having some extra help, even if it’s a placebo can’t hurt. Think of it like a little protection spell. You and our baby girl are the most important thing in the world for me. And I’ll do anything, anything to keep you safe. Even participating in a bit of superstition to make sure it happens.” y/n smiled warmly and pulled Reid into a hug, burying her face into his chest. y/n knew that Spencer was going to be the best father ever. They had a team behind them ready to support them. But as y/n took in just how special Spencer was to her and their baby, she sent up a little prayer of her own for anyone who would listen, thanking the universe for bringing them together. 

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[m00nl1ghts1vt]

Don't Think Different - Matt Sturniolo

Requested by anon Pairings - bf!Matt x gf!Reader Summary - You and your long-term boyfriend, Matt, get invited to a friend's wedding. As the ceremony goes on, you and Matt can't help but wonder what it'd be like if it was your wedding day instead. Warnings - Just some fluff 🥰 established relationship, mentions of marriage and children W/c - 907 A/n - Heyy guys ❤️ I tried my hardest with this one. I don't have too much experience when it comes to cultural differences so, please don't hate. I had to do a bit of research for this one! I hope everyone likes it! (Dividers and photos are not mine. All credits to owners) Tags - @lvrsturniolo (if anyone else wants on my tag list just let me know!) Masterlist. Requests are open. Current series - City of Love.

“Ready baby?” Matt sounds from the driver's seat of his car. You look at him, nodding, “yea let’s go.”

You and your boyfriend, Matt, were attending a close friend's wedding. You met the couple in college, quickly becoming their third wheel. A year later, you met Matt on a fun night out with them. You labeled Raj and Carina as your ‘parent friends’, so when Matt got their approval, you were jumping for joy! 

Though, three years have passed and both relationships have flourished tremendously. Your relationship with Matt didn’t move as quickly as Raaj and Carina’s did. I mean, they were getting married while you and Matt just hit one year of living together a couple months ago. You were happy for your friends, but a bit jealous that you and your long-term boyfriend weren’t in their shoes. 

Exiting the car, Matt grabs your hand and leads you into the venue. It’s an outdoor wedding with flowers and tapestries draped from the sky, setting a fun and playful mood for the guests. It really was beautiful.

“Oh my god,” you slap a hand over your mouth. You look around, taking in the breathtaking view. Matt looks over at you smiling, “I know! This is amazing!” He was in awe just as you were. The two of you take your seats, waiting for the ceremony to start. The groom, Raaj, comes in first, music blaring and his groomsmen following close behind him. When Carina approaches the aisle, all eyes on her, her dress is all white and bedazzled with crystals. Her veil matches, beaded crystals drooping off of it. Looking over at Matt, “I love her dress!” you mouth at him. He smiles at you and nods back to the bride. 

You turn your attention towards your friend as she approaches her soon-to-be husband. You couldn’t wait for that to be you and Matt up there. Your heart fluttered at the thought of marrying him and starting a family. It didn’t matter that your relationship went at a slower pace than most. As long as he wasn’t going anywhere, you didn’t care how quickly things progressed. Matt reaches his hand out, placing it on your thigh, and rubbing small circles into your skin. Your eyes meet his and he gives you a reassuring smile. 

The two of you watch as your newly married friends circle around the fire seven times and exchange varmala’s. Raaj bows as Carina puts the varmala around his neck, accepting his wife. He stands upright, smiling big as he puts his varmala over Carina’s head. The crowd cheers, giving the newlyweds a standing ovation as confetti and flowers shoot through the air. Matt wraps his arm around your shoulder, ducking his head until its ear level to you. He places a soft kiss on the side of your face, “that’ll be us next.”

Heat rises to your cheeks at his comment. God, you wish it was your moment right now. You had a habit of wanting as much of Matt as you could get, not in an overly possessive way. The passion your relationship with Matt held was undeniable. As guarded as he was, it only made you want to break his walls down even further - and that’s exactly what you did. It took a while, but you got there. So, Matt telling you he planned on marrying you was something you only dreamed about before. He never talked about marriage before, him mentioning it now made you fall into a daydream. Imagining the wedding you always wanted felt surreal to you. 

You look over at Matt after a while, “I’m not in a rush.” You knew damn well that if you could have it your way Matt would be dropping to one knee and pulling out a ring right then and there. That’d be considered rude at someone else's wedding, right? You watch as Matt purses his lips together, “I am,” making you giggle at him. 

“Seriously, we’ve been together for years. Getting married doesn’t seem too bad, right?” he scratches the back of his neck nervously. Truth is, Matt never knew if marriage was a goal for you. You came from a divorced household, so he always thought it was a sensitive topic for you. He wasn’t wrong and he never brought it up. 

“Well, duh,” you say a little louder than expected. All the guests are exiting their chairs, relocating to the reception tables. Matt snakes a hand around your waist as the two of you follow the group of people. “I know we’ve never talked about it, but marriage is a big goal of mine,” you tell him honestly, “and I hope it's one of yours too.”

Your words make Matt abruptly stop in his tracks. The sudden halt makes you stop with him, tripping over your own two feet. Matt keeps his grip on your waist firm, not letting you faceplant and he turns you to him. “Of course, I want to marry you, Y/n. This isn’t just fun and games to me, this is serious. I want it all with you, I want to put a ring on that finger and babies in that belly,” his fingertips dig into your waist as he talks, lifting your hand and stroking your ring finger. He brings it up to his lips, giving your hand a small peck, “don’t think any different, okay?”

[daisynik7]

Epilogue

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~4.7k

cw: switching POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Todo is in 3rd), established relationship, explicit language, smut – phone sex, PIV sex (cowgirl, doggy), nipple play, clitoral stimulation, lots of dirty talk, degrading language (use of the word slut), pet names (babe, baby, baby girl, good girl, princess, sweetheart)

Summary: All of what happens in four months of dating your new boyfriend slash past rival Aoi Todo, leading up to Takada-Chan’s “Winter Wonderland”.

