#he and Will are both ✨fun-sized✨

[malpractice-morale]

.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

ah i forgot sorry ♦️

Sub Boothill x Dom Top Male Reader because I am very normal about this man

Author's Note: I wanted to do HCs for this because I have some ✨ideas✨ I hope that's alright with you!

Pairings: Boothill x male reader

Sub Boothill… 🤤

Ugh, he can be such a tease. Seriously

This man knows he's attractive, he knows what his voice does to people, and he knows how to use these things to his advantage. And he does so REGULARLY

I can picture Boothill buying skimpy clothing and wearing it at random times just to rile you up

Booty shorts, thongs, crop tops. Anything that he thinks might get you going

Obviously, the cowboy enjoys riding you

His metal ass grinds down, and Boothill feels your cock reach deeper inside of him

His butt and thighs are so slap-able… alas, they are made of metal and it would hurt tremendously to slap them 😔

But you can at least still admire his booty. He looooves it when you admire any part of him, actually

Body worship is a big kink of his 👀👌

The faces Boothill makes during sex… good lord…

With those pointy teeth of his too? UGH his face is just too pretty. I cannot–

He is an absolute god when it comes to lapdances or strip teases

I need to write stripper Boothill headcannons or something 🥵

Anyways! Boothill is truly a wonderful sub all around. He's very good at following the rules and being a good boy, he's a lot of fun to play with, but he's also a great disobedient sub when you're both up for that too!

I haven't even talked about his genitals yet–

As written in the other Boothill request; I think he can use different attachments down there. He has a built-in hole, but he can switch it out with different hi-tech, fleshlight-like inserts

He can also use different dick attachments. Or, perhaps he could order something custom made? Such as a fleshlight with two holes? 👀

Basically, he can do whatever he wants down there. And/or make his partner's dreams come true

His 'cum' is artificial, but it works the same as regular semen. He can fill up a compartment with the substance and pump it through a cock attachment, or have it ooze out of any orifice

The attachments don't have any nerves until they attach to him though. Not unless you program some special ones…

So that you use one of his fleshlight inserts and it feels like he's getting fucked even though he's in the middle of combat 🥴

Give the cowboy a bj from miles away by sucking off one of his dick attachments… oouyhhdhkdjfk

On the topic of bjs, Boothill is excellent at giving you head

His gag reflex is non-existent, so you can fuck his throat all you like~

I also think he can be a bit of a size king sometimes

I want to get a massive, thick dildo and make Boothill sit on it and bounce on it until his circuits are fried 🥵

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

book 7 part 8 thoughts!!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 8 OF THE MAIN STORY!!*** Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that roughly unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

Right off the bat, we're starting off strong with a video presentation from Idia!! He uses many MMORPG terms and analogies to better explain his concepts, even referring to allies as "party members".

The video is ~3 minutes long and the artwork used are Takashi Mifune-sensei’s LINE stickers. Yana says she is particular about functionality like Idia is, so she is pleased that they were able to implement this video. “Please watch Idia’s debut as. YouTuber!”

AGKVTIUOD8VQFVE IDIA SHROUD ASKS US TO LIKE AND SUBSCRIBE IF WE LIKED HIS PRESENTATION....... . . .. ...... .. . . . . .. . . . . I'LL GIVE IT TO YOU, IDIA... You popped off on the editing fr...

Idia tells us that there the population of Sage’s Island is roughly 20,000!

He basically explains his plan to defeat Malleus. Idia's going to fuck around with stuff in his own dream to make cheat codes to debuff Malleus (ie remove his invincibility). The others shall distract Malleus so he doesn’t catch onto what Idia is up to. Yuu, Grim, Sebek, Silver, and Ortho will infiltrate the dream worlds of classmates, "wake" them, and then recruit them to their cause. They will then lure Malleus into Idia's dream, at which point all the recruited students will JUMP HIM 🤡 Truly, the power of friendship but the NRC way…

Idia grants everyone the ability to DREAM FORM CHANGE!! By saying that phrase, it opens up a menu where you can magically change your outfit in an instant. The NRC boys are becoming magical girls… ✨

akjlfabidfbefeqof Grim has fun changing into his various Anniversary outfits! Ceremonial Robes, Labwear, Apprentice Chef...!

Silver and co. hop into Epel's dream! (Idia keeps in touch with everyone via his tablet while he stays behind in his own dream.)

Everyone at NRC seems to speak in the same Harveston dialect as Epel. And, well... here's apple boy...

IS THAT EPEL’S HEAD ON JACk’S BODY????????!!!!!?!?!?!!!?!?

THIS IS LITERALLY THE BUFF NATSUKI DDLC MEME 😭 I MEAN I WAS KINDA EXPECTING THIS BUTNIT FLOOKS SO FURGINGNGGGF GS CURSED

Anyway, the group just casually walks up to Epel and tells him everything is a lie??? And when Epel's world starts to go all wibbly wobbly, a dream!Rook and dream!Vil show up to praise him. Rook says he has heard rumors that Savanaclaw wants to recruit Epel for their own dorm, while Vil praises Epel as being both strong and beautiful, a perfect fit for Pomefiore.

I like that the implication is that while Epel still has a desire to be in a "tough" dorm like Savanaclaw, this dialogue seems to also say that he now also finds value in Pomefiore. This is why dream!Rook and Vil are tugging Epel in opposite directions; his soul must like BOTH options. Further proof is that Epel is still a Pomefiore student in his dream, he is not in Savanaclaw. To keep him under the sleep, the dream is trying hard to appeal to both sides of Epel's wishes.

So we battle the fake Rook and Vil!! Then Epel's memories come flooding back to him; the cracking glass effect is so pretty and calls into mind a mirror shattering as Epel gains his lucidity.

(Rook and Vil get similar "glass breaking" scenes upon waking, so I'm only going to comment on Epel's here and leave it at that!)

Cut to black to explain the situation to Epel!

Ortho invites Epel to join their "party" in Idia's dream! Then I believe he uses Epel's dream data to project a hologram of buff!Epel to remain in the dream while Epel joins the gang to hop into the next dream.

Next up is Rook's dream, and--

YUP, THAT'S A YEEHAWING ROOK HUNT IF I'VE EVER SEEN ONE 💀 I thought for sure his in-game 2D model would have larger arms (like, at LEAST Leona-sized arms, if not Jack-sized)... I guess not though, because we cannot have nice things/j

I love the extra detail of the leaves being stuck in the brim of his hat!! dfhlbafbiapia and bro just walks around with a quiver of arrows and a bow strapped to his back at all times...

ahbfg8yoadf9pbaegpb ROOK JUST DROPEPD A FUCKING BOMBSHELL ON US???????? Apparently Vil is a student at RSA and is besties with Neige???????????? BRO'S HEAD IS FR WRITING OUT FANFIC ABOUT HIS TWO MOST BELOVED IDOLS HOLDING HANDS AND GIGGLING TOGETHER

Uhhhh long story short, Rook runs off to his room and we chase him. What we find is--

YEAH THIS IS ROOK'S ROOM??????? It's probably what is depicted in his Savanaclaw Dorm Uniform SSR too. Note the split bed and the completely different carpets in the SSR artwork.

AEBFYVQEVYOFBQB THE WAY THE ROOM IS PERFECTLY SPLIT DOWN THE CENTER AND IS JUST STACKED WITH MERCH (including Tsum Neiges and Vils????????!????!?!?!?!?!??!!!!)

Rook starts to chuckle menacingly and pops off about his hyperfixations to us???? Then he wrangles us all to sit down and watch DVDs with him for the next *checks notes* 5 HOURS?????? AM I READING THIS CORRECTLY????? Rook... HONEY... THE WORLD IS ABOUT TO END, WE DON'T HAVE TIME TO DO THIS...

We keep trying to talk to Rook, but he isn't quite waking up yet. So we have an aside with the gang and Epel suggests... RECREATING OUR VDC PERFORMANCE??????? ? ?? ????? He shows Silver, Sebek, Grim, and Ortho the dance moves and the show goes on!

Rook is lured to the VDC stage and we get a new Absolutely Beautiful rhythmic with our current squad! Unfortunately, the vocals are the same as book 5, so we do not get a new variation with Epel, Sebek, Silver, Ortho, and Grim singing.

I love Love LOOOOVE that Epel is the center here!! He took the initiative to suggest the idea as well as teach everyone, and now he's REALLY walking the talk by serving as the "leader" of the group.

Watching the NRC Tribe makes Rook's head hurt and he starts to remember...!!

Well, wouldja look at that... Here comes dream!Neige and RSA!Vil to distract Rook. They say they are inspired by the NRC performance and start to perform Everyone Yahoo! This entrances Rook, making our task of "waking" him all the more difficult.

aihfboyfpie LMAO THEY'RE SO DRAMATIC?????? Vil steps up to defend Neige, and Neige is all like, "Nooo, Vii-kun! If anything were to happen to you, I'd be crushed by sadness :((" ROOK... IS THIS WHAT YOUR MIND COMES UP WITH...

Rook points an arrow at them and cries about how he betrayed Epel... (AYO LIKE THE HUNTSMAN????) and now he has to destroy Vil and Neige, who are "proof" of his betrayal. It makes him cry even more because he can't think of harming them, even if it's just a dream...

Anyway, time to pummel the sparkly duo! You can see from the battle sprites that RSA students seem to use REAL ASS SWORDS to channel their magic instead of magical pens. Man... Imagine being handed a writing utensil and then glancing over at the next guy and seeing them holding an ACTUAL WEAPON.

If you look closely, you can tell that Neige and Vil's pommels, grips, and rain guards are slightly different. Apparently, every RSA student has a unique one? WOW, I feel like NRC got ripped off then??? Cuz only the dorm leaders get unique items or staves to channel their magic and everyone else has the same standard issue magical pen but with a different magestone color. The only exception to this for the average student seem to be Diasomnia kids, who have baton style magical pens in their dorm uniforms.

Rook fully awakens and we rinse and repeat what we did with Epel (cut to black to explain things to him, make a hologram Rook to leave behind, and invite him to join us).

The last part of the update has us venturing into Vil's dream.

OMG, WE'RE IN FAIREST CITY??? AT QUEEN'S FILM STUDIO???? We just visited this place in a recent event! What perfect timing... I see you, clever TWST devs!

I swear that Vil's outfits are getting worse with each new one I see him in, but that's probably just my fashion sensibilities clashing with his 💦 I thought from the initial silhouette that we would be getting a slightly older Vil to show us how his values have changed since book 6, in which Vil declares he is always beautiful no matter what. Him being older would truly drive that point home; I feel this was a missed opportunity but maybe it wasn’t possible because these dreams don’t seem to be taking place in the “future” but mostly center on the present or past? Something, something, magic limited to what can be imagined and maybe the magic can’t reach that far “ahead”?

aefyeyovfyvqvf HIS NEW HAIRSTYLE KINDA LOOKS LIKE CROWLEY'S, DOESN'T IT...

Here, Vil seems to be highly popular + considered fairest of them all. Additionally, a certain SOMEONE has been relegated to being his mere assistant (and uh, Vil is somewhat demanding of them):

VIL... THIS ISN'T HELPING YOU BEAT THE MEAN GIRL ALLEGATIONS, SWEETIE...

On a more serious note, I think this raises an interesting point about Vil’s character. Try as he might to get over his envy of Neige, it’s clearly still something so deep-rooted in Vil, right up to the end of booo 5. Now this element also permeates in his dream world. Neige “has” to be demoted in so Vil can stand on top—but is that really “fair” to Neige?? Is it truly Vil’s jealousy that informs the dream of this, and thus the dream is spinning this shallow, easy victory for Vil’s satisfaction??? Because the noble Vil I know of in book 5 wouldn’t consider this a real “win”. Very fascinating topic to ponder!

Vil has Neige toss us out, which Neige does. The dream is preemptively acting this time, with dream!Neige coming at us. We make a getaway and somehow whack the head of the announcer + have Rook usurp his role.

As Vil is walking down the red carpet, Rook announces the various sins that Vil has committed. Vil panics and demands that someone shut Rook up, but then he starts to realize things aren't quite right.

We try to intervene, but Neige gets in the way and ultimately Vil is pulled deeper into his own darkness. Everyone else plunges into the dark with Vil?? I was worried that we'd have another battle map segment but thankfully there was none!!

We're back in the VDC backstage hallway area and stumble across a horrifying sight. Neige is on the ground (next to an empty bottle of apple juice) and all Seven Dwarves are surrounding him and sobbing. Ortho runs a scan on his vitals and Neige... FLATLINES...

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?????? THAT VIL ACTUALLY INTENDED TO KILL NEIGE IN BOOK 5????? 💀 Dude... No wonder why Vil was feeling so guilty and screaming that his actions were so "ugly"...

Epel uses his UM to encase Neige in a magical glass coffin to keep him safe. Then they run out onto the VDC stage and hear the announcer declaring that NRC has won. Vil is there soaking up all the attention and praise until we confront him.

Just as he is starting to "awaken", the darkness comes back and Vil alone is taken.

What I find really adorable here is that both Epel and Rook rush to his side and try to pull Vil out of the darkness. They're... OFFERING THEIR HANDS... TO HELP HIM OUT OF THE MIRE... OFFERED HANDS... A MOTIF THAT HAS BEEN IN TWST SINCE THE PROLOGUE... 👁️

Vil finally faces off against his Phantom. Like Idia in the last update, Vil willingly assumes his OB form to do battle. These fights seem very symbolic in the grand scheme of things. Idia and now Vil, confronting the worst, most unsavory parts of themselves, their inner demons, and rising victorious, proving that they have become better people… It continues the little bits of character growth that we’ve been seeing in each of the past books!!

He rises from the darkness and joins up with everyone else after conquering the fight!! The update ends here.

Okay, there's a LOT to talk about????????

The highlight for me was definitely Idia's presentation. It was very fun to watch because of the slick editing and it was a silly way to lay out the plans. I appreciate that we get to see Idia's strengths on display here; he can get long-winded and throw in lots of eccentric gamer slang, but you can also see how quickly he's able to tailor a complex plan together while accounting for many variables. adfhlboafoiyebif I UNDERSTAND THE IDIA HYPE NOW, I UNDERSTAND IT ALL...

(Side note: I did not know where to insert this, so I'll do it at the end! BONUS POINTS TO IDIA FOR RIGHTFULLY CALLING MALLEUS SHALLOW 💀 because his understanding of constitutes as happiness truly IS shallow. Once again, Idia slays with his brutally real words...)

I already said my parts about Epel and Rook's dreams when they happened. It was great seeing how their characters have developed, especially Epel! I never much cared for him, but I really appreciate all that he has done this update.

This pretty much confirms that future updates will have us visiting every remaining classmate's dreams and "waking" them. Admittedly, I'm both excited and worried??? Because that's a TON to cram in, and I worry that not everyone will get proper screentime or development. On the other hand, I'm hype to see what their dreams are like and what other limited SSRs the game might throw at us.

I feel like with the reveal of Vil OBing to fight his Phantom/"inner demons", we'll get similar scenes with the other OB boys coming to terms with what they've done and where they can go from here. This... might lead into the highly desired and speculated about Overblot series of SSRs, which I theorize will be the limited SSRs for each of the OB boys. I'll definitely be keeping my eyes peeled for those, TWST... I wonder if we'll get a Neige card eventually too??? Since we did see his battle assets exist this time. Will Chenya get one too, assuming he comes in a futureHeartslabyul update??

Aaaaaah, next time... Scarabia... 🤡 I'm so hype for that, Scarabia is like my second favorite dorm next to Octavinelle!! (SPEAKING OF, WILL WE FINALLY GET EEL FORM CARDS FOR THE TWINS...)

I’m sliiiightly concerned for Silver because bro used his UM no less than, what? 4 or 5 times this update alone??? He used his UM to enter Yuu’s dream and then Sebek, Lilia, AND Idia’s. Presumably, he also has to use his UM no less than 13 more times (12 more for the remaining boys + 1 more time to return them all to Idia’s to ambush Malleus). And even worse, he has to transport an increasing number of people each time. HOW TF IS SILVER NOT OVERBLOTTING????! 😭

bxjsgwjwnwkcbjsbs This update was nonstop WTF moments sandwiched between genuinely heartfelt moments. It’s been really rewarding to follow along and see how the Pomefiore boys have changed since we first met them all the way back in late book 4, early book 5. Looking forward to seeing how the other boys play out!! (… Book 7 is fr about to be 200+ parts long 😭)

[jellllllo-bowl]

return to my roots (batfam x dcmk)

I want to express my gratitude to anyone who has interacted with my batfam x dcmk posts and may we have more contents of them ✨

yapping below

thinking about whether this should happen in the same universe, or would it be funnier if some of the bats were dunked into dcmk world due to idk the speed force

if it's the former then i want to lean into "batman is an urban legend" outside of gotham, and yeah, night baron x batman is a decently-sized ship in dcmk japan. the BO doesn't want anything to do with gotham.

if it's the latter then maybe only bruce tim and damian are affected because the others are in the same age range as 1/ victims; 2/ BO members; and i don't know yet how to factor them into dcmk. maybe duke and the girls can stay in magic kaito verse. they would have a lot of fun traveling around the world meeting borderline-meta magicians.

bruce tim and damian would still go out at night. somehow the cave connects a random cave in rural okuho to their original verse due to both of them being fictional places (im spewing bullshit)

increasingly intricate crimes keep happening despite their interventions (they manage to lower the mortality rate tho)

how fast can they crack the BO case and likewise, how fast can they figure out the others' identities? i think it depends on how long they can stay out of each other's way (not so long)

conan would make a horrifying robin. IN THE NAME OF JUSTICE *kicking a ball into your face with the force of a truck*

before figuring out his identity im sure there's a developing theory that he's related to the local equivalent of bruce wayne. strong sense of justice and ...kinda blue eyes? and a multitude of weird gadgets and oh, his documents are forged, his parents don't exist??? very suspicious. too bad he actually has healthy and loving parents.

[enteroctopusdarkysilis]

✨More Clones Brickheadz !✨

Since I acquired the Small Cody (40675), I found that there was an untapped mine. Why would they only make one ? Well. I don't have an answer to that, but I decided to take matters into my own one; so behold : 11 more. I went mostly for commanders here, but then I went a bit astray and so I added some captains to the mix.

In order, row by row :

Tukk (Not cannon but the colours are so beautiful)/Vaungh (died too soon-)/Rex (obviously)/Fordo (I did Rex, so I had to)

Gree/Doom/Thorn/Neyo

Bly/Cody/Fox/Wolffe

It was a really fun project, and I hope to do more of them in the future - maybe even phase 1s, some day~); supposedly not commanders because I did most of them (except Bacara, I know...The helmet was too tough).

And because I really like challenges, if you want to see another clone turned into one of these (Be it cannon or one of your ocs) feel free to send requests in my aksbox !)

Anyway this post is already far too long for anyone's dashboard, so closeups and details will be under the cut !

Let's start with the easy ones : Cody, Doom, Fox, Thorn

Obviously, Cody was easy, I just rebuilt the original one virtually - Nothing too hard. The printed pieces here are not the right ones, because Cody's are not available on STUDio yet, but the storm trooper ones were relatively similar, so I used these for most of these models. Of course, it means I'm lacking the sun bands, and a few other distinctive elements, but it works well enough for now.

Now, Doom is essentially a colour variation (minus a few antennas). I also used an old space piece, which has this big yellow arrow printed on it. I's not exactly what Doom has, but I feel like it's close enough for a first attempt.

Then, Fox is relatively similar to Doom, but with two DC-17s. I also moved the printed torso brick up to get that red line he has.

Thorn works in a similar way to Cody too, except I removed both accessories on the side of the helmet. I also added this tile with diagonal lines to figure the wings he has. One day I'll slap some real wings on there, but I haven't found the right image yet. I also gave him a Z-6, obviously. I really like it, so I might actually make that one physically, because the way it's build (with old binocular pieces) is pretty nice; although I doubt the pieces are available in black.

Moving on to two captains : Vaughn and Tukk !

Admittedly, not really that different either, except for one thing : I learnt to do custom prints now ! Yay ! Well, these are really basic : the blue line for Vaughn, and some trapezoids for Tukk's helmet (which are, indeed, not visible here - shame, I spent so long making these fit). The Ahsoka pattern was already in STUDio (because Ahsoka already has her own brickheadz, which I'll get my hands on someday~)

I must also add that having some cyan in this whole thing added some much needed colours in here, I'm grateful some people give their clones amazing colours (If somehow someone doesn't know who Tukk is, well just check High Ground Animation. Right now. It's really cool, trust me). Anyway.

As for design changes, I modified the faces slightly by adding 1x1 tiles, to allow for different colours variations on the face. It makes them look slightly blockier, but given the overall size of the head, it doesn't do much.

I also gave Vaughn a DC-15A. It's a bit messy, but it works out well enough. Past me forgot to render it, so here is a raw, in-software picture of it (from Fordo(s hand, but it's the same design for both) :

BARC helmets ? Wolffe, Fordo, Neyo

As I've been told, these look a bit wonky, and I'll admit its wasn't exactly easy, but in my defence, it's relatively hard to get such round shapes with bricks (lego cheated by adding the visor). Anyway, given that doing that with a printed piece was out of the question, I tried to replicate the filter's shape with actual bricks, and I used a printed piece which, technically, is Lando's moustache, but downward. I'd say it does the job relatively well.

I also added a rangefinder to Wolffe, which is a little big compared to everyone else's antennas, but It's still relatively to scale with the head itself. No custom prints for him (not sure where I would find the correct pattern images ?), but I've done it for Fordo and Neyo. Fordo obviously has his well deserved Jaig eyes (and who knew it would be that difficult to find a picture of that on internet ?), and Neyo has his symbol on the helmet, chest plate, and the shoulder not shown here.

The really tinkered ones : Gree, Bly, Rex :

Here, it was a matter of trials and errors to figure out just how to get the shapes right.

I actually started with Bly, by removing the previous visor and adding the macrobinoculars first, then I tried to shape the helmet around. Truth is, it doesn't make sense technically : the two separated parts of the helmet do not connected at all, if you remove the equipment. Luckily, no one has to know that.

Next is Gree. It took me some time to figure out how to properly get a round feel, but I feel like it's as good as I can make it like this. Colour-wise, it was surprisingly difficult to find how to balance the different shades of green, and equally hard was to figure out which silvery colour would render well in STUDio. The answer lied, as it always does, in Bionicle. Of course, none of these pieces exist in this colour, but it's not really my main problem (because none of the coloured printed pieces exist either).

Finally, Rex...He gave me some trouble, I have to admit. Firstly, the part-designing software decided to have some trouble with custom prints, which was problematic, because I simply couldn't do Rex without jaig eyes (and Fordo already had his). Then, I started with Gree's base and tried to go from there to fit Rex's custom helmet. I ended up using Boba Fett's printed visor piece for Rex, because these were all triangles. I also got rid of the printed chest piece and used some black plates to simulate the pouch he has; while also adding a a few more custom printed pieces for the arms and pauldron (barely visible, but they're here. I'm not entirely happy with it, but I don't see much other solutions than more and more custom prints, which isn't my goal, so it'll stay like that for now.

Anyway, that's way too much rambling for one post, so I'll just end by saying that next week I'll post an alt version of this whole build [here !], with some 'slight' colour alterations. Definitely nothing big.

[vinylmango]

On our own terms

Nicholas Alexander Chavez x famous!black!reader

Description: (y/n) is booked and busy, meanwhile fans and gossip pages alike are desperate for any information…or a continuation of part one.

Warnings: none

Part one TWO three four five

masterlist

———

nicholasalexanderchavez posted on their story!

(Y/n) posted on their story!

nicholasalexanderchavez

Liked by no1nacsupporter, (y/n), and 1,134,543 others

nicholasalexanderchavez hello New York 😮🤯🤩

user1 so deserved

user2 it’s such a flex that I can say I’ve been a fan since he was first on GH and none of you other fans can say that

> user3 i can say that

> user4 same…you aren’t that special

> user2 why can’t you just let me have this 😭

celebwatch that’s definitely (y/n)

> user5 she’s not even in that part of New York today. Her show is uptown.

nicholasgalitzine it’s the size of his ego 🥺

> nicholasalexanderchavez aww you’ve got jokes 🥺

> (y/n) i literally saw you on one that was bigger than that

> mrsgalitzine lol not (y/n) swooping in and eating you up

(y/n)andnicholas I’m keeping my page whether the rumors are true or not. Maybe I can manifest this relationship

> user6 where’s the relationship probability girl from tiktok when you need her

user7 where’s that delulu account lexiloo6? Kinda miss them lowkey

> lexiloo6 don’t worry I’m here and I’m just getting started😃 you thought there’d be a post he made without me commenting on it?

