#they have little jets under their “arms”

[sebastianstangirl01]

✧˖° Bring The Lion Out | Pogues & Rafe

pairing - the pogues x cameron!reader, rafe cameron x sister!reader

warnings - violence, language, attempted assault

summary - a fun day at the beach quickly took a turn when the the baby of the group gets cornered by a couple of kooks who don’t have good intentions. luckily she has her friends and siblings who will do anything to protect her.

authors note - i am going to be using the name audrey again for this fic, obviously this fic is not at all related to my last one about rafe. using audrey is just easier for me instead of y/n, mainly bc it is my name lol and i can just type it mindlessly. but obviously feel free to use whatever name you want and imagine the character anyway you want! her nickname is going to be baby, kinda like baby in dirty dancing, so that’s what most everyone is going to call her! i hope you all enjoy!!

requested - yes!

not proofread!!

✧˖°

summer in the obx was nothing less than magical. the weather was hot during the day, perfect for getting a nice tan, and cooler when the sun went down making thin blankets or sweatshirts your best friend.

audrey “baby” cameron has always loved summer. in the past she would spend her time surfing with her sister sarah or going on jet ski rides with her brother rafe. then sunset boat rides on the druthers with her family always ended the night.

but this year was different. ward was dead and rose took wheezie and disappeared off the face of the earth, not answering any of the many phone calls both sarah and audrey made. luckily she still had sarah and rafe, who miraculously made up and are closer than ever.

audrey has still had a hard time though, being pretty much shielded from all the drama that occurred over the past couple of years, she was blindsided by everything. for the first couple of weeks she had never felt more alone.

realizing that they had to step up for their little sister, rafe and sarah did everything they could to help her grieve the family they once had. the pogues had taken audrey under their wing as well, all of them always having a soft spot for the now 16 year old who had only been 13 when this all started.

sarah was still living with john b, but rafe had bought his own house on figure 8 after selling their family home, none of them wanted to live there anymore with the false memories of the fake family they had. audrey had moved in with him and rafe did his best to make sure it was perfect for her.

the biggest surprise to audrey was that rafe was actually pretty friendly with the pogues now, to the point that they all hang out together pretty frequently. which audrey is thankful for, especially because this meant he was spending less and less time with topper and kelce who she hates.

today was one of those days, the waves were supposed to be perfect and jj had challenged audrey to a surfing competition. so rafe threw the boards into the back of his truck and the brother and sister duo were on their way.

when they arrived at the beach it wasn’t very crowded, much to audrey’s delight, there were a few teenagers further down the beach but that was about it. sarah and the pogues pulled up right beside them and everyone got out, setting up their spot for the day.

“hope you’re ready, baby. those waves are calling my name.” jj teased the younger girl as he waxed his board

“no, i hope you’re ready. don’t want you to get embarrassed about getting beat by a 16 year old again.” audrey fired back making kie laugh and pat her shoulder

“you got it, baby.” kie ruffled her hair, ignoring the look of betrayal on her boyfriends face

“hey! you’re supposed to root for me!” jj pouted and kie just shrugged

“baby’s obviously the favorite.” john b said as he walked up behind audrey and wrapped his arm around her shoulder

“right, just how many years of friendship? right down the drain.” jj mumbled to himself

audrey smiled at his dramatics and walked over to sarah who was sitting in a lounge chair underneath the umbrella. the 16 year old carefully sat down on her lap and sarah chuckled shaking her head fondly and adjusting into a more comfortable position. sarah looped her arms around audrey’s waist and pulled her back against her chest.

“can i help you?” sarah twirled a strand of her sisters hair

“nope, you’re just comfy and i’m waiting for your husband to finish waxing my board.” audrey closed her eyes at the feeling of sarah playing with her hair like she used to do when they were kids

“almost done, jeez!” john b called and the girls giggled

“how are you feeling?” audrey asked and sarah smiled using her other hand to gently rub her slightly swollen belly

“i don’t have morning sickness anymore, so i feel great.” sarah sighed heavily luckily at 20 weeks the worst of her morning sickness had passed

“i still think the baby should be named after me, audrey jr is perfect. we can call her aj for short.” audrey wiggled her brows

“hey, we still don’t know if it’s a boy or girl.” sarah reminded her and audrey just shook her head

“it’s a girl, i just know it.” audrey smiled

sarah just smiled fondly at her sister and began to quickly braid her long hair so it wouldn’t be in her face while she was surfing. at some point kie and pope had flopped down beside them under the umbrella, pulling out the snacks and drinks they had packed for the day.

cleo was standing with jj and john b, criticizing the way they handled the boards. and rafe had gone back to his truck to grab his own chair and the bag that had their towels and some sunscreen in it.

the weather was perfect today, a soft breeze cut through the humidity and the cloudless sky was a bright blue color. audrey found herself wishing that she could spend every day like this, sitting on a beach with her favorite people in good weather.

“boards ready for ya, baby!” john b walked over to them holding audrey’s board on his hip

“thanks, jb! last one in’s a rotten egg.” audrey jumped up taking her board before running towards the water

she laughed hearing jj curse and chase after her, the cool water made audrey tense for a moment before her body became used to the temperature and she paddled out.

kie, pope, and john b joined shortly after audrey and jj while cleo and sarah built a sandcastle and rafe sunbathed. the waves were perfect, just as they had predicted.

the group caught wave after wave, and eventually kie deemed audrey as the winner of her and jj’s little competition.

“no way!” jj complained flopping back onto his board

“sorry j but baby had ya beat.” kie patted his chest

“don’t be a sore loser bro.” pope chided him and jj scoffed

“i am no such thing!” jj held his chest in offense

“bullshit.” pope coughed making the others laugh

jj just narrowed his eyes before lurching forward and knocking pope off his board into the water. audrey laughed wiping the water that splashed onto her face from her eyes, while kie just shook her head at their childish behavior.

jj and pope popped their heads up out of the water and quickly knocked the remaining three off their boards making them join them in the water.

“not cool.” john b splashed jj, who was responsible for knocking him into the water

feeling her stomach grumble in hunger, audrey pulled herself back up onto her board. intending to swim back to shore and eat one of the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cleo brought.

“i’m heading in, i’m starved.” audrey announced and the group gave her a thumbs up

“i’ll come with ya, need to check on sarah.” john b said ignoring the whipping sounds pope and jj made

the duo paddled towards the shore, john b waving at a couple other surfers who recognized him. audrey huffed out of breath as she made it to the beach, struggling to prop her board on her hip.

“need some help?” an unrecognizable voice asked from her left

audrey lowered her board and saw 3 boys she didn’t recognize standing there, but from the looks of their ray-bans and vineyard vines swim trunks she knew they had to be kooks.

“uh, no thanks. i can manage.” audrey gave them a polite smile

“come on, that boards like twice your size. we don’t bite.” the same one said

“unless you want us to.” another one smirked

“really. i’m good.” audrey clenched her jaw becoming uncomfortable

as she went to walk away one of the guys grabbed her board, stopping her.

“hey, we’re trying to be nice here and help you out. the least you could do is not be a bitch about it and let us.” the first guy spoke again

“excuse me?” audrey gaped at him, shocked that anyone would talk to another person like that

“you heard him, so be a good girl and let us help ya out. maybe you can repay us tonight, we love to share.” the third guy said

feeling alarm bells ring in her head, audrey knew she needed to leave. she dropped her board and turned to walk away, but was stopped when a strong hand latched onto her arm and pulled her back into a chest roughly.

“where you going, huh?” the second guy asked

“let go of me!” audrey exclaimed, jamming her knee into his crotch making him curse and drop his hold on her

“fucking bitch!” the first guy scoffed, pulling her hair making audrey yelp

before anything else could happen, yelling was heard and suddenly audrey was ripped away and rafe tackled both remaining guys to the ground.

audrey fell to the sand and looked up to see rafe and john b ontop of two of them punching them in the face. the third guy tried to get up but was punched in the face by cleo sending him back to the ground.

“audrey!” sarah exclaimed dropping to the ground beside her sister and pulling her into her arms

the others made hurried onto the beach when they heard the commotion and pope and jj hurried to help john b and rafe while kie immediately ran to sarah and audrey who were now joined by cleo.

“hey, are you ok?” kie asked touching audrey’s knee

“yeah. i’m fine.” audrey winced and touched her head that was tender from where her hair was pulled

“jackasses.” sarah seethed rubbing her hand up and down audrey’s arm

it took both john b and jj to pull rafe off his guy, who’s nose was all bloody and most likely broken. the other two guys in similar shape.

“you so much as glance in my sisters direction again and i’ll fucking kill you.” rafe threatened and the three guys immediately ran away

the boys turned back to the girls and rafe knelt down in front of audrey, grabbing her hand and giving it a soft squeeze. his jaw clenched when he noticed the hand shaped bruise on her arm.

“are you ok?” rafe asked pinching her chin to get her attention

“yeah. just a little freaked out, but i’m ok.” audrey nodded

“well those sons of bitches won’t bother you anymore, baby. scared them so bad i’d be surprised if they ever show their faces again.” jj chuckled

“better not, or i’ll cut em.” cleo flipped open her knife making audrey smile

“no one messes with baby.” pope pushed cleo’s hand down

“damn straight.” john b nodded squeezing her shoulder

“thanks guys.” audrey smiled, feeling so incredibly lucky to have friends who care as much as hers do

“let’s not let them ruin our beach day, we have hours of daylight left.” kie said moving to stand

“yeah then tonight we can have a bonfire and roast marshmallows.” sarah smiled before looking at her little sister. “how’s that sound, baby?”

“sounds good to me.” audrey grinned

“good, now it’s time for lunch and you need to eat. i’ll get you some tylenol too for your head.” rafe grabbed audrey’s hands and pulled her to her feet before wrapping his arm around her

audrey chuckled at his care, which was a stark contrast to the way he was a couple of years ago. the group headed back over to their spot and continued with their beach day.

they ended the night back at rafe and audrey’s house, utilizing the large patio with a fire pit and comfortable chairs placed all around it. as audrey held her marshmallow over the fire, she looked around and realized just how lucky she is to have these people in her life.

to have people who care and will always be there for you.

[sunandflame]

Shards of Glass, Chapter 9

Summary: Kyojuro Rengoku, History Teacher on the Kimetsu Academy, is constantly having strange dreams about a Slayer who looks exactly like him. He thinks nothing of it until he recognizes a very specific person from these dreams and feels a very unique connection to her.

Pairing: History Teacher Kyojuro x Teacher Fem!Reader

Trope: Reincarnation / Sequel to Flame and Water (can be stand-alone)

Word Count: 3851

Warning: smut

Pinterest Board of Shards of Glass

Crossposted on AO3

Masterlist of Shards of Glass

“Could you take in two strays who were caught up in the rain?”

He looked at her in shock and immediately stepped aside to let her in, which she did. She was the last person he would expect here, but he wasn't expecting anyone at this late hour. He closed the door behind them and studied her, noticing how wet she was from the rain. Her hair stuck to her face and she shivered noticeably. Something black jumped out of her arm and immediately explored the area until the cat ran along Kyojuro's legs and purred at him.

So that was the second stray she was talking about. Kyojuro smiles at the feline and kneels on his haunches to pet the cat who is immediately smitten by him. The moment he looks up at Y/N his face turns serious as he rises up to clasp her arms in both of his hands. It’s obvious that something happened but he does not dare to ask, not now when she was shaken.  “You are freezing.” He rubs her arms to create warm friction. “How about you first take a shower while I make you some hot chocolate to drink?” Y/N nods with teary eyes and he leads her into his little bathroom.

~ ~ ~

The warmth of the water jet was a blessing to her chilled skin. She had surveyed the bathroom and had noticed how sporadically everything was arranged, as if he had just moved in here. She noted the two bottles that were on the floor of the shower and smelled them before using them. Amber and pine trees. An interesting combination, but one she had already smelled on him. She remembered the first time when his scent hit her nose as she stood close to him while they talked. She had to resist the temptation to move closer to him and sniff his neck, knowing how odd that might have looked. The fact that she now had the chance to use his shampoos and smell like him made her blush. Especially when she slipped into his hoodie and sweatpants after showering. She couldn't help but bury her nose in the soft material and sniff the soothing smell of Kyojuro.

She couldn't help but think of how he had looked at her earlier. His eyes wide in surprise. His golden-red waves that were in a messy bun. His white shirt that was so tight around his muscular pectorals, showing off the definition she never noticed before and oh god… Those gray sweatpants that sat so dangerously low on his hips. She felt the heat go to her head again and was about to jump back to take a cold shower, but this wasn't her apartment. She was only a guest. Y/N took a deep breath and looked into the bathroom mirror for a brush and combed her wet hair with it.

Shimizu purred and constantly rubbed against his legs as he prepared the hot chocolate on the stove. As he stirred the dark liquid with the spoon, several thoughts ran through his mind. What happened to her? Why was she outside at this time? Threatening herself with sickness? Why was she crying? Was she hungry? His thoughts were interrupted as he saw a figure from the corner of his eyes.

“She seems to like you a lot.”

Kyojuro turned to her and saw her standing at the door frame. His clothes were definitely too big for her, her eyes still puffy from crying and yet she looked beautiful. To see her in his clothes like this stirred something deep inside him and he felt his cheeks growing warmer. “Yes, it seems like it. I like her too.” He looked down at the feline with a smile and reached down to scratch her under her chin. “Just make yourself comfortable on the couch. I will come in a minute and then we can talk. If you want.”

She nodded and seated herself on his couch. Kyojuro seated himself next to her and handed her the cup. “Here, this should warm you up.”

With a grateful nod she took the cup and sipped on the hot chocolate. He didn't know why, but he watched her closely as she closed her eyes in pleasure, running her tongue over her upper lip. “Delicious…” she sighed out and gave him a smile. “Thank you very much, I really needed that.”

“You are welcome. If you need anything else, let me know.” He smiled back at her.

“Thanks, but I think the hot chocolate should be enough for now.” She took another long sip and remained silent. Kyojuro didn't know what to say either. What was he supposed to say anyway? She was the one who came to him drenched from the rain with troubles weighing on her shoulders.

The silence became more oppressive until Shimizu jumped between the two of them and meowed very loudly. They both looked at her in surprise and then started to laugh. “I’m sorry Shimizu, I should have offered you something too.” He got up and the feline followed him immediately. He put a bowl with water and some cooked rice that he had from the day before and watched how she started to eat. As his gaze turned back to Y/N, he saw her staring at a picture that was on the drawer. He went there and gave her the frame. It was a picture of his family.

She picked it up reverently and looked at it closely. “Senjuro and you took after your father. It’s like he copy-pasted himself.”

Kyojuro’s smile turned nervous as he scratched the back of his neck. “Yes, the Rengoku genes are actually very strong. This hair color goes back to the Sengoku-era.”

“Really?” She looked at him in surprise and chuckled. “I need to confess something. The first time I saw your hair, I thought that you dyed the tips red, but then I met your little brother in one of my classes and realized that it must run in your family. I always wondered if it was your father or mother.” Her gaze went back to the picture and her smile softened. “Your mother is so beautiful.” 

“Yes she is…” But his eyes were not on the picture, but on her. How she held it carefully in her hands, as if she knew how important it was to him. She put it carefully back and sat down on the couch, her smile dying out slowly. 

Her gaze became distant while she tightly grabbed her mug. Kyojuro was visibly concerned, still debating if he should ask her what happened. The silence did not make the situation better as the worst scenarios were going through his head until he decided to finally ask her. 

“Y/N… Why were you running so late outside in the rain? Did something happen…?” He didn’t dare to finish the sentence.

“Everything is fine…” She gave him a smile to reassure him, but this smile didn’t reach her eyes. 

He scrunched his forked eyebrows. “You are a bad liar.”

Now she couldn’t hold it back any longer and started to laugh. While she laughed, he was able to hear her pain and the tears that she was not able to shed anymore. “But probably still better than you.”

Now he couldn't help but smile at the inside joke that had developed between the two of them. “Y/N you know that you can talk to me, right? You are my friend and my confession didn’t change that fact..”

You are my friend.

I love you, Y/N.

Those words still lingered in her mind. "Kenji and I… We were fighting a lot the past week. The fights became bigger and bigger..." She finally spoke.

"He did not-" Kyojuro was assuming the worst.

"No, no," she immediately corrected him. "I... broke up with him..." She was still not looking at him. 

Kyojuro was surprised and he should be sad about hearing this. A break up, especially if someone had been together for such a long time, must be painful. He remembered how heartbroken he always was in his past break ups. A long silence occurred before Kyojuro decided to open his mouth. "I am sorry to hear that."

She put the mug on the table and leaned back to turn her head to him. "Are you really, Kyo?"

His eyes were now fixated on her plump lips that called his nickname so seductively. So inviting... imploring even. But he stopped himself before turning his golden red hues onto her eyes. "No, I am actually not." 

Was it her who came closer or was he moving towards her? He really shouldn’t do it. He really shouldn't take advantage of her in this situation. The air was filled with tension, the longing was in both of their eyes. 

“Kyo…” Her lips were whispering his name, waiting for him to finally make a move. Fuck it, he thought to himself and took her face in both of his hands and kissed her. Their lips clashed together and something inside them was like ‘finally’. As if his soul had been waiting for it over 100 years and was so desperate for her. The kiss turned hungrier and the sensation was so exhilarating that it strictly stirred his cock, which already started forming a tent in his gray sweatpants. 

It didn't make it any better when she grabbed his hair and desperately pulled him closer so that he fell on top of her. His hardened dick pressed against her. Only the thin layers of fabric separated them, but not preventing the delicious friction that made them both moan into the kiss. “Kyojuro…” Her voice is so whiny and desperate for him that it evoked something primal in him. 

Kyojuro felt as if a flame had ignited inside him, a flame that had been smoldering from the moment he first laid eyes on her. Now it was burning bright, consuming any lingering doubts and restraint he had left. He eagerly kissed her back, his tongue exploring her mouth while his hands gripped her waist tightly. His lips didn’t leave hers as his hands wandered down to her waist and hips. “Not here.” He was not sure if he said that more to himself than to her. It did not matter as he quickly stood up and grabbed her waist, to pick her up. Y/N immediately wrapped her legs tightly around him, kissing his lips, jaw, neck and everywhere else she was able to reach. That elicited a groan from him, making him dig his fingers into her thighs, where he was holding on desperately. It was hard to focus and if he didn’t have an ounce of self control he would have simply fucked her against the wall. However, this was their first time together so he opted to carry her into his bedroom.

Once in his room he draped her slowly onto his bed, his mouth wandering from her lips to her neck where he sucked and kissed the sensitive skin, eliciting all those sweet sighs and moans from her. He moved away from her, his body hovering over hers, to take a little to look at her. Again the sight of her in his clothes just made his heart clench in a way he never expected. His hands roamed over her body and pulled the hoodie over her head. He stared longingly at her bare breasts. Her nipples were already hard and eagerly pointing at him as they begged him to suck on them. He couldn’t take his eyes from her, before he snapped out of it as he realized that she was blushing under him. “Gods… You are so beautiful…” Murmuring words that were so familiar, creating a flashback in the back of his mind where he had said something like that before, but that didn't matter. What was important was that they were both here in the now.

There was something so intimate about being laid bare in front of him, seeing the desire and admiration in his eyes as his hands roamed over her body. Her blush deepened under his words, and she gently pulled his head down towards her chest. “Kyojuro… Please touch me…” She wanted his touch, nearly burned for the sensation his warmth gave her. He didn't need to be told twice and lowered his head down to take her nipple into his mouth, circling the hard peak with his hot tongue. The sudden shock of his touch sent waves of pleasure through her body and made her lower lip quiver. Her gasp only spurred him on further. His hand moved down to her waist, sliding under the fabric of her sweatpants to caress the sensitive skin there. He could feel how wet she was through the fabric, and the thought of it made him harder, if that was even possible.

He could feel the growing need to be inside her, to feel her from the inside, and the realization that they were on the same page seemed to fill his mind. He watched the response from her body and how she writhed under his touch. Those gasps and moans that he so craved; he wanted her to make more of those sounds. More, more, more… His hand on her waist began to slowly pull her sweatpants down, revealing more of her skin. His eyes roamed over her body, taking in every inch of her naked form. It was like being mesmerized by the most beautiful work of art in the world, and yet, it was the fact that this beauty was his to experience, to explore, that made it so much more intoxicating. 

He began to slowly undress himself as he watched her beneath him on his bed. His gaze was like a physical touch, as if he was already trailing his fingers over the skin he could see. He wanted to make her feel just as wanted and worshiped, as he continued to slowly strip, revealing his toned body. She couldn’t take his eyes off him. His hand moved down and gently caressed her inner thigh, the touch gentle yet possessive.

"Gods, you are so beautiful."

He could hear how she gasped as his mouth moved down her body, and the sound of her voice only made his body react more to her. He lifted his head a bit, looking at her flushed face, and watched her lips part as she took a deep breath while he spread her thighs apart. He could already see her glistening folds, so beautifully exposed to him. The sight sent a wave of desire through his body, and he had to take a moment to gather his own self-control as he leaned down closer, his breath ghosting across her sensitive skin.