Author’s Notes: Things get explicit here! This is just a fun little bonus chapter to see our two idol fans going at it (literally). Hope you enjoy! Thank you everyone for all the love and support on this, I really appreciate it! Divider credit to @/saradika. 

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Tag List: @iwillbiteabitch

Dating Aoi Todo is never boring. If you’ve learned anything from this relationship so far, it’s that. 

Also, taking things slow has proved to be much more difficult than you and Todo ever anticipated, especially when the two of you are alone together. That commitment is broken about a week into your budding relationship.  

The night of the confession, you and your new boyfriend talked for hours while Sara slept on your couch as a watchdog. You didn’t dare try anything with your best friend right outside just a few feet away. To prevent temptation, you set up an air mattress for him as the night progressed, agreeing to sleep separately. The only physical contact you made was when you both feel asleep in your respective beds, holding hands. Cute, innocent, and wholesome.  

After that night, you and Todo started texting every day. He is a man who loves sending good morning texts, along with an array of different emojis. His favorites are the smirking face (of course), the muscle flex (another of course), and surprisingly, the koala bear, which always leaves you with a goofy smile on your face whenever you see it.

Four days after the confession, there is a late-night phone call that lasts over three hours, covering different topics from favorite foods (his is skirt steak, yours is salmon nigiri), ideal date ideas (both of you said a Takada-Chan concert), and pet peeves (he said boredom, you said passive aggressiveness). 

This call also may or may not have ended with phone sex. 

You and Todo just finished discussing your favorite movies when he asks, “Aren’t you sleepy? It’s past one already.”

“I drank a lot of matcha today, so I’m still wide awake,” you explain, shifting around beneath your blanket.

There is silence on the other line and after a while, he finally says, “I can help you fall asleep. So, what are you wearing?”

You snort into the phone, laughing at his less-than-subtle attempt. “You can’t be serious right now.”

“Come on! Just play along!” He clears his throat and in a significantly lower octave, he repeats, “So…what are you wearing?”

You do your best to hide your giggles. “A t-shirt and pajama shorts.”

Even his smirk is audible through the phone. “Sexy.”

Cheeks getting sore from smiling , you comment, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re not very good at this?”

“I’m good at it! Come on babe, you’re ruining the mood. Just…let me get in the groove.”

Growing impatient from his feeble attempts, you take matters into your own hands. “Why don’t you think about me in that mini skirt you like so much. The one from Takada-Chan’s birthday. I know how much you like that.”

“Okay,” he replies quietly, some movement evident on his end.

“You’re supposed to show me how rough you like it, remember?”

“Yeah,” he blurts out, starting to breathe heavily. “Can we do that one time? Please?” 

Hearing him beg arouses you, hand reaching between your legs, spreading them wider beneath the covers. Feeling too brazen at this point, you purr, “Only if you can make me come right now.”

He whispers your name under his breath, followed by a husky, “Fuck. Tell me what you want to hear.” There’s movement against cloth and you can only imagine now that he’s touching himself, palming the bulge straining inside his briefs. 

You shove your panties down your legs, rubbing circles around your clit. “Tell me how you want to fuck me in that skirt.” You’re already wet with arousal, though you don’t tell him that yet, keeping it a naughty secret to reveal when the time is right.

“I want you to ride me in that fucking skirt. Want to bounce you on my fat cock.” His growl is guttural, too fitting for a grade-A beefcake like him. Of course he sounds this sexy when he’s turned on, and of course you’re falling fast for it. 

Desperate to hear more, you goad him. “Yeah? What else?”

He swears harshly again, loving the way you coax him into being bad. “Want to suck on your tits while you’re bouncing on me. Want to play with your clit until you squirt all over my cock.”

“Fuck, I’m touching myself right now,” you whine, squirming against your fingers. 

His voice is erratic, trembling with frenzy, gradually losing himself to the pleasure. “Yeah? Imagine my big fucking thumb on your pretty clit, rubbing it so fucking fast until you come on my big dick.”

“I’m so wet for you, so creamy for you.” You’re salivating, drool leaking from the sides of your mouth, fingers squelching lewdly between your thighs.

“Spread it all over,” he demands. If you listen closely enough, you can hear the rapid strokes of his cock within his fist. “Do it, slut.”

You obey his orders, sliding your middle finger up and down your slit, collecting your slick to smear it over your throbbing bud, so close to your orgasm. In a daze, you moan his name, letting is roll off your tongue.

He jerks himself off to completion, coming from the sweet sounds of his name from your mouth. In between heavy breaths, he grunts harshly. “Fuck. I just came. Sorry.”

You giggle, slowing the pace of your fingers, teasing him. “I thought you were the one that offered to help mefall asleep?”

Embarrassed, he says, “I know, I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect you to say my name like that. That really got me.” There’s more shuffling in the background as you picture him inspecting his own mess. “Holy shit, I came a lot.”

“You should go to bed. You’re probably sleepy now.”

“No, not yet. I have to make you come still,” he offers, determined. 

��It’s fine.”

“No. I need to make you come tonight so I can fuck you in that skirt. It’s going to happen.”