> user2 I respect your dedication

user8 every day I thank my grandmother for telling me to shut up and watch GH with her 🙂‍↕️

View more comments…

(y/n) post on their story!

celebritiesexposed

Tagged: nicholasalexanderchavez & (y/n)

Liked by nicchavezismine, user2, and 10,235 others

celebritiesexposed Actress/model (y/n) and her new mystery man were seen outside of an NYC restaurant last night. (Y/n) will be walking in multiple shows this NYFW. This comes just a couple of weeks after she revealed via her Instagram that she is in a relationship. Fans have begun speculating as to who could be with her. The running theory is actor Nicholas Chavez as both were recently in Italy at the same time. However, Nicholas Chavez has also revealed that he is in a relationship. Special thanks to our eagle-eyes fans! Keep sending in more spottings and pics. Leave your guess in the comments below of who you think the beautiful model is dating!

ilovenickchavez ooo they are not beating the allegations

celebriteagossip interesting…👀

user1 🍝🦞

> user2 LMAOOO

user2 good for her. they’d be really cute together

nicchavezismine it’s so obviously not (y/n). You guys are seriously grasping at straws. There’s no way he’d lower his standards that much

> (y/n)ismother I’m sure you would know about lowering standards since that’s the only way someone would ever take you out

> user3 🤭🤭💀

> user4 silent or silenced 💀

goddess(y/n) I hope this is real. He’s so much better than the other people (y/n) has dated in the past.

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(Y/n)fashion

Liked by (y/n), (y/n)loml, (y/n)ismother, and 12,000 others

(Y/n)fashion New pics of (y/n) from her first two shows at this year’s NYFW. She’s absolutely killing it 😍

user1 OMG SHE LIKED

user2 the things I would do if I looked like that

(Y/n) Thank you 😊🫶 I had so much fun

> (y/n)fashion OMG HIIII

(Y/n)loml literally almost forgot how to breathe

> liked by (y/n)

(Y/n)loml someone call an ambulance and it’s for me

(y/n)loml what’s it like to wake up and just be perfect?

user3 she’s booked and busy fr as she should be 💁‍♀️✨

user4 the fact that this is both the year of (y/n) and the year of Nicholas Chavez cannot be a coincidence. Thank you universe 🧎‍♀️‍➡️

View more comments…

anon_gossip

Tagged: (y/n) and nicholasalexanderchavez

Liked by deuxmoi, dailyceleb, and 36,422 others

anon_gossip After walking in two shows today, (y/n) was seen out and about in New York tonight with her mystery man. Both pics were snapped in different locations by two separate fans. Keep looking out guys! Can’t wait to see what else you’ll submit 🤭

user1 that definitely has to be Nicholas Chavez because who else could it be??

user2 where’s the body analysis guy from tiktok when you need him. Is the guy in the pics the same height?

user3 Nicholas is way broader than that guy in the pics. No way it’s him.

user4 idk maybe he didn’t get a pump in today?

> user5 I think it looks like him. The guy in the pics is muscular too

user6 (y/n) pleaseeeee can’t you speak on this yet?

> itswes lol

> user6 omg not (y/n)’s brother in the comments

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Taglist: [Dm me or comment if you want to be added!]

@hockeyboysarehot

[k-hotchoisan]

hi!! can i request a toxic “you were made for me” or “they’re trying to take you from me” smut with san? 🫦 head spinning knees bucking — also ur work is so amazing!! 🫶🏻

Oooooo okay this might be a little fun ✨

I usually don’t write toxic male leads but I’ve been a bit into the Saltburn rabbit hole, so Oliver has sort of activated a little obsession in me 🥳

Don’t worry, this work won’t contain too much weirdness I promise 😛

Enjoy. ❤️

angelholic

<san x fem!reader>

Synopsis: Well, if you haven’t realised it yet, then he’ll make you realise it soon enough.

Genres/warnings: smut, possessive/obsessed/calculating! San x clueless! Reader, jealousy, unprotected sex, it gets slightly rough, choking, pet name—“bunny”, dacryphilia, cream pies, corruption kink

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia

You watch as San fits on his black Angel wings over his half-assed costume, if you could even call it that. He’s just dressed in a white tank and black slacks, and in his own words “couldn’t be bothered”. You pout to yourself, thinking how lucky he is to have such a strong face card that he looked good in almost everything he puts on.

“Come here, bunny”, he gestures, once he fits the wings slightly better onto his back. You walk up to him, in your pretty little dress, ready for the mid summer party one of your friends has invited the both of you to. He pulls out a nice shade of pink lipstick in your collection, then his fingers graze your jaw gently before he tilts your chin upwards, unscrewing the cap with the tube in his mouth and swiping the wand onto your lips to transfer the pigment. Your heart races when he does that effortlessly, just like the way you met him for the first time at your campus library—trying to reach out for a book, and you felt his body heat radiating through the cold air conditioning, as he tilts the spine of the book and has it drop onto his big hands, before he hands it to you. He has that same look as he tells you to press your lips to transfer the pigment to your upper lips.

Now all you’re doing is staring at his lips, thinking to waste his efforts to smudge it his lips, his cock, whatever.

San has always been an attentive (and attractive) partner—it’s as if he’s always just a stone throw away from you, ensuring all your needs are met, showering you with endless affections. You couldn’t ask for anything better.

But throughout the relationship, you realise something—he’s clingy. Very clingy. Often times he would have his hands all over you if he could, as if it would be the very last time he would see you—his hands clasped around your waist, or arm, chest, wherever, before he suffocates you with kisses which inevitably most of the time ending up with his cock drilled in you. You find it nothing short of endearing though, even his best friends tell you that’s just the way San is.

When the both of you reach the huge mansion, you gawk at the size of the estate. San chuckles at the way your eyes widen, planting a soft kiss on your temple before he leads you by your hand to enter the mansion.

Upon entering, you scan the crowded hallway which contained a mix of both familiar and unfamiliar people, your grip tightening against San’s arm. Pricks of irritation bite San as he notices the amount of eyes on you, which he assumes that it could be due to the short summer dress you’re wearing.

He spots Mingi in the crowd and he approaches him. When Mingi notices the both of you, he whistles in approval.

“Damn, aren’t both of you stealing the show”, he teases after giving San a hug. San laughs in reply, entertaining Mingi.

“This reminds me of when the both of you got close after summer party Wooyoung threw”, Mingi reminisces as he takes a sip of his cup.

“Right. San was so out of it when I found him outside alone”, you giggled as San pouts at you.

“You definitely caught him at a funny time—pissed drunk and all”, Mingi teases as he takes a playful punch to the arm.

“Okay, listen, I like to pretend that I can take my alcohol alright? Not to mention, we already had met by then. We just got to know each other better”, San emphasises, pulling your waist closer to him as he nuzzles into your neck, making you squeal and Mingi roll his eyes.

You listen to their conversation, despite your wandering eyes. You eyes land on a classmate, and you tap San’s arm to get his attention. He immediately pauses and turns to you.

“Babe, I’ll catch up with you in a bit. I’m gonna say hi to my friends,” you say. San has a doubtful expression, but he nods and lets you slip away, turning back to Mingi and getting engrossed in conversation once again.

Ten minutes go by. Then twenty. The pricks San feels start to bother him, and he starts to wonder what’s taking you so long. His eyes drift across the room, in search of his partner.

His eyes land on you, giggling with a mixed gendered group of friends with a drink in your hand. Yunho has come by and has Mingi’s attention, so San excuses himself to walk over to you. His gaze pierces into you, as he watches the other male before you touch your shoulder as he laughs, and you entertain him, not bothering to swipe his hand away. San takes a sharp inhale, pushing past the people that crowded the area, drawing gazes by his sharp features.

You jump slightly when you feel a large arm curl around your waist. “Hey babe”, San whispers, planting a soft kiss on your temple before eyeing down the male individuals that stood before you.

“Are these your friends from your classes?”, San asks, giving them a nod with a bright smile plastered on his face. San has seen them before, around you, much to his dismay when he was sending you to your classes during your semesters, but he never bothered to get to know them.

“Yeah”, you reply, and you introduce them one by one to your boyfriend, with San extending his arm out with a smile, shaking each and every one of them, keeping their names in mind.

“So you’re the one dude who swept her off her feet by sharing an umbrella with her”, your male friend teases. You laugh in response, your hand covering your mouth as you do. San raises an eyebrow.

“Definitely sounds like fate—her umbrella breaking out of all days and suddenly San comes in to the rescue”, a female friend points out, chuckling as she sips on her drink. “That’s some k-drama type of bullshit. What’s your secret?”

“No clue. I think he probably fell from the sky or something”, you reply.

“You definitely caught some gazes when you were waltzing in with y/n, too”, another one chimes in, eyeing your partner. You roll your eyes playfully as you feel San squeeze your waist playfully.

“Then again, y/n had her fair share of stolen glances when she walked in too”, another male friend adds, admiring your dress, which has San clearing his throat in slight irritation. He stares daggers at your naive peer, who doesn’t seem to get the hint.

San is scrolling through his phone absentmindedly, while you’re seating on top of him being entertained by your friends. Your peers notice the way his arm never leaves your body, but obviously don’t realise how he’s subconsciously eavesdropping your messy conversations.

Between the playful banters and sneer remarks, his irritation continues to rise every time he hears you giggle at a male friend’s lame joke. San thinks to himself that said friend should shut up instead of running his mouth like that. San’s jokes would definitely make you laugh harder—no fuck that—he doesn’t even need to make an effort to make you giggle, and he scoffs at the thought, while hugging you tighter to his body.

A little later, he’s getting restless, and he shifts slightly, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Gonna take more drinks bunny. Wait for me here. Do you want anything?” You shake your head, standing up to let him go and he walks off.

“Fuck. He’s really such a catch”, your friend reiterates, giggling playfully behind her palm.

“He’s pretty clingy, don’t you think?” Another adds in, and you glance over at San’s tall and big frame, caught up with talking with Wooyoung.

You turn back to your friend. “Really? I know his friends told me before but I think that’s just part of his charm, it’s kind of cute.” Your friend only shrugs in response. You pause and think about it. San has never shown you any side of jealousy or anything. Most of the time he ends up kissing your shoulders with his hands around your waist—a habit you’re basically used to at this point.

What you don’t realise is the way San casting you side glances, his grip tightening against his cup as he watches your friends pull you closer to them, their hands feeling your bare arms up and one of your male friend even leaning in to whisper something in your ear, making your eyes widen as you hit them on the arm, how their knees are bumping a little too much onto yours.

“-San”, Wooyoung’s voice snaps his attention back. San glances at Wooyoung, who has a concerned look on his face. “You seem distracted. You okay?”

San only shrugs it off with a laugh. “Yeah. Just didn’t realise how close she is with those bunch of people”, he replies, his mind now wandering how to just remove you from the irritating friend group holding you hostage.

“That’s good, isn’t it? At least you don’t have to stay by her side for the most part. They seem nice.”

San cocks an eyebrow. “Oh do they? I feel like they’ve been kind of hogging her a little too much tonight”, he says, keeping his tone neutral, despite the obvious tint of venom that hides in his words.

Wooyoung seems to pick it up a little, but he doesn’t push nor question further, settled on observing San’s body language. He’s always known San to be a pretty generous person—giving more than taking, and that’s how he has been during the course of the relationship with you ever since.

At least, that’s what Wooyoung and the rest of his friend group had observed. He lets the thought go as he watches his best friend leave to claim you once more, before Hongjoong comes by to pull him out of his thoughts.

San is seeing red. He sees red the moment your male friend has his hand slapping on your leg as he leans forward, laughing along with you. His drink is dumped haphazardly into the sink as he storms over to you.

The only person that should make you laugh and swoon like that is him. The only person that should be touching you is him. The only person you should be giving attention to is him.

The group’s laughter fades as San’s frame looms over you. You glance up at him, and he looks like Angel with those wings and the chandelier lights casting down on him. You are almost enchanted.

San plasters a smile, with nothing sweet behind it as his fingers curl around your wrist, before he pulls you out of the chair. You cast your partner a confused glance before he drags you away with him. You turn back, mirroring the confused expressions your friends hold, only able to cast an apologetic look before you’re attention is back on San, who’s fingers are now interlocked with yours as he leads you up the stairs to the second floor.

He reaches to a random door, knocks before he simply pushes the door open without much thought, and has you splayed on the bed in seconds. You’re still in a state of confusion, your dress hiked up to your thighs.

“San, wha-“ he barely lets you finish your sentence before he cups your mouth, and the sinister glint in his eyes never falter. He looks at you with lust and something else that you cannot quite pinpoint. But in seconds, under his strong gaze, you feel yourself turning into putty in his hands, eyes darting desperately from his eyes to his mouth to his eyes again.

“Bunny”, his voice sounding like honey, although his next words are nothing but. “Don’t you think you forgot about me?”

You blink at his words, still trying to make sense of it. “N-no. Weren’t you behind me most of the time?” You start, squeezing your thighs at the way he’s staring down at you. You’ve never seen him look like this before.

“Feels like you did”, he feigns a pout, however the emotion devoid from his eyes. “Looked like you were having so much fun without me there-“

He crawls onto the bed, inching towards you, and you pull backwards, your heart pounding in your chest. Your words are trapped in your throat, your brain unable to formulate a response when San is staring you down like that.

“-giggling, letting your friends touch you up like that”, he spits. You cannot tell if he’s angry, because you see his erection pressing against the fabric of his slacks, which he pays no attention to.

“Don’t you feel back for neglecting me?” He asks, his glare now holding a tint of melancholy. He looks almost pleading. But you still shift backwards as he continues to trap you on the bed, crawling forward until he has you completely under him.

He suddenly stops. Then lowers himself to the flare of your sun dress, scrunching the fabric up past your thighs, revealing your soaked panties, the colour matching your dress. He glances back up at you to meet your gaze.

“I think you need a reminder who you belong to”, he mutters, loud enough for you to hear, tugging the waist band of your panties, and leaving it somewhere on the bed.

“Look at you. Haven’t done anything, yet you’ve soaked your pretty panties. Naughty.”

That does nothing but let a fresh coat of slick paint your pussy after spitting it out.

“San…” you pant, your fingers trembling as he pushes your dress up further, high enough for his lips to meet your pussy but low enough that you can’t see him right there.

You gasp when his tongue presses against your wet cunt. And the real hell starts when the begins flicking his tongue against your clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves over and over again, ignoring your cries to stop, if not, only going faster, holding your thighs open while he laps up all of your juices.

Your mind is completely blown as your cunt continues to build from the pleasure from San’s tongue. Your hands fly to tangle into San’s locks. There’s something so perverted about having your lover dressed up as an angel, lapping your pussy up like a starved individual, under your dress. It only drives you further to the edge.

Your orgasm is just dangling from you, building and building. Your breath heavy and shallow, whines and whimpers in begs for your partner to let you release.

Then a choked sob when he leaves you high and dry, your cunt so wet and pathetic now that the section beneath you is starting to stain with your arousal, your orgasm completely ripped from you.

“Baby. Please…”, you beg, your cunt wildly convulsing, begging for release that’s just trapped at the edge.

“Are you gonna behave for me, Bunny?” San simply asks, towering over you as he licks your arousal that coated his lips.

You nod, your thighs and arms twitching every few seconds, as you attempt to regulate your breathing.

Which all becomes completely useless when he plunges two fingers into your cunt so easily, and your thighs twitch from the overstimulation despite the lack of orgasm, a sobbed moan cracking from your lips as your eyes roll back. His fingers always stuffed you so full. Not enough, you think in your filthy head. Not enough.

“Answer me, bunny.” San hisses, intentionally missing the spongy spot he knows would break you in an instant.

You’re close to tears, forcing yourself to look up at the male with the angel wings before you.

“Yes. I’ll behave, Sannie”, you whimper.

San’s glaze softens slightly as he aims at your pretty little sensitive spot, his thumb rubbing your clit at the same time.

“That’s my good girl. Do you think you deserve to cum?” He asks, stroking your jaw, watching your expression completely fall apart as he teases you poor cunt with inconsistent rubs and fucks, and you’re back to the frustration.

“Please let me. I’ll let you do anything to me, please. I wanna cum. Wanna cum so bad”, you’re begging again, your fingers pressing against his arm, almost clawing at him. That seems to satisfy him for now, since he fucks your g-spot over and over with his fingers while making sure your clit doesn’t get neglected, and you’re crying as the knot in your stomach completely snaps, squirting and creaming all over your dress and the bedsheets beneath you as San ensures you ride your orgasm as long as you could. Your moans become sobs, you swear someone can hear you, but at that point, you were to blissed out in pleasure to care.

This has never happened in your relationship before.

You watch him with hooded lids as he slides his slacks off, leaving his cock to spring out proudly, angry and red.

San shifts and then has his cock right at your face. His fingers slide into your hair, grabbing a handful of it.

“Suck.”

There’s something sinful about getting your face fucked by San in Angel wings, which you cannot deny was turning you on so much that you’re growing dizzy, especially at the way he’s tugging your hair and stuffing your throat full of his cock. Your muffled moans as you try to accommodate his length only fails as you gag, the pool of precum and spit leaking past the corner of your lips and staining more of your dress.

San pulls out from your mouth. He’s not interested in cumming down your throat tonight. His cock is now even harder, covered in your spit and his precum.

He yanks your dress off, leaving you completely bare for him.

“Such a pretty view. My pretty bunny.” He admires your nudity before him, latching his tongue onto your collar bone, trailing down to your tits, as he gives both a nice suck and lets hickeys bloom all over chest and neck, leaving you shaking and whimpering in his wake.

He swiftly shifts positions, and you’re straddling his lap, as his fingers on your jaw pull you towards him, and he feels you melt into the passionate kiss. He drags his cock against your bare ass and back, and you whimper, wanting him to just fill you up right now.

“Need you to fuck me now. Can’t take it anymore”, you whimper, trying to slide his cock into your hole, but San holds your thighs still.

“You said you’d behave for me, right bunny?” San reminds you again, and you nod frantically.

He pulls you into a hug, letting your body weight press onto him as he angles his cock to your hole, pushing his girthy length in, letting your cries play in his ear as he stretches you out.

“Oh, bunny. Can’t you see that I’m made for you? Made to fuck this pretty little tight hole of yours”, San hums in your ear as he lifts you, watching your eyes completely roll back as his cock completely sinks in you. His fingers run along your thighs as he feels them twitch, before he looks back up at you.

He doesn’t need to say anything—you’re moving on your own, grinding, then bouncing on his cock, San’s pretty face contorting as you fuck his cock, and your mind completely blank as you let him fuck your insides. More cream starts forming on his cock as you lift your hips, only to slam down once more to engulf your pretty boy’s cock.

“You’re mine, bunny. No one can make you feel this good. No one can fuck you this good”, his voice barely processing in your head, not when he has his cock completely buried inside you, obliterating any ounce of rational thought left in you. You feel yourself clench around him, and a low groan emits from the male beneath you. He knows you’re close.

Yes. He’s right. You’re his, and only his. It fucks you up that no one is gonna make you feel this good. No one is gonna fuck your hole as perfectly as San. No one’s cock is as good as his.

San knows he’s ruined you for anyone else, and he hides that satisfaction with another thrust into your abused cunt, drawing out more broken moans from you.

“Gonna cum again…” you sob, your pussy fluttering once more as you let yourself go all over San’s cock. He only encourages you to keep going—to keep sucking him in as you continue to fall apart. It’s only seconds more before his high pitched moans follow, then warm cum filling you up all the way. You’re crying his name over and over, and San has his hands cupping your cheek, wiping your tears.

But he’s not done with you yet.

He gingerly carries you off him, watching your eyes widen as his cock pulls out of you, with San’s cum dribbling out of your pathetic hole. Your head hits the pillow and you relax a little, barely a few seconds before San slides his cock back into you from behind, displacing more of his cum with dirty wet squelches.

“You’re still so fucking tight even after letting me cum so much inside of you”, you feel him smirk at your ear. “Do you want another load, bunny?”

“More, please. I’ve been so good. I can take another”, you beg, so fucking out of it by then, so fucking cockdrunk. He has both his arms around you—one holding your hands back, the other curling around your neck, pretty much choking you out while he drives his cock in and out of you, watching you completely go dumb as the words that leave your mouth are complete incoherent moans. But he knows you feel so good.

“Such a good bunny. That’s my pretty girl”, San’s voice buzzes in your ear. Your third orgasm comes without much of a warning—like fireworks that burst beneath your eyelids, your vision blurring from the mind blowing pleasure. You’re pathetic—jerking helplessly as your orgasm overwhelms you on top of the overstimulation, creaming uncontrollably around San’s pulsing cock.

“Here’s your load, bunny. All for you”, San hums, his hips drilling into you mercilessly before he stills into you, his second load filling you up once more, his moans at your ear making your thighs tremble. It’s so much, but you hear yourself begging for him to just unload it all in you.

You don’t fucking understand how he’s able to release another full load into your tight pussy for the second time, but fuck, there’s no point thinking right now, not when your body is just buzzing from your high, and when he just bred you two fucking loads full.

Your strength dissipates, but you still find it in you to turn to face him, after he pulls out, letting the thick stream of cum dirty your inner thighs, to nuzzle against his chest as he draws gentle circles on your back with his warm fingertips.

His lips press gently onto the side of your head as he soothes your thighs, making sure you’re leaning into him as you attempt to fight the sleep.

The moment Choi San laid his eyes on you, it made something tick in him. He’s never felt this way before, and the more he finds himself thinking about you, the more he craves your presence, especially when you run over to his friend group—apparently you met Wooyoung first, and when you greet him with a bright smile, he feels his mind shut off.

And that was why he orchestrated his coincidental meet ups with you.

All of it.

He asked the librarian about you, and despite the fact she vaguely tells him that she doesn’t remember how you look like, the offhanded comment about who she thinks is you coming by from 2pm onwards on most Tuesdays was enough information to conjure an encounter with you.

He finds out the book you’re looking for, and shifts it at a higher section of the shelf, then swooping in to retrieve it for you when you’re evidently struggling to get it yourself. That already helps to plant something in your head, especially as a first meeting.

The party Wooyoung organised was a blast, even though you didn’t know everyone else there. You had left your group of acquaintances for some fresh air, and spotted a particular male hiccuping against the swing, away from the main party. Upon closer examination, it was indeed the male who had helped you with retrieving the book you wanted. His face is completely flushed, his fingers barely holding onto the beer can.

He seemed to notice your presence, his gaze locking onto yours.

“San, right?” You ask. San tilts his head.

“Who’s asking?”

You stifle a giggle.

“Me. I was just making sure.”

He returns a pretty tipsy smile. “Right. You’re y/n, aren’t you?” You nod in reply.

“No one’s sitting here. Don’t be shy”, he gestures. “The fresh air feels nice.”

“Are you drunk, San?” You ask, soaking in the redness of his face, how eyes are shutting slightly. Despite all that, he still looks dashing.

“Maybe? I don’t know. I can take at least three more shots, I swear”, he proclaims to no one in particular. It makes you laugh. San stares at you with a pout. You let your smile linger a little more, and decide to entertain his drunken shenanigans deep into the night as you take sips of your own drink, your knees bumping onto his from time to time. At one point, his head leans onto your shoulder, his face almost nuzzling into your neck in his drunken stupor, talking about the conspiracy theories he was adamant in believing, making you laugh and refute him despite the way he’s turning you more redder than he is.

As he inhales your intoxicating scent, his eyes are wide open, sober since the beginning you found him.

On another day, when he reads through the weather forecast stating that it’d shower through the day, he watches you leave your seat at the library to the washroom, before he walks over and rummages through your bag, snagging your umbrella, and breaking it before he drops it back into your bag, zipping it before he continues to lurk around the bookshelves.

Sure enough, it pours. He watches you hastily pull out your umbrella, only for it to snap and fall apart, and the sheer panic that floods your expression.

He would walk up beside you, pulling his umbrella open, before your eyes meet his.

“Hey, it’s you again”, he’d gleefully say. “You alright?” His eyes are inquisitive, as he stares at you struggle with your broken umbrella.

“Ah, San!” You greet quickly. “Yeah, I think my umbrella’s broken.…and it’s pouring so much too.”

“You wanna share? This umbrella’s big enough for the both of us”, he suggests, watching in amusement as you blink.

“I can’t possibly do that… I’m going back to the dorms”, you reply with furrowed eyebrows in guilt for troubling him.

“Great, I need to make a short trip to the convenience store nearby. It’s not a hassle, I promise”, he assures with a smile. “And this for that night. For accompanying me.”

Your cheeks flush, and you nod, walking under his umbrella with him. Through the walk, he asks about you, his arm around you to prevent you from getting drenched. You insist to repay him back, and he playfully asks for your number so you can treat him to a cup of coffee on another day

One thing led to another—it started with the random texts and plans to meet outside, which gradually turned more affectionate.

Soon, he had his lips pressed onto yours one night when the tension between the both of you snapped as he sheepishly tells you that he likes you on a windy autumn evening.

But of course, his obsession only grows. Now, he just needs to make sure he gets rid of people who get in between the both of you.

Well, he doesn’t need you to know all that, not when he already has you all for himself.

San looks down at you, heaving softly against his bare chest, curled up against him. His hand absentmindedly stroking your hair, his eyes trailing the trail of bites he had littered all over your neck, shoulder, and tits.

You’re his, his, his.