“So beautiful," he echoed, his voice thick with need, "I want to taste you…"

Without giving her time to respond, he lowered his mouth to her core, his tongue swiping across her sensitive flesh in one slow, languid motion. The taste of her was so sweet, so intoxicating, that it took all his self-control not to just devour her right then and there.

As he continued to lavish attention on her, he felt her hands in his hair, gripping and tugging at the strands. The pain and pleasure of it only added to his own arousal, and he groaned against her skin.

"You taste so sweet…" he whispered, "I need more."

He continued to explore every inch of her, his lips and tongue relishing the sweetness and warmth of her body. As he listened to her moans increase in volume, he intensified his efforts, his tongue moving with more purpose and pressure, trying to draw out as many of those delicious sounds from her as possible. And with each lick and stroke of his tongue, he felt her legs shaking and trembling. He could tell how close she was to the edge, and he kept going, determined to bring her over that precipice. Her gasps and moans fuelled him as he worked his mouth between her thighs. He wanted to make her scream his name, to hear her come undone beneath his touch.

As her moans grew louder and more desperate, Kyojuro knew she was nearing her climax. He continued his assault, not letting up, determined to push her over the edge. He felt her thighs tremble and constrict around his head as she neared her release.

"Let go, my water lily" he murmured against her skin, not knowing where the pet name came, "Let me hear you come…"

And as if it was a command she cried out his name, pulling at his soft golden locks. “Kyojuro!” His heart nearly stopped as her voice, screaming his name, filled his ears. He could feel her body tense and shudder as she came, the sensation of her fingers in his hair sending a jolt of satisfaction straight to his core. He continued to gently lick and suck at her, drawing the orgasm out as long as possible until she finally collapsed back against the bed, completely spent.

He slowly pulled away, his lips and chin glistening with her juices. He stared down at her, admiring the sight before him, the view of her trembling body and flushed skin. The beautiful sight of her coming undone because of his efforts, all because of him. It filled him with a sense of pride… and an overwhelming need for more. "So exquisite…" he murmured, his eyes skimming every inch of her body. The sight of her, so undone by his touch, was enough to make him throb with desire.

He moved up her body, his lips moving along her stomach and over her chest until they found her mouth. He kissed her gently, letting her taste herself on his lips and tongue. His body was still throbbing with yearning, and he was fighting hard not to just push himself into her right then and there. But it was not him, but her who took the initiative. The feeling of her legs wrapping around him instantly spread an unsung fire through his body. He leaned down and his lips found the skin of her neck, kissing and sucking on the sensitive spot behind her ear. His hands roamed over her figure, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its track. He groaned into her skin as his hips involuntarily ground against hers.

"I… need you, now," he whispered huskily.

He could feel the slickness of her against his stomach, and it only increased his need to be inside her. He shifted slightly, his hands gripping her hips tightly, and lifted himself up to position himself between her thighs. His eyes locked with hers as he slowly pushed his cock into her, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he held himself back. The sensation of her tight, warm walls surrounding him was almost overwhelming. He buried his face in her neck groaning how perfect she felt. As he slowly started to move his hips, he felt as if he was losing his mind. The feeling of being inside her, having her completely at his mercy was almost too much to handle. He leaned down, his lips finding her neck as he nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin. He was lost in a hazy fog of ecstasy, the sound of her moans and gasps in his ear driving him to go deeper, faster.

His own control slowly slipped away as the pleasure consumed him. His hands roamed over her body, touching and exploring every inch to memorize the feel of her flesh underneath his fingers. He lifted her legs around his waist, getting a better angle and the new position drove him even deeper into her. And he continued to thrust into her, the pace and force increasing with each movement. He was completely lost in the moment, his mind completely overtaken by the pleasure of feeling her completely. His lips found her neck once more and he nipped and sucked at her pulse, leaving behind a trail of love bites in their wake.

Mine… his mind whispered fiercely, possessiveness creeping into him.

As he continued to dominate her with his body, he could feel her tremble and quiver under him. The sounds of her moans and gasps, the feeling of her body's response to his touch, it only fueled him to go harder, deeper. He could feel himself nearing his limit, the mounting pleasure becoming nearly unbearable. His breaths were labored as he tried to hold back his release, continuing to move his hips with each deep stroke. But the way she felt, her skin against his, the sound of her gasps and moans in his ear… it was too much.

"I'm… close…" he panted, his grip tightening on her hips as he tried to hold on just a little longer.

He could feel her body tightening around him, clenching and gripping him as if she was desperate to keep him inside. It was an incredibly delicious sensation that only added to his mounting pleasure. With each powerful thrust, the coiled heat within him grew stronger and more intense.

"I'm gonna…" he gasped, "Oh Gods… I'm gonna come…"

“M-Me too..!”, she cried between her moans as he felt her tight grip on him. Her voice sounded so desperate, needy and it was all it took for him to lose any remaining control he had.

He leaned down and his lips found hers, his tongue delving between hers, tasting her moan as he pushed himself deeper into her one final time. With a low, guttural groan he let go and succumbed to the pleasure, his body shuddering as he came hard, releasing himself inside her. He held himself there as the release hit him, his body shuddering and tensing as waves of ecstasy washed over. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breaths ragged and unsteady as he slowly came down from his high.

He collapsed on top of her, his body trembling with exhaustion and satisfaction. They lay there for a few moments, both of them trying to catch their breath and come back down to earth. He nuzzled his face into her neck, pressing soft kisses to her flesh as he tried to form words. But it was not possible. They simply stared at each other, her hand roaming over his face and pushing a blonde strand behind his ear. 

A profound, unspoken connection flowed between them. Their eyes locked in a gaze that spoke volumes more than words ever could. They marveled at the raw intimacy they had just shared, a sense of wonder filling the space between their breaths. Still panting from their lovemaking, their hearts seemed to beat in unison. Their shared silence was suddenly broken by soft laughter, a tender, joyous release that bubbled up from the depths of their souls. The giggles were not just amusement, but a shared acknowledgment of the beauty they had found in each other. 

A/N: Hello, my sweethearts! Who would have thought this story would ever get an update? (Not me!) I know it’s been a while, and I’m deeply sorry about that. Everyone who has been following me knows that I’ve been going through some real-life stuff, but things are getting better. I’ve been constantly thinking about this story and how much I love the plot I’ve built here, and I don’t want to disappoint anyone. But forcing myself was a big no-no, which is why it took so long. Again, I’m really sorry, and I hope I can make it up with this smutty smut. Since there’s no regular schedule for this story, please reply if you want to be tagged or not. Much love, your (Mommy) Sunny <3

Taglist: @flametrashira @mamayan @love-me-satoru @camilo-uwu @genshinsimpforlif @curlyblaze @oggy4god

[metal-mum]

Frogger is a Frogfish don't @ me

Not my best but she's honest work. Prolly will redo it digitally or something, yippee!

[peachsukii]

— I’ll be home for Christmas

it's the annual friend circle christmas party, hosted at kirishima and mina's apartment. the only downside? your boyfriend, bakugo, is stationed overseas for hero work, so this year, you'll be celebrating through a screen. at least, that's what you're expecting.

✮ content. pro hero!bakugo + pro hero!reader. christmas magic and fluff. :) a special present for my elf @lady-lauren as part of the @pixelcafe-network secret santa exchange. ♡ ♡ ♡

✮ word count: 1.1k.

Christmas Eve, the night of a traditional Christmas dinner with all of your closest friends. A pot luck buffet, secret Santa exchange, and plenty of laughs through the night as you all reminisce over your lives. There’s just one thing that’s missing this year — Bakugo. Well, missing in person.

It was an opportunity of a lifetime, one he couldn’t turn down, no matter how much he argued against it. An esteemed agency in California was accepting applications for international transfers as part of the new “Heroes Around the World” program. It wasn’t that he wasn’t thankful, or even uninterested, but Bakugo’s biggest fear was being alone. Being away from you, especially in another country. After many nights spent hyping him up to take the chance, he accepted the offer. Before you two knew it, he was jetting off to the USA for three months.

And, unfortunately, three months turned to six.

Bakugo’s not coming home until March. The US commission was so impressed by his skillset (because why wouldn’t they be?) and wanted him to train an entire new wave of sidekicks by crafting a program to mimic Japan’s Hero protocols. You couldn’t bring yourself to be selfish and have him come home, no matter how much you missed him. So, you two made it work — 17 hour time difference be damned. Early morning voice notes, late night video calls, quick texts and even little homemade letters from time to time. Bakugo became fond of your hand written letters, especially when the paper would faintly smell of your perfume or have traces of lipstick kiss marks.

When you show up to Kirishima and Mina’s home, they welcome you with open arms, chirping how they’re happy you came and how much they’ve missed you.

Everyone starts arriving over the next hour, greeting you with warmth and love like always. It’s not long until their apartment is jam packed with all of your closest friends, shuffling around the kitchen with delicious food and drinks. Everyone shoves a present under the tree in the living room for later, truly adding a layer of joy to the atmosphere. Your heart aches softly as the night progresses, missing Bakugo’s hand on your thigh under the table or around your shoulders as you chat and laugh with everyone. The plan is to have Bakugo video call Kirishima’s phone during the secret Santa exchange, that way he’d still be included when everyone swapped presents. It’ll be 2AM for him, but he insisted it’s fine.

There’s a little pang in your chest when you look under the luminescent tree in the living room and see the one with his handwriting for Jiro. ‘To: Ears — Love: Kats’ with a skull drawn next to it. It’s endearing to see his love for your friends extend across the sea so effortlessly. Midoriya takes a seat next to you on the couch before everyone else meanders into the living room for the secret Santa exchange. His eyes gleam when they meet yours, a smile tugging on his lips and accentuating the freckles on his cheeks. “How are you doing?”

You nod and tilt your head with a soft smile of your own. “It’s nice to get out and be with friends. Being home for the holidays without Katsuki was starting to get to me.”

Midoriya’s eyes soften. “I know it’s hard. Only a few more months!” Before you get a chance to think too deeply about it, Kirishima claps his hands to get everyone to quiet down.

“Alright guys! Time to exchange presents.” He pulls out his phone and sets it on the dock by the TV, the little screen displaying a pending ‘Call’ screen. It’s not long before a familiar face appears, the room erupting in a hearty cheer.

“Bakugo!”

“Shut up, don’t all yap at once!” Bakugo grumbles with a grin on his handsome face. It seems his eyes find you in the room as you shoot him a little wave, his grin settling into a longing smile. “Kirishima, get things rollin’ before my ass falls asleep.”

The room chuckles as gifts are starting to be exchanged, anything from cute pairs of socks to video games to awkward stocking stuffers. No other presents are lining the tree skirt after a half hour of celebration, but you’re left empty handed. It’s awkward, to say the least.

“Are we missing one?” Kirishima questions with a frown. “There’s no way we left you out.”

Bakugo’s face sours on the phone screen, immediately upset that you’re excluded from the tradition. “What the hell? Someone better fess up. Don’t screw with my girl’s Christmas.” Suddenly, the video freezes and hangs up, leaving everyone silent as they turn towards you. How the hell could this happen?

“Why don’t you check the entryway?” Mina advises. “Maybe it was left there by mistake.”

You stand from the couch with defeat, sulking toward the door to double check. Who had you for secret Santa? Did they not know what to get for you, or were you truly forgotten? After a quick glance in the doorway, you come up short. Guess you won’t be getting a gift this year after all.

When you return to the living room, everyone seems to be staring at you with an apologetic look on their faces. Your head is hung low, aimlessly wandering back to the couch as you plop back down on to the plush fabric.

“No luck,” you whisper. “It’s okay, though. It’s not a big deal.”

The room is silent until someone speaks up.

“Look again.”

Wait. You know that voice.

It has you whipping your head up, looking around desperately to be sure you’re not hearing things. Like magic, Bakugo appears from behind the Christmas tree in the living room, his cheeky smirk illuminated by the bright string lights.

“Merry Christmas,” Midoriya whispers next to you, his eyes glossing over with emotion. “Sorry for tricking you!”

Before you know it, you’re launching off the couch and skipping over to Bakugo, throwing your arms around him excitedly. He picks you up, swinging around in soft circles, squeezing you tight enough to take your breath away. Once he sets you down, you pull back to look at him.

“Katsuki, how—”

Bakugo cuts you off with a kiss, cradling your face in his hands. After a moment, he releases you, all the love in your body flourishing at his touch.

“Commission gave me five days off. M’all yours,” he whispers, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. “Izuku pulled some strings to get those corporate assholes to approve it.”

You turn toward Izuku, mouthing a ‘thank you’ before burrowing your face into Bakugo’s chest. God, you’ve missed the way he smells, his warmth…everything about him.

“Okay you creeps, stop starin’ already,” Bakugo jests to the group. Everyone shouts with glee, the party continuing in full swing with the whole family together — at last.

This is a Christmas you’ll never forget.

Merry Christmas, Lauren!! I hope you enjoyed it. With much love from your secret Santa, Rei <3

@slayfics @maddietries @liluvtojineteyam

@Yoyolovesdaiki @catsoupki @purplescorpi0

@jays-adventure3 @simp-plague @napbatata

@www-marianette-org @obsessedpersona @kirishimaeijiromyman

@strwbrrykthv @hayatoseyepatch @awkwardchick87

@unriding @sylushi @darhinadadragon

[chithereader]

jealousy, jealousy / aaron hotchner

here’s my masterlist! pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader / shy!reader word count: 2.4k genre & cw: fluff, a little jealousy and pining angst if u squint, mentions of made-up case, different use of cm character a/n: thank u so much for all the support i've been getting on my fics!! hope you love this one as much as i do, i really enjoyed writing this one the most!

Today was a bad day. That much was clear. From the moment you woke up to the minute you arrived at the BAU– you’re convinced that the universe has simply gone the extra mile to make your life a little harder. 

You slept through your alarm and a few phone calls from Garcia, making your morning stressful and complete chaos. You didn’t have time to grab a cup of coffee or a snack, and apparently you also didn’t have time to remove the colorful pimple patches that adorned your face. 

Your blouse is buttoned asymmetrically, your hair resembling a bird's nest, and you left your ID at home, making your arrival more delayed as you had to employ Garcia’s help in presenting a copy of your ID to let you through. 

That too was not without stress given that your phone was on the verge of dying as you were in the call, but thankfully you could finally breathe in the elevator. Or so you thought. 

There were two things that immediately caught you off guard as you walked into the bullpen: one, almost all the desks were deserted and two, Reid and Morgan were watching you- as if waiting for your reaction, which led you to look around in anticipation. Is there a surprise? A prank? Did I miss a patch? I’m…wearing pants, right? 

Not wanting to prolong your search, you look at the two for any indication or clue. Tilting your head to the side as if to ask what? But to your surprise, they both nod their heads in one direction. Oh.

Strauss was in Hotch’s office, along with Rossi and a woman you don’t recognize. Hotch looked a bit tense, Strauss firm, Rossi is as relaxed as ever, and the woman… is looking directly at Hotch. Just Hotch. Huh. 

You were stood just shy of your desk when you shook thoughts out of your head, slowly approaching your desk to settle your things. Dozens of scenarios were running through your head, trying to make sense of new additions to an otherwise normal day. 

But the way she was studying him made your chest tight like someone was stepping on it.. and you couldn’t figure out why. 

You approach the two rascals only to lean on Derek’s desk as you whisper under your breath, “What’s happening there?” 

Morgan shrugs but his focused face remains, “I don’t know, kid. I tried Garcia but she doesn’t have a clue either.” Eyes studying the people in the room, noting anything that could tell them something. 

Mulling over more possibilities, you hum in response. Turning to Reid, you ask him- hoping that his eidetic memory can tell you anything about the woman even if they’d only met in passing. 

“Do you know anything, Spence?” But Reid only pouts at you, a sign that he’s thought about it hard but is coming up empty. 

Shaking his head, he soberly replies, “No..I don’t think so. I– I’ve never seen her before. Sorry.” 

Before any more thoughts could be voiced between the three of you, the door to Hotch’s office opens and all four of them file out- the woman walking a little too close to Hotch. 

-

You’re approaching your usual seat on the jet beside Morgan and across from Hotch when suddenly Agent Seaver overtakes you and sits on your seat. Caught by surprise, your eyes instinctively go to Hotch who’s already looking at you. 

He nods to himself, moving from the aisle seat to the one by the window. But it appears Agent Seaver misunderstood his gesture and moved beside him, “Oh! Thank you, sir.” Even going as far as touching his arm and leaning closely. 

Now, you’ve never been a violent person. Rage has just never overcome your senses like that but today.. of all days– you couldn’t help the image of spilling your hot chocolate all over her cream blouse. 

You don’t even notice that you’re frowning as you sit beside Morgan, somehow still unaware of how much their closeness really upsets you. You honestly thought you’ve maintained an expressionless face until Morgan looks up from his file and leans close to whisper in your ear, “You’ll need claws not paws, baby girl.” Winking at you as you separate. 

You steal a glance at Hotch only to see him watching you and Morgan with furrowed brows. He almost looks normal if it weren’t for the clenching of his jaw that’s his tell of irritation. Moving your gaze to Seaver, in case you missed something that’s causing his new mood, you find her reading the case file. 

As you return your gaze on Hotch, you watch as Seaver touches his arm again and engages him in conversation about the case. It’s through the whole jet ride that you had to stomach the constant Agent Hotchner, Agent Hotchner! paired with a giggle or a slight touch. UGH!

If it weren’t for Strauss personally recommending Agent Seaver as a consultant for this case, you would have done– …still absolutely nothing. You had no claim whatsoever over Hotch. Morgan and Rossi may tease the two of you occasionally, forcing that he treats you specially or whatever but his behavior could simply be chalked off as him being a good and attentive boss. 

And yes, okay fine. You may have some moments here and there… but! they could honestly just be built up in your head because of the feelings you have for him. Like when he said he likes it when you stare? Come on, being stared at can be flattering and that’s just a universal truth. 

- 

After a whole day of coming up with theories, visiting crime scenes and M.E.’s, you’re all completely spent. Lounging in the makeshift discussion room, all of you are still working tirelessly on the case given that the unsub’s on a spree and his timeline is alarmingly short. 

Reid’s been silently staring at the board for 20 minutes while Morgan’s pretending to read files of potential suspects with his legs stretched out and feet on the table, “This is impossible. We just don’t have enough.” He exclaims as he tosses the file on the table with a thud. 

To the left of Morgan, you’re also silently mulling over files of potential suspects. Not wanting to admit that he’s right, you guys don’t have enough…bodies. You barely have anything on the guy, barely any clues- for a working profile. 

You sigh heavily, peeling your eyes off the paper and looking at the board. “Reid?” The boy genius shakes his head softly, confirming that the known dump sites don’t say much about the unsub’s comfort zones or hunting ground. 

You suddenly wonder where Seaver, Hotch and Rossi are. You and Morgan got back to the precinct at around 11PM, and you realize you haven’t seen any of them, “Where are the others?” 

Morgan, in an effort to lighten the mood, jumps at the chance to tease you, “Hmm. I think what you’re really asking is: Where’s Hotch and is he with Seaver?” He punches your arm lightly, making it obvious he’s only teasing. 

The smug, playful smile on his face makes you fight one of your own, desperately trying to not give yourself away, “Shut up,” hitting him in the head softly with the file in your hand. 

While you two were exchanging playful glares, Reid interjects, “Seaver wanted to turn in early since she’s also the one meeting with the families tomorrow so Hotch brought her to the hotel.” 

You instantly lift your gaze to him and watch as he removes the marker’s cap and scribbles rapidly on the board, quickly adding “And I’m pretty sure Rossi’s getting us coffee from the diner around the block.” 

You want to blame it on your exhaustion– your inability and ineffectiveness at hiding how you truly feel about what Reid just revealed to you, groaning loudly in pain and frustration. You put your head in your hands, muffling the sounds you’re making that are somehow a combination of a laugh and a sob. 

Morgan understands your reaction immediately and laughs out loud. 

“It’s not funny!” There was honestly no point in hiding it. As much as Morgan teased you, you knew he wouldn’t tell anyway, and Reid.. well, he was honestly an even better keeper of secrets than Morgan, Rossi and Garcia. 

He puts a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, “Baby girl, worry not. You know you hold a special place in boss man’s heart.” Then gripping both your wrists to pry your hands off your face. 

Pressing your face even further into your hands, you let out a muffled version of “That’s not true!” that came out more as “Daffs noft thwu!” 

When Morgan successfully pries your hands off your face, you’re surprised to see Reid’s moved from the board to behind Morgan, half leaning half sitting on the table, curiously watching you. 

Morgan turns around to look at the door behind you, making sure the coast is clear before he says, “Kid. Be real with me for a sec… are you blind?” That was not the question you were expecting. 

You must have looked so lost because he continues, “Hotch cares for you. Deeply. And not in the same way he does for us. You’ve gotta have felt that, kid.” Funny, you are starting to feel like a kid– the only thing missing are his hands on your shoulders to complete that huddle pep talk experience. 

“That’s just not–” you try to start. But Reid swiftly raises his hand, signing you to stop–

“Did you know that every morning Hotch makes sure all the pens and mug handles on your desk are pointing to the right– the way you need it to be– in case the night janitors move any out of place?”

“Or that he never really ate lunch in the office before but started bringing sandwiches and other food he could microwave, while timing his lunches with yours presumably so he could strike up a conversation with you during break?” 