You learn that when Todo is determined to do something, he does it. He is a man that, when given any challenge, will do his damn best to complete it no matter what. 

~~~

Not counting the phone sex, Todo could confidently say that they have been successful in taking things slow. That is, until a few days after the infamous phone sex, when all hell breaks loose.

It begins when his girlfriend decides to host a Takada-Chan concert marathon. The pop idol kicks off her international tour a week after Todo’s confession. To honor the start of it, she invites him, Sara, and Yuji to eat a bunch of delicious food and binge watch all Takada-Chan’s concerts available on streaming platforms. Sara and Yuji stay a while, but after the fourth consecutive Takada-Chan concert, they have enough, leaving the couple alone to their own devices, which anyone could guess is not a good idea if they are still sticking to the “taking things slow” route.

As soon as their friends leave, the two give each other one glance before the kissing starts. He spent all day resisting the temptation to touch her in any way since they were with Sara and Yuji. It’s been an excruciating four hours considering how cute and irresistible his girlfriend is. 

She slides her hands under his shirt, pawing at his eight-pack. He slips his tongue inside her mouth as he completely pulls his shirt off. She pulls back, gawking at his body with wide eyes and an open mouth, practically drooling for him. “Like what you see?” he teases, raising a brow at her. She nods her head, leaning in for more kisses. 

Eventually, she whispers, “Wait.”

He stops, leaning back on the couch. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just have a little surprise for you. Wait here.” She gets up and disappears into her bedroom, leaving Todo confused and concerned. After several agonizingly long minutes, she comes out. When he sees her, his jaw drops, blood rushing straight to his cock. 

The mini skirt. She’s wearing the fucking mini skirt. Not only that, she’s also wearing the same blouse she wore at the café, the one that exposes her shoulders and plunging neckline. Essentially the same outfit he has fantasized about since. In one swift motion, he hoists her up onto his lap, spreading her legs so that she’s straddling him. “You’re such a good girl for me, huh?” he growls, scattering wet smooches all over her face. “Such a good girl.” He fondles her body beneath the skirt and to his shock and delight, she isn’t wearing any underwear. “Not even wearing any panties for me, you fucking slut.”

“Only for you,” she whispers, directing his giant hand to her pussy. “Do you feel how wet I am for you already?”

“Fuck,” he breathes out, pressing his thumb to her and drawing circles around her clit. A guttural moan vibrates from her throat, making him move his thumb faster. 

“I want you,” he grunts, feeling fucking feral beneath her. 

“You want to fuck me here on the couch?” She’s panting now as his fingers brush against her bud faster. 

“Yeah, right here, right now. Show me that pretty pussy.” With his free hand, he lifts the hem of her skirt to put her on display,  watching her melt away in the palm of his hand, thumb unyielding against her clit. It glistens with her slick and his dick get tighter and tighter in his pants from the mere sight of it.

She tugs at the waistband of his joggers to release his erection. There’s a thick bead of precum on the tip. She rubs her thumb on it, spreading it over the head, causing him to groan in pleasure. Somehow, she conjures up a bottle of lube and pours a generous amount straight onto him, then she slides her fist up and down his shaft. In this moment of pure ecstasy, he can’t help but thank the pop idol gods for bringing this goddess of a woman into his life. He slides his fingers inside her, relishing how wet she is. Everything is happening so fast; his carnal desires take control. “Fucking ride me,” he commands. 

She gets up on her knees, guiding the tip of his dick to her fluttering hole. Slowly, she sinks down on him, moaning. This is the hottest thing he’s ever fucking seen in his life. “So tight for me. My good girl,” he coos, gripping at her hips and gently moving her further down his shaft. 

“So big, baby. Oh my god,” she whines. Once he bottoms out, she grabs hold of his shoulders and rocks back and forth on his lap, adjusting to his size. 

“Take the skirt off. Want to watch you fuck yourself on my fat cock.” 

He tries to lift her up from his lap, but she shakes her head. “Don’t pull out. Feels so good. So good.” 

Absolutely unhinged, Todo growls, “I’m going to rip this skirt off, then. Need to see your pussy creaming all over me.” He hooks to the waistband, easily ripping it along the seams, tossing it behind him. Smirking, he whispers, “That’s it. Just like that.”

“My skirt!” she cries out, shocked and aroused. 

“I’ll buy you a new one, princess. I’ll buy you hundreds more so I can fuck you just like this.” He holds her waist again, setting the pace, thrusting his own hips into her. His eyes are glued to the shiny ring of her cum collecting on the base of his cock. “You’re so fucking hot, you know that? You wanted to get fucked in that skirt, huh? Such a slut for me.” He releases his tight grip on her as soon as she starts bouncing up and down on her own, digging her nails into the skin of his shoulders, fucking herself deeper. The sounds she makes are music to his ears.

He focuses on her clit again, massaging it with his thumb. She gasps, startling him. “You okay, sweetie?” He cups her cheek, caressing her skin softly.

“Yes, so fucking good!” Her eyes are half-lidded, mouth parted open, looking absolutely divine. She grabs at his wrist and puts her lips over his thumb, completely engulfing it into her sloppy mouth. She moves him in and out, swirling her tongue around him with each stroke. 

He bites his lip to stifle a moan. It takes everything in his willpower to hold back his orgasm. The way she moans, the fucked out look on her face, the thumb sucking. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time. He pulls out of her mouth and switch hands to place his wet thumb on her clit, while the other hand, still glistening from her slick, glides underneath her blouse and up to one of her nipples. She isn’t wearing a bra. 

“Such a fucking good girl,” he murmurs as he strips the blouse off her body. He squeezes one of her breasts and puts his lips around the nipple, sucking hard. With both her hands, she squeezes her tits together, leaning forward, feeding them to him.

“Yeah, want to feed me these big tits, huh baby? So fucking needy.” He buries his face in between her breasts, kissing her nipples one at a time. 

“Suck them hard,” she whimpers. He alternates between each breast, sucking hard until each nipple is taut and plump between his pursed lips.

Mouth hot on his ear, she purrs, “Baby, I’m so close.”

“Come for me, beautiful. Come all over my cock.”

With his lips latched onto her breasts, thumb relentless on her clit, and cock deep in her pussy, it’s no surprise when, after just a few more minutes, she throws her head back and cries out, “I’m coming!” She clenches around him, creating a sensation of pure ecstasy, he can’t help but orgasm right along with her. She moans as it continues, his thick cum filling her up, the excess dripping down the inner plush of her thighs. She collapses against him, panting and trembling slightly from the euphoric rush. Todo cradles her in a warm embrace, burying his face into her neck. 

“You did so good, sweetie. So good for me. Thank you,” he muffles, breathing heavily against her skin. 

“That was amazing,” she says, still slumped over Todo. 

“You should go pee, baby. Don’t want you to get a UTI.”

“Just give me a few minutes. I’m tired.”

Todo, who is also exhausted from having the biggest orgasm of his life, gets up and carries his girlfriend bridal style into the bathroom. He plops her down on the toilet and turns the shower on. When he hears the distinct sound of a tinkle, he breathes a sigh of relief. No girlfriend of Aoi Todo will ever get a UTI from sex, not on his watch. 