[bluesidez]

AHH CMON REQUESTS!! I know the inbox is flooded girl omg.

okay so as a request, i would really love to see a story where black, plus size reader and Miguel take on wedding planning. Reader is happy enjoying cake tastings, dress shopping, venue hunting etc. and groomzilla!miguel is trying to make everything perfect for her. It can be nsfw, but I trust you with whatever the vibe is! Love you down!! ✨✨✨✨

["It’s My Wife’s Day!"]

lab tester: @leoeloo 🩻

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!Reader, black!Reader, PlusSize!reader

summary: No one is going to stop Miguel's fiancé from having the best day of her life, not if Miguel has anything to do with it.

content warning: AAVE (YAY!), sorry to anyone named Elana or Finley, Miguel gets a little mean here (I tried to keep it reasonable but he’s giving Libra Diva DOWN), mentions of food, some cultural (traditional) things from both sides but nothing crazy, there is one scene that could be triggering for my fellow big girls (but it's handled with care I promise), 18+ at the end so MDNI, it's also pretty suggestive throughout

word count: 8,888k EXACTLY (there should be no mistakes for as long as I've been working on it....but hey)

a/n: AHHHH! I was so happy to receive this request! (You have also been very sweet to me since my very first fic and I really appreciate that!!!) I said on my blog that I really love all things weddings, so this was a super fun write. I just love imagining Miguel in this position of making sure that his girl has everything while the girl is in complete bliss. (The mom here was also heavily inspired by my own mom who is much more active than I am in terms of telling people off.) As per our DMs, I did sprinkle in a little GR!Mig mannerisms! And! I added him being super in love with reader…but that’s a given. I do hope you enjoy! Also, I LOVE YOU!

Miguel refers to reader as his wife constantly before they’re actually married.

Also a headcanon for Miguel here that isn’t said explicitly is that his Libra trait of indecisiveness is on at all times. 

Miguel could never forget the day you set his heart ablaze when you said those destined words:

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

He was over the moon. Weeks of him getting you to warm up to him, months of him chasing after you, years of him trying to show you that he’s the right one for you, and finally, your hand was adorned in the rock he’s been planning for you for eons. You were truly his lady, now and forever. 

The proposal was quiet and intimate, mostly because Miguel was a bit fearful you would say no, a seed of doubt growing the longer he waited. He steadily reminded you to get your nails done and paid for your hair appointments every now and then. Each time he thought he could do it, he chickened out. 

Then, one night under the stars after an unnecessary work event, his feelings just overloaded. 

You were so ethereal.

He remembers you laughing over something his drunk coworker had said, eyes sparkling as you retold the story. Your curls were parted to the side, earrings dangling past your jaw. Your legs were swinging over the edge of his trunk, not a care in the world as you talked with vigor. 

He thought that he couldn’t live without this. He couldn’t have a life without small moments like this with you. He couldn’t imagine a moment where you weren’t by his side. 

So, the words spilled out of him like water. He took your hands in his and poured his heart out. Finally, the ring box that had practically melted a shape into his thigh was being freed. 

You cried when you noticed what he was doing, emotions doing a complete 180. 

“No wonder you kept giving me extra money for my nails,” you let out a watery laugh as you leaned into him. 

Now, here you both were, almost a year later in the middle of wedding planning. 

The theme and colors were carefully handpicked, the venue was booked, and almost every week, the two of you had something to look forward to. 

Miguel was currently prepping ingredients for tonight’s dinner, listening as you chatted about your great wedding dress search of the day. 

“We stopped by one store, but the lady behind the desk immediately turned us down. I didn’t want to ruin such a good vibe, so I left it at that. Ma was ready to hurt her though.”

Miguel felt his nerves tighten at the news, “What?”

“Yeah, as soon as me and my entourage walked in, she ran up to us saying something about a short stock, but we knew she was lying-”

“What’s the name?”

You raise your eyebrows at his abruptness. 

“Miggy, it’s really ok. Don’t worry over this,” you got closer to him, taking his face into your hand. 

“I’m not. What’s the name?”

You pull his face down to yours, “Nuh uh. I’m not giving you the name. We said we weren’t going to be stressed out over this process, remember?” 

Miguel closed his eyes and brought his hands down your body, leaning his forehead against yours, “I remember.” He blew out a breath and squeezed your ass in hopes that it would help calm him down. 

“Good. Now, you stay right here and I’ll go get ready for dinner. I wanna tell you about this poor girl whose dad didn’t like a single thing she put on.”

You kiss him three times, the last kiss lingering a little longer with Miguel humming into your lips and lean back with a warm smile. Miguel’s hands clinged to you until you were too far to reach and you walked upstairs to change into your house clothes. 

Miguel stood next to the island, tapping his fingers against the granite with a tongue poking into his cheek. 

The dress shopping process was the one he was the least involved in, opting to be surprised on the day you walked down the aisle. You wouldn’t even let his family pitch in for the dress, saying something about running up your dad’s pockets. 

But how does a dress shop conveniently run out of dresses once his fiancé walks in?

Right as Miguel was considering googling every dress shop in the area, his phone buzzed to life. 

Just the person he wanted to hear from.

“Hello?” Miguel turned to toss some butter on a skillet, holding the phone between his shoulder and his ear.

“Miguel…”

He stopped in his tracks, knowing the exact tone of voice your mother was using. 

“What happened?”

“Today was so beautiful!”

“But?”

“But that one shop on James Street? Terrible.”

Miguel would have usually chuckled at the dramatics, but this situation was no laughing matter to him.  

“You should have seen the way the people in there turned they nose up at us! One lady was about to jump out of her skin. All of this for some of the ugliest dresses I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Miguel shifted his position and stood up straight, tossing minced garlic in the sizzling butter, “Did they say anything to you?” His hands were gripping the phone enough to leave indents on his skin.

“Other than telling us how she wouldn’t have anything we would like, no. She didn’t even want us taking a seat in the lobby.”

He moved to grab a pen and a notepad from the drawer, “Do you have the name of the shop?”

“Lady Love. They should call it Lady A Lie.”

Miguel smiled, thankful that he could count on his future mother-in-law to be his partner in crime specifically when it came to making sure that no one brought harm to you. The number one thing that he and your mom had in common was their need to spring into action.

“Thank you. She didn’t want to tell me anything.”

“Trust me, if she hadn’t begged me not to act a fool, I would have cussed that heifer out. She was so nasty and so rude. That ol’ cow.”

“They’ll have a notice from my lawyer by the morning.”

Your mother hummed, “Let me get my iPad out and get to rating they store. It was a bleach blonde butched buffoon named Elana at the front desk. She was the one giving my baby a hard time. Nobody in there was trying to stop her either.”

“I’ll remember that,” Miguel could hear you coming down the stairs, fuzzy slides creating a steady tempo against the floor. “Let me call you back later.”

“She must be coming back. Tell her to bring me back my shoes!”

Miguel chuckled, “Yes ma’am.”

You came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“Was that Ma?”

“Yeah,” Miguel reached to place some chicken on the hot skillet, satisfied with the simmered ingredients he added. “She said to give her those shoes back.”

“She’ll get them back! I’m using them right now. What else were you two talking about?”

Miguel turns down the boil of the pasta noodles, shoulders tensing, “She was telling me about Lady Love.”

You clicked your teeth, “I thought I told you not to worry about it.”

“I’m not!” He turned the chicken over while you grumbled into his back. “But she called me with very upsetting news. What am I but a good son? I had to listen.”

“You two are gonna work my nerves.”

“Don’t say that. We’re just not going to sit back and let someone disrespect you like that. What kind of man would I be if I just let somebody not treat you right and I have the means to stop it? So, please. Let me do this.”

You huffed and buried your face into his back, fingers pressing into his skin. His words shut you up. 

“Fine.” 

“Thank you, cariño. Now, can you get the salad and the wine out of the fridge? This is almost ready.”

“What are you making?”

“Marry Me Chicken and Pasta.”

“So funny.”

“Ah, I know. It must really work, huh?”

Miguel walked hand-in-hand with you down the fancy boutiques in the shopping district. 

You both had just gotten done wandering aimlessly as you waited for the cake-tasting appointment. Miguel had to be stopped multiple times from buying everything you complimented. 

He was extremely happy to see you giddy about the cake tasting. It was something you’ve been looking forward to since the day you both confirmed a wedding date. 

He’s studied your Pinterest boards heavily, the notifications dinging with every pin. He knows you want to go all out for the cake. Something large enough to feed both of your huge families and something grand enough to match the venue and the theme. 

He arranged for the best of the best to be trying out today and if that didn’t work, he’ll seek someone else. He’ll even bake the cake if he has to, although you’d push him out of the kitchen.

“I hope they have that Biscoff flavor. I heard it was really good,” you turn to him with a hopeful smile. 

Miguel smiled back at you, “I’m sure they will.”

He only lets go of your hand to hold the door open for you, eyes enjoying the view of your body in the flowy dress you were wearing. Earlier, he couldn’t stop kissing over the deep Queen Anne neckline of it, claiming that you smelled too good. You two almost didn’t make it out of the house on time.

“Hello! Welcome in!”

The bakery was bright and homey. The desserts on display were placed on light peach stands and risers and the smell of caramel and cinnamon was strong in the air. Square canvases covered the walls with cute paintings of some of the featured desserts.

“Miguel, look!”

You pull him over to some Miffy-shaped buns filled with different flavored custards. 

“That is too adorable to even eat.”

“But I do hope you’d still be willing to give it a taste!”

You both look up to the friendly face behind the counter. They were a lanky figure with a glitter tattoo of a unicorn cupcake planted on their arm and pink gauges in their ears 

“You two must be the future Mr. & Mrs. O’Hara. Lovely to meet you all.”

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” Miguel reached his hand out to give a firm shake. 

“My name is Finley and I’ll be assisting you all today. We have several beautiful flavors for you to try.”

Finely directed you both to a square table booth in the corner of the bakery. Miguel slid next to your right side in order to wrap his arm around with one hand and eat with the other. 

“Other than the standard Chocolate, Vanilla, Strawberry & Cream, Red Velvet, Marble, and ‘Wedding Cake’ flavors that we offer, the samples for you here include Tiramisu, Passionfruit, White Chocolate Raspberry, Lemon Blueberry, Cookies & Cream, aaaand Dulce de Leche!”

Miguel’s eyebrows went up, feeling skeptical but open. 

“Woah,” your eyes grew at the neat display of confections before you. “I’m so excited.”

 “I’ll be right over here if you guys need me. Enjoy!”

You picked up a fork and dug straight into the Strawberries & Cream.

“That is so freaking good,” you groan out, eyebrows scrunching. 

“Let me see,” Miguel turned to you with his mouth open, eyes full of mirth.

“Miguel, please.”

“What? It’s practice for the real deal.”

“When we’re the only ones in here?”

“It’s going to feel like an intimate moment just between us, no?”

You sigh, defeated. He doesn’t even budge when you shove a giant piece of cake in his mouth. He grabs your hand before you can retreat, licking slowly away at the leftover cream. 

He focuses on the golden fork, working in between the prongs. Time slows down as you watch the white icing disappear into his mouth. His eyelashes are long and pretty and his lips are plump and a little wet from his tongue. 

One more pass of the fork through his mouth and he’s looking up at you with the same fire from this morning. 

You clear your throat, “Is that how you’re going to eat the cake?”

“Something like that.”

You two slowly but surely make it through the rest of the flavors with you trying to stay unflustered and Miguel trying to up the ante. 

He’s grinning and chuckling at your ruffled state until you get to the Dulce de Leche cake. He harrumphs as you cut into it. 

“No, no, you wanna eat cake so bad, so eat it!”

“This isn’t the cake I was talking about-”

“I’m going to shove this fork so far down your throat if you even think of finishing those thoughts out loud.”

 “You know I love it when you get that way,” Miguel sighs and reaches to eat from the fork before you can say anything back. 

You wait in silence as you watch his face contort from disgusted to neutral to pleased. 

“It’s not that bad.”

“Yeah?”

“A little too sweet. Abuela wouldn’t like it.”

“Do you like it, though?”

He paused as he watched you take a bite. 

“Maybe.”

“Would you like it as our wedding cake?”

“No….”

You smirked at him, “But you want it as your groom’s cake?”

“…Yes.”

He looks so conflicted about it that you almost feel bad for him.

“Miguel it’s ok if you like it, no one is going hurt you. You know you have a sweet tooth.”

“It is really delicious, like eerily so. It’s not my favorite cake, though.”

“Oh? Was it the Cookies & Cream one?”

“Close.”

You look around the plate, confused as to how fruit flavors have anything to do with sandwich cookies. 

Miguel got closer to your ear, lips grazing the top, “My favorite is you.”

You push his face back with your hand while he grins into your palm. 

“I see you two lovebirds are enjoying everything,” Finley walks back over to the two of you. “Any standouts?”

Miguel lists off the ones you were enjoying the most with ease. 

“We also enjoyed this Dulce de Leche one but we decided it would be best for my cake but before we move on, do you have any Biscoff cake samples that we can try?”

“Of course, let me go get that for you.”

He looks back at you cheesing at him.

“You remembered!”

“Always.” 

Finley comes back with a small Biscoff bundt cake. 

“Now, unfortunately, we don’t offer this flavor for any tiered cakes.”

You took a bite and almost soared. The flavors were just the right mix of salty and sweet, some caramel coating the top. 

Miguel looked from you to Finley, “Can you just do it for one tier?”

“Um, I can ask my boss when she comes back-”

“You can leave her number with me. I would really love to talk with her face-to-face.”

“Y-yes sir.”

“Good,” Miguel reaches over to wipe some salt off of your lips. “My wife wants a pretty grand cake and she has some particular ideas. We want to be really involved in the process for the best result. No surprises.”

“Absolutely. Would you still want to place that order for the groom cake? We have a sale on toppers for them right now.”

They place a pamphlet on the counter with countless toppers of grooms in pure agony. Some are being dragged by their wives and others are running away. Miguel turns his lip up and moves his eyes to Finely without lifting his head up. 

“These are very tacky and senseless, so no. We’ll place the order for it at the same time as the main cake.”

Finely moves to remove the pamphlet, face red and eyes wet, “I apologize. A lot of the future husbands enjoy them.”

“Do I look like the other husbands that come through here?”

“N-no sir! Not at all.”

“Tell you what, give me your boss’s number and your business card. We’ll circle back. Thank you for today’s tasting.”

“L-let me at least give you some extra dessert before you leave. Free of charge!”

Miguel helps you stand as Finley hops around the store grabbing any and everything. 

“I really hope you consider choosing us for the wedding.”

“The wedding?”

“Your! Your wedding!”

“Hmph.”

Miguel grabs the box from Finley’s shaking hands and promptly leaves the store with you on his arm. You turn back to Finley with an apologetic look and a quiet sorry leaving your lips, though you’re sure they’re still shocked by Miguel’s behavior. 

“I’m going to set up more appointments. We need a backup cake,” he says as he guides you back to the car. 

“You loved those cakes and you scared that poor person to death.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just me eating these cakes. And those were some of the most horrible toppers I’ve seen yet. Who does that?” 

“You would be shocked to know that not every man is willing to celebrate and proudly love their partner.”

Miguel turned the car on and let the cool AC hit his face. 

“But, if you still want to look at more bakeries, we can. More cake for me.”

You turn his face to yours and kiss his lips gently. 

“Now what’s all this about eating me-flavored cake?”

He shifts the gear into reverse, “Let’s get home and you’ll find out.”

When you said you wanted creative and unique pre-wedding photoshoots, Miguel didn’t hesitate to make sure he could pull it together for you. Now he’s starting to regret it. 

You walked out into the studio apartment with an oversized button-down that looked like it could be his, some thigh-high stockings squeezing at your thick thighs, and some black lingerie peeking through the thin shirt material. Your makeup was simple but jaw-dropping with glossy lips and a lovely blush that brought out a glow to your skin. Your hair was in a blowout style, curls bouncing with every step closer to him.

This specific photographer that you had mentioned in awed passing was known for her eye for romantic detail. Her pictures truly captured the love between couples in raw form. When you showed Miguel the pictures on her website, he was quick to get in touch with her to set up a decent amount of photoshoots. What he didn’t expect was for her to have an influx of assistants and protégés to have wandering eyes. 

“Are you going to move the lights or are you going to keep gawking at my wife like an idiot?” 

The one assistant who clearly didn’t understand what Miguel’s death stares meant jumped at his voice and rushed to move things within the set, the entire back of his neck beet-red. 

“Baby, don’t be like that, he might just be nervous,” you slid your hands up his chest, straightening out his “work” shirt. “Don’t fuss at him.”

 “He should do his job then,” Miguel shifted his gaze from the scrambling boy to you, voice getting quieter as he peered down at your excited face. “You do look beautiful, though. Can’t blame him.”

“You like it?” There was a spark in your eye. It was something that Miguel knew all too well.

He glided his fingers down your back, feeling the heat of your skin through the shirt. Your eyes never left his lips as he drew closer. You could feel his breath covering your skin.

The flash of a strobe light caused you to jump.

“These are going to make such stunning outtakes,” Xina gasped as she moved her camera back up to her face again. “Sorry to scare you. Please continue this and we can do the original plan in a second.”

You laughed as Miguel pulled you even closer, pressing kisses against your neck to avoid ruining your makeup. 

The original idea of the shoot was to have Miguel look like he’s coming home from work and walking in on you dancing around in his clothes. The idea was cute, domestic, a little sexy, and true to life. While it wasn’t the set of photos going out with your wedding invitations, it was something fun for your socials. 

As the scene played out, Miguel didn’t expect you to open up your shirt even more as he came back through the entryway. It made for a nice expression when he looked up to see you passionately dancing around the couch. 

You urged him toward you with your finger, hips moving to the music blasting over the speakers Xina had behind the equipment. Miguel grinned and headed your way. 

With Xina’s direction, the both of you were able to get out lively photos as if it were just a normal day in the soon-to-be O’Hara home. 

By the time you all were finished, Miguel was only in a tucked-in tank top with his hair tossed and turned. You still looked perfect on his lap, grinning down at him as he mischievously bit his loose necktie that you placed on your shoulders.

“Perfect!” Xina smiled behind the camera. “Now, one little thing I like to do at the end of each shoot is have the couple face me with their faces together for one final picture.”

You kiss Miguel on the corner of his mouth and lay his tie on top of his head before turning to Xina. Miguel follows with a lazy grin on his face.

It would have all been so well if that same assistant wasn’t still staring at you like he’s never seen a beautiful woman before when Xina started to wrap up. 

He met Miguel’s eyes and almost turned blue in the face trying to look busy.

There were so many more photoshoots to go in the near future. He’s not sure how he’ll make it through the next ones without making a scene. 

“Miguel! The invitation samples are here,” you knocked on his office door, giddy with excitement.

Miguel rolls back from his desk, glasses perched on his nose, “C’mon, let me see.”

You stride eagerly to his seat and he’s waiting with the same energy, pulling you into his lap once you’re within arms reach. You make a noise of excitement as run your finger under the envelope flap. Miguel leans his head on your shoulder waiting to finally see the design you so meticulously planned. 

You slid the cardstock out, gasping as you saw the paperdoll drawings of you and Miguel on the page. The artists did a fantastic job of designing you both in such a stylistic, yet recognizable way. 

“Oh my god, look at the little outfits!”

You panned through the cut-out clothes, one with you all’s work outfits, another with casual outfits, and the last one with a wedding dress and a tux. You brought the papers up to cover your mouth as you laughed again. Miguel’s heart soared at the charming way you reacted. 

“Look! They even captured your cute nose right!”

“You love my nose, huh?”

“Stop,” you snicker as you pull out the last picture. It’s one from a more recent photoshoot with you both in formal, dressy attire with scissors and measuring tapes in your hands and paper hearts everywhere to match the paperdoll invitation. 

Miguel took the invitations from your hands, wanting to get a better look. It really was one of a kind, something you both would be able to look back fondly at. 

He ran his thumb across the words, really taking in the fact that you’ll be walking down the aisle right into his arms. He read the words once more. 

Save the date…

2025…

Miguel &…

“How the hell did they spell your name wrong?”

You looked up from the picture in your hand with a frown, “What?”

“We waited this long for samples and they spell your name fucking wrong.”

You read over the invitation again and let out a groan, “Of course. Let me call the company-”

“I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure? You looked busy when I knocked, I don’t want you to get sidetracked.”

“Making sure that my wife’s name is spelled correctly on our wedding invitations isn’t getting sidetracked. I’ll handle it.”

You felt your shoulders drop, a tension you didn’t realize you were carrying releasing from your body. 

“Thank you so much, baby,” you sent him the number with a small smile on your face. 

Miguel gave your lips a peck, “Anything for you. Don’t worry your head about it.”

You stood up to leave, but not before he gave your thighs a squeeze. 

When he was sure you rounded the corner, he immediately pressed the number, blowing slowly through his mouth. 

He was about to work his way to free invitations and a year's worth of service once he was finished. 

Miguel laughed at the video you sent him. You were practically glowing with the turquoise waves in the background and braids in your hair. A giant plumeria was tucked behind your ear and you held a big fruity drink in your hand. 

You were out on your bachelorette’s trip, enjoying the waves in the sand as you caught up with your bridesmaids. He hadn’t seen any annoyed texts yet, so he assumed that the trip was not falling to pieces. 

He could hear your friends in the background bickering about how they had to take your phone away sometimes to stop you from texting him. 

“She got a few more months of being a hoe!”

“Will you shut up?! I’m making a video.”

“It’s true, though! We’re about to go get drunk as fuck. Don’t worry, Miguel, we got her!”

You just rolled your eyes and smiled at their antics before the video ends.

The mood of the video contrasted your texts entirely. They really did get you drunk.

“i miss you alreadyyyyyy”

“I miss you too but you need to have fun”

“I’ll see you soon. I’ll be waiting for you at the airport in just a few days.”

“good”

“you better be waiting for me”

“i wont you”

“shit”

“want you”

“you and your dick”

“gonna sing to him”

“Him?”

“yeah him”

“he’s mine”

“gonna love on him”

“and you”

“miss you so baaaaad”

“the bed is empty without you :((((“

“I hope you remember all of this when you see me baby”

“my name is mrssss oharaaaa”

“idk who baby is”

“Ok well Mrs. O’Hara you need to go to sleep”

“i will go to sleep mr ohara”

“gonna dream of you”

“and my big dick”

“You do that”

“Send me a pic when you wake up”

The night could have ended perfectly. He knew you had fun and crashed safely in your room. There were no problems with the resort or the reservations. You were constantly flooding his phone with pictures without talking because of the “No Miguel” rule he was sure your friends set. 

Miguel wanted to close his eyes in peace. 

So when his assistant sent him the picture of one of the most crucial parts of your wedding, he could feel his neck tightening. He called Ben instantly.

“What the fuck am I looking at?”

“The broom! They had a lot of them at the store but this one was plain and white, so I feel like it’s perfect for the wedding.”

Miguel pinched his forehead in an attempt to keep his eyebrows from molding together, “Do you have a schedule for when you’re this stupid, or is it only reserved for me?”

Ben was silent for a second, “I don’t understand, I thought you said you needed a broom? Is that not what this is?”

“A broom to jump over Reily. For weddings. I told you to check with Jess about it because I knew you weren’t going to have the slightest idea what I was talking about. Imagine if I brought this home to my wife. She would be offended.”

“W-what’s the difference?”

He might find out the difference once Miguel hits him over the head with it. 

“I’m going to fire you.” 

Miguel wasn’t really. He was just so tired. 

“Return the broom. I’ll take care of this in the morning.”

Ben was stuttering and blubbering as Miguel smacked the red button. He needed to look at the pictures you sent again. He didn’t need to fall asleep in such a bad mood. 

Miguel was certain that if he were a celebrity, this would be the wedding of the century with the way the bill was racking up. 

Not that it really mattered, because it was his wife’s day. Anything you wanted, he was going to get it. 

You both agreed on a buffet-style dinner for the reception with different stations and servers to accommodate your huge families. 

Currently, you both were tasting the traditional foods that the caterer had to offer and it was looking less than desirable. 

The greens were a bit bland, the catfish was ok, and the mac & cheese was delicious. 

The pork was a bit dry, the wedding cookies could have been better, and the mole was missing something. 

“I think,” Miguel pushed his food around the plate. “It’s missing banana.”

“Really? I’ve never thought to add that before.”

“For future reference, it’ll really make the difference.”

You wiped your fingers above the plate, “I think this might be a sign to leave the traditional stuff to our dessert table. Some of these are great but I’m sure both of our families will be up in arms with complaints. And maybe this is for the better! Tradition is too on the nose.”

Miguel admires your positivity because this is probably the sixth caterer you both have tested out. 

“We know you’re popular from your page, so what is it that you’re most confident in?”

The woman before you all smiled, “Since you're both looking for a pretty ambitious spread, I think things like a pizza bar or build-your-own stations should be the way to go.”

Through another round of dishes, you and Miguel were amazed by the specialties that the chef had to offer from the customization to the endless amount of options.

After a long Q&A trial between the chef and Miguel:

“Do you have simpler options for the kiddos?”