“Or do you remember that one time the AC in the bullpen broke and we were all sweating badly, and I said the heat was making me too thirsty then he disappeared into his office and came back with a bottle of water and an orange juice box only to give it to you?” 

Morgan lets out a loud laugh at that one while Reid pouts playfully, “I mean I was genuinely dying then.” 

Not without his own input, Morgan smiles softly at you with a raised brow “Did you know he personally restocks your favorite hot chocolate in the pantry and on the jet? Including the marshmallows.” 

You breathe in deeply, the revelations sounding too good to be true but winding nonetheless. You crack a small joke, trying to play it off “And I thought the bureau was just feeling really generous.” 

The two, who have grown to be such brothers, give you the exact same look of Really? 

As Reid rounds the table to go back and stand by the board, Morgan catches your attention and holds your eye, “Look, there’s so much more, kid. But they all point to the same thing.” He says this as softly as possible, as if to not scare you away. 

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. Shaking your head, “That just can’t be true.” 

With all three of your backs to the door, you don’t notice Rossi nearing. You just suddenly hear his voice from behind, rounding the table and settling the coffee cups in front of all of you, “Coffee, anyone?” 

As if trapped in the null of the previous conversation, you’re still looking at Morgan as you lean back in your chair, slumping further to seek non-existent cover. Reid, who is now back in his own world with the board, is handed a cup by Rossi, who didn’t even turn to look- only stretching out an arm to receive it and mumbling a distracted “Thanks.”  

Rossi, who is simply too smart for his own good, impressively senses something hanging in the air, nonchalantly asking about the tailend of a conversation he was not supposed to hear, “So… what can’t be true?” 

Back to lounging excessively on a chair that is a tad too tiny for him, with legs outstretched and feet on the corner on the table– Morgan spouts, “That she’s Hotch’s girl, and has no reason to be jealous of Seaver– who by the way needs the HR orientation more than Penelope and I.” 

-

Now– all of your backs are to the door except Rossi’s. Not one of you tried to move due to fatigue, let alone look.

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan, and Reid, on the way back to the precinct from the hotel, Hotch had the genius thought of picking up Rossi so the latter wouldn’t have to walk a block with trays of coffee on hand.

Hotch and Rossi arrived together. And as Rossi went around the table to give you your cups of coffee, Hotch stayed behind– leaning on the doorframe with arms crossed, watching you and the team.

Imagine his surprise, hearing what Morgan just said. His heart skipped a beat, his stomach dropped. His entire being froze entirely.. What? Jealous? 

In his mind, he had two choices: Act like he didn’t hear it and save you from embarrassment or use it to his advantage and make his intentions clear..ish. 

-

You gasp loudly at his bluntness– and in front of Rossi! Straightening in your chair and pointing an accusatory finger at Morgan, “You little– I am NOT jealous! and I am NOT Hotch’s–” 

Cut off by someone loudly clearing their throat from behind all of you, you all freeze, including Reid who hasn’t been actively paying attention until now. 

The hair on your neck stands up as you hear the nearing footsteps, already envisioning digging your own grave in your head when finally, Hotch is standing right beside you. 

You’re all still pretty frozen, save from the slow movement which is your eyes slowly lifting its gaze to the man in question until they meet his hazel orbs. He holds your stare as he leans on the desk, arms straining in his shirt– 

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Rossi fighting a smile, and just as you’re about to mentally curse him in your head, you’re broken out of your thoughts by a deep voice, 

“You don’t think you’re my girl?” 

[readwritealldayallnight]

reader who is flexible / does yoga x simon who gets really flustered watching it? 👀

During those first few months of living together as flatmates, having gone from strangers who happened to have a friend in common to sharing a bedroom wall within 24 hours, you both learned a lot about each other

On your end, you learned that his presence in the flat was a rarity, gone for days if not weeks at a time before coming home. Even then, he usually was only back for short periods of time, most of it spent sleeping

You do discover that he’s an early riser however, much to your chagrin when the sound of his routine post workout shower wakes you up before the sun has ever risen

You learn that he’s a decent enough cook, but will always insist on helping in some way if he finds you in the kitchen working on something, no matter how simple or complicated the dish is

Over time you even find out how he prefers his tea in the morning and when you get the chance, try and surprise him with a warm drink waiting for him after his shower

When you know that he prefers to keep the flat a little cooler than you usually have it, you’ll turn the thermostat down a degree just before he comes home, just as he’s gotten into the habit of turning it back up for you on his way out, the gesture going unspoken between the two of you

Simon also learns a lot about you in the time since you’ve moved in

He learns all about your taste in music, a melody never not playing in the background of whichever room you’re occupying, often telling him the name of a song or artist you can tell he likes from the way his foot will tap or fingers will drum against his thigh

He discovers you’re a bit of a night owl, often hearing you in the kitchen baking some dessert or another at midnight, or talking on the phone with a friend. He never minds though. In one case he wakes up to sweet treats in the morning, and the other he gets to overhear your even sweeter voice chirping and giggling. And if one time a smile of his own graces his lips when he hears you telling your friend how you’re loving the new flat, and your flatmate “isn’t so bad on the eyes either”, then who’s complaining?

He finds out what your favourite take out food is, often surprising you with something on his return home, definitely not blushing under the mask if it earns him a hug or peck on the cheek as thanks

But one thing Simon learns about you early on, something that he thinks about not just at home but on base, in briefings, on missions, on helis and jets and trucks, is how part of your daily routine, is doing fucking yoga in the living room.

He’s been in countless situations most civilians could never even dream up, let alone withstand, and Simon under the mask that is Ghost always stays as cool and collected as any seasoned vet would

But seeing you in sweatpants, or leggings, or even worse when you’re wearing those shorts of yours, strolling into the living room with your yoga mat tucked under your arm, his pants instantly tighten every single time, knowing what’s to come (or rather who’s to c-)

Following along to your instructional video playing on the telly, paying him no mind as he sits in the adjoining kitchen as you bend into position after position, simply doing your nightly routine as you have for years now, unknowingly putting your flatmate through a torture he’s never endured before

Every time he’s lucky enough to witness you stretching your limbs, contorting your body into poses he couldn’t fathom doing himself, he finds his dreams that night filled with the very same images of you, though wearing far less clothing, and in his bed instead of a yoga mat, though he would take you anywhere let’s be honest

He always waits for you to finish your routine, be it a quick 15 minute stretch or a nearly hour long session, he remains and watches you until you leave, before he dares to stand with his arousal on full display through his pants, rushing to his room or bathroom to take care of business

He learns that he’s never felt more intense pleasure at his own hand than when he thinks of you, when he has has your face and body freshly imprinted on his mind as he finishes, imagining the heaven that it must be to have the real thing rather than his calloused fist

It’s interesting you see

You really like Simon, and you like when he’s home, like getting to know him and spend more time with him

And if you happen to learn that when you do your yoga routine out where he can see you, that he suddenly spends a lot more time in the flat than on base, coming home more and more often, no matter how short his stay is… well, who’s complaining?

[buckyalpine]

Just a fluffy little thought. A grumpy, moody, broody Bucky, moping and grumbling through the compound with a scowl on his face. He was restless and annoyed the whole jet ride home. He tosses his bags off to the side, throwing off his tactical gear without a care in the world and Sam and Nat are utterly baffled because the mission was a complete success. Bucky's plan worked perfectly, his strategies were what got them in and out, he'd even saved a group of civilians that were unexpected.

Why was he grumpier than usual?

Because something is not right.

Everyone gathers for dinner and he barely takes a bite. He's shifting his food around his a fork before getting up and sitting on the couch instead with his arms across his chest and shoulders tensed. No one breathes a word, letting him storm to himself. Except you. You'd noticed Bucky's less than pleasant attitude but it doesn't scare you and you felt bad seeing him sitting by himself clearly stewing over something.

Maybe you had a crush on the soldier too. Maybe.

"Hey" You give him a soft smile as you take a seat beside him, still giving him space, "You okay?"

He gives you a shrug in response but that was normal with Bucky. You'd check in again and if he still didn't want to talk, you'd leave him alone.

"What's wrong"

Usually his standard answer of telling people to fuck off was easy but not with you. Never with you. Not when you turn him into a pile of mush and fluff. Bucky's grumpy face turns more into a pout as he contemplates telling you what's been making him so mad.

"My tummy hurts" he mumbles and you have to hold every fiber of your body together to keep from melting into a puddle because he could have said he felt unwell. Stomach pain. Stomach ache.Felt sick. Felt off. He could have said absolutely any other variation of what he was feeling but no.

The poor, grumpy, angry soldier was huffy and puffy because of a tummy ache.

"I'm sorry bub" you coo, not even realizing what you'd called him,"What would make you feel better?" You ask but Bucky doesn't actually know the answer. When he usually felt queasy he'd just grit it out until it went away.

"When I was little, my ma would make me some soup" He wasn't sure if it actually cured anything but he remembered it always being the yummiest thing he'd tasted and the one thing that made him feel all better. "But that was for when I had a cold"

"What about for tummy aches" You asked, noting the way the soldiers cheeks turned pink, his fingers fidgeting with each other. Of course he knew what his ma would do for his little achy belly but it's not like you could help...

"Um, sometimes she'd tuck me in bed and then.."

"Then?" You cock your head in curiosity while Bucky's voice dies on his tongue.

"Then she'd rub my tummy till I went to sleep" He rushes out with a small voice while keeping his eyes trained on his hands. His eyes grow wide at the giggle you let out, worried he'd made a complete idiot of himself, what were you to do with that information, it's not like you'd-

"C'mere" You take his hand gently in yours, gauging his reaction before moving him to lay his head on your lap. Bucky's stomach is now a mess of butterflies and whatever was upsetting him, his muscles melting into Jello as soon as you'd touched him. "Is this okay?" Your hand rests closer to his hip than right on his stomach and Bucky is barely able to squeak out a yes along with a quick nod.

You hum, moving your hand to rub soft circles around his tummy, his firm muscles under making you giddy on the inside. You recollect your nerves, focused on soothing motions, your other hand moving to play with Bucky's hair. You card your fingers through his short chestnut locks, smiling at the way he closes his eyes, his breathing starting to slow, muscles releasing their tenison.

"Better?" You whisper, giggling to yourself at the deep purr he made in response, relaxing with your gentle ministrations. He rolls over, smushing his face against your stomach, far too relaxed to care. The soft snores that follow after let you know the remedy certainly worked. As soon as you move your hand away, he blindly reaches out, placing it right back where it belongs and going back to sleep immediately after, tummy ache all gone, flutterly little butterflies replacing them. He's already dreaming of all the ways he could return the favour.

Isn't he an absolute precious baby.

So cute.

Bonus scene:

Of course the team gawk at what they see; the grumpy soldier now happy as a clam on your lap.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Bucky's tummy hurts" You reply with a smile and honestly the answer sends everyone into chaos.

"Awww Buckyyyy"

"So that's why he was so grumpy. Should've known when he kept pouting everytime we had turbulence"

"AWWWW The winter soldier as a widdle tummy ache?" Sam coos, only to silence his cackles when Bucky's eyes shoot open, staring daggers at him. "Don't give me that look when you're curled up on y/n's lap like a cat"

"Does rubbing it help ya feel all better-oh fuck"

Bucky's glare sends everyone scrambling right out, the empty room leaving him all content again.

Yes.

Rubbing his tummy made him feel all better.

[sanguineterrain]

smut 18+ only, fucking jason on the kitchen floor, feral horny afab reader who wants to maul jason, unprotected sex, breeding kink, submissive jaytodd!!! rock on!!!

The first time you go absolutely batshit feral over Jason, he's cleaning the apartment.

He's done nothing to provoke your ferality (he never does), and usually, you keep it to yourself. Thoughts like if I were a vampire I'd suck his blood and I need my boyfriend to hold me down until I orgasm or pass out, whichever comes first, are inside thoughts, and you do a great job at keeping them as such.

So you're not quite sure what compels you to act the way that you do.

First, Jason's in clothes that don't help your insanity. The shirt is Dick's (Jason insists that he did NOT have an emo phase, thank you), so the cropped quality of the My Immortal t-shirt isn't by design. Jason's just big.

Yes, yep, your boyfriend sure is a big boy. That's all you can think about as you watch him over the top of your open book while he attacks the kitchen floor with his Swiffer Jet. He's humming a song you don't recognize.

You love him so much. The thought hits you square in the chest. You love Jason Todd. A lot. A lot a lot a lot.

The next thought that hits you is how soft and squishy your boyfriend is. Jason's sweatpants are baggy, the baggiest he could find, and they still can't hide how humongous his thighs are. His thighs are pure muscle, but when not in the middle of a fight, they are soft. Bitable. Very bitable.

Your gazes moves to the strip of belly that flexes and flutters with every movement. Jason's stomach isn't perfectly flat, a fact that you know sometimes bothers him. You take care to treat it delicately, not wanting him to be self-conscious even though every part of him makes you rabid.

You want to kiss Jason's stomach. Feel it twitch under your hand as you do, uh... other stuff besides kissing. You love watching Jason in action, love watching him wield his powerful body. But you also love him like this: using his body to take care of himself, his space, and you.

Jason's arms. You could write prose poetry on such magnificent creations. More than once you've had the urge to wrap one of Jason's arms around your neck and let him squeeze until you lose consciousness. Another inside thought! Jason would staunchly refuse and probably get you checked for head trauma if you requested such a thing, but you can dream.

Once or twice, Jason's flexed for you, silly and smiley. You've managed to hide just how fucking hot you found it. It's been well over a year and you still want to jump your boyfriend. You try to keep it to a manageable level, not wanting to startle or overwhelm him. You know Jason's complicated relationship with his body. You respect his boundaries.

But still, the thoughts linger...

Your feet carry you to the kitchen before you can think about it. Jason's done with the mop and has moved to wiping the counters. You seize the opportunity to get behind him.

"Hey, baby," Jason says before you reach him. He keeps wiping. And that's another thing: Jason is highly competent. His training makes him hear you before you've reached him. If you were an evil goon, you'd be on the floor before you could inhale. You also find that concerningly hot.

You stick yourself to his back and wrap your arms around his stomach. You grab handfuls of the layer of fat that covers his muscles, brushing your thumbs over where his hair thickens below his bellybutton.

"What's up, hm?" Jason asks, patting your hand.

"You're really hot," you say.

He snorts, glances behind at you. "I'm what now?"

"Hot. Juicy. I wanna maul you."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah," you say peacefully, groping his waist. "Soon as possible."

"I'm free for a mauling in ten minutes. That work for you?"

"I don't know if I can wait that long." You slip your hands up his shirt. "Mind if I feel you up while I wait?"

Jason laughs but it comes out a little airy. "You're a menace."

"I'm crazy about you."

"Mm, I've noticed. Feeling's mutual."

"No, no." You move your head so that your mouth is on his exposed bicep. You feel the hot flesh in your mouth, lave your tongue over it for some time. As soon as it flexes, you bite the hard muscle.

Jason drops his dishcloth. You soothe your teeth marks with your tongue.

"You don't understand," you say, shifting so you're pressing Jason against the counter edge. He lets you keep him there. "I'm crazy about you. I wanna eat you, Jay. Let me eat you."

"Jesus, what's gotten into ya?" he asks, turning his head to look at you.

"Hopefully you," you say, unrepentant.

Jason's eyes widen. You adore how squirmy he gets whenever you're bold about wanting him. Despite how long you've known each other, Jason never fails to get flustered. Perhaps that's half the fun.

"C'mon, Jay, let me fuck you. I wanna fuck you on the kitchen floor," you say, past coyness.

He full-body shudders. "I jus' cleaned."

You grin against his arm, pawing at his hip. "I'll help you mop again, honey pie. Deal?" You're eyeing his stomach next, ready to suck his skin there.

Jason can't deny you for long. You both know that.

"You're persuasive," he says, eyelids fluttering.

You hum. "Didn't take much, though, did it? Is your dick hard already?" You squeeze him through his sweats. Jason whines, bracing himself against the counter. "Never takes long, huh? You're always ready for me in no time, stud. Ready to fill me up, right?"

"Oh m'God," he says, looking at you like you're divine. That look swells your ego every time.

"Is that a yes?" You cup his balls like you're choosing a bull for breeding. Jason buckles under your brazenness. "Yes, you want me to let you fuck my pussy? Yes, you want me to fuck you on the floor?"

"Yeah, yeah, please."

So Jason lets you push him down onto the tiles. You yank his sweats down first, then his underwear. He's already leaking onto his stomach.

"Fuck," you say, grabbing and holding Jason's wrists on either side of his head. "You gonna give me what I want, sweetie? Love of my life, handsomest guy I've ever seen?"

Jason nods vigorously. "Yeah, yes, an-anything y'want. Oh my God, I'm s-so hard. I love you. Y'so nice to me."

You smile gently.

"I'm nice for taking you on the kitchen floor, huh?" you ask, bending your knees and lining up his cock to your cunt. "What if I make you wait until I come first?"

Jason nods again, already breathing hard. "I want to, I wanna wait. You should come first. I want you to come first. I don't have ta come at all."

You raise an eyebrow. That's new. New, but not unwelcome.

"So even when I..." You sink down on his cock, just the tip. Jason whimpers in the back of his throat. "Do that? You don't need to come?"

You feel him flex under your hands but he's good and stays put. He doesn't break your hold even though he could. You grin.

"Oh-oh. Sweet boy. My best guy. Look at you, big and hard. You could take me if you wanted, but you don't want that, do you? You want me to take what I want from you. All that muscle and strength, but what d'you need, Jaybee? Hm? Tell me."

"Need you," he says, voice strained. "Need you to do whatever y'want."

You kiss under his jaw and dig your nails into his wrists. Then you sink further onto Jason's cock. His hips twitch but he doesn't thrust like he usually does.

"Will you kiss me?" he asks when he bottoms out, body strung tight like a bow.

"I did kiss you," you say, smiling into his neck.

"On th'lips," Jason says, fingers shaking. "Please? Please."

You thread your fingers with his to steady them. Then you lean in to kiss his mouth. Jason moans, greedily kissing you back. You begin to move. Jason's shoulders tense.

"You're so perfect," you say against his lips. "You'd be so perfect at knocking me up. Any time I wanted, you'd be hard and ready to come in me, right?"

"Ah-ah," Jason says, voice wrecked. "Y-yeah, yeah. As much as y'want. Do anything y'want. I'd do anything."

"Yeah, I know," you say, grunting as you slide back onto him. "I know, sweetheart. Pretty boy. Y'dunno what you got with this fat cock. Can barely speak when your dick's wet."

You do a particularly hard grind and growl against Jason's sweaty throat. You lick the salt from his Adam's apple, feel it bob against your tongue. Then you bite.

"Oh, oh," he whines, and your gut tightens further at his sounds.

"Don't come," you snarl, pussy like a vice. "I come first."

Jason shakes his head, lips parted. His pulse throbs against your mouth. "No, no, won't. I won't. I'm good. I'll be good. 'M I good?"

You pet his hair, voice softening. "You're good, Jason. So good, baby. So good that I gotta take you right here on the floor. You understand, right? I was aching over there, watching you. I had to fuck you. Had to use your big dick for something."

"Uh-huh," he says, voice wet and sticky with pleasure. "Y'had to. I can do it. I wanna be good for you."

He looks up at you, and you're struck again by your difference in size, and how easy Jason gets when he's inside of you. You feel that familiar tightness, the edge of your impending orgasm.

"Rub my clit," you say, letting go of his right hand, and Jason obeys instantly, locating and deftly rubbing your clit.

"Harder," you tell him, and he rubs harder. Your mouth falls open as the pleasure swells. "Yeah. This is what you're made for. Pleasing me."

One of these days, you'll broach the subject of Jason putting those muscles to good use and fucking you doggy-style, whining in your ear as he shoots load after load into you.

"I'm gonna come," you say, cunt tightening. "Are you gonna come?"

Jason shakes his head desperately. "No. No, no, y'said not to. Not gonna come!"

"A-are you sure?" you ask, grinning as Jason makes uh-uh's in the back of his throat.

"Won't come, I promise, won't come," he says, near tears.

You come, tightening hard around Jason's cock. He nearly howls, the corners of his eyes wet, tendons pulled taut in his neck.

But he doesn't come, true to his word.

Sloppily, you kiss him. Jason kisses you back, but it's frenzied. You know his brain must be soup with the effort it's taking to not come.

"Look at you," you say, gaze hungrily roving over Jason's swollen nipples, his red face, his drawn eyebrows. "You listened so well. Y'wanna touch me? Wanna hold me?"

Jason nods frantically. "Yeah, yeah, please, baby, please, can I?"

"Go ahead, sweetheart. Hold me how you want and make yourself come. Don't be gentle."

Jason hesitates at the last direction. "Don't be gentle? Are y'sure?"

You pinch his nipple lightly. Jason bucks his hips. Your eyes narrow.

"I'm sure. Gimme everything you got, big guy."

You bite your lip as Jason's body comes alive, strength kicking in as he draws your thighs up over his hips, plants his feet, and drives into you. He punches the air out of you with each thrust, sobbing as he does. You hold on to his arms as he moves.

It only takes him a few thrusts before hot cum fills your pussy. Your eyes roll back at the feeling, nails scratching Jason's biceps.

"I want more," you say, grinding shallowly against his cock. Jason cries out, and more cum fills you.