~~~

Once the floodgates open, nothing stops you and Todo from pouncing on each other every chance you get. The sex is always nothing short of amazing. Despite not being able to keep your hands off each other, you still try to keep PDA down to a minimum. But Todo, being the big bravado self he is, let’s his guard down a few times. He still grabs your ass in public, especially when you’re wearing dresses, shorts, or skirts. And honestly, after the first time, you intentionally started wearing skirts more often just to tease him. 

Whenever you do indulge in the occasional kiss in front of your friends, Todo always gets carried away, shamelessly driving his tongue into your mouth. Normally, you love this, but only in private. Understandably, Sara always gives your boyfriend a whack on top of the head to get him to stop, which he does before muttering an embarrassed apology.

Besides the disgust over the occasional PDA, Sara and Todo get along great. They bond over working out, horror movies, and teasing you. Todo’s brother Yuji is your brother now too. He’ll ask you for advice when it comes to girls or his friendships. You ask him for advice on how to deal with annoying people at work, since Todo’s advice is always, “Just tell me their name and I will beat the shit out of them.” 

As with any relationship, there are issues you two have to work through. When Todo first explains his job, you are convinced he is playing some bizarre prank on you. To be fair, someone describing themselves as a “Jujutsu Sorcerer” who “exorcises” evil curses sounds like something straight out of a shounen anime. When he demonstrate Boogie Woogie, where he manages to switch positions with Yuji in the blink of an eye, you are certain you are going crazy. After a few weeks of processing everything, with a lot of patience from Todo and moral support from Yuji, you can safely say you’ve made peace with understanding the gist of Todo’s profession. Of course, there is still plenty that you can’t grasp, but Todo’s confidence in himself relieves the stress caused by that uncertainty. 

There are times of jealousy and insecurity on both sides that lead to fighting and arguments. When you start your full-time job after the summer, he gets jealous over one of your male coworkers training you for a week. Even after doing your best to convince him that it is strictly professional, he still can’t help himself from making snide remarks about your coworker at the end of the week. An issue that you’re still working on, and slowly getting better at, is trying not to be petty when you get annoyed with him. During this time, you just can’t help yourself.

Eventually, you manage to find the best way to shut him up. 

It’s been two weeks since you started your new full-time job. This week, you worked with a coworker, Kenji Saito, for training. Saito is a man several years older than you who is married with kids. But none of this matters to Todo because he is still jealous. As you prepare dinner at his place, you mention, “Training went well. Saito said I should be ready for my first project next week.”

Todo grunts. “Saito. I’m surprised you’re not calling him by his first name yet. You two have been spending soooo much time together.”

You smile to yourself, unable to resist provoking him. “I barely call you by your first name. But if you want, I can start calling him Kenji.”

He moves behind you like a lion stalking his prey, growling in your ear. “Don’t do that.”

You turn to face him, his body towering above you, casting a daunting shadow. “What are you going to do about it, Aoi?”

As quickly as he moved behind you, he slings you over his shoulder, carrying you into the bedroom. He tosses you onto his bed, stripping off his clothes while you do the same, already wet against your panties. You’re laid on your back when he straddles you, the way he looms over you intensifies the growing sensation in your loins. He leans down to kiss you sloppily. “Only I get to do this to you, right? No one else?” he asks, between kisses.

“Yes, baby. Of course.”

“Then say it for me. Please.”

“Only you get to do this to me. Only you.”

He flips you over on your stomach and presses up against you, lips tickling your ear as he demands, “Say it. Say it again.” His cock throbs between your ass cheeks. 

“Only you, Aoi. This pussy is only for you. Fuck,” you whimper, desperate to feel him inside you.

“It’s mine, huh? You’re my good girl. You’re my fucking slut. Say it.”

“I’m your good girl, Aoi. I’m your – “, you pause to catch your breath. “I’m your fucking slut.” 

He gets off to reach towards the dresser next to the bed. As he does this, you get on your hands and knees, ready for what’s to come (literally). You crane your neck to watch him smear a generous amount of lube along his hard cock, causing you to lick your lips in anticipation. He tosses the bottle onto the floor and positions himself behind you. 

You stick your ass out, back arched and ready for him. He slides the tip along the folds of your pussy, guiding himself in slowly. It’s times like these that you are reminded at how fucking huge your boyfriend is, and you love it. Once he’s to the hilt, he stops. “Shake your ass on my cock. You know how I like it.”

With your hands clenched to the sheets, you thrust yourself onto his dick, back and forth, back and forth. After you’re fully adjusted to his size, you pick up the pace, his cock easily sliding in and out with each thrust. “Just like that baby. Fuck. Wish I could take a video of this. You look so good on my cock. Doing such a good job,” he praises, watching you do all the work.

You continue to move yourself relentlessly on him, moaning loudly into the pillow. When you reach your climax, your back arches even more as you orgasm without saying anything. You don’t want him to know you came already as you keep on fucking him. Todo chuckles in his deep voice. You can almost feel the vibrations of his laugh against your throbbing pussy. “I know you came all over my cock, baby. You can’t fool me. You’re so wet. It’s dripping all over the sheets, nasty girl.” He reaches around to rub your clit, his fingers lubed up and wet with your cum. 