“Is it possible to do this station and this station right next to each other?”

“Should I hire more help for you?”

“Do you sell this mac & cheese separately?”

“Can you try this mole one more time?”

You both settled on five different stations with food ranging from BBQ to fries to candy. No one will be able to say that they went home hungry.

“Are you satisfied?” you rub Miguel’s chest on the way out to the car.

“Completely. I think it’s going to be great.”

The big day was getting closer and closer with finalizations being made and arrangements galore. The cake flavors were chosen, your dress was being edited to perfection, makeup and hair appointments were already made, and Miguel’s suit was tailored like no other. The bridesmaids and groomsmen were all fitted, especially after Miguel’s constant trips to Lyla’s shop. He was there for nearly every snip, tuck, and seam.

The time was really winding down and you both could really feel that as you walked into the reception venue. 

Miguel woke up that day to a phone call claiming that the venue had been overbooked and was seeking him out to cancel his event. He’s never called people faster in his life. The threats that were made was not something he was proud of, but he’s glad he didn’t wake you up.

Now he has the pleasure of watching you glide around the tables in awe.

“Miguel! Look at the plates! The silverware! The centerpieces!”

It truly was magical watching your vision come to light. 

Miguel followed after you with a grin painting his lips, checking every table for faults. The wedding planner was also next to him, waiting with bated breath for direction from Miguel.

“This should be here,” Miguel pointed to a lone party favor in the middle of a plate.

The planner moves it with ease, used to Miguel’s demands at this point in the process. 

Miguel kept walking towards the tables closest to where you and he would be sitting. 

“I thought I said that these two weren’t supposed to be next to each other? We don’t have time for arguments that night,” Miguel picks up two placeholders. “I don’t want to have to carry our aunts out of here myself. Fix it.”

The wedding planner grabbed them and made a note on their clipboard.

“And where’s the centerpiece for our table?” Miguel checks his watch. “It was supposed to be here yesterday.”

“There was a delay in the flowers. They were the wrong shade, remember? They should be here first thing tomorrow morning, and we’ll have the final touches to it.”

“And you’ll have the pictures sent to me?”

“Of course.”

“Miguel!” you were on the other side of the hall by the dessert table. “The lights over here are shaped like hearts! How cute is that!”

Miguel’s arms unfolded, demeanor shifting as he watched you get excited by the different labels. His chest rose up and the scowl on his mouth disappeared. 

“You really love her.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“This is a toast to everyone who has been with us on this long, long journey.”

Your closest friends and family laughed at Miguel’s words. 

Who’s to say that Miguel essentially blacked out making sure that everyone walked down the aisle correctly just a few hours earlier? No one brave enough to bring it to his face.

“You guys have been here from the start. From the moment I decided to pursue this angel of a woman, you guys were right there cheering me on. Now we’re here years later about to take on one of the biggest days of our lives.”

The table was a mix of happiness and nostalgia, excitement and fondness.

“I can’t thank you all enough for being a part of our bridal party. I can’t even thank you guys enough for encouraging us as a couple. The love in this room truly knows no bounds.’

Miguel lifts his glass up with one hand and squeezes your hand with another.

“So here’s to the present and the future. To family and friends. To us, your future O’Hara’s.”

The table clinks their glasses together with a cheer, watching as Miguel kisses you with so much adoration. 

Tomorrow was going to be whimsical.

Today was starting out obnoxious. 

Anything that could go wrong was going wrong for Miguel.

First, woke up almost an hour late due to playing stupid games all night with his groomsmen. He would have preferred one my night with you before the “I do’s,” but apparently that was bad luck. Instead, he got an extensive game night with a couple of beers. Nothing to have him over the edge, but definitely something to make him feel like he was in college again.

Second, he couldn’t find his cufflinks that he had made specifically for this day. They were custom with your initials and your birthstone on them. The room looked like a whirlwind after he searched top to bottom only for Gabriel to have them the whole time and tell him almost forty minutes later. 

He wanted to strangle him.

“Miguel, I have the rings too. There’s no way you think that Peter B. is a better ringkeeper than I am.”

“If you lose them, I swear to god I’m going to-”

“Yeah, yeah. Death, Grim Ripper, stabbing, big whoop. Go calm down.”

Third, for some reason, Peter B. had Mayday in the hotel suite when the only children that were supposed to hit the aisle were his niece and your nephew. 

“Why is that baby here?” Miguel tried to keep his voice level because it’s not Mayday who ran in here, it was Peter who’s constantly doing what he wanted. She was walking around and chatting with the groomsmen who were kind enough to keep up her conversations. Four-year-olds had a lot to say.

“Ah, she’s just here until her grandma comes by to pick her up!”

“Peter, if I pass out before I see my wife today, you’re going to be the first reason.”

Lastly, when everything was finally settled and he was ready to go to the ceremony venue, Gabriel came running in and almost gave Miguel a heart attack. Something about you and crying and Miguel almost broke the door down trying to get out.

“Miguel, don’t look at her!” Gabriel ran after him as he made his way to your suite.

“I’m not, damn it, I just need to make sure she’s ok.”

He was on your floor in a flash, your friends waiting outside the door. 

“Where is she?”

“She’s inside. We calmed her down for the most part, but her aunt got up here somehow and started to talk shit.”

“Miguel, if Jess and her mom weren't able to remove her, it would have been bad. She kept saying things about how you’re being tricked. She kept telling her that she wasn’t worthy enough to be a bride.”

“What?” Miguel walked towards the door. “Let me in.”

“Let us make sure you can’t see her, first.”

“I really don’t give a-”

“Miguel.”

He turned to Gabriel who pushed his hands down in a pressing motion, “Ya relájate, yeah? She’s not going to be centered if you aren’t centered.” 

With that in mind, Miguel waited at the door until he was allowed in. Your friends said you were in the bathroom with the door cracked. He walked over and turned his back to the door, tapping in a light rhythm so as not to startle you.

“You ok, baby?”

He could hear your sniffles and it took everything within him not to take the hinges off the door just to get to you. 

“No, not really. I, I’m terrified.”

“Honestly, me too.”

The door moved a bit, and your voice sounded closer, “What if I’m not the woman you need?

He scoffed, “And what if I’m not the man you need?”

You were quiet for just a moment, “You are more than what any man has ever been for me. I don’t think there’s been even a day where I could fix my lips to say that I haven’t felt your love and your heart. You’re…you’re everything to me.”

“So how do you think I feel when someone has convinced you that you aren’t enough for me?” Miguel turned his head to the crack. “No woman has opened my eyes like you have. No person has stolen my heart and cared for it the way that you have. I can’t even begin to describe the ways in which you’ve changed me for the better. You are my world.”

“Miguel,” your voice was watery as you took a deep breath. 

“If you want to call this entire thing off and go to the Justice of the Peace, that’s fine with me. We can send our family straight to the reception. I don’t care, as long as I have you.”

“No, I want to still have this ceremony. I still want to present our love. I’m just overwhelmed right now.”

Miguel moves to slide his wrist through the door, “Give me your hand.”

You laugh as you take his hand in yours, careful not to lean on the door and smoosh it.

“You are worthy to me and this is only a new chapter in the foundation that we’ve built. No jealous aunt nor any other family member is taking what we have away. I chose you, you chose me, ok?”

“Ok,” you squeeze his hand as rubs the top of yours with his thumb. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Miguel’s heart was hammering in his chest like a hummingbird fluttering around nectar.

He stood at the end of the aisle with his one hand grasping one wrist and a knot in his throat. The seats were filled with waiting people, but he didn't think anyone was more ready than him. Gabriel had patted him on the back once he was down the aisle, now he stood with his daughter at his side making sure Miguel really didn’t pass out.

Miguel’s tunnel vision shifted as everyone got up to watch you come around the corner. Miguel’s breath stopped. 

You really were his world. 

Your smile was blinding as you stepped towards him, your father’s arm wrapped tightly around yours. The closer you got, the more Miguel could feel the air coming back into his lungs.

As he waited for your father to put your hands in his, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was so lucky, he couldn’t believe it. 

As he held his hands out, he had to will himself to relax. 

You stepped closer to him, your warm palms bringing life back to his. 

“You’re shaking.”

He looked to his hands and they did have a faint tremor to them, “I’m excited.”

With eyes for only each other, you both made it through your vows. Miguel damn near brought the audience to tears with his imagery of a lost younger version of himself and you finding him in his aimless pursuit of living. How you opened up to him like a waterfall behind thick vines. How you wrapped your arms around him. How you upgraded his life. 

You almost brought him to tears when you spoke about how he loved you. How he stood tall between all that was against you and guided you to better days. How he never went a day without showering you in some form of love, even when he was feeling like shit. How he made you want to grow old with him and walk through life together. 

To the shock of no one, you both said “I do” with ease, no objection to be heard. 

When he kissed you, the world stopped for only a second and came back down with the celebration from your guests. His hands on your jaw brought you closer to him and one swipe of the tongue before he pulled away had you excited for later. 

One more kiss and you both turned to the crowd ecstatically. The broom was placed in front of you both and with three taps on your hand you both took a huge jump over it. Your family and friends cheered even louder. 

Walking down the aisle to the doors, Miguel could actually pay attention to the crowd. So many people were smiling and wiping tears from their faces. It only solidified the love that he had for you. 

You both laugh as flower petals fill the air around you on the way to the car. 

It was really a joyous occasion. 

Miguel was so happy, he didn’t care what anyone else did.

Ok so, he did stop one of his baby cousins from sticking their entire head in the fondue machine, but other than that, he was so relieved.

The DJ announcing you two as Mr. & Mrs. Miguel O’Hara elevated his mood and the trip to the dance floor for the first dance had his spirits high. 

The two of you had a sexy number, with his hands barely leaving your hips and his fingers sliding up the slit of the sparkly dress you changed into. 

After that, it was hard for him to keep his hands off of you. He tried to distract himself with catching up with family, grabbing food from each station, having dance competitions, laying sleeping kids more comfortably in chairs, anything to stop himself from just dragging you to your reserved hotel room. 

When you two stood near the cake feeding each other bites with hearts in your eyes, he couldn’t help but to lean into your ear and whisper, “Still the second best flavor.”

You hit his chest with one hand and covered your cake-filled mouth with the other. 

By the time you drove off with ribbons and flowers trailing the back of the car, Miguel was practically buzzing getting you all to himself. 

He made that known by carrying you bridal style to the room without a care in the world and you laughing into his neck. 

You kissed his neck as he refused to let you, even for the elevator, “You’re so silly.”

“The better to make you laugh, Mrs. O’Hara.”

“I love it when you call me that. Say it again.”

“Mrs. O’Hara. My beautiful bride today, my beautiful wife for life.”

He passes through the door after you reach to scan the keycard. As soon as he closes it you’re on his face kissing all over. 

“My husband,” you say in between the passes of his lips against yours. “Mr. O’Hara. Will you put me down?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Then how will we finish off our night with a bang? C’mon, baby, I have a surprise for you.”

“Fine,” four more kisses and Miguel let you go. 

“Just go sit on the bed and I’ll be right back.”

Miguel laid his jacket on a chair and walked over to the bed. He started to unbutton his shirt carefully, not wanting to tear the expensive material. He slid his shoes off carefully too, sliding into the fluffy slippers the hotel provided. 

He would say he wishes he could have done more for tonight, but the two of you will be enjoying the fresh air of a foreign country in about two weeks time. 

He sat on the bed as he waited for you to come out of the bathroom. There was no telling what you had in store, and he can’t wait to find out. 

“Close your eyes!”

Miguel obeyed, curious as to what you had in store. He could hear the padding of your heels on the carpet getting closer. 

You took his hands and guided them to your ass and with muscle memory, he took a handful.

“I’m already sold,” he said, feeling some light fabric hit his wrists. 

You chuckled at his face, seeing his tongue poked out to the corner and his hands feeling and kneading your body. 

“Ok, open ‘em.”

Miguel parted his eyes to see you in beautiful white lingerie. A white open lace see-through babydoll set hugged your tits tight. Panning down, he could see your thin panty with the string pulled over your hips and the curve of your body on display. Going further down, on your left leg, there was a garter digging into your skin that read “Miguel’s Wife” in bold, red cursive letters. 

“You like it?”

Miguel looked up to you with a tinier veil adorning your hair.

“This garter might be the only thing that makes it out unscathed.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm hm,” he leans forward to plant kisses along the top of your chest, pulling your thick thighs around him. “We’re gonna get a complaint.”

“Good,” you raked your nails down his nape, earning a groan from Miguel as you continued to his back. “I want you to make love to me.”

You start to grind along him, feeling the bulge in his suit pants grow. Miguel hummed and started to remove your top. It looked gorgeous on you, but it was useless to him at the moment. Your skin was sparkling all the way down to your nipples and it only made Miguel want to devour you more. 

You gasp as he smacks your ass and hikes you up, his mouth latching onto your areola like it’s fruit from the chocolate fondue today. 

“I’ve been wanting this all night,” Miguel mumbles into your skin. “You looked so amazing today.”

“So did you,” you tilt his chin up to look at his face. “I saw you looking at me all night. You’re not very discreet.”

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

He got up with you in his arms and flipped you over, “Everybody there should know how I feel about you by now.”

You were a vision. Smooth skin contrasting with the stark white of the panty and garter, veil sprawled out behind you like a halo. Miguel bent down to kiss you again, truly in awe that this was who he had as a spouse. 

“I want you to know how I feel about you too,” you whisper against his lips. 

You guide his hand from your face to your breast to your panties. You part your legs, thighs shaking in anticipation. Miguel's eyes get wider as he sees your lips through the peek-a-boo hole of your underwear. One swipe and your essence is on his fingertips. 

Miguel brings his eyes back to you as he takes his fingers and brings it to his lips, sucking it off with a pop. 

You bite your lip watching him lick his fingers and unbuckle his pants. 

The air is tight and heated, with you open and waiting and Miguel watching and wanting. 

He leans back and pulls his pants down. You look down hoping to see a peek of what’s about to rock your world. 

At the sight of your name and “MIC” in bold black letters across the band you bust out in giggles. 

You sit up as he comes around to the side of the bed, “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“I’ll never forget it.”

You laugh even more when you see it up close.

“Help me take this off,” he turns around to show your name and “Husband” printed on the back.  

You lean into his back in a fit of giggles, shocked but giddy. 

“We really are soulmates,” you say as you pull the briefs by the leg. “Meant to be.”

Miguel turns back around, bending to slide your mouth with his, “Forever and ever.”

True to his word, it really felt like you were his favorite flavor with the amount of marks he left on your skin before he got back in between your legs. You were so wound tight that with one lick from your hole to your clit, you were already trapping his head there. 

Miguel hummed and hiked your hips up, mouth moving to kiss your lips as if he were making out with the ones on your face. It was absurd how loud it sounded. His tongue kept swirling along your walls while the tip of his nose rubbed against your clit. 

You didn’t know where to keep your hands, but it did look good with your ring dazzling on your finger as you brought your hands to his head buried deep in your pussy. 

“Don’t stop,” you cried as he started to nod his face along your flower. 

Just when you could feel yourself ride to the edge, he took his middle and ring finger and spread you open. You shouted his name as you felt the cool touch of the ring slide in and out alongside the heat of his tongue. 

You don’t remember when you came down, but you remember Miguel’s drenched face kissing along your shaking thighs. 

“No Dulce de Leche is beating that, Mrs. O’Hara,” he reached to pull the soaking lace off, careful not to move the garter. 

“C’mere,” you hold your hands out, wanting to feel him on you. “I’m glad you like it so much.”

Miguel groans into your mouth, grinding his dick along your wet folds. He finds your hands and intertwines his fingers with yours. 

“I love you,” he sighs into your mouth. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

One sweet session later, he had you on your stomach, back arched, and yelling into the pillows as he pounded into you. 

You could see stars as his hips smacked loudly against your ass. The headboard was knocking against the wall with every push. 

Miguel was really feeling the wedding attire as he had one hand gripping your veil by your back and the other pulling at garter. 

When you came around his cock, he was diving in right after, letting go into your sea. The shudders of you afterwards had him moving a little more and turning your face to the side to kiss your panting lips. 

By the time you two finished, you were sure the sun was soon to rise. 

Your hair was a mess, the veil was somewhere across the room, and you both were tangled up in the sheets. 

You laid your head on Miguel’s chest, content to listen to his heartbeat to lull you to sleep. He’s rubbing your arm and kissing the top of your head. 

“Thank you so much for stepping up and making this day so magical for me,” you look up at him. “Words can’t explain how appreciative I am.”

Miguel looked back at you, eyes warm, “I just want to see you smile. Thank you for giving me space to handle things.”

You pucker your lips and he reaches to comply. 

“Now, we need to get some sleep. Gotta regain some energy.”

“You’re absolutely right,” you say as you tilt your eyes down to the sheets. “Because I’ve got a show to put on when we wake up.”

Miguel just laughs as he pulls you onto his chest. 

The birds chirping were a nice background noise to you all’s slumber. 

I went through several episodes of Kitchen Nightmares in order to finish this. BUT! I am happy with the result. As always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT!

[wardenparker]

New Year's Surprise

Jack Daniels x plus size female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 18.7k Warnings: Cursing, alcohol, internalized fatphobia, self esteem issues, pining, meddlesome friends, unwanted attention from a male coworker, light spanking, praise, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, Jack likes being scratched up, reader is described as having fingernails long enough to scratch (no specific length given), the love is requited they're just idiots. Summary: Ginger has a plan to get you and Jack to admit you have feelings for each other. She did not anticipate just how well it would work... Notes: Happy almost New Year everyone! Enjoy a little more winter seasonal smut and fluff from us to you 🥂🍾✨

"You're sure it's not too much, Ging?" Turning in front of the full-length mirror in Ginger's apartment, you inspect the glittering black cocktail dress that your friend helped you pick out at the mall during all those after-Christmas sales she promised you that you would find something at. She was right, like she always is, but now that the dress is on you, you're wondering if you haven't made a mistake. If it's not too revealing, or too short, or too tight.

Whoever in HR came up with this insane Cowboys and Flappers theme for the company New Year's Eve party deserved to have their head examined. You're not the femme fatale agent that gets sent out to seduce men and collect their secrets. Few men out there in the world are ever really seduced by the chubby girl in any given scenario, but it did tend to make you invisible. Invisible women can slip in and out of buildings in literally any kind of uniform and get through security without ever being harassed, and that works to your advantage on almost every case. Unfortunately, it also means that for the five years you've been a Statesman agent, you've also been fairly invisible to the man you've developed feelings for.

It’s perfect.” No matter how many times Ginger Ale tells you that you are sexy just the way you are, that insecurity gets the best of you. “I’m telling you, you will have every eye in the place.”

“I doubt it.” You sigh in the mirror and smooth your hands over the sequined dress one more time. “But that’s okay. I don’t want every set of eyes…”

“I know what set of eyes you want on you.” Your taste in men is your own, and Ginger won’t fault you for it, but she wonders why Jack. “It might do the man good to know that he’s got competition.” You don’t believe her when she says that it’s more telling that Jack doesn’t hit on you, but it’s the truth.

“He doesn’t, though.” Shrugging, you turn away from the mirror and decide to just go on with the night. Wishing won’t make it real and Jack Daniels barely looks at you. Even though you’ve partnered on cases, spend time together in and out of the office, and are arguably friends in every true sense? You’ve always wanted more with him. The only person who knows is Ginger, though, and you prefer to keep it that way since Jack will never return your affection. “And that’s…it is what it is. Even if you’re the only person I dance with tonight, it’ll still be fun.”

“Wearing that dress?” Ginger snorts as she pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I’ll have the faith for both of us, how about that?” She knows that Jack won’t be able to resist you tonight, not when she’s lined up a few of the junior agents to dance with you already. It’s time that Jack settles down and finds some happiness, and what better time than the New Year?

******

While you easily could have had the party at Statesman considering the size of the grounds, Champ wouldn’t hear of it. He’s hosting the damn thing himself come hell or high water, in his favourite suit with his wife dressed to the 9’s in her flapper dress, and more caterers than you’ve ever seen in your life all making his early twentieth century coal baron’s mansion look as resplendent as the day it was built. The place is palatial, with a ballroom so big that the band he’s hired looks tiny in one corner despite being six-men strong. It’s music and liquor and appetizers passing by on trays when you and Ginger walk through the door, and you gasp at how nice it all looks.

“I know he does it every year,” you sigh to your best friend. “But the theme is always different and I swear somehow the house always looks better on new year’s.”

“Champ does know how to throw one hell of a party.” She agrees, snagging two glasses of champagne from a waiter as she walks by. Her own sleek flapper dress is a vivid purple, making her beautiful skin glow and for tonight, she’s wearing contacts. Her short hair is perfectly styled, a cap like illusion, highlighted with the crystal headband she’s picked. “To a New Year we will never forget.” She hands you one glass and adds, “or regret.”

“You’re certainly optimistic.” You flash her and grin and tap the rim of your glass against hers. “Finally going to talk to Alicia or is this just positive vibes?” It’s been two years since Ginger started crushing on the woman who supervises Statesman campus tours and visitor experience, but she hasn’t made a move yet. Being frozen in place with someone you care about is something the two of you have in common.

“Positive vibes.” She huffs, rolling her eyes and trying to change the subject. “Look! There’s Tequila!” She waves the younger agent over to where you are standing. “You made it! Didn’t think you were ever gonna get back from Brazil, or if you wanted to.” She adds with a grin.

“Those are two very different questions.” Tequila agrees with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. Did he have to come back? Sure. But did he want to leave the comfort and luxury of that beautiful woman’s bed? Not at all. “But I would not have missed dancing with you ladies for the world,” he adds with a wink. He’s very much in on Ginger’s plan, after all, and is looking forward to the fireworks it will bring.

You fluster slightly at his words, but Ginger knows that you don’t have your cap set on Tequila. You just don’t handle compliments well. “You’ll have to get in line.” Ginger warns him with a smirk. “As good as Rye looks tonight, every man in here is going to want a dance. After I dance with her first.”

“Well I reckon I’ll have to be second, then.” Tequila puts in a playful pout. “But only because I would never deny Miss Ginger Ale gettin to be first.” He smiles again and tips his hat, having opted to wear his best Stetson with an elegant Kingsman suit. “You don’t have to,” you insist, knowing Tequila always has more choices of dance and bedroom partners than he could ever feasibly make his way through. “I’m sure you have other people you want to dance with tonight.”

“No one important.” Tequila smirks as he drags his eyes up and down your outfit and whistles slowly. “And no one nearly as pretty.” He promises.

“Liar.” Though you roll your eyes at him, you don’t protest anymore than that. He’s your friend, after all. And if he wants to waste his time dancing with you, you’ll just enjoy it. Tequila’s a fantastic dancer, after all.

“Never lie to you, honey.” Tequila croons, taking your hand and lifting it to his lips. “Lie about what?” The voice comes from your left and all eyes swing that way.

“Jack!” Normally you know he’s coming. The smell of earthy, expensive cologne and the tap-click-shuffle of his boots on polished floors. The soft humming he gets up to when he’s pleased with himself, not quite melodic but endearing because it means he’s happy. But you sensed none of that just now, too caught up in the band playing and the fragrant flowers and the tickle of bubbly in your nose and throat. “Nothing. We were just talking about dancing…” He looks like a dream, and it makes you sick to your stomach and elated all at once. Another night of watching him fawn over every woman but you is what you’ve resigned yourself to putting up with, but it’s just rude of him to look so damn handsome in that black velvet double breasted suit and sleek black Stetson while he does it.

“Dancing, hum?” His eyes narrow slightly at the grip Tequila has on your hand and he wants to reach out and slap it away, but he just shoots everyone an easy grin. “Ready to cut a rug tonight, eh?”

"I guess so." The shyness that threatens to shoot straight through you is knocked off kilter by Ginger, who hoots in response. "She's got her dance card all filled up already, Whiskey. Should've gotten here earlier," she tells him with a smirk.

His mustache ticks, it’s the only change to his facial expression. “I’m sure Rye can squeeze me in.” His dark amber eyes slide over to you and swipe up and down your body. “Can’t you, sugar?”

"Of course." You'd throw over the whole goddamn list for him. Besides, you have no idea what Ginger could possibly mean by saying your 'card' is full. One dance with her and one with Tequila isn't a full anything. "Of course I can."

“Good. Then how about I refresh you ladies’ drinks?” Jack asks, slapping Tequila on the back a little rougher than necessary. “Come help me with that.”

"Sure." Tequila grunts, throwing you a confused expression like he can't figure out why the hell Jack needs help getting champagne when waiters with trays are everywhere, but he shoots Ginger a secret smirk before following Jack into the next room where the open bar is set up.

“Tonight will be perfect.” Ginger predicts with a smug grin as she watches the two men walk towards the open bar. .

“What the hell are you doin’, flirtin’ with Rye?” Jack’s easy grin falls away and his brows knit together as soon as his back is turned to you. “You know that girl ain’t your type.”