"Was that good?" Jason asks, holding you closer.

You grin. "We're definitely doing that again."

Except, maybe not right after Jason's cleaned. You're not that mean.

[irndad]

oh, but you're good to me -s.r.

a/n: i continue to not know the word count- but here's pining!spencer x sunshine!reader!! very hozier coded <3

The team has gone out for drinks after a stressful week, and this is a moment where Spencer finds that his willpower does not so easily overpower his desire. They’d chosen a kind of kitsch place, the kind where there’s couches where waitresses could bring you your drink under dimmed lights and music with cozy acoustic music played. Emily and Morgan were comparing conquests at their trip to the club the week prior, Penelope chiming in with warm support on either end. On the opposite table, Hotch and Rossi were discussing criminology in serious, even tones. 

And Spencer, well. He was well-occupied. 

His best friend is on the team, and he does not say that lightly. She’s earned her place in his heart, as hopelessly romantic as that makes him sound. But she did. He remembers the day he met her, warm tone seeped in patience and understanding. 

He remembers the sight of her like its engraved crystal, carved into the basis of his mind. Her delicate features distinct in their warm kindness. She’d offered her hand, shook it and giggled a sweet sound when he’d said it’d be safer to kiss. He’d blushed enough that his lack of flirtation in his intent was clear. 

On the jet, that first case, she’d listened to him talk about Russian literature and other obscure topics he couldn’t remember now, because now, all he can recall is the color of her doe eyes meeting him in intention. 

He’s pretty sure he’s in love with her. 

Which, right now, feels a bit like a drug- both painful and exhilarating. She’s a cuddly drunk (only with him, it seems) and he’s got a lanky arm tugged over her shoulder. It’s lovely in a way words vex him, the weight of her against him. 

“You look nice today, Spence,” she muses, looking up at him. His heart is going to stop.

“You do too,” he breathes out. This is nice. She’s touchy, and he likes when she touches him. It’s a pleasure, like sipping expensive wine or decadent chocolate, sweet and a little bit sad, because you know you can’t have it forever. 

She plays with his scarf, and he is hopelessly endeared by the sight of the fabric in between her delicate fingers. 

“This color is nice,” she muses, and god,  he wants to kiss her. This a thought Spencer has often, oftentimes at inopportune times. On the jet, in the office, at her house, in the car- always, really. 

Except now, no one’s looking at them. If loving her was enough to make her love him back, then he could. 

But it isn’t. 

He chokes back the emotion rich in his throat. He brushes her hair out of her face, a tender motion that betrays his intentions with her. 

“You always look lovely,” Spencer says earnestly. I love looking at you, he thinks.

She smiles back earnestly and warmly. 

“I didn’t think you noticed things like that.”

“I always do, when it’s you.”

He doesn’t know why this is what he’s allowed to have. She’s so close to him, pinned up against him and he can feel the curve of her waist against his side. He doesn’t get it, why he’s not her boyfriend but he still gets moments like these, where she’s pinned to him like velcro. He’s addicted to them, really- craves the moments where she falls asleep on his lap on the jet, where they’ll be walking together somewhere and she’ll lace their fingers and tug him along when she’s excited and the destination in sight.

Maybe this is just how she touches her best friends- he tries not to question it, because he doesn’t want to loosest. 

But tonight, under the low-light of the bar, shadows of her lashes thrown across the slope of her cheek- he wants to ask her.

“Are you like this with everyone?” He muses. He immediately regrets it, sees her face harden and feels the shift away from him, and the space leaves a gap of cold air. There’s a swoop f nerves in his stomach.

“I don’t know, I think I just thought- you know, we’re like this. We’re touchy, you and me.”

He’s not touchy. Everyone knows this, but she’s the exception to a rule that has held true his entire life. But he loves this, loves the feeling of this.

“I like this,” he says, intentional eye contact trained on her shaking irises. He reaches out and laces their fingers in an act of bravery that rivals some of his most intense moments, “I’m wanting inf you want more of it. Because I do.”

“You do?”

She’s back close to him, now, and he’s so immensely grateful for it. She smells like lilies and her, and this might be the only time he’s brave enough to do something like this. 

It turns out he doesn’t have to, because before he can answer, she kisses him. It happens fast, and his response is all instinct- pulling her into him closer, his hands around her waist and her soft sigh into his mouth that threatens to kill him. It’s better than his fantasies at night could have made him expect. 

“Hi,” she says, barely above a whisper when she pulls away. She looks a little adorably off-guard, in a way he’d like to create- like to instigate. 

“Hi back,” he says, a beaming grin threatening to spread over his face. He tries to memorize the feeling of this, the weight of her in his arms in case this is not something he can keep- he wants to remember it, what it felt like for her to kiss him, to be wanted by her. 

“Do you want to go out sometime?”

“Like out of here? It’s kind of cold outside-“

“On a date, Spencer.”

Instead of a response, Spencer kisses her again. It is absolutely the right choice.

[eccentricwritingbaby]

baby finn series, interruptions 

lando norris x wife!mom!reader

series masterlist

summary - parents with a high sex drive plus a toddler who doesn’t like to be alone equals lando and y/n facing a funny yet frustrating dilemma. set before pregnancy with baby girl norris. 

masterlist

-

monaco was always peaceful and beautiful in the morning, something you and lando cherished by leaving the drapes slightly open in your bedroom the night before. it was the best way to wake up naturally, the morning monaco sun casting a blanket of light onto your tired bodies. as you slowly wake, the light kissing you gently, your body begins its stretch as your back bends into your sleepy husband behind you. his grip around your waist gives you a squeeze, signaling that he had woken up as well. the feeling of his lips dragging along your neck only confirms your suspicions, leading you to smile and roll over in order to face him. 

“g’morning, love,” he whispers once his tired eyes finally meet yours, crinkling at the corners due to his sleepy smile. his hand still caresses your waist, moving it up underneath your, his, t-shirt gently and back down to the waistband of your panties in repetition. 

“morning, baby,” you reply, voice still hoarse from the eight hours of no use, “did your jet lag finally wear off?”

“yes,” he sighs, pulling you into him tighter with the arm that was wrapped around your shoulders, “i always sleep well with you next to me,” he whispers, leaning in to catch your lips in a calm kiss, “wish you came to the race,”

“i know, me too,” you hum, connecting your lips again, “i just had too much work to catch up on,”

“you could’ve done it at the hotel,” he nudges your nose with his, lips colliding a little deeper this time as your hands are brought up to his soft curls. 

“not with a toddler also attached to me,” you giggle, now adjusting for your husband to lay between your legs, hovering over you. 

“baby, let’s not mention the munchkin while we’re having a moment,” lando giggles, hand pulling your shirt up to expose you even more. he leans in again, allowing your laugh to give his tongue access even further to your mouth. you felt his length through the thin boxers he had on poking your thigh, causing you to reach your hand down, slipping it into the fabric softly, holding and pumping him slowly. 

lando lets out a groan as he feels your hand begin to move, his own coming up to your breast, holding and squeezing as he continues his gentle exploration of your mouth, “feels so good, love,” he chokes out, now moving his lips to your neck, nibbling on the exact spot he knows elicits your arousal furthest. 

“mhm,” you can only let out a hum as you look into his eyes, “inside me, lan,” you whisper, knowing that soon your little one would be up and you didn’t have much time to waste with foreplay. 

“we’ve got time, baby,” lando whispers to you, his hand now moving to slide your panties to the side, fingers soaking up your wetness and spreading it around your heat. 

“c’mon lan,” you plead softly, knowing that would grab his attention, “please,” you breathe out, causing your husband to cuss under his breath at your neediness and pull down his boxers further. 

“ready, love?” his eyes scan your features, a smile gently spreading across his face at your eager nodding in response to his question. just as his tip hits your entrance, there is a very noticeable sound coming quickly towards your door. 

“MOMMA! DADA!” finn squeals from outside your bedroom door. 

“shit,” lando curses quietly, pulling up his boxers and adjusting your shirt and panties for you. he gives you a soft ‘i’m sorry’ look as you replicate it on your own face. he gets up and rushes to the bathroom, letting his - problem - subside as you get up to throw on shorts and open your door. 

“good morning, baby,” you giggle towards the little hyper-active two-year old bouncing around at your feet, “how’d you sleep?” you swiftly grab him to sit on your hip, heading back to the bed as he babbles a bit about his wild dream, you trying your best to intently listen. just as he finishes up his story, lando walks out of the bathroom - now with a pair of sweatpants on - and collapses onto the bed beside you and finn. 

“hi buddy,” lando welcomes his son into his arms as finn begins his crawl onto his father’s stomach.

“hi dada,” your son giggles up at his father from his perch on lando, “how you?” he squeaks out. 

“how am i?” your husband chuckles, making eye contact with you, “frustrated,” he hints lightly, both of you then laughing at the perplexed face of your son, his vocabulary not strong enough for that word or implications yet.  

-

seven in the evening. a wonderful time. finn’s bedtime. lando had been washing up after dinner as you tucked in your son for the night. walking out of his room and into the kitchen, you immediately wrap your arms around your husband’s middle as he finishes up washing the last dish. leaning your head against his back, you feel his damp hand rub against your own as he turns around in your hold to face you. 

“hi,” he whispers, leaning down to capture your lips in his. 

“hi,” you sigh, forehead’s resting against each other, soaking in some alone time that was missed this morning. you tilt your head up again to kiss him, feeling his tongue swipe against your bottom lip, physically asking for access. you grant it with ease, opening your mouth as lando begins backing you up until your hips come in contact with the counter. one hand on the back of your neck as his other squeezes your hip, you moan lightly at the feeling of his large hands holding your body firmly. his hands will always be the death of you - and he knows it. 

lando smirks into your mouth at the sound, pride bubbling in his stomach knowing how he makes you feel. spreading your legs slightly, your husband takes that as an invitation to push his thigh in between them, allowing you to grind on it for some sort of relief. the kiss has gained ultimate traction, traded breaths and gasps, moans and roaming hands on each other’s bodies, both of you attempting to start what you couldn’t finish in the morning. 

“momma?” finn’s quiet question breaks you out of the trance, leading you to whip your head around to where his tired body was in the doorway. your big baby, your husband, drops his forehead down to your shoulder, his hands squeezing your hips hard to imply his frustration. you bring a hand up to run through his curls, your other reaching to stroke his back in order to imply your own recognition of how you feel as well as soothe him. 

“what, baby?” you sigh out, meeting his little eyes. 

“i can’t sweep,” he breathes, puppy dog eyes in full effect as they stare up at you. 

“you can’t sleep? do you want another bedtime story?” you suggest to him, lando whispering a quiet ‘i hope the fuck not’ in your ear, causing you to stifle a laugh. 

“sweep with you and dada?” finn asks, his cuteness leading you to a larger dilemma. 

“uhm,” you ponder quietly, turning your head a bit to try and meet your husband’s eyes. he lets out a slow groan and lifts his head to look at his own son. 

“fine, buddy,” he directs to finn, “but just tonight,”

“yay!” finn cheers, clapping his hands and reaching out for his father. lando lifts him onto his hip, glances at you with a wink, and takes your son to the bedroom. 

-

it had been two days since then, and neither you nor lando had the release you’d hoped for. finn had been extra needy the past few days, not wanting to leave either of your sides. by the time you would climb into bed at night, you were both beyond tired from the day that there wouldn’t be enough energy. and in the morning, right as you’d wake up, there were tiny footsteps stomping right outside your door. 

“baby,” lando nudges you, “look,” you were having a movie night, the evening before your little family would all depart to the next race. you and your husband were cuddled next to each other on the couch, his arm draped behind your head, your head laying on his shoulder. your son, the object of lando’s attention, was asleep across his lap, “he’s asleep,”

“ya wanna take him to his room?” you gently ask your husband, hoping the little boy would stay asleep throughout the night for once.

“yes,” he nods, “you meet me in our room,” he lifts finn into his arms softly, shoots you a wink and heads off. you quickly tidy the living room, an ignited pep in your step due to lando’s implications, and make your way into the bedroom. you hear your husband’s heavy footsteps following you into the bedroom and he hastily shuts the door, lips already making their way to yours. 

“mmph,” you let out a muffled hum at the contact, hands coming up to wrap around his neck. his hands lower down to your ass, giving it a squeeze as he pushes you against the end of the bed. moving his hands to take your sweatshirt off, you quickly use your own to help take his off as well. 

you spin the both of you around and give lando a push to sit on the edge of the bed. you slide your shorts down as he watches you with bated breath, eyes raking over your body, only covered in skimpy underwear. his breath is heavy, hands reaching out and itching to have you on top of him. you follow his needs, your knees landing on either side of his thighs, connecting your lips yet again.

“so fucking sexy, y/n,” he whispers out as you begin to grind down on him, attempting to get some sort of relief from the past three days of built up tension. he gives your ass a light tap as you continue to make out, before he flips the both of you over, your back landing on the bed. he stands over your body at the foot of the bed, lip coming in between his teeth as he stares down at you. 

“how’d i get so lucky?” he rhetorically asks, shaking his head while beginning to slide his pants down, “you look absolutely delectable, love,”

“are you going to do something about that, lan?” you ask him, eyes widening and your lip coming out in an innocent pout, the one he loves to kiss right off. 

“oh baby, you have no idea-”

“DADDY!” finn’s yell from his bedroom shakes the both of you out of your moment. 

lando groans, knowing finn just needed attention and not anything serious, leading him to yell over his shoulder, “GO BACK TO BED FINN!” you giggle at his action, lando looking back at you with a smirk as well. 

“NO!” finn yells back from his room. 

“fucking hell,” your husband sighs, pulling his sweatpants back on. he drops a kiss to your lips and gives your hip a squeeze, “you stay right there, i’ll be quick,”

“but not quick later, right?” you joke with a giggle. 

“never, baby,” he smiles, “i like to take my time with you,” he leans over to kiss you again, you now taking the dominance and pushing your tongue into his mouth. he moans at your actions and begins to climb back on the bed until-

“DADA!” lando’s head drops and you smile and pat his cheek lightly. 

“hurry back, i’ll be waiting for you,” you giggle at his slow movements towards the door. 

“you better not fall asleep,” he points at you, “i’ll be as fast as i can,” you nod at him, watching him disappear out the door and into your son’s room. you move to throw back on your shorts and hoodie, just in case finn had to come back in the room or call for you as well. just as you’d suspected, five minutes later lando comes marching into the room, a quiet little boy on his hip. 

“what are you doing in here?” you ask with a laugh as your husband gently tosses finn onto the bed towards you. he’s in a fit of giggles as his dad moves onto the bed and begins poking his stomach.

“little mate can’t sleep in his own room,” he sighs, continuing to tickle finn. 

“i miss you,” finn slips out through his laughs.

“you miss us?” lando looks down at him, “you’ve only seen us for the past four days, buddy,” your little family spends the rest of the night laughing and sleeping, but you and lando both share a look to convey that this little problem needs to be fixed. and soon.

-

race weekend arrives and your young family has traveled to spain for the spanish grand prix. walking into the paddock after another night of no sex and a two year old in between you two, lando was holding finn’s hand in his left and your hand in his right. 

“i’ve never been more excited for my parents to be at a race,” he whispers, “finn hasn’t seen them in a while,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

“already finding a way to dump our son on someone else, are you dear husband?” you laugh as he unlocks your fingers and moves his arm to be around your shoulders.

“yes, ‘m not proud but i need ya baby,” he whispers again, this time planting a kiss to your neck after speaking. 

“well that’s too bad, because your dad called earlier saying they would get here late,” you give him a sympathetic smile, “you’ll already be in the car when they arrive,”

“then he’s sleeping at their hotel tonight,” he declares with a laugh, “he needs some grandpa and grandma bonding time,”

“alright,” you agree with a giggle. just as you walk up to the mclaren garage, you see oscar and lily standing right outside and greet them with a smile, “hi, osc, lily,” you nod at oscar and bring her into a hug that she gratefully accepts. finn has run into oscar’s arms, already babbling about his new mclaren hat that lando had bought him. he was still wearing his ferrari shirt, but the hat was better than nothing as your husband had said to you earlier. 

“he’s gotten so big since last time,” lily giggles to you and lando, “i’ve missed him,”

“do you want to hang with him for a bit?” lando offers quickly, “i’m sure he’d love that,”

“oh yes!” lily laughs, oscar picking up the little boy and nodding his head as well to lando, letting out his agreement to hanging with finn for a while. 

“aw great!” lando claps, “finn you wanna hang with uncle oscar and aunt lily for a while?”

“uncle oscah! aunt lily!” he claps in oscar’s arms. the couple swoons at the little boy as lando’s hand comes down to swipe your bum.

“go to my driver’s room, go, go,” lando hurries you into the garage, “before they change their mind, go,” he continues to push. 

“okay,” you laugh, “i’m going, i’m going,” as you made it to his driver’s room, you made up for plenty of lost time.

and later when finn stayed with his nan and papa at their hotel - you and your husband celebrated the second place podium finish he had as if you were child-free once again.

-

[pangur-and-grim]

I was thinking about how long it takes to build a relationship with an animal.

like when I first got Tallgeese, she'd run in fear if I tried to approach her. and now three years later it's hard to walk through the backyard, because she's following me about like a puppy and placing herself directly beneath my descending feet.

meanwhile Grim was standoffish for the first few years of me having her, and would act all offended if I tried to scritch her ears. and now, in year eleven, she keeps me up at night by forcing herself under my arm and purring like a jet engine.

it makes me emotional. like here are my little guys, we've spent years figuring out how to love eachother, no big deal or anything.

[poguehearted77]

Lights, Camera, Action!

Summary-> It's your first day on set and your nerves are through the roof but the cast makes you feel at home. You practice your lines, but the sparks between you and Drew are unscripted.

Belongs to my: OBX Season 5: Payback for Maybank Series

These can be read in any order!

You're jet-lagged, but your body has no idea. Too distracted from the abundance of nerves pumping through your veins as you walked around the enormous film lot toward the set.

You stand on the edge of the bustling Moroccan set, heart pounding as you clutch your sides. The scarf draped over your head feels both like a costume and a shield, helping you blend into the character you’re about to bring to life. Even with the months of preparation and the script readings under your belt, this moment feels surreal.

Everyone hustled across the set with purpose, knowing exactly what their job was and how to do it. You had only a fraction of that confidence as you were approached by a familiar face, one of the directors, Josh Pate.

"I can sense your anxiety from a mile away." He teases and it pulls a smile and a small breath of relief that he was friendly. With a comforting hand on your shoulders, "Take a deep breath, go grab a muffin from craft, have some water and I'll see you back here for your scene in 20, alright? I don't need any more faintings on the clock."

Once the words process, he's already gone. Fainting?? More??? With dazed eyes, your eyes scan the environment, dozens of people dressed just like you. Some sitting on the sidelines while others got into place on set. You'd even spotted Madelyn off to the side, a make-up artist lightly padding her face to protect it from the lighting as she prepared for her scene.

You took Josh's suggestion seriously, and promptly, or at least you tried to. You had no idea where to find crafts services or even if you'd be able to find your way back. "Craft Services is the first door on your left." Your head whips around with a face of slight terror in your eyes at the mind-reader from behind you. It's JD.

"How did you know?" It's the first thing you say, slight amusement and a hint of awe evident in your voice. He shrugs, "You were either looking for craft or the bathroom. It was a 50/50 shot, to be honest." He laughs and it calms your nerves a little. After a little while and a good conversation with JD, you glanced at the clock on the wall.

It became apparent you didn't have much time left. Quickly you end the conversation and head inside the room he'd directed you to. The studio was warm, credit to the Morrocan heat that surrounded you on the outside.

"Cups, cups, cups.." You mutter to no one in particular as you desperately scan for the item you need. "Here you go," A big hand is outstretched in front of you with a new cup dwarfed in its palm.

Your eyes followed up the length of the arm until they met those famous ocean-blue eyes that owned your TikTok feed for months last fall. Drew. He has the infamous buzz and soft smile as he looks down at you.

"Thank you," It's a simple response but it's the best you can do in a situation like this. Turning away from him, you fill your cup and finish its contents in nearly one sip before tossing it and rushing back to set not wanting to be late.

You rush back to set, still feeling the phantom warmth of Drew’s presence. For a moment, you wonder if this strange mix of tension and excitement is something all new actors feel or if it’s just you. The scarf draped over your head has now become a makeshift security blanket, as much for your nerves as for your character.

Josh greets you with a reassuring thumbs-up as you step into position, the antique shop set sprawling around you with meticulous detail. Dusty shelves lined with ornate trinkets, cracked pottery, and rusted brass figurines fill the space, dimly lit to convey the musty atmosphere of a forgotten bazaar. The air smells faintly of incense, which only adds to the immersion.

As the Pogues enter the set, Madelyn offers you a friendly wink, her playful energy making the tension in your shoulders ease. You remember bumping into her at one of your meetings with the writers. She's as pure as her character and it was relieving to see a friendly face on set.

Chase gives you a nod of encouragement, while Jonathan seems almost shocked to see you, probably since you'd never mentioned who you would be playing. He sends you a motion of acknowledgement anyway and you smile back.

The cameras start rolling, and suddenly, you are no longer you. As though it were a chemical reaction to the words 'Action', your brain switches to the character you've studied for months in anticipation. No longer Y/n, now Piper.