“Fuck. Aoi. Oh my god, don’t stop. Oh fuck,” you whine.

“You’re so good to me, baby. So good. Taking it like a good girl,” he whispers, massaging your sensitive bud deeper. Your pace slows down, knees weak from your first orgasm. Todo places his free hand on your waist, spreading his fingers wide to grip at your skin. “Let me take over, baby girl.” 

You let him, of course. He uses his hold on you to time the thrusts of his hips perfectly. Todo makes you orgasm twice more in this position before he releases himself inside you, filling you up to the brim with his creampie. He pulls out, his load making a mess on his sheets. 

After you do your business in the bathroom, the two of you cuddle in bed, blissed out and exhausted. He turns towards you, kissing you on the forehead, apologizing. “I’m sorry.”

You hum, closing your eyes. “For what?”

“Being annoying,” he admits.

“And…?”

“Being jealous.”

“…And?”

He nuzzles his nose against yours. “For being an asshole.” 

You smile, peaking at him with one eye open. “I’m sorry for being petty. I’ll work on not using that against you when you’re feeling upset about something.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t that upset. Like anyone can compete with me, right? Especially not Saito.” He makes a face when he says that name.

Still feeling a little naughty, you joke, “You mean Kenji?”

You immediately regret it as soon as he wrestles between the sheets, giggling hysterically as he tickles you to the point of tears. 

~~~

It’s been four months since you’ve been dating Aoi Todo. Four months of amazing sex, occasional bickering reminiscent of the origins of your relationship, and new discoveries about each other that bring you closer than ever. 

Now, you stand beside your boyfriend, waiting in line at the mall you first met at. Today, Takada-Chan is hosting a special Winter Wonderland event. Essentially, instead of taking a picture on Santa’s lap, Takada-Chan fans get to take a picture next to the pop idol in front of a snowy backdrop. After touring internationally the last few months, the singer planned an impromptu appearance at the mall of her hometown to celebrate the holiday season.  

When it’s finally your turn, Takada-Chan greets you with that beautiful, bright smile. “My favorite couple! I’m so happy you made it! I was hoping to see you today.”

“Takada-Chan! We’re happy to see you, too. It’s been a while. How has the tour been?”

“Tiring. It’s nice to be back home for a little bit. Happy holidays! Oh! Todo, please go follow Haru, he’s going to give you a little something. Think of it as a special gift from me.” She winks. Todo bows deeply and follows Haru behind the set. You can’t help but smile to yourself noticing that your boyfriend is still speechless around the pop idol. Some things never change.

You decide to finally be honest with her. “Takada-Chan. You’ve been so good to us. I have to come clean about something. The first time you met Todo and I, we weren’t actually a couple. We were just faking it because you seemed to like us so much better together. I’m sorry.” You look at her nervously, praying to the pop idol gods that she isn’t too upset for the deception.

To your surprise, she smiles even wider, a twinkle in her eyes. “I know.”

“You know?!”

“I knew you two weren’t a couple. To be honest, I knew it was a bit risky on my end to play matchmaker, but I just couldn’t help myself! Who better to be together than two of my #1 fans?” She gives you another wink as you stare at her, mouth agape. 

She continues. “Also, sweet Todo was convinced that I was his future wife. Poor guy doesn’t know I don’t swing that way. So, I wanted to steer him in the right direction to you. And now look. The fruits of my labor! The results are a beautiful harvest of love. You two are just as cute as I thought you’d be.”

Shocked, you stammer, “Takada-Chan…I really don’t know what to say. How can I…how can we repay you?”

She reaches her arms out to squeeze your shoulders. “I don’t need you to repay me! Anything for my fans.” Leaning closer, she whispers, “But tell me this: Who made the first move? You see, Haru and I had a little bet going since the two of your first visited my dressing room. Haru claims he won, since he saw Todo holding your hand at the big group date. I placed my bets on you, of course.”

“Well, actually, I kissed Todo that morning. So, you did win.”

The pop idol jumps up giddily. “You made the first move?! I knew it! That’s my girl! I love a woman who takes initiative! I’m going to pester Haru to give me my money back.”

“Thank you for everything, Takada-Chan. I mean it.”

“I’m happy for the both of you. Can’t wait to see you at my next event. DM me if you ever need anything!” With a hug, the two of you say your goodbyes. 

You find an empty bench nearby to sit on while you wait for your boyfriend. Todo reappears from the back with two black t-shirts in hand. As he sits next to you, he unfolds the shirts so you can see the front. It’s a screen-printed photo of you, Todo, and Takada-Chan doing the Taka-tan beam in her dressing room. 

“This is awesome! Our own special gift from Takada-Chan! I’ll cherish this forever. My two future wives in one picture,” he grins.

Laughing, you wrap your arms around him, giving him a passionate smooch on the lips. Blushing, he asks, “What was that for?”

“I just really wanted to kiss you.” You gaze into his eyes, smiling before saying, “Because I love you.”

His eyes widen. “What did you say?”

“I love you, Aoi.”

Suddenly, he picks you up and sits you on his lap, beaming. “You love me?”

“Yes. I love you!” You throw your arms around him in a warm embrace. 

He buries his face into your neck, muffling, “I love you, too. I love you so much.” He holds your face in between his palms, kissing you square on the lips. “I love you,” he repeats, kissing you all over your cheeks, forehead, and neck. His hands roam down to your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

Relationships are never perfect. People are never perfect. But this moment right now is perfect. Confessing your love feels natural. It makes sense. To think that this whole thing started off as a ridiculous rivalry and blossomed into a “beautiful harvest of love”, as a certain pop idol would say. It just proves that sometimes, finding love can start off silly and ridiculous. And with Takada-Chan playing matchmaking for you and Todo, you couldn’t write a better love story than this.

[thefangirlfever]

MIGUEL O'HARA x reader (18+, smut) MDNI

firefighter AU🧑‍🚒🔥🚒

Art credit: @kit-and-wolfe on Tumblr

Summary: You and Miguel are dating and he had hidden from you that he took part to a fireman’s calendar.

Notes: Just a silly idea I got from seeing multiple great firefighter Aus and a conversation with I had with @lazyjellyfish300 about Miguel! firefighter getting flustered. This story is a direct continuation of this post.