"I can't be nice to my friend?" Tequila asks, pretending to be positively aghast that Jack would suggest he's up to anything else. One hand ever goes to his chest with a dramatic gasp.

Jack’s eyes cut towards the other agent, a frown on his face. “It’s one goddamn thing to be nice, it’s another to flirt.”

"When did I flirt?" The younger agent counters, knowing full well that's what he was doing but not about to admit it because he wants to make Jack stew.

“You were flirtin’ the second you can outta your momma, but you gotta learn there’s certain girls you don’t do that shit with.” Jack growls, stopping in front of the bar and holding up two fingers. “Double 62 Triple Barreled.” He orders, wanting one of the rare whiskeys that Champ had broken out tonight. “And two champagnes.”

"Now, why is that, Jack?" Tequila hums, looking down at his friend. Jack isn't too much shorter than him, but just enough to annoy the older agent on occasion. "Why is Rye one of those girls?"

“Because…” that’s where his argument ends, because there’s not really a reason beyond his own feelings. “It’s…unprofessional.” He decides. “She’s an agent for Christ’s sake.”

Tequila snorts at this string of logic, accepting his drink from the pretty bartender with a wink and sliding a large bill into the tip glass on the bar top before looking back at Jack. "That's a load of horse shit and you know it, Daniels. You fucking know it."

He does know it, but he snatches his own drink up and rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He hates that his stomach twists and he wonders if you had been flirting back. Looking over his shoulder at where you are standing, he clenches his jaw at the tassels that are swaying every time you move. “Don’t get her damn hopes up.” He takes a sip of his whiskey. “We both know you ain’t gonna fuck her.”

"Nor does she want me to." This is gonna be a hell of a lot easier than he and Ginger thought, if Jack is always so fuckin wound up over you and he only just arrived for the night. "I ain't the one she has her eye on and everybody with eyes knows it."

Jack ignores that, huffing to himself as he tries to hid the fucking jealousy that curls in his gut at whoever you do have your eye on. Lucky son of a bitch. “No fuckin’ talkin’ to you, hardheaded S.O.B.” The champagne glasses are in front of him and he downs the rest of the drink to slap the crystal glass down and snatch up the flutes. Turning around without another word and stalking across the room towards you and Ginger.

It's only one room he has to cross, but by the time he gets there, Agent Brandy has sidled up beside you and Ginger and has his fingers ever so subtly on your elbow while bends his head and puts all his focus directly on you.

Halfway across the room, Jack jerks to a halt and growls, shaking his head as he resumes the walk and forces a moderately friendly smile on his face. “Didn’t think you’d be back from Korea, Don.” He interrupts as he arrives back at your group.

"Two days ago." Brandy flashes a smile in Jack's general direction but keeps his focus on you. "Glad I made it back in time, too. Champ throws a hell of a party."

His eye twitches but Jack nods. “Yeah he does. Shoulda brought that little gal you were seein’. Brandy. Brenda right? Or was it Bambi?” He shrugs. “Maybe all of them at once, knowin’ you.”

"Now don't be unkind, Jack." Brandy's eyes cut over to the older agent and Brandy offers what could be considered a modestly dramatic pout. "Or Rye might think the worst of me and throw me over for that dance I just got promised."

Jack seethes beneath the smile on his face. “Would hate for that to happen.” He lies, handing Ginger one of the glasses and then offers the other to you.

The glass is offered with a smile and you thank Jack, savoring even the tiniest moment of contact between brushing fingers as he hands it over. It's probably bordering on pathetic, how long you've carried this torch for Jack, and it seems like Ginger is really trying to encourage you tonight to come out of your shell tonight but you just don't know. As nice as everyone is being, it doesn't feel right. The only thing that feels right is when you're around Jack. It's just a damn shame that he doesn't feel the same.

It’s almost painful how the simple, innocent touch affects him. Now visceral his reaction is. Only the training that Statesman has given him keeps him from showing anything. “Well,” he hates to tear himself away, but he can’t be around you for too long. “I better go talk to Champ about some cases he wants worked tomorrow.” He offers.

"It's a party," you remind him, smile flickering as he steps back. Obviously the small touch that you'll be savoring for the rest of the night has had the opposite effect on him. But there's no need to show that. Not when it's fully expected that he doesn't want to be around you when there are plenty of other people to talk to and women to dance with. "Don't work too hard, okay?"

“Never do,” he nods at everyone and turns around and skedaddles over to Champ like his pants are on fire.

"Come on," Ginger loops her arm through yours and lends Brandy a smirk that you don't notice — you're too busy trying not to look after Jack. "Let's go dance, honey. The night is young and we are looking far too good not to show off."

Champ eyes Jack as he stops by his side. “Figured you’d have a gal in your arms by now.” He huffs as he reaches out to shake Jack’s hand. “Losing your touch?” Jack snorts. “When have I ever lost my touch?” He asks, pointedly refusing to look back over towards you. “Just surveying my prospects.”

"And how is Agent Rye this evening?" Champ doesn't even have to look to know that that's where Jack has just come from. He blew into the room so quickly that it's the only explanation for the fire in his heels.

“Don’t you start with me.” Jack groans, shaking Champ’s hand and huffing. “Far as I know, she’s dandy.”

"Why should I not start?" Champ knows damn well why not, but he enjoys riling up his friend. "Somebody beat me to the punch?"

“Every-goddamn-body here tonight is actin’ like they’ve never seen the woman in a dress.” He snorts, complaining about it even though he has already memorized the way the damned sequined dress clings to your curves and enhances them in ways that should be criminal. “It’s damned ridiculous and borderline workplace harassment.”

Smirking, Champ pours two glasses of his preferred Statesman 1972 Select, savoring the smoked cherry notes from that particular year. He hands one cut crystal glass over to Jack with his tongue set firmly in his cheek. "You know you'd be a hell of a lot less mad if you just asked the lady to dance your damn self."

The glare Jack cuts Champ is withering and he turns his head as he takes a sip, refusing to rebuff the remark. It seems like everyone is taking the piss with him tonight as Eggsy would say. (edited)

"She's allowed to have fun, ya know." Champ goes on, humming the thought as though the glare Jack just shot him wouldn't have struck a lesser man dead in his tracks. "Damn shame she hasn't set her cap on anyone. Big family dreams, that gal has. Always has. It'll be a damn shame when she finally decides to hang up her pistols and have a family, but I won't let her get farther than the training ring. Too good of an agent to just let her retire."

“Is there a point to your ramblings?” Jack grumbles. “Or are you just spouting shit tonight?”

"Do what I want in my own house." The older man chuckles heartily and claps Jack on one shoulder. "Got a couple of jobs to start the new year with. Come see me tomorrow and we'll figure out which one's yours."

He’s being dismissed and since Champ is also giving him hell, Jack quickly nods and walks off. Trying to walk around the ostentatious ballroom without looking at you. “Hello handsome.” A perfectly manicured hand drapes itself over his shoulder and the scent of gardenias and sandalwood fills his nostrils. “Tiffany.”

Like a bloodhound on a trail, you spot it from across the ballroom without even trying to. Twirling around with Ginger, your eyes catch sight of the gorgeous, skinny, leggy blonde who has let herself drape over Jack's side and you sigh. Deflate is probably the right word, but you remind yourself it was never going to happen anyway and just hold on to Ginger as the song comes to an end.

“What’s a tall, dark, handsome drink of water like you doin’ all by your lonesome?” She purrs, making him hide the wince he had at the put on accent of hers. She’s as southern as tofu and yet she tries to make it sound like she’s grown up around here. Still, she’s a distraction and the best part about it is that there’s no emotional strings. “Looks like I should be buyin’ you a drink, darlin’.”

"I wish you would," she puts on a too-high giggle and bats eyelashes heavy with mascara and augmented with false hairs. Laying it on thick, she pushes in even closer and lets her body fit against his with nothing left to the imagination.

Jack doesn’t feel anything but he paints a cocky smirk on his face as he turns to her. “Then let me go get something for you, what do you want, darlin’?”

“Champagne, of course,” she simpers, never once considering the fact that she’s at a party for a whiskey distillery. Hell, she hadn’t even dressed for the theme.

Tiffany hangs out at the bar Statesman regularly hangs out at. A groupie because she knows everyone there makes good money. He’d bet his bottom dollar she conned Scotch into bringing her.

“Some party.” Is her attempt at conversation, putting more effort into showing off her cleavage than completing sentences. “You distillery boys sure know how to treat your gals.”

“Of course we do.” Jack’s smile is wicked, but it’s a part of the persona he adopts when he is working a target, it’s not real. “Any gal of mine deserves to be treated right.”

“Is that an invitation?” She knows who Jack is. Knows the civilian job title he’s been at Statesman Distillery. Even if she knew what it was all a front for, she likely wouldn’t care. She might just try harder if she knew the real wealth being flung around between a lot of these people.

“Now sweetheart, I’m good for a night or two.” Jack drawls. “But I’ve got a lot of leavin’ left to do.” He hums, quoting the country song.

The pout on Tiffany’s face is both dramatic and pronounced, but seeing that he’s immovable in that point — and knowing his reputation — she makes a small sound of frustrated disgust before flouncing away. Apparently annoyed at having wasted her time on a line cowboy.

The huff that Jack lets out is one of pure relief. Happy that he won’t have to deal with her again for at least half the night. She might make her way back around depending on successful she is. It’s shameful to say, but most of the agents here have dallied with her, including Jack. However, he had only taken her home to satisfy a physical need. He slowly makes his way back to the bar to order another drink, not champagne.

His line of sight is unfortunate as he saunters back toward the open bar. Looking back out to the dance floor, he can see Tequila twirling you around and the two of you laughing as the younger man holds you close and mock-sings along with the band.

Jack’s frown is deep, furrowing his brow as he cuts his eyes away in a jealous huff.

It goes round and round like that for most of the night. One dance partner after the next sweeps you across the dance floor but never the partner you want. One beautiful woman after another sidles up to Jack and bats their eyelashes but none are the woman he actually wants at his side. It’s a three-ring-circus. A whirlwind. But you never seem to get close enough to each other to see that neither of you is actually having any fun.

It’s easy to have an arm around a woman, easy to smile and flirt. His eyes continuously find you on the dance floor. Ginger had been right apparently, you had a damn dance card that was slap full. He hisses under his breath, wondering how many of those men knew you bit your thumb when you were working out a problem or that your eyes changed to a lighter shade when you were feeling slightly bashful.

There isn’t a single night of your life where you’ve gotten this much attention from this many different men — or this many different people period — and while it’s fun in a whirlwind sort of way, you do find yourself clock-watching. Wondering why your fellow agents all seem to be paying you so many compliments tonight and why you sort of feel like Cinderella at the ball without a hint of the real Prince Charming, the closer it gets to midnight the more you’re thinking of just going home. The last thing you want is to glance across the ballroom at midnight and see Jack tangled up in a midnight kiss with some petite redhead or statuesque model with perfect curls. You’ll be happier skipping out early and being in your pjs with a book at midnight than you will be witnessing that.

It’s fucking infuriating to have so many people come between him and you. Every dang time he untangles himself to break in on your dance with some partner, Ginger, Tequila or Champ waylay him. He’s never had such a hard time getting to chat with you and it’s making him slowly unravel his temper. “Ah Jack, there you are.” He sighs and paints on a smile when Champ claps his back and shoves a drink in his hand. “Forgot to mention somethin’….” His eyes slide away from you laughing as you are spun around, bitter to be stonewalled again.

“Well if it ain’t the gol’dern Belle of the Ball.” The voice you hear behind you is the one person you were hoping to avoid tonight, and as you’ve just finished dancing with one of the guys from the technology department who you didn’t even think knew your name, there’s no escaping. Agent Vodka is one of those older men who doesn’t realize that James Bond is just a character and that no one drags that persona into their everyday life. He routinely ‘flirts’ with you like he’s bestowing you a huge goddamn favor for even looking in your direction, and you were genuinely hoping to avoid him tonight.

Vodka is handsome in a classical sense, some would say a silver fox, if he had a better attitude. As it stands, there’s a confused tilt to his Stetson adorned head and he rakes his eyes up and down your body in a very calculated gaze. “You musta cleaned up for hours. Getting ready for a good night.”

“Sure. I guess so.” You nod, tone polite but dismissive. Vodka has a tendency to interpret friendly as begging for hands to be put on you, and the last thing you want to do is encourage him. “Happy new year, Vodka.”

“Seems like Whiskey and I have been the only ones not with you tonight.” He intones, smirking slightly. “Guess you was savin’ the best for last, huh? Since Jack’s hangin’ all over the ladies, I’ll step in and claim this dance.” He doesn’t ask for permission, just stepping up to you and grabbing your waist.

“That’s really okay.” Reeling backward, Vodka is strong but your self-defense training is a hell of a lot better, and you twist in his grip to make sure he can’t get a solid hold on you no matter how hard he tries. “Appreciate the offer,” you huff, trying to push him away. “But I was just heading home.”

“Oh don’t be that way.” Vodka huffs and manages to pull you close. “Believe me, dancin’ ‘s just a prelude to what we can do later.”

“Which is exactly why I don’t want to dance with you.” You push back against him again, leveraging your elbow against his side to loosen his grip with a sharp shot to his liver. This has gone too far and is hovering on ruining the night — which has been fairly fun despite its lack of your favorite cowboy and coworker.

“Jack-“ Ginger doesn’t bother apologizing as she taps his shoulder and points out to the dance floor. “Why don’t you go save Rye?” She huffs.

At this point it’s obvious that it’s a struggle. People are giving you extra space on the dance floor as they realize what’s happening but for whatever godforsaken reason, no one has stepped in yet. Probably because they’re too shocked that Vodka has finally crossed the line into being physically inappropriate instead of just saying uncomfortable things.

“Sugar, I’m sorry I’m late for our dance.” Jack slaps his hand down on Vodka’s shoulder and digs his fingers into the fleshy muscle. Getting satisfaction from the immediate change in the man’s stance. “Don’t mind if I interrupt, do ya?” His tone is friendly, but there’s a warning woven in the words. Dark eyes turn towards you as you quickly step back from the other man’s grasp.

“Wouldn’t have thought you’d keep a dame waitin’.” Vodka mumbles, all sheepishness and apology now that he realizes he’s infringed on another man’s territory.

Jack doesn’t rip into the man like he wants to, everyone else is starting to relax and resume the party. “You probably need to lay off the liquor.” He tells the other agent, not really caring for the man either.

“You forget who we work for, Daniels?” Vodka huffs, giving Jack the stink eye. “Not like you go easy, either.”

“Last time I checked, I took no for an answer, Robbins.” Jack turns his back after letting Vodka go and sweeps you into his arms, effectively dismissing him.

The room damn near erupts into applause, chattering all around you erupting out of uncomfortable silence, but you don’t hear it. You don’t even see Tonic and Champ escorting Vodka out of the ballroom with the utmost immediacy so the dressing-down can be vocal and private. All you see is Jack, and all you hear is Jack. Even as quiet as he is, the huff he gives as he scoops you up and twirls you away speaks volumes. “Jack, you—you didn’t have to—” Of course, if he hadn’t, you’re not sure you could’ve gotten away so cleanly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t think a thing of it, sugar.” Although he has a few harsh words rolling around for everyone who didn’t step in. It’s like they were waiting for something. Alcohol’s done made their brains addled. “Although my own apologies for manhandling you to get you outta that sticky situation.” Even though he’s apologizing, he starts to lead you in a dance.

“I really don’t mind.” And that is the understatement of the goddamn year, as you instinctively melt against Jack the second he starts to move.

“Still…..” There’s finally a bit of happiness to the evening and he smirks down at you. “Now you can say your dance card has been filled.”

“Could’ve left Vodka off it completely,” you grumble lightly, but you still end up smiling. When Jack looks at you in almost any way you just light up from the inside. It’s instinctual.

“Don’t know what got into him.” Jack huffs, even though he’s saved you from encounters like that before.

“His namesake, most likely.” He had smelled like it, at least. A fact which added no charm whatsoever to your encounter. “Really, Jack. Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Jack nods. “Sugar, you know that I know you are a capable agent. You coulda mopped the floor with him, but I’ll always give you whatever help you need.”

“I prefer not to bring hand-to-hand combat to Champ’s front door if I can help it.” If you let yourself really chew on the fancy, you could imagine Jack as rescuing you like a knight in armor. Like you were his to protect. “Not sure how much he’d appreciate that, regardless of how capable I am.”

“I think you’d find Champ more forgivin’ than you think.” He snorts, reminding himself of his own major fuck up just a few years prior. Champ had forgiven him and allowed him to regain the trust and confidence that he had destroyed through his own bling grief and rage.

“Maybe.” Jack certainly knows your boss better than you do even after several years with the agency, so you’ll differ from him. “But I’m glad to not have to find out. And…” The rest of the thought gets swallowed, and you cut your eyes away from him in embarrassment. There are some things better left unsaid and normally you’re so good at keeping your mouth shut.

“And?” Jack frowns slightly, not liking that you are holding back with him. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

“It’s nothing,” you promise him, shaking your head and acting like it isn’t the biggest, most honest confession in the world from you that sets your cheeks on fire and makes you even more bashful around him. “I’m just…glad I got to dance with you. That’s all.”

“You didn’t think you were going to dance out the old year without ole Jack now, did ya?” He sounds pouty that you would even think that.

"Honestly?" Shrugging slightly even with one of his hands splayed across your back and the other holding yours tenderly against his chest, you wonder how ever you ever manage to keep a damn thing to yourself with him around when your mind just sort of seems to melt in his presence. "I was going to split and ring in the new year in my bed with the book I've been reading."

Jack frowns and shakes his head, not agreeing with your plans in the slightest. “Now that seems like a waste.” He draws. “Mighty fine night to spend readin’ a book. You should be doin’ other things.”

"Not a lot of other options to pick from," you mumble, trying to force your mind away from immediately conjuring the mental images and repeated daydreams of doing just about everything under the sun with — and to — him.

Jack wants to protest that, but the song starts to close out and you almost stop in your tracks. Obviously believing that he will end the dance now that Vodka is gone and the set is done. Instead of dropping your hands, he pulls you tighter against him. “Is that why you wore a dress like that, sugar? ‘Cause you didn’t have any options?”

"Ginger picked it out." Wrongly assuming it to be an indictment of the choice, you frown reflexively and wonder why he's still holding on to you. The trouble is over and the song is done. Shouldn't he be finding someone better to spend his time with? "I know it's...it's not right. Flapper dresses are designed for women who look the opposite of me. But she insisted on sticking to the theme."

“Opposite of you?” He makes a face of utter confusion. “What are you talkin’ ‘bout? Dress looks good, fits you.” Maybe you have a shit ton of pins in the dress? His sweet wife would always have to pin her dresses to get them to fit right. Nearly every night they went out, he was helping her pin it just so.

Skinny is what you meant, but instead of saying so you just chew your lip and shake your head. Voicing that out loud would really just cement the ruination of the night and you don't want to do that. "Never mind," you insist instead. "I'm glad you like it." Even if he's just saying it to be nice, which you're sure he is, it's still nice to hear.

There’s something bugging him about the way you continuously quit talking and get around what you mean. The next song starts to play and Jack moves to that slightly faster tempo. “No one’s breakin’ in yet, sugar. So I’m keepin’ you unless you need a break?”

"No." Not from him. You would never, ever ask for a break from him. "No, I'm good." In fact, you've been so distracted by the rescue that you haven't noticed midnight creeping ever-closer. "I don't want a break."

Jack smiles, not the cocky smirk he adopts or the charming playboy facade that he uses on women like Tiffany. This is a genuine smile, one that makes his dimple show with a flash of white teeth and the crow’s feet around his eyes appear. “Then let’s dance, sugar.”

Champ chuckles when he sidles up beside Ginger with a fresh glass of champagne for each of them and his wife on his other arm, all ready to lead the midnight countdown after this song is over. "Took all damn night," he laughs to his co-conspirator. "And ya had to pull out the big gun with Vodka. But look at 'em."

“Man huffed and puffed at being used.” Ginger rolls her eyes and curls her lip. “But I promised him the Antarctic assignment. It will seem like punishment to everyone else and apparently he’s romancing one of the scientists down there.” Personally, she doesn’t see why anyone would be romanced by Vodka, but to each their own.

"It's for a damn good cause." Champ stifles a guffaw and even his wife looks amused at the way everything went down. "Everybody deserves to be happy, don't they? Even Vodka." It earns another snort from the older man and he aims a smirk at Ginger. "So what's the plan from here, Ging?"

“If Jack will get off his ass, there should be a kiss at midnight.” Ginger grins. “And maybe, just maybe, the dumbass will realize that it’s okay to want her. She wants him too.”

"Of course she does." Everybody knows that. Everybody with eyes and sense in their head, anyway. "He's just been stuck in the whole of his own grief for far too damn long. It's about time he broke free. Which is exactly why I went along with this plan of yours."

“I’m glad you did. Jack’s felt so guilty about actually developing feelings for Rye that he’s convinced himself that it’s wrong to flirt with her.” She takes a sip of her champagne. “When he breaks, it’ll be entertaining.”

"Entertaining for all of us." Grinning, Champ holds his glass out to his partner in crime in salute. "I sure as hell hope it happens right here for all of us to see."

Unaware that he’s being plotted against, Jack continues to hold you in his arms, taking you around the dance floor and trying to keep from asking too many questions that would potentially ruin his easy relationship with you. “Have you had fun? Other than Vodka? Your feet have to be killin’ you, all the dances you’ve been movin’ to.”

“It’s alright, I’ll have a hot bath and soak them. Aside from the one little interruption, everything’s been so nice.” This is the best part, without a doubt. Attention from other people is a novelty, the compliments and laughter a kind change of pace. But any time spent with Jack will always out do any other experience.

“A nice hot soak and a drink is always good to unwind.” Jack hums. “If other activities aren’t available.” The comment is warm, almost suggestive as he twists you around and then pulls you close again, feeling your softness against him and enjoying it.

It’s the worst kind of gut punch, hearing a comment like that from Jack, and your eyes are downcast when you curl back into his arms. It’s too unkind to be deliberate, but at the same time it’s such a careless comment that you just want to scream. He would never be intentionally cruel to you but the flirtatious tone of the comment is too much. “Maybe I should’ve gone with Vodka, then.”

Jack stiffens, frowning immediately and his blood pressure rises in anger. “What the fuck?” He hisses, the moment making him grip you tighter, almost the point of hurting you. “Why- you?” He’s at a loss for words right now.

“Well it’s the only offer I’ve gotten in…a year? Maybe more?” You shrug dismissively but his grip on you doesn’t allow for it, making your tone turn even more bitter in the process. He doesn’t get to get mad about who offers when he has no interest in himself. “Definitely more than a year, now that I think about it.”

“That wasn’t a goddamn offer.” He snorts. “It was a cowboy playin’ grab ass when his partner wasn’t willing.” He reminds you, dark eyes flashing angrily. “Otherwise known as assault.”

“And yet it’s still the only time any man has looked at me twice in more than a calendar year,” you hit back, practically hissing under your breath as embarrassed tears sting at your eyes. “Nobody’s exactly lining up to spend time with the fat girl except tonight which is Ginger’s doing. I know it is.” (edited)

The two of you are hissing back and forth, so preoccupied with your emotions that neither one of you are aware of the fact that the countdown for midnight has begun. The crowd around you starts to chant down from ten but Jack's too busy growling at you in anger. "Why are you so fuckin' quick to insult every goddamn person who decided to dance with you?"

“Because I know I’m right.” The two of you have never once torn into each other like this and while it breaks you’re heart, you’re so angry that lashing out is happening by instinct. It hurts so much more to be doubted by him and you can’t even express why. It’s devastating. “Do you even know what assignments they give me, Jack?” You hiss back, not hearing the shouts around you. “The ones where they need someone to be invisible! If they need someone plain and ignorable, they come straight to me. Do you know how much that fucking hurts? Because I’m good at it and that’s even worse than them just assuming. I’m excellent at not being noticed. At not being desired. It’s my fucking superpower. So no, I don’t think for a second that any of these dances were genuine moments of interest or offers for literally anything else. Because why would they be?”

His heart breaks and he's simultaneously enraged that you view yourself that way. "Five! Four! Thr—" He reaches up and grabs the back of your neck to yank you forward so your nose is less than an inch from his own. "You want a goddamn offer?" He snarls, losing all sense of reason when it comes to you and ready to prove how wrong you are. "Here's your fuckin' offer." Without another word, he drags you forward to plaster his lips against yours in an angry kiss.

It should feel terrible. It should make you so angry you slap him. It should make you feel a hell of a lot of nasty things, but instead what you feel is the undeniable melting of your own self against him, finally getting the only thing you’ve wanted since the day this infuriating cowboy sauntered into your life. Jack is firm under your hands, burning hot and intoxicatingly inviting in the way he does not pull away. You must have gotten so mad you blacked out, because this is impossible.

When you don’t push him away, when you don’t slap him, Jack growls. Using the soft sigh that you give to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth with another groan as the cheers and sing of Auld Lang Syne happens all around the two of you.