You busy yourself behind the counter. Attending to the tasks that depend on you as the owner of your antique shop. Your focus is set on the vase in your hands as you sweep over its rim with a cloth.

The bell of the shop chimes as six foreigners enter the shop, standing in a crowd with some of the most grim expressions you'd ever seen. "Vases on the left, woodwork on the right. Let me know if you have any questions." The phrase sounds ingenuine as it has only been repeated every day for the last three years.

"We're not here for some fucking pottery-" Rafe claps his hands down on the counter, you don't react. Sarah corrects him, "Rafe." You look back to the bunch, now standing at your full height,

They were filthy, covered in sand, dirt, and essentially any other grime that could find them. "We need supplies." Sarah says and you shrug, "What did you have in mind? Glasses? Lamps? Clocks?" The group lets out a frustrated set of sounds.

Pope clears his throat, "We need weapons, and we were told to come find you... the pied piper." You tug down the fabric that'd been covering your face to the bridge of your nose. Unveiling the full length of the scar that begins in the center of your forehead, runs down over your left eye and reaches your cheek.

John B whispers, "Just like he said," You make him speak up, "Just like who said. Who sent you?" He steps closer, "Mr. Alami, the merchant from Agapenta. He said you would be able to help us." Your expression elicits a sign of understanding but quickly returns to disinterest.

"I don't help foreigners." The explosive one outbursts again, "You sound just like we do, clearly you're not from here either, so stop shitting us and give us the guns." Those cobalt orbs penetrate the window of your soul but only bring out the sinister grin on Piper's face. "Fine," Swiftly reaching behind your back, revealing the weapon they so desperately wanted, you hold them at gunpoint.

"-And Cut!" You place the gun down on the counter and Drew approaches the counter once again. "That was really good, I even got caught up in it." He places a hand on his chest to add sincerity.

"Thank you so much. I was really nervous for today, I had no idea what to expect." Someway somehow your conversation moves off to the side of the set, seated on those acting chairs.

You laugh as he brings up your fleeting encounter earlier, "I had no idea you were playing Piper. One second I handed you a cup and I turned around and you're gone." Your stomach hurts from laughing. You take a deep breath of air to stop yourself from dying. "Stop stop stop," You beg, neither of you sure what you were laughing about anymore.

There wasn't much time until you would resume the scene but in the short time, Jonathan and Carlacia invited themselves over, giving a proper introduction, sparking a lively group conversation. Being 26 put you somewhere in the middle of the cast's ages, but no one got treated any differently because of it.

This current moment was proof. You and Carlacia posed for a selfie she insisted on taking, honouring the 'newest member' into their family. Both leaning in over the image on her screen you share a hearty laugh. JD is captured in the background in the middle of a gnarly yawn.

"Give me the phone, Lacy. That picture is a federal offence." He threatens, not an ounce of seriousness to be sensed in his voice. "I demand justice." You're almost certain you'd have a fully developed six-pack by the end of filming just from all the laughing.

Before you knew it the break was over and you were back where you'd left off. Went through the scene once more, adjusting anything that needed to be altered and carrying on. "I'm only going to ask you once, what do you want?" You've got a tight grip on the weapon and a crazy look in your eyes.

For the first time, Kiara breaks her silence. "Chandler Groff killed our friend! We can't let him get away with it." Her pleas pique your interest, and it's evident in your expression. "Chandler Groff, The conman?" They nod slowly and you begin to fume.

"Come." You wave them over, whipping open the curtains and entering the back of your shop. Four walls filled with various weapons from swords to machine guns. "Feeling like a kid in a candy store." Cleo beams, looking at the options, nothing but revenge in mind.

"Is that a canon?.." Pope trails off, "You've gotta be ready for anything. Expect the unexpected." Pope wholeheartedly agrees while John B begins questioning your knowledge about Groff. "He wronged some friends of mine. He got away before I could get to him, and that was a good call. I would've blown his brain to bits if I got my hands on him."

Kie smiles at that mention, "That's the dream," John B mutters. "Last time he was here, he was after some magical relic, a mythical one might I add. The blue... crest?" The item is lost on you when Sarah fills in. "The blue crown." It dawns on you at the mention.

"It's real," Kie admits and all the pogues turn to her with horror at her honesty. "Groff has it and god knows where he could be with it." You think, "If what you're telling me is true... then that crown is worth hundreds of millions of dollars. He can't just sell it at any auction. There's only one person with money like that. Mr. Finch."

"Where can we find him?"

"He's far. A two-day journey at minimum. You'll be forced to cross enemy territory and only locals know how to navigate the oasis under the radar. If you really are set on killing Groff, I'd be happy to lead you."

You notice an exchange of various looks between the group. "We need a second." Suddenly there's an exclusive huddle that leaves both you and the tall man at odds. He was sending daggers towards you. "Too cool to be part of their little club, are you?" Rafe stalks towards you, long intimidating strides. Displeased with your little joke.

Your faces were close enough that you could see his pupils dilate and contract now in the light from the window. "Listen. I've heard everything you said, and I'm not buying it. I don't trust you, and if you think for even a second I'll let you get in my way, you've got another thing comin'."

You noticeably gulp, it was unscripted but your nerves propelled it. He towered over you, your dark brown eyes searching his blue ones for any signs of insincerity but none was to be found. Every word he said, he meant it.

"And Cut! Drew, Y/n, amazing," Josh adds, and it's only when you hear your names called that you both back away from each other. However, it felt a little harder than normal, as if something was drawing you in.

Madison calls you over, and your feet are already on the move. With one last glance over your shoulder, your eyes meet his for just a moment.

His piercing eyes hold yours, a mix of curiosity and something unspoken flickering behind them, making your chest tighten with uncertainty. You can see it—he feels it too.

Taglist: @percysley, @lilithblackkk, @rafegf-real, @eternallovers65, @drsza

[macfrog]

epilogue sex on fire

once more for old time's sake, hm?

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: guess who's getting married - and you're all invited.

warnings: age gap, alcohol consumption, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, daddy kink, praise kink, a weird bus metaphor. idk where it came from. but it works. enjoy!

word count: 6.9k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 💚

It passes in the blink of an eye.

Letting go of your mom’s hand at the school gates; forgetting when you next reached for it. Dancing around a laptop with an acceptance email from your first-choice college onscreen. Walking into a new job with a broken heart; walking out whole again.

All in the blink of an eye.

Joel says it too, as he scrolls through floorplans.

“…Used to be Tommy’s room, way back when,” he swipes to the next screenshot, “I thought it’d look good if we – we took down this wall, and – you see?”

You nod, twisting the hem of your T-shirt around your finger, and curl a little closer into his chest.

He still smells like the fresh coconut bodywash he stole from your bag. The sweet scent that he lathered up and let spill down your tummy, foamy bubbles slipping over your hips.

Under the rainfall shower, he massaged all the pain away. The sweet ache of three hours spent rolling around the bed of your bridal suite, letting him hold you and kiss you and fill you in ways only he has ever done.

You can still feel the heat of him between your legs. You miss him there.

“I see,” you whisper, tucking in beneath his chin.

Joel kisses your head. “You okay? You’re quiet, baby.”

“Just listening,” you reply, and he locks his phone.

“Maybe that’s enough Maple talk for the night, hm? We oughta be relaxing, getting ready for tomorrow.”

“No,” you turn in his grasp, “I wanna see what you’re doing with it. I think it’ll look good, Joel. Did you get the home report yet?”

He slides his phone onto the nightstand and wraps his arms around you. “Not yet. Soon as the work’s done.”

“It’ll look brand new. Totally different.”

“Mhm,” he smiles, “Sure will.”

You lay down on his chest, trimmed hair tickling your cheek. His heartbeat is familiar against your ear. It still skips a beat, even four years in. Still quickens anytime your hand falls over it.

“Are you ready to let go of the place?”

Joel takes a deep breath. “I guess I have to be,” he says, though the words tremble in his throat. It’s not often you catch him feeling uncertain. “Mom’s gone, Tommy said he don’t want it. Unless we pack up ‘n move outta the city, place would just sit there – empty.”

“Hm. Too many memories to let it go to waste.”

“Well, they ain’t all good ones,” he admits, drawing circles on your shoulder.

You thought, that afternoon in your bedroom, that he’d shown you his whole hand. Thought you knew every suit, every card he held. All the things that made Joel who he was – perfectly polished.

The cars, the property, the jet. The company – Jesus, there ain’t a thing he seemed more natural at, than running a multimillion-dollar business. He made it look so goddamn easy.

It used to drive you insane – how together he was. The cracks you could barely see, he’d glued them so perfectly. The ease with which he could hold himself in one hand, and hold you in the other. Just take it all on his shoulders like it weighed nothing.

For every card of yours that was turned, though, Joel revealed another of his.

Maple hadn’t always been the postcard it so looked. White walls, red mailbox. Flowerbeds and slamming doors; two boys’ bikes and one empty dining chair. He told you things with a flash in his eye – and you were never sure whether it was the fire of fury or the salt of sadness.

Joel isn’t so seamless after all. He’s a mosaic of everything that has ever happened to him. Joy and pain, everything in between. A shattered collection of shards, shimmering in the sunlight.

He’s beautiful. For all the brokenness, all the stitched skin – he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

He makes you feel beautiful, too.

“Well,” you say, “Maple raised you, so – I love it.”

He looks down at you like you’re brand new. Like it’s the first time he’s ever laid eyes on you.

Running his business looks natural, sure – but loving you comes as easily to Joel as breathing.

“Alright, pretty girl,” he says. “Bedtime.”

You groan into his chest, nose flat against the threads of silver. “Don’t wanna go to bed, Daddy,” you mumble.

He cups your head. “You’re nervous, huh?”

You nod between his pecs, and Joel laughs.

All this time, all the moments of doubt you’ve squashed with the toe of your shoe – and they still manage to creep back in. The corners of your vision still blur, the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. The scars have long closed, but the skin still remembers.

“You know I’m gonna be there, right?” he says. “The whole time. I’m kind of the one you’re marrying.”

“Oh,” you tilt your head, “So that’s who you are.”

He lifts his hands, mirrors your stupid smirk. “Pleased to meet you.”

“What if we don’t see each other? I mean – before…”

“We will,” he promises. “I’ll getcha at the bottom of the stairs.”

“’s gonna be a pretty hectic day, Joel. We might not have time –”

His chin lifts. His lips part, the way they do when he’s about to chew up your panicked gibbering. He takes a breath and, straight as the line of his brow, repeats himself.

“I will get you at the bottom of the stairs. Okay?”

Your frown melts. Okay, you mouth, and he pinches your nose.

“I love you. Now, sleep.”

He flicks the light off.

Four years. Four years passed in the blink of an eye.

Twelve hours after your leaving party, you were strolling through Lavender Oaks, hand in hand. Nothing to hide anymore, no one to convince – not even yourself. You loved him then, whether you really believed it or not. Whether you had the courage to look it straight in the face, or not.

You had loved him for a while, really. It was the last card you had to deal. And Joel knew, long before you’d admitted it to yourself. He’s always been the patient one, hasn’t he?

That night, then, deep in the belly of last summer. Some leafy, twinkling rooftop garden of a restaurant that you can’t even remember the name of, because all you remember is him. Loose collar, long day. Drinks menu in one hand, the other cradling yours.

He was tired, and you knew it. He’d hardly stopped since seven a.m., working all through lunch and straight to eight – but he’d promised you dinner that week. It was already Thursday, and he had a conference or a company retreat or whatever it was that weekend.

You can’t remember. All you remember is his face, the second you said –

When are you going to ask me to marry you?

Joel faltered for all of three seconds – though if he’d had a mouthful of wine, he’d probably have choked on it.

Tomorrow, he said. Yesterday. Now. Marry me.

You laughed. I’m serious. I want you to ask me.

Really? His smirk faded into something more earnest. He looked like a boy, the way his eyebrows lifted and his lip trembled. A boy who believed in magic. The candlelight flickered across his face, suddenly wide awake and glowing with life. Would you say yes?

Mhm. And I wouldn’t break it off two days later, neither.

Lucky me, he mused. He paused, then added, You know we don’t have to, right? I’m happy, baby. I’m happier than I ever thought… his voice wavered and he gulped, I’d be happy the rest of my life, the way we are.

Joel, you lifted his knuckles to your lips, I want to be your wife. I want you to be my husband. Just – just ask me. I’ll say yes.

He beamed back at you like some lovestruck fool. You suppose he was; suppose he had been since the moment he first saw you. A goner as soon as he opened that office door, as soon as he felt the way your hand fit so perfectly in his.

I love you, he said – for what felt like the millionth time. Somehow, he made it mean more each time.

I know, you replied, leaning over the table to kiss him. I love you, too.

In the blink of an eye, your life changed from lonely blue mornings to bright golden dawns. From two boxes of stuff and a Swiss cheese plant, to an entire office with your name on the door.

You collected stripe after stripe, took leap after stride; chased every promotion, every chance, every speck of something over the horizon. Life got busy, you worked your ass off – but for the first time ever, you felt like you were becoming something. Becoming someone.

Joel sat up through all your late nights at the kitchen table. He poured coffee after coffee, carried you to bed when you couldn’t stare at the laptop any longer. He carefully consoled and aptly controlled every stress-induced breakdown you ever had.

He bought you a peace lily to keep your monstera company. He held your hand at every work event you had. He promised you could do it, and slowly, surely, you realized he was right.

So when you told him you were ready – and only then – Joel traded that little gumball ring for a new one.

A real one.

It happened in Paris. He took you back to that same glitzy restaurant – the delicate wine and rich steak, the chandeliers and renaissance ceilings. He echoed every word of French you spoke in a little Austin accent; played footsie under the table and flirted like it was your first date.

He was nervous. Indestructible as he seems, he still has his tells. He played with your hands the whole night, asked if you were okay every second sip of his drink.

Yeah, you said, I’m good. You?

Yep. Yeah. Good.

Your hands are shaking.

He smirked. I’m on a date with a real pretty girl.

He could barely wait for the elevator to reach the suite. He kept closing in on you, pressing words into your neck and playing with the straps of your dress. I love you, I love you, I love you, he said, gripping your waist.

I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.

Everything sparkling – the champagne, the stars, the thousand and one candles he had lining the balcony. Everything golden – the tower, the ring, the feeling flooding through your chest. And in a shaking voice, on a shaking knee, with shaking hands you had to cup as he spoke, he asked you.

Easiest yes ever.

He’s already asleep. Head tipped back, snoring to the ceiling. He looks so cute that it makes you giggle.

“’night, baby,” you lull, and cuddle into his chest.

Joel’s alarm splits the morning at seven.

He reaches over to silence it, groans into his palm, and rubs his eyes open. “Mornin’, angel,” he sighs – same as always. The same two words that kick off damn near every single day since you got together.

“Morning,” you reply, and hug him tighter.

You watch as he comes to life. Stirring beneath you, heart fluttering against yours, skin still warm and sleepy. You’ve been awake for the last hour just watching him – fingers trailing the valleys of his collarbones, nose nuzzling into the rugged hinge of his jaw.

Sometimes you wonder if it’ll ever fade – the rush you feel when you see him. The way the world tinges pink, mutes for a moment or two – and Joel is the only thing in any of your senses.

He lifts his arms in a loud stretch, biceps popping. He sucks in a deep breath. “We should do something today.”

You scoff. “Like what?”

His lips turn. I dunno. “Make some lifelong vows, maybe.”

“Sounds boring,” you huff, pushing yourself up. You roll from his grasp and pad over to the bathroom. “Why don’t we grab lunch instead?”

“Boring?” Joel scoffs. He follows you to the sink and curves around you in a bear hug. “Spent over a hundred grand on this thing, Ms. Miller. You telling me we wasted our money?”

His hands sneak under the material of your tee, lifting it over your bare hips. There’s a weight building against the small of your back – another thing that kicks off nearly every single day. It sits heavy, twitching when you reach for your toothbrush and your ass ruts against him.

Joel hisses. “Goddamn, darlin’,” he grabs your hips and steadies you, “Easy on me, now.”

“I’m not the one groping.” You spin in his arms, toothbrush between your molars.

“Can’t help it –” he kisses your neck, “– when you look –” the other side, “– so sweet –” he lowers with a tiny groan, “– ‘n you taste –” he places a long, damp kiss to your tummy, “– even better.”

You squirm in his grasp. “Joel, we don’t have time for –”

“Sure we do,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue to your slit. “It’s us they’re waitin’ for.”

You drop your brush into the sink with a gasp. “Tommy’s gonna be here any second.

His eyes flash up to yours. “Who?”

He scoops your ass and pulls your thighs over his shoulder. Deft with it, a body he knows as well as his own by this point. A body he loves even more.

You open up for him like he never left. Still warm and wet from last night, still coming down from each high he took you to. Sometimes it feels like this is all you do. Sometimes, you wonder if there’s ever a time you feel more you, than when you’re wrapped around some part of him.

Joel’s voice reverberates through your body. He groans as he licks, nips and sucks between your legs, slowly easing you off the counter and onto his mouth.

You reach for his hair. The salt and pepper streaks, the bedhead only you ever get to see before he’s washed and groomed into that perfect shape of himself. A carefully carved shape, ruggedly handsome but intentional.

He’s more relaxed this way. Your way. Before the world seeps into him, before the suit and tie and hundred-dollar cologne. When only his sun has seen him, stirred him, swept her fingers across his broad chest and whispered sweet nothings in his ear.

Heat is pooling in your stomach, flooding through your veins. It’s cracking open your chest, drawing breath from your lungs. You grip the edge of the counter, back arching, hips rutting against Joel’s tongue – and you come.

He doesn’t miss a beat. Doesn’t miss a drop. He laps every second of it up, every pulse of your cunt, slowing only when you crumple against the mirror and sigh.

Your fingers swirl around his hair. Your body feels heavy with pleasure. The shock is still looping around your bones.

Joel kisses the inside of your thigh and stands, crossing his arms at your spine.

“I love you,” you hum, licking yourself from his lips.

He smiles. A dreamy, golden thing. Still just him and the sun. “Love you, too.”

This morning, of all mornings, might be cutting it fine. They’ve already started setting up downstairs. Twenty tables, one hundred and fifty chairs, one thousand roses, forty bottles of champagne, three grand behind the bar.

The last thing you need on the day of all days is for the bride and groom to be late.

Still. He’s rock solid and right there, throbbing against your tummy.

You slip your hand around him and squeeze, massaging his tip with your thumb.

Joel’s jaw ticks. He feigns offense. “Baby, we don’t have time,” he says, eyes on his cock as you guide him south.

“Shut up,” you breathe, “Shut up and fuck me.”

“Ain’t saying no to that,” he replies, and his hips meet yours.

You groan in harmony, wrapping closer together. Joel finds a quick pace, body snapping into yours, holding you strong and steady in his arms.

“Jesus,” he pants, “Three times last night wasn’t enough for you, huh?”

“F-feels like it wasn’t enough for you, either.”

He laughs. “Forever wouldn’t be long enough in this little cunt, sweet girl. She’s too good to me. Loves her daddy, don’t she?”

You follow his gaze down, where his thick cock drags between your legs. Soaked with you, slick and shining with each thrust of his hips. Deeper and deeper, touching a part of you only he’s ever been able to reach. Pulling noises from your throat only he has ever been able to pull.

Joel rolls his forehead against yours and lifts your eyes to his, a messy kiss to your lips. “Like it when you watch,” he whispers. “You see how pretty she looks?”

“Mhm,” you hook an arm around his neck, “Feel so pretty, Daddy.”

“My beautiful girl.” His lips close around yours again, tongue hot and heady in your mouth. His pace stammers when you moan against him. He curses, hips jolting.

He’s close. All too close.

He won’t come before you. Not before he’s drawn another from your body, felt every pulse of your pussy around him. Not before he’s watched you fall apart; felt you collapse into his arms with it.

He slips out, kissing your temple to shush your petulant whine. “’s okay,” he folds your legs to your chest, “I gotcha. I’m here.”

Over his shoulder, the sun lights your reflection in the shower glass. His toned back, the swells of muscle across his shoulder. Hiding the shape of you from the morning – his moaning mess of a girl, gripping onto him and screaming into his chest.

She sobs his name and you taste it on your tongue. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. Each one louder than the last, each one sorer.

The window is cracked open. Anyone might be walking under it.

And you like it, don’t you?

The chance that someone might hear. Might know exactly what Joel’s in here doing to you. Ruining you for anyone else, like he’s done a million times over.

It’s as though he lulls you into it. Like waves, starting in the pit of your belly and rolling outward. Heavier and deeper and sweeter, until your orgasm crashes over you in bursts of warmth.

Your arm tightens around Joel’s neck, brows knitting when you reach your peak. You keep your eyes locked on his, and he mirrors your expression.

“Oh, good girl, honey,” he rasps, pausing when his own high overcomes him. He twitches, little bursts of heat in your cunt before flooding the entire thing. He holds your hips flush against his until his cock stills and breath fills his lungs.

He pulls you against his chest and sits you back on the counter. If there’s one thing better than being fucked by him, it’s the comedown. The aftercare. The kissing, the fixing you back into shape.

Your pussy flutters around him. Your ear against his chest, you feel your heart beating in time with his.

Joel cups your head and dots kisses down to your shoulder. He makes to pull out, and you fuss.