Tags: smut, F/M, AU, Firefighter AU, cunnilingus, PIV penetration, established relationship, fingering, no plot just smut, horny FMC, dirty talk (may be cringe), mention of masturbation (F/M), aftercare, breast and nipple play, hint at size kink, discussion around contraception

Word count: 3858 words

April was now your favorite month of the year. Most people would think that it was because you were excited about the upcoming Spring, the Sun in the sky and all those things, or maybe it was your birthday’s month. But you were unfortunately more pragmatic.

No, it was simply that the picture on your calendar for this month was to die for. Lying on glazed paper, in A4 format, a hand on his hip and his helmet on the other a tall, stupidly handsome man was looking at the camera with a bedroom look in his eyes. Firefighters have never been your thing, and you even considered it weird that a whole profession could be fetishized in a way or another but...that was different. You had to admit that you kind of see the appeal of it now. Honestly, this man could be anything else than a firefighter and you would probably still get the hots while looking at his picture.

Abs for days, rock hard chest with the right amount of thick, curly black hair that lazily trailed down toward a mouth-watering happy trail (that could only let you presume of a thick, happy bush), the infamous V-line that made his hips dip sensually under oily skin… Well, they really went all out with this picture. It was probably a bit edited but still...They even left his five o’clock shadow and the scar on his left arm. Good. Very good. That’s some professional job, you could tell.

You could have spend hours looking at this picture and still find new details about it. In fact the idea was very tempting, hence why your calendar was still stuck on the month of April despite being already mid-August. The calendar was pinned on your fridge and you could look at it every time you would cook or eat, which was exactly what you were doing right now. Well, at least you were trying because as soon as you would try to bring your fork to your mouth, your eyes would land again on the perfect picture.

The fact that you knew the model didn’t help at all your trouble.

You had met Miguel a few months ago through joined acquaintances and you didn’t even know he was a firefighter at the time. He would rarely speak about his job, not even to complain about it. And certainly not to brag. You quickly realized that he was quite secretive and shy when it came to his private life. It was very rare, almost impossible to hear him brag and he didn’t really take compliments very well. No idea where this insecurity could come from. He was quite a catch honestly, not even speaking physically. Miguel was overall someone nice and caring, as if his job didn’t already convey this trait of his personality enough. Maybe that’s why the two of you got along very well. When he was devoted to the well-being of most people and selfless, you were selfish, pragmatic and even a bit bitter. He was the type of person who would wake up at 4 in the morning to help the others and you were the type of person who after waking up at 10 am would shamelessly ogle the picture of a half-naked man, wondering about the size of his…

Your phone softly buzzed, taking you out your daydream. As soon as Miguel’s name appeared on the screen, you came back to your senses and picked up the phone.

“Hi…”

“Were you still sleeping?”, he asked with an amused voice. While most people would find you lazy, Miguel had simply accepted that your lifestyle was not his and that you were more of a night owl. This doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t tease you from time to time about it.

You rubbed your hand over your tired eyes and groaned into the phone:

“No...I was...eating...is there a problem?”

“You left your sweater in my car yesterday. I thought I could come give it back to you after training.”

Your brain took a few seconds to understand his words but when it did, your eyes opened wide and you jumped to your feet, scurrying toward the front door.

“You’re already here?”

“Well, I was in the neighborhood and I thought I could stop by. I also brought breakfast since I thought you would have just waken up…”

He sounded almost apologetic as if he had dragged you of bed. Your heart stammered into your chest and a stupid grin curled up your lips. Sweet, selfless Miguel. How did he manage to always make your cold demeanor crumble? That was a mystery to you.

You opened the door and there, stood Miguel, a large bag of edibles in his arm, your sweater perfectly folded in a small bag while he was still holding his phone. And as if the sight of him wasn’t sweet enough already, he was still wearing his athleisure clothes, ie a tank top and loose grey shorts. His skin was covered in a thin sheet of sweat and his brown locks were stuck to his temples and the back of his neck. A treat for the eyes.

The moment he saw you in your sleepwear, he turned off his phone and a small blush crept up his face. You were only wearing a short and a tank top but he didn’t mind. That was...quite a nice view.

“Well, you are definitely awake.”, he joked quietly as you made sign for him to enter the apartment. “I was afraid that I would wake you up.”

You could definitely wake me up anytime you want.

“No, don’t worry, it’s fine.” You grabbed the bag he was handing you with your sweater inside. It was neatly folded, even better than what you would usually do to your clothes. You might as well invite him over to share breakfast with you. Miguel gladly accepted and followed you to the kitchen and as much as he tried to be a gentleman his eyes would always end up following the sway of your hips and the very appealing bounce of your butt. He started to feel a bit tight in his shorts and this feeling only increased when he noticed that you weren’t wearing a bra under your top. He cleared his throat, trying to chase those thoughts away; it was too early in the morning for this.

“I found this small french bakery down the block and I thought you would like to try these…”, he said while putting down the bag on the central island of the kitchen. The buzzing sound of the coffee machine filled the air just when you replied to him:

“Oh yeah, I actually wanted to try this one. Thanks.”

And now your nipples were pointing under the shirt.

Great.

This definitely didn’t help the situation down his pants and he wisely chose to advert his gaze...only to fall on the dreaded picture he hoped you would never hear about. A rush of color filled up his cheeks and he was practically sure he wasn’t half-hard or hard at all anymore. What was this thing doing here?

You turned around to put his mug of coffee down the counter and that’s when you noticed where his eyes were. Not on you, unfortunately, but on the calendar.

Shit!

You didn’t even bother to put it on the right month. Hopefully Miguel would take it as it is, a compliment. But the moment you saw his brows furrow and his jaw tighten, you had a serious doubt.

“Hum...Miguel?”