Either you’ve burst a blood vessel from being so angry and ashamed or this is the best dream you’ve ever had. Jack wraps both of his arms tight around you and you cling to him, fists dig into the arm of his suit jacket and the hair on the nape of his neck as you silently beg this hallucination never to end. You can live and die in this moment and tell yourself that it was more than a dream. You can imagine this is exactly how fiercely Jack kisses when he really wants to. When he wants someone.

The kiss has turned from an angry mashing of his lips against yours to a passionate mingling of your breath and tongues. You whimper and his entire body tighten with need. Overriding the portion of his brain that is screaming that this is a bad idea, that he is bad for you and continuing to kiss you as everyone else has moved into dancing now.

Neither one of you has realized that his hat has been knocked off, or that he’s drawn you so close your back has bowed, or even that you’ve entirely given up on needing to breathe in order to never have to stop kissing him. Years of repressed desire and soul-crushingly unrequited love are just being poured into every second you spend drowning in this impossible fantasy.

“Well damn.” Champ chuckles from his position on the dance floor with his lovely wife. “Didn’t expect that long of a show. Boy don’t stop soon, he’s gonna devour her right there in the middle of the floor.”

“That’s what happens when you repress your feelings for six goddamn years,” Ginger snorts in amusement. “Should I go interrupt them?”

“No.” Champ decides with a shake of his silvery head. “Leave ‘em. Don’t want the boy to get spooked before he makes up his mind what’s gonna happen next.”

“And he will.” Ginger agrees with that completely. Jack spooks faster than a newborn foal.

“He would, where she’s concerned. Boy has his heart in it and he’s been fightin’ it.” Champ agrees as his wife chuckles. “He will figure it out.” She promises. “Rye won’t let him walk away from this with a smile and a handshake.”

“I think she’d rather die than let him go, at this rate.” The smile on Ginger’s face is soft. Glad that her friend is finally getting everything she — you — have ever wanted. It really is only oxygen that makes the two of you pull apart, panting for breath with fingers curled into each other’s flesh and clothes like you’re hanging on for dear life.

Jack’s eyes are dark and searching as he looks at you. Looking for the answer to a question and when he finds what he’s looking for, he grabs your hand and starts to drag you off the dance floor.

“Jack?” The realization that that really just happened ignites a small panic in your chest and a riot in your mind, and the fact that Jack hasn’t let go of you or run off in disgust is only confusing you more.

He doesn’t speak, he can’t speak right now. The people on the floor just seem to part, moving out of his way as he guides you off the floor. He does squeeze your hand though.

“Jack?” The longer he goes without saying anything the higher the panic rises, but you cling to his hand all the way to the front door of Champ’s house where the front room has been transformed into a coat closet.

Jack doesn’t answer and spins you around to press you up against the wall, kissing you again. “Get your fuckin’ coat.” He demands roughly.

It’s a much briefer kiss but it leaves you breathless all the same, and the determination in his eyes makes you shiver and rush to obey. If this is what you’re going to get with him — just a few demanding kisses before he decides it was a mistake and turns you away? Then you’ll take it.

His hat is missing, Jack realizes when he goes to readjust it and frowns. Patting his head and looking around to see if it fell off around here, but it’s nowhere in sight. It’s a small price to pay, but he runs his hand through his hair as you rush back to his side. “We’re leaving.”

He doesn’t seem angry, but for the life of you there is no version of tonight that goes any further. Not in your mind. A conversation about how you shouldn’t have kissed him — or at least kissed him back, since you have a dim memory of his hand pulling you to him right before your mind went blank — or at least about how it was a mistake is bound to follow.

The second your hand is in his again, Jack is dragging you through the doors and down the stairs of the house to his Bronco. He’s parked close, thank god and he can barely get the door open before he’s grabbing your waist and practically throwing you up into the seat.

It shouldn't be a thrill to be lifted up and tossed around as though you weigh next to nothing, but there is something in Jack's singular determination and focus that tells you not to question or fight it. If he wants to manhandle you a little before whatever uncomfortable confrontation is bound to happen? Well, it's not as though you haven't literally fantasized about that scenario. At least now you have a frame of reference.

He’s holding onto his control, barely. Racing around the front of the vehicle and jumping in beside you. He can’t even talk to you as he starts the engine. Thankful that his place isn’t too far away as he throws the Bronco into gear and slings gravel as he spins out.

The most surprising part might be that he reaches for your hand as he drives. His fingers curl through yours and hold onto you on top of the gear shift, not letting you do your usual thing of shifting away or curling in on yourself in uncertainty.

There’s only two miles left to go. He grunts as he slows down to make the turn and your hand moves the shifter with him, making sure that he doesn’t squeeze it too hard as he goes through the gears.

He's driving to his own house. You've done this route yourself more times than you can count for a thousand different reasons. The apartment that you rent with your ample Statesman salary is well on the other side of Louisville and Ginger lives closer to you than to Jack, so it's not like you have any doubt where he's headed. When he pulls the Bronco down his long and winding driveway toward the large farmhouse he's called home for a decade already, your hand tightens slightly in his, nervous and wondering what will come next.

When he cuts the engine, there’s a half a second before he opens the door. Almost speaking but he doesn’t. Instead, he’s climbing out to walk around the truck to open the door.

"I wish you would say something." Even if he's helping you out of the car and holding onto your hand, you can't figure out what's going on in his head. Not having any clue is making you a little panicky the longer it goes on.

Jack stops, two steps away from the path to the front door. “Do you want to come inside?” There’s a fear that you don’t want this. That you are not on the same page as he is.

He's not angry. Or upset anymore, that you can tell. But the determination in his gaze is still there for something that you can't quite put your finger on. "Yes," you decide, nodding as you step toward both him and the house. "I do." Whatever happens, you're hopeful it won't be bad.

You said yes. Your words spur him on again and he’s off like a shot, dragging you behind him. The biometric lock is a godsend. There’s no fumbling for a key at the door as he hustles you inside and slams it behind you both, pressing you against it as he attempts to devour your mouth once more.

This was not the reaction you expected. Not in any way. Not even when he had kissed you twice at Champ’s house before hauling you over to his place with the fires of hell scorching his toes. Anybody else might have read the signals, but not you. Not with the surprised squeal you let out or the soft moan that follows it — both completely outside of your control.

You’re alone now and this time, Jack doesn’t keep his hands on your waist. Both hands grab firm handfuls of your delightful round ass and squeezes as he presses into you. His painfully hard cock grinding into the soft pouches of your hips.

Because of the complete blanket of disbelief you're living under, it takes you longer than you're proud of or will ever admit to realize what is pressing against your hip. It's the first throbbing twitch from under his perfectly tailored suit that has your eyes flying open and both of your hands pressing firmly on his shoulders, breaking the kiss as you gasp in surprise.

“What- I thought-“ Jack’s frown is one of utter confusion as he drops his hands and steps back from you. Hating the feeling of rejection and suddenly wondering if he’s made a fucking fool of himself by getting twisted in knots by a woman who doesn’t actually want him. “‘m sorry.”

"Why?" The incredulous question is out of your mouth before you can stop it, and the confusion marring both of your faces makes you suck in a deep breath. "I—I just—I'm surprised," you admit, as damned foolish as that makes you sound. Fucking shocked is what you are, but you don't want to be labor the point and ruin whatever is happening.

He feels foolish and embarrassed, like he’s been caught with his hand in a candy jar. Reaching up and running his hand through his hair, he blows out a breath. “You said you wanted to come in.” He reasons. “I- what did you think would happen?”

"I—I don't know," you admit, feeling even more ridiculous than he does. Your back is still against his front door, crying out loud. "I ruled out you still being mad at me after you kissed me again but I didn't think..." Gesturing at him lamely, you blow out a breath and rub at the back of your neck. "I'm not saying I want to stop, I was just surprised." If this is the only chance you're going to get with him? You're going to take it and run with it as long as it lasts.

He frowns again, wondering how you could want him and yet be surprised when he wants to take you to bed. “So what do you want, sugar? Because I’m feeling like a penny at the bottom of a pan, rattled.”

The expression cracks the tension, at least for you, and an unexpectedly bright and beaming smile graces your lips as you reach for him boldly and find to your own delight and continued surprise that he doesn't draw away. "What I want is...a long shot." It's more than that, but you're downplaying your own fears to a rather extreme degree right now. Trying to be brave. "But...what are the odds you were thinkin' about taking me upstairs?"

“House odds.” Jack rasps out, knowing that the odds are always in the house’s favor when playing at a casino. “Pondered the idea of strippin’ you down right here and making you squeal against the door, but then tossin’ you over my shoulder and haulin’ you to my large, luxurious bed also has its merits.”

You genuinely have to shut your eyes to steady yourself, exhaling long and deep and praying you aren't actually moaning out loud like you are in your head. As it stands, both images he paints have your knees weak and your body shivering. "Eith—um—either one," you manage to stammer out, eyelashes parting so hesitantly that they flutter like wings. "Either one is good."

“Sexy as you look, sugar….” Now that he knows that you are on the same page as him, a little bit of the cocky swagger is back. “Thinkin’ it’d be a goddamn shame not to spread you out.” Despite your stature, Jack tucks his shoulder and scoops you up over his shoulder like you weigh nothing, bolting for the stairs.

"Holy hell, Jack!" A nervous shout and a squeak escape you when he picks you up, and you cling to his jacket as he carries you through the house you've visited innumerable times before.

Chuckling, Jack slaps your ass with his free hand as he ambles up the stairs easily. “Don’t be nervous, sugar, I won’t drop you.”

This time you definitely do moan out loud, too taken by surprise to stop the sound or swallow it before it can come out of your mouth and you know Jack heard.

He grins to himself, slapping your ass again and is rewarded with another moan. “Mmmmhm.” He chuckles. “Rye likes a little bit of light spanking. Noted.”

"Pretty sure I'll like anything you do," you admit ruefully, though you're quickly feeling the constraints of embarrassment fall away as he reaches his bedroom door. This is real. This is really happening.

"I'll keep that in mind when I hogtie you to the bed and lick whipped cream off your body." He teases, kicking open the slightly ajar door and striding into the room to toss you down on the bed like a character in a romance novel. Right now, he doesn't know if he's supposed to be the hero or the villain, feeling a bit like both as his rough handling of you as him immediately reaching for your ankles to pull off your shoes in his eagerness to see you naked in his bed.

“See?” You huff at him, heavy breathing coming from nothing but an undeniable surplus of desire. “That actually sounds sexy coming from you.” Everything does, but his quick fingers are divesting you of your shoes and that reminds you how your Spanx is part of this undressing process — which is the single least sexy thing in the world.

Jack rips off his tuxedo jacket and tosses it down on the floor. Climbing up onto the bed and over you to press against you fully, pinning you down to the bed with a groan. Quickly capturing your lips again in a frenzied kiss.

It makes no damn sense to you, but you’re not going to question it anymore. If Jack could have literally anyone in the world but for tonight he chooses you, then you’re just going to make sure he doesn’t regret it. That decision on your part sort of pulls you out of your nervous shock, and all at once your hands are pulling open his tie and fumbling with the buttons on his shirt with enthusiasm.

“There we go.” Jack groans when you stop acting shocked and start acting. Your hands on his body makes him shake and he can’t help but rock his hips forward. “Sugar.”

He could probably call you whatever he wanted and you would just go with it, but hearing him call you Sugar — that sickly sweet name he favors so much yet seems to bestow on you so rarely? It feels like you might melt so deeply into his plush mattress that you will never get up again.

Moving from your lips takes sheer willpower but he wants to explore more of you. One hand bracing on the bed and the other sliding up to squeeze your breast as he kisses down your chin and to the soft, vulnerable skin of your throat. “Driving me crazy, baby girl.” He coos, voice rough and lusty. “So goddamn pretty.”

No one who has ever met Jack would be surprised to learn how mouthy the cowboy is in bed. He’s mouthy in every other aspect of his life so frankly it would be pretty strange if this was the exception. Still, to hear those words said to you is beyond your wildest dreams. It’s surreal in the most sensational of ways. Even when you had dreamed of being with Jack, you had never dreamed of him praising you.

He groans when your fingernails bite into the skin on his chest as you hastily push the shirt opened. “Tigress, huh?” He growls, squeezing your tit again, a little harder this time and his hard cock pulses against your inner thigh. “Don’t worry, sugar. I’m just as goddamn eager as you. But ‘ole Jack likes a bit of wildness.” He bites down on your shoulder as he chuckles. “We’ll have ourselves one hell of a rodeo tonight.”

If you even knew where half this boldness came from, you might be a little embarrassed. But given the fact that you never thought this would happen, it mostly just feels like you're telling yourself not to waste the chance. Lightning never strikes the same place twice and this is your lightning strike, so you're going to lean into the whole thing if that's what he really wants. Your nails strike a path down his chest but get caught in his undershirt, a fact which makes you huff in frustration and search blindly for the hem to tear off that layer of clothing as well.

Jack groans and finally decides to give you what you want. Pulling back long enough to finish pulling his arms out of the shirt sleeves, he tears the undershirt off and throws it off the side of the bed to reveal his chest. Unable to resist pulling your dress down to pop your breast out and diving back down to wrap his mouth around a nipple.

"Oh fuck." It's a move you weren't expecting, but your back arches off the mattress instinctively to push your chest up and invite him to take and take and take — just as much as he wants to. If you were coherent enough to suggest it you would try to start wiggling out of your dress but as it is the only thing you can focus on is the heat of him surrounding you and the way every place he kisses you seems to catch on fire immediately at the press of his lips.

He suckles, bites and then licks the hard nub in his mouth like he’s gorging himself on you. Because he is. Hands searching for the zipper to your gorgeous dress. It’s beautiful, but it needs to be beautiful on his floor.

"If you want it off, you have to let me sit up," you manage to huff out, barely able to do more than pant at the way he's clearly trying to devour your tits first.

Groaning in protest, his lips are twisting in a pout as he pulls away. Panting breathlessly as he itches to launch himself at you again. “Hurry up, sugar.”

Your hands are shaking when you reach for the zipper, pulling it down and carefully undoing the clasp at the top before letting the heavily sequined cocktail dress slip off of your arms so you can maneuver it over your head. Half-naked in Jack's bed with panties so soaked you could probably wring them out is not how you expected to end this night, but here you are.

“Fuck.” Jack frowns at the tight shapewear he’s met with. “My present’s a little too wrapped for my liking, baby girl.” He hisses, curling his fingers under the layer to start stripping it off of you. “Want you naked.”

"It was the only way that dress was gonna look halfway decent," you mumble, shifting under him and definitely avoiding looking him in the face while he peels the Spanx off of you. It's a little bit too intimate even for the man you've wanted to be intimate with for years — to the point of making you feel completely naked even when you still have your bra and panties on.

He scoffs, nearly ready to whip his knife out and start slicing the material. “Bullshit.” He huffs, happy there’s just the bra and he uses two fingers to flick the four hooks open. “You don’t need nothin’.” Instead of explaining, he’s diving back into your tits while one hand dips into your panties.

“Fuck, Jack!” Instead of a tight reaction of shock, this time he’s rewarded with a moan and your legs falling open for him as the fingers of one hand dig through his thick hair to scratch along the base of his scalp. If he wants you to be bold, you’ll be bold. You’ll be whatever Jack wants as long as you just get to be in his bed for one night.

Jack moans against your tits, incredibly turned on by the pure moxy he’s always loved in you. Despite your utterly untrue view on yourself, you are sassy, sweet and sexy. That’s why he’s unable to resist now that he’s tasted you. Once he’s teased one breast enough, he switches to the other. “Gonna eat you up, sugar. Devour you whole.”

"All yours." It's sort of unintentional, the vow-like nature of the thing, but you're just being honest. You've really been Jack's since the day you met him. Even if it's taken so many damn years to get the two of you into this situation together, it's still the truth. "Whatever you want, handsome."

He groans, fingers sliding through the sweet slick that is covering your folds. “Want you.” He mumbles as he starts to slide his finger deeper, pressing against your entrance.

It's not even in your mind to ask why when he's splitting you open on two thick fingers like that, and you swear if that's how this night is starting you might actually ascend directly to some higher plain if you get to actual sex. "Ha—fuck— you have me."

“Mmmmmm.” He licks your nipple “Not yet.” He pouts, pulling his fingers back out of you to plunge them in again. “But I will, sugar. Cum for me and then I’ll have you like I’ve been dreamin’.”

The curse you groan out is nearly incoherent, more of an agreement than anything else but you'll be damned if you let this moment be anything less than memorable for both of you. Jack hovers over you and you wind your arms around him to encourage him to continue sucking on your tits while his fingers piston in and out of your pussy with determination. You know it won't take too much longer before your legs start to shake, and as if Jack knows it just as intuitively, he curls his fingers inside you and you gasp out a moan of his name.

His teeth nip at your sensitive flesh as he hisses. Feeling how tight your pussy squeezes his fingers and imagines his cock inside you. Tight and fucking scorching hot, just like he had imagined with his hand wrapped around his cock in the shower. “That’s it, pretty girl.” He coos before he sucks on your nipple again. Moaning when you arch up, writhing under him and making the prettiest, most desperate sounds he’s heard in a long time.

No one who has ever been in this bed has ever left it with any remaining doubts about Jack’s skills as a lover, and while you knew that before? Now you understand it oh-so-very deeply. His fingers pump into you mercilessly, curling at just the right angle to make you cry out in pleasure in every pass, and yet somehow he’s managed to keep the angle of that curl perfect while still holding them apart — stretching your eager pussy open and making sure you’re ready to take every inch of him. All of those intricacies combine with the dedication attention he is lavishing on your tits, and when the tense coil of restraint in your belly snaps it explodes into a thousand white-hot stars behind your eyes as you cum for him.

You’re gorgeous when you fall apart, just like he knew you would be. Keeping his fingers moving, he watches, enthralled with you as you cry out his name in a pitch that has his cock throbbing. The hot gush of your pleasure makes his fingers squelch inside you and he groans out your name while he starts to slow down the rhythm of his hand, letting you float down from your orgasm, drawing it out for you.

“Holy hell…” When your eyes open again you’re completely boneless beneath him, giggling softly at the light-as-air feeling in your body that never ever feels lighter than anything.

Dragging his wet fingers out of your cunt is his own personal kind of hell, but the urge to taste you is too great. Watching you with dark eyes as he slips his two fingers into his mouth with a lusty groan.

“Take your pants off.” The way you groan it is nearly an order but you definitely meant it to be begging, though at this point you don’t care. Especially when he arches an eyebrow at you and smirks. “Take your fucking pants off, Jack.”

Chuckling, he shuffles off the bed to oblige you. “Never let it be said I don’t follow orders, sugar.” He winks as he kicks off the tuxedo pants and hooks his fingers into his boxer briefs. “These too?”

“The fact that you even wear underwear is a shock,” you tease, motioning for him to continue stripping and trying — but probably not succeeding — to not stare.

He smirks. “Had to contain the beast for once.” He winks as he drags the tight material down. “Don’t wear ‘em normally.”

The Beast is probably as good a name as any, and you have to swallow a groan when he frees his throbbing cock — already damp with precum. It’s a wonder he can contain it, and you’re caught in between wanting to bend forward and taste him or just lying back for him to have his way with you. Curiosity and a curtain of lust win out on the short struggle, and you lean forward to take the purple head of his cock in your mouth just after he climbs back onto the bed.

“Fuck!” Jack moans out loudly and pushes your head away gently after a moment. “Baby, baby…” he pants. “You keep that up and this rodeo will be over before it starts.”

“Sorry…” Embarrassment burns your cheeks, and you shift back to get under his blankets. “I just had to know…”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Jack huffs. Kneeling on the bed and pulling the covers away as you hide your body away from his eyes. “Just don’t want to embarrass myself by blowing my load because of your pretty mouth before I can hear you scream my name.”

“I already have,” you remind him, a softness in your tone belied by the heat in both of your eyes. “Guess I might have to be a little louder this time.”

“Only if it’s right in my ear.” Jack wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it as he reaches for your thigh. “Buried deep inside that little cunt and feeling like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

It goes without saying that you’re both clean. All Statesman agents are required to have clean bills of health in order to be on the roster for missions and you’re both active agents. “I—have an IUD.” Is what you tell him instead, shivering a little at the reality of what is about to happen.

Eyes lighting up in delight, Jack’s lips curl up. “Oh sugar, it’s not my birthday yet, why are you showerin’ me with presents?” He coos, sliding his hand up and down your ample thigh. “Pretty as a damn picture.”

The real answer is that you’re desperate to feel him, but you just smirk instead, not wanting to get your heart more involved than it already is. “Because I don’t have a condom and I’ll be damned if we stop now because of it.”

“If you want me to get one…” Jack motions back to his pants. “I have one in my wallet.”

“I don’t want the barrier,” you admit, biting your lip at the extremely vulnerable nature of that confession. “If it’s okay with you.”

His smirk turns into a wicked grin. “You read my mind, sugar. I want to feel all of you.”

You could make a joke about how much of you there is to feel, but just this once you stifle the urge. Opting instead to reach out and gently cup Jack's cheeks in both of your hands before pressing a soft, earnest kiss to his lips. "Then what are you waiting for, Cowboy?”

As you lean back, Jack follows you. Climbing up your body and groaning as he settles between your thighs. “You want to cum again, pretty girl?”

"Not without you this time." The reality of Jack is better than anything you thought so far. Since this miracle is surely once in a lifetime, you want it to be as amazing as possible.

Jack groans your name, pressing his lips to yours in another hot, wet kiss. Passionate and consuming as he pushes an arm underneath you. “I’m right here with you.”

As impossible as it seems, he really is. He is right there with you, taking you in his arms and making you feel delicate and desirable for the first real time in your entire adult life.

He doesn’t rush, although he wants to. Every kiss is slow and thorough. Reaching down between you to take hold of himself to notch at your entrance. “Hold on, sugar. See if we can ride for longer than eight seconds.”

“I’m not gonna buck you, Jack.” You can promise him that, because you know damn well you’re going to hold onto this moment for dear life and not question the gift that it is. This one little shining moment is just for the two of you and you’re never going to forget a single second of it.

His eyes are watching, burning into yours as he starts to slowly rock his hips forward. Breaking you open with the first inch of his cock and swooping in to kiss you again when you gasp.

The world slows down, motions stretching into time and blending together in ways that you can’t quite wrap your head around so all you know in this moment is Jack. Every time he thrusts forward again your moans get that much deeper, until on the final experimental rock of his hips, he is seated fully inside you and you feel so spellbound and grateful for the moment that you’re all but sure you could cry. Instead you pour yourself into kissing him, rocking your own hips slightly to take him more comfortably and adjust to the weighty feeling of having him inside you.

“Fuck, baby girl.” Jack inhales sharply, stealing your breath as he tries to rein himself in, throbbing violently inside you. If it weren’t for the fact that he had promised you a rodeo, he would be cumming, overwhelmed by how hot and tight you are. You’re perfect, just like he always imagined. “You be a good girl and take my cock, m’kay?”

Good girl is another one of those sticking points for you just like getting your ass slapped, and if Jack had no idea before, he certainly does now, from the way your cunt just spasmed around his length and you moaned like you were coming all over again.

“Ohhhhhh.” Jack’s eyes nearly cross and he gives a particularly sharp thrust when you clamp down around him. “You like that.” He pants out. “You’re my good girl?”

“S’not fair,” you huff, throwing him a playful pout that gets cut by another shaky moan. “You’re finding all the buttons I like pushed way too easily.”

“You haven’t - fuck - figured out my buttons yet, sugar?” Jack ducks his head down and slides the arm not underneath you down your hip and thigh to pull it up higher. Sinking deeper into you with a moan of your name.

“Liking to have your cock sucked doesn’t—fuck!— count,” you tell him, back arching as he hits a new angle inside you.

He chuckles and licks at your pulse before he nips at your skin with his teeth. Fingers digging into your pillowy flesh and groans when you clench around him again.

Finding a rhythm is as easy as breathing. Being with him is so much more natural and intuitive than you dreamt it would be. Your natural tendency to be a little rougher is equaled by his enthusiasm for making the bedroom a loud and raucous experience. There’s no hiding from each other or demurring, not once you get going. It’s like something inside you has finally been unlocked after a lifetime of waiting — waiting for Jack to come along with the key that would open you up.

If it surprises Jack that you are wild in bed, it’s probably the best goddamn surprise he’s ever gotten. His back burns from the raking of your nails when he hits deep. He fucking loves it. Your wildness makes him go absolutely feral over you.

It’s the opposite of who you are in everyday life. A version of you just for him. A version of you that leaves your worries outside the circle of your bodies and embraces sex as something carefree. Which, if you’re honest, isn’t really how you’ve felt about sex with anyone besides Jack. (edited)

His lips and teeth map every inch that he can reach as he pumps in and out of you frantically. Trying to keep the pace hard and fast because every time your cunt clenches, his hips stutter from how fucking tight you are. “Fuck, my good girl.” He growls. “So fucking tight.”

“So fucking big,” you give back, starting to pant heavier and more unevenly. There’s a whine forming in the back of your throat that you can’t hold back and you bite down on the juncture of Jack’s shoulder as your legs threaten to shake all over again. You’re so close to cumming but you don’t want this to end.