“Stay,” you whimper, tugging on his arm.

He smiles. “Oh, baby, wish I could,” he squeezes your waist, “but I heard Tommy knockin’ on the door five minutes ago.”

He strolls back into the bedroom, massaging a knot out of his shoulder.

You sit, stunned, leaking all over the counter, before rushing through at his heels. “Asshole!” you hiss.

He chuckles as he pulls a hoodie over his head. “Couldn’t leave my lady unsatisfied, could I?”

You throw yourself into a pair of his pajama bottoms. “I think she’d have been fine with it, given your fucking brother is right outside.”

He swings the door wide open. You curl around one of his arms.

Tommy leans against the opposite wall, picking at his nails. He straightens, scratches his beard, and smacks his lips.

“Told you you’d sleep in, brother.”

Joel’s chin lifts. He nods, amused. “You did tell me that, yeah.”

You want to slap him for how cocky he definitely feels. His little brother is none the wiser.

The denim-donned Miller steps over the threshold and reaches for you, a bristly kiss to your cheek. “Mornin’, sweetheart. How you feelin’?”

“Good,” you lie.

“Nervous,” Joel corrects, cocking an eyebrow.

Tommy laughs. “Talk to Maria. She’ll calm you right down. She felt the exact same on our day.”

Their day. Almost ten years ago, back when you and Joel were strangers – and he and Tommy were as good as.

Credit to him, he put up with the pestering from both sides – that is, you and his mom – for six months, at the start of your relationship. Slowly – painfully slowly – he began to entertain the conversation. Never gonna happens turned into if it ever did happens.

He learned to unlock his jaw, to make eye contact with his mom when she talked about Tommy. He asked questions he hadn’t asked in years. He learned where he and his wife lived, what they named their son.

He learned that they’d had a spring wedding. He learned that Tommy’s best man was his drinking buddy. He fell quiet, and his mom knew to change the subject. On the drive home, he held your hand a little tighter than usual.

Six months which, in the end, felt less like convincing him – and more reassuring him. Yes, Tommy might ignore all of his calls. Maybe Maria might answer, and tell him in a hushed voice that now’s not really a great time, Joel.

Maybe his brother might pick up the phone himself, tell him to go straight to hell.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t hardly recognize his big brother’s voice, at first. There was a pause a few breaths too long right after Joel reintroduced himself – long enough that you thought you might’ve kicked him all the way back to square one. And then –

Well, shit, brother. How the hell have you been?

You spent your first anniversary in Jackson. You took Joel’s mom up there every year after. The brothers fit back together like they’d never been apart, like they’d never forgotten the shape of each other’s hug, the cut of the other’s good humor.

Tommy took you in like you’d been part of Joel even before either of them knew your name.

Your fiancé pulls you into a hug. He kisses your head and asks his brother to grab the elevator.

Tommy salutes as he turns down the hallway. “See you later, little sis.”

Joel holds your face and taps your nose. His lips twist in half a smile, half frown. “You gonna be okay?”

“Sure,” you sniffle. The sting of tears brims your waterline already and you blink them away. You’re hiding from him.

“I’m right downstairs if you need me,” he says, spotting you clear as day. “Just call.”

“Not supposed to see you before the ceremony.”

“Yeah,” Joel winces, “don’t think we’re supposed to have sex, either, but we broke that rule a long time ago, pretty girl.”

His hands are so big around yours. So steady, pulse loud only from your morning tryst – if at all. He plays with your fingers, straightens the ring on your third.

A sharp bell sounds. Tommy whistles for his brother. Your chest aches.

“Few more hours,” Joel says. “Few more hours and then we got the rest of forever, just you ‘n me.”

He wanders down to the elevator, turning inside. He leans against the back wall and crosses his arms. His eyes meet yours, lips curl in that trademark smirk of his, and the doors close.

The stairs are cold and breezy. The manor doors have been wide open all morning, guests filtering through, allowing the cool to cluster in each corner of the house.

It’s been a busy morning. Par for the course, so you hear. No bride gets through her wedding prep unscathed.

You’ve spent four ass-numbing hours dutifully planted in your chair, your nephew in your arms as something of a comfort blanket, eating fresh fruit and drinking cold champagne and promising not to touch your makeup after the artist is done with it.

Maria uses the light from the window opposite the top of the stairs to finish buttoning your dress. She balances on the second step, peering up at your trembling figure.

“It’ll be over before you know it,” she says.

“In the blink of an eye?” You scoff, but she nods.

“I’m serious. You won’t even feel it, and it’ll be over. You’ll be lying in bed tonight telling Joel, Maria was right.”

You clasp your fingers around your bouquet. “I’m sure he’ll love that.”

“He could stand to hear it more often.”

You giggle.

A pair of warm hands sweeps down your shoulders, turning you by the elbows. Her dress is a deep olive, spilling over her arms in waves of shining satin.

“Mom,” you breathe, leaning into her.

She smiles, pinching your cheek. “This is it,” she says simply, like it is as simple as tying your shoelaces. “Deep breaths.”

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of…” Your eyes scan the summery wallpaper behind her. It offers no answers. “…What if we’re not ready?”

She glowers. “Oh, yeah. Good point. I’m sure the man who flew you to Paris after two weeks is not ready to marry you. We should send everybody home.”

“It’s just a big deal,” you continue, “Lots of people downstairs.”

“No, there’s not. There’s not,” she cuts your protest, voice sharp, “There’s only one person in that room, and it’s him. And you’ve done scarier than this, right?”

Your head wobbles in weakened agreement.

She links her arm through yours. “I remember,” she leads you downstairs, “a little girl with shaking knees, boarding a bus to camp for the summer. I remember her teary face, her tiny hand waving goodbye from the back window. Ain’t this just the same?”

Your bridesmaids slip past, hoisting their silky dresses above their ankles as they tackle the winding staircase.

“Alright, well,” you sniff, “I was eleven when I went to camp, so. Significant difference.”

“I disagree,” she says. “It’s a scary thing to do when you’re eleven, and maybe getting married is a scary thing to do when you’re thirty. But you got on that bus because you wanted to, and you’re doing this because you want it, too. It’s simple, sweetheart.”

She pauses a step below. Her hands drop from yours. Her eyes are glassy, tears threatening to spoil her makeup.

“Sometimes,” she whispers, “we mistake fear for excitement. Butterflies can feel an awful lot like nerves. Sometimes, something scary can take a similar shape to something wonderful. And you never know the difference until you step on that bus.”

She takes another step down and you reach for her hands – the same way you reached for them at the school gates, twenty years ago.

“Mom –” you squeak, twisting your fingers around hers.

She kisses your knuckles. “You are going to live the happiest life with him, I just know it. You’re going to take such good care of each other.”

She skips off around the bend in the stairs, shawl flurrying. At the bottom, she crosses paths with someone, squeezes their sleeve with affection.

He sways into view slowly, carefully, like he’s trying not to spook. Hands in his pockets, suit sleek and smart. Beard trimmed as close as you’d allow, hair fixed as neat as he’d allow.

He cleans up good. He always has. If it weren’t for the handrail, you might faint into his arms.

When he speaks, his voice is light, warm, soft on your skin. Wraps around you and draws you in, safe and sound. Calls you home.

“There’s my girl.”

And you walk to him.

“Hi,” you say, voice soft, heels clicking.

Joel watches every step. His eyes loop up and down your figure, scanning from the swishing hem of your dress to the twinkle in your eyes. He’s somewhere between the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face, and shattering into tears.

“Oh, darlin’,” he sighs as you twirl into his arms, “You are so beautiful.”

You straighten the flower in his pocket. “You’re pretty beautiful, too.”

You fall together, bodies magnetized. Joel’s chin lifts and your lips connect in a tender kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist, hands travelling north along the figure-hugging material of your dress.

“Good choice,” he mumbles into your mouth.

“Mhm,” you reply, a joyful lilt to it. “Knew it was a winner.”

You stand for a moment, swaying together. Your arms crossed around his neck, his snug around your waist. Breathing one another in, steadying each other. Souls finding the other again.

Some last-minute guests scurry through the doors over his shoulder. Their footsteps echo through the hall as they find their seats. Joel holds you all the tighter.

“You ready for this?” he asks.

You take a deep breath. “Yeah. More than I’ve ever been, my whole life.”

“We can still call it off,” he smirks, “Take off on the honeymoon, never talk to any of these assholes again.”

He laughs when you do, relief blooming on his face.

“No, Joel,” you say. Your voice feels clearer, stronger with your body against his. “I love you. I love you so much, and I…I wanna get on the bus.”

His brows pinch. He tilts his head, scoops your jaw. “You…Wh–? What, baby?”

You nod to yourself, staring at his tie. “I wanna get on the bus,” you repeat, voice barely there.

He blinks down at you. His thumb strokes your cheek. He makes to reply – some dumbfounded quip, probably – when a voice splits you apart.

“Psst! You two!”

Your mom ducks her head out into the entrance hall. She clicks her fingers. “They need you up front, Miller.”

He nods and turns back to you, bending to look you in the eye. “Catch your breath,” he says. “Just a little while longer.”

“I’m ready,” you decide. “I’m ready.”

“Alright. Then let’s get on this goddamned bus, whatever the hell that means.”

The celebration is alive with a string melody, the tinkling of glasses, and bursts of sweet laughter.

Your cheeks ache from all the smiling. Your throat is dry from all the talking. And you don’t care. You could do this for the rest of your life, if Joel would let you.

Turns out getting married is pretty fun – once you’ve done it, that is. When all that’s left is to swing between tables, chat until you run out of breath, dance until your feet hurt. Eat until you feel sick, drink until your head dizzies, weep in the bathroom with your friends then reapply your makeup and repeat.

It’s a year-long effort with only a day’s payout – but as far as days go, it’s not half bad.

In the same grand hall you said I do in three hours ago – soaring windows with drapes strung to the heavens, pale flowers arranged on every table, chandeliers glistening overhead – you search for the one missing piece.

“Have you seen my husband?”

Drew scoffs as he approaches your spinning figure. Beer in one hand, his daughter in the other. He shakes his head, laughing.

“You ain’t used to saying that yet, are you?”

“Nope,” you pinch his daughter’s hands, “and I hope I never am.”

She squeals with laughter, kicking her legs under swirls of chiffon. She throws herself out of her father’s arms into yours and you catch her, perching her on your hip.

“Good for you, kid,” Drew says. “You deserve it. You both do.”

You smile and peer down at the toddler tugging on your diamond necklace. “Your uncle Joel bought me this,” you babble in her ear. “If it breaks, you’re one sorry individual.”

She giggles all the louder.

“Last I saw him,” Drew tilts his bottle towards the patio doors, “he was out on the terrace.”

Your eyes flit to the twinkling, dusky sky. “Alone?”

He shrugs. “Guess so.”

You pass his daughter back, fixing the bow on her dress. “I’ll find him. Thanks, Drew.”

The breeze breathes between the doors as you walk over. It’s a chilled night, but the fresh air is a welcome breather from the busy dancefloor.

Veiled by the sheer curtains, his figure relaxes against the balcony, staring out at the rolling lawn. He exhales a thick, scattered cloud of white to the sky. His head turns at the sound of your heels on the patio.

“Nice view, huh?”

Joel hums. His voice is clotted with tobacco. “Sure is, Mrs. Miller. Fine choice of venue.”

“Teamwork,” you reply, and pat your fingers against his palm in a weak high five. You cross your wrists over his shoulder and stare out at the mountains in the distance. “Out here all by yourself?”

“Just needed a moment. Take it all in.” He tilts the cigar in his hand. “Make use of my wedding gift from my best man.”

There’s a blanket of chill slowly settling over the valley. It hugs a little too tight around your bare arms. You shiver, nestling closer to Joel, and he straightens.

“Here, baby,” he says, shrugging his jacket off. He drapes it over your shoulders and rubs them warm. He plucks the cigar from its ashtray, offering it silently.

You scoff. “I’m not gonna like it.”

“I know,” Joel replies, “but we’re celebrating.”

The stick is heavier than you expected, dry and hard between your fingers. The cap is sliced, dampened by Joel’s lips.

He watches your mouth, smiling when you inhale. “Not too much,” he clasps your wrist lightly, “Only a little.”

It’s rancid, if you’re honest. Clogs your lungs with what feels like unbreathable heat, a sickly-sweet flavor that crinkles your nose. The smoke punches from your lungs in a broken cough. And once they’re clear – you lift the cigar for more.

“Alright,” Joel says, taking it back after a couple more puffs. “That’s enough, Kennedy. Like it?”

“Not bad,” you croak, stealing a swig of his champagne. “Don’t make a habit of it.”

“No, ma’am.”

You lean into him, elbows on the railing, following his outstretched hand as he points out each mountain peak.

He talks about the years he and Tommy spent camping, the long fishing trips with his dad. Regales in excruciating detail the time he pitched his tent right by a cluster of poison ivy, and woke up covered in bloody, blotchy blisters.

He talks about all of it easier than he has in years. As though the dust has settled over the memories, the good and the bad, and all that’s left is to look. No more shifting things around in his mind, trying to find where it all fits. Everything is exactly where it needs to be.

After a while, he kisses your head. “Hey,” he says. “Congratulations.”

You lift your head. “You, too…?”

“You got married today.”

“Did I? Shit, I didn’t mean to.”

He flicks his eyebrows. “That something you saw yourself doing, five years ago?”

No. Not at all. But then my boss held my waist to his in a dive bar, and – you know the rest.

“Hm,” you flatten your lips, “No, but then – you’re not something I saw myself doing, five years ago.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Stay classy, pretty girl.”

You giggle. “I’d do anything, long as it’s with you. Mess around on the first date, fly to Paris on the second. Meet your mom, like, three weeks in.”

“You are not countin’ that lunch with James from accounting as our first date,” he protests. “That shitshow was not our first date.”

“You paid for my meal and you fucked me in the bathroom. Date.”

“No,” he points a telling finger in your direction, “No. If we have kids one day, they’re going to ask. We gotta get our story straight. Our first date was Paris. I took you to Paris.”

“Whatever you say, old man.” You bunch your shoulders, snuggling deeper into his jacket. “Deep down, you know the truth.”

“Can we change the subject?”

“What do you wanna talk about?”

He searches the skyline, plucking up courage when the last of the setting sun catches his eye. “Well,” he sounds nervous, “I thought I could give you your gift.”

You fiddle with your necklace. “I thought you already did.”

Joel shakes his head. He takes your wrists and lifts your hands. “Close your eyes.”

“If you drop a living thing into my hands, Miller,” you screw your eyes shut, “Divorce.”

“Uhuh,” he mutters.

He holds your hands in one of his. There’s the ruffling of linen, a faint jingling, a roaring cheer from inside.

There’s the cold kiss of metal in the cushion of your palm – tiny, featherlight – followed by a coiling, and something jagged.

You hold in a laugh, breathing nervously. “I’m scared,” you whisper, and Joel kisses the hinge of your wrist.

“You trust me?” he asks.

“I trust you.”

“Then, open.”

Your eyes flutter, and there he is. Still standing before you, still smiling. Still holding your hands. He nods down, and you look.

In your palms lies a small brass key. On the end of the chain, a single silver maple leaf tag. It winks back at you, moonlight reflected in its grooves.

You lift the key. It’s worn by time, metal nicked and imperfect. Brass a little tarnished. The leaf sways in your clutch.

“Maple?” you ask, and Joel nods. Your eyes begin to well.

“I know we’re happy in the city,” he says, “and I know it’s just some little paint-chipped house. It’s probably still got school reports ‘n shitty comics up in the attic. I just – God, I can’t shake it, baby.”

You look up at him, a question in your teary gaze.

“A little birdie once taught me,” he steps closer, “that it’s okay to lose things. To let ‘em go. I didn’t believe her at the time. I was scared. Scared to lose her, scared she might find something better. I reckon she was pretty scared, too, but – even when I thought I lost her, she came back.

“She said this thing about making new memories. Better memories. And I just can’t shake it.”

The words catch on your tongue on their way out. You’re only just now realizing how different life was before. Before him, before this. How empty and cold it felt, how little you noticed before the sun peered through the clouds and said something in a drawl laced with love and humor.

How quickly you ran into its warm, open arms.

Joel goes on. “The guys are making a real good job of it. They said there’s plenty potential, and you know it has that huge yard. Now, if you don’t want it, say the word and it’s gone. Out of our hands. But,” his voice breaks, “if you do, then – it’s yours, darlin’. It’s been yours since the moment you walked through the door.”

And, well – hasn’t everything?

The job was yours the very second you tiptoed into his office. He told you so himself. The job, the desk, the free trip to Europe. You walked into his life and flipped everything on its head, without even knowing it.

You worked for him for three years before anything ever happened. Three whole years of elbow nudges and fleeting glances and one too many questions about whoever the other was dating. Joel figures he loved you all that time. You figure you loved him, too.

You changed everything for him. From that first glance, the first meeting of your hands, nothing was ever the same. All of it, from the spare cabinet in his bathroom to the third finger on his left hand – it was all just waiting for you to make it your own.

Hasn’t Joel’s heart belonged to you since you first laid eyes on each other?

You turn the key between your fingers. The answer rolls along the tip of your tongue. The longer you stay quiet, the more nervous you know he’s feeling.

Your eyes meet his – and you smile.

“I want a porch swing.”

Joel chuckles. “Done.”

“And we host Thanksgiving every year.”

“Every year?” He almost grimaces.

You’re staring each other down. It’s as much a game as it is a genuine request, like most of what you do. Just as much teasing as sincere.

You nod. “Every. Year.”

“Okay,” he relents. “Anything else?”

Your eyes drift off behind him. Inside one of the windows, Drew and Rachel twirl their little girl in time with a familiar guitar melody. She throws her head back in a fit of laughter and they pick her up, spinning her around.

Joel glances over his shoulder. He breathes a laugh. “I’ll give you that tonight if you really want it.”

You lean into his chest and kiss his jaw. “I just want you.”

“You got me,” he says. “Hook, line, and sinker.”

The rest of the band kicks in. The raspy lead singer, the perky drum beat. The dancefloor fills some, hands thrown to the ceiling, glasses spilling over.

You bite down on a smile, eyes flitting to Joel’s.

He twists his shoe into the patio, nudging into your side. He extends his arm and you link yours through, following his lead inside. “Good song,” he mutters.

“Hm,” you agree. “Little before my time.”

[pathologicalreid]

separation anxiety | S.R.

spencer's first case back from paternity leave involves children, so a concerned party reaches out to you for help

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: mom!reader, dad!spencer, vaguely described breastfeeding, word count: 1.28k a/n: this is technically the reid family from cryptic, but you don't have to read cryptic in order to understand this fic.

Your book rested in your lap as you pinched the thin paper of the novel between your index finger and your thumb. You had one foot on the ground, and the other was on the bottom of your daughter’s stroller, effectively rocking the stroller in two-four time so the infant would stay asleep.

Just because the A-Team wasn’t around didn’t mean there weren’t people working in the BAU. A crying baby would certainly disrupt the workflow in the bullpen – even if the baby belonged to a member of the BAU. Although, you had already fed her – mostly covered – at Spencer’s desk, so maybe you were past the point of no return.

You and baby Nellie had just been staring at each other at home – she was doing tummy time – when your phone went off. A mysterious text from Derek Morgan had popped up on your phone screen.

Derek Morgan: Got a sec?

It wasn’t that you and Derek never texted, it’s just that it was usually under the realm of “on my way” messages and, more recently, baby pictures, but you usually communicated indirectly using a massive group chat that was created by none other than Penelope Garcia.

So, when you answered and he asked if you’d be able to meet the team when they arrived at Quantico, you hesitantly said yes. He explained more once they were on the jet, the case that they had been on involved young children, and there was a little girl that had struck a particular chord with your boyfriend – who was on his first case back from paternity leave.

Eleanor was three months old, and you weren’t sure who’d have a harder time being away from one another – her or Spencer. You hadn’t considered how Spencer would feel when confronted with a case involving children now that he was a father. Quite frankly, you had hoped that he would’ve had more time before he needed to face a situation like that.

You waited, still using your foot to rock Nell’s stroller as the cover diffused the fluorescent light, you could hear her moving now, likely having woken up from her nap, but if she wasn’t crying, you saw no reason to stop her from playing with the colorful toys that dangled above her.

Sighing, you peered up from your book to see the elevator opening on the sixth floor, revealing the team behind the steel doors. Morgan clocked you first, winking as he passed through the glass doors to the bullpen.

Spencer hadn’t noticed the two of you yet, so you slowly opened the cover of the stroller and picked your daughter up, holding her gently to your chest. The infant fussed a bit while she was being moved, effectively gaining the attention of her father, whose face lit up at the sight of his family waiting for him at his desk.

Pushing past the rest of the team, who had also noticed the small being in the room by this point, Spencer approached his desk, haphazardly dropping his bag on the metal surface before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Before even bothering to separate your lips, he was taking the baby from your arms.

“Hey,” he murmured, pulling away from you slowly as he secured the baby in his arms, bending his neck to place his lips on the crown of Nell’s head, “I missed you, angel girl.” His voice was gentle as you looked on fondly, she reached out a small hand and gripped the collar of his shirt. “How are you?” He asked, turning his attention back onto you.