He didn’t respond at first and when he looked back in your direction, he still seemed very ashamed, almost mortified. A pink hue was covering his cheeks and the back of his ears. Seems like you were going to have a lot of fun...

“Yes?”

You let the silence last a bit more before replying: “Is there a problem?”

“No. No...why would there be any problem?”

“Because you’re all red in the face suddenly. I was wondering if something was making you feel uncomfortable…”, you asked innocently. At this point of your relationship, he should know better. He should know what this coy tone meant but he still fell in the trap: “It’s just… Where did you even get this calendar?”

“Does it bother you?”

“No...it’s just...a bit tacky. I didn’t think you would like something like this…”, he replied in a sheepish voice. If you knew any better than this, that man was flustered.

“It’s practical.”, you simply reply with a shrug of your shoulders, dismissing the embarrassment in his voice. Miguel awkwardly chuckled: “Then why is it stuck on April?”

“Touché.”, you replied with a sly grin. You then took a sip of your coffee and his eyes wouldn’t leave the shape of your lips molding against the edge of the cup or the way your eyes still looked at him under your lashes, as if you were a cat playing with a mouse. All this little game was making him feel hot under the collar and he nervously ran his hand through his hair.

“Maybe...I just like the picture.”, his eyes were trying to avoid your gaze but they would eventually flutter back to the alluring shape of your silhouette. “Maybe...this is just making me feel curious.”

He didn’t need to ask about what it made you feel curious. Your tone was already giving him enough hints and he could only sheepishly chuckle, almost giggling while the red in his cheeks intensified. “You can’t be serious…”

“What if I am?”

Your blunt answer took him by surprise and you took this short moment to move a bit closer to him but still keeping your hands to yourself, even if the urge to rest them against his body was becoming stronger by the minute.

You had just been thinking about this these last weeks. Ever since you brought that calendar back home, all you could think about was the moment you would get to lay on top of him, run your hands down his abdomen, unto some more exciting territory, crossing every single line. The image of his body would haunt you during your alone time, making you wish it was his hands bending you, making you scream and turning you into some drained but satisfied mush.

His breath faltered when your fingers hovered above the soft cotton of his sweater. The fabric clung to his body, drawing out the shape and relief of his build silhouette, all in sharp angles and dips like some statue.

“Maybe I want to see a bit more..."

Your fingers trailed down his torso, from his chest to his abdomen and you could feel the way his heartbeat quickened as well as the way his body tensed and arched into your touch, yielding against your fingers. The hard contour of his silhouette was being traced, made more noticeable for your eyes and your eyes only. Your hungry gaze made him feel wanted in a way he didn’t know was possible; a special talent of yours. Standing there, still covered in sweat and fresh out of his training, he couldn’t believe you still wanted him. And yet…

“You want to see more?”, he asked under his breath and with a quick nod from you, he took your hands guided them over his body.

Your fingers soon slipped under the fabric of his tank top and you rose on your tip toes in an attempt to kiss him. Given the height difference between you, he quickly opted for the easiest solution. His arms scooped you up and placed your body on top of the counter, shortening the distance between you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you didn’t waste a single second to pull him closer to you but you still managed to surprise him. He was not expecting for your lips to aim for his shoulder rather than his mouth and with a low groan, he welcomed the caress of your lips onto his skin as you traced your way up his neck.

The pressure of his fingers grew tighter on your sides as this make-out session turned steamier. Your nipping on his neck made him react almost immediately. His fingers slid down lower on your body and soon gave your ass a firm squeeze. He needed to get you out of these shorts and quickly. Your soft whimper onto his neck told him he was doing everything right and his hands kept kneading your soft rear while your own diligent hands removed his top, leaving your eyes free to feast on the sight of his after-work body. Every word you uttered seemed to get straight to his cock as he felt it practically twitch every time you would breathe a bit harder on his skin or tell him how nice he felt, how gorgeous he was.

“Lay down...just...get on your back…”, his breath was a bit more labored as he helped you lying down the counter. You were pinned under him when his hands finally lifted up your top, exposing your perky breasts. He had spent so much time fantasizing about them, this morning only they had been on his mind almost all-workout. Last night during your date, he couldn’t get his eyes out of them as soon as you would look away and they had been tempting too much since he entered your apartment. The perky mounds stuck out, resting on your chest like a crown, the tanned lines from your bikini making them stand out even more proudly. After a few seconds spent admiring them, he dipped his head onto the soft cleavage presented to him, not doing anything else than resting his face there at first.

Your hands stroked his hair, pulling him closer into your embrace and you began grinding your hips onto his aching cock. The shape of his erection was visible under the grey fabric as it strained against it, begging for release. He would wait. He always waited. There was no need to rush with someone like you. Even when he was alone, he would always take his time fantasizing about the endless possibilities of your body rather than bringing himself to climax quickly. There was no such thing as a quickie with him and today was no exception. He will focus on every single part of your body, take his time to taste it, to enjoy it to the fullest...no matter if it made his dick throb and swell with more and more arousal. No matter if he would end up practically whimpering while getting his face stuck in your pussy later.

Miguel nuzzled his face further onto your breasts. His face was smothered between your breasts, his lips occasionally licking and sucking on their plump flesh. Low growls would escape his lips every time his lips circled around one of your perky nipples, sucking in deeply, swirling his tongue around the rigid nub and the puffy areola. His hands were holding your waist where the hem of your pants slopped down, exposing your waist.

“Eres tan deliciosa...can’t wait to get more of you...”