Jack changes the tempo, slowing down and grinding his pelvis against your clit. “You gonna cum for me, baby girl?” He rasps out. “Cum on Jack’s big ‘ole cock and soak me?”

"So—oh, fuck—close, baby." The way you feel right now, you might actually fall apart at the seams when you cum again, but it will be worth it. It will be worth just knowing first hand how gorgeous Jack looks when he follows you over the edge. "Don't stop. Don't fucking stop, Jack."

“Never.” Jack growls, smashing his teeth together and hissing at the way you claw and writhe under him. It’s like taming a feral cat in a pillowcase and he loves it. Your thighs are crushing his hips and all he can do is imagine them around his head. “Cum for me.”

A half dozen thrusts later, your cunt is clenching down on his cock and pulsing with a fierce orgasm that has your thighs tensing at his waist and your back bowing off the bed. Everything seems to be happening at the top of however it possibly could, and that includes the way you cry his name into the night before collapsing back into his sheets with your arms and legs still around him, willing him to follow you to bliss.

Jack moans your name, pants it again against your lips. His brow knitted in concentration as he tries to last. His body tightening and tensing as his pleasure builds to that almost painful precipice. His heart pounding, but not because of the physical exertion, but because of the almost loving look on your eyes. “Love you.” He moans, right as his lips crash against yours and he breathes it into your mouth again. “Love you.”

You freeze under him, but Jack is too caught in his bliss to tell. Like a bucket of water has been splashed over the bubble of this night and popped that shell keeping you separate from the world. Did he just...? There's no way. There's just absolutely no way at all. You must have imagined it. Wished for it so desperately that you hallucinated the words. Because otherwise you're not quite sure what you'll do — because Jack has never lied to you. But he's also never given you any reason to think your feelings might be requited.

Caught up in his orgasm, Jack rides wave after wave of complete bliss as he empties himself into you, metaphorically and physically. Giving you every bit of himself as he finally acknowledges the truth of why he has always kept you at arms length. His love for you terrifying him, but right now, he’s flying. Collapsing into your arms and panting out your name as he catches his breath.

There's nothing you can do with this shock except bury it, holding him and gently stroking his hair while he catches his breath with his head on your chest. You imagined it, you remind yourself silently, blinking back tears at how much you wish it was true.

The whiskey, the emotions and the exertion have Jack cuddly and sleepy as he comes down from his orgasm. “Fuck, baby girl.” He hums, kissing your neck as he slowly pulls out of you and shifts to your side to roll you over with him. “Wore me out.” He chuckles. “But gave a hell of a ride.”

He tucks you into his arms to be his little spoon, not letting you get away for even a second. Any other time? This would have been thrilling. "Get some sleep, baby." Returning the pet name seems innocent enough, and you reach back to run your fingers through his hair gently. "You earned it."

His eyes are closed when he shoots you a sleepy grin. “Talk when we wake up, sugar.” He promises, fingers stroking your skin softly.

That promise might be why you sleep so fitfully in the night to follow. Why you're so wound up that when your Statesman issued phone chirps from your purse on his floor around 6:30 in the morning, your eyes open immediately. Jack has turned over in the night, sleeping on his back now with one arm still around you but not so tightly that you can't extract yourself to answer the message. That phone is used only for missions and confidential communication, meaning you absolutely cannot ignore it. Incoming Message: Agent Rye report immediately for mission briefing. CODE BLACK. Code Black. You curse under your breath, careful not to wake Jack, and rub one hand down your face in dismay. That level of secrecy in a mission assignment means you can't even wake him up to say goodbye. You're supposed to speak to no one, just proceed immediately to the nearest Statesman branch for your mission briefing. With a sigh and another, more colorful curse, you shake your head and glance back at the bed where Jack is sleeping soundly. There's nothing to do but get dressed and Walk of Shame your ass into the office. You just wish you could wake him up to say goodbye.

It’s been years since Jack has slept so well. Deep and dreamless, none of the nightmares that often plague his rest. The soft scent of you surrounding him and soothing him like nothing he’s had in a long time. When his eyes open, he’s feeling like he’s had the best sleep of his life. Frowning when he doesn’t feel you next to him. Calling out your name softly in case you were in the bathroom. “Rye? Sugar?”

There's no trace of you anywhere. He may as well have come home alone last night, except for the scent of you in the air and the scratches on his back. It's almost an insult when he sees a fallen sequin on the rug where your dress had been tossed.

“Fuck.” Jack’s slipped out of plenty of beds, ducked out and kept walking. The walk of shame was never shameful when there was a little bit of pep to his step, but right now, he’s pissed. Pissed you didn’t have the fucking balls to wake him before you slipped off like a thief in the night. Snatching up his pants, he digs into the pocket for his phone, dialing your number and ready to have it out with you.

"Hi! Sorry I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message and I'll call you back as soon as I'm able!" Your voicemail message is insultingly chipper when it picks up right away, almost taunting him. Like you aren't willing to talk, when nothing could be farther from the truth.

“Fuck!” Jack shouts, throwing the phone and scowling angrily. Pissed that you aren’t here, that you apparently don’t want to talk to him. “Fine, you regret it? Fuck you too.” He growls and stomps into the bathroom to shower. If you wanted nothing to do with him after he had let down his walls last night, he wants nothing to do with you either.

******

"What's got you all chewed up and spat out today?" Tequila raises an eyebrow at Jack when he comes huffing into the office, a little late and a lot pissed off. He had expected Jack to be in a stellar mood.

“Not a goddamn thing.” Even though his feathers are ruffled, Jack practically refuses to even think about you. To the point where he had thrown the sheets and the costly Tom Ford tuxedo away. “Whadda we got?” Desperate to concentrate on a mission, he jumps straight into business.

"Wingman prep." Tequila tells him, tapping the folder on his own desktop. "Somebody got tapped this morning and Champ wants us to comb some old mission files to prep for an extraction. Plan B sorta shit." And since all of the mission-ready agents on the Statesman payroll are top notch with years of experience under their belts, anyone potentially needing an extraction from a mission is a big fucking deal.

“Who got tapped?” Jack asks, grabbing a file and flipping it open with a frown on his face. “Scotch?”

"I thought you'd know already." Tequila's eyes snap back up to Jack in concern. "It was Rye."

Jack freezes and slowly lifts his eyes from the file to find Tequila frowning at him, confused by how he doesn’t know. “Why would I know that?” Jack asks after a moment. It explains why your phone was off, but you had still slipped out without saying a fucking word.

"Because...you went home with her last night?" Everybody knows that you and Jack left the party. Absolutely everyone. There was a whole extra celebration after you left. "Figured you woulda known by her getting up this morning and all."

There’s a split second where Jack wants to snap that you had left him to wake up alone, but he doesn’t. What comes out of his mouth instead, is to deny the whole thing. “Took her home.” Jack shrugs, lying easily as if he couldn’t care less. “She wanted to soak in a bath and read some book.”

The frown on Tequila's face deepens measurably, pure confusion marring his usually chipper face. "Bullshit," he huffs, leaning back in his desk chair. "I saw you kiss her. No way."

“Believe what you want.” Jack snaps flatly. “Where are we in planning the back up plans?” The hurt is soothed slightly by you being called away, but it doesn’t make it nonexistent. You hadn’t even left a goddamn message for him. He could have seen not waking him if you had left some sign that you didn’t regret the night even happened.

"Early stages." Knowing better than to poke the dragon when he's mad about something, Tequila defers to work like Jack clearly wants. "Tell me what you think, but I think me on the ground and you in the Silver Pony is the best bet." Whatever happened between you and Jack, the man is clearly hurt, and Tequila makes a note to go and talk to Ginger when he gets his next chance. If you had said anything to anyone, it would be to her.

“Whatever.” Jack practically rolls his eyes and shrugs. Usually he loves the opportunity to fly and show off in the Silver Pony, but he’s so worked up over you that he doesn’t even bat an eyelash. “Guess that’s the plan. If needed.”

“If needed.” All Tequila does is nod, but damn he really needs to talk to Ginger.

******

Jack holes up in his office, barely answering the phone and not leaving it all day, not even for lunch. Catching up on paperwork that is normally never done as he works through not being at home. Not remembering how you tasted and sounded last night. He’s even refused to pull up your camera footage, not wanting to see what you are doing. He’s miserable and is determined to stay that way.

“Thought I’d find you in here.” Champ’s gruff voice cuts through the silence long after everyone else has gone home for the night. He knew exactly where Jack would be. Especially after Tequila said the senior agent was out of sorts. “Come up to my office, Jack. We’re gonna have a drink.” It’s not a suggestion or a request. This is a direct order from this commander, and Champ turns around and heads back down the hall knowing Jack will follow.

Jack sighs and sets his pen down, ripping the reading glasses off his face and tossing them down on the folder. He had stayed cooped up in his office so he didn’t take his bad mood out on anyone so he doesn’t see why he needs to be called out onto the carpet. Still, he pushes back from his desk and follows the older man to the conference room Champ preferred over his official office. The bar cart in here was better stocked.

“Pick your poison.” Champ tells him, motioning for Jack to sit down at the conference table as he strolls over to the cart to grab a bottle and two glasses.

“Whatever your havin’.” Jack wonders what this is about, but he doesn’t ask. Just waits patiently for his boss to get to the reason in his own sweet time.

Champ grunts slightly, grabbing a bottle of ‘74 Reserve, and brings it to the table. He pours two fingers in each glass and slides one over to set in front of Jack before sitting down beside him and taking a sip from his own glass. “You’ve been hidin’ today,” he assesses after a moment of silence. “But I hear you damn near took Tequila’s head off this morning when you got in.”

“Can’t have a bad day?” Jack asks, picking up the whiskey and staring at it before taking a sip. “Woke up wrong, that’s all. I’ll apologize to the crybaby later.”

“He’s not a damn crybaby,” Champ huffs, covering his own amusement with a scowl. “I walked by your damn office, fool. And when he did come talk to me about it, it was because he was worried about you.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jack scowls and shakes his head. “I had a bad morning. I’m fine. Not gonna go off and try to kill all the drug users again.”

“Not saying you would.” Holding up his hands in a show of innocence, Champ leans back all the way and stares down his nose at Jack for a second longer before he shakes his head and shrugs. “But between you and me just these walls? Just thought you might wanna know that Rye got sent off Code Black, is all.” He isn’t supposed to say. Black is black. It’s too priority and top security. But you’d been so torn up this morning and Jack’s been so out of sorts in his own way that Champ has rightfully assumed that something fairly big must’ve happened after you left the party.

His jaw nearly drops. Champ never gives information away like that. He frowns, looking back down at his glass again and feeling relieved. If you had gotten a Code Black, you couldn’t wake him up. It would have been against protocol. He swallows and finally nods. “Good to know.”

“Just don’t want you stewing over it.” The older man says, watching carefully as he sips from his glass again. “You wanna be upset with anyone, it’s me. Not her.”

“Right.” Jack drains the rest of the whiskey and the crystal hits the table slightly harder than normal. “Anything else?”

“Nah. That’s it.” There’s nothing more that Champ can really say, and now Jack needs to process. That’s just how these things work. “See ya in the morning, Daniels.”

Jack stands. “‘Night, Champ.” He walks out of the room and back down the hall towards his office, looking down at his feet as he goes.

******

It’s two weeks before Tequila and Jack are given a stand-down order and told their rescue mission won’t be necessary. Mission success, they’re told with authority, even though it took longer than expected. They don’t get more than that, though, and Jack is walking past Ginger’s lab on his way out of the office late that night when he hears your voice again for the first time in weeks. It’s tired, and quiet, but unmistakable. “Can we just get this over with, Ging?” You ask your friend quietly, knowing that decontamination and a full physical are extremely necessary considering where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing. But you want to get the hell out of here and finally go talk to Jack.

He would never admit it, but he’s been living at Statesman. Barely going home to change and often refreshing the outfits that he keeps in his office for unexpected late nights. On call the entire time in case you needed him. Now you are here and Jack feels like running away. So much self doubt had built up over two weeks, he’s driven himself crazy over every little thing. Obsessing over the details of New Years.

“Once you have a clean bill of health, you go storm the ranch or whatever it is you’re going to do.” Ginger teases, full of warmth. “But I would try his office first.”

Jack frowns slightly and wonders what the hell Ginger is talking about, storming the ranch. He almost pushes the door open, but he doesn’t. Just wants to see what you will say if you know that he’s not listening.

“It’s been two weeks, Ging.” The pops and hums and beeps of her equipment punctuate your voice from inside the lab. “Every single second I haven’t been thinking about this mission I’ve been reliving that night. And I could kill Champ for sending me away Code fucking Black before I could even tell Jack how I feel about him.”

“I know it was bad timing.” He hears Ginger sigh. “But hopefully it gave you some time to think about what you’re going to say?”

Jack’s stomach twists and he feels nauseous. Wondering if you’ve decided that it was a mistake. He swallows harshly and whirls around, not wanting to hear how you plan on letting him down or friend zoning him.

“I’m going to tell him the truth,” he misses hearing you say. “That I’ve been in love with him for six years, and that I’m done being a coward about it.” This mission so easily could have killed you every single day that it became something of an eye opener. Getting back to Jack had become the most dominant and driving force in your mind at times.

Walking down to his office has Jack twisted in knots. He’s never been a coward before but he damn sure feels like running. Playing back that night in his head over and over had made him realize what he had said. More importantly, what you hadn’t said back. Walking over to his bar cart, he pours himself a heavy double and bolts it down. He’ll get wasted after you crush his hopes but that was needed so he doesn’t beg like a pathetic wretch. He needs to keep his pride somehow.

It’s twenty more minutes before he hears footsteps in the hall and hears your tentative voice calling his name. “Jack?” There’s nerves in it, anxiety hovering around you despite your triumphant mission. But you appear in his doorway looking worried and chewing your lip. “Hey…you’re still here.”

“Work’s never done.” Jack huffs, plastering on a friendly but not too friendly expression. “Haven’t seen you around in a few weeks. Mission go alright?” It’s painful to see you in that doorway, looking tired and beautiful. Reminding him of how you looked before he had fallen asleep and lost you.

“I’m home and in one piece.” It’s what you always say, but at least it’s true. He doesn’t exactly look happy to see you, though, and that makes you falter a little. Not enough to shake your resolve, but your optimism that he’ll respond with joy cracks right away. “Do you…can we talk a little?”

“Sure.” He takes off his reading glasses and stands. Moving over to the alcohol again. “Want a drink?” He asks, not looking over his shoulder at you. He sees the worry on your face and knows you are concerned about your working relationship. What he will do will be accept your wants, wish you well and promise that he will not let what happened affect your professional relationship. Then he will demand a transfer to the New York office, permanently. You nod and he pours out two drinks. “What’s on your mind, Rye?”

“Well…you are.” It seems like such an obvious answer that it almost feels silly saying it, but he won’t even look you in the eye so staring at the beginning seems like a good idea.

“Oh?” Turning around is hard, but he manages to look curious instead of sick to his stomach. “Now why would I be on your mind, sugar?” The endearment slips out and he nearly bites his tongue as he carries them over to the small sofa area.

The message is loud and clear: it really didn’t mean anything to him. Regardless, though, you have to power through. If he really didn’t mean what he said and has no interest in being with you, you’ll request a permanent transfer. Chicago, Dallas, Los Angeles — anywhere but here or New York. Swallowing a sigh, you accept the glass from him but just hold it in your hands while you gather your thoughts. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk before I had to leave,” you start, trying not to let the warmth and proximity of him get under your skin so easily. But you can’t really help it. “I did the best I could for a message to let you know what had happened, but it wasn’t much. And I’m sorry for that, too.”

His facade cracks, the scowl as quick to vanish as it appears and he scoffs. “Message received, Rye. A lone sequin on the floor. Practically like it was a dream, except for that.” He tosses back the whiskey. “Can you just get to the part where you tell me it was a mistake, you don’t want to ruin our friendship or work relationship? Or whatever bullshit excuse you’ve settled on to tell me you regret it?” His eyes are dark and pained when they finally land on you, barely resisting the urge to flee.

“On the floor?” Your brow furrowed instantly, a frown painting itself on your lips, and you set the glass in your hands aside to shift closer to him on the little couch. “Jack, I left a sequin on your nightstand.” The choice was even more horrible than you had worried it would be, apparently, because he looks so hurt he could actually cry. A fact which makes you instantly want to cry as well. “A black sequin was the best I could do for a signal. It—it must have…blown off. Stupid fucking flapper dress with all that fringe. It must have gone flying when I left the room.” There was no other breeze, no window open or fan blowing. Only you could have sabotaged yourself like that.

He doesn’t believe you and shakes his head. “Why would you leave a black-“ he trails off when it hits him. Black sequin - Code Black. Trying to tell him that you had wanted to leave a message but couldn’t. Champ had broken protocol by telling him about the Code Black and apparently you had tried to signal the same thing. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” You shake your head in resignation, blowing out a shuddering breath. “I didn’t want to leave. Especially not after…” Another shaky breath leaves the rest of you shaking in turn, and you shove your hands under your legs on the couch. This is the most terrifying thing you’ve ever asked a person in your entire life. “Did you…mean it? What you said?”

Jack bites his lip, wanting to ask you what you’re talking about but he can’t do that. You look distraught that he had thought you had just disappeared. “Yeah.” Jack admits quietly. “Look, I know that it’s not something you were expectin’ ta hear, and you don’t feel the same.” He rolls on with the emotions that he needs to get out. “I won’t be mad, or take it out on you. But that night….fuck.” He blows out a breath. “I got to touch you. Just like I fuckin’ dreamed of. And I couldn’t just let you think it was a heat of the moment thing for me.”

“Why do you think I don’t feel the same?” With your heart beating wildly and your shakiness only increasing, there’s a sort of explosive quality in your mind and body that you can’t quite figure out how to control. Like all you want to do is launch yourself at him for a kiss but you know you need to talk first. To get it all out in the open. To be honest with each other. “I—I honestly had no idea you thought of me as anything but a friend. I was…well…shocked is a bit of an understatement.”

Jack snorts. “I know my reputation. Hell, I crafted it. But I couldn’t flirt with you. It’s too- shit- you had me from the first time we met. I was fucking hooked and it wouldn’t have been right. You were a junior agent and -“ he shakes his head. “I was running from the kind of commitment you were made for.”

“Your reputation was built by a man who had loved his wife so deeply that he couldn’t bear the thought of loving and losing again,” you remind him quietly. You sure you hadn’t known that right away, but when you had learned about his wife and son, you understood implicitly. “But it…it never stopped me from falling in love with you. Even when I thought I’d never be more to you than an acquaintance. I considered myself damn lucky to eventually become your friend. I just thought…I thought the fact that you never, ever flirted with me…meant that it was unrequited. So I made myself okay with it. Until two weeks ago.”

“I respect you, Rye.” Jack murmurs quietly. “I didn’t want to make it seem like you were everyone else, because you weren’t.” It’s backwards and twisted, but no one ever said that he had defeated all his demons. “When I broke- I gave you everything.”

“More than you know.” A soft huff of a laugh escapes you and you shake your head again, willing your nerves to calm down even a little. “Just…please understand, Jack. That I’ve been in love with you since the second I met you. And the only reason I didn’t say it back the night we slept together is because I was so shocked to hear it from you in the first place. I thought I’d hallucinated what I wanted to hear, and then before I knew it we were asleep…and then I woke up to a Code Black.”

“I was upset.” Jack admits quietly. “Really upset.” He flushes slightly. “May have been thinkin’ some not-so-polite things until Tequila told me it was you who was slated for the mission.” He won’t tell you that Champ had broken the rules. “Convinced myself that you had run off to go save the world so you wouldn’t have to tell me that you’d had too much alcohol and that’s why you let me take you home.”

“Not at all.” Taking a chance, you reach for his hand and practically sigh in relief when he slots his fingers through yours. “I pretty much thought I’d died and gone to heaven, if I’m honest. I just kept thinking…if this only happens once, I never want to forget a single thing.” You squeeze his hand gently, wishing you could have said all this two weeks ago. “I’m sorry my message didn’t work. That’s…you have every right to think nasty things about me. I’m so sorry.”

“No I don’t.” Jack protests. “Not if you meant to be here. Not if you wanted to be here the next morning. Then it’s just a bad misunderstanding and I’m sorry.”

“Then I guess we’re both sorry.” He’ll never know that you cried all the way to the office that morning at having to leave him, you decide right now. It would only make him feel even more guilty and he doesn’t deserve that. “But I’m not sorry about what happened between us.”

“You aren’t?” He tightens his grip on your hand, relaxing slowly as you talk and he understands that this was one giant cluster fuck. He’s used to those, he can handle those. “That’s good, sugar. Because New Years was probably the best night of my life.”

“God, I hope you mean that.” Your shakiness is for more than one reason, although you needed to have this conversation first. Whatever the two of you decide will happen next is a decision made by both of you, not just you alone. “Because…Ginger couldn’t clear me…after my physical. I can’t go back on the list.”

Jack frowns, brows pulling together. “Why can’t Ginger clear you? What’s wrong?” There’s a number of things that can be fixed by Statesman tech and he’s worried that it’s something bad.

Your stomach churns with worry, but there’s nothing to be done about it now. The unmistakable advances of Statesman tech can do things that most doctors absolutely cannot, thanks to Ginger Ale, and you’re not sure whether to thank her or curse her. “It’s not that something’s wrong, technically,” you admit, giving another worried squeeze to his hand. “But we probably ought to have used that condom…”

Jack’s eyes widen and they drop to your stomach, discerning the meaning of your comment. You aren’t a liar and Jack would believe you if you said you didn’t sleep with someone else, but he’s confused. “Sugar- how?” He chokes out. “I got snipped when I joined Statesman.”

“When was the last time you had your sperm count checked?” You had made Ginger do the test three times, but the result was always the same. Your birth control failed and Jack’s second kid is already growing, if very slowly. “The chances of a vasectomy failing are less than one percent, but it can still happen.”

Jack frowns and then rolls his eyes and groans. “The chamber.” He remembers. “When I got shot and then- uh, put back together.” He shakes his head. “Ging said I might need to get it checked but I dadgum forgot.” He bites his lip and tries not to freak out over the fact that you are pregnant after your one and only time together. “What do you want, sugar?” He asks.

“Not more than you’re willing to give freely.” The answer is that you want all of him. Every single bit. Love and a life and a family. But you know that even if Jack does love you, he’s never loved anyone the way he loved his wife. And losing Maria nearly destroyed him, so he may not be willing to take that chance again. “But I…unless you really object…I’m keeping the baby. Even if you don’t want a commitment or anything. I just…you’re right about me. I want a family and if this is my only chance I don’t want to give that up. Especially not if I get even the littlest piece of you with it.”

“You think I would-“ he shakes his head. “No, I would never force you, one way or the other.” He frowns. “I was asking if you wanted to have a baby. And if you think I’m gonna sit back and let you raise it by yourself, you must have hit your dadgum head.”

“I want this baby.” It had only taken about ten seconds after learning it existed to determine that, even if you’re still grappling with the reality of it. “And I want you.” You inch closer to him on the couch. “However you want to be together. That part is up to you.”

“It’s been a long damn time since I’ve thought about being a daddy, sugar.” There’s a slight smirk on his face but he doesn’t make the obvious crude joke. “But I’m pretty traditional when you break it down. I’m not gonna want to be apart from you and our baby.”

He might not have made the joke but you still laugh, having made the sugar daddy connection in your mind easily enough. “I know it’s a lot, Jack. And we didn’t plan it. But…” All you can do is shrug your shoulders slightly, looking up at him with such obvious hope and even more obvious water behind your eyes. “But, I love you.”

“I meant it, baby girl.” He promises you, reaching out to caress your cheek and then cup it. “I love you. I love you so much, sugar.” Licking his lips, his eyes drop down to yours. “Can I kiss you?”

"I wish you would." practically beaming at him, you lean in and let the moment wash over you. Jack's lips against yours. His hands on your skin. His baby - your baby - is already starting to grow.

Jack pulls you close, pressing his lips against yours and groaning softly. “Sugar, you’re gonna have my baby.” He whispers against your lips in awe. “Just the one time, one time between your thighs and you are carrying my baby.”

“One time is all it takes.” You can’t help the broad way you smile, giggling softly against his lips as you steal another kiss.

“I don’t regret it.” He promises. “I don’t regret you.” He smiles as he kisses you again. “We really did shake things up for New Years, didn’t we?”

“Just a little bit.” Another laugh escapes you, and you lean into his side only to be rewarded with Jack’s arms encircling you and holding you close. “I don’t regret any of it. Except maybe not making my message a whole lot clearer.”

“We’ll get better at communicatin’.” Jack promises with a smile. “We’re partners now.”

“Do you want to go get dinner, maybe?” The end of a mission can be crazy even when it’s successful, and you just want to try to relax tonight. Especially with everything changing in your personal life too, apparently. “My treat?”