You smiled at the two of them, using a cloth to wipe the drool from her chin before Spencer took it from you, deftly draping it over his shoulder in case he needed it shortly. “Good,” you answered, “tired,” you added.

Across the bullpen, Emily waved at Eleanor, grinning broadly as she walked over to her desk with JJ. To her enjoyment, the baby responded by letting out a coo and smiling before turning her attention to her dad, nuzzling her face in his chest, “Did I miss anything?”

Raising your eyebrows, you shrugged, leaning back and sitting on Spencer’s desk, “She pushed herself up on her arms yesterday.” It wasn’t a massive milestone – you were still grateful that Spencer had been present for her first real smile.

“Oh, yeah?” He responded, proudly looking down at his daughter, who had moved on from nuzzling and was now trying to see just how much of her hand she could fit in her mouth. “Did you know that babies usually go through a sleep regression right before they learn a new skill?” He asked, directing the question at Nell, “That must be why your mama looks so tired.”

You waved him off, crossing your arms in front of your stomach, “She’s lucky she’s so cute.”

The familiar click-clack of heels notified you that Penelope Garcia had made it to the party, likely signaled by another member of the team, “The cutest little girl in the world!”

Even though every member of the team had held your daughter at one point or another, you weren’t entirely comfortable with her being handed off like a hot potato. This, combined with Spencer’s aversion to germs, led to an unspoken rule: wait until one of her parents offered to let you hold her.

“Did you want to take her for a bit?” You offered, looking over at Spencer as you did. He needed time with her, it wasn’t your intention to deprive him of that, but you needed to check in with him without the distraction of the baby. Handing her off, you spoke up, “Watch your earrings,” you tapped on your earlobe, “She will grab them.”

As Garcia held the baby, she made her way around the bullpen, allowing Eleanor to make grabby hands at everyone and everything.

Keeping an arm around his waist, you looked up at your boyfriend, “Are you alright?” You asked, keeping your voice low as there was no sense in airing your concerns to the now bustling office.

Spencer’s smile faltered ever so slightly, “They were just kids. There have been kids before, but now…”

“Now you’re a dad,” you finished for him. “It’s not just something that you could see happening to someone else; it’s something you could see happening to yourself.” Pinching his side slightly, you smirked at him knowingly, “You know, your levels of empathy and sensitivity increase when you become a parent. Your brain adjusts to make yourself a better parent.”

Rolling his eyes slightly, Spencer raised his eyebrows at you, “You know, I vaguely remember telling you something very similar last week when you were crying at an ASPCA commercial.”

You reached up to ruffle his hair, “Nice try at sarcasm, babe, but you and I both know you never vaguely remember anything.”

“How did you know to come here? That I’d need to see her?” Spencer asked, watching as Penelope continued to parade around the BAU, now taking her up the stairs and through the roundtable room. “Was it a mother’s intuition?” He suggested, taking up a lighter tone.

Turning around, your eyes followed Garcia as she walked with Eleanor, “I was contacted by a concerned party.”

Spencer followed your gaze, “I’ll thank Garcia when she gives our baby back.”

You hummed, “Actually, it was Derek, he-“ Your voice cut off abruptly, “Oh, Penny, I told you she’d grab them!” You called from Spencer’s desk, but Garcia was already on her way to return Eleanor, holding one hand to her ear as she handed the baby back to Spencer.

[nayaesworld]

Rugged Whiskey

Warnings: Alcohol use, Smut, Toxic behavior and situations

—

Terry Richmond X OC!Khia

A/N: Chile Terry is on thee worst demon time in here…

__

Friday couldn’t come fast enough for Terry. The work week was hard and he was at his wits end with an attitude to show for it. His dark brows scrunched in annoyance and a slight mug on his face as he raced home to wash away the impurities of his workplace. What he needed was a release, and a happy welcome into the weekend. He had settled on checking out a new bar about 15 minutes from his apartment, the reviews were great and the food and drinks looked yummy. Why not check it out?

Fresh out of the shower with a large towel wrapped around his waist he applied a light leave in cream to his short waves and brushed it throughout his head. Outfit laid out like his first day of school uniform, he began getting dressed. A silver wristwatch accentuating his bulky arm, he misted himself down with his Jo Malone cologne,snatched up his truck keys, and headed down to his truck.

He ate the 15 minute drive up…mostly because he drove awfully fast most days, and he spent another few minutes finding a decent parking spot. The bar was jumping and he watched as hotties of all shades of brown sashayed into Sapphire, some accompanied by a man. He read from the digital sign on the front doors that tonight was R&B night and hurriedly paid his fee at the door thanking god he had arrived on time and didn’t have to stand in line.

Terry liked the atmosphere so far. The loud music thumped through the walls and bodies gyrated to the beat of the good music. The music was good and all, but Terry needed hot liquor running through his veins. He found the bar quickly and that’s when he laid eyes on an angel. Had the heavens opened up above and dropped one…just for him?

Low rise jeans with a tight black baby tee with the establishment name on the front and low rise jeans that showed off the arch in her back right above that fat ass. As he got closer to the elegant looking bar with plentiful seating her deep mahogany skin glowed under the warm lighting and her perfect plump lips were lined a dark brown and covered in a shimmery clear gloss.

He subconsciously checked his fit and ran a hand over his smooth waves before walking up yet he was smacked in the face by her beauty and a cute little country accent. He was never prepared for her to fuck his head up like she would.

“Hi, welcome to Sapphire. I’m Khia and I’ll be your bartender. What can I getcha’ to sip on tonight?” With a warm smile and high cheekbones she welcomed him to the bar and Terry’s skin felt feverish when she laid eyes on him.

“Hello pretty… I’ll take any of your top shelf whiskey on the rocks…I’m not picky.” Except Terry was picky, yet he was gobsmacked and grinning like the Cheshire Cat in front of this brown beauty.

He watched her Eeny Meeny, Miny Moe his whiskey before grabbing him a glass to fill with ice and her whiskey of choosing. She topped it with a small black straw and placed a napkin underneath before gracefully strutting back and placing it in front of him.

Terry thanked her and complimented the gold crescent moon necklace that hung from her neck, and next he was complimenting her short square French tip nails and watched as she cracked a cute smile at him. The two fell into a comfortable conversation about a basketball game that played on one of the large TVs and Terry sucked down his whiskey becoming more entranced by little miss Khia.

__

The layered jet black buss down framed the angel's face, seemingly flowing as they conversed.Her upbeat and cheerful attitude had earned her a five star rating and review on the small tablet in front of him as well as a $80 tip. He didn’t care if she was like this with all her customers and just played her part for a tip. Terry wasn’t opposed to spending money on women, and he didn’t care if the tip was more than gratuity, because he’d already planned on tipping her yet again in cash before the night ended.

She was a sight for sore eyes, her slanted eyes the color of the top shelf whiskey he’d just ordered with a view of top shelf ass to go right along with it. His eyes never left her, and when the bar got busy he moved away to let her do her job.

Women eyed him on the dance floor like hawks. Watching and waiting to snatch him up before the next one did. But Terry knew better, and he was laser focused on the bartender across the room from him. He watched her dismiss the drunk men at the bar with the blow of a kiss, a wave of her hand, and a smirk on her face,simultaneously cutting off their liquor when they got a little too rowdy with her. Flirty and mouthy with cocoa skin, just how he liked em’.

He was on his second glass of whiskey and wasn’t done with the amber colored alcohol. Terry was a dog off that whiskey; it went down hot and rugged and coaxed forward his nastiest thoughts yet it was his favorite drink to consume.

And Khia was a bad bitch, what he wouldn’t give to see her oiled up in his bedroom pop-Terry hurried to turn his head with his glass to his lips when she’d caught him staring again from across the dance floor. He acted busy and stared at the time on his phone screen…12:30 am. Not noticing the bartender baddie sliding from around the bartop to head his way.

A small warm hand pressed onto his lower arm causing him to whip around quickly. “Oh..I’m sorry for scaring you. Do you mind if I join you.. I’m off the clock?” She giggled softly at his startled expression.

“Nah sweetheart not at all…I was actually gonna ask you eventually but you had your hands full back there.” His thumb pointed back at the bar and he led her to a corner table secluded from all the nosey eyes. Up close she smelled of warm peaches and vanilla, a mouth watering sweet scent that filled his nostrils.

She had walked over with her own drink in hand; a lemon drop. When they had talked earlier she’d told him they were her favorite, sweet and easy to make but packed a punch. The two sat at the table rather close to each other and conversation flowed.

“So you don’t like large groups of people or clubs for that matter, yet you work in one?” Terrys raised glass to his lips as he chuckled at her.

“Heyy it pays the bills…and it’s really good money if you know what you’re doing and how to act with different people and personalities.”

“Hmm I hear you…so what kind of personality am I?” Curious and tipsy Terry rubbed and pulled at his goatee, he was eager to hear what she thought.

He watched her ponder over her words for a bit, her pretty face all scrunched up in thought. “Well at first you looked out of place and you kinda had this brooding expression, but then when you spoke it was different. You’re very nice and handsome and you hold a conversation very well…the last two hours of my shift literally flew by.”

“You think I'm handsome?….well I think you sexy asf. Best looking woman in this whole state if you ask me…. pretty girl.” He turned his head toward her, eating up the blush that flashed against her skin.

She nibbled on her plump lined lips and for a few seconds they locked eyes with each other before she scooted closer in her chair. “Are you flirting with me Mr.Terry?…because I assure you I’ll knock your socks off first.”

“And fuck handsome I think you’re fine asf.” She continued. “One of the finest I’ve seen in here.”

Terrys lower lip was tickled by his tongue. It lapped at the whiskey around his mouth and slithered back into his mouth; though he’d rather it be exploring Khia’s body and willing mouth.

“Mmm is that right Miss Khia…you got something you wanna do about that though?” He leaned back into his chair and let his long legs spread open, if it was something she wanted from him he was gonna make her come out and say it and stand on it.

She stood from her seat and offered her hand to him. “Dance with me….this is one of my faves.” Grabbing her hand he let her pull him to the dance floor and he heard the intro to Drunk In Love pour into his ears from the loud speakers.

I’ve been drinkin’, I’ve been drinkin’…I get filthy when that liquor get into me…

She turned to him and sang word for word, because in this moment the lyrics were reality for both of them, tipsy and filled to the brim with attraction and need for each. She turned her back to him and whined her waist against him, tossing her sleek hair from her neck and letting the bass of the song control her hips.

Why can’t I keep my fingers off it? Baby I want you, na-na…

He’d pay her bills and put a house in her name for her if it meant he got to feel her like this whenever he wanted to. His hands slid across her exposed stomach and down to her hips positioning her dead on his crotch. She could let Beyoncé get her in trouble if she wanted to, he would eat her alive.

….You got me faded-faded-faded Baby I want you na-na…can’t keep your eyes off my fatty Daddy I want you na-na..

Under the pulsing strobe lights Terry and Khia grinded against one another. Turning to face Terry Khia let her body drop into a slow squat, using his thick toned thighs for support as she held one hand over her head to pop her ass.

Last thing I remember is our Beautiful bodies grindin’ up in that club… Drunk in love..

And when she slowly rose back up she let her hand graze the bulge that had formed from her little performance. “How’s that for doing something about it?” She giggled into his ear at his dazed expression.

“You know you fine ass fuck don’t you?… I like a confident bad bitch.” Terry pulled a crisp hundred dollar bill from his wallet and slid it into the back pocket of her jeans, palming her thick ass.

__

One hand pressed against the brick wall and the other on her chin Terry and Khia were lip locked outside the bar. The loud smacking noises were fueled by a deep hunger and lust. Khia’s fingers slid up under Terry’s shirt from the front and she sighed into his mouth at the hard ridges of his abs. She loved a built man and Terry had her damn near melting.

“You coming home with me lil mama?….hmm you want some dick?” Terry pressed his plump lips into her neck and sucked roughly, he was so horny he was sure his erection could break through bricks right now.

“Mm yess I want this dick…I’m so wet Terry, can we go?” Her eagerness to let him slut her out had his pants feeling two sizes too small.

“Where’s your car, I’ll walk you to it…then I want you to follow me to my apartment. Imma give you what you want.”

He watched her dainty finger point toward the sleek aegean blue metallic Honda Civic and they began walking to her car. His hand sliding into the back pocket of her jeans pulling a laugh out of her.

“You just can’t keep your hands off of me…let me find out.”

Head cocked to the side he raised his bushy brows “Find out what?”

“That you feigning for this good punani…don’t be shame now Terry I’d be feigning too.”

“Oh so you doubling down…that pussy must be good good then?.., that’s cool because I got good thick dick to go right along with it…that good enough for you Miss goodpuss?”

“Show it to me…I wanna see that dick before I take it from you.” Terry smacked her ass after that. She had a nasty mouth, he had to make her eat her words before the night was over.

They finally made it to her car and she popped the locks and opened her driver side door and sat down facing Terry, watching and waiting. Making sure they didn’t have any prying eyes, Terry loosened his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. The gray boxer briefs were moist in the front where the head of his dick sat and it strained to get loose.

He slid them down just enough for his heavy length to slip out and leaned against the roof of her car. Khia’s warm hand sliding up and down and lightly squeezing had him throwing his head back and cursing.

“What the fuck…it’s so big and heavy. You just walk around all day with this big dick?…I’ve never seen one so big, I wanna kiss it. Can I ?” All her nasty talking had his heart rate picking up and his knuckles rapping against the hood of her car impatiently.

“You kiss this dick and imma make you suck it too…don’t play with me.” She ignored him and bent down to press her lips onto the leaking tip, juicy lips pecking over the length of his dick in a sick pattern.

“I do what I want Terry, this is my dick for the night.” Terry reached down and pulled her into a kiss. Their heads swiveled left and right as they took turns sucking each other's tongue. Khia’s hand between their heated bodies slowly gripping and pulling at his shaft.

“Fuck we gotta go…imma pull my truck up next to you and you can follow me.” He stuffed himself back into his boxers and made sure she was situated before closing her door.

He wasn’t scared to admit that he damn near ran to get in his truck, he was beyond horny and his skin felt electric. Pulling up on the side of Khia he rolled down his passenger side window and her pretty eyes looked up at him.

“Big man with a big truck…hmm not surprised that everything is big.” She bit at her lip and Terry directed her to follow him.

__

They made short time of their trip, and the highway was clear of traffic as they pushed their vehicles to get to Terry's apartment. Hands on each other immediately as they stepped onto the elevator leading to his apartment. Terry's hand underneath Khia’s shirt maneuvering around her bra to grab at a titty and pluck her hardened nipples.

The ding of the elevator caused them to jump and they quickly fixed themselves before strolling out towards Terrys front door. He pushed his key in and unlocked the door pushing it open. He showed her where to take her shoes off and walked towards his kitchen to grab a bottle of liquor. His finger motioned for her to come to him.

“Open your mouth…mhm put your head back.” He poured the liquor into her mouth with a hand at the back of her head. Once she swallowed he took a swig and put the cap back on.

“Take off this shirt…let me see these big titties ... .mm so big.” Terry grunted and Khia quickly removed her shirt and went to unfasten the clasp on her bra but Terry moved her hands and stepped behind her to do it himself.

His hands gripped and groped the hot flesh that sat in her cherry red bra. He unfastened the bra and sat it on his kitchen island juggling the soft globes of flesh in his large rough hands. Khia craned her neck backwards pulling him into a needy kiss while he rolled her nipples between his pointer and middle finger.

It was pure erotica. All the shit talking had to be backed up. The floor to ceiling windows in Terrys apartment had been his favorite thing about it when he toured it and now nasty thoughts filled his mind involving them. His hot mouth pressed onto her neck and sucked, he wanted her marked from head to toe.

Reaching his hands around to undo the button in her jeans, he let his hands reach down into her soaked panties. Letting his fingers play around in her drenched pussy, middle finger and ring finger sliding slowly in and out of her. Sliding his wet hand from her pants he lifted the dripping fingers to his nose. Pure euphoria. The pheromones wafted into his nose and he was ready to kick this shit up a notch.

“Undress yourself, then I want you to undress me.” He watched her closely as she shimmied out of her jeans, but made a show of pulling off her panties and that earned her a hard snack to the ass.

“Don’t tempt me right now Khia…all that shit you talked imma need you to back it up mama.” With a cute little smirk to her face she slid the panties off and tossed them into the pile with her jeans.

“Oh I can do that and more, now your turn big daddy.” Terry removed his wristwatch and placed it on the island.

Khia grabbed the bottom of his shirt and started lifting it up from his body allowing him to finish the rest of the way. She let her hands roam over the defined planes of his abdomen and sighed at the small trail of hair that started at his lower stomach and disappeared into his pants. Her hands rushed to undo the buckle of his belt and yank the pants down his long legs. When she finally got to his briefs she giggled in excitement, she had real plans for that dick tonight.

“Don't stop, pull 'em’ down and get your dick…that’s what you called it right?” And she didn’t have to be told twice. When his dick touched her tongue she got greedy, her hands hungrily twisting up and down his hot shaft before feeding it into her mouth. She sucked on his leaking tip further amping him up and feeding her ego.

“You like how I suck this dick?” Her tongue slid further down to his balls slurping and sucking away as his hands began to tangle into her hair. He let her suck him off a few more minutes before he pulled his dick from her mouth and tapped it against her lips.

“Mhm you suck a mean dick I’ll give you that..get up and go stand by the windows I’m just getting started with you.” He pointed her to the large windows.

“I wanna give them a show…let the whole city know I’m fucking on the baddest tonight.”

Terry took his place behind Khia in front the large grand windows, groping and kneading the plentiful flesh of her ass. Pussy hot and ready for the taking he let his fingers slither between her thick thighs again, strumming his thick fingers against her clit. His bold green eyes locked onto her amber colored ones through the reflection in the glass, hands moving a mile a minute inside her and Khia knew she wouldn’t last long.

The clenching and unclenching of her abdominal muscles told her so as she leaned her head back and let him take her away, hands and breast pressed against the window for the whole world to see she felt herself cumming and her body instinctively began to curl away from the pleasure.

Pulling at her hair he forced her upright “Don’t fucking play with me right now…stand up now!” He growled into her ear and popped her ass hard, making her straighten her posture before continuing the assault on her sensitive pussy.

“Ohhh Terry wait wai-“ she began to squirt and it splashed onto the window soaking it right along with the both of them.

Terry removed his hand from between her plush thighs and licked his fingers one by one like they had been dipped in the sweetest icing. Khia turned on her feet and pressed her lips to his, hurrying to suck his tongue and taste herself.

Terry lifted her up and carried her to his bedroom. Mouth full of coochie juice and a handful of fat ass.

__

She was fucking HIM… it was supposed to be the other way around and yet here she was squatted over him dropping all that weight on his dick head thrown back and titties jumping in his face, she was slowly creeping her hand up to his neck squeezing lightly and sending pulses from his head to his toes. She was backing up all that talk and then some.

“Fuck fuck fuck…Terry this dick..oh I can’t.” She let her bounces slow down and that was her first mistake. He had been waiting for a sign of weakness.

Terry had them flipped over in the blink of an eye, pressing her face into the cool charcoal sheets of his bed. He lined his dick up and slid it in hell bent on fucking her silly and to the brink of exhaustion.He didn’t get tired and had the stamina of a damn thoroughbred. He had her on her stomach flat against the bed, one hand securing her neck and the other on her hip. Khias slippery skin was misty with a sheen of sweat and her wig was hanging on for dear life.

“Didn’t I tell you daddy was gonna fuck you up?…hmm. But no you kept throwing that ass on me, now I gotta knock this good pussy out the frame.”

His thrust were deep and rough, and she was barely hanging on to reality at that point. Each time she’d suck in a breath to soothe herself it would get knocked right back out of her lungs on an endless cycle.

An endless cycle of cumming and squirting had drenched the bed sheets below them and the handsome man with the extra large dick that was tapping at her cervix had her with a stuck look on her face;drool slowly leaving her mouth. But she was going out like a sucker…Mr.Big Dick was winning and mama didn’t raise no quitter.

“That’s all you got?…I know a nigga right now that fucks better than this. Your strokes are weak babe.” His grip on her wig tightened and his strokes sped up, his hips connecting with her ass and a loud smacking noise. Changing positions on her ass, he pulled and positioned her body into an arch placing a bulky bicep around her neck anchoring her underneath his large form. He grunted loudly into her ear hand curling underneath her to flick her slippery clit between his fingers.

“Say that shit again I dare you…I’m fucking this pussy up and you lying about it, I feel that squeezing let it out!” Khia realized quickly this was a losing battle, and holding off her nut in hopes he’d cave first was a failure because he hadn’t cum yet and it looked like he wouldn’t for some time.

“Ahh wait…Terry uhn..daddy please!” Khia was throwing in the invisible towel, he did indeed fuck better than them niggas but she loved to talk shit.

“Now I’m daddy…mm mm stand on that shit mama…throw this ass back!”

With the last bit of strength in her system she began to rock back on him slowly. Her pussy was beyond sensitive and she was extremely dehydrated and overstimulated, all the liquids she’d consumed that day drained from her body like she’d been dealing with a vampire.

“Mhmh and when you want some dick who you gonna call?… say daddy TJ..say it or I’ll stop!”