His nose trails down the line of your abdomen, running over smooth skin while his thumbs rub in circle the skin over your sides. He tugged at the hem of your shorts with his teeth, silently pleading to get more of you.

“May I?” You groaned a small “yes” and he finally pulled down your shorts. When he nuzzled his nose onto your panties, pressing it right where your slit would be, your hips bucked. He giggled at your eager response.

“Sorry about that.”, you quickly apologized but he dismissed the said apology with a caress of his hand on your thigh, soothing your worry.

“There’s no need to worry.” He then pressed a soft kiss under your belly button and hummed, his breath warm on your skin: “You’re such a needy little thing sometimes.”

“I’m not needy.”, you replied with a growing blush.

“Mhh...who’s been keeping a calendar of half-naked men in her kitchen again?” His brow cocked in a teasing manner as he trailed a line of warm kisses all the day down to your entrance. Your breath hitched and you arched your back in response to his teasing:

“Are you going to remind me of this for a long time?”

“Yes.”

His hooked finger pushed your panties aside and he basked in the musky scent of your arousal, watching how your pubes glistened with arousal.

“Someone feeling jealous over there?”, you teased him which only earned you a chuckle.

“I have no reason to be jealous…”, his hands slipped under your butt and he lifted up a bit your body until your legs were wrapped around his neck, “...and I’m going to show you why.”

His lips dived into your parted legs, his mouth molding to the shape of your vulva as he suckled in deeply. Your essence spurted into his mouth, making you writhe slightly. His nose rubbed onto your clit while he swirled his tongue deeper between your slick folds. His cock was aching down his sweatpants, burning to be free and soon replacing his tongue.

As he kept lapping and sucking on your cunt, he slowly edged you until you couldn’t hold it anymore. The sound of you moaning and cooing his name was the sweetest reward he could get for his hard work; until you came undone. He could feel how close he was too to just climax, here and there on the spot. The sight of you, spread on the counter with your clothes ruffled and your puffy clit, throbbing and begging for more.

“Feeling good, mama?”, he softly asked while placing a soft peck on your thigh.

“Bedroom now.” Your enthusiasm made him giggle again and he kept placing soft pecks all over your face and shoulders while carrying you to the bedroom. Your eager hands slipped under the hem of his sweatpants and tried to grab a hold of his butt. As much as you liked this calendar, it was a shame it didn’t pay proper homage to the glorious work of art this man’s buttocks were.

Miguel finally let you go down the bed and slipped out of his sweatpants. He was rummaging through the nightstand, looking for the pack of condoms you always kept there.

You watched in awe as he tore open a condom and swiftly lowered his boxers. His cock sprung free, the tip almost slapping his lower belly as some precum already dripped from the swollen tip. His fingers quickly put on the condom and when he caught your gaze on him, he stopped, a sheepish smile on his lips: “Everything alright?”

“That was just the sexiest thing I’ve ever see you doing.” A sympathetic look took over his features as he crawled on top of you, peppering your face with soft kisses. It was probably the first time you’ve had a boyfriend who didn’t reluctantly put on a condom and who accepted that you just couldn’t put an IUD or take the pill. This was as refreshing as it was sexy and the delicate attention always made you feel grateful, no matter how much Miguel would tell you that it was nothing.

“How do you want to do this?”, he asked with his lips still pressed on your temple.

“I want to see you.” Your response seemed to please him a lot because he quickly obliged and soon you found yourself attached to one another, with his arms pinning you onto the bed while he kept moving back and forth between your warm walls. Every move he made was followed by a deep, throaty grunt on his side.

“Feeling good, sweetheart?”

You could only moan back at his question, wrapping yourself tightly around him as he was thrusting deeper into you. The heat between your two bodies was becoming unbearable as time went on and it only became stronger when he slipped his hand down your stomach and began toying with your clit.

“Gonna cum for me, okay sweetie? I want to make you feel so good…” The slight desperation in his tone didn’t go unnoticed on your side. He wanted nothing more but for you to remember this moment every time you would look at his picture. He wanted you to be as whipped for him as he was for you, completely and utterly transfixed.

“Miguel…” He knew what it meant when you cried out his name like that. It meant you were close and he made his mission to guide you through it with his fingers rubbing circles faster on your already sensitive and swollen clit.

“That’s it baby...just like that…”

Your body tensed and your grip on him tightened as he felt you reaching your climax. His praise didn’t stop soon and he kept placing soft pecks all over your face, especially around your furrowed brows, one thing he found adorable in these moments.

It took the two of your some time to calm down after this moment. Miguel had brought you back a towel from the bathroom to clean yourself and two glasses of water. It was a bit hot since it was the middle of the summer and he knew too well the risks of dehydration. However this didn’t stop him from cuddling with you, his arms tightly wrapped around your body, one hand tracing the curve of your hips, following the slope of it like a traveler climbing up a mountain. His eyes marveled at your body in silence, looking at the way the sweat had coated your skin. When he kissed the sensitive spot of skin behind your ear and playfully nuzzled his face into it, you squirmed a bit. But it was not enough to escape his grip and you just managed to rub yourself even more against him:

“Miguel...it’s already too hot. And I’m gross like that.”

Your words could have as well be heard by a deaf because he didn’t stop his kissing. In fact he even nuzzles his face lower on your body, his nose following the curve of your clavicle while he mumbled:

“You’re not gross. You’re perfect like that…”

You were glad he didn’t catch the blush that was blooming on your cheeks: “It’s still too hot for that…” But your protest wasn’t very convincing and none of you moved a single inch. It would soon be too hot to go out or even do anything at this point and your body succumbed to the promise of a lazy, indolent afternoon, resting in the arms of your lover.

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Notes: Thanks for reading this story! I hope you liked it. it's been a while since I've written smutty one-shot so I needed some time to get back on track. Hope it doesn't feel too awkward.

🌻🌻🌻

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