Jack scoffs and shakes his head. “You ain’t paying, sugar.” He huffs. “Not while you’re with me. If you want dinner, we can go out, or I can take you home and throw some steaks on the grill.”

“I kind of want to celebrate,” you admit, feeling silly about it even though it’s the truth. “If that’s okay?”

“Then we’ll go out and celebrate.” Jack promises before he frowns at something you had said. “Why would you have thought I would never be interested in you?”

“Because…” It feels sillier than the celebration thing now that you know the truth. Silly and even a little pointless, but he asked so you’ll tell him. “Because you flirted with every woman in the world besides me. Which Ginger said is how she knew you were interested in me. But I didn’t believe her.”

“You know you’re wrong, don’t cha?” Jack asks you. “When you said that you get sent on assignments to be invisible? You’re sent on the assignments you are given because you get the job done. Champ knows that if he gives you a task, it will be done.”

“Whatever the reason is, he’ll have to do without me for about a year.” It isn’t worth having a debate over your lack of self esteem with him right now, and you especially don’t want to ruin the mood by crying anything other than happy tears, so you just redirect the conversation altogether. “This baby is my top priority.”

“Our top priority.” He corrects you. He’s nervous, terrified really, but there’s no one he’d rather have a happy accident with than you. “Our New Year’s baby.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

[0-n-1-x]

Hellooo! Could you write something about carl gallagher dating a girl who has a protective older brother like mickey milkovich ??? Thanks ✨

Carl Gallagher x Protective Older Brother!Reader

link to my masterlist <33

The first time Carl meets your older brother, the tension is palpable. Your brother, much like Mickey, is rough around the edges, fiercely protective, and not easily impressed. He sizes Carl up immediately, making it clear that he’ll be watching every move Carl makes.

Your brother makes it his mission to keep a close eye on Carl, showing up unexpectedly or making pointed comments about how Carl should treat you. He’s always hovering in the background, ready to step in if he feels Carl is out of line. Which you appreciate, and you know its out of love, but its annoying most of the time

Carl understands where your brother is coming from and, instead of being intimidated, he sees it as a challenge. He goes out of his way to show that he’s serious about you, whether it’s through his actions or how he treats you when your brother is around. Over time, he starts to earn your brother’s respect. He's definitely like that with Debbie's flings and sometimes Fiona, so he understands the protectiveness (even if he does NOT have the same effect on their partners)

With your brother constantly watching, you and Carl find yourselves sneaking around to get some alone time. The secrecy adds an extra layer of excitement to your relationship. Whether it’s a (not-so-quick) kiss behind closed doors or a whispered conversation in the shadows, every stolen moment feels charged with adrenaline.

Carl often sneaks over to your place late at night, long after your brother has gone to bed. You both get a thrill out of the risk, knowing that getting caught could lead to a serious confrontation. These late-night visits are filled with quiet laughter, soft whispers, and the intimacy of being together when no one else is around.

But best believe he's jumping the fence when your brother comes chasing with a bat

You and Carl become experts at crafting believable alibis. If your brother asks where you’ve been or what you’ve been doing, you’re always ready with a story that keeps suspicion at bay. Carl is unsurprisingly good at coming up with quick excuses

To avoid raising suspicion, you and Carl would probably develop a system for texting each other in code. Simple phrases or emojis take on new meanings, allowing you to communicate plans without giving anything away if your brother happens to glance at your phone. It’s a fun, secret language that only the two of you understand. Though Carl forgets every other time and you have to rework the whole system

[bejeweledblondie]

König Headcannons

A/N: just like Ghost’s headcannon’s I’m taking inspiration from my experiences living on a military base

Warnings: NSFW

König x F! Reader

• König initially first met you while you were volunteering with the United Nations & Doctors Without Borders

• you were administering vaccines to children in the Middle East, & providing medical services to the underprivileged communities

• he was awe of your empathy & kindness towards these children, you treated them like they were your own & took your job super seriously

• KorTac was providing security for the community from potential terrorist attacks, as taking any western countries citizen for ransom seemed enticing

• After a surprise attack on the camp that was set up, he immediately brought you to safety & held you as you sobbed into chest out of fear for your life & all those innocent civilians that caught in the gunfire

• “shhh, schatz it’ll be okay” he whispered to you

• he finally asked you out after months of waiting for the right time

• you were giving him his flu shot when he asked you out

• your first date was in his off post apartment, he had cooked you homemade Austrian food

• his cooking is divine, he always chef’s it up in the kitchen

• you guys moved in only a few months into dating (which seems early but in the military world you’re slacking)

• he proposed with his Oma’s ring

• he also asked your parents over FaceTime for your hand in marriage, they were reluctant but he was very persuasive

• you’d probably wind up working at the hospital on post, & the soldiers that come in 100% know you’ll take care of them

• during Christmas leave both of your families meet in Vienna for Christmas time, I mean cmon Vienna is gorgeous at Christmas

• you two announce your pregnancy at Christmas dinner

• his Oma jumped up & ran over to hug you

• this man’s genes are freakin strong

• you definitely get pregnant with twins

• König is deployed when you find out & you tell him over FaceTime

• he cried pure tears of joy & his whole team celebrated

• due to the fact he’s like a giant he produces large babies

• you’d have to get a c-section for the birth because of it, & König makes it in the last second.

• he still had his hood on & was in his tactical gear scaring the entire nursing staff

• imagine their surprise when he just asks where his wife is

• you have a girl & a boy

• they’d definitely be named after his grandparents

• he sings lullaby’s in Austrian to them to introduce them to his home country’s culture

• he hates leaving for deployments now that they’re born & he definitely became more ruthless on the battlefield due to it

• he 100% would bring the babies to work whenever it was a mandatory fun day or a super relaxed day at work

• these hardened military men would be all over your babies & arguing as to who gets to hold them next

• they’re very well protected & König made sure of that

• he’s a family man at heart & he will do anything to protect them

✨NSFW ✨

• you weren’t very experienced when you met König & when you first saw his cock you were in absolute disbelief a man could be that hung

• you let your intrusive thoughts win & asked if he’d fit inside of you

•it took a lot of foreplay for him to fully fit snug in you

• he definitely would say the most absolutely filthy things in Austrian to you even if you understood them or not

• massive size & breeding kink

• he just loves how small your hands are compared to his cock you need both of them to jerk him off

• when he found out you were pregnant he was elated that his efforts worked out

• loved to see your body change & baby bump grow

• also loved how horny you were as a pregnancy symptom ( it killed him that you’d have to deal with that alone while he was deployed)

• like most military men he too has a collection of your nudes & plenty of videos of him fucking you

• he loves your hips & how wide they are to him it digs deep into the primal instinct of carrying his babies

• König is just as stealthy in bed as he is in on the battlefield

[steviebbboi]

Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge!

Howdy lads~ exciting news to share:

I just reached a 200 follower count on Tumblr 🎉🎉🎉

I kinda can't believe it? Writing is indeed good for my soul. Interacting with y'all on here has helped me with my mental and emotional wellness due to just finding such great community on here. Thank you for giving me the space to write and for following along/supporting in my writing journey 💖

With that spiel spoken, I wanted to host a writing challenge in celebration of this milestone! *squealing because i'm so excited to host*

Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge Masterlist

*you'll find all writing submissions and writing requests (answered) at the link above*

You could participate by sending in either:

✨ writing request via my Asks (💙)

and/or

✨ writing submissions (💥).

General Rules:

the challenge will start October 1st until the end of November (flexible on late entries for submissions only💥; let's say till mid-December or so).

I'll read/write for Chris Evans characters, Henry Cavill Characters, and Charlie Hunnam characters [and Bucky Barnes specifically lol] (these are my preferences but if there are other characters that you'd like to bring in, just ask me)!

for writing requests 💙, i will only be accepting requests (2 max/person; pls do not send more than 2 asks!) until the end of November.

for writing submissions 💥, go wild! submit as many as you like!

you can do both (send in a writing request 💙 AND send in a writing submission(s)💥) if you want to; rules still apply for the requests though.

use at least one prompt within your request 💙/submissions💥 from the lists below (but def. go crazy if you wanna use more than one! you don't have to claim any prompts).

works can be inclusive! poc, gender neutral, neurodivergencies, mid size/plus size/curvy readers are encouraged!

No word limits but please use a 'read more' after 200 words

Works can be part of an existing series but must be able to stand on their own

tag me @steviebbboi and use the tags #bbboi200celebration and #steviebbboiwritingchallenge in your entry so i can read/reblog your work! (If I somehow lose sight of your submission, please remind me and I'll take a look at it right away ☺️)

Most important one: Have fun!

How To Play:

✨ You must be 18+ to participate in this challenge!

✨ Choose one (or multiple 😏) BB's:

Chris Evans Characters

Steve Rogers/Captain America

Ransom Drysdale

Ari Levinson

Frank Adler

Curtis Everett

Andy Barber

Hayden/Harvard Hottie

Nick Gant

Jake Jensen

Johnny Storm

Lloyd Hansen

Henry Cavill Characters

Clark Kent

Napoleon Solo

Geralt of Rivia

August Walker

Charlie Hunnam Characters

Jax Teller

Raymond Smith *extra brownie pts if you write about him omg*

King Arthur

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes [he's all by himself im so sorry lmfao 🥹]

✨ Choose one (or more) of the following prompts:

*if you don't want to write smut, you don't have to choose anything from the kinks prompt! feel free to only use the following two prompts :)

soft dom!BB

clothes/naked ratio

size kink

slow and deep 👀

breeding kink (non-pregnancy version)

somnophilia

free use

cockwarming

belly bulge

Squirting

consensual non-con

consensual dub-con

cumeating

creampie

anal/or dp

possessive/or protective manhandling!BB

oral sex

orgasm delay

dumbification

daddy/princess kink

overstimulation

sex pollen

prone bone

cockdrunk

threesome (BB/Reader/BB)

ass/pussy spanking

mild degradation

body worshipping

quickie/don't get caught (public sex, threats of exhibitionism, etc.) 😏

Grouchybb! who is only soft with you

Married and loyal!spouse

A/B/O

lumberjack!bb who is a teddy bear on the inside tho

mob AU

biker AU

soulmate AU

mutual pining/idiots in love

childhood besties to lovers

reformed playboy

professor AU

supernatural/mythical (gods, sirens, werewolves, witches, vampires, ghosts, oh my!)

frenemies to lovers

fwb to lovers

locked in AU/forced proximity

medieval AU

fake dating/relationship

sharing one bed

polar opposites attract

break up and make up

spy AU

meet cute

cowboy AU

gentle recluse!BB

brothers best friend!BB

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Yes, take it, slut"

"It's not that big of a deal."

"God, why do you always do this"

"You're impossible."

"Then I guess we gotta be quiet, huh?"

"We're trapped."

"Shh, you wouldn't want anyone to hear, or do you?"

"You're taking me so well, baby"

"Good girl" *for fem readers; adjust accordingly!*

"Tsk, uh-uh, c'mere, honey"

"You always feel so good around me, baby"

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Here, let me help you."

"Yeah, are you a cockhungry slut, now?"

"I hardly think that that's necessary."

"Don't be a brat, baby."

"Aw, does it feel good right there?"

"I'm sorry!"

"What do you want from me?!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"What do you think you're doing here?"

"Nope. Again."

"Don't worry, I got you."

"Just stay still, there you go."

"Just one more, I promise."

"C'mon, don't you wanna be good?"

"Stay over there!"

"You better hurry up, baby."

"Thaaaat's it, you're doing so well, honey."

"Uhm, I'm not sure that's going to work."

"Please, I'll beg, please!"

"Be honest."

"Be careful there, darlin'."

"Are you okay?"

"Are you sure you wanna go there?"

Scenarios? Any! Go. Wild.

✨ I love reading/writing angst w/HEA, soft dark (nothing too dark though), fluff and SMUT (as you can see w/the many many kinks).

no incest (stepcest is ok if tasteful lol), no infidelity, no watersports, no murder, no gore. if you're unsure if a trope is appropriate, ask me!

if im ever uncomfy with writing something, i will lyk and we can talk more about it to see if we could work with it!

feel free to ask any questions!

i think i got everything!

Have the best time, laddies~ thanks for celebrating with me!

All are welcome to join in the fun! ❣️

Tagging a few mutuals who may be interested but no pressure bbs:

@bigtreefest @mercurial-chuckles @stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork @buckets-and-trees @hotdamnhunnam @laurfilijames

@autumnrose40 @eloquentlytired @misscherry-26 @stellar-solar-flare

@darsynia @navybrat817

[gaybananabread]

ARGHSH I was thinking maybe ler!Sero and Lee!gnReader for day 15 of tickletober????? TYSM if you decide to do this (it’s also ok of you don’t ToT)

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR WORK AND HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT NIGHT/ DAY <33333333

TickleTober Day 15 - “Are you ticklish?”

~THANK YOU ANON!✨✨✨✨ Sero is best boy, no doubt about it. Fair warning, I haven’t watched the newest season yet, so this is gonna be written with the knowledge I have! As for the movie reference in here, let’s be honest: that scene with the spiders got a good few of us. I may or may not have let my old crush on Sero show here… Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy! Happy spooky season!~

Lee: Gender Neutral Reader (nickname “hon”)

Ler: Hanta Sero

Summary: What starts as an innocent movie hang-out becomes tickly chaos as Sero makes a rather interesting discovery. Unfortunately for you, he’s quite happy with the new source of entertainment.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Movie night – an innocent enough idea, or so you’d thought. You and him hadn’t had much quality time as-of-late, so you penciled in some quick, low-effort fun.

And, of course, Sero had to be the one to choose the film. You weren’t complaining (much); he had pretty good taste in films. You just hadn’t expected him to pick a movie with…that in it.

Since it was October, Sero had chosen a spooky movie: Corpse Bride. You’d never seen it before, and it seemed interesting. He promised you’d like it, even betting his favorite hoodie that you’d wanna watch it again. You happily took those odds.

About three-fourths of the way through the movie, you were definitely into it. The stop-motion animation was really cool to watch, and the plot had you wondering which way it’d go.

Of course, you also had the world’s comfiest space heater next to you, his arm draped over your shoulder as you leaned against his side. That definitely helped you enjoy yourself.

You were completely relaxed and focused, zeroed in on the television screen. So, when the scene with the spiders came on, you were completely unprepared.

As the folk of the underworld were preparing Victor for the wedding, Victor’s suit was tailored by the spiders. At least six of the hand-sized arachnids crawled across his torso, each repairing some part of his suit.

Apparently, the legs tickled; he jerked about and laughed, squirming as they accidentally tickled him. It wasn’t a long scene, by any means, but it still caught you completely off guard.

Sero felt you squirm, glancing over to see what was going on. You were blushing…? The only thing happening on screen was a quick tickle scene. He saw your foot clench through your socks, and it all clicked. Oooo, I’m gonna have fun with this…

“You’re awfully red over there, hon. What’sa matter?” Sero gave your side a little squeeze, presumably to get your attention. He couldn’t hide his smirk as you jumped, loving the little sound that caught in your throat.

“I-I’m fine. Just…need a drink.” You reached over to grab your drink, only to have him tase your underarm. Squeaking, you back, falling right into his side. He barely had to try to capture you, just wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Hey…” He leaned in, dropping his voice to whisper teasingly in your ear. “Are you ticklish?”

The question somehow both made your blood run cold and your face burn at the same time. When he testingly dragged a few fingers across your stomach, you couldn’t help but giggle in response.

“I’ll take that as a yes~”

Ugh, even his tone was enough to send butterflies swarming in your chest! That wasn’t the only sensation there; Sero began attacking your stomach with his right hand, the left holding you against him. He gave your hip a few teasing squeezes, watching as you bucked and laughed.

“S-SEHEHEHERO!” Wriggling and kicking, you tried to shove his arms away. Unfortunately, the smug hero-in-training was stronger than you, keeping you trapped in his arms.

“Damn, you really are ticklish, aren't cha?” Sero mused, glancing over at the screen. He skillfully hit the remote with his toe, pausing the movie so only your laughter could be heard. He loved the sound of it: raucous, flustered, and utterly adorable.

Actually, your laugh sounded…really different. It was less reserved; you didn’t exactly have the choice to hold back, after all. The sound was free, helpless, and oh-so-happy. It brought a slight blush to his cheeks, making him huff.

“You’ve been holdin’ out on me, you brat!” The tape-quirked boy playfully growled, resting his head on your shoulder. He wasn’t sure if it was flustering or not, but it was comfy. “Where’s this pretty laugh been, huh?”

“I-IHIHIT’S NOHOT PREHEHETTY!” You denied the claim, kicking your feet against the worn cushions of his couch. It wasn’t helping you escape in the slightest, but it helped you not to lose your mind.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

Suddenly, he stopped, giving you a moment to catch your breath. Fuck, that tone…he didn’t sound happy. You just huffed, shrugging.

“You don’t get to lie to my face. That has consequences.”

Before you could ask what he was talking about, he activated his quirk. Your wrists were taped together and hoisted above your head, the tail of the tape sticking to the ceiling. You were stuck to wiggle helplessly, back facing your attacker.

“I didn’t lie!” The annoyed huff told you that reasoning wasn’t gonna work. Begging it was, then. “W-wait, wait, Sero! I’m sorry!”

“Too little, too late. Sing for me~”

With that, the real attack began. Sero let his right hand attack your armpit, the other clawing at your stomach from behind. All the while, he whispered little teases in your ear, flustering the shit out of you. It was hardly fair, but you couldn’t really complain properly through your cackles.

"You have the prettiest laugh on Earth, hon. I'm not gonna let you forget it~"

As you squirmed and thrashed, your top began to ride up. It exposed your belly fully, and Sero was more than happy to take advantage of that.

“Don’t mind if I do…” He dragged his short nails across your bare midriff, loving the feeling of your quivering belly beneath his fingers. “I could do this aaaaall day, hon~”

You were losing it, thrashing and twisting to try and get the tape off. It held diabolically strong, leaving you trapped under Sero’s evil fingers. Eventually, you hit your limit, letting your head hang forwards.

“S-SEHEHEHEROHOHO! NOHO MOHOHOHORE!”

He begrudgingly stopped, sensing you had reached your limit. The tape was removed, and he pulled you back against his chest to cuddle. Utterly exhausted, you complied without a second thought.

“Geez, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as ticklish as you.” Sero chuckled, gently rubbing the stomach he had just finished tormenting. You just groaned in flustered annoyance, burying your face in his warm chest.

“Shut up, Hanta.” You used his first name to let him know he was pushing it. The head pats you received were close to compensation, but he had a long way to go.

Glancing over, you finally remember the movie the two of you were watching. You were about to fall asleep, so finishing it would have to wait until tomorrow. Actually…

“Hey, since we didn’t actually finish the movie, I can’t watch it again. I won the bet.” Watching his expression go from confusion to despair felt extra gratifying in that moment. He sputtered, trying and failing to come up with a reason to deny you. You’d found a loophole.

“Damn it…fine. You can have my Kuromi hoodie…brat.” You stuck your tongue out at him before cheering; you’d been after soft purple article for months.

Yeah, he was never gonna see that hoodie again…

Worth it.

[percy-puppy]

Headcanon: Dick Piercings

About: CoD Men || Gaz, König, Keegan, Soap

A/N: Bestie and I talked about the CoD men and if any of them have a piercing in their special area. It ended with me researching for an hour and coming to these conclusions. @mothymunson caused it with this! ↓

TW: 18+ Blog/Post | MDNI, Piercings (duh.), DICK DIAGRAMS (plural), Me thirsting, talk about dicks/masochism/lil sex talk focused on vagina owners since I wrote this to self-indulge.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick

Ampallang Piercing.

✿ It's pretty subtle compared to the others, but still some bling (his piercing is made from gold), and I think it suits Gaz's personality, too. Also, it doesn't just feel good for you, cause many men report increased sexual pleasure with this piercing. He definitely got it for this reason.

Keegan P. Russ

Reverse Prince Albert.

✿ “Just the tip,” has such a nice drag with that piercing. He also has a tongue piercing. He isn't even half in, and he doesn't need to, tbh. That piercing is the g-spot magic wand.

König

Prince Albert. (classic)

✿ This had me drooling, and I didn't even know what got me so hard at first, but here is why: It's quite a thick ring and just gives bull vibes, which matches him wholeheartedly. He is a massive man and cannonically couldn't be a sniper because of it. He was later assigned as an insertion specialist and served as a battering ram. So, he is a breeding bull — breeding kink, size kink, mating press… It’s once again a piercing both sides get increased pleasure from.

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish

TOP: 3 Top Ladders. Dydoe/King’s Crown. (Pierced through the ridge vertically at the penis's head base.)

BOTTOM: 3 Bottom Ladders. Hafada/Scrotal. (He is pierced there 1x (ring piercing). It sits right in the middle. During doggy, it smacks your clit.)

✿ Listen… he likes some pain, he is a little nuts—the chaotic middle-child energy just manifested like that. He has multiple dick piercings. He enjoys the modification of his cock, and getting them was fun for him, too. He definitely makes jokes that sound like condom sale slogans, like, “✨Ribbed for her Pleasure✨”. He got them for your pleasure, but he gets off on getting you off, so it's a double-win.

[idiotdriftinginspace]

Mars 2 electric boogalo ᕦ( ᐕ )ᕡ

hey @lets-try-some-writing i've made more stuff, since:

1-i can't control myself or the amount of ideas that just come to my mind XD; and

2- I'm having SO MUCH FUN AND JOY making these and seeing other people also enjoy these :)

So Mars despite his near non existent magnetic field and atmosphere also have aurora borealis, smaler but still aurora...and I just couldn't help myself :D

A little eplenation since Mars doesn't have canon design, I just winged it and tired to mash Ares and a planetary titan, hence why the shoulder pads and skirt flaps both have the surface texture just like Earth, but at the same time are stylized after whatever greek armor Ares have

The big circles on his left arm - that's Olympus Mons: It is Mars's tallest volcano, its tallest planetary mountain, and is approximately the tallest mountain currently discovered in the Solar System. So what's a better use for it than to use it alongside classical ✨transformers mass shifting✨, and turn it into hidden/compressed shield - also borrowed from Ares, but i also think it fits his personality to have one

And now i think my absolute favorite detail: The Markings

I couldn't get your drawing of Convoy with these markings out of my head, and the fact that Mars is old and definitely had an amazing relation with his citizens before departure, so I just thought that it would be really cool and cute if the markings were a gift from his previous citizens. Either during their stay, simply as a "thank you" or "we love you", or as a parting gift, so he could always remeber them the "we're always with you, we'll never forget you" :')

And i had to throw the biolights? the energon lines running on the body (or as I like to call them: "TRON lights". I just love the concept of cybertronians to have such thing, and this is why (among many other things) I love TFP Soundwave and Shockwave and the whole IDW/MTMTE designs :D

Overall I had SO MUCH FUN drawing these AAAAHHHHH and again I'm so happy you like it as much as i enjoy making them

Bonus, because I CAN NOT BE STOPPED (⊙ヮ⚆)

Yeah he holds them in a baby carier, as for the (way to small for a titan and a buch of rovers barely the size of a car) size difference, ehm: ✨the magic of transformers mass shifting✨...and it being a cute image

close up on the babies:

(shhh I know that as of writing this post Marie Curie and Ingenuity are not canon, but neither is Marss design and I want one big happy family ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ )

Part 1: Earth

[duckieduccss]

✨Family Bonding✨

Finally colored in the sketch i did some days ago for Father’s Day. Like i said then, this was inspired by the trans pride stop motion short. The idea of Godzilla taking the time to both learn & support their child from love was really sweet (loved it a lot ^^) & most importantly, i loved the idea as a whole too. Along with that i decided to add a lil bit more of context and i based it off the question: “what about the bow”

[Feel free to read the following if youd like]

When Godzilla first found out about their child, he felt compelled to do everything for her. To him, seeing her happy & smile was much more important. If she was happy being herself, he was happy too. Following this, he would often have conversations with his daughter. Spending more time together & asking her how she was feeling. Thankfully, she always responded to be happy, going as far to confess she felt that way thanks to her own father. For listening & loving her always. Godzilla was relieved, knowing he did well in being a father & taking on the task of caring for another living being. He continued to be there for her ultimately coming to the opportunity for her to express her true self. At first, she couldn’t decide on what, then later debating on what could fit best for a kaiju like her (originally she wanted a dress but wasn’t sure if there were any in a size fit for kaiju). Godzilla later agreed to help, seeing it as a perfect bonding opportunity, and came to agree on something smaller. It was his own idea to gift her a small bow for her to wear. Instantly, she fell in love with it (most importantly giving her father the biggest hug & telling that she loved him & was the best dad in the world) and wore it everywhere she went. For her, the bow meant much more. For it reminded her that her father loves her, very much to accept her when she told the truth about herself. For Godzilla, he was very proud to have a very lovely daughter & was more than excited to see her grow into one day becoming the Great Queen of Monsters

[I had fun coming up with this idea too. I just really like wholesome stuff like this( i hope you do too). And also the idea of trans junior, sure!!! Im all for it. I just love seeing happy family bonding overall✨🥺]