Terry slowed his stroking to an almost complete stop waiting and listening for her to say what he wanted to hear. “Okay okay…fuck. I’ll call daddy TJ when I want dick shi-shit, now fuck me please.”

Terry sped back up face in her neck sucking and nipping at the sweaty flesh. He was close and was prepared to empty his nut right into her, she deserved it for taking his slaying. The wet queefs from her pussy were music to his ears and he found it hard to hold on as it got louder, resolve slipping and balls tightening.

“Fuckkk I’m about to nut in you… good pussy shit…GODDAMN!” Terry was being drained and he wasn't ashamed of whimpering and moaning in this woman’s ear… this woman with the vice grip for a pussy.

They laid out on the bed, muscles sore and bodies spent. Moving eventually to shower off the nights events and crashed into his bed tangled together not shortly after.

__

Terry awoke that Saturday to an empty bed and no text on his phone from Khia. His face scrunched up with a mug as he got up to relieve himself and start his morning routine. He explicitly remembered telling her to text him when she left his apartment and yet no damn text.

Taking it upon himself to contact her he shot her a text making sure she had made it home safe and was shocked when his message didn’t go through, and neither did the one he’d sent after that one. Was he fucking blocked? This was not a game Khia wanted to play with him, you give him pussy that good there was no ignoring or blocking him. Did she think all that shit he said last night was a joke…shit she had to and for that Terry had to be on some shit about it.

Khia had just made it in from the Walgreens up the road from her apartment, and was eager to rush and take the Plan B pill she’d just purchased. She chugged down a glass of water and popped the pill into her mouth. She was sloppy last night and though she was grown and only had herself to blame she partly blamed that extra fine 6 '3 demon with green eyes for not using a condom .No man that fine would be denied pussy when he called for it, so to even the playing fields she had blocked him.

The dick was good, hell even spectacular but it also held just a little too much power for her, she didn’t trust herself around that man or his monster penis. She didn’t make good decisions while it was inside her.

The weekend came and went and by that Wednesday Terry was an afterthought. She had even expected him to pop back up at the bar like her other past suitors, but she hadn’t seen or heard from him since last weekend. Maybe he had gotten the memo after being blocked.

But it was always something so funny about speaking too soon… it always came back to bite.

__

Thursday was one of Khia’s off days, she used it to stock her house with groceries, workout, and tidy around her apartment. Today was no different as she placed her produce and frozen items into their respectable compartments in her refrigerator.

She was due for a run and couldn’t wait to stretch her legs and hit the ground running. Her violet two piece workout set on, tennis shoes tied, and her black beats around her neck she headed to the nearby park she liked to run at, it was less than a block away from her complex so she’d always opted for walking there to get in the extra steps on her Apple Watch.

Eyebrows scrunched with determination she could see the park right up ahead and picked up her pace and finally stepped onto the running trail. Music blaring loud and a steady jog to keep her heart pumping she was proud of her endurance. She was in her zone and utterly and completely locked in, oblivious to the watchful eyes across the street from her.

__

Was she fucking serious? Terry had been losing his mind with a hot case of being pussy whipped and here she was just..jogging? He realized what he was doing days ago when he had initially followed her home to her apartment after her shift at the bar.Some called it stalking. He called it keeping tabs, how else was he supposed to find out what she was up to?

He watched her go lap after lap and snapped a few pictures for his own needs. She wanted to ignore him cool, he’d make her speak to him one way or another. His truck sat just out of her view across the street from the park, a Birds Eye view on the beauty that was insistent on staying out of his hair.

But something caught her eye and she slowed to a stop and slid her headphones from around her neck, she was looking dead at him.

Like a deer in headlights she stood frozen in his direction seemingly trying to confirm his identity. And it seemed she had confirmed correctly as she moved quickly to put space between the two of them. Fuck.

Though this did little to deter him from her he felt he’d made his presence well known, and that’s all he wanted, for her to know that getting rid of him was not some small feat. She had to know how enticing she was, and Terry would lose sleep letting her know just how she had racked his brain.

__

The coming days for Khia had left her in a weird headspace. Was Terry stalking her? She’d known for sure that it was his truck she had seen that day at the park and she had made out his bulky figure from the distance. How long though? Had this been going on since the morning she slipped from his bed, was she actually this unaware of her surroundings?

She stared down at her phone annoyed as another unknown number called her. Terry had resorted to text now numbers and this would be the tenth one she’d had to block this week. She would get a text from a new number each time she blocked the last one. Each number sending a picture of her out and about in public completely oblivious to being watched and followed.

There were pictures of her loading her groceries into the trunk of her car and leaving work late at night, the newest one containing her smiling down at the new set of nails that adorned her hands as she left her nail techs suite.

|Unknown: You always fuck men that good and leave?

|Unknown: I love this smile on your face after you left your nail appointment, I’ll pay for the next set Khia.

|Unknown: When can I nut in that good pussy again? Terrence junior sound good to you?

The texts were constant and nonstop,and Khia was realizing a harsh reality about herself. She hated to admit it but she liked it. The cat and mouse game was turning her on and his constant begging for her pussy made her wet at night. She was sick of the games and wanting to be slutted out again, after all she knew the real power was between her legs. One wrong doing and he would be weaned off her cooch again.

|Khia: If you can find out where I’m at in the next hour this pussy is yours again daddy 😉

|Unknown:BET😈

________________________________________________

A/N: 🫣All in favor of crazy Terry say aye…anywho I hope y'all enjoy this bc he only get worse after this!! And I’m obsessed with these two so there will be another part, love ya bye 🫶🏾

@avoidthings @pocketsizedpanther @writingsbytee @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @simplyzeeka @zillasvilla @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @playgurlxoxo @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @theereina @keyaho @brattyfics @hotgrlcece @henneseyhoe @uzumaki-rebellion @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

[ohmytyong]

meet-cute

⤹ now playing: the christmas waltz by frank sinatra

PAIRING: stranger!jaehyun x female!reader

GENRE: smut (minors dni!!), strangers to lovers (?) au, fluff

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, pet names (baby), explicit sexual content; unprotected sex (!always use protection!), heavy make out, nipple play, slight hair pulling, aftercare, pretty vanilla tbh

WC: 3,4k

SYNOPSIS: you were bummed that you had to spend Christmas all alone in a foreign country after your friends left you behind. little did you you would find a charming stranger to keep you company

A/N: merry christmas to everyone celebrating! here's a little gift from me to you <3

* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

The muffled voices of people chatting around you mixed with the old christmas song playing from the bar's speakers filled the silence of your mind like a white noise. You whiffed the sweet scent of the red wine swirling inside the glass you were holding as you moved your hand from side to side, making you aware of your surroundings.

Despite it being Christmas eve, the bar was fuller than what you had expected. You would expect people to be gathered up at their homes, eating and having fun with all their loved ones, exchanging gifts and wishes and then getting wasted, laughing at the weird relative who had some more sips of alcohol than the others.

However, it turns out more people had the same fate as you. Sitting alone, in pairs, or in small groups at probably the only open bar in milan on this jolly day. You were informed about the jazz band that usually played live music here, yet you went to the place the only day of the year that they weren't there. Though it was kinda obvious they wouldn't be here today; it's Christmas eve for God's sake.

You took a sip of your wine, closing your eyes to savor the taste. You didn't know what it was, but the bartender definitely found your exact preference; sweet and strong on the tongue which leaves a slightly bitter aftertaste at the back of your throat.

As you set the glass down at the bar counter, you noticed a gust of air on your side, signaling someone else's presence. The woody masculine cologne that engulfed your nostrils made your head turn discreetly to the side, trying to take a glimpse of the man that it belonged to.

"A glass of Johnnie please, no ice," a soft baritone voice addressed the bartender and you couldn't help but fully turn your body towards the man, angling yourself in a position that showed your interest towards him yet keeping a safe distance.

The man definitely noticed your antics. You felt his fiery gaze look you up and down, taking in your full appearance. You flipped your hair, moving it all to the back which exposed your bare shoulder and upper chest. You noticed with the corner of your eye that the man drew in a sharp breath, shifting his body from side to side on the barstool. Your technique worked.

As you stretched your arm to grab your glass of wine, your heard the man clear his throat. "Now why would a beautiful lady sit alone at a jazz bar on Christmas eve?" the velvety baritone voice asked and the question was addressed to none other than you.

You finally met the man's gaze for the first time. He was gorgeous. His jet black hair was nicely styled, parted in the middle and framing his heavenly structured face, falling a bit long at the nape of his neck. His dress shirt was sitting tightly around his shoulders and chest, in contrast with the tie he was wearing which was hanging rather loosely around his neck. His sleeves were rolled up and you noticed his arm muscles flex as he brought the scotch glass to his lips, his watch glimmering under the dim lighting.

"Funny enough, I was about to ask the exact same thing," you played along, hiding your flirty smirk behind your glass of wine.

"You're looking for a beautiful lady too?" he asked, his eyes creasing as he smiled teasingly.

You chuckled at that, covering your mouth with you hand. So he had a sense of humor. "I meant a handsome man. But whatever rows your boat," you decided to play along, flirt with him too.

His eyes were piercing. He looked at you as if he were walking for miles in the dry desert and you were an oasis just a little ahead of him, like he was desperate to drink you all up. It would be lie though if you denied that you weren't looking at him the same way.

"I mean," he said between low chuckles, "there has to be a good reason why you're here. And alone," he finished, waiting for your answer.

You sighed deeply, tapping your fingers on the counter. "I was supposed to spend Christmas with my friends but they decided to be assholes and pull a prank on me. They dumped me. Told me we were going to Milan while they are in Vienna right now," you said, downing the remaining wine in your glass in one go.

The man visibly winced at what you said, as if he was physically in pain. "I'm sorry to hear that. That's so cruel, wow," he said, reaching out a confident hand to grab your hand resting on the counter, giving it an apologetic squeeze. Oh he knows what he's doing.

"What's your excuse for being here, pretty boy?" you asked playfully and he smiled. "My story isn't as sad as yours, it's actually kinda funny. My uh- my flight got canceled. I was in Milan for work and I was supposed to go home for the holidays but..." he trailed off, pressing his lips.

"Damn, i'm sorry," you said and you decided to flirt back now. Gaining dominance over his hand, you squeezed it, rubbing circles with your thumb over the back of his hand.

You noticed his eyes fixate on the spot your bodies were touching. Without realizing it, your barstool had moved closer to his and you could feel the heat of his body radiating along with the strong scent of his cologne. You hoped your perfume hadn't worn off after hours of wearing it.

"Actually," he spoke up, removing his hand from your grip, "something good came out of all this misfortune. I'm sitting at a nice cozy place with a beautiful lady to keep me company. Not that bad, isn't it? I'm Jaehyun by the way," he offered you his name, stretching his arms for a proper handshake.

It was ironic. You had already held hands without even introducing yourselves to each other. You giggled at the gesture and he smiled at your reaction, eagerly waiting for your name and your handshake with his arm still stretched towards you.

You gave him your name as you returned the handshake. The sight of the two of you must have looked somewhat awkward from a third person's point of view, but for you the interaction between you and Jaehyun had a warmth to it.

You didn't say it out loud like he did, but spending time with a lovely handsome stranger in a foreign place on Christmas eve wasn't as bad as it sounded.

You didn't realize it but you and Jaehyun had already been talking for almost two hours. Time passed by quickly, you were having a great time with him. He was weirdly charming, flirting with you in a slightly uncomfortable way despite the aura of confidence he radiated. He cracked jokes more than you expected and always found silly excuses to touch you, anywhere he could, signaling his obvious interest towards you.

It would be a lie if you said you weren't as interested in him, if more than he was. You found yourself laughing at everything he said, and you didn't mind the soft touches of his hand here and there. In fact, you craved them even more. You craved him. After two hours of talking, you weren't sure if it was the wine, the sleepiness or the pure lust you were feeling, but you couldn't bring yourself to listen to everything he said. You were lost in his eyes, his lips, his hands, his scent. You were sober enough to understand the pure attraction you had for him.

The bar was now almost empty. You saw the bartender cleaning some tables in the back, and only two groups of friends were there beside you and Jaehyun. You took this as a signal to get leaving as soon as possible.

After arguing with Jaehyun over who gets to pay for the drinks, he ultimately won over you, being kind enough to pay for all your refills of wine. You were opposed to this at first, but his kind gesture made your want grow even more, and the aching sensation between your thighs became too noticeable to ignore.

You wrapped your coat closely around your neck as you stepped outside the bar in the crisp coldness of December. You couldn't just go back to your hotel room like this. The night was still young, and you weren't ready to leave Jaehyun just yet.

"So, any plans for the rest of the night?" you asked, trying to get some information you could use in your favor.

Jaehyun shrugged, lifting his shoulders. "Not really. I mean, I'm alone here so there isn't anything else to do during this time of the night," he said, but you noticed that he wanted to say more than that.

You decided to take initiative and help him out of his shyness. "I know it's gonna sound a bit weird but," you drew in a breath, shivering from the cold and the nervousness, "would you like to come over to my hotel room for one more round of drinks? It's almost Christmas" you said looking at your watch.

Jaehyun tried to suppress a smile that was threatening to spread on his lips. You had cracked him. You knew he wanted you as much as you wanted him, and neither of you were ready to let go of each other so easily. Besides, like he said, you were all alone here. You only knew each other and there wasn't anything more fun than to spend more time with a person you grew to like. He had no excuse to refuse your offer.

With a hesitant nod, he looked into your eyes, smiling softly as he tried to study the intentions behind your question. "Sure, why not?"

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jaehyun kicked the door of you hotel room closed as he kissed you deeply, his hands resting on your back while yours were wrapped around his neck. Dropping your bag on the floor, you hurriedly took off your shoes, throwing them somewhere around the room.

Jaehyun struggled a little untying his shoelaces, but you helped him get rid of his jacket, throwing it somewhere behind him. You let your coat fall off your body, and with a quick motion your hands were back to where they were, wrapped around jh neck, pulling him close to reach his lips again.

The kiss was electric. Your entire body heated up with lust as you tasted on his lips the mixture of the different alcoholic drinks you had consumed earlier. Jaehyun slipped his tongue into your mouth, lowering his hands to the small of your back as you cupped his cheek with one hand, the other gripping the locks of his hair. In the heat of the moment, he wasted no time cupping your ass, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

On the short walk back to your hotel, you felt the constant need for him steadily rising and rising to the point you couldn't keep your hands to yourself anymore. It must've been hard for Jaehyun to keep his composure too, as he couldn't resist his urges anymore, kissing you in the elevator as you went up to the floor of your room.

You were both so needy for each other. Your tongues battled for dominance as Jaehyun lead you to the bed, dropping your body on the soft mattress as he towered above you, never breaking the kiss.

Your grip on his hair tightened, and he knew you wanted more. He attached his lips on your neck, pressing soft warm kissed along the sensitive area. He trailed his mouth from under your ear down to your already half-exposed chest and you mentally thanked yourself for choosing to wear a low-cut top. Soft moans escaped your lips as Jaehyun found all your favorite spots to kiss, smirking at the sounds that came out of your mouth.

His lips left your skin and you whined at the lack of his touch. He looked up into your eyes, searching for any type of consent, something that told him you needed him as badly as he needed you.

"What are we even doing?" he chuckled, running his fingers along your cheek.

You smiled at that. "i don't know,," you were honest with him. "But whatever it is, I like it. And I want it. Do you?" you asked him and he nodded quickly, resting his thumb on your lips.

"You have no idea" he said and in a second, his lips crashed with yours as he continued the battle of dominance you had previously started.

Jaehyun kept kissing you everywhere. No spot in your exposed body was left unattended by his soft lips, yet he needed more of you and you needed him in more places too. As if on cue, you arched your back to help him take off your top, followed shortly with an unclasp of your bra, the straps falling down your shoulders as he yanked it away. He immediately buried his face in your chest, sucking one nipple while teasing the other one with his fingers.

With trembling hands due to the pleasure, you loosened Jaehyun's tie, hastily unbuttoning his shirt. He sensed your struggle and detached himself from your boobs to help you get him undressed. Removing his shirt, he revealed his toned body to you, muscles flexing with every single of his movements. You didn't have enough time to fully appreciate his upper body as he dipped back in, not wanting to leave your nipples neglected.

Soft moans and whimpers left your lips as he kept on kissing you down your entire body, trailing your stomach down to your pants. Swiftly pulling the zipper, he slowly removed your pants and underwear, kissing your inner things along the way.

Your body jolted at the cold sensation of your naked core meeting the air in the room, and Jaehyun's mouth was so close to where you needed him the most that the thought alone made you even wetter.

Jaehyun took a step back to fully look at you. His pupils were dilated, eyes filled with nothing but lust and need. "Gosh you're so beautiful" he said in his low voice, a soft grunt escaping him as he unbuckled his belt, pulling down his pants and boxers revealing his own throbbing dick.

You gulped at the sight of his size, but it made you even more curious of how he would feel inside you. Jaehyun lowered himself above you, capturing your lips in a lazy passionate kiss.

"I really wanna take my time with you but I can't wait any longer. Do you think you can take me right now? No prep?" he asked you, the neediness in his eyes and voice so obvious, you could come undone any minute by now.

The truth is, you weren't sure if you could fit all of him inside you. But you needed him. you wanted him. The sooner the better. You couldn't take any more foreplay or teasing even though you'd like it. You just wanted to relase all the tension off your body.

"I can take it. I can take you," you said and you saw Jaehyun's eyes darken at your eager tone. He wasted no time, lining himself between your legs as he grabbed the base of his cock, bringing it to the opening of your folds.

"Are you sure you want this, Y/n?" Jaehyun asked you, waiting for your final answer, the one that would give me the green light to go.

You nodded. "yes, Jaehyun please. I want you right now," you pleaded and it was all that was needed for him to slowly thrust inside you, your velvety walls wrapping around his veiny length as he entered deeper and deeper until he bottomed out inside you, his hips touching yours.

A long moan was heard by both of you at the sensation of your bodies meeting in such an intimate way. "Fuck you're so warm" Jaehyun groaned and you moaned just at the sound he made, his eyes shut as he tried to fully feel you ad you took him all in.

Once you gave him the signal that he could move, he slowly lifted his hips, thrusting his dick in and out of your pussy, earning heavy breaths from you. Your arms searched for anchor at his toned back, digging your fingers in his shoulders as his thrusts grew faster and more eager, trying to get you to moan louder for him.

And it worked. As he kept on reaching spots so deep you never thought anyone could ever reach, Jaehyun kissed down your neck, groaning at the sound of your continuously louder moans, smirking on your skin when he pinched your nipped and you squealed, leaving out a high-pitched scream.

"You're so good at this Jae, you make me feel so good" you said in between moans and the nickname worked like magic for him. His breathing became heavier, burying his head on the crook of your neck as his thrusts became sloppier.

"Fuck you're such a good girl for me, I'm- fuck" Jaehyun's voice was mumbled as he spoke in the mattress, your moaning growing louder and louder.

"Please Jae I wanna cum, it's so good," you whispered, your breathing becoming sharper as he pressed a finger on your clit, rubbing it softly as he angled your hips higher to gain more access inside you. Your legs wrapped tight around his waist as his body was pressed closely on top of you. Jaehyun tried to kiss you, but the burning sensation between your legs kept you moaning inside his mouth, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as you reached closer to your climax.

"Jae I'm- I-" you tried to speak but the pleasure was too much for your brain to properly work.

Jaehyun never stopped nor changed his movements, quickly understanding what you like and what makes you a whimpering mess under him. "Come on baby, cum for me" he groaned as he kept on going, rubbing your clit slightly faster.

Your legs shook around his waist, a loud cry leaving your lips as you came around his cock. Jaehyun kept on going, riding you through your high as he chased his own. Hearing your soft moans, he came not long after you, warm liquid filling you up as your throbbing walls clenched around his length.

The two of you stayed like this for a while. Jaehyun only pulled out of you once his breathing was more steady, and you winced at the sudden emptiness you felt without his body inside you, or even on top of you.

Jaehyun layed for a few more seconds before he got up, searching for his boxers around the room. "I'm gonna get some tissues to clean you up, is that alright baby?" the pet name felt so natural coming from him. It was weird that it didn't really hit you when he said it during sex, but right now it made your stomach twitch.

Jaehyun went to the bathroom and came back holding some tissues. You moved your body towards him and let him clean you up from all the remaining liquids he had spilled on you. You found the gesture adorable, especially when you saw the concentration on his face, trying to leave absolutely no dirty spot on your body.

You thanked him for it and got up to find some clean clothes you could wear to sleep. Jaehyun was too comfortable getting under the bedsheets, laying in your bed as a sign that he would stay the night.

Fishing his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket, he read the time. It was way past midnight by now, and neither of you noticed how quickly time had passed when you had such a great time with each other.

His lips tugged into a playful smile before he spoke. "Look, it's past midnight. Merry Christmas!" he said as you climbed into bed beside him.

You laughed at his enthusiasm and sighed, turning to face him. If you were to tell yourself that you wouldn't spend Christmas with your friends this year but rather with a hot total stranger you came across at a jazz bar, you wouldn't believe it. But now, nuzzling into his chest, hearing the slow and steady beating of his heart, you were content with this turn of events.

You cupped the side of his face and his cheek rested heavy in your palm as he leaned his head to your touch. You pressed a soft peck on his lips, smiling. "Merry Christmas".

* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

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