#adarafaelbarbabirthdaybingo

[cycat-carisi]

Self-Destructive

I’m supposed to be writing a thesis, yet this little drabble hit me like a ton of bricks...so yeah, I’m yeeting it into the Tumblr world! Enjoy? Could fill the “Fresh Start” square in @adarafaelbarba’s birthday bingo!

Summary:  Just a little hurt/comfort drabble with Joe (: Pairing: Joe Velasco x Reader Warnings: language, mentions of domestic abuse, hurt/comfort Words: 806 AO3 here

You are drunk again. A few of your female police officer buddies had joined you for drinks after your shifts. Afterall, it had been a particularly hard day. First, you were called to the scene of a bad accident, then it was followed up with a potential case of assault, and to top it all off, your boss yelled at you for some dumb thing that the alcohol has already made you forget.

Yet another shot is being downed when suddenly he walks in. The sexiest man you have ever seen. Tall, dark and most certainly handsome. Light stubble lines his cheeks and that leather jacket...oh boy, that leather jacket!

"Chiquitita . Time to go home," he speaks in a voice barely audible over the music in the bar.

"Why, hellooo handsome!" you whistle. All your friends' eyes are on you, but you’re too drunk to register their stares.

"Come on," he whispers against your ear.

"Trying to take me home, eh? Well, good lookin', it's a good thing you're so good lookin' because I'm definitely gonna let you take me home!" You stumble a bit, bracing a hand on his firm shoulder.

His find your waist to steady you while, under his breath, the man lets out a curse in Spanish. "I’m your boyfriend, Chiquitita, and it's time to go home now." His voice is stern, dripping with annoyance.

"You're my boyfriend!?! Damn girl, you done goooood!" you give yourself a sloppy pat on the shoulder.

"Please," he begs with those big green eyes. "You do this every time. I dread getting this call but it keeps happening. This has to stop."

You had met Joe Velasco when responding to a call of domestic violence a few years ago. The two of you locked eyes immediately; some kind of electric exchange happening from across the room. He had been the one to ask for your number and there had been no going back since.

A large frown causes your brows to wrinkle but you nonetheless allow Joe to lead you out of the bar. The cool night air feels like a slap to the face, yet it allows you a moment of clarity. "What's the matter with you?!" you demand, perhaps a little too harshly.

"What's the matter with me?" he scoffs, still supporting you in his arms. "You're the one whose friends repeatedly call me to come and get you when you’re drunk out of your mind!"

You add fuel to the argument, exclaiming, "I had a bad day!"

"We all have bad days! But you get completely wasted and…you know how it makes me feel."

"But you knew going into this whole thing that I’m a bit self-destructive!"

"A bit? Come on, please!" Joe rolls his eyes, exasperated.

"I grew up with five brothers! You'd think that after five boys my parents would have wanted a girl.” You sputter out an angry laugh. “Ha! Nope! I was the accident that came out with an X chromosome instead of a Y and they never let me forget it!"

Joe has repeatedly been there for you when it came to how your family treated you, but right now he’s tired of you using it as an excuse for your drinking. "And I had an abusive father,” he rebuts, “who...who would..." There's pain etched across Joe's face as he says the words. "He would drink until there was nothing left, which only made him angrier. That anger had to come out somewhere..."

Your foggy mind immediately flashes to the scars you know litter Joe's back. Suddenly, the guilt hits you like a ton of bricks. "I'm so sorry, babe," you sob out. "I didn't mean to hurt you! I didn't mean to make you think of him. I'm sorry." The tears run freely. Clearly, you are an inconsiderate, self-absorbed asshole to a boyfriend who has been nothing but good to you.

Joe's face softens, his tone lowering to match. "Hey, don't cry, Chiquitita. I'm sorry you had a bad day, but drinking won't make it better. I know my schedule is nuts, but I will always be here for you to talk with. I wish you would turn to me instead of the bar."

You honestly didn't deserve him, yet Joe still made you want to be a better person. "I promise, Joe! I promise to talk. I promise not to drink. I promise to be better to you!" You fling your arms around his middle and squeeze.

It's not a moment later that his arms fully envelope you, pressing you tighter to his chest. You can hear the steady thrum of his heart, beating like a calming melody in the most frightful of storms. "I love you," you murmur against his shirt.

"I love you, too," he whispers into your hair. "Now, let's get you home."

---

Tag list: @plaidbooks @adarafaelbarba  @misscharlielulu @barbasbodaciousbeard @caracalwithchips @averyhotchner @one-sweet-gubler @anlin2058 @katieslotherford @pjkimrn @aynansstuff

I realize it has been an insane amount of time since I last posted, so please let me know if you’d like off/on this list ^^ 

*crawls back under my rock until the next idea needs out of my head*

[adarafaelbarba]

So as mentioned in my previous post about this bingo, my birthday is next month. And for that occasion I wanted to host another bingo! Like my last bingo in October 2021, this one will have moodboards to the squares. You don’t have to use them, but they’re there for inspiration, and can also be used in your fics as a “cover” if you’d like 🥰 I’m gonna have the moodboards up before the bingo starts on Monday 17th of January 😅

here are some rules:

1. It’ll start on January 17th and ends on February 17th at Midnight (Norwegian time)

2. Write one, ten or all of the fics. But don’t feel like you have to write them, this is a fun little writing exercise

3. You can write a head canon, ficlet, multi-chapter (one moodboard/square per fic) or a one shot. But please, if it’s longer than 500 words, put it under read more.

4. The fics can be fluff, smut, angst, etc if you feel like they would fit with the aesthetic of the moodboard you write for. Please remember to tag the fics with the right warnings before posting it.

5. Tag me when you post it, so I can keep tracks of the fics that are posted for this challenge and use the hashtag: #adarafaelbarbabirthdaybingo

6. Characters allowed (reader insert, oc, ships)

SVU:

Rafael Barba

Sonny Carisi

Mike Dodds

Nick Amaro

Peter Stone

Odafin “Fin” Tutuola

Alex Cabot

Casey Novak

Olivia Benson

Amanda Rollins

Rita Calhoun

Kat Tamin

Elizabeth Donnelly

Other Raúl Esparza Characters:

Jackson Neill

Nevada Ramirez

Jonas Nightingale

Bryan Kneef

Frederick Chilton

Paul Mendelsohn

911 / 911 Lone Star:

Evan Buckley

Eddie Diaz

Maddie Buckley

Chimney

Hen Wilson

Bobby Nash

Athena Grant

Owen Strand

T.K. Strand

Grace Ryder

Judd Ryder

Marjan Marwani

Paul Strickland

Carlos Reyes

Tommy Vega

Mayans MC:

Miguel Galindo

Angel Reyes

Ez Reyes

Bishop Losa

Emily Thomas

Coco Cruz

One Chicago:

Matt Casey

Kelly Severide

Brian «Otis» Zvonecek

Joe Cruz

Stella Kidd

Gabby Dawson

Violet Mikami

Sylvie Brett

Emily Foster

Jessica Chