#the story kept me constantly on edge constantly
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wanderingskychild · 9 months ago
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This quest was EPIC! SO MUCH POWER! & a change to actual fight off krill alongside the deer, this quest alone has skyrocketed the season to my top 3. Alongside the season of Aurora & Moments.
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That concludes the end of the Season Of The Nine-Colored Deer! This was an amazing story-based season & I look forward for more like this one in the future.
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hoe4hotchner · 15 days ago
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I have an idea for a Hotch story. What about its Hotch x wife!reader where jack is about 6 months old but she’s still constantly checking his breathing at naps and bedtime and waking up all the time she check him and is super conscious. Hotch thought at first it’s just a new mom thing but now you’re losing sleep and worried all the time so he brings it up one night and she just breaks down and says “I never know if you’re coming home to me so I need to make sure jack is ok so I always have a piece of you with me”
Safe and Sound | [A.H]
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x wife!Reader | WC: 0.7k | CW: Could probably be qualified as post partum, anxiety, lack of sleep.
A/N: I tried my hardest to write this with Jack as the baby, but ultimately I had to make it into a new baby unrelated to Jack, cause my brain couldn't wrap around reader having given birth to Jack. Otherwise it follows the prompt…. Hope it's okay <3
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The soft glow of the nightlight bathed the nursery in a warm amber hue as you hovered over the crib. The rhythmic sound of the baby monitor buzzed faintly in the background, but it wasn’t enough to ease your mind. Your hand rested lightly on your son’s tiny chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall from his breathing. Six months in, and every nap, every bedtime, still filled you with a quiet kind of dread.
What if the monitor failed? What if something happened while you weren’t watching? The what-ifs buzzed louder than the monitor, it was a relentless echo that kept you tethered to the edge of fear no matter how safe or serene he looked in his sleep.
The creak of the nursery door broke your focus, pulling your gaze away from your son’s chest. Aaron’s silhouette filled the doorway, his broad shoulders casting a shadow into the softly lit room. He was only wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of boxers, the casualness of his attire contrasting with his usual suit and tie. His arms were crossed loosely over his chest, and his dark eyes softened as they took you in, concern etching faint lines across his face. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth, not in irritation but in worry.
“Sweetheart,” he said softly, careful not to wake the baby. “You need to sleep.”
“I’m fine,” you whispered back, brushing your fingertips over your son’s soft, silky hair. You lingered, reluctant to leave. “I just needed to check.”
Aaron stepped into the room, his feet silent against the carpet. “You’ve checked three times in the past hour,” he said gently, his hand finding the small of your back. “Come back to bed.”
You sighed, looking down at your baby boy one last time before letting Aaron guide you out of the nursery. The two of you walked in silence to your bedroom, his hand never leaving you as if to anchor you to him so you wouldn't run back to the nursery. When you climbed into bed, Aaron slid in beside you, propping himself up on one elbow to face you.
“This isn’t just a new mom thing, is it?” he asked, his voice low and careful, treading lightly as he spoke. “You’ve barely been sleeping. You’re running yourself into the ground.”
You froze, staring at the ceiling as tears burned behind your eyes. He was right — he always was. But admitting it felt like opening a floodgate you weren’t sure you could close.
“I just…” Your voice cracked, and Aaron shifted closer. “I need to make sure he’s okay.”
“He is okay,” Aaron said, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek. “He’s perfect. And you’re an amazing mom.”
The dam broke. The tears spilled over as a sob escaped your lips. “I never know if you’re coming home to me,” you choked out, your hands gripping his t-shirt as though he might disappear. “So I need to make sure the baby is okay. I need to know I’ll always have a piece of you with me.”
Aaron’s breath hitched, his face falling as your words sank in. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he kissed the top of your head. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “I’m so sorry you feel like that.”
You clung to him, his steady heartbeat soothing some of the ache in your chest. “I can’t lose you, Aaron. Or him. I wouldn’t survive it.”
“You won’t lose us,” he promised, his lips brushing your temple. “I’ll do everything I can to come home to you, every time. And I’ll make sure you’re never carrying this alone.”
For a long time, he just held you. As your sobs quieted, he eased you back down onto the pillows, still holding your hand.
“Tomorrow, we’ll figure this out,” Aaron said softly. “We’ll talk to someone and find ways to help you rest. But tonight, let me watch over him so you can sleep. Okay?”
You nodded, your exhaustion finally catching up to you as his words and touch began to pull you under. “Okay,” you whispered.
And as you drifted off in Aaron’s arms, for the first time in months, you felt the weight begin to lift — getting help was not such a bad idea after all.
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lendeah · 11 months ago
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Three times you take care of Astarion and one time he takes care of you
[ao3 link]
You were a caring person. That much was clear from the first moment you let him drink off you, almost to death. It was also clear when you tried to cool Karlach down with a rainy spell so you could hug her. Or give Gale every piece of magic item in your inventory so he could eat it. You enjoyed taking care of people.
However, taking care of Astarion wasn't an easy task. As much as you wanted to be there for him and help him, the vampire was a difficult person to handle. He was like a wild animal, constantly on edge and ready to lash out. It soon became clear that Astarion wasn't used to being on the receiving end of caring. Wasn't used for someone to care at all.
So you went little by little, as to not startle him. You started by simply spending time with him. Patiently listening to his endless complaints and blatant flirting, offering a sympathetic ear and a playful response, respectively. It was clear that Astarion enjoyed your company, even if he didn't always show it. He would often make snarky comments or sarcastic remarks, but you could tell that deep down, he appreciated having someone around.
Of course, you let him drain you dry every night, which honestly left you sick and tired through the day, but it was worth the glint in his eyes and the way his cheeks seemed to light up as if he was alive again.
You couldn't help but notice; he always had a book in his hands. Whether you were at camp or out on an expedition, he was constantly reading. So you began collecting every book you stumbled upon and leaving them on his bedroll for him to find when he returned to his tent. No matter the genre- whether it was a history book, poetry or even erotica- you always gifted them to him.
The first times, he would search around the camp in confusion, wondering who had left them there for him. But after the fifth or sixth book, the vampire's expression would light up with a secretive smile as he eagerly flipped through the pages. It warmed your heart to see him so engrossed in a story, his curiosity evident in his shining eyes. However, you kept your identity hidden: if he knew it was you leaving the books, he might become wary again and you didn't want to risk it after coming this far. This went on for a few weeks until one day, as you were leaving another book, a voice called out from behind you.
"Well, hello there. I suppose the game is up."
You froze, the book still in your hands, as you turned around to see Astarion standing with a sly smile on his face.
"I... erm, I just found these books lying around and thought they might be yours," you said lamely.
He smirked, eyes narrowing as if he saw right through your excuses. "Funny, I don't recall owning any of these books you are holding."
You blushed, avoiding his gaze. "Oh...I must have made a mistake then."
But Astarion just shook his head, walking closer to you until he was within arm's reach. "You think I don't know what you're doing? You haven't exactly been subtle, sweetheart."
You felt your face heat up even more, the blush reaching your ears.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," you said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably as your voice came out a little squeaky.
Astarion chuckled. "Well, if I didn't know any better, I might suspect that you were trying to seduce me. If you wanted to come into my tent, all you had to do was ask, my dear."
"I-It... It's not like that!" you sputtered out, trying to avoid eye contact with him. "I just thought... you like reading."
"Oh, I do," Astarion said in a low voice. "Among other things."
You swallowed hard as your mind raced. Had he just... Was he implying what you thought he was implying?
"I-I should really get going," you said quickly, turning away from him and almost tripping over your own feet.
But before you could run off, Astarion's hand closed around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. "Wait," he said, his eyes locked onto yours. His expression was a bit serious, a stark contrast to the playful persona he usually wore. "Thanks for the effort. It's almost sweet, doing all this for me."
The two of you stood there for a moment longer before Astarion spoke up again.
"Perhaps we could have a little fun and read them together sometime?" he suggested with a raised eyebrow.
You smiled shyly at him, feeling butterflies in your stomach at his offer.
"I... I would love that," you said, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice.
Astarion's smile widened and he released your wrist. "Wonderful. I look forward to it, my dear. And I do hope the next book is a good one."
You walked away from his tent, trying to convince yourself that the thumping of your heart was simply due to your love for taking care of others.
With each passing day, your meetings with Astarion in his tent became a familiar routine. You allowed him to feed on you, then spent time reading together from the books you had collected for him. It was also a chance for you to study him closely, searching for any other way to care for him. One night, as he read aloud to you, the soothing sound of his voice lulled you into a peaceful slumber, curled up on his bedroll next to him. The next morning, as sunlight flooded the tent, you woke up to find Astarion already awake, holding a book in his hands.
"Good morning," you said, rubbing the sleep off your eyes. "Sorry I fell asleep here."
Astarion raised an eyebrow at you. "No need to apologize. I must say, you look quite lovely when you're sleeping. Although you do not sound that lovely, but well, we can't all be perfect."
You rolled your eyes, then sat up stretching your limbs. As you glanced around the room, your eyes landed on the book in his hand - the one you two had been reading last night. It was almost finished now.
"Wait, you haven't slept?"
He let out a soft laugh.
"My dear, I am an elf. We do not sleep; we trance. And to answer your inquiry, no, I did not partake in that either. It's not something I typically find enjoyable."
You looked at Astarion with confusion and concern. "But... why? Don't you need to rest?"
He gave a casual shrug. "If I enter into a trance, the only memories accessible to me are my own life experiences. And let me tell you, those are not pleasant memories."
"But isn't there a way for you to... just rest? Without the memories, I mean?" You asked.
Astarion smirked, his eyes still fixed on the book in his hands. "Why bother learning how to sleep when I can trance instead?" he quipped "Trancing has always been my preferred method anyway."
You couldn't imagine what it was like, being forced to relive your trauma over and over again every night.
"I’m so sorry, Astarion," you whispered, your voice barely above a hush.
He waved his hand dismissively. "Oh well," he said, "It's all in the past now, isn't it? Just another part of who I am."
You nodded slowly but you couldn’t shrug off his words as easily as he could. You recalled the way he looked when he was trancing - peaceful and unguarded. It was hard to imagine that behind those serene features he was being haunted by his memories.
The day was a blur, as you struggled to maintain a cheerful facade and engage in small talk. However, Astarion's words continued to haunt you. As the evening progressed and you both followed your usual nightly routine, you made a decision to do something.
"Astarion." He turned to you, a curious look on his face. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your courage."I think we could try something different tonight. Do you trust me?"
Astarion looked at you as though surprised by the question, a hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes.
"Trust is a strong word, darling," he replied, a smirk forming on his lips. "But yes, I suppose I do trust you."
"Good," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart.
You cleared your throat as you settled into the bedroll, signaling for him to join you. Astarion raised an eyebrow but followed your lead, settling into the bedroll beside you.
"Rest your head on my lap," you instructed softly
Astarion's eyebrows shot up once more, but then he shrugged and followed your instructions. He cautiously rested his head on your lap, surprising you with his compliance. Sensing the tension in his body, you refrained from touching him yet, and instead reached for your bag. He watched you curiously as you took out a small jar.
"What's that?" he asked, his eyes glinting with intrigue.
"It's a special blend of herbs and oils that I use to help me relax and sleep better," you explained, opening the tub and taking out a small dab of the mixture. "Can I touch you?"
He seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, before he answered, "Yes you may."
You rubbed the mixture between your fingers before gently massaging it onto his temples and forehead. You could feel him tense under your touch, probably not used to this kind of contact.
"Does it help?" he asked quietly, his eyes closed.
"It helps me," you replied honestly. "I'm not sure if it'll have the same effect on you, but I figured it's worth a try."
He nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," you replied, smiling back down at him. "Now just close your eyes and try to relax. Let your thoughts drift you away."
Astarion blinked, his long lashes fluttering against his pale skin. He looked at you with a mix of surprise and skepticism, clearly hesitant to follow your lead. But he didn't protest, didn't push your hands away. Instead, he nodded slightly, closing his eyes once more.
You watched him closely, noticing how the tension in his jaw gradually subsided and the creases on his forehead smoothed out little by little. You continued gently massaging his temples, the rhythmic movements soothing both of you.
The change in his demeanor prompted a fluttering sensation in your stomach that you hastily shrugged away, reminding yourself not to read too much into it.
Eventually, you started running your fingers through his hair and Astarion let out a contented hum, adjusting himself slightly in response. You could have sworn he was purring, and it seemed like he had fallen into a deep slumber.
By the end of the night, you were asleep with your hands still gently stroking his head.
From that moment, a subtle tension seemed to linger between the two of you. It was unspoken, but present every time you were alone together. Astarion would ask for your help to fall asleep each night, and without fail, he would drift off quickly and sleep soundly. You loved watching him relax under your touch, feeling his body go limp and his soft sleepy sounds. But more than that, you enjoyed drifting off with your fingers tangled in his soft curls, your heart feeling light and at ease in his presence.
However, the perils of your journey became worse as your party reached the Underdark. Your main concern became avoiding attacks from shadow monsters, leaving little room for any attention to whatever connection was building between you two.
One night, as you approached Astarion's tent, you noticed him sitting cross-legged in front of his small mirror. His brow was furrowed and his expression was one of deep contemplation. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should disturb him or not.
"Looking at something?" he suddenly asked.
You jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, not expecting him to break the silence.
"How did you see me?"
"The only benefit to a mirror when you have my condition. It doesn't quite make up for the lack of a reflection, mind you."
And then it clicked. He couldn't see his own reflection. Why hadn't it occurred to you before?
"Do you miss it? Your own face, I mean."
Of course he did, what a stupid question.
"Preening in the Looking Glass? Petty vanity?" Astarion scoffed, "Of course I miss it."
Astarion's tone was bitter, his gaze fixed on his reflection-less face in the mirror. You sat down next to him, mirroring his position.
"I've never even seen this face not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red"
So he hadn't seen his face in over 200 years. You couldn't imagine what that must feel like. To not have seen your own face in over two centuries. To be unable to remember how it even looked like.
After your conversation, ideas began to circulate in your mind. You considered asking Gale to use his magic to transform your appearance to match his, but that would only be temporary. You wanted something more permanent that would allow him to admire his own face whenever he pleased. The thought of enchanting his mirror so that it would reflect his image crossed your mind. Surely there had to be a spell for that. However, time was limited and you were unsure how much you could dedicate to the task anyway. Then, an answer presented itself at the Last Light Inn when you encountered an artist on your way.
"How long would it take for you to paint a portrait?"
"Like, a month?"
"I will pay you triple if you finish it in a week."
Although the artist was hesitant, the promise of triple payment was too tempting for him to turn down. And so, a week later, you returned to Astarion's tent with a canvas in hand. He arched an eyebrow in question.
"What is this?" Astarion asked, gesturing towards your offering. "Another gift? At this rate, my tent will be overflowing with your generosity."
You grinned and gently set the canvas on the floor in front of him. A delicate, sheer fabric covered its surface.
"This is a special one, though."
His eyes glossed over with a mixture of curiosity and amusement as he leaned forward to unwrap it. An expectant silence filled the tent, the only sound being the rustle of fabric as he carefully lifted the veil. The sight that greeted his gaze left him momentarily speechless - an exquisitely painted portrait of a man, elegantly handsome with sharp, angular features and piercing red eyes.
"What is this?" Astarion asked with a chuckle, clearly admiring the artwork."You've given me a portrait of a handsome stranger? How thoughtful, dear. But the quality could be better, honestly."
Your heart pounded in your chest as you whispered, "That's you," holding your breath for his reaction.
There was a tense moment of silence as Astarion stared at the portrait. You couldn't quite read his expression, and your heart started to race with anxiety. Had you made a mistake? Was he displeased with the gift? Maybe you were intruding too much in his personal life...
After what felt like an eternity, Astarion finally spoke. "This is... me?" His voice was barely above a whisper, almost disbelieving.
You nodded, tears welling in your eyes.
"Yes. I wanted you to have something that would allow you to see yourself again, so I asked an artist at the Last Light Inn to paint you."
His fingers traced over the painting, brushing lightly over the likeness of his own face, his own eyes - red now - but still his. He took a step back as if he'd been hit, staggering slightly. There was a moment where he just stood there, staring at the man in the portrait - at himself.
"Is this... is this how I look now?" He asks, voice barely audible.
You swallowed hard and nodded, "Yes."
"I..." he started, then stopped. Shaking his head, he turned towards you with a conflicted look in his red eyes. "I... don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," you told him reassuringly, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
He looked at you for a long moment before nodding and squeezing your hand back. A tear trickled down his cheek and he quickly wiped it away, but not before you saw it glistening in the dim light.
"Thank you," he said finally. It's quiet, almost lost in the silence of the tent, but the sincerity in his voice is unmistakable. You smiled at him, feeling a wave of relief and happiness wash over you.
"You're welcome," you whispered softly.
Astarion's crimson eyes shimmered with tears as he gazed at the painting, struggling to maintain his composure. You gave him a reassuring smile before turning around to give him some space to process his thoughts and feelings. But just as you were about to leave, he reached out and took hold of your hand, stopping you.
"Don't go" he said solemnly. "Please don't go... I'd like to... I want..." slowly, he stepped closer to you and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug.
You were taken aback for a moment but then quickly melted into his embrace. After a moment of silence, the vampire spoke softly, his voice raspy.
"I don't know... how to repay you, I..." he murmured into your hair.
"You don't have to," you whispered back, feeling overwhelmed by his sudden display of emotion.
After what felt like an eternity, Astarion finally pulled away slightly so that he could look into your eyes. His eyes were moist with tears, but they also held a glimmer of hope, happiness. You couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling a wave of warmth spread throughout your body from the simple touch. And in that moment, you realized just how deeply you had fallen for this man. It wasn't just a matter of caring anymore; you were deeply and irrevocably in love with him.
And you would tell him, you decided. You would let him know that he didn't owe you anything because you had acted out of love. Your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your veins. His eyes were still on yours, searching, questioning.
"Astarion...," you started, your voice soft and filled with emotion, "I need to tell you... I..."
However, just as you were about to spill your heart, the sound of someone calling for you pierced through the quiet atmosphere of the tent. With a sigh, you reluctantly untangled yourself from Astarion's arms.
"I'm afraid that's my cue."
He gave a silent nod, his eyes reflecting a mix of conflicting emotions.
"Sure, sure. Wouldn't want to interrupt your exciting duties as our esteemed leader."
You rolled your eyes with a small smile and got out of the tent. However, there was a feeling of disappointed and regret for not being able to express your true feelings to him. You made a mental note to tell him later when you had the chance.
But that night, Astarion didn't come to his bedroll. Nor the next one. Or the one following. You sensed he was putting some distance between you as if something had changed. He continued with his blatant flirting and sly remarks, of course. They just seemed... mechanical. Every time you tried to talk about your feelings, he would deflect or change the subject. Days turned into weeks and still nothing changed between you two. Astarion remained distant and aloof while you struggled with your own emotions, feeling confused and rejected.
One morning, you woke up with a heavy weight on your chest. You initially dismissed it as the usual feeling of sadness that had been lingering for a week now. But after a whole day of choking on your own breath and dizziness, mixed with a deep pounding in your head, you knew this wasn’t the case. Despite your condition, you pushed through the day, determined not to be seen as weak or unreliable by your group.
However, as time passed, it became increasingly difficult to hide your worsening state from everyone else. Your coughing spells were becoming more frequent, and your body was weakening rapidly. You could sense Astarion's worried stare on you from time to time, but he never approached you to inquire about your condition.
That all changed one morning when you couldn't even muster the strength to get out of bed. Your entire body was in pain and your fever was soaring. You heard footsteps approaching your bedrolls and prepared yourself for one of your companions coming to check on you (or more likely, tell you off). However, it was Astarion's smirking face that came into view.
"Well, well, well," he said with a teasing tone, "Seems like our fearless leader is not feeling so fearless anymore. Feeling lazy today, are we?"
You managed to roll your eyes, laying your arm back over them to shield from the morning sunlight peering in through a hole in the tent. "If by lazy you mean sick, then yes." Your voice was weak and raspier than usual. You coughed into your arm, the action causing your body to shake and shudder with discomfort.
"Hmm..." Astarion's voice was no longer teasing. "That doesn't sound good, darling."
His gaze was intense when he leaned down to press his hand against your forehead. You suppressed a shiver at the unexpected coolness it brought and tried to turn away from him. He didn't let you, pushing your hair away from your face with his other hand.
"You're burning up," he said, moving away from you but not before you saw the worry flash briefly in his eyes. He stood up abruptly and started pacing around your bedroll, "What can I do?" He asked more to himself than you.
"Nothing… I just need… rest..." You managed to respond before another coughing fit washed over you.
Astarion shook his head "I'm going to get Shadowheart and Halsin. They will know what to do."
Astarion hurried out of the tent, and surely a few minutes later he came back bringing your two companions. As Halsin handed you the potion and Shadowheart casted her healing spells, Astarion's hand brushed against yours briefly before pulling away.
"Thank you," you whispered weakly before passing out.
A few hours later, after resting and drinking more disgusting beverages than you could count, your fever had finally subsided a bit and your coughing fits were less frequent. Astarion stayed by your side through the whole ordeal, a comforting silhouette against the flickering candlelight. You closed your eyes and felt his cold hand soothingly stroke your forehead. The cool, comforting touch of his skin against yours was a relief from the fever heat radiating off your body.
"Feel any better?" Astarion asked, raising an eyebrow.
You attempted a smile, "Well, I'm not dead yet."
His lips twitched in response, a semblance of his usual smirk flickering across his handsome face. "Good. That would be inconvenient for my dietary needs."
Despite feeling weak and exhausted, you couldn't help but chuckle. It was a welcome distraction from the constant throbbing pain in your head and rattling chest.
He shifted awkwardly on his seat next to you, looking almost hesitant, before he started speaking again. "I... I was scared of losing you," he admitted, "And I have to confess something."
His usually confident and cocky demeanor was replaced with an almost childlike uncertainty.
"What is it?" You asked, your voice still weak but full of concern.
He sighed heavily before meeting your gaze.
"I had a nice simple plan; to manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me. And honestly, I thought it would be so easy, with you being so open, so eager to care for everyone..." He frowns, "But that is the thing. You are so kind, so thoughtful. No one's ever cared for me the way you have. And... I don't know how to handle it."
You reached out and grasped his hand, squeezing it gently. "I understand," you said softly. "It's not easy to let someone take care of you, but you don't have to push me away. You deserve love and happiness just like everyone else."
He nodded, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I want to try," he said, determination flickering in his gaze. "I want to let you take care of me. And I want to take care of you, if you let me."
You smiled at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words.
"Of course. But first, I feel like I need to tell you something too." You took a deep breath before continuing, "I...I think I'm falling in love with you."
He looked at you puzzled, before letting out a loud laugh.
"Oh, my love. I already knew."
You were taken aback by his words. "What? You did?"
He rolled his eyes "Dear, you were hardly subtle about it. A portrait? Essential oils? Come on..."
You couldn't help but laugh at his response, feeling relieved and embarrassed all at once.
"I guess I'm not as sneaky as I thought," you said, shaking your head.
"But I'm not better." He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "I've been falling for you since the moment you started leaving books on my bedroll."
With that, he closed the distance between you and pressed his lips against yours in a soft kiss. It was like a spark igniting, sending waves of electricity through your body. In that brief moment, all the emotions and tensions that had been building between you seemed to dissipate into thin air. The softness of his lips against yours was like a warm embrace, melting away any doubts or fears you may have had.
When you both pulled away, you rested your forehead against his and whispered, "You are going to get ill now."
He chuckled, "How fortunate I am already dead then."
Yet, in that moment, the gleam of his eyes made him seem more alive than you had ever seen him.
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ariestrxsh · 5 months ago
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⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, humiliation, degradation, sneaking around, use of sex toy, edging, ruined orgasm, enemies to lovers, bratttamer!matt, mean!matt, roughdom!matt
📝 author's note: 📝 here are parts one and two. i'm sorry i kept you guys waiting so long for part three. please enjoy and please read the other two stories for build up and context. :)
✍️ Summary: ✍️ After staying the night in a heated sexual encounter with your arch nemesis, Matt Sturniolo, the two of you now have to keep up the charade in front of his brothers.
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hatef--k part three
The rest of the night was calm. Matt helped me move my laundry along, gave me back my clothes, and apologized for being a dick. "Hey, I'm sorry about hiding your towel and shit. That was kinda the meanest thing I've ever done to you," Matt smiled, probably recalling what it led to. It was actually the first time Matt had ever apologized to me for anything.
"Don't be sorry. I liked it. And if you're sorry, that's kind of a turn off," I looked up at him with a twinkle in my eye and a devilish grin plastered on my face, still riding a high from the incredibly passionate sex we'd just had.
"But you seemed legit mad," he looked at me, confused. "Well, I was mad. And I liked it. Both things are true. That's part of the game, isn't it?" I rhetorically asked. Matt smirked at me.
He knew exactly what I was talking about. It was just the first time either of us had really acknowledged the dynamic for what it was. If Matt and I really didn't like each other, we'd feel indifferent in the other's presence. But the only difference between disliking someone and hating them is passion.
Matt still did little things to frustrate me and tease me the rest of the night, like constantly moving my phone in random places, or tapping me on one shoulder but standing behind me on the opposite side. I'd roll my eyes at him and slug him in the arm, but there was something about the banter that was more playful than before.
"Did you wanna sleep with me in my bed tonight?" Matt asked, avoiding eye contact and fidgeting with his rings. "Why the fuck would I wanna do that?" I asked, but I was smiling.
"Because you're a little whore, and you might want something to rub up against while you're dreaming about how I just fucked you," Matt teased me, tickling my side. "Only if you keep your hands to yourself, perv," I joked back.
I fell asleep next to Matt in his bed that night. We did try to keep our hands to ourselves, but there were a few times in our slumber where I felt him poking me in my backside with his cock, and I did find myself mindlessly rubbing up against his hip bone like a dog in heat.
Finally, around 9 a.m. the next day, I woke up to the sunshine pouring into Matt's room, and I rolled over to greet him. He looked like he had also just woken up, and his eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the brightness.
"You know, I was joking when I told you I thought you were gonna rub up against me in your sleep, but you actually did it. Fucking whore," Matt teased me in his morning voice and let out a mean chuckle. "Yeah, and when I told you to keep your hands to yourself, I meant your hard on, too, perv," I rolled my eyes at him and smiled, intoxicated by the sleepiness that lingered in his words.
We heard a few noises downstairs, indicating someone had just walked in the door. Matt and I looked at each other wide-eyed, and I immediately jumped out of his bed, grabbing anything that was mine or anything that indicated I might have slept in there and booked it to Nick's room.
I frantically threw the blankets and pillows about on the bed to make it look slept in, splashed some cold water on my face in the bathroom, and stepped out to see Nick ascending the stairs in a white t-shirt, jeans, a leather jacket, and sunglasses. He always looked like a movie star. "Oh, hey. Good to see you awake. And alive," Nick laughed, stopping in the hallway. "Yeah, good to see you too," I lied.
I was definitely hoping to get another round with Matt in before either brother got home.
"Is Matt up yet?" Nick asked, motioning towards Matt's closed bedroom door. "Hmm. I don't know. Haven't seen him since last night," I lied again. Nick glided across the carpet and made his way to his room. "Jesus, was the bed comfortable? It looks like a tornado hit in here while you were sleeping," Nick joked, looking at the sheets in complete dissaray. "No, your bed was great!" I lied once more.
I had no idea if his bed was comfortable or not, considering the first time I'd stepped into his room was two minutes prior.
"I slept fine. I guess I just toss and turn a lot," I nervously laughed. Matt abruptly opened his door, startling me. My face grew hot, and my breath grew shallow. I could hear my heart thumping quickly in my chest, afraid Nick would pick up on the sudden energy shift between Matt and me.
"Hey Nick," Matt said, rubbing his eyes. "Good to see you guys didn't kill each other while we were gone," Nick said. "She tried, actually. Good thing I'm a light sleeper," Matt joked. "Move out of the way, freak. You're blocking the bathroom," Matt said, pushing past me. "Make sure you spend extra time in there. You look like shit," I responded rudely.
"Was he mean to you?" Nick asked after Matt closed the door behind him. "Not anymore than usual," I nonchalantly said. I don't know, Nick, do you consider your brother throwing me up against the wall and choking me and calling me a slut while he fucked me, mean? Because I don't know how to answer any of your questions right now.
Nick was one of those people I never lied to, but in just the past five minutes, I'd fabricated all my answers. I didn't like the act of lying, but I got excited at the idea of having a secret that nobody knew about besides Matt and me.
My phone, placed strategically on Nick's nightstand, started buzzing. It was a call from the company who was working on my water issue. "Hello?" I picked up the phone. "Hey, miss. Your water is back on, and it's all good to go. Sorry for the inconvenience," the man said over the phone. "Oh, no problem. Thanks for the update," I responded, staring Nick in the eyes, and I hung up.
"Damn," I fake sighed. "They said it's gonna be at least another day until I have running water in my apartment." Why stop lying now? "Don't worry about it. Why don't you just stay here another night?" Nick suggested, which was exactly what I was hoping he'd say. "We'll just have Matt drive you over to your apartment and get anything you need," he told me. I like the way you think, Nick.
"Oh, yeah. Matt will love that," I said, rolling my eyes but also smiling because I loved pissing him off. "What will I love?" Matt asked, walking out of the bathroom and past Nick's room. "Hey Matt, my water's still out, and Nick here, just offered to have you drive me over to my place real quick, so I can pick up some things I'll need to stay here another night. You don't have a problem with that, do you?" I taunted him, batting my eyelashes and smiling.
"I'd rather shoot myself in the foot, but I'll do it for my wonderful brother here who loves to help people by volunteering me to help them," Matt slapped Nick on the back and gave him a look. "Let's go, brat," Matt rolled his eyes and motioned for me to come towards him. Matt pushed the front door closed on me as I trailed behind him out to the yard. "Fuck you, Matt," I muttered.
Once we were outside and Nick couldn't hear us, Matt turned around, held me by my neck, and said, "What the fuck did you just say to me?" I loved the feeling of his fist tightening around my throat while he spoke to me through gritted teeth. "I said, fuck you, Matt," I repeated. "I'm gonna make you pay for that one later," he smirked, loosening his grip and getting into the car. Jesus, way to make me instantly wet, Matt.
I hopped into the passenger seat, Matt connected his phone and started playing some music, but as soon as he pulled out of the driveway, I disconnected his phone and started connecting my own. "What the fuck!?" Matt yelled, pushing my hands away from the display monitor.
"Hey, both hands on the wheel," I smiled, tickling his side and causing him to swerve. "You're gonna make me crash," Matt barked at me. "You're gonna make yourself crash. You focus on driving. We're listening to TV Girl," I said, putting on 'Cigarettes out the Window.'
"Whatever. At least it's not as annoying as some of the shit you listen to," he rolled his eyes. We pulled up to my apartment. "Wait here. I'll be just a few minutes," I told him. I didn't need much, just a pair of lounging clothes, since all the laundry over at the Sturniolos' was either gymware or my work clothes, so I picked out a tank top and shorts to sleep in. And my vibrator. God, I needed my vibrator. I knew it would be risky, but in case I didn't get to fool around with Matt that night if everyone was home, at least the vibrator was a less risky route.
As soon as I went to reach for it off the top shelf in my closet, I felt a presence come up behind me, and I immediately whipped around. "Jesus, Matt. You scared the fuck out of me," I said embarrassed as I tried to hide my vibrator behind my back. "What do we have here?" Matt said walking up to me as if he were going to hug me, but he reached around my waist and grabbed my vibrator from behind me. "Is this what you use when you think about me?" Matt teased me, examining it.
"Shut the fuck up, Matt," I rolled my eyes at him. "You know, the funniest thing happened when I walked in," Matt whispered. I looked at him inquisitively, unsure of what he was going to say next. "I turned on your faucet, and your water is just fine," Matt replied.
"I know. They called me this morning. I lied to Nick," I admitted, looking away from him. "Why'd you lie?" Matt asked, raising his eyebrows, thinking he already knew the answer. "Oh, you know, trying to save a few bucks on my water bill this month," I giggled and bit my lip.
"Bullshit. I think you were gonna prance around my house, wearing this little white tank top with no bra and these little shorts," Matt said, pointing at my clothes on the bed, "and I think you were gonna tease me all fucking night, and I'm sure you were gonna plan for me to catch you using this on yourself, huh?" He held my vibrator in front of my face. "Anything for me to fuck you silly again, huh? Are you that desperate for my cock?" Matt replied in a condescending tone. God, he was turning me on.
"Stand fucking still, you cheap little whore," Matt ordered me while he pulled down my bottoms, including my underwear. He stood behind me, his hot breath hitting the side of my neck. With one hand, he held my arms behind my back, restraining my wrists and with the other, he turned on my vibrator. Having been stripped down to nothing but my t-shirt and having Matt hindering any movement of my arms while he studied my favorite sex toy brought me to a whole new level of humiliation, and I couldn't get enough of it.
He rested my buzzing toy on my cunt, and I immediately felt my knees grow weak. He leaned in and whispered, "You're such a naughty girl. Lying to Nick. Telling me to go fuck myself. Running around my house being a little tease." I looked up at him lingering over my shoulder and let out a few soft whimpers. "You like making me angry, don't you? You love being punished when you misbehave, huh?" He cooed, and I bit my lip and nodded. "What would Nick say, knowing you lied to him so you could have another chance to get dicked down by me, huh? What do you think he'd think of you, hmm?" He teased me.
I felt the vibrations torturing my clit, reverberating throughout my being, and inching me closer to the edge with every word Matt gruffly whispered in my ear. My moans became more fervent and more desperate. "Please, Matt. I'm so close," I softly responded.
"Well, isn't that a damn shame?" He said, letting go of my wrists and turning off my vibrator, ruining my orgasm. "Put your clothes back on, whore. We should get back before Nick wonders what's taking so long," Matt smirked at me and handed me back my toy.
taglist: @sturniolo-girl @st9niolos @theyluvme-2315 @luvs4matt @mattsbrowser @ribread03 @slutforsturnioloss @inlovewcock
part four posted here 💖
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lady-ashfade · 1 year ago
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so this one i stole again lol from your list. “Please go on a date with me.”
basically percy notices the reader and tries to impress her by doing crazy ridiculous things but she’s not interested because she thinks his ego is too big. finally she comes around when she sees he got hurt doing something for her to notice him. i hope that makes sense.
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Falling for you- Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader
-£ words: 900 words
-£ Warnings: Short story, Simp Percy, cute crushes, reader being a bit mean to him, percy get it hurt, fluffy fic
-£ taglist: @kazurami14 @anonymouslyawesome25 @american-idiot21
the son of poseidon was persistent.
no matter how many times you told him off, or set him running with his head running, or you leaving him alone. he always kept coming back. Percy was often knocking his opponent down in training hoping you’d see him. he did everything to try and get your attention.
his back legs curled around a tree branch where you normally took your daily stroll, he was hanging down with a huge smile on his face and his cheeks glowing red. “percy.” you greeted with a uninterested tone. he just kept that annoying big smile, “lovely day isn’t it?” the only thing you did was roll your eyes and continue to walk down the dirt path. “And you’re ruining it.”
when he first arrived at camp, he already had some sort of glory after defeating a minotaur. he just kept finding his way in danger and saving the day, time after time. but his stupid smirk or smile told you he was too full of himself. he’d making the lake waves move, or make them a shape of something. no matter what, he was showing off.
and boy did you hate it.
somehow he find his way to you and that annoyed you, it was just too much. honestly you didn’t even realize he was trying to get your attention and just thought he was showing off to everyone. and certainly you didn’t know he had a crush on you. all you noticed was his ego.
but he noticed everything about you.
the way you walked, if you held your head up high or at the ground. how pretty your face shined when the sun shined on it, and how your smile shined even brighter. he was constantly chasing after you, he was craving to get your attention. most of the time he just did what popped up in his head which for someone like him, and you, was always dangerous and over the top. he lacked self control.
how someone could be so beautiful he couldn’t understand. even when you fought, he was entranced. you could be the worst fighter and he’d stare at you like the stars in the sky. his heart belonged to you.
but this time, he had gone to far.
“you’re a idiot,” you push his head under the water as you clothes get wetter by the second of sitting in the water. the bruising on his skin and the cuts going along with it only made your heart ache worse. his stunt didn’t go so well this time, hints his fracture wrist. he took a deep breath as he came back up even though he could breath under the water. he just wasn’t thinking straight.
sitting yourself back down on the sand you click your tongue. he had challenged you to a fight with that same attitude, the same smirk, the same slick tone. he got a little to distracted near the edge. he walked backwards with his sword held pointed at you, “look at us spending time together, we should do this more often.” he really should have watched his steps because his foot finally slipped and he took a tumble down onto the rocks. you watch him slide down, his grunts of pain and the way his body sounded made you cringe
lucky he landing on the shore line and only a few feet away from the water. which is were you two stay now catching your breath and thinking to yourself. why did you care if he was actually hurt or not? not like he would die or stay injured because he always got back up. why did his smile finally get to you back then?
and why was your stomach sick.
as you thought to yourself percy watched again like he always found himself doing. he loved the look on your face when you were deep in thought. and now that your face was wet and hair hanging down he couldn’t stop himself from falling deeper for you.
“please go on a date with me.” his words cut you out of thought.
your eyes grow bigger and look at him shocked and startled. you couldn’t believe your ears. he just asked you out on a date…percy jackson asked you out. the cocky, dumb, arrogant demigod was talking to you. Why, you hate his guts and always made fun of him. he jumped up from the water and you saw his teeth pinch the inside of his mouth anxiously.
“Sorry,” he sighed. “it just came out. I’ve been trying to ask you out for weeks but i couldn’t work up the courage to ask you out, I’m not good at this type of thing.” percy jackson lacking courage? that made you laugh. you looked up at him, the sun shining behind him as his hand now extended to you offering to help you up. any other time you would have smacked it away and cursed at him to leave you alone.
“I know you probably think I’m a total idiot which is true but, I really like you. If you really don’t want anything to do with me then I respect your wishes.”
but now you realize that you actually enjoyed his company. he made camp fun and exciting. and boy, was he handsome now that you really look at him. “alright, beach boy.” you grabbed ahold of his hand as he pulls you up. your body pressed into his and knocked him back a bit but his arm grabbed ahold of your waist to steady you.
inches away from his face your lips curled in a small smirk, “You got yourself a deal.”
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bunny-jpeg · 5 months ago
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hii! brownies with a side of martini with lando for me please 🤭
bakery menu
want to suggest your own order? look at the menu! i'm constantly writing up orders! i even accept for fandoms outside of formula one!! as for this suggestion, i am really liking that people really want mafia au lando, it's very nice and allows me to think a little more outside the box with the au! i just don't want them all read the same, right? this won't be the last time you'll see lando in a mafia au!! i hope you enjoy this!! <3
brownies ("you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours.") + martini (mafia au) served by lando norris (formula one)!
cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, enforcer!lando, baker!reader, kitchen sex, oral sex (reader receiving), affectionate!lando, mentions of au typical violence
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"these are amazing, honey." lando groaned as he took a bite of the warm brownies you just made. it was comfort food in a way. you always know how to make them perfectly.
you leaned against the counter of the kitchen, you watched your boyfriend devour a piece of the treat with excitement, you sighed, "i don't know. i think it's a little too sweet."
"no way, impossible." he said, "these are going to sell like crazy at the shop. can i have another one?"
you chuckled, and leaned towards him. you wiped a bit of stray chocolate off the corner of his mouth, "you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours."
he beamed at you, "well of course." he then snaked an arm around your waist and kissed you on the cheek, "anything of yours that goes into my mouth would shut me up.
this would look like a true domestic scene. a young couple in love, sharing a late night treat on a thursday. but if someone looked closely at the tattoos on your lover's arms. they would know that he wasn't the prince charming on a full rise scholarship to a university. he was an enforcer for the mclaren family.
lando could fight. that was his whole job, he told you about growing up and the brawls he'd get into. he always told you how many he won and told you not to worry at the number his loss.
when he walked down the street and people saw the tattoos along his arms and the cigarette tucked behind his head. they thought he was big trouble, when you two walked together you often got double-takes from people. why was someone like you, with someone like him.
and while you'd go into detail about how much of a caring lover he was. how much he adored you, all the times he brought you home flowers and kept a polaroid photo on you in the back of his jean pocket. there was something undeniable about lando that made you blush.
he was really good in the bedroom.
not that it was the only good thing about him! he went above and beyond anything any other boyfriend had done for you. he was your ray of sunshine. he made sure his woman was taken care of.
you got up onto the counter after you got your sweatpants and panties off. you knew you should be heading to bed soon for another long day at work. but lando was insistent that he made sure that the love of his life got a proper thank you for making him such a nice treat when he came home.
"double chocolate is great and all." he as he got closer to you. bent over to get between those thighs of yours. he held your legs open and licked his lips, "but, it's nothing like your pussy." he chuckled before he pressed a kiss at your slit.
you held onto the edge of the counter while he started to lick at your sex. his tongue between your pussy lips. he groaned against you as he held onto your hips.
lando was a dangerous man, you had heard whispers through the area you lived in about how evil he was. there was a story about him taking out a guy's teeth tooth by tooth and then smashing his jaw.
he could be intimidating, those eyes could go from friend to sharp in mere seconds. his hands were lined with scarring from other the years and many of his tattoos covered up the other scars.
he'd walk around the main street in nothing but a tank top, loose jeans and a gold chain, his face card never failed and his wit was unmatched. but when he stumbled up the bakery you worked at one day, it was like his entire life changed.
now he was between your legs with his tongue up against your pussy. his nose rubbed against your clit which made you clench up. you held onto the back of his head and guided him up against your pussy. the pleasure was a steady throb that made you flushed.
he was in love with you, if he had to describe the feeling. it was like his heart was whole. that the pieces of him were glued back together by your love. and he in turn wanted to give all his love to you.
"please, lando." you said softly as you ran your fingers through his hair, "you know exactly how to do it." you shuddered at the pleasure in your body.
"only the best for you." he said softly, "only the best." before he gave your thigh a little love tap before he continued to lap at your pussy. you held onto him tighter and his cock twitched in his sweats.
you held onto his curly hair tightly and whined a little. you tensed up as you came, finishing on his tongue. the noises you made had lando feeling good all over. he worked quickly to send you right over the edge. when you nails grazed along his scalp his brain turned off for a moment.
"shit." he grumbled against your slit.
you relaxed after a few moments and panted heavily. you rested up against the cabinets behind you and clung to your boyfriend for a moment longer.
he lazily licked at your sweet slit as he nosed at your clit. he was insatiable when it came to you. you then stroked the back of his head lovingly. he groaned a little at the soft touch.
lando was a mafia enforcer, he hurt people for a living. but his true weakness was his baker girlfriend and her lovely desserts. <3
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cloveroctobers · 5 months ago
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HOW THEY DEAL WITH DISRESPECTFUL NEIGHBORS — MULTI [Summer Preferences]
A/N: thanks for voting on my poll, which I already knew who was going to win that but I still wanted to do a preference anyway since I never got around to writing what I originally wanted for my other characters on my summer prompt list rip to that idea! I’m writing in the order of which was voted from most to least highest minus one character.
WARNINGS: language, violence is sometimes the answer 🤭 + FC changed for Mikey due to recent news unfortunately, *GIF DOES NOT BELONG TO ME, not here to argue with anyone that feels different and you’re always welcome to keep imagining JB or simply do not engage with this.
<- read my previous summer anthology prompt here.
࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪
~ARMANDO~
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He doesn’t take disrespect lightly.
The both of you lived just fine in your condo out in Miami, although Armando preferred the privacy more than anything he just kept this to the back of his mind that he was going to provide for your dream house together. Having your four year old daughter, Isaura only gave him more drive to get out of here.
The neighbors that lived on the floor directly above you, were all wide smiles and friendly making it their special job to try and introduce themselves to whoever they caught. They found you three at the pool one Sunday evening before dinner. Armando immediately felt they were weird telling you later that night in bed beside you, “they look like they eat people.”
“Armando!” You scolded as you slipped a bonnet on a half sleep Isaura, “they do but maybe they’re just the over friendly type.”
Armando sucked his teeth as he reached around you to snatch the sleepy toddler into his chest, “niña, can you say oblivious? tell mama that’s exactly what she is.”
Isaura just shifted her head looking away from the both of you.
“See, even your own daughter doesn’t want to listen to your mess. Give me my baby back so I can put her down,” you waved your fingers while Armando swings his legs to the edge of the bed.
He shifts the tiny girl against him and shakes his head, “nah, I got it. Got to make sure the fucken weirdos aren’t hiding in her room since you don’t want to believe me.”
“Hey, watch your mouth!” You lecture while Armando rolls his eyes, peeking down to see if Isaura even budged at his foul language before you continued, “I don’t know what goes in your mind sometimes,” you sigh with a shake of your head as Armando makes his way to the door, “…now you know I’m going to be up half the night checking on her.”
“Don’t worry about it, daddy’s gonna take the daybed just in case.”
Frowning you respond, “So you’re just going to abandon me?”
Armando snorts, “there’s enough of me to go around but if you wanna stay hold up in here by yourself, when we have the hills have eyes lurking from the floor above, that’s on you.”
“Bastard.” You muttered just as Armando was about to shut the door.
“What was that, mami?”
“I said I’m getting my neck pillow.” You answered as Armando laughs to himself, leaving the door open just a crack before carrying on down the hallway.
Armando would peep the disrespect more than you would but mostly on separate occasions. First it started with the husband constantly taking Armando’s assigned parking spot with one of his many cars, he would always turn up right when Armando had to circle around to take someone else’s, and when he was face to face with the husband’s false apologies and story about how he had to keep his monster truck locked away in storage thirty minutes away from the building, yet he always decided to take it out when Armando worked late nights…which was pretty convenient if you asked Armando.
Then you would tell Armando how the wife would make…interesting comments about how many more kids you two planned to have. “Hopefully a soccer team with your good looks!” She would laugh as she gripped your wrist. She would also ask: How you two managed to have free time with a four year old and if she was receiving enough attention between the two of you? That last question was off putting because why was this woman worrying about your child? Then if you listened closely enough, around the time it was time for Isaura’s nap or bedtime, whether Mike, Marcus and his family, or your best friend or family were watching her while the both of you were at work, the couple would decide to either start salsa lessons (according to the wife, Amy) which ended up turning into salsa lessons with no clothes directly on the floor, the husband winked at Armando who was not the least bit impressed.
“I think it’s common courtesy that you two learn to keep it down for not only us who have a child…who also has a routine but for your other neighbors as well. I’m sure there’s plenty of classes out in town you two can get into outside of this building.” You hinted to them.
“Oh sorry! I told Kit we were being too loud, see honey?!” She weakly slaps the wannabe WWE star against his buff chest, “We’ll definitely keep everyone more in mind this time, again sorry about that.” Amy apologizes.
“A man has needs though, am I right?” Kit would laugh, clapping his hand down on Armando’s shoulder who peeked at it, wondering why this man was so comfortable touching him.
Armando sniffed, “and you need to have some respect is all that we’re saying. Along with removing your hand from me.”
“Hey now! No need for the animosity, we’re all friends here neighbor!” Kit says as he applies a little more pressure on his hold of Armando’s shoulder but that only causes Armando to darken his stare.
Even Armando knew that statement was fake. Next thing he knows, when he’s heading out to work the morning after, he’s got a broken side mirror on the driver’s side and a large scratch on the passenger door with Kit’s car—that’s usually parked to the right of Armando’s—already gone for the day. Armando doesn’t take long to assess the situation, jaw tight as he looks around the garage for where exactly the cameras are. He would be hacking those as soon as he clocked in and didn’t give a damn who had something to say about it. He ended up calling you on the way to work, thanks to him phoning Dorn to carpool—him and Kelly had a disagreement so she drove to work on her own—to tell you exactly what happened since it was one of those days where you clocked in earlier than he did.
“I’ll try and keep him from doing something stupid.” Dorn calls out to you from the driver’s side.
You whisper as you stepped out briefly from working with a client as an aesthetician, “would you? I know it’ll be hard—
“I’m right here.” Armando reminded, “I’m done dealing with their creepy asses, Kit better hope I don’t see him when I get home tonight because his ass might turn up missing.”
You didn’t even argue because once Armando had something made up in his mind, it was hard for him to ever see another perspective. Also you didn’t doubt that Kit had something to do with it.
The last straw was when Kit and Amy’s German shepherd nipped towards Isaura’s face, when you had a minor confrontation with Amy, who you ran into while out shopping. She tried to sweep over the fact that she admitted to wishing that it was Armando on top of her instead of her actual husband and that it wasn’t a big deal because Kit was doing the same with you. Not only did she fix her mouth to say that, she also said she thought about what a kid would look like with her looks and Armando’s. “There’s nothing wrong with daydreaming.”
She said and it felt like she had spit in your face at how wicked her smile was on her overfilled lips. Again she was too close in your space but once Isaura ripped a cry so loud below along with the sounds of snarling from Amy’s dog, you didn’t hesitate to pull your child up into your arms and to kick at the dog.
“What’s wrong with you?!” Amy yelled pulling on her pet’s leash, “He’s just an animal!”
“An animal who tried to bite my kid’s face off! You’re lucky my foot didn’t connect but next time my fist won’t miss yours.”
“Are you threatening me?!”
“It’s not a threat, It’s a promise.” You concluded, “Stay away from my family if you know what’s good for you.”
“Excuse me? What does that mean?” Amy kept a tight hold on the leash now, “These are the things Kit and I get for being good neighbors?!”
You stopped in your tracks as you turned to give Amy one last look while you cradled a scared Isaura to your chest, “it means exactly what you think it means. Y���all keep saying your good neighbors but is that in the building with us or in your sick delusions? I’m warning you Amy, back the fuck off or you’ll really be sorry.”
Amy sticks her nose up in the air, “my uncle is the best lawyer in the city. If you’re thinking about harming my family then I’ll sue both of you so hard that little Laura will have no choice but to have a new family. Kit and I have been trying for months for a little one and Laura is the cutest thing.”
Laughing you found it hilarious that Amy thought she could continue to try you with her mind games. She really didn’t know who she was fucking with.
“I can guarantee that your uncle doesn’t have shit on my man. Also my father-in-law is a pretty good detective and he’s already heard about you two, just waiting for the word. The difference between you and I, is that I love only one man. And sweetie, it’s no competition when I’ve already won. Now you enjoy the rest of your day…before it expires.” It was your turn to send her a sickeningly charming smile as you spun back on your heels.
Leaving her like a gapping fish, you make your way back to your car, strapping Issy in with another caress to her face, quadruple checking that the dog didn’t do anything to her face and handing Issy one of her toys to cuddle with on the way back home. As you started your engine, you immediately called Armando through the car’s Bluetooth before pulling off from the curb.
It’s game night when there’s a knock on the door. Since Armando is helping Issy with the game piece on the game board, you push off the couch to get the door.
“Oh hi!” You greet, which makes Armando also move to get to his feet.
“We’re your new neighbors on the floor above who just moved in and we wanted to say thanks for the blueberry crumble and bottle of wine you sent our way, you really didn’t have to do that! We just thought it would be the kind thing to find the time to come down and introduce ourselves.” The woman speaks first with her hand held out.
You grasp her hand with a warm smile as you say, “mostly everyone is to themselves here but we got…pretty close with our old neighbors and my boyfriend, Armando and I thought we’d keep the tradition going.”
Armando gives a short wave at the two new faces as he stands beside you now, “hello,” he addresses the two while he bounces a giggly Issy on his hip.
“Aw, she’s so precious! Isn’t she, Steven?” The girl at the door elbows the guy beside her.
You take in her expression carefully, “do you two have any kids?”
She jabbed a thumb at the taller man, “Oh I’ll leave that all to my brother here.”
“I don’t have any…at least no one’s ever told me anything.” He nonchalantly shrugged while he looked off in thought up from his phone, while his sister rolls her eyes at him.
Armando snickers, which makes you quirk up a brow at him.
“Do you guys know where the other tenants moved off to? The agent says it was pretty abrupt but we got a steal on most of their furniture.” The young girl chats.
Armando speaks up, “heard they really wanted to explore more of Europe…guess Miami living inspired them to see what else the world has to offer.”
“Sweet,” Steven nods, “that would be a dream.”
“That is what they say life is,” Armando adds as he sends a quick wink to you while you lightly shake your head at him. He then slips an arm around your waist appearing as a Kodak moment to the siblings outside the door, “but welcome to the neighborhood you two, I’ve got a feelin’ you’ll be good neighbors.”
In short: he eliminates the problem.
~RIO~
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He had been away on a business trip when he gets back home earlier than expected. He likes to do this sometimes, liking to surprise you with his pop-in’s—take that how you will. What he wasn’t expecting was his ex sitting in the sitting room with you, the two of you chatting to the right of the home from the foyer over a bottle of tequila.
“…so the hell are you gonna tell lollipop king?”
“Girl, who?”
“You know his name, Christopher!”
You laugh followed by a groan, “he’ll find out sooner than later since old man Stewart and him are practically golfing buddies who act like they don’t gossip.”
Rio used that moment to clear his throat from his leaned position against the doorway. He didn’t like how your guard was down as he just lingered there, you slouched on the couch and Rhea balled up in one of the living chairs but that was another conversation. He needed to know just what you were hiding from him and now.
“Tell me what, mama?” Rio rasped, hands clasped in front of him.
Rhea’s mouth formed into an O-shape, getting ready to collect her things but Rio cuts his eyes at the short haired woman too, “nah, you don’t gotta leave on my account.”
“Believe me I’m not,” Rhea sassed as she collected her square glass and the almost empty bottle, “I’m going to check on our son while you guys—debrief.”
You gasped, “this involves you too, you know?!”
“I don’t live here!”
“Could have fooled me.” Rio adds as Rhea makes her way by him, bumping her shoulder with his.
Rio just snorts as the woman heads across the hall towards the side entrance of the kitchen. When he sets his eyes back on you, he watched as you used one of your hands to pinch in between your brows as you pulled your bottom lip into your mouth. The buzzed haired man then plops down beside you, lolling his head to meet your gaze but you just quickly down the rest of your drink.
“What’s going on?” Rio questions.
You exhale, “oh nothing much, it’s good to see you though!”
“You’re tipsy on a Wednesday afternoon and not on wine…something’s up?” Rio analyzed you pretty quick, which was to be expected.
Exhaling you close your eyes, thinking if maybe you just dozed off then Rio would leave you alone and Rhea would sneak out with Marcus out the back. You knew that was a slim chance since that boy loved his father a lot and would want to see him before heading back home with his mom.
Your eyes were widened as Rio gripped your bandaged hand, making you wince as he did so. You were hoping that he wouldn’t notice but you couldn’t be that much of a fool, not when it came to your husband.
“I’m going to ask only one more time before I start looking for answers myself, so tell me what happened?” Rio quizzes one last time.
Sighing you meet Rio’s eyes as you tell him, “Polly’s mother is visiting and she started shit with Marcus while he was outside playing in the front yard. I was bringing the plants from the garage up front when this all happened but Stewart saw it happening from his window and came out before I got up front. I handled it, she got HOA involved, and now apparently there’s a meeting on Saturday morning.”
The shift in Rio was instant as he sat up, still holding your hand in his lap, “she don’t even live here and she thinks she can say something to the kid? Did she do this to your hand? Give me the details, mama.”
And so you did. You told him how Marcus was running around out front keeping himself entertained while you were dragging the outdoor plants that you thought would look nice in the backyard up front from the garage. It took some time for you to pick up on the yelling, making the palm of your hand get impaled by one of agave leaves that you tossed to the ground at the familiar rebuttal of Marcus’ voice. Your instincts kicked in even if your hand bled like crazy and hurt like hell, you didn’t take kindly to strangers screaming at kids.
You were once an elementary school teacher before becoming a housewife to Rio. There was always a certain way that you needed to speak to people, especially kids and you weren’t having it with Polly’s mother who always visited in the summer. Polly was cool, even her mother-in-law was tolerable (although she was a yapper) but you just didn’t understand how someone like Polly had a mother as nasty as this Karen who was drilling into Marcus who she didn’t even know. In her mind she believed that Marcus specifically shouldn’t be playing around the sidewalk, that it was against the “rules” of this community that she wasn’t sure Marcus even belonged to and should be playing in a different area instead.
You guys had a fence but Marcus said that he hit the ball too far and it ended up on the sidewalk so that’s the only reason he came around the fence. You didn’t care what the reason was, he knew not to play near the street of the gated community but you trusted his word regardless and old man Stewart confirmed this with a nod of his head. He had the both of your back’s and you guys spent the holidays every so often at each other’s houses.
“It got ugly, babe. Told her to keep her finger out my face and to not ever speak to my kid like that again. She tried to chest bump my back so I turned around and shoved her on her ass. She’s lucky I didn’t smack the shit out her wal-mart Glenn Close looking ass. Which was enough ammo for her to call HOA but we’ve got cameras just as much as Polly’s got her ring camera so I’m not worried. I just didn’t want Marcus to deal with that bullshit.”
Rio ends up smiling at you and you widen your eyes at him. “I’m glad you find this amusing.”
“Oh it’s not—I’m just proud of you.”
“For not going to jail?”
Rio tilts his head to the side, “The verdicts probably still out on that one, knowing the kind of woman she is.”
“You’re right.”
“I’ll have to talk to Polly.” Rio decided as he caressed your fingertips.
“She’s already sent mountains of texts, she’s with us and says she’ll work on talking to her demon—I mean mother.” You can’t fight against the liquor but even still, you said what you said.
Rio nods, “you don’t even got to worry about the rest. I got us.”
“…do I want to know?”
“Nah,” Rio shrugged as he used his other hand to caress your face, “just continue being the best thing that happened to me. I know I don’t have to thank you but I want to, for looking at Marcus as your own.”
You laugh, “he’s a great kid, part of you, which makes me love you guys even more so of course I will—without question.”
Rio pulls you by the chin to his lips, which you’ve been missing all week and when he lets you slip your tongue into his mouth, he pulls back with a grin. “Later mama, I got to make sure you two are good first.”
“Huh?” Your eyes fluttered open as Rio holds your own hand up in front of your face to prove his point, “that’s just a scratch.”
“Our girl will be the judge of that.” Rio tells, “Can’t believe you didn’t try and sneak her over here.”
“Thought she was on business with you guys.”
“We got more than one medic, mama. I kept the best here with y’all.”
“How kind.”
“I’m a kind guy.”
“I don’t think the dust bag will think so when you’re finished spooking her.”
Rio doesn’t fight his grin but replies, “Who says I’m gonna do it? I got people for that but the message will be real clear.”
“Rio—
He shushes you as he pecks your lips once more, making you lean your forehead against his, happy that he’s home before he’s sending out a code to your number one medic girl to stop by the house ASAP.
the both of you break away as the thudding of steps decended down the steps, revealing Marcus who called out Rio’s name, who he needed further reassurance from.
“Hey bud,” Rio starts as he embraces the young boy before knocking their fist together, “you good?”
He slowly nods but Rio knows he’s not, although he had a feeling Marcus held his own. It usually took a lot to bring it out of him to defend himself but Rio would see for himself once he looked at the footage tonight.
“You know what? Let’s go play outside while the ladies finish up.” Rio gets to his feet and the slight panic in Marcus’ face is evident, making your heart break while Rhea tightens the folding of her arms.
Rio squeezed Marcus’ shoulder, “hey, when you’re with me you remember you’re the king of your own castle, aight? Nobody can tell you nothing, move how you wanna move and own it. This is your neighborhood too, you understand?”
“…yes dad.”
“Alright? I got goalie.”
Rio sends a firm look to you two ladies before he heads outside with Marcus right beside him.
He attentively analyzed the situation before deciding what else needs to be done. One thing you could never do was go against the family he built and that was always serious to him. Anybody that messed with his family, immediately became his target and if it had to be a part time neighbor from across the street?
So be it.
They’ll learn soon enough.
They always do.
~LUCA~
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“Babe! You’re not gonna believe this.” Luca calls out to you as he slams the front entrance door from down below shut, before making his way upstairs.
You can always tell when Luca’s home because he has a tendency to be heavy handed, always slamming the door that it tends to shake the house. It’s not something he purposely does, majority of the time he doesn’t even notice but it is a thing and even your neighbors in the townhouse to the left of you mockingly mentioned it.
They were assholes anyway and should be the last ones to talk about noise. Having loud company over every other day and some type of event at their home every other weekend, also crowding up the streets, without inviting you guys on multiple occasions. There were eight specific units on this street that were all grouped and managed underneath the same property and you would think they would also include you two. The both of you quickly learned that Chicago was much different than Copenhagen.
And what Luca remembered.
“I wouldn’t take it to heart and give it some time, yeah? Otherwise? They can piss right off!” Luca’s older sister that he’s reconnected with while being back in the states tells you two, laughing lightly as she’s helping you two unpack weeks ago.
You wouldn’t have if you didn’t decide to be neighborly, bringing them their mail when it accidentally got mixed in with yours, waving at them in passing as you chatted with the other residents, and then actually going over to introduce yourselves with a platter. It was all fraudulent and they just didn’t want to be bothered with you two, Luca gradually started to forget about it after finding a new position at one of the top three upscale restaurants in the city until you would bring it up. And of course he listened to anything that bothered you.
Their music was too loud for hours at a time sometimes until two in the morning on a week night, Luca would calmly address the situation to the guy of the household when he would get a hold of him on his way in from running around the city in sweats and a hoodie—yes in the middle of a scorching August, the both of you always had early mornings with you being a medical assistant down at the hospital and with Luca always having to do prep. You didn’t have the patience to stick around for the guy and his significant other never came to the door when you both knew she was home probably hungover.
Luca was friendly in his approach about it and at first, the athlete told Luca that they were just celebrating as much as they could before he was back on the road to get in the box yet he couldn’t help but to throw in a jab, “They do have these things called single family homes. Maybe you two should consider that.” In the end he said they’d try to keep it down. That still rubbed you the wrong way when Luca slipped up and told you that part.
Which only meant turning the music up even louder that the house rattled on their end. If their garbage was over filled, they would dump some of it into yours attracting raccoons but would then claim it had to be one of the other neighbors—you two had a ring cam, it wasn’t. The last straw was the fiancée drunkly pissing right in the path of your garage, which you stepped in the next morning when you were running late to work.
Humming you turn your attention from the street view of the balcony to Luca who stood in the doorway. You sat comfortably in the outdoor chair, paperback turned over on the table as you finished sipping at your fruit water.
“Hey baby,” you greet with a smile, relaxed and bare faced on your day off in the summer light as you held your face up for Luca to place a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth before he sat in the chair across from you.
Luca stretched his arms across the table as he greeted you back, “hello darling…you’re not gonna believe this!” He continues.
“What? That you suddenly caved and like Chicago dogs now?” You quizzed, folding your own arms as you leaned against the table, ready to listen.
Luca chuckles, “not likely, babe. Guess I won’t ever fit into their standards, yeah?”
“I think the world will still turn.”
“I think so too,” Luca agrees with a small smirk, “listen to this. I went to the bakery, the one Marcus is working part-time at now because of the whole thing with Carmy’s uncle—just to check on him you know? Guess who was also in there?”
You raise your brows after finding it sweet that Luca made it his mission to check in on Marcus. The two hit it off when Marcus trained underneath him for a couple of weeks back then and he’s been over to the flat a few times along with Sydney. Luca didn’t give you much time to guess since he was so adamant about telling you about his day. Usually when something was on Luca’s mind, his words went haywire out of excitement—depending what it was of course.
“Ryan!”
You blinked at the news of your boyfriend running into your problematic next door neighbor in slight confusion, “okay…a little surprised he likes baked goods since he gives the impression that he drinks egg yolks and eats raw meat for fun.”
It was Luca’s turn to furrow his naturally arched brows, “I’m not quite sure how you’ve gotten that idea and you might want to cut back on your time watching Santa Clarita Diet. It might help.”
You snort as you wave your fingers along for the now buzzed blond to continue. It wouldn’t be the first show that you watched where Luca passed judgment on. He is definitely the one to ask a thousand questions while you’re trying to watch something.
“Ryan told me, Leah was rushed to the hospital yesterday morning.” Luca informs you, “Want to know what for?”
Sitting back against the chair, you keep your arms crossed and fight the urge to roll your eyes, “…not particularly, no.”
Luca bites down on his bottom lip trying to hold it in but doesn’t, “she crapped out a parasite.”
Your mouth drops open, “You’re lying.”
“Honest to flavor town.” Luca does the praying motion before pointing to the sky and you knew it was serious business if he mentioned Guy Fieri.
Clasping a hand against your mouth you try to hide your snickers but Luca picks up on the fact that you found this a little too amusing.
“…what have you done?” He points an accusatory finger at you.
Lifting your shoulders, your lips twist around in laughter and you dared peeked back at Luca who was awaiting your answer. You wouldn’t leave him in the dark much longer, “fine! I sent a cleanse her way after all that day drinking and with my medical knowledge…I thought I’d give a helping hand.”
“Which means what?” Luca pressed, sitting back as well as he listened to you.
“I may have or may not have used the papayas that Grace left here before she went back to Texas when we went to that farmer’s market,” you slowly admit of your time with your old friend who came to visit with her baby girl Charlie, informing your boyfriend of the slight clues, “we both know I’m allergic and I didn’t want them to go to waste. So I made our lovely neighbors some papaya cereal with the seeds, put it up real nice in a jar for them to enjoy. Left it by their door and watched Ryan bring the bait in.”
Luca exhales, “you’re actually starting to scare me.”
“Remember that old nutritionist who’s heavily spiritual I told you about that we always end up seeing once a month at the hospital?” You ask while Luca nods his head, “she experienced the same thing partygirlLeah99 did but her’s was intentional.”
The bomb that you dropped had Luca clenching his eyes shut, “what you’re telling me is…you basically gave our neighbor some form of a laxative?”
“Just removed the toxins and clearly Leah has some. How many parasites was it?”
Luca shook his head, “no, no, no. We’re not just going to skip over the chaotic evil you’ve just done.”
You tilted your head to the side, “I think it was more lawful evil…maybe even good. She pissed on our property, Luca! And Ryan’s a dick.”
Luca holds his forehead now stressed, “Yeah and he can K.O. us if he really wanted to if he ever found out! He’s a professional boxer—
“I don’t care! Lessons need to be taught and he’s out of here in the fall anyway so that’s one less problem we have to deal with.” You shrug as you reach for your water again but Luca snatched it back.
He sighs, “we talked about this…you can’t just go and take matters into your own hands without discussing it with me first. I said I would talk to them about the peeing situation—
“You tried talking to them before! They don’t care about us, and sure they don’t owe us anything but I worked really hard on that charcuterie board, then they excluded us constantly and probably will do it again once Halloween comes around—
“So that’s what this is about? You’re worried about Halloween?” Luca questions, knowing it was one of your favorite Halloween parties.
“How dare they throw a summerween party when I’m the number one queen of the spooks!” You childishly turn your head to peek out into Chicago’s scenery from your first balcony.
Luca sips at your water now and exaggerates as he lets out an, “ah! That’s refreshing but I don’t know what to say about my girlfriend being upset over some people that we don’t even know well enough to care about their perceptions of us, if they even have any.”
Both of your professions caused you to be around all sorts of people, especially some downright mean ones but you both persevered. Luca would always take it as a learning curve, whereas you tended to take things more personal majority of the time. Yes you were the type to cry when angry, go ahead and sue your sensitive heart! Luca was only a little older than you and slightly better at communicating—when he wasn’t a nervous wreck—but you on the other hand tended to proceed with action rather than words or a conversation like Luca.
“Don’t say anything to me, just love me, choose me,” you playfully recite while Luca scoffs, “and wish those bitches an early happy Halloween, specifically from me to them. What she won’t know what hurt her.” You wink while Luca runs a hand over his buzzed summer look in shock.
“Well it actually did,” Luca frowns with his hands held out although you’re still unphased, “and doesn’t this count as assault?”
There goes the panic everybody!
You knew a good lawyer that shared the same blood as Luca (if it ever came to that) you weren’t worried and maybe you were chaotic evil after all? Depends who you ask.
Pouting you say, “Did she die?”
“No!”
“Then everybody wins!” You clap as you push back from the table, “So…What’s for dinner?”
“Not fucking papayas that’s for sure.” Luca states while you laugh, beginning to collect your things to bring back inside.
Luca sits outside for a moment longer, you briefly kiss his lips, him shaking his head at you afterwards once more as he whacks your backside before you head in to search the fridge, and he stares out into the city just wondering what else this place will bring.
Hopefully better understanding of being neighbors in the states!
MIKEY
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“The hell happened to you?” Mikey asks, sneaking up behind you in your kitchen.
Which wasn’t unfamiliar for him to do but you did let out a yelp as you stood by your coffee and tea counter. You turned to your old friend, who scanned his eyes all over your filth covered clothes.
“My neighbor Lorraine is mad that I called her son out for being a pervert. Then she tried to argue that my dog is barking at all times of the night so I don’t have the right to speak on her son!” You paced the floor.
Mikey crosses his arms, “well she isn’t too bright because that thing in there is far from a dog,” he starts while you give him the side eye for talking shit about your Maine coon, “and what’s this about a pervert?”
You sigh, “..her son is just this college dropout who’s apparently into astronomy and thinks I don’t catch him with his telescope set out on the front sidewalk, right where the living room window is, as if he’s gone camping with my body being the view!”
It wouldn’t be Mikey’s first time catching you streaking around the house either—that was your fault for giving him a key—but this random kid? He had a problem with.
Mikey rubs at his facial hair, “Was he the one that did this to you?”
You huff, “that little bitch ran as soon as mommy Lorraine thought it would be nice to dump her trash on me out in the courtyard.”
There was always something going on in your courtyard out back, whether it was random cookouts even in the winter!, residents fighting over which outdoor seating technically belonged to them (it didn’t belong to anyone, everybody at the condo had access to it), to Lorraine overpopulating the backyard with her garden and horrible smelling manure, and fires being started by the little kids for fun, Mikey can never say it’s a dull moment on Sunnyside Ave.
“…and what did you do?” Mikey questioned, his lips twisting at the corners, knowing he wasn’t the best influence, especially if the shoe was on the other foot.
Which you knew, hanging out with him, Richie, and even Michelle always had the potential go left very quickly.
“There’s onion juice or some shit in my eye,” you start using your wrist to wipe at your red eye before saying, “and if I somehow end up blind before I get in to my eye doctor this year…it’s a wrap for her.”
“So you’re going in for the silent kill?” Michael summarizes, “that leaves the creeper to me then, is he home? I’d love to have a talk with ‘em!”
He points towards the back door which leads out to the courtyard. You leap forward, latching onto Michael’s wrist, “which I’m sure you’ll get your chance but I see you bought something for me?”
Michael rolls his eyes as he glanced back at the counter that contained a bag, “you’re real observant aren’t ya?”
“I’m also hungry but I need to get this stench off me first.” You slap your hands beside your thighs.
He jokingly steps forward to take a whiff towards you, “…I wasn’t going to say anything but whew!”
“Shut up, Mikey!” You shove him back but he just laughs.
Mikey pinches a piece of your hair on your way by, pulling something from it, “looks like she got you good with some shallot skin and soil if you ask me! But I got a nice Cubano waiting for ya when you get out.”
Your mouth watered at the mention of your favorite sandwich Mikey always brought over to you every other Tuesday, “can’t wait for that baby to bring me the biggest serotonin.”
Mikey grins at you.
When you drag your eyes back to meet his you ask, “so how was your day, bub? Good?”
“Yeah! I think it’s going to be alright.”
You hold your hand out, “tell me about it?”
He takes your hand as you lead him to the bathroom. He sits on the toilet as you quickly get into your skincare, terrified of skin mites thanks to some shit Sugar sent to a group chat between you, her, and Michelle. Michael doesn’t mind watching you do your routine, falling into quiet chatter before you strip out of your clothes.
He tries not to let his stare linger but he always thought you were a goddess, even with your clothes on. The comfortability between you two was strong, that at times it felt like there was nothing to ever be afraid of, especially when it came to showing your most vulnerable selves to each other. It’s not long before he’s joining you behind the shower liner, helping each other clean away whatever the day held before you’re embracing each other, arms tucked underneath each others as your now loud conversation fights against the pressure from the shower head.
He tells you all about the possible new hire, her name being Tina and how he feels like she’ll be the one to keep Chicagoland on their toes and in shape. He’s got that spark in his eye when he talks about her, finding a connection and in hopes that she will turn up when she’s ready but he has no doubt that she will.
“Maybe you can call her for backup if you ever come face to face with string bean nose Lorraine.” Mikey jokes over the water.
You scoff, “if the garbage can actually hit me, Lorraine just might need to tap Tina in for her to get me off her ass!”
Mikey chuckles, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead before you tuck your head underneath his chin. If you could’ve, you would have held onto him for eternity.
But…that’s not the way life played out in later episodes.
When Tuesday’s hit, sometimes it still feels like he’s here around your condo trying to scare the shit out of your cat, when he’s the one who’s actually terrified of him. And when you catch yourself staring at Lorraine’s nose a little too long during your small morning chats before you’re both leaving for work—that’s right—you two are now cordial enough to have civilized conversations, and yes you had Michael Berzatto to thank for that.
For constantly seeing the best in everybody, even crazy gardening neighbors who loved composting and believing their son could do no wrong.
Who only knows what Mikey’s conversation with that kid was like. You had a feeling that Richie knew, there was a slim chance that Richie was his ride along when you were off at work or someplace else but Richie would always be Mikey’s keeper.
And you were fine with that, as long as you never saw a telescope again.
ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪
SUMMER ‘24 PROMPTS FIN. (For now!)
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wandagcre · 1 year ago
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drive you mad (part 2) | sam carpenter 🔞
(Mob Boss!Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)
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You had enough of your complicated relationship with Sam. You’re trying out new coping mechanisms to move on, but sadly, even going on a date with another person didn’t make things better. However, your best friend had too many tricks under her sleeve, willing to try them all to have you again.
WARNING: dom!mob boss! sam, sub!reader, fluff, some of sam's daddy issues, possessive sex, strap-on, subdrop, jealous sam, breeding kink, blow job, dubcon(?), humiliation, fake cum, praise, edging, implied size difference, mentions of violence and stalking, manipulation, stockholm syndrome, toxic relationship, just a lot of reader and sam fucking like rabbits omg, not proofread +18 / men & minors dni. Words: 18k+ Note: BEAR WITH ME. I am aware of how much of a lengthy (wink wink) last part this is but I swear things are looking good ;) hope everyone enjoys it!
[ LAST PART of TWO | Previous ]
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Apparently, the worst thing that can happen is that your date for tonight shares few similarities with Sam.
You try to be humoured with how it started with your same friend again, it’s like she simply knew what your type was. Your date's name was Lucy and while she didn’t possess the tanned skin that you loved; she was still taller than you, her mother tongue happens to also be Spanish, and she also had an attractive set of thick eyebrows. 
The resemblance in terms of characteristics was uncanny.
At first it felt foreign to you to dive into an established romantic date after a while. Besides the comparisons that your brain kept making, you were also unsure if any of the ones with Sam actually counts. 
Nonetheless, it's been so long since you’ve been into one, you feel like a newborn learning to walk.
To Lucy’s credit, it was an enjoyable experience. She was considerate of your taste, threw you compliments that weren't only out of politeness, and preferred that the two of you decide which place you’ll be more comfortable in. Lucy was specific and admittedly it helped, because you had the tendency to be indecisive. She was chatty and at times it was comical with how she told you little stories that genuinely made you laugh as you dined in an Italian restaurant.
Lucy also took you to an arcade that recently opened. It was creating quite a buzz around, based on how you constantly see teenagers flock enthusiastically in the area. 
Surrounded with glowing lights and bold, colorful neon signs, packed with a variety of games you haven't even seen before. The place was indeed inviting for you to let loose.
“This is cliché. But in a good way. I haven’t been in a place like this for a while now,” you look up to your date who had an unwavering smile.
“See! Clichés can be good! Opens the forgotten memory you once enjoyed.” Lucy beamed at you. “What’s your favorite game to play? I’d have to say I’m great at these things, so we’re totally going to win something by the end!”
“Even the claw machines?” You jab playfully at Lucy's confidence. “Aren't they always rigged? I believe just the same since I never won anything from those things.”
“Can't argue with that. Sometimes it's all about the timing and well, other times, all rigged business as you say. Lucky for you, I happen to be good at this stuff!" Lucy stretched her hands outward, comically, cracking her neck muscles as well. 
You can’t help but snort at the sight. Nerves were slightly put into ease, because tonight was going well. She won you a dolphin stuffed toy and she definitely hard carried the gunning zombie game of two players, where Lucy amusingly acted out as though she was in real despair with your character constantly dying. You had a great time.
Even if Sam continued to ebb in your mind. 
“Lucy, thanks for tonight.” She opened the car door for you and you exhaled with relief because you did enjoy her company. “I had a lot of fun, even if I kept dying on those two player games.”
She leaned on her car, Lucy’s look remained at you. “I did too. I was happy to be accompanied by a beautiful date. Totally worth the coins! But do know that I don’t mind if we do this again…” she extended her hand to yours, silently asking for permission if you’d let her hold you, which you accepted. “And I also won’t mind if you say no. I’ll be a bit bummed, sure, but I can handle it.”
You sense Lucy's nervousness as she fiddles with your hands, head looking down while sporting an upturned mouth. You’re still wearing the jean jacket she lent you from earlier, and insisted that you needed it more because she can handle the cold breeze better.
You loathed to think that maybe, if a specific woman didn’t occupy your mind and body this much—maybe—you’d get a better shot with the lovely woman right in front of you.
“I appreciate how you’ve been so good to me all night,” you tighten your hold, it was softer than what you were looking for. Unaccustomed to the calloused hands you have grown to love over the past few months.
“I sense that there’s a but…”
Then all of a sudden, your phone rings.
It was the devil herself. 
Sam.
Retrieving your phone from your purse, you stared at the screen for a few seconds. Not even debating if you should answer, simply frozen that Sam is calling you. She wasn’t the caller type, knowing that she liked to give head's up before anything. So you thought it must’ve been an emergency if she was this insistent.
Worry filled you. Yet, you don't trust yourself to answer right away, knowing you were bound to embarrass yourself or worse; be easily pulled in by Sam's sweet nothings. She was your weak spot, your ability to say no vanishes with ease.
Taking a peek at your notifications, it only shocked you, seeing that Sam was bombarding you the whole evening. They were sweet first, her usual cheery self, until they got cold for some reason. You stifle an uneasy grimace—hating how this was confusing you to no end.
Pocketing the phone back, you had no energy for this tonight. There’s no escaping this situation or this woman, really. Why did you think it was a good idea in the first place? You decide on calling Sam the next day to get things over with. 
“Are you okay? I don’t mind if you’re going to answer that,” Lucy asks with a comforting smile, gesturing at your phone that rang for the second time.
You shake your head, trying to compose yourself. 
The ringing eventually stopped.
“No. Uh, where was I?” You clear your throat. She looks at you expectantly. “Again, Lucy, it’s been nice. But I think for now all I can handle is… friendship.” you answer in a heartbeat and for a moment, your date was crestfallen at your answer. “But you’re right, you know. Cliches can be nice. I never thought I actually needed this.” It was genuine; not a mere attempt of cheering her up. You didn’t realize until now how you needed to unwind in a way that wasn’t discrete nor foreign.
After a few beats of silence, the woman nodded, perhaps she has accepted her fate for tonight. Lucy bounced back to her unaffected and cheery disposition. Before parting ways, she surprisingly left a soft kiss on your cheek, almost at the corner of your lips. 
“I’m content with the fact that I managed to change your mind over one thing.” Lucy quips and shoots you a playful wink.
You were still blushing at the sudden action but you didn't quip at it, giving back her jacket. “Thank you really. For keeping me warm and making this night wonderful.” Lucy says and waves goodbye one last time to you with a toothy smile on her face. 
Standing from the pavement in front of your apartment, your eyes follow your date’s car as it drives farther away from you. Still stunned and occupied with your own thoughts, you pay no mind to the roaring engine in the streets, at this late hour—thinking it was one of the many overbearing and supercilious owners that likes to boast of their possession.
You rolled your eyes internally, and immediately headed to your apartment. Reaching your room, maybe the only thing you've cleaned up was your hands. Nothing had felt good for the past few days—work was demanding. Sam kept blowing up your phone, but she didn't make any move to come and see you and that bothered you still. 
Even if this date was the most normal you've felt tonight, the exhaustion easily took over your body.
The paranoia comes in waves, surprising you every now and then. Because sometimes, you felt as though eyes were on you.
Mind drifting to Sam again, you wonder what could she be up to these days. What could’ve been the reason for her to call you out of nowhere. Has she missed you this much? Your heart flutters at the thought.
Was it a good thing? To avoid Sam this long even with her small attempts of reaching out?
Of course, it wasn’t. You idiot. Taking off your boots with a resigned sigh, you lazily placed them on the floor. The plushie was still on your other hand and you plopped the dolphin stuffed toy next to you in bed. It was easy to get lost as you laid all comfortable on warm sheets and cold pillows—you're off to la-la-land, dozing off completely into a dreamless state. As your body relaxed, you found it odd how all of a sudden it smells like chemical. 
It was strong and vivid for your taste, that even if your brain sends a jolt of panic, you are numbed—unable to move nor wake up. 
Like a terrible nightmare, it seemingly paralyzed you until you blacked out again and you didn’t have any more time to analyze it further. 
::
How many hours has it been? 
You worry that you’ll miss work. Disoriented, you feel yourself starting to wake up with eyes calibrating as they open. It smells different, though it’s more pleasant; earthly and flowery than the blur of chemical induced you've experienced before. Was it a dream? Your heart started racing—this is definitely not your bedroom. The mattress was softer than yours, the layers of sheets felt gentle against your skin. Not to mention you didn't have this amount of pillows underneath your head, like you were some sort of royalty. The bed was too wide for your limbs that were acquainted with the minimal space you were used to. Then it clicks to you; you are definitely in a different place. 
But wait. 
You've been here before.
In your hazy sight, you yanked on your forearm as your wrists felt oddly sore and prickling your nerves, only to find out the restraints that kept you for god knows how many hours. Your breathing pattern started racing—attempting to shake off the handcuffs. It was tight. You were still wearing your flowy dress as you glanced at your body.
"Good morning, mi amor." says the deep voice that rattled you.
Your sight makes out a figure of a person standing in front of you, ominous, yet had an amused look on her face.
How did you get in here? Into Sam's room?
"Sam? What—?" you rasped out weakly. "I don't… what is this?"
Sam had the audacity to smile through her little contraption. You poor sweet thing, she had anticipated many things; first comes the confusion. 
She’s wearing your favorite shirt, worn out and tightly fitted to her body. With how Sam is built, you fear that the fabric will rip if she keeps on moving. It’s the same one you've lost during senior year and luckily for Sam, she found it in her room during one of your sleepovers and upon finding them, she had no intentions of returning it to you. The timing was perfect, she carried this piece of you as her father left her with no choice but to move away from your town then. Sam stood barefoot and her legs were covered with her silk sleepwear.
"Hush, It's okay, you're okay. You’re safe with me, (y/n/n)." Sam cooed as she sauntered your way, the bed dipping as she gently straddled your legs. It’s the same softly spoken tone you heard many times before, but Sam's actions remain to perplex you. "Relax, you’re at home—with me."
Then comes the panic.
You huff out frustratedly, "What home are you talking about? This isn't my– it isn't–! Fuck, I need you to uncuff me!” with gritted teeth, you try to kick your feet and legs in the air in protest. You didn’t like being forced into this. It was simply insane. Because either way, you were hopelessly drawn and possibly in love with Sam—enough to comply with whatever she desired.
Your wrists tug on the restraints again making them clink against the headboard and to no avail, you weren't able to loosen them up. It was a genuine pair of handcuffs. This wasn't a prank. The terror rapidly coursed through your veins, much more now that you can't move your legs as well, being trapped in Sam's weight.
"But you're with me. I've told you before, I missed having you, I even repeatedly begged you to come back home. You belong here with me."
Sam had wanted to do this hours ago—missing to be in your proximity, evading your space fully. But she knew it'll suffocate you and she couldn't risk putting her favorite pretty girl into a worse spiral of panic attack.
"No, no, no... I was with- this wasn't where I went right after Lucy... I- I got home, my house and I remember sleeping on my bed," Surely you aren't mad. You can recall the events step-by-step, hence this current situation you're in has left you confused. "How did I get here?"
"First, no mentioning of other women when I'm with you. Or ever at all." Sam breaks out a growl. When you gasp, she holds your jaw, tilting them up. Her hold onto you shifts, thumb now soothed your cheeks gently, wiping away the tears you were unknowingly shedding out of panic. "I had to do it my way, mi amor. I'm sorry."
And it swiftly shifts to anger. 
A snarl breaks out of you in the midst of panic. 
But oh, Sam could never hurt you.
"What the fuck is your way, Samantha?!"
Sam believed that you only need a little more push—convincing how perfect the two of you are together. After all, she has waited for you for so long and had expected that your reunion was enough to prove that. She has been so good to you. Sam thought; why did you have to look for more? She can give you everything.
"This right here." Sam quipped airily, a teasing look written on her face. "The last time you were in my bed... you were eager to leave. And you did, abruptly and odd, when I first thought of it. Then, you didn't plan on returning at all. That hurt me so much, (y/n/n)." Sam's gaze changed to hurt, head tilted as the intensity of her doe-eyes bore into yours.
Guilt prickled on your side. While you disapprove of Sam's ways, maybe you could have prevented it—this. Confronted her after what you found out. She's a friend first that you cherished before being entangled intimately. After all, communication also goes both ways. 
"So, you basically took me? Handcuffed me, too. This is kidnapping, you know I could—"
"Report me? If I were you, I wouldn't waste my time. These cops are sloppy and way too easy. But still, they do make a good ear and connection for me, I must say."
You gasp at her implication. You should have expected it.
"Unbelievable. You've gone crazy, Samantha."
Sam shifted her weight, locking your hips with her thighs. Your breath hitched at the force, much more when you felt something hard poking at your pelvis.
"I hate it when you call me that. You're pushing it, baby. First you ignored me and your solution was to go and date someone else? I thought I made myself clear that I didn't like sharing you with anyone else, (y/n/n)?"
You blinked rapidly.
"It- It wasn't like that—"
"No? If it weren't for Tara and Martin giving me a heads up, you would've invited that girl to your house, wouldn't you?" Sam uttered with gritted teeth, "She must’ve done it to spite me. The nerve to leave a lipstick stain on your pretty face, tell me, did she kiss you?" Her thumb swiped your bottom lip, as if to erase the remains of what once laid in there, then up to your cheek but much more firmer than this time. 
Sam was already debating ways on how she will dispose of this Lucy you speak of. Her eyebrows now furrowed and the loving eyes were ripped off, anger fixated on the red mark on your soft cheek.
"What? I don't—no, no, Sam. I'm telling you, it was just a simple date. We only ate at this restaurant and—what does your sister and men have to do with this?" you asked, growing confused even more.
If you loathed how defensive you were, Sam however, took immense pride in it. It just meant that you still cared for her feelings. So, there was something indeed. She wasn’t being delusional all this time—like her father distastefully implied.
Sam cowered onto you lower, her dark hair curtained as you were underneath her. 
"Tara's wife owns the restaurant that you visited last night. As for Martin, well, I ordered him to call me in case something happened. Imagine my surprise when they both did."
He was following this whole time. That explained one of your conundrums of feeling eyes on you these days.
"You've been following me around?"
Sam was immovable, unphased by your words. She didn’t confirm nor deny your implication.
"You've got nothing to worry about. Come on, love — it's me." The pad of her fingertips trace on your features feather-like. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. Haven't I made that very clear?" 
You scoffed at her nonchalance. "See, I would have believed you if you didn't take me unwillingly out of my apartment and cuffed me in your bedpost!"
"But I've always wanted to see you tied up like this. It was only a matter of time. Besides, I can recall you getting all flustered when I brought it up before. Wasn't it a confirmation on your end?" Sam had her pearly teeth clamped on her bottom lip. As she dropped the words, your cheeks grew hot. "Call this... me reading between the lines." Sam husked out right on your ear.
"Samantha, you are something else." A strained voice weakly comes out of you. 
"I'm taking that as a compliment."
You rolled your eyes. "'course you will."
Sam hiked up your dress further, exposing your undies. You squirmed at being exposed and she smacked the side of your thigh in return. You yelped as it stung in your skin, throwing your head to the side of the pillow.
"Now, don't put up that attitude with me princesa."
It was embarrassing enough how you're affected with Sam and her way with words. Were you damp in the southern part? She has to stop and not pry further with her advances—or else she'll never live it down.
"I just don't understand how you were so insistent on taking me here," You peer at Sam who had her jaw clenched as she detached her hold to you. "I dunno, we could've talked about this normally. In a space preferably where I’m not restrained like this. Samantha, I mean it. I can't play any more games with you."
Sam raised an eyebrow over your words. A game? She was absolutely displeased with how little you think of her admiration for you. The disbelief was written all over her face. 
She became eerily stoic at your words. You didn’t like being the receiver of her blank expression.
"The last time I did, you were adamant on leaving me. Fully avoiding me right after. You didn’t even pick up my call. And a game? Is that what you think it is? Oh, princesa. You're absolutely driving me up the wall. You're shutting me out, I’m familiar with it.”
You couldn't retort anything back at her words, gulping as you found the truth behind them. Sam was right; you've always wanted to run away from any forms of confrontation. 
You were never good at dealing with them.
Such a poor little thing, Sam thought. This was evidently giving you a whiplash, her attitude and unconventional ways, but she doesn't think she can wait any longer and the unforeseen little date you had last evening just accelerated, no, ruined her plans.
"Was she any good?" Sam lowly questioned with her other hand trailed underneath your dress, running on your upper thighs as she moved back. You shiver at the contact and warmth that spread goosebumps all over your skin.
Sam refused to call this woman by their name, it would make things harder for her. She detests how for a moment, you chose someone else over her.
You helplessly squirmed, making the handcuffs clink repeatedly once again. "She- she was nice—" you truthfully said.
When you wiggled out your legs, Sam overpowered you. She gripped your plush thighs, opened them to have herself placed in between, with your folded legs raised in the air, she took her hips to push them downward to stop you. Her own core met yours and you felt her packing.
"Nngh—!" you heated up, so close from erupting louder. 
And Sam? She hated to see you suppressing them. Especially when you have deprived her of your sweet presence for so long. But she has already learned that loosening up too much wasn't the good approach. She barely knew a lick to romance, not when her upbringing was surrounded by coldness and violence. She thought in realistic terms, the romantic movies that you loved and forced her to see were pathetic. Adorable that you found hope in them, so she gave that formula a shot when she saw you again. 
Only to see that you slipped away from her. It was ineffective, so to say.
Sam decided that she was going to create her own.
"Wrong answer, honey.” she smiled. “You say that yet I can tell you're already wet for me, aren't you?" 
You didn’t like how this turned out as foreplay and what was worse, is how you were enjoying this deep inside. Sam being in tune with your body—she already knew that. You just needed a little more… breaking.
"Fuck off, Sam. Just uncuff me already!"
"Now don't get me started. Say, I'll make a deal with you," Sam combed her fingers through your messy hair. "If you're wet once I inspect you, we'll do things my way. If you aren't– maybe– I will let you go."
Astounded with her proposition, annoyance crept into you. 
"What's so fair about that?"
"The illusion of choice." Sam grinned mischievously. "But you can't possibly be wet aren't you? It's still early in the morning and your words are insisting that you dislike this whole setup." she gestures on your body, huffing at how you're still resisting her.
"You don't own me," you attempted to stand for yourself.
Mirth settled on Sam's features. She tilted her head and an unsettling smile was set on her lips. 
“Haven’t I proved that otherwise from time to time?”
You look away at her crystal clear innuendo. Of course it's Sam. Everything that she did always had you transfixed and mesmerized by her.
"You're just mocking me now. Seriously, maybe if you knew why I pulled away..." you wryly replied. 
"That's the thing, I don't! It frustrates me what I have done wrong," Sam now appeared equally exasperated as you. 
You look at her bewildered. She had the nerve to say all of this, while her eyes were pleading at you. It was jarring to witness her crumble and desperate to seek answers in the softest way she can, while having you handcuffed.
"I heard you! That day, when you cooked for me and wanted me to stay in.” There wasn't going to be another chance if you didn't pour it all right now. With a shaky breath and a lump in your throat, you continue. “I accidentally eavesdropped on your phone call, confirming that you were going to a strip club. I hated that you were fucking around, even when we– whatever we were. I thought it was better to stub it out right after that. Apparently, I’m still not good with keeping things casual.”
Her calloused hands came back to softly soothe your face. You were close to shedding tears as previously.
"But… I've never been with anyone else since we met again." 
"Bullshit." you quickly spat out.
She gave you a stern look. Sam was displeased with how you were denying her. Still, she evens out her breathing, holding back from taking the reins for now.
"I swear on it with a knife on my throat, (y/n/n). I had to go for work reasons. I recently acquired the place so I had to finalize some things. It also helped to muddle our meet-ups in case someone was lurking."
It made you tense up underneath Sam.
"And pray tell, why the hell would someone be lurking at you—better yet, at us?" you curiously asked, worry dripped at your tone.
Sam exhaled, her eyes momentarily shut.
"Because I deal with an under-the-table business, honey." Sam meets your eyes again, holding onto the headboard. "It's the main reason why I had to step up, as I said before. My old man let his temperament slip terribly, fucked up, and I had to take the reigns. That's why I disappeared. I didn't have much choice." She appeared solemn as she admitted the truth you've been longing for. 
Sam leading a mob made so much sense now for you. Always wanting to be discreet, her men tried to blend in—not wanting to stand out, and especially that night where Sam was disoriented and had bruising, injured fists, more times than you can count after your first time seeing them.
The glint of amusement on Sam’s eyes did not go amiss for you as she gently stroked your hair. “Though, I gotta hand it to my old man. I hated how his voice nagged constantly in my head, how he figured out that I had feelings for you then–utilized it to taunt me every time I fucked up.” Sam scrunched her nose. The resentment seeped vividly as she revealed more. “He’ll always say, I can’t see you yet or- or that I don’t deserve you if I can’t defend you—that I’m weak. You were my silver lining, (y/n/n). Still is.” She confessed, stroking your jaw softly as though you were her most prized possession.
Similar to that one night, your affection for Sam overpowered your common sense. You were moved by her words, ached that she had to be tormented at a young age. Feeling bile rising up your throat; you then realize how deep were you enough to be willing to ignore the unconventional and wicked ways of Sam, even if it raised red flags. But it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t posing an immense weight over you.
It was all new information to you. For god’s, she had to kidnap you and cuff you to her bed. You never thought that your sweet Sammy could ever—
"That's... okay- okay. It's a lot to take in," you whispered to Sam who was internally worrying at your response.
Before you can delve more to the sirens threatening to grow louder, Sam scooted her lower body away from gripping you, and now you feel her lips softly yet so eagerly peppering your face with kisses.
"We don't have to talk about it right now, but I just want you, (y/n/n)." 
She pinched your inner thigh, making your mouth open agape from the shock. Sam took it as her chance to meet your mouth with hers, no hesitation now as she was eager to kiss you. Her lips moved and you tentatively returned the gesture, dancing with familiarity that you didn’t know you badly craved for weeks now.
You groan at the overwhelming feeling of Sam and how she moved against you. Wet and eager sounds of kissing vibrated delectably to your body and it made Sam shift to a hunger and lust fueled kiss.
Soon you were gasping for air. Sam reluctantly pulled away as you did, chasing your lips for more. She was more than pleased to see you equally half-lidded and affected with now swollen lips.
“God, I wanna be inside of you already…” Sam husked out as she swept back her hair. “You’ve made me so desperate, you have no idea.” The ragged breathing made you throb. She moved aside to spread your legs apart and you became wetter at what’s about to happen. Sam quickly placed herself between your legs, now folded up. “Do you wanna feel me?”
You nodded, but it wasn’t enough for Sam. 
She grabbed you by your cheeks, “I need an answer, mi amor.”
“Yes!” you breathed out, nodding dumbly.
Sam grinned wolfishly as your need starts to crack upon the surface. She knew that this irresistible feeling goes both ways. Still, she thrived on seeing this each time, being proved right.
“Arch your back for me.”
As you complied, Sam slithered her own body flushed against yours. It gave her enough space to reach behind to unzip your dress, tugged it down, her look barely faltered with a glint in her eyes. 
She saw your matching jade underwear pieces. Seethe began to bubble inside of Sam as it sinks in that you dressed up too nicely for your date last night. It drove her crazy, how your gorgeous tits were threatening to spill out of its confinement; you were such a sight for her. 
Only for her and it should always stay that way.
She cupped them out of your bra, finally revealing your supple breasts. It only took one glance for her desire to take over and now you’re pressed against Sam. She feels your nipples harden on her as she begins to mark you from your neck, to your sternum, and coated them with her spit as she sucked on them needily. Throughout the process, all you could do was spill moans helplessly, eyes closed and arched your body for her—gladly letting Sam do however she wanted.
Now your body was littered with red and purple marks, some parts glistening with her saliva.
“I want to taste you too, fuck, I don’t know which one I’ll do first.” Sam admitted, voice all raucous. Taking a peek of her needy, doe eyes was enough to make you feel lightheaded. “No more dates with other people alright? So god help me, I’ll fucking behead anyone who dares to.”
You nodded, now eager to comply with Sam as your whole body ached for her. Your green light made her weak in the knees—she worships you. Sam swore that she won’t hesitate to kill more for you, if they cross you or come between the two of you.
Sam pulled you in by gripping your legs, lower body completely arched for your core to meet hers as she knelt at the bed in front of you. She thrusted her hips upward and the dull ache of your pussy throbbing intensified tenfold. She continued teasing you and while your arm and wrists were beginning to ache, knowing you can’t do anything, you started to cry, pleading for the woman to do something.
“Please Sam, can you just– shit, it hurts, I need you… please…”
“Shhh, it’s okay,” Sam gently released her hold of you, pulling down her sleepwear and revealed the strap that dangled between her legs. 
You involuntarily widen your legs at the sight. Fuck, you were so ready for her. She smirked at this and tugged your underwear down. Your arousal flowed like crazy, the vivid imagery of your wetness stringing on the fabric of your panties and Sam was intoxicated at it, more so with your heavenly scent.
“Wanna fuck your mouth first, (y/n/n).” 
With no further warning, Sam hovered against you once again, leaving your pussy exposed and being teased with the mere air, feeling yourself drip already at her expensive bed sheets. Strong thighs and muscular lower abdomen peeked through her tight shirt, covering your entire sight. 
Sam tilted her head and you see the mirth on her face. Unexpectedly, she grabbed the middle of the strap’s length and slapped it harshly on your cheek and mouth, barely an ounce of respect. You were a fan of how she loses herself onto you—because of you. 
Body twitching repeatedly, without a doubt, you were craving for more.
“I need my good girl. Come on, open up for me.” Sam orders, probing your mouth open with the tip. Sam’s scent was intoxicating for you, too, with barely space from her core to your face, you almost wanted for her to ride you. Maybe later. “And I need to prep you first.”
Wanting to please her, you met her lust filled gaze and opened your mouth wide, tongue stuck out. She immediately pushed in a few inches, your tongue already swirling around the silicone. It stretched your mouth. With closed eyes you were sucking so eagerly that Sam moaned at each thrust she did, hit the back of your throat that you had to adjust your breathing through your nose–and how you easily complied with no hesitance. You covered it in the slick of your spit until your cheeks hollowed, eager to please even if you were close to gagging. Drool sloppily dripped on corner of your mouth; equally lost as her right now and Sam loved that.
No one and nothing else can compare to this sight.
“Shit, you love me moving like this huh? Being cock drunk, you’re pooling already in my sheets…”
She grunts as she thrusted harder, getting more turned on as the slick wet sounds become aggressively loud in the confines of her bedroom. Sam kept her gaze on you the whole time–loved the sight of your eyes welling up with tears out of pleasure, drooling on the corner of your mouth, and you were releasing throaty moans as she moved on your mouth.
“You missed this, don’t you?” Sam breathily asked, the bed creaked along. “Because I sure did,”
You hummed loud in agreement and this urged Sam to grab the shaft of her strap, with one final thrust, she poked it against your cheek, the head of the cock bulging against it. She groaned at the imagery—ingraining it on her mind. She pulled out with a pop noise and you were already dishevelled.
“Fucking hell, (y/n/n). Not so responsive now are you? Fuck, if my cock was real I would’ve made you swallow my cum already. Spilling them warm on your throat. You would’ve loved that, wouldn’t you?” Sam asked you through her rapid breathing and held you by your cheeks again to fully look at her.
“Yes, yes! I’ll swallow it all. I need you, I always need you, Sam,” you admit with no shame and spread your legs wide once again, your hole soaked and clenching over nothing—all for her.
“Must be your lucky day then. Because this is a cumming strap, mi amor.” 
As your eyes widened, Sam pumped on the shaft, directing it to your mouth that was slightly ajar and you felt liquid oozing on your lips and tongue. She dragged it until spurts were all over your face, torso, and then your lower tummy.
You made sure to put on a show for the woman, seductively licking off the remains of her fake cum, fully immersed as if it was the real thing. Sam groaned and moaned, immediately pulled you for a bruising kiss that made your head spin.
“I know you wanted more but I need you to be patient,” Sam muttered as she pushed your inner thighs outward, positioning herself between you. “Shit, you’re dripping. I was right. Soaking, just like I expected you to be.”
“Yes, yes! But for the love of god, uncuff me, Sam… I want- no- I need to feel all of you,” you begged for her mercy. Sam simply bit your exposed clavicle. As you moaned, the action sent delicious tingles all over her body.
“No, not just yet.”
Sam’s calculations were going well so far, she’s about to have you and then keep you forever. 
There’s no escaping her now.
You whined a bit more as Sam had her grip on the back of your knees, making you fold as she pressed herself beneath you. She held you by the ankle and threw them above her shoulder. Fuck, she’s got you folded. Maybe Sam should’ve let you do some stretching first.
“Need you to take a deep breath for me, pretty girl.” Sam uttered with her voice all gruff, and looking at her, you see the sheer sweat becoming evident on her skin though not as much as yours. “You didn’t like me so much earlier but now, I’m barely in, and your pussy is clenching already?” she mocked you. Her giggling burned your body, you did not expect how enjoyable it was to be ridiculed in this way. “Loosen up for me.”
With a bated breath as you relax your throbbing core, Sam slid her cock further, the head and a few inches entering you with ease than earlier. Sam was keen on looking at your expression and your mouth, in case it was too much for you. She knew it was a new thing for the two of you, she can only imagine that it’ll be a new adjustment compared to her slender fingers.
This was an insane type of stretch for you. The biggest you’ve ever taken.
“See? You’re taking it so well. I’ll make it fit.”
Eventually, it wasn’t enough for Sam as you expected. Drunk with the sight of your pussy swallowing her whole, she picks up her pace and rammed the cock inside of you—full of hunger and determination to see you fall apart; she needs it more than air. 
“Shit! S-Sam, can you just–”
“Shhh. Don’t be so greedy now, where are your manners?”
The curve of the whole shaft inside of you was vivid against your walls, her impatience getting the better of her as the pace was ragged, no longer gradual. It was downright pornographic–you didn’t expect to be this loud and wet. The ache of being deliciously stretched out made your eyes roll back to your head and let out a moan. The sloshing and slapping sounds were too defined for your ears.
“You… you’re going to be the end of me, Sam,” You whisper as you bucked your hips, the squelching of your sopping pussy only motivated Sam to thrust deeper who smiled at your words. 
She waited for you for so long and to finally have you was intoxicating beyond her comprehension. 
“As you are mine,” Sam replied and with a newfound fervor, she began fucking you deep into her mattress, hitting the depths of your soaked pussy. The bed uncontrollably shaking and with her grip on the headboard–you feared that she might actually break it.
“Oh m-mmh! Fuck, oh-Oh my god!” you cried, not even able to ground yourself through holding onto something as you’re still cuffed. 
“Shhh you can take it. Just a little more,”
Your arousal dripped enough to smear itself to Sam’s hips and thighs. She grunts loudly as she fervently pounds the strap on you, "Esto es mia." her accent dripped deliciously and you whimpered, whole back arched, as Sam splayed her hand, pushing the bulge of the strap that appeared on your lower tummy. “You like that baby? Needy little thing, I’m going to fucking breed you until all you can think of is me.” you wish to have your nails dug and scratched over Sam’s muscular back, finding the ideas she kept on seeding onto your dirty mind pleasurable more than ever.
Your stomach twitched like crazy, the tangled coil grew unbearable now for your liking. Both of your muscles burned but it was barely an issue for Sam who was still relentless. 
Just as you were close as Sam hit the right spot, her pounding came into a full halt.
With hazy sight, you try to blink a few times. Sam started to pull out, while you cried, canting your hips to chase more of the strap and she simply took deep breaths. She growled, slapping you harshly by your inner thighs—you yelped unadulteratedly, the sting crossing the line of pain and pleasure. Sam muttered a string of curses in her mother tongue as soon as she saw the strap coated and glistening with your slick.
The tension on your stomach twitched madly in waves. It doesn’t help that your clit was throbbing painfully to reach the needed high. You wail as you turn your head to the side, burrowing to the soft pillows. Your vision turns warped as you grew dizzy, staring at the high ceiling.
The harsh reality sinks in. Like a cold bucket of water spilled onto you, you realize that you’re in Sam’s complete mercy. She makes it known with her giggling that resonated in the spacious room, making you feel humiliated. Though, it oddly adds to the erotic atmosphere. She worked you up–gaping hole still clenching, now onto nothing.
“This is what happens when you do dumb things and deprive me of your pretty self, mi amor.” she smiled and stroked the apple of your cheek, wiping the tears away.
Sam couldn’t wait to fully break you.
::
While previously wallowing in deep yearning and questions, Sam however, took it up a notch. It was terrible; aware of Sam’s tendencies to be rough in bed, nothing had prepared you from yesterday. Her intentions were clearly personal and she took the detachment horrifyingly and dealt with it in unimaginable ways you never thought could happen to you. For gods’s sake, she was following you and not so long ago you were in her bed. Uncertain how you’ll face this mess, there’s one thing that you were sure of: you cannot get enough of Sam. 
Isn’t that terrible?
You woke up gasping for air—your body doesn’t feel like yours. It felt as though you were paralyzed, your motor senses weren’t coordinated as you wanted them to be. It was like being plunged into a body of water for hours, coldness surrounded you and oxygen was scarce, you were completely deprived. Your lungs were clogged up and you didn’t know how to manage the air through your body. Panicking at this, the tears involuntarily well up your eyes, blurring your vision and just in time, someone catches you.
“Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Warmth covers your body. The soothing voice kept on lulling you to calmness. The grasp was firm on your midsection—continuously rubbing back and forth. It wasn’t like being trapped anymore. “It’s just me, mi amor. It’s Sam—your Sammy. Try to breathe slowly with me, come on baby, you can do it.”
The voice faintly goes through your hearing but it was distinguishable enough. It was still difficult to breathe but being in her proximity, you feel her pattern of breathing. She takes a deep breath and draws out the release just as slow.
“Breathe with me, come on honey,” The voice urges you gently, sweeping the hair away from your face. She anchors you through the turbulent waves. Sam thought; How can you still look so beautiful even at your most vulnerable? If anything, this had made her even more set with her plans—wanting more days of waking up next to you. 
Your breathing was less ragged, albeit still unregulated. 
Sam wanted to see your eyes now, the one that she loves the most, and your subdrop is depriving her of it.
She tries to paint an easy picture for you in hopes of calming you down. “You’re alright. You stayed with me—in my house the whole day. It’s nighttime and nothing bad is going to happen to you. What’s going to happen is that you’ll rest the whole day. I’ll prepare some food, we’ll go for a bubble bath, and reapply a soothing cream to your sore thigh and we can watch some romantic comedies that you like so much—you’d pick the movie, of course.” Sam finishes with a light chuckle.
Finally, the panicking has settled down, her words have lulled you to calm down. You aren't drowning in the vast and deep sea nor restrained like a prisoner. It provided enough details that you didn’t know your mind longed for. 
“Sam,” you drawl out with your hoarse voice. You’re met with the beaming hazel eyes, crinkled at the corners, attentive to your next words. “Fucking warn a girl next time.”
“No promises.” She teases you, nose scrunched and tickling your side lightly.
You fight off a weak smile threatening to spread on your lips. “What do you mean no promises? I don’t think I can walk! Don’t even look smug right now–I mean it.”
The woman in front of you was not guilty at all. Shrugging her shoulder, Sam was seemingly ready to get up.
No!
You shrieked. Panic immediately courses through you, tugging her down harshly to your side once again. Your grasp was in her arm. Why were you so adamant to have her beside you? It was unexplainable but if anything is certain, your body couldn’t handle it if she left you. Not after letting her have her way with you earlier—you refuse to feel disposable, even by the slightest. You wanted more of Sam.
Sam, on the other hand, was shocked at the action but not at the reason. She blamed herself—knowing you were still processing your feelings, how rough she has been—she should have remained gentle, at least for now. Sickeningly, she loved having your attention this way. It felt like a teaser of what was more to come—to eventually have your full devotion; equally as she does to you.
“I’m sorry, honey, I was about to carry you.” Safe with me now. She murmured to no one, soon as you clung to the front of her body, legs wrapped tightly to her waist. Her arms and hands quickly caught you for support. You nuzzled in the crook of her neck, making her shiver delectably more so as you tangle your fingers on her hair—scratching lightly on her scalp. 
Not long after as she started walking, she pressed multiple innocent kisses to the expanse of your neck. Sam sighed. God, everything had to be so addicting about you—even your scent. She gently drops you to the cold marble of her kitchen’s counter and before you could protest, Sam reminds you of the plans she had made for tonight.
You’re surrounded with appliances that you had no idea how to properly pronounce, one that you would’ve only seen in the magazines. She always wanted the best of the best, it seems. Hell, Sam can start a cooking show if she wants to. This part of her house wasn’t too decorated, you noticed, somewhat lifeless. You tuck the observation at the back of your mind, a piece that could be useful later on.
Soon as you settled in, Sam told you that she intends to make an appetizing flatbread and her own concoction of guacamole dip. How she managed to improve her culinary skills in these years remains to surprise you. Younger Sam was already capable of making edible food fixes and some humble meals, but her skills as she made them was evidently different and an upgrade.
Your curious eyes remained at Sam as she moved. Her apron appeared threatening—it read don’t make me poison you! Attached with a kiss mark was ridiculously endearing to you. But also very, very hot. The way Sam tied it around her waist and how it clung to her fit figure. Not to mention, you were rewarded by the sight of Sam’s hair tie momentarily trapped by her teeth then doing a messy half-pony with it. 
She first started with the dough with the trusty rolling pin, her arms flexing and contracting at each force she put into it. The veins were slowly becoming prominent as Sam does her work, the outline of its curves bulging, also making themselves known. Remnants of the powder were a nice touch as she was making a meal for you. 
Don’t even get started with her knife skills. Sam easily chopped through the vegetables, completely hypnotized by the motion, you failed to notice that she was preparing some greens that you personally had a vendetta with. Your eyes were fixated on how she cut through them with much precision and ease. Then, you recall her admission, leading a mob—you can only imagine how swift she must be with her sharps when using them in business situation, the menacing glare and—
What?
Now, you were thoroughly confused.
You gulped and squirmed on your seat. The ache in between your legs made you remember how she deprived you of orgasm previously which was a first. She even promised to breed you. But you didn’t know whether it was an act of mercy, knowing if she pushed you more, you would have spiraled much worse the following hours when you woke up or was it an act to build an excitement through you. 
No wonder, similar to the physical hunger, you found everything in front just as equally gratifying. Even the thought of her malevolent ways, which you initially had conflicting thoughts about. You were still aching and sore, it didn’t help that Sam was quite the eye-candy as she maneuvered in her own space. Shit.
“I know you still don’t like these. I remember you shoving them sneakily on my plate whenever we ate dinner at your house back then.” Sam snapped you out of your…derailing thoughts. Oh, you wanted to be railed, alright. She dusts off her hands on her aprons after washing them. “But you have to eat up your greens, missy. Don’t make me force you.” she quips in a jest, eyes scrunched at you.
“I don’t have much choice, do I.” You deadpan and roll your eyes as Sam hummed, agreeing. “How come you don’t have a personal chef?” 
Might as well shift your thoughts to something else. Admittedly, you also wanted to know more about Sam. After the continuous bombs she had dropped to you as she fucked you to oblivion. 
“Ouch, baby. You haven’t even tasted what I’m cooking and you’re already doubting me?”
You laughed. “No. But I heard it’s what rich folks have. And you must be busy.”
“Not for you, never too busy.” She replied, quickly like it didn’t need much forethought. She shot you a charming smile and proceeded to chop away. Did your heart do the somersaults? Hell yes. You were always puddy when it comes to this woman. “Sometimes I do… but I prefer doing it personally for you. Especially today. But on another occasion, maybe you’ll see my personal chef.”
“Do I sense an early invitation for an indoor date?” you tease her.
Sam nodded her head adorably. “Well, yes, (y/n/n). I thought that was clear already. More things to come.” 
Well, that joke of yours bit you quickly in the ass.
You coughed and turned around to your side to hide how affected you were. This version of your Sammy would need more time to be processed into your consciousness. Few weeks apart and you’re still clammy and hopeless at her forward nature.
“You haven’t even asked me to be your girlfriend yet. For all I know, this feels like another booty call for me.”
“A booty call?”
Okay, maybe that was a bad idea. Sam halted her motions, you flinched in your seat as she spun the knife effortlessly in her fingers, then gripped the knife and pierced it in the chopping board—the sound resonating in the kitchen.
“You are my girlfriend and it better stay that way.” A lilt of aggression and possessiveness dripped in her honeyed voice. She couldn’t stand you doubting more of her actions. Or worse, you mentioning any traces of your past experiences of hooking up with other people. “Like I said, I despise having to share you amongst all things. I thought I made it clear; no talking of other people–more so when you were entangled with them at one point–around me. I absolutely cannot stand it.”
Her jaw grinded as it bothered her. Sam didn’t know whether she should throw up or plan to hunt them all down and slice them all up, gut them up like a fucking fish, as she pays them a little visit. Starting with this Lucy woman you just went on a date with.
Shiver ran through your spine at her tone, coupled with Sam’s harsh parting of your still sore legs, settling between them as yours dangled on the marble counter. You turn into jelly oddly both at Sam’s admission of wanting you—claiming you—and her hand that greedily ran on your ribs, dangerously under your breast, and the other brought up your inner wrist, and pressed a kiss softly.
“I wasn’t– I just wanted to clear this out. It confused me for a while, what we were. I just needed it spelled out. For the sake of my inner peace.” You stammer out and Sam’s features slowly relax to your admission.
“Well, you are mine, mi amor. I’m reiterating that for a million times more until it sinks in to you.”
She professed, tilted her head and leaned to you with no hesitation, and as you met her halfway, one of her hands rested to the side of your head, pulling you for a chaste kiss. You burned for Sam, chased her touch, and the butterflies on your stomach were still there. Not even the little cheek kiss from your date last night could compare by the slightest.
Soon as Sam pulled away, your stomach growled, reminding you of actual hunger. She chuckled upon hearing and quickly resumed her work. 
“I didn’t know you were this…” You stop to find the right words. Sam tilted her head to the side again, always attentive to you. “Passionate.” Possessive, almost. Maybe you would have said that but you didn’t want to break such an intimate air between you. Not when Sam is officially your girlfriend.
Sam however, found it amusing. She’s surprised you barely caught up with her nature. Even in your younger years, she assumes that you only took it as protectiveness. Casualties were barely encountered then because you were attached to the hip, by default nobody wanted to mess with you as everyone was aware of Sam’s intimidating self. She was all talk and bite.
"You can say possessive and I won't be mad. I don't want you holding back to me."
“Okay. I was about to say that. Were you ever like this with other girls?” you timidly ask out of curiosity.
She shook her head. “No, just you.”
Sam clearly remembers this girl from her lacrosse team who wanted to ask you out for homecoming. Unlucky for her, Sam had heard her previously in the locker room, talking about you as they perceived you both in sweet and disgusting ways. 
She mentally agreed with how they recited your beauty out loud. You are definitely a piece of art to Sam. She unashamedly admired you out in the open, but it appeared that you were oblivious to it. But then, they also talked about how you were possibly freaky—your innocent and quiet nature was a mere ploy in their eyes and they would like to tap your ass and ramble more of your curves.
It may or may have not intendedly caused Sam to perfectly stage an accidental scene to break the girl's ankle during one of the practices then sneered for her teammate to 'watch out next time' and 'not even think about you' in the slightest.
“Guess I was indeed full of surprises, hm?” She simply replied, getting a glass and a bottle of your favorite flavor of fruit juice for you.
How did Sam even know that this was your go-to comfort drink?
With wide eyes, you accept it gratefully. 
“Yes, you are.”
Not long after, Sam had finally finished up preparing food for you two. The serving was definitely quite generous. She didn’t hesitate overfilling it with the toppings and sauce. She brought up a piece of her creation in your mouth, which you easily took a bite of. The food and its flavors melted in your tastebuds. You couldn’t help but moan in pure delight.
Sam laughed. “That good?” 
“Shut up.”
“You’re stroking my ego, baby.” She places her palm flat on her chest, seemingly flattered. “Don’t talk with your mouth full—you know this.”
And you? You almost spluttered out the food you were chewing. Sam and her devilish antics will be the end of you.
::
It wasn’t you to be contained in one place. You were always moving, whether there was a force or not. Yet, for the last few days, you manage to be unmovable. Miraculously taking your sweet time with Sam. Time seems to fade when it comes to her. More than anything, you were in disbelief you get to call your long time crush as yours.
The small haven the two of you built for the last few days came to an inevitable end with Sam having to attend to her business matters. 
You were displeased, the bubbling separation anxiety somewhat coming to the surface already. Just before Sam left, she pulled you into a deep make out session, and both of you were getting handsy. Gleaming at the thought of finally getting a sense of release, to your surprise, Sam managed to break away and compose herself—smoothening the material of her dress shirt and fixing up her tie.
To pile more to your frustration, you saw the emerald upholstered chair that Sam shamelessly paid and took when she fucked you senselessly at that lingerie boutique. As expected of the woman, she had it in her placed in the resting area of her house.
Before deciding to explore more of the nooks and crannies of Sam’s home; you eventually noticed the red lights at some corners placed in the bedroom and a brilliant idea popped out in your mind.
You retrieve your phone and dial Sam to confirm and quell your thoughts. 
“Miss me already?”
“Terribly so.” you fiddle with the strings of Sam’s hoodie–the owner giggling to your direct confession. “I just noticed, but are these cameras in your bedroom?” your eyes flit to one to your right. 
Sam cleared her throat. “Before you detest the idea; baby, it’s all for safety. If it makes it all better, I’m the only one with access to the bedroom cameras.”
You almost snorted because of course, she would. 
Audibly, you sighed out of relief with a hand clutched to your chest. “Thank god. ‘cause I was about to touch myself.” 
You’ve dropped the words so casually that Sam for the first time, was out of words. Faintly, you picked up something on the other end, a sound like a clear fall–unbeknownst to you, you have successfully made her flustered beyond her comprehension.
“Sam? Don’t tell me you hung up on me,” you rolled your eyes.
The woman took a deep breath. “No. Still here.”
“Good…” 
Your eyes remained on the camera, giving the best of your pleading eyes–hoping it’ll somehow be visible enough through Sam’s static screen. Hand slithering on your ribs then your covered mounds, making you groan out loud and eventually your fingertips hovered around your pelvis–a flimsy underwear that you Sam chose for you to wear earlier. It was practically see-through. Your body felt feverish, eyes fluttered shut. 
It would be so easy to dip your fingers inside…
You hear Sam growl. “Don’t touch yourself. Not without me there. I swear to god, (y/n/n) I’m not playing with you…”
A whine escaped your lips at her order, actions coming into a full stop. It was no use to sneak off, aware now there’s cameras in her house and Sam was bound to figure it out no matter what. 
It took Sam half an hour to reach you. You’re met with a determined woman, loosening the tie on her neck and unbuttoning her dress shirt halfway as soon as she barged into her bedroom door—while you gasped, looking still the same as Sam last checked on her monitors.
She manhandled your body, as though you weighed nothing. It spurred your libido higher than ever, mouths crashing and Sam devouring you until your lips bleed and bruised. The only thing that came out of your mouth was her name and more moans that echoed beautifully in her room. Bodies flushed together, you grinded in perfect sync, breasts brushing that made you putty. The familiar gliding of her hands soon met your soaked center. Sam slid her long and slender fingers, entering you but not fully. She started to rub circles slowly until you were worked up enough, playing with pressure, she pumped them deep into your throbbing pussy. Sam grunted at the squelching sounds, obsessed with the warmth of your core. You easily took her in, greedily swallowing all of what she can offer to you.
The twitching of your stomach was absurd and seemingly nonstop. Yet again, Sam noticed, and she took out her coated fingers out of your sopping apex. 
“No, not yet princesa.” She devilishly giggled, breathless as you were on top of her lap. You simply cried and squirmed, as the lack of release was making you crazy.  “Give me a good reason,”
Your hips bucked but Sam was moving away. You didn’t like it at all. Surely, you were going to combust if you were deprived of this heaven for much longer.
“Please, I can be good! Sammy… I’d do better!”
How can Sam deny you now? She giggled at your state. Sam had to admit, edging you was a form of sick atonement that she wanted to pull out of you. Forged as a punishment for leaving her dry while she was understanding and patient. Her devotion was clear as a day and you’ve failed to notice that. Yet, it was also a ploy to have you in her orbit, even by sexual means. With a sardonic smile, Sam absolutely had fun with it.
“Now you’re talking. Just like how I want you, (y/n/n).”
With newfound fervor, she resumes her motions to your pulsating and insanely wet pussy. You clenched repeatedly around her digits. It released a throaty moan out of Sam, low and breathy, spurring you to arch your head back. 
“Tell me how much you need me.”
“N-need you… only—s-shit—just you, Sam! Nngh!”
Pride deeply surged on her chest. If it were possible, her love for you only heightened.
“Oh, I love you.” She confessed against your skin. “Cum for me, (y/n/n).”
The endearing look that Sam had in her hazel eyes had made you even more lightheaded as you took a peek at her. She loves you? You couldn’t believe it. Just in time, your body shook in pleasure as finally you were able to cum. With weeks worth of teasing, it definitely scratched an itch but somewhat it wasn’t enough, yet you couldn’t raise your voice for more as it exhausted you. Maybe you should start working on your stamina, you thought. But then again, Sam was insatiable with her teasing and foreplay. She had been sinfully eyeing you and grabbing you so casually without any promise of making you cum.
Your profession of love to Sam came out in a mumble. Of course, it was no-brainer that you reciprocate her love, too. She simply laughed at your state, body slumped and nuzzled on her neck, a gentle kiss pressed out of appreciation for her. Sam held you tighter, combing through your hair that had grown sticky due to sweat, all softly and breathing in your scent. She smiles upon realizing that you used her own shower items instead of yours, one that she provided, knowing which products you used religiously.
As this was happening, Sam bestowed your little date with a gift. A bloody pig head awaits the woman, the item placed not out of her doorstep but rather from the inside. The scene was gory for her or any sane person’s liking. The trail of redness was spread through her floor and has oxidized. It left a stench of rot, that flies were starting to appear in your date’s home. Sam is anything but rude, so her present came along with a note—one that relayed a clear message of threat for the woman to stay away from you and it would be better if she moved away.
Sam would have made her death swift, dealt with it clean this time as she has no longer a message to relay for you, a contradicting safety and fear which she can both offer—all in order to have you. 
Your stunt of touching yourself today effectively reduced Lucy’s sentence. She cut her plans short and had given this woman a second chance and made a simple scare instead of personally gutting her up with ease. Although if she pulled any attempts of challenging her again, Sam would no longer be merciful to her.
::
Another day of Sam giving you a bouquet of flowers. To her surprise, today was different. Soon as you placed them carefully on a vase filled with water, quickly you retrieved your own gift for her. She always gave you something and you wanted her to know how you always thought of her, too.
You handed Sam a dark blue colored mug that was rough around the edges, a proof of your inexperienced clay making. Designed with stars and the waxing crescent as the main subject, the outline is painted in gold. 
“What’s the occasion?” She asked, still in awe.
“Should there be any? It reminded me of you,” You smoothly replied. Her eyes twinkled and it was easy to say that it was a success.
Sam was over the moon. You remembered. Honestly, it was hard not to, because her pillow sheets were still related to the cosmic – only portrayed with much elegant material. Then her ramblings and how Sam would take you out to simply admire the moon at night. As she held your present carefully, you thought now of how it was a fitting symbol for her, with her tendencies of being a night owl and broody. She chuckled at your perception of her. 
“Oh and I’m broody?”
You add, "It makes you hot and mysterious though, don't worry."
“We should watch the night sky sometime again. I missed doing that with you.”
With Sam’s eyes crinkled in delight and her million dollar smile directed at you, caught you in her grasp with your feet in the air—her hold flooding you with warmth and adoration—it wasn’t much work for you to smoothen and forgive her of the previous disagreements you’ve had with the woman. 
She was simply your Sammy, far from the frightening glimpse you’ve seen of her as someone determined and powerful of a mob leader.
::
Somehow, you managed to get back unscathed when you returned to work. With absence equivalent to a honeymoon trip, you didn’t know what excuse the universe had provided over you. You explained a made up family-related emergency problem, even though you haven’t seen them in years, and it worked like a charm on your end. You weren’t fired even with the sudden absence, no resentment in your bosses’ tone, and your coworkers simply wondered and then welcomed you back.
What you did not know was that your absurd omnipotent of a girlfriend conjured something, effective enough not to pull much attention in tying her name with yours. Sam already invested in your company. It was clear for her that you wanted your own thing, getting out of work so quickly. She respected this wish of yours. A negative push from her would have made you shut like a clam and she didn’t want that—not when Sam was making progress already.
Were your spirits lifted? Without a doubt. Luck didn’t strike you this much, so you gladly took it in.
Initially, you planned to go back to your apartment after work then call your girlfriend. You can’t deny that you missed your own space, wondering if it was dust littered already, given your absence for how many days.
Although, a car was already waiting for you outside. 
“After you.” Martin greets you, opening the car in the backseat. You offer him a polite smile. To your surprise, Sam was seated there too. Immediately, you tackle the woman for a tight hug. Sam returns it with a loving smile and you didn’t want to let go of her addicting embrace.
She looked stunning with her navy turtleneck and usual trousers, along with her polished leather shoes. Sam’s attire always complemented her tanned skin that you love so much–especially with the gold accessories that adorned her look. If anything, getting a sight of her energized you and made your mouth water.
She laced your hands together. “How was work?”
“Good as it can get.” You sighed contentedly, head already leaning to Sam’s broad shoulder. “I don’t know what magic you pulled, but I wasn’t berated at all? And this guy from the other cubicle was the only thing that annoyed me by far.”
“What’d he do to you?” Even without looking, you can already see Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in concern.
You giggle as it wasn’t a serious matter. “Relax. I just couldn’t tune out his singing and humming today. It got on my nerves… he didn’t exactly have the voice of an angel.”
“Oh I’m sorry you had to put up with that?” Sam meekly says in hopes of comforting you and her thumb rubbing on the back of your hand.
“You know I should be the one asking you–how was your day?” you retort. You always wondered how it worked; Sam being a mob boss. She must’ve always been caught in some form of distress.
Sam bit her lip. She looked at the rear view mirror before answering you. There was nothing much to hide at this point.
“Good. Somewhat smooth, no one annoyed me with a shitty singing voice.” She replied in a deadpan which made you laugh. “No one had to face my knife nor my fists, surprisingly.” 
“That for real?” your eyes went wide.
“You asked,” she mumbled. Sam held your hand tighter as though you were going to disappear in thin air. “It’s nothing like a war, (y/n/n). I know your head is getting all creative–but the machine gun out in the open? Not real. Not an efficient way to stay low, either. Sometimes it’s about looking at paperwork and more on discussions. But lately it’s more of in between securing deals, cordially as we can. Then like I said, sometimes… it takes force and grit—in case things go south.”
A pout spreads on your lips. It pulled out a hearty chuckle from Sam. As she suspected, you indeed had a comical imagery of her work. 
What she didn’t know was how you grew into liking the vision of her being stern and domineering. You even thought of her office, how her seat must’ve looked like a throne to sit in. Completely lacking in warmth, assertive, cold and calculated as she gave orders around.
You blurt out, “That’s hot.”
“Hot?” Sam looked at you in disbelief and some flattery. “I didn’t expect that from you, (y/n/n).” an amused smile graced her features.
You simply shrugged and soon yawned.
“When was the last time you had time to rest? You deserve this, mi amor, and so much more. It wouldn’t hurt if you let go once in a while.”
It got you thinking. Sam is right. You weren't used to having this privilege; by means of simply resting and existing in a peaceful space. Always trying to get by, going through the tedious nine-to-five routine. You’re forgetting something but you have already succumbed to the idea that crashing onto your girlfriend’s place (once again) was a given, due to your sleepy state. 
“Before you fall asleep on me, I got you this,” Sam shuffled on her seat as soon as you leaned against the car’s headrest, mindlessly fiddling with the sun pendant placed below your jugular notch. Sam got it for you a while back.
She reached at the back of the car and pulled a gorgeous bouquet arrangement. It was becoming a common occurrence every week, since you managed to make a deal with the woman. You had issues with being spoiled too much and Sam petulantly met you halfway, understood it, even if she acted like a kicked puppy. This was her alternative of spoiling you of love—amongst other things. Sam balanced her unconventional approach of romance through this, willing to give this traditional courting-like gesture another shot, not wanting to be too rough with you as it wasn’t an image she wanted to be fully attached to. 
Another huge motivator for her was the discovery of your admittance when she came up with this unannounced, saying that the first and last time you received them was in high school and it was because of her. Sam can recall the time, unknowingly having missed the sight of you being tongue-tied and absolutely flustered. She loves how you glowed at this little gesture.
And now, Sam is eyeing you between like a meal to devour and the trace of gentleness is found on her hazel eyes, as always. Her fingers cradled under your jaw.
You can get used to this.
:: 
"But I'll miss you. didn't we plan movie night today?" A rare sight of Sam, pouting and tugging you close, was beyond endearing.
You almost felt bad. Pressing your lips against your girlfriend, you then lead her onto a chaste kiss. "I'm skipping just for tonight please? And it's not like I won't miss you too, either. because I certainly will."
"So smooth with your words."
"I've learned from the best."
Sam cocked an eyebrow. She didn't know whether she'd be pleased at this situation or not. Her issue lies from your current outfit, she thought it was too short. It didn’t help you were a walking vixen and dangerously unaware of it. The idea of you prancing around with filthy leering eyes following you all night? It made her blood boil.
That was already a job taken by her and hers alone.
Her grip loosened around your waist, turned into soft caressing. She beams at you, knowing it was your favorite sight and part of her.
"Mmm. Maybe it was bad that you were taking notes. Too much of it I'd say."
Your phone pings again, your friends were already telling you that they're on their way. A part of you detests to be away from Sam – but you think that your memory has gone oddly hazy and you cannot remember the last time you met up with your friends. You get out of your shared room but not without Sam hovering and sending you off with a kiss and personally driving you there.
Meanwhile Sam was somewhat pleased. Sure, she wanted all of your time, but she had to admit how she reveled in the way you have easily forgotten of her obsessive and conniving ways. Your girlfriend wouldn't let you out of her sight, of course. Constantly worried about your safety and a step ahead, decided to plant two men with a set of skills present on the scene; a safety net in case your fun night out changes its course, her gift of necklace served as an audio receiver and the expensive watch had a tracker.
What you hoped to be a good time, ended up on a terrible note. You disagree with your friends as you open up a few more details to them. It was all because of your curfew and they perceived your relationship with Sam as too intense. That was a given, right? It’s a love thing, you suppose. You fiddle with the necklace she gave you, pondering over how as though they didn't see Sam in the same light as you did. She wasn't borderline abusive. In fact, she had been greater than ever to you, more carefree, unrestrained and unfiltered. You feel it too, she was more relaxed and eager to disclose any information you wanted from her.
Now on your fifth drink? Or sixth? You scoffed and giggled. You were bummed because it took Sam a lot of convincing that you were going to be safe. That you had your own pepper spray with you and that nothing can happen with your friends beside you. It was good, refreshing even. Until it wasn’t.
“I’m just saying, you have to watch out for yourself. And we’re here. Anytime.”
“Are you sure you can trust her after that? She seems… pushy. Won’t take a no for an answer.”
“Seems too fast, (y/n). It won’t be bad if you raised your opinions every now and then, you know.”
It echoed once again to you. Sam was the best for you. Everything between you was consensual. You understood her ways, simply because it was how she was made. You can only imagine how several years of being moulded into a domineering leader with a strong gut have drastically shaped her, refusing to think of it further how you weren’t there for her. 
You downed another shot and as you drank away your disappointment of your friends’ criticism of your girlfriend, a greasy man was already eyeing you.
Then you realize Sam's words from one of the nights you spent with her. She was right; these people in your circle wouldn't get it. Not as much as the two of you do.
Upon your realization, a man not so discreetly manoeuvres his way through you. You deny him but he was insistent. It was gross how he was a mouth breather, his stench hovering over you. 
“The more the merrier, baby.” He didn't even believe that you had a girlfriend, in fact, he even grinned disgustingly at this information.
“You have one second before I call the fucking cops.”
“That’s a lame excuse–” He whined, looking away in disbelief thinking you were bluffing. “C’mon, I can make you straight… all it takes is a night with me,”
You took that chance to stealthily use your phone and clicked on speed-dial. You were surprised it connected to Sam instead of the cops. You don’t remember changing it although it was a better alternative, truthfully. With the initial shock, it override the rising suspicion from you; how your girlfriend set it herself.
Some men came over to assess what was happening. The greasy man rambled too much, far from convincing with how visibly uncomfortable you were. Thankfully, they came into your rescue. You hoped they were good guys. So far it seemed promising that they pushed the guy who was making you uncomfortable. They had a strong build and now were exchanging in a verbal disagreement. It was getting heavy that you had to step away and as soon as you bumped from someone at your back; it was your girlfriend, doe eyes swarmed comfort to your body. 
“Get in the car, mi amor. It’s parked at the front. Lock the doors and wait for me there, hm?” She caressed your cheeks. You were clearly shaken up, still Sam was proud of how you nodded and tried your best to look at her. “I’ll handle this.”
Her thumb caressing gently on your hips, you look at her once again, to see not even the situation and what it holds for the man—but to see if she was truly alright. Sam reassures you again that it’ll be alright and focuses again on the man that had been bothering you.
Where the hell were your friends? Sam groaned lowly in frustration. It was good how she decided it was a good idea to wait out for you. Who knows what could have happened. She takes a glance at the man who added rain on your terrible drinking night-out. She lured him out. He was ecstatic, the idiot not even knowing his fate for tonight. Him trying to take advantage of you sealed it for himself. 
Sam already figured that this would be easy, his throws starting on a terrible form, giving away how he didn’t have a proper knowledge of its basics. He might’ve been taller, but his lack of skill proved him to be useless. Sam immediately went for an opening, fist met his face then swoop his feet quite literally which hit his knees badly to the pebbled ground. He groaned out of pain, curses flowing out of his mouth.
“Please! I’ll do anything! Spare me, I haven’t- I didn’t even touch her!” He begged on his now decapacitated knees.
Sam quipped, “Should I be happy about that?”
“N-no, but–”
“You harassed her. Insisted on wanting to fuck her.”
Over a dim corner outside, Sam sighed and took out the silencer concealed in the back of her jeans, and personally shot him right in the head. She liked seeing her power over these people. Always begging for a way out, so desperate.
Her men didn’t even flinch, trained and desensitized. In another vehicle parked near to the scene, a few more men came out of it, dressed for clean up and quickly carried him out for disposal.
She didn't want things to be messy. But she had been listening to your entire conversation; unbeknownst to you that the necklace also served as a down low spy-like device for her. Sam was happy that you were quick to jump in her defense–how you trusted her. Frankly, she was afraid that her attitude and sense of ethics would be something you’d be disgusted with. Being proven otherwise, it warmed her heart, increasing her devotion tenfold if it were even possible at this point. 
It was easy to lure you out of your circle of friends grasp. She thought of some point how useless your friends would be, now that you have her. Sam knows they’ll only add as a burden and mess.
As she drove the two of you back home, her free hand constantly rubbed random patterns on your exposed thigh. The streetlights were just as warm as your girlfriend’s touch. Her constant glances at you each time you were in red light. The reassuring smile that barely left her plump lips. 
When you waited for her – you didn’t even care what could the man from the club could face. Was it terrible that you reveled in the high possibility of him being a dead meat?
One thing for sure is that you only had one good takeaway this evening.
With your parents out of the picture a long time ago, disapproving of your ‘lifestyle’, and siblings being far and preoccupied with their own lives — this was it for you: Sam is your family. Each time an emergency or a milestone happens to your life, only Sam is there for you, without fail.
You only needed her and she was more than enough.
::
"Tara wants to see you." Properly and not from afar as Sam instructed, the voice echoed in her mind. "Not today, because I want you all to myself right now. Some other time, maybe."
Your eyes crinkled. "When have you not? But yeah - I'm totally in. She was practically a baby when I last saw her." Both of you giggled at your remark.
You discovered another room in Sam’s house. Barely gone through all of them, you found out just now how she had a gaming area. Littered in between retro and modern game machines, and how it glowed differently from arcades, made it appear much inviting. Now in low lighting in the afternoon, you ended up playing pool with your girlfriend. It was a game you always sucked at; with your shitty aim and handling. Bad news for you, it’s Sam’s favorite and opposed to you, of course she was great at it.
Terribly cocky too.
Not that you minded, because she was attractive for how she flaunted it. She’s carefree with you, seemingly retracting to her playful self that gave her a youthful joy of a glow. With her dressed up in tight cycling shorts that were covered with a sweater around her midthighs; Sam looked appetizing.
Back to the game, your motor movements suffered. Each time you aim and thrust the pool stick, the ball bounced off like a fish - far from the pocket points. Missing the target was also a common mistake for you.
She laughed. “No, baby, you’re holding it wrong too.”
“How is it any different from yours?” You retort.
“It can be your posture as well and the pressure you apply when hitting. Don’t be mad now.”
Huffing, you were so close to breaking this pool stick. “Maybe if you showed me!” 
Sam chuckled. She liked your adorable scrunch getting all focused to at least score a point. she gets from your behind, bodies now flushed. Her soft chuckling continues as she notices how you stiffened at the contact. It blows her mind, how years ago things were in reverse; it was her who always panicked at your comforting touch. she welcomed it, relishing each second, replaying the memory of times she missed you before meeting again. She beat herself up mentally at how different she should have approached it.
Sam shook her head, focusing on the present. she has you now and it's all that matters.
“You just have to…” She took your forearms in a grasp and smoothly ran them to your hands. “Hold it like that. Your other fingers for balance however, depend on your level of comfort. It’s a matter of practice–which is what we’re doing.”
“Is that so?” You tease her, turning your head enough to meet her face, hooded eyes greeting you. You feel Sam growing breathless much as you do.
Her hazel eyes had a specific glint to them. They beautifully shone and no doubt had a swirl of lust growing bigger onto them. You purse your lips to hide the spreading smile. Instead, you retaliate by leaning over the table exaggeratingly; practically bending over it. Sam could no longer hold back a small moan escaping her mouth.
It was a matter of a different game and Sam decides she’ll humor you.
However, it was proving to be a difficult task. You just had to rub your ass against her hips. Now practically enveloped by her, weight almost all into you. You wiggle a bit more. Then you felt something else. Fuck. Was she…packing?
She had a cocky smile now. It’s been a while since she has used this on you.
 “Mmm, mi amor. And your aim? Don’t push it up like this,” She grabbed your hand to reenact it. The ball thumped as it bounced – showing how you usually hit. More of her weight was on you, her front deliciously pressed on your back. “I noticed you tend to do that.”
“Oh, do I?”
You were playing dumb now. Although, with skins inevitably brushing, it doesn't take long for the two of you to crumble and give in to do something with the tension.
“Fuck this.” Sam muttered, fingers digging on your thighs as she immediately hoisted you up to the pool table. Back of your thigh’s skin rubbed to the rough texture of its surface, somewhat adding to your gnawing hunger.
Sam was bouncing with excitement to take you in here. Mouths crashing in dire need of each other, she explored your mouth as though she hasn’t before, tugging your bottom lip until you tasted iron.
“Oh, oh… god,” you whimper.
Sam gawks at you with darkened eyes. “You think you can tease me like that?”
Your jaw slacked as Sam's teeth sunk in the skin of your neck, far from finished and continued by nibbling with pent up fervor, and the pleasure of her ministrations as the moans rolled off your tongue with ease. Her open mouthed kisses were messy against your skin but nevertheless, you welcomed her through arching your neck to give her more space to paint you red and purple.
Some of the balls clanked as you guys moved desperately, grinding on each other.
“Look at you.” She giggled and had your cheeks on a firm grip. “My pretty girl so eager to get fucked dumbly. Did you feel my cock earlier at your little tease of a show?”
You helplessly looked at her with half-lidded eyes, nodding.
“Yes, please…Sam,”
“Please what?” She mocked you, doe eyes filled with mirth. Her hands slowly moved from your cheek to your neck. Sam gives it a squeeze, making you hum in delight. “I won’t continue if you don’t use your words properly.”
“I…I want you to breed me, like you said months ago,” you murmured and looked away.
Blood rushed in your clit. You were throbbing in need and full of embarrassment. But it was the truth that you wanted to be fulfilled. You didn’t know it caught Sam in a surprise, her joy and libido had gone through the roof.
Sam relishes onto this, a wolfish smile on her features as she takes every inch of your skin with her lips and hands. And you? you can barely keep up, clung onto your girlfriend’s neck to gravitate yourself in the spiraling haze in your head, pretty sounds continuously tumbling off your mouth.
What you want, is what you’ll get.
You managed to take off your top, now almost completely bare in front of your girlfriend.
“Good girl. So, so good. I knew you had it in you, mi amor.” You’re met with Sam’s patronizing smile. You gulp in excitement at the praise she’d given you. “You remember your safe word right?” She asked as her hands wandered, pulling your own shorts down and underwear. As you nodded, a predatory look was fixed on her face. “I’m going to make you forget it, I promise.”
Her irises were ignited with a newfound desire, turned you on your back and bent over as previously, against the pool table.
Sam stroked her strap and adjusted your legs. She wanted you wide and ready. Your slick was smeared on your innermost thighs and some of them formed with strings of your arousal, greeting her as she spread you out. God, she can’t wait to ruin you.
Without warning, the skin of your pulsating hole was being dragged out by the strap's length and all you can do is whimper loudly in complaint. The head teased you a little with her pace agonizingly slow. As she pulled out though it didn't last as she decided to ram the entire length back inside of you, absolutely filling you to the brim. You moaned as it burned inside of you. Sam reach on your tits for balance as she started thrusting, picking up a pace. With all things going on at once, your eyes rolled at the back of your head and face pressed against the rough surface.
"Wait... oh my god, fuck, wait!" You trembled underneath her, your palms outward against her the table, weakly attempting to push away determined Sam. "So- so big, Sammy, I don't... oh! d-don't think, I can't!" You deeply underestimated her cock. But reeling onto it was simply addicting that you felt conflicted.
“You can and you will. You wanted this, didn’t you (y/n/n)?” She mocks you again. Sam was right, you wanted this. “Whoring yourself to me, this is the least you can do. Fucking. Take. It.” Your girlfriend punctuated each of her words with a hard thrust, each time you swore that it went deeper into your walls.
Sam was spurred on with your erotic reactions. She wanted to see your limit, see you truly fall apart. For god’s sake, you were already dripping wet, gushing and smeared all over Sam’s cock and hips. Once she found a rhythm pleasing to you both, she moaned along you as the base also met her clit – sending shocks on her end as well. 
You were so fucked out right now and an orgasm was ripped out of you so suddenly. “Nngh… oh!”
Breath heaving, you felt the wetness run down your legs. Sam slowed her movements and stayed deep inside of your walls. More liquid gushed out of you, mixed with your girlfriend’s fake cum. It felt heavy and so full inside of you that you can’t get enough. It was beyond gratifying and out of body experience.
“Another one, come on. I have to fill you up to the brim,” Sam whispered against your ear, white-hot that it sent shivers down your spine. Your hips surely will bruise after this, as she resumed pounding relentlessly against the fine wood. It also made you embarrassingly more wet, too. Her pounding didn’t falter at all, Sam’s own hips still at work.
“Fuck– I….Ah!” Your eyes were squeezed shut.
Sam took pride in your current state. She gripped you tighter on your lower back and the other firm on the edge of the table. Sheer sweat already covered the two of you and the pool table continued to shake, now no longer in a prim and proper placement; instead it was crooked due to the movements that were forced upon it. You were fucking like animals.
A vast incoherent mumblings came in a slew to you. Your head pressed against the table and tears came out of the corner of your eyes. Your ears weakly register the mean giggling of Sam. The erotic sound of the skin-to-skin slapping continued to fill the space of your room, synchronizing with the creaking sound of the table. With your mouth agape, you felt the shaft being thrusted in a different angle, the cock’s tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. Sam dug so deep into you that it made you dizzy already.
“Gonna fill you up real good,” Sam continued to penetrate you mercilessly, her aggressive and determined grunts vibrating pleasingly to your body and adding to the carnal state both of you were in. It was too easy to sliver her cock in and out of you now, fully lubricated given your sopping core. “My breedable little bitch. Fuck, I’d say you’re meant for this. Meant to take this huge cock, hm?” The stretch had you bucking your hips onto Sam, gyrating along her teasing thrusts in and out. “Tell me how good it feels. How I make you feel so good.” Her honeyed voice taunting you. Begging you.
You envision Sam’s words to your heart. If only it were possible, you wouldn’t mind a single bit of carrying her child. After all, there are countless good qualities that your girlfriend beautifully possesses. 
“You… you feel so fucking good against me,” A strained, throaty moan tumbled out of you. Sam hummed in your validation. “O-only you can have me- do me like this, Sammy…”
With your reassurance, came the rocking feeling of being so full again. Now Sam doesn’t move an inch, refusing to do so and determined to keep all of it plugged inside of you. You’re sure that she has moulded her entire cock out of your warm walls, stretched it out with no hesitation until it explored undiscovered spots from before.
To your shock, Sam flipped you again. It was insane how she recovered so quickly. Almost buck naked she sat now on the pool table and made you come up to ride her properly. She’s met with barely a resistance on your pussy as she easily shoved it up again with no trouble, moaning loudly and growling possessively as the curve of her length faintly made its outline known to your lower tummy’s skin. 
“God you look so beautiful with my cock inside of you.” Her grunts were vivid as Sam’s white hot breath directly hit your ears. You feel your core gush more wetness, body all feverish, loving how she's also desperate and enjoying this much as you do. 
She needs you. She admires you. Sam wants all of you.
You bounced helplessly and cried some more, to the point that your safeword dangerously hovered on the tip of your tongue. Until finally, Sam emptied out her fake cum inside of you – some of them dribbling down and smeared some more. Both of you were heavily breathing and Sam balanced your bodies – yours being slumped and weak against her, breathing ragged and eyelids heavy. You were fully spent and satisfied.
“So beautiful. Are you alright, mi amor?” Sam asked in pure concern. The lust on her eyes slowly dissipated, soft and only focused on your current state.
“Y-yes,”
Then a person barges in. You’re pretty sure that it’s a man who just squealed. He caught the sight of you and your girlfriend in a compromising position. You jump slightly and it was a bad idea, because one: you are naked, and two: Sam was still nestled deep inside of you. She also grunted at your accidental rocking.
Your stomach churned as you and Sam sober up quickly. Of course, you didn't like being seen like this if it weren’t only for Sam’s eyes to perceive you unashamedly. As expected, Sam hurriedly covered you first – fast and most as she can, at least. Your back was turned away from the man who entered the room, facing the wall.
Meanwhile, Sam had her chin tilted up, seemingly exasperated. If it weren't for your comforting touch on her forearm, she's sure of combusting in a messier manner, sporting the intimidating signature look on her demeanor. She almost looked unrecognizable with her cold and unamused gaze.
"I instructed you to knock three times." Sam quipped with a deep voice. “The receiver was also there, was it not? You could have buzzed in and waited outside.”
"Miss Loomis.. I- I- I did, I knocked before—”
Being in closer proximity to her, you felt some wetness gush out of your pussy. Blood rushed on your cheeks, as you made the previously pristine and high-end of a pool table now all messy and coated of your fluid. You caught a sliver of Sam’s defined hipbones and lines in her abdomen were prominent more than ever. She tucked her strap back as she pulled the cycling shorts up as quickly as she could. The room felt still for what feels like hours. 
"And is that enough? I strictly told you to never enter, especially when I’m with my partner."
Sam had a scrutinizing look over him. She’s more than fucking pissed. The mob boss has never seen his face before. It must've been a new recruit. If it were any other mistake, maybe Sam would have spared him. 
But no, he had to walk in while you were naked.
She bent down to reach underneath the pool table. She retrieves a gun. Your eyes widen but she hushes you, reassuring that everything is fine. although her eyes expressed the clear fuming with her jaw clenched, you gulped at the sight. 
Sam scoffed, she hated being messy in front of you. For her, increases the likely of you leaving her. "Don't turn around." She orders you still with gentleness lace on her tone. "I mean it. Just… stay here." 
Okay, you're more than fine with the sight.
Definitely so wet and turned on.
Sam moves and so does the man. Out of the room, you hear a few clicks and the cocking sound of the gun – the metal, spring, and unlocking of the weapon and you don't look further than that. And with the door slightly ajar, there's a loud sound that clearly indicates a shot. It's quick and followed with a heavy thud. A clear shot has been made. Your eyes widened. It rang your ears a little but it soon faded. 
"What the hell was that?"
"He's a dumb one, a new recruit." Your girlfriend replied blankly. She fluidly moves around the room and reaches for her phone, eyes not leaving your naked body. "I need you to do some cleaning up- uh huh. in here, near the living room- second one, yes." Then she quickly hung up.
"I hate being interrupted. He had to ruin it. Almost saw you, too. I'm sorry baby, but I had to finish him off.”
Sam sighed and rubbed her temple. She wasn't a fan of losing control in front of her beloved. Although this one tested her greatly, feeling an immense protectiveness, she didn't like one bit having any of her men seeing you in this vulnerable and naked state. Prancing around normally as though your sight isn't engraved in their filthy little dimwit brains. Now she worried only about your reaction; knowing your initial response was to run away, same as you did after opening up to her even then. She always pulled you close—held you tighter—whenever you did. 
She left a tender kiss behind your ear. You were immediately flooded with comfort. Her touch had a tendency to numb your worries down. It was familiar and gentle. Were you afraid? Surprisingly, you were not.
Out of all times you’ve seen her ‘lose’ it – was seemingly always out of making sure that you're safe, free from worries, gives you enough room as much as she can (knowing that Sam cannot resist invading your personal space) and has done anything to harm you in any way.
Sure, she just killed in front of you. But now, you can care less – knowing what your girlfriend’s nature and work entails. Besides, she has done it in your honor. In a twisted way, you interpreted it as a sign of her unwavering commitment to you; that you’ve always been a family to her – one that she plans on building one with, anyway. So instead, you reach to cradle Sam’s cheek and pressed a lingering kiss on her irresistible burgundy lips.
“You have me, always. Don’t worry.” You profess to her - a promise you intend to keep.
Sam grinned, visibly relaxing. Finally you fully understood her viewpoint.
Does it make you equally sick? Who the hell knows.
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taglist: @not-alesha, @women-lover-kisser , @bluetreecloud20 , @danniackerman , @natsbraids , @melissabarreraswife , @bratydoll , @fantasylandbitch , @rocknr0ll , @mokotodenis123 , @deliriosinrose , @red1culous , @jennasoneanonly , @gaylorvader , @pixielovers2account **i can't tag others? :[
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puddingyun · 11 months ago
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tone . ݁₊ ⊹ k.hj
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hongjoong x reader
18+ mdni
: 985 words, smut, auralism/voice kink, fingering, some dirty talk :
day 5 of fff24 (catching up since i got sick (╥ᆺ╥;)) ♡
"I'm sorry I'm so late, baby."
Hongjoong's voice pulled you out of the light sleep you'd fallen into. A smile played on your lips as you felt your boyfriend crawl into bed behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you close. 
"I got so caught up I didn't realise what time it was," he whispered. He didn't sound sleepy at all, even though when you opened your eyes to squint at your phone the screen displayed a staggering 3:00 AM. You hummed softly as one of Hongjoong's hands slid up your pyjama top to rest against your stomach. "I'm sorry for waking you up."
"It's okay. Your feet are cold," you mumbled, which made Hongjoong giggle behind you. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck and tangled his feet even more with yours, pulling you both flush together. "Keep talking, Joongie."
"Okay," Hongjoong murmured, his fingers moving back and forth against your skin. "I missed you all day. Missed hearing you talk, and your footsteps around the apartment. I kept wondering what you were up to. What did you get up to, hon?"
Your mind was so fuzzy from listening to Hongjoong talk that you almost forgot to reply. 
"Uhm," you stalled, pressing your thighs together as you tried to remember what you did while Hongjoong was out. "I finished some work in the morning after you left and in the afternoon I watched a movie... Some supernatural thing, like a rip-off of The Ring."
"Just a typical day, huh?" Hongjoong hummed, stretching his fingers out to let his pinky rest beneath the waistband of your panties. When you mumbled out a soft 'uh-huh', Hongjoong exhaled quietly, amused by your sleepy voice. You felt butterflies fill your stomach at the sound of it. "Mine was the same, just finishing things up and brainstorming new- hey, baby, why're you squirming so much?"
"Nothing," you huffed softly, though you could feel your cheeks heating up when he called you out. Hongjoong grunted, a small sound that told you he didn't really believe your reply, and then sighed so that his breath fanned out over the back of your neck. "Just finish telling me about your day?"
"Okay, well... I've been picking up the guitar more often. Maybe tomorrow I'll show you the songs I've learned," he rambled on, not pausing to mention the way you were almost constantly shifting your thighs, seeking friction to accompany the warmth growing between your legs at the sound of Hongjoong's voice. "...I was going to get an energy drink but one of the staff members kept going on about how they aren't good for you so I ended up getting a coffee instead. But then later on I saw Wooyoungie with one and nobody was telling him to be careful so I don't know what that was about."
You made a non-committal sound in response, trying to pretend like you were listening when in reality Hongjoong's words were all getting muddled in your head, blurred around the edges and scratching an itch you hadn't noticed was there.
"Baby?" Hongjoong's voice called softly. 
"Hm?" you replied, pouting at his voice coming to a stop even if it was just to call you a petname. 
"Are you getting off on this?" he asked, and this time you could hear a smirk in his voice. You stuttered, trying to come up with a believable answer, but Hongjoong cut you off with a giggle. "It's okay. You're cute. Want me to finish telling you about my day?"
You paused, weighing up your embarrassment against your desire to deal with the sudden wave of arousal so you could get back to sleep. Eventually, the latter won out, and you relaxed in Hongjoong's hold again. 
"Yes please," you murmured, feeling like you were asking for a bedtime story. Hongjoong's lips pressed against your shoulder in a feverish kiss before he resumed his earlier ramblings.
This time, as he spoke, his hand slowly moved beneath your panties. When his fingers came into contact with the wetness on your lips his breath hitched momentarily, then his fingers began rubbing circles against your clit with just enough pressure to make your breathing uneven. 
"And then we had a meeting to try on some new stage outfits, they got us fitted and everything... The colours seemed sorta off to me but they said that under the stage lights and all of that it'd look fine," he mumbled, his voice slowly becoming rougher around the edges as your arousal became more evident. Your shaky breaths turned into hushed moans, skin tingling everywhere that Hongjoong touched and the pool of arousal in your stomach getting dangerously close to spilling over. 
You felt two of his fingers press into you, and as he bent them inside of you his palm rubbed against your clit, making you groan into your pillow. A soft nip to your shoulder made you gasp, Hongjoong's teeth digging into your skin hard enough to leave a mark. 
"You're so fucking cute. I come home and don't even say anything dirty to you and here you are, making a mess on my fingers," he mumbled against your skin, his fingers picking up their pace. "All I have to do is talk to you about my day and you're rubbing your thighs together trying to get off. You're so fucking precious."
The way the curse word rolled off of his tongue was enough to push you over the edge, clenching around his fingers as you came hard. Behind you Hongjoong trailed a line of kisses along your skin, lips curved into a smile the whole time. 
Once your breathing had slowed back down Hongjoong gave your waist a tight squeeze.
"Let me get you some water baby," he whispered, kissing your temple as he got up. "Then I'll let you get back to sleep." 
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harry-styles-obsessed · 9 months ago
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Silent treatment
You all seem to love the smut sooo I decided why not get ✨extra✨ smutty and give you something else(; MINORS DNI
Synopsis: Harry’s a billionaire. He’s been working 24/7 not giving you any attention like you often experience with him… one day he comes home and expects you to be all lovey dovey only to learn that you’re ignoring him… one way or another he’ll have to get your attention and earn it.
Trigger warnings: dominant harry, slight aggression, oral fem receiving, fingering, spanking, p in v, C word, edging, denial, orgasm control, degrading, kinda mean! Harry just general smutty things
©️Please do not copy or translate my work
“I’m home” his voice was loud and clear as it echoed around the silent home, usually there would be music playing or the tv on but there was nothing… only silence… “baby?” He questioned looking around “sweetheart where are you?” He checked the living room, kitchen, bathroom before headed upstairs checking all of upstairs before finding you in your and his shared bedroom “there you are my love,” he spoke with a smile gazing at you. You laid on the bed wearing a silk robe that barely covered your nude body— he stared at you, watching you read the story, him watching as your fingertips began turning the pages little by little and soon he was noticing that you were blatantly ignoring him. His brows furrowed slightly “earth to y/n?” He wore a black button up shirt that was unbuttoned at the top and black trousers to match it, his hands soon resting on his hips “alright what’s going on?” He questioned watching as your eyes eventually moved to look at him, only earning an eye roll from you before you looked back at your book.
He slowly walked closer to you before stopping just beside the bed staring down at you “you know I can get you to talk… and when I make you talk… force you to talk to me I won’t stop.” His words were menacing, underlined with a certain dangerous tone but you still continued to ignore him. He was never aggressive with you, even in bed he was rarely aggressive or even vicious but that all changed rather suddenly. He perched on the edge of the bed as he stared at you, before slowly tracing his fingertip from your exposed thigh and up to the inner seam of the nightgown that barely covered you, before with his free hand he snatched the book from you making your lips part your brows furrowing as you grew slightly annoyed before trying to snatch the book back with a few huffs and grunts only for him to toss the book onto the floor, his hand then effortlessly grabbing onto both your wrists and pinning your wrists down above your head a small gasp coming from your mouth and he stared down at you with a small smirk
“Now will you tell me what’s earned me the treatment of being ignored?” He questioned raising his brows watching as you just stared at him silently yet some excitement lingered in your eyes showing you liked where this was going, but at the same time you had no clue what he was going to do to you. You felt his free hand trace shapes into your inner thigh a shaky breath coming from you as he kept his eyes on you, before his finger trailed to your aching heat that was gradually growing wetter and wetter just from the thoughts spiralling round your head. He slowly dipped his fingertip in between your pussy lips using his index finger and thumb to slowly part them as he gazed down at you watching as you wriggled slightly a small whine coming from your lips “oh… that’s what makes you weak?” He mused with a evident smirk before he hummed still keeping a hold of your wrists not allowing you to move as he soon thrusted his long slender finger into your tight cunt, the gruelling and punishing pace of his finger thrusting in and out of you constantly at such a perfect angle making his finger touch against your G-spot over and over again, watching your reactions— all of them— the way you threw your head back and panted struggling to stay quiet as moans and whines came from you.
Soon he slipped in a second finger as he curled both fingers deep within your tight heat, your hips jolting weakly as eventually you couldn’t help but cry out his name his thumb drawing slow circles against your clit forcing your hips to buck over and over, the pleasure forcing the sounds and cries from you as you moaned his name. “There we go… not so quiet after all hm? Told you, you couldn’t stay quiet. I know how to make you tick.” His lips curled upwards in a small grin as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. The pace of his fingers and the delicate curl of his fingers that drove you utterly insane had your walls clenching down around his fingers over and over again, and upon hearing your moans and whines grow louder and the way your walls massaged his fingers and twitched against them he didn’t stop- no- he continued going
“You want to cum, hm?” He cooed to you watching as you nodded “oh yeah? Yeah I’m sure you do darling… do you think you deserve to cum?” He continued thrusting his fingers in and out of you keeping up the quick pace watching as you nodded pathetically before he without much warning pulled his fingers from your drenched hole. “Well, I beg to differ sweetheart. Only good girls get to cum.” He spoke simply as you whined and whimpered, your thighs trembling ever so slightly.
“If you talk to me I’ll let you cum.” He spoke teasingly and you whimpered “why, were you giving me the silent treatment, hm?” He asked softly but he had a pretty good idea. “Is it because you’re a fucking slut in need of a good fucking?” His words made you whimper and you nodded your head over and over again “oh is that so you naughty girl” he chuckled softly “please- please need to cum.. need to feel good… please Harry… please..” he tutted slightly as he stared at you before he slowly let go of your hands but your wrists remained weakly laid against the pillow, before he slowly leaned in closer to you “no.” He spoke softly as he shook his head, denying you of it before he stood up from the bed analysing you- studying all of you before he smirked slightly
“Roll over. Onto your tummy.” He demanded, watching as you just remained still and he stared at you unimpressed “three, two–“ and finally you obeyed rolling onto your tummy. He then knelt down onto the bed his large hands slowly stroking over your ass cheeks slowly and gently “you want my attention…. Is that your issue? Needy for my attention and love?” He spoke watching you nod and he hummed “use your words.” He demanded. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” You cried out and he smiled “right…” he trailed off hands continuing to stroke against your ass cheeks gently, the silence deafening as he remained silent for a few moments before finally bringing his hand down against your ass cheek smacking your ass hard, the harshness of it leaving a very visible red handprint as you whimpered Harry doing the exact same thing again in the same exact place making you moan “oh my pretty girl likes being spanked does she? Oh of course you do. Such a dirty pathetic slut.”
You moaned heavily as he continued to slap your ass multiple times, before he aimed his hits from where your asscheek met your thigh- slapping against the little crease watching as you jumped, only for a moan and cry to leave your lips, Harry chuckling softly “oh such a good girl hm?” His light spanks continued raining down against your skin until your ass was almost bright red. He smoothed his hands against the marks against your ass and smiled listening to you whimper as he soothed the stinging skin, but that didn’t last long as without much warning he pulled you so your hips were dangling off of the edge of the bed, and he easily flipped you around so you were now looking at him “harry please I need to cum. Please.. I can’t take it anymore..” you moaned out desperately.
“Y/n… I want you to beg me… beg me and maybe I’ll let you cum this time.” He spoke and you nodded fervently “don’t stop begging.” He spoke simply before his lips and tongue attached to your clit, beginning to suck the bud in between his lips suckling against it as he flicked his tongue against the bundle of nerves watching as your hips twitched desperately a cry leaving your lips as you panted “please! Please! I want to cum! Please! I’ll be a good girl for you! Please!” You began begging over and over again, mindlessly, not thinking straight as the pleasure overwhelmed your head your breathing heavy as you squeezed your eyes shut your walls clenching around nothing as he continued to lather his tongue all over your hungry pussy. As his tongue continued teasing against your clit, he lifted his head stopping the pleasure making you cry out “shhh…. Y/n reach down. Fuck yourself with your fingers.” Harry demanded and as if a puppeteer was controlling your hand you dipped your hand down to your aching pussy. He watched as your fingers began thrusting deep within your cunt over and over again your hips jerking as your moans grew louder, he just watched as you toyed with yourself, his hand drawing circles into your clit as you continued moaning desperately. You were a mess for him and Harry loved it… he loved how messy you were for him and as your moans grew louder and he watched your pussy clenched around your fingers he quickly grabbed your wrist forcing it to halt, stopping your movement
“How badly do you need to cum?” He spoke teasingly, and you whimpered “so bad please… please… I’ll let you do anything… please!” Harry’s cock twitched in his pants and he clenched his jaw slightly before humming “good response.” He then pulled your hand from your pussy and instead replaced it with his own, his long fingers pumping in and out of you at a merciless pace as his tongue and lips began toying with your clit as screams of euphoria began leaving your lips, your sensitive clit even more sensitive from him toying with it his movement remaining fast as your body reacted to each feeling “c’mon.. c’mon… cum on my fingers… c’mon… cum right fucking now” he demanded watching you come undone right beneath him, your jaw slackening as you tilted your head back your breathing heavy as a sharp moan left your lips your hips bucking into his mouth as he fucked you through your orgasm a slight bead of sweat on your forehead as you panted your eyes rolled back into the back of your head your breathing fast as you tried to calm yourself down.
Harry’s fingers eventually halted but he didn’t pull them out only curling them slowly into you over and over again constantly playing with you “you want my cock?” He asked you knowing how fuzzy your hearing was, but still you nodded desperately and he chuckled “oh my pathetic sweet darling…” he hummed out “so needy for my cock. Want me to fucking overstimulate you hm? Until you’re screaming… until you’re messy? Yeah? Oh I’ll do that just for you.” He hummed out the lewd words only turning you on further, hearing the sound of material hitting the floor before feeling his hard cock press just between your thighs, the tip of his cock teasing against your pussy lips before he began edging himself in, letting out a low groan as he began slowly fucking into you, little by little until his hips were pressed against yours, rocking lightly against you as you moaned in pleasure his moans and groans soft as he lowered his head down taking your nipple between his lips as he swirled his tongue around it, nipping at it gently as your hips bucked into his. He was ravenous for you.
Soon he had kissed you deeply just as he picked up the pace, thrusting in and out of you at a merciless pace your lips parted against his as you groaned into his mouth, crying out in pleasure, Harry taking that as his chance as he slipped his tongue into your mouth— the both of you making out as he fucked you long and hard. Eventually he pulled back from the kiss, leaving a gentle but long line of saliva trailing from both your lips before it snapped and faded away as he leaned his head back, his thrusts grew harder and faster the sound of skin hitting against skin and lewd sounds echoing around the room being the only thing heard before eventually his hips jolted as you both orgasmed, his thrusts being slightly sloppy as he moaned before he kissed you again deeply keeping his lips pressed against yours as he breathed heavily, before finally pulling back “fuck… such a good girl… fucking hell… knows how to make me feel good hm…” he began trailing kisses against your neck, remaining inside of you as he just laid against your naked body, both of you nude and sweaty as he gripped onto you, his kissing soothing and loving his breathing slowly calming down before he let out a soft hum “I love you so much… but don’t ever ignore me again…” he chuckled out softly “or do… I quite liked this.” He spoke with a small smirk and you smiled lazily, leaning up to kiss his lips “I love you too…”
You both stayed in that position for a while, Harry allowing your tight pussy to massage his cock in the best ways. He could’ve stayed with you like this forever… in fact he intended to. When he fucked you like this he knew you weren’t just made for him but your body was made for him too.. maybe he was far too possessive but you were all his and he wouldn’t ever get bored of fucking you ruthlessly over and over.
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lumitoiile · 30 days ago
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zhongli : [fleeting.]
☆ — tw! + content: by the time the lord of geo even comes to terms with his feelings, it's already far too late... angst, themes of d3.th. gn! reader (no pronouns.)
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throughout the extended course of his life, zhongli has long since learned to appreciate the beauty in all things—even the temporary ones. 
the way the leaves fall from trees, the glow of lanterns at night, the way the wind breezes through the streets of liyue harbor... all things that would eventually come to pass, eroding away with time. mortals were very much the same. he has walked alongside them, observed them, and let them go, as is the way of the world.
then you came along.
you weren't the first human to intrigue him, but there was something bewildering about your presence in his life. perhaps it was how you treated him so unguardedly, never hesitating to share your thoughts, your laughter, your kindness.
you worked at a small tea shop he frequented, and though he'd initially visit for the quality of the tea, he found himself returning for another reason entirely. he told himself it was simple admiration, an appreciation for your warmth and the light you brought into the lives of others. but deep down, he knew he couldn't be fooled.
there was something different about you. something he could never fully place. it gnawed at the edges of his mind, bothering him in ways that defied his understanding. you would smile at him with an openness that felt disarmingly sincere, and speak to him with an ease he'd only ever known among those closest to him in his long, distant past.
it was troubling. dangerous. even in his mortal guise, he should have known better than to allow such feelings to grow.
so he kept his distance. you were temporary, after all; a fleeting thing. even when you would reach out with a friendly invitation or make a small effort to draw him closer, he would find an excuse to step back. to draw a line, to remind himself who he was... and what you were.
he decided he would simply admire you from afar, steadfast in his resolve and having convinced himself he was doing the right thing. what would come of permitting himself to indulge? only heartache and loss, things he had seen unfold countless times before.
there was one day when you had lingered by his table a bit longer than usual, a hopeful look in your eyes. "mister zhongli, would you care to join me on a walk? my shift ends soon, and the sunset is just lovely at this hour."
he hesitated, a flash of warmth stirring in his chest at the thought alone. he could almost picture it, walking with you, sharing a quiet moment alone together as the sun dipped below the horizon.
but he would not let himself yield. he cleared his throat, offering an apologetic smile. "i appreciate the offer, but i have business to attend to."
you nodded once and tried to hide the disappointment in your eyes. but he saw through you, and the sight lingered with him long after he left the tea shop.
still, no matter how many times he had refused you, your kindness never wavered. as the years passed by, you continued to reach out in small ways—a shared story, a cup of tea specially brewed just the way he liked, an invitation to join you on an evening stroll. sometimes he accepted, allowing himself brief moments of joy and companionship.
but he always maintained a wall between the two of you, an invisible barrier he felt he could not cross. he constantly reminded himself that it was for the best; you were human, he had told himself, incredibly fragile. it would be cruel to impose on your life, no matter how brief it might be. the least he could do was ensure that your world remained free of his interference.
but time moved on, as it always does.
your laughter grew quieter, your once sure steps slower. zhongli saw the signs and felt the familiar pang of inevitability. he watched as you grew older, the years etching lines of wisdom into your face and leaving your loud, bright voice soft with age, until one day... you simply weren't there.
he visited the tea shop for the first time in ages, only to receive confused looks and strange stares upon asking for you. who was he searching for? there was no one here by that name, they had said. no one they knew of.
you were gone.
loss was not a new experience for zhongli. though it wasn't until he reached the place where your ashes had been scattered—a spot up in the mountains overlooking the harbor—that he truly understood the finality of it all. there would be no more lingering glances, soft smiles, or warm invitations to walk with you and admire the sunset. he would never again see the way your eyes lit up when you'd greet him hello, or hear your laughter.
the regret sank in like a stone, unyielding and overwhelming. he had anticipated this. he thought he had prepared himself for this. but the painful ache in his chest grew into something sharp, something that twisted with every breath he took.
he knelt there, reflecting on every opportunity he had missed, the words he never expressed, the warmth he had turned away from. he told himself it was for the best, that he was doing what was right... that a god had no business falling for a mortal. yet here he was, mourning you with a grief so profound it left him hollow.
"i thought this was the answer," he said, his words disappearing into the gentle breeze. "i believed i could spare myself this pain by keeping you at arm's length. but perhaps... i was a fool."
the wind rustled gently around him, offering a small sense of comfort. he closed his eyes and allowed the ache to settle within him. he stayed there for what must have been hours, grieving quietly as cherished memories of you played in his mind. in that moment, he realized that there had been no safety in the distance he kept, no way to avoid the torture of your absence.
and as the sun faded below the mountains, casting the harbor in hues of gold and amber, he had finally declared the words he had never spoken aloud.
"i cared for you," he whispered. "more than i should have. more than you knew..."
the wind carried his words away, fading into the stillness of the world. morax, the god of contracts, had lost something he could never retrieve—not with all the wealth and wisdom in the world.
perhaps in another life, he could have loved you properly.
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© lumitoiile. please do not copy, steal, translate, or edit my work.
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rosielovesspence · 8 months ago
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I have a request. This is my first time but k love your stories. Okay what if reader is 23 and she is the secret Blossom daughter anyways she is also dating FP and she gets super jealous of Alice (who I’m sorry don’t like) anyways what if she gets down and sees maybe FP would do better without her but he changes her mind? With some smut?!! Hehehe ahh I’m so excited
I am so sorry this took so long 😭 I so forgot about it, I'm so sorry hun!!! (Also dw I totally hated Alice too) (Also I totally forgot about the Blossom's secret child so idk how they treated them, I ain't watched the show in a bit so just pretend I added that to the story) also it became MOSTLY SMUT tbh
F!reader x FP Jones
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Alice Cooper was highly unlikable. Always being around FP because of her daughter and his son was one thing, the way she constantly nagged everyone else was another reason. But you didn't need many reasons to dislike her, your first reason was well enough. She was always around your man FP. At first it was a mild annoyance, and soon it was every second.
So you decided you felt stupid. You kept your distance from FP, you were absolutely downed, thinking about breaking up with him so he could go date Alice, it made sense after all, you were a bit young. Keeping your distance worked well at first, for the first two days he was too busy to notice, but after a while he was calling all the time, showing up unexpectedly, he was trying to find out what was wrong. "Honey, you gotta talk to me, you can't hide forever." He mumbled while he was standing in front of you at your job. "I'm not hiding, nothing's going on, go spend time with Alice."
Okay, so maybe your sadness and insecurity fronted themselves as anger. You had snapped at him and he looked like a kicked puppy for a second before his eyes glimmered with recognition. "Oh, dear, is that what's wrong?" You just turn to the clock, hoping to check the time until you leave. "Five minutes." FP says quickly, already knowing you well enough. "And as soon as you're clocked out you're coming home with me."
And so with barely any room to argue, that's exactly what happened, once you clocked out he took you home with him. You felt absolutely stupid, sitting on the edge of his bed while he stood in front of you, looking down at you. "Look, i-" you couldn't even finish, as he quickly sank to his knees right in front of you. "No." He said quickly pressing a kiss to your right leg. "No?" You asked and he nodded, kissing further up your leg, gently spreading your legs before sucking a hickey into your inner thigh.
"Yes, I said no." He turned his attention to your other leg, kissing, licking, and nipping hickeys into your pretty skin. "You don't even know what I was about to say." Your sentence comes out breathy, stutter filled as you try your best to not become absolutely soaked at the sight before you. He just looks up at you for a moment before speaking, "I know exactly what you were gonna say," his tone is harsh, strict, and absolutely sexy, "it was gonna be about Alice, and I don't wanna hear it."
His tone alone has you ready to give up your endeavors, he stands up in front of you however and you decide to keep pushing. "FP-" you're quickly cut off again, his rough lips against yours, hands roughly grabbing at your hips. "No more talking." He mumbles against your lips. You again decided to push your luck, leaning back to protest but the second you even tried to speak he gently pushed you down onto the bed. "No more talking." He repeats, tone much more strict than before, if it's even possible it made you wetter too. "Now, do I gotta fuck this little idea out of your head or are you a smart girl who can get rid of it yourself?" That was a comment no one else could possibly get away with, but FP was different, his condescending tone was something laced with sweetness somehow.
"Need your help." You mumbled, and he smiled, hands gently rubbing your thigh. "Good girl." Was his reply, leaning down to kiss you as his hand slowly travelled up your leg. It went past your inner thigh and slowly his fingers pressed against your panties, the wet fabric making him smile as he pushed them aside, fingers teasing your clit. "Good girl, so ready for me." He praised, slowly sinking two fingers into you, watching your nose scrunch in pleasure as you let out small whines. He continued to plunge his fingers in and out of you, watching you moan beneath him. "Good girl, look at your pretty face, the only face I wanna see."
He sped up his fingers, making you let out a high pitched squeal of pleasure. "There it is, oh, that's my favorite sound. Something no one else could achieve." You couldn't even reply, on the brink of crying at his praise, he was slowly making the insecurity fall away. Who else could ever imagine he'd be in love with another woman while he's saying such things about you? And soon you feel that coil snap, and you hear more praise. "Oh, just dirtying my fingers, aren't ya? Mhm, doing so good." He coos, praise making your head spin as his fingers come up and he sucks your juices off of them like the sweetest nectar.
"Think you can handle anymore?" Always the gentleman, making sure you're ready for him completely. Making sure to give you time, you nod and he smiles softly. Taking off your panties completely he flips your skirt up, looking down at the prettiness that is you, leaning down to kiss you once more before leaning back again, undoing his belt.
That had been hours ago, he was still plunging into you, moaning at your tight walls around him. "Good girl, my only girl, only girl I want." You whined at such words, face buried in a pillow while he held your hips up to fuck you from behind. "Taking me so good, the only girl that could take me this good" he praised. "Only girl that could make me want you this much, only girl so irresistible." His praises were mixed with your whined of pleasure, his small grunts of pleasure. He finished with one thrust, filling you up, smiling down at your shaking form.
"Good girl." He praised sweetly, kissing your shoulder, pulling out and laying you in a more comfortable position. "My girl, my only girl." He praised, peppering soft kisses across your face. "Ready to give up your silly idea?" You nodded, cuddling against him and laying your face against his chest. "Yeah, it was really stupid anyway." He smiled broadly, "ain't that the truth." He kissed you once more before you fell asleep. Happy and content in the arms of a man who you were now certain, was yours and only yours.
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bluesidez · 6 months ago
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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!! ✨✨✨✨
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["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. 
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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?”
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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.”
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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. 
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“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. 
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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. 
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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.”
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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.”
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“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.
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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.”
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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. 
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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. 
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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!
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thelastairsimblr · 10 months ago
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Family Pack #4
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I’m happy to share some sims with you all today! In this post, you’ll find 12 households (40 sims total), each with their own stories and biographies. All of these sims have additional Everyday outfits, skills, bonus traits, Likes and Dislikes, sexual orientations, pronouns, family dynamics, and Lifestyles. You can find them all on the gallery under my Origin ID: TheLastAirSimmer or in the tray files linked under the cut! As always, feel free to tag me if you end up using them.
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Abreu
A respected food critic, Maria’s opinion is highly valued by all as the towns’ baked good connoisseur. Her husband Joaquin, a renowned pianist, is no exception; he worships the ground she walks on. Together, they project their creative outlooks onto their sons. Santiago, the eldest and a romantic, has the full support of his parents and wants to become a professional wedding photographer. Even though young Rémy feels he didn’t inherit his parents’ imagination, he still wants to make them proud.
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Naval
Aparna owned her own restaurant while raising her two girls alone. Hema was able to help out when she was old enough, allowing Aparna to find success and receive critical acclaim by publishing her own cookbook. Today, Hema is focusing on her engineering studies while trying to find love; she’s very smart and sincere, but a bit naive. Ridhi is chasing a riskier path; she wants to be a famous musician. And while Aparna hopes that this is just a phase, she supports her youngest daughter anyway.
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Monaghan
As young parents, Stefan and Marianne sacrificed a lot. Stefan became a cop to support his family, but still gets caught up trying to relive his youth from time to time. Marianne longs for the day that she can quit her job at the local diner and become a singer. Soren feels pressure to please his parents, but really just want to play videogames all day while Tatum and Aria constantly bicker, not at all concerned with their parents’ feelings or the wellbeing of Hunter, who just wants attention.
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Larson
Quite the jazz singer in his day, Clive is desperate to find ways to stay relevant in the ever-changing music scene. Fiona, longing for the authentic soul who serenaded her years ago, knows she can inspire him again; she’s stood by him through a lot. But until then, you can find the melancholy art critic drinking to yesteryear at the bar. Jade dropped out of college to pursue a career in social media (much to Fiona’s discontent) while Candice is following the artistic path her parents paved.
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Agawa
Ever the class clown, Yuto knew that he had a knack for entertaining people. This was only confirmed after he went viral on Social Bunny for the first time! When he told his parents that he wanted to pursue a life in the public eye, they saw it as further evidence that he couldn’t take anything seriously. He makes a decent living streaming video games and his eccentric personality is pure internet gold. Though to be fair, he should probably be a bit cautious with what he says and does online.
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Hollifield
As a teen, Whitney’s future looked bright. But she forfeited a lot of opportunities to pursue a whirlwind romance with a boy who had a dangerous edge. They were happy for a time, but it didn’t last and the only thing she kept from that relationship was her daughter Emma. She now works a lowly job in fast food while taking classes at Britechester, hoping to find a career in social media. Her days are busier as a working single mom, but Emma keeps herself entertained by befriending her neighbors.
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Catton
Following the loss of her son to avoidable circumstances, Dottie found herself in the care of his two children. Filled with regret for not doing more for her son, the college professor watches the kids like a hawk! She’s keen on using her connections to better their lives. Temperamental Owen does well to make her proud with his grades, but he has an artsy side that he only shares with those closest to him. His little sister Bonnie would rather spend time making friends than studying though.
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Qian
After founding a groundbreaking app, Shirong found a place among the company of the rich and powerful. His charming wife Meifing, quite the schmoozer at elite parties, is constantly looking for funding for her next big venture (while also being the go-to-girl for all the neighborhood gossip). Nuo chose to move home after grad school to save money, but is ready to leave and start her own law firm. Her younger brother Haoyu adds to her restlessness by barraging her with his antics.
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Sullivan
Atticus’ dad Clifford, a retired veteran, supported his sons’ musical dreams fully, having raised him alone after his wife died. While roaming the world, Atticus met Elisa; a fashion guru with a fiery disposition. The pair had three children and Clifford moved in to help with the newborn. Like her dad, Lydia also wants to be an artist (whether if it’s for her love for acting or a desire to be in the spotlight remains to be seen) while Malicia, afraid of being unseen, finds relief in her friends.
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Kingsley-Ramirez
Jaime and Paxton met/moved in together before they could actually get to know each other, both having been new to the city at the time with zero connections. They found themselves compatible not only as roommates, but eventually boyfriends as well! Jaime always puts others before himself; it shows in the passion he has for social justice causes he advocates for. Meanwhile, Pax works a parttime job at a small coffee shop, but is intent on putting himself through school to become a veterinarian.
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Tanaka-Murdock
Nigel and Shannon met at Foxbury and developed feelings for each other during study sessions. Though Nigel was the only one to graduate, he admires Shannon for making the decision that was right for her. He enjoys being the breadwinner while Shannon follows her artistic instincts, though he wishes he had his wife’s free spirit. Shannon is quite hard on herself and works tirelessly until she makes something she’s proud of while their son Kason, while a quick learner, really just wants to play.
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Miyake
Even if he’s never been the most social person, Kenzo is a loyal and fierce friend to those lucky enough to make it into his circle. A patron of the sciences, he cares deeply about precision and perfection. However, when it comes to raising his son Akira, he wants the boy to follow his own path, even if it’s not exactly the one he would choose for himself. Akira seems to be doing just that; far more sociable than his father, he never fails to leave a lasting impression on anyone he meets.
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kckt88 · 3 months ago
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A Heartbeat Between Us VI
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Summary:
Things between Y.N and Aemond get tense as her due date approaches.
Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Fluff, Tension, Petty Disagreements, Frustration, Kissing, Allusion to Sex, Labour, Child Birth.
AEMOND x Y.N
Word Count: 4750
A.N - Took Inspiration from Friends (The one where Rachel is late).
A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)
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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.
Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood
As Y.N’s due date approached, the final weeks of her pregnancy were a flurry of last-minute preparations.
She and Aemond made multiple trips to baby stores, ticking off the remaining items on their list: tiny baby clothes, boxes of nappies, and, of course, the pram.
Aemond, for all his intelligence and competence in other areas, found himself stumped by the bloody contraption.
One evening, they stood in the living room as he tried to fold the pram down. Y.N. sat on the sofa, watching him with growing amusement.
"How do you manage this with just a few clicks?" Aemond grumbled, pressing buttons, pulling levers, but the pram remained stubbornly upright.
Y.N. laughed so hard she clutched her belly.
"It’s not that hard. Watch." She stood up and, with a few quick movements, had the pram folded and set aside.
Aemond stared at the pram, then at her, and back at the pram. "You’re mocking me," he muttered, but a small smile played at the corners of his mouth.
Seeing her joy, even at his expense, was worth the mild humiliation.
They also hosted Alicent for dinner one evening and she had practically melted at the sight of the nursery.
The soft, cream and blue décor, the dragon mobile, and the carefully arranged baby furniture brought a wide smile to her face.
“Oh, Aemond,” Alicent said, her eyes bright with pride, “This is perfect. The baby will be so loved here.”
Meanwhile, Aemond had reluctantly resumed his game nights with Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena.
While he loved spending time with his siblings, Aegon’s constant teasing about Y.N. still irritated him to no end.
He was convinced that his brother harboured a playful, if not slightly serious, attraction to her.
The knowing looks Aegon would shoot him during the evenings, paired with the offhanded comments about how lucky Aemond was, drove him mad.
Yet, for Y.N.’s sake, he kept his cool—mostly.
Except for that one incident where he may or may not have accidentally on purpose shoved Aegon's head into the table when Y.N excused herself and went to the bathroom.
At home, Y.N. had taken time off from her job and settled into a comfortable routine as her pregnancy neared its end.
However, as she edged closer to 40 weeks, she grew increasingly frustrated.
"I feel like a balloon about to pop," she grumbled one evening, sprawled on the sofa while Aemond massaged her swollen feet.
Aemond, who was trying to remain calm on the outside but was secretly on pins and needles every day at work, nodded sympathetically.
"It’ll happen when the baby is ready," he said, though inside he was just as eager as she was.
Every time his phone buzzed during meetings, he found himself hoping it was her saying it was time, only to be met with disappointment.
He had taken to keeping his phone on the loudest setting, checking it obsessively, and texting her constantly to make sure she was alright.
Each day that passed without that long-awaited call made him more anxious.
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The tension in the penthouse had been unbearable over the last few days. Y.N.’s growing discomfort and frustration with being overdue had turned every small annoyance into a full-blown argument.
Aemond, while trying to be as patient as possible, found himself at a loss. Everything he did seemed to irritate her.
If he tried to comfort her, she snapped. If he gave her space, she complained he was being distant. It was driving him insane, but he knew it wasn’t really her fault.
Their sex life had also dwindled into sparse encounters, because Y.N was getting too uncomfortable and Aemond was worried about hurting the baby, which Y.N took completely the wrong way and became convinced he was disgusted by her and she bawled her eyes out until he took her to bed and devoured her cunt like a starving man.
One night, things came to a head. After yet another disagreement, Y.N. stormed off to the spare room and slammed the door shut, refusing to speak to him for two days.
Aemond, for his part, left her alone, but the silence between them weighed heavily, filling the apartment with a tension that was almost suffocating.
He kept telling himself it was just the stress and hormones, but it didn’t make it any easier.
And neither did Aegon's closeness to Y.N, it would grate on Aemond consistantly, that he would bear the brunt of her frustration but Aegon would get the smiles and the joy when he would sneak her chilli cheese bites from Burger King or Hot Wings from KFC.
Even Daeron was granted her smiles but him nooooo he was only granted the version of her that resembled a man eating beast from those damn movies she liked so much.
Sometimes she would glare at him and Aemond was convinced that she was about to eat him alive.
The tension only grew worse when they attended her final midwife appointment. They sat in the examination room, the air thick with unspoken frustrations.
As they waited for the midwife, Marie, to arrive, Aemond began rhythmically tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair.
Y.N. shot him a glare. “Tell me, Aemond, have you always been this irritating?” she snapped.
Aemond frowned, glancing over at her. "I'm not trying to irritate you."
"Well, I guess you just have a natural talent for it," she retorted, her voice sharp and biting.
Aemond sighed, leaning back in the chair. "You know, the midwife will be here soon. Maybe we shouldn’t speak until then."
Y.N. pulled a face, her irritation flaring even more. "Oh, okay then," she said mockingly.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, the room filled with palpable tension.
But Y.N., too restless to let it go, spoke up again.
"Seriously, Aemond, breathe louder. That’s great," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
Aemond clenched his jaw, shooting her a look. "You know, we should probably ask the midwife if she even knows how to deliver a baby that’s half human and half pure evil."
Before Y.N. could respond, the door opened, and Marie entered the room, wearing her usual kind smile.
"Good morning, Marie! How are you?" Y.N. greeted her with a smile that was shockingly pleasant considering the argument she’d just been having.
Aemond shot her a sideways glance, his frustration bubbling over. "Oh, so you’re nice to her," he muttered darkly.
Y.N. rounded on him, her eyes flashing with irritation. "She has the drugs," she hissed through gritted teeth.
Marie, ever professional, pretended not to notice the exchange as she began her checkup.
"Alright, Y.N., let’s have a quick look," she said gently. Y.N. lay back on the examination table, opening her legs as Marie prepared for the exam.
"Eight days late now, huh? You must be getting pretty uncomfortable," Marie commented sympathetically.
Y.N. let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, just a bit," she said, her tone laced with sarcasm.
Aemond scoffed beside her, but said nothing more.
Marie began the examination, then smiled up at them. "Well, you’re 80% effaced, so things are definitely progressing. But it could still take a little while longer," she explained. "If you’re feeling anxious, there are a few ways to help things along."
"Do them" Aemond blurted out, leaning forward.
The stress of the last few days, combined with his helplessness in this situation, was starting to show.
Marie gave him an understanding smile. "Actually, they’re things you can do at home. Some natural remedies that have been shown to be effective in helping labour along."
Y.N. nodded eagerly. "We’re ready to try anything," she said.
Marie began to list off the options. "Well, there’s an herbal tea you can try, eating spicy food, and taking long walks—"
"Great," Y.N. interrupted. "I’ll do those."
Marie smiled but hesitated for a moment before continuing. "However, there’s one remedy that’s proven to be most effective in encouraging labour-and that’s sex."
Y.N. looked at Aemond with a glimmer of hope in her eyes, but Aemond’s face immediately fell into a look of disbelief.
"You’ve got to be kidding me," he muttered, rubbing his temple.
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Aemond and Y.N sat in the penthouse, the dinner table littered with empty plates from what felt like the hundredth spicy meal they'd shared in hopes of triggering labour.
Y.N poked at her remaining enchilada, sighing in frustration.
"Aemond, we've tried all the spicy food. It's not working," she said, exasperated.
Aemond, ever determined, pushed a small plate toward her.
"Okay, how about one of these peppers? It’s supposed to be really hot." He sounded so sure of himself, as he picked on up and took a bite.
Gasping in surprise when the spice burnt his mouth.
Y.N looked at him, rolled her eyes, but took the pepper anyway, popping it into her mouth.
She chewed it with no visible reaction, much to Aemond’s disbelief.
His eye widened as he watched her, while he took a sip of water to cool his burning tongue.
"I feel nothing," she said, almost too casually, as Aemond continued to sip from his glass. Y.N then looked at him with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Speaking of hot, watching you struggle with that pepper really makes me want to have sex with you."
Aemond nearly choked on his water, setting the glass down with a thud.
"Stop it," he muttered, wiping his mouth.
"Oh, come on," Y.N teased. "Why are we wasting time with all this other stuff? We know what's going to work. It's midwife recommended."
"We have to have some boundaries," Aemond said sternly, his resolve trying to hold firm.
Y.N scoffed. "You didn’t care about boundaries when you were putting the baby in there." She crossed her arms and raised a brow at him.
Aemond shot her a look. "As I recall, you were also an active participant."
Y.N waved her hand dismissively. "That’s not the point, and you know it."
Aemond sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I’m not going to make love to you just so you’ll go into labour."
Y.N laughed loudly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Make love? What are you, a girl?"
"Always a great way to get into a man’s pants," Aemond muttered sarcastically, rolling his eye.
"No-come on wuss, make loooove to me" said Y.N smirking.
"Seriously-" exclaimed Aemond.
Y.N leaned forward, her voice dripping with humour. "Come on, just think of it as providing a service. Just think of me as a ketchup bottle—sometimes you’ve gotta bang on the end of it to get something out."
Aemond shot her a deadpan look, his voice flat. "I love it when you talk dirty to me."
"Aemy-" Y.N whined, pouting a little as she leaned her elbows on the table. "I’m miserable here." She looked at him with wide eyes, batting her lashes playfully, and the use of her nickname for him weakened his resolve.
Aemond clenched his jaw. "You—what—never mind."
"What, Aemy? Are you not going to talk?" she teased, mockingly. "How on earth will you ever annoy me? Oh, wait a minute, I know—" She exaggerated her breathing, mimicking the way Aemond breathed loudly, then added with a smirk, "You’d think that damn pepper would’ve cleared your sinuses, but nooo-"
Before she could say anything more, Aemond lunged toward her, pulling her into a deep, heated kiss that took her by surprise.
Y.N blinked up at him, breathless. "What are you doing?"
He took her hand firmly, standing up and pulling her toward the bedroom, his face set with determination. "I’m getting that baby out of you."
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Aemond was jolted awake by the sound of a pained cry and the sharp clatter of glass smashing. His heart pounded in his chest as he shot up in bed, immediately noticing that Y.N. wasn’t beside him.
Panic surged through him as he leapt out of bed, rushing toward the source of the noise.
Entering the kitchen, he found Y.N. hunched over, clutching the counter, her face twisted in pain. A shattered glass lay scattered across the floor.
"Y.N.?" he called out, his voice tight with concern.
She turned her head toward him, her face pale and strained. "I think it's time," she gasped before letting out another cry, her body wracked with pain.
Without hesitation, Aemond carefully made his way over, avoiding the broken glass, and gently took her hand. She clung to him, shaking as he helped move her away from the mess.
Y.N. suddenly gasped, looking down as a trickle of water began to run down her legs. Her wide eyes met his, fear and excitement swirling within them.
"It's definitely time," Aemond confirmed, trying to remain calm despite the rapid thudding of his heart.
"I need to get changed first," she whispered through laboured breaths.
Aemond helped her to the bedroom, supporting her as they slowly made their way across the penthouse.
He carefully dressed her in comfortable clothes, his fingers trembling as he moved. Then he quickly threw on jeans and a shirt, grabbing the suitcase Y.N. had packed weeks ago.
Just as they were about to leave, another contraction hit, and Y.N. cried out in pain, her hand clutching Aemond’s forearm tightly.
His heart ached at the sight of her discomfort, but he stayed steady, whispering reassurances.
"You're doing great. Just breathe," he murmured, kissing her forehead.
He grabbed his car keys, and together, they made their way out of the penthouse.
The drive to the hospital was agonizing for Aemond, though he tried his best to keep calm.
Every pained cry or sharp gasp from Y.N. made his hands tighten on the wheel, his heart clenching painfully.
He hated seeing her in so much discomfort, knowing there was little he could do but get her to the hospital as quickly as possible.
Finally, they arrived. Aemond parked the car and immediately helped Y.N. inside, gripping her hand as she leaned on him for support.
He helped her check in at the front desk, and she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, her voice trembling.
"Please, don’t leave me," she whispered, her fear evident.
Aemond's heart clenched, and he pulled her closer, brushing a kiss to her forehead. "I won’t ever leave you. I promise."
"I-I'm sorry for being such a bitch to you"
"It's ok-it's all forgotten" replied Aemond.
As she was being checked over by the nurses, Aemond quickly sent off a text to his mother, letting her know that Y.N. was in labour.
He then shot off a quick message to Helaena, knowing she’d take care of informing Aegon and Daeron.
The moment he heard Y.N. calling for him, his phone was forgotten. He rushed back into the room, his heart pounding with urgency.
"I'm here," he said softly, taking her hand in his as he knelt beside her. "I’m not going anywhere."
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Hours had passed, and the labour had intensified. Y.N was in agony as each contraction ripped through her body, her face contorted in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Aemond remained at her side the entire time, unable to bear seeing her like this. His heart ached with every pained cry she made.
He had lashed out at the midwives more than once, demanding they do something—anything—to help her.
But all they could do was reassure him that everything was progressing as it should.
Despite his own helpless frustration, Aemond never let go of Y.N's hand, even as she squeezed it with such force he was sure his bones would crack under the pressure.
But he would endure it without a second thought. Pressing kisses to her sweat-soaked forehead, he whispered constant encouragement, telling her to breathe, reminding her she was doing great.
And then, it was time to push.
Y.N cried out, her strength nearly spent. "I don’t know if I can keep doing this," she gasped, her voice trembling with exhaustion.
Aemond immediately leaned in, his forehead pressed to hers, his voice low but firm. "Yes, you can. You’re the strongest, smartest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. I can’t live without you." His words were filled with so much love and admiration that despite her pain, Y.N found the strength to push again.
The midwife, Marie, encouraged her as the baby’s head crowned. "Just one more, Y.N. You’re so close!"
With a final scream, Y.N pushed, and suddenly, the sound of a baby’s strong, healthy cries filled the room.
Aemond’s voice trembled as he whispered, "He’s here. Oh, gods, he’s here."
Y.N, exhausted, collapsed back against the pillows, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment.
But Aemond’s joyful cry brought her back. She opened her eyes and struggled to sit up, her chest heaving as she took in the sight of their newborn son.
Aemond, eyes filled with unshed tears, helped her sit up, his hands trembling.
As Marie placed the squalling, wriggling newborn onto Y.N's chest, happy tears streamed down her cheeks.
"Oh, he’s so beautiful," she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion as she gazed down at their son.
Aemond, who rarely allowed his emotions to show so openly, sobbed quietly as he stared at the tiny life they had created.
His eye was glued to the baby’s small, delicate features—his tiny hands, his soft, silver hair, and those piercing blue eyes.
"He looks just like you," Y.N said softly, running her fingers through the baby’s soft hair. She smiled up at Aemond, who was rendered speechless by the overwhelming love he felt.
His child. Their son.
Marie gently asked, "Does he have a name?"
Y.N nodded, her voice filled with pride and love. "Jack Aemond Targaryen."
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As the midwife, Marie, finished wrapping up baby Jack in a soft blanket, she turned to Aemond and asked, "Would you like to hold your son?"
Aemond froze, panic flashing in his eye. "I-I've never held a baby before."
Marie smiled reassuringly. "Don’t worry, I’ll show you how." With practiced hands, she gently placed Jack into Aemond’s arms, guiding him on how to support his tiny head.
Slowly, Aemond’s tension melted as he adjusted, the weight of his son both heavy with responsibility and light as a feather.
Before he knew it, Aemond was grinning, a quiet, proud smile tugging at his lips as he looked down at his son. Jack squirmed slightly but remained peaceful in his arms, so small and perfect.
Aemond's chest tightened with an overwhelming rush of emotion. The world around him seemed to blur, everything else vanishing as he stared at the life he had helped create.
As the midwives began tending to Y.N and the afterbirth, Aemond remained mesmerized by his son. The reality of fatherhood hit him hard in this quiet moment.
When Y.N had first told him she was pregnant, he had offered his support immediately, without hesitation. But deep down, he’d been terrified. His own father had been distant, cold—an example of everything a father shouldn’t be.
Aemond had no idea how to be a good father, how to give his son the love and care he deserved.
But now, holding Jack in his arms, a surge of love, unlike anything he had ever felt, filled him. He vowed silently, with everything in him, that his son would never feel the same isolation and neglect that he had experienced.
Jack would always know he was loved, that Aemond was there for him in every way. He would give his son the attention and affection that he himself had longed for.
Once Y.N had been helped and everything was sorted, Marie mentioned she could take a shower to freshen up.
Aemond carefully placed Jack in his cot and immediately went to help Y.N. She was a bit unsteady on her feet, the exhaustion of labour evident, so Aemond stayed close, supporting her as they made their way to the bathroom.
He washed her hair gently, his hands tender as he helped her clean up, mindful of her every movement.
She had already started bleeding, so he helped her with the pad and assisted in getting her dressed.
When they returned, he had pulled a few strings and arranged for Y.N. to have a private room.
Once she was comfortable and laid in bed, Aemond couldn’t resist stroking her cheek. He leaned down and kissed her, soft and full of love.
Y.N's fingers instinctively tangled in his hair, and she whispered, "You keep kissing me."
Aemond pulled back slightly, worry creeping in. Was he pushing too much? Overwhelming her with affection when she might need space?
"Do you-want me to stop?" he asked, his voice careful, trying to hide his uncertainty.
Y.N’s fingers brushed over her lips, and she quickly replied, "No."
A wide smile broke across Aemond's face, his relief and happiness palpable. "I'm happy, Y.N. So happy."
She touched his face, her eyes soft and filled with emotion. "So am I."
This was it—the moment he had been waiting for. Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest as he took a deep breath.
Now or never. He leaned closer, his heart swelling with emotion. "I-I want to tell you that I lov—"
Before the words could leave his lips, the door burst open. Aegon strutted in, followed closely by Alicent, Daeron, and Helaena.
Aemond bit back a groan, his moment lost as his family swarmed into the room.
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Alicent’s face lit up with joy as she carefully took Jack into her arms for the first time. Her eyes softened as she gazed down at her first grandchild, her smile tender and full of love.
"Oh, he's beautiful," she whispered. She gently rocked him, her heart swelling as she savoured the moment. “What’s his name?”
Aemond, standing proudly beside Y.N’s bed, smiled and said, “Jack.”
Alicent raised her brows slightly, surprised. “Jack? It’s not very Targaryen,” she remarked, though her tone was more curious than critical.
Aemond nodded. “It’s in honour of Y.N’s grandfather.”
At that, Alicent’s face softened even more. She nodded approvingly, clearly touched by the gesture.
"That's lovely," she said, staring down at her grandson with pride and affection.
Of course, Aegon couldn’t resist making his presence known. “So, Y.N.,” he asked with a mischievous grin, “how much did it hurt?”
Y.N. narrowed her eyes at him, unimpressed. “How about I kick you in the balls, and then you’ll have an idea?”
Aegon grimaced, backing off slightly as Daeron burst into laughter. “She’s got you there,” Daeron teased, clapping Aegon on the back.
Meanwhile, Helaena stood nearby, completely mesmerized by her tiny nephew. She leaned in, peering at him with wide, curious eyes. “He’s so perfect,” she murmured, utterly enamoured.
Suddenly, Jack began to cry, his small face scrunching up as the sound filled the room.
Alicent chuckled softly. “Sounds like someone is hungry,” she said as she carefully handed him back to Y.N.
Y.N. exposed her breast and gently guided Jack to latch on, and he began to nurse immediately, his cries fading.
A moment of quiet awe fell over the room as they watched the newborn find comfort in his mother’s arms.
Daeron shook his head in disbelief, glancing over at Aemond. “I still can’t believe you’re a dad,” he said, smiling.
Aemond, beaming with pride, hugged his younger brother. “Neither can I,” he admitted, his voice full of wonder.
Aegon, true to form, was less subtle. His attention was quickly drawn to Y.N. breastfeeding. “Whoa, look at him go. He’s definitely your kid, Aemond.”
Without missing a beat, Aemond slapped Aegon on the back of the head. “Don’t look at her breast, you pervert.”
Aegon shrugged, rubbing his head. “It was an accident.”
Aemond, his patience wearing thin, glared at him. “Get the fuck out,” he demanded.
Leaning over, Aegon pressed a soft kiss to Y.N.’s forehead. “I’ll come back soon.”
Y.N., still nursing Jack, smiled up at him and said, “Can you bring me a chocolate bar and some Lucozade when you do?”
 “Anything for you, Y.N.,” said Aegon with a cheeky grin as he sauntered out of the room, completely ignoring Aemond’s death glare.
As Aegon left, Daeron leaned in and whispered to Aemond, “He’s doing it on purpose. Ignore him, and he’ll give up.”
Aemond huffed. “He’ll give up when my fist is in his face.”
Y.N. suddenly yawned, exhausted from the day’s events. Noticing, Aemond turned to the others. “Alright, that’s enough excitement for one day. It’s time for Y.N. to rest.”
Alicent leaned over and kissed Y.N. gently on the cheek. “You did so well, my dear. Rest now,” she said softly.
Helaena smiled warmly. “I’ll make some meals for you both, so you won’t have to worry about cooking once you’re home.”
Aemond nodded in gratitude as Daeron gave him a firm clap on the back.
“Take care of her and the little one,” Daeron said, waving goodbye to Y.N. as the family made their way out.
After Jack finished nursing, Aemond carefully lifted him to rub his back, gently patting until the baby let out a small burp.
Smiling, Aemond placed him in the little cot beside Y.N. and tucked him in under the soft blanket Helaena had made.
Y.N., exhausted but happy, looked at Aemond. “Will you stay until I fall asleep?”
Aemond nodded immediately. “Of course.”
He sat beside her, taking her hand in his, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over him.
He glanced down at their sleeping son, so small and perfect, and then over to Y.N., who had already begun to drift off, her breathing steady and calm.
Aemond smiled to himself, squeezing her hand gently, thinking how lucky he was to have both of them in his life.
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Aemond hurried back to the penthouse, his mind still swirling with the overwhelming realization that he was now a father.
He moved almost on autopilot as he showered and changed into fresh clothes, but the feeling of awe and disbelief remained.
He had a son. His son. It felt surreal.
As he was about to leave for the hospital, he decided to stop by a florist and picked up a bouquet of sunflowers—Y.N.’s favourite.
He wanted to make her smile, to show her how much she meant to him, especially after everything she'd just gone through.
Returning to the hospital, Aemond's good mood evaporated the moment he walked into the room and saw Aegon sitting beside the bed, holding Jack. His brows furrowed as he asked, “Where is Y.N.?”
Aegon, lounging comfortably, glanced up with a grin. “She’s just nipped for a shower. She asked me to watch Jack. Is that okay with you?” he added with a slightly cheeky tone, knowing it would irk Aemond.
Aemond narrowed his eye but sighed. “I suppose so.”
Just then, the bathroom door opened, and Y.N. appeared, looking refreshed in clean pyjamas, her hair wrapped in a towel.
A bright smile crossed her face when she saw Aemond standing there. “Oh, you’re back!” she said warmly, walking over to him.
Aemond wasted no time in wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in for a soft kiss.
“I missed you,” he murmured against her lips before handing her the sunflowers.
Y.N.’s face lit up as she took the flowers. “They’re beautiful. I love them. Thank you,” she said, kissing him again.
Aemond, still basking in her smile, then turned his attention to Jack. He took the baby from Aegon, holding his son close to his chest, instantly feeling that surge of love again as he stared at the tiny face nestled in his arms.
Meanwhile, Aegon reached for a small carrier bag sitting next to him. “Oh, by the way, I got you something,” he said, handing it to Y.N.
She peeked inside and immediately let out a squeal of excitement. “A chocolate bar and Lucozade!”
She hugged Aegon in appreciation before eagerly unwrapping the chocolate and taking a big bite. “You have no idea how much I needed this,” she sighed contentedly.
Aemond watched with a small smile but raised an eyebrow when Y.N. turned to him with more news. “Oh, while you were gone, the midwives said I could go home.”
His smile faded slightly with concern. “Already? Isn’t it a little too soon?”
Y.N. shook her head. “I’d much rather be at home. We can start getting Jack into a routine, and I’ll be more comfortable there.”
Aemond considered it for a moment before nodding. It did make sense. He wanted them home, too—where he could make sure both Y.N. and Jack had everything they needed. “Alright, if you’re sure.”
Aegon piped up then, smirking. “I’ll give you guys a hand.”
Aemond shot him a look. “I’m more than capable of handling it.”
Aegon held up his hands in mock surrender. “I know, but if you’re carrying Jack, you can’t expect Y.N. to carry her suitcase after just having a baby.”
Aemond clenched his jaw, annoyed but unable to argue. Aegon was right.
Before he could reply, the midwife entered the room with a smile and a folder of paperwork. “I’ve got your discharge papers here,” she said, glancing at Y.N. and then Jack.
Aemond sighed, knowing that Aegon’s presence would continue to irritate him, but he focused on the positive—his family was going home, and that was what mattered most.
TBC
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bluemantics · 5 months ago
Text
If Keith and Lance were going to fall together at any moment, it would’ve been when Keith was the black paladin.
Keith had successfully kept his walls up until then; battles left him mostly unfazed, team bonding barely nicked his armor, and even Hunk’s cooking wasn’t able to pry him open. 
Then, Shiro vanished, and everything changed. Keith suddenly was tasked with leading the team intended to save the universe. 
All his previous failings and outbursts piled up in his mind at once, nausea rolling through his body constantly. How was he supposed to do this? He was a dropout with anger and authority issues, a wild warrior without aim. Keith wasn’t meant to be anything more than a tamed beast. Even worse, if he wasgoing to step up eventually, to become something greater, he was supposed to do it with Shiro. Instead, a gaping hole had been left behind at the helm. Keith was too young. Too inexperienced. And worst of all, he was entirely alone. 
For the first time in a long time, he was vulnerable, and his aching edges were exposed to anyone brave enough to look. 
The team noticed when he started to crack, exposing his pain and his fear. 
Hunk tried to help, in his own unique way. He noticed the pale hue of the black paladin’s skin and resolved to feed him, maybe help him talk over food. However, that hardly worked, since Keith stopped eating regularly with the team. 
Even Pidge tried to relate through their unique bond. She teased him about the old stories they used to muse over together, but anecdotes about their brothers were still raw for Keith, and he lashed out. That caused Pidge to retreat quickly, her concealed hurt only worsening Keith’s guilt.  
Allura spoke to him in soothing tones that only riled him up more. It was the worst with her, even though she tried her best. Somehow, her gentle tone only reminded him of the wild thing he was. When he would respond in anger, she wasn’t afraid to rise to meet him, and instances where the whole team witnessed them clash only embarrassed him. 
But then there was Lance. That was always how it had gone since their journey started. Lance, appearing to help carry Keith’s brother. Lance, badgering him into a fight. Lance, constantly standing just to his right, prepared to offer unwanted commentary. And now he was the red paladin. 
For the first few days after the lion switch, Lance merely observed how Keith interacted with everyone silently. It made him uncomfortable. He was restless under Lance’s piercing gaze, his eyes that tracked his every choice, his normally discerning tongue that for once chose to still. 
The moment that caused Keith to snap occurred during training. He’d been staying up late every night, working extra with the bots to get better with the new black bayard. Logically, it was just as perfectly balanced as his old sword. Keith just wasn’t able to shake the feeling that the weight of it wasn’t suited to his hand.
So, he trained with it. Again and again. 
Which meant that team training during the daytime… well, it suffered. He was exhausted. Coran, watching over them, admonished Keith for it, but he could barely hear the royal advisor over the sound of his blood rushing past his ears and the clanging of his teammates moving their bayards and the bright lights shining into his pupils and the bruises settling painfully under his ribs and the pressure of his new black armor against his sternum and, worst of all, Lance’s unrelenting stare. 
He snapped back into himself, realizing the team was awaiting his reaction. Their eyes looked round and worried. Keith narrowed in on one person who was standing just at his elbow. 
“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” he hissed.
There was a pause after his words. Lance’s expression remained careful, his hand coming up to rest on Keith’s shoulder, forcing a breath out of his lungs. The lights seemed to dim. 
“Let’s take a break,” Lance suggested to everyone. Marvelously, they nodded, Hunk exchanging murmurs with Allura as they both put down their weapons and began to walk toward the door. Pidge scampered up the stairs to Coran. Keith looked at Lance in bewilderment after noticing they were alone.
Lance just grinned, and it released something in Keith that had been knotted up.
“So, Samurai, I think we need to talk.” 
Lance quietly spoke to him about the team’s unease. That they all wanted to help him, but he’d regressed back to a place that was painful to see. Lance spoke of a small desert shack, a place that could be a shelter, but could also be confining in its limitations. A place to hide from the watchful stars. A place of anger, regret, and desperation.
Grief. 
Lance’s words carved out an image of a loner fulfilling his own self-destructive prophecy. It made Keith bristle. Then, however, he reminded him of other images, scenes from the recent past he’d rejected in his mourning. 
Helping Hunk perfect a recipe late at night, even if he didn’t know much about cooking besides canned beans and rice. 
Sorting Pidge’s small pieces of machinery as she ranted about a planet they’d visited. 
Allura laughing when he made a dry comment about a foreign diplomat, and then immediately failing to cover it up when said official turned around, making Keith smile as well. 
Lifting Lance off a bloody battlefield, the harsh sounds raging in the background as he carried him into Red and saved his life.
“You’re not alone.” Lance’s hands stretched out, beseeching. 
“Why did you wait so long to talk to me?” Keith breathed, as if he knew, deep down, that this talk was going to come the entire time. “Why were you so quiet?”
And Lance’s face fell. Keith regretted asking near instantly. 
“Well, you’re not the only one trying to fill in for a strong presence. I had to get used to some things, too, y’know? Convince myself that I can be right for this job.” He points between himself and the black paladin. 
It’s ridiculous. Keith wants to open his mouth, to assure Lance that he’s not just excelling, that he’s perf—
“You need to start showing up to team dinners. Stop working yourself to death at night— that was fine when you were number two, but now you gotta lead us in training,” Lance started to list off as he put a finger up for each point. “Talk to Pidge about Shiro, since she misses him too, not just you. Reassure Allura that you’re happy to lead alongside her. Just… chill the F out, dude.” Keith blinks, owlish in the face of a literal itemized list of things to fix. 
So, he tries to chill the F out. 
It isn’t easy. He still feels inadequate, out of place in every room he steps into, especially when his friends all look to him for answers. Keith often trembles with the weight of the universe. Thank god for Lance, always standing just to his right. Slowly, they open the door of that desert shack together, and he learns how to share his burden. He learns a lot of things. 
Like how Lance is deceptively smart when it comes to strategizing. Or that Lance’s empathy is a weapon, able to prevent a battle with a few well-placed words. He especially enjoys learning that Lance has curly hair, he thinks Keith is funny when no one else does, and he has a fondness for young kids due to his family. 
Lance is his right-hand man and co-leader in every sense of both terms. Their call-and-response has never been better. Oftentimes, before thinking about what Shiro might do, Keith begins to consider what Lance might do. 
And isn’t that frightening? 
They fell together after the lion switch in ways no one could have predicted. Keith feels a wild thing settle in his chest at the thought, his eyes turned toward the stars that watch him in return. 
He stays standing among the sand. He ignores the urge to retreat to shelter. Keith embraces the sky and its promise of warm, fresh rainfall. 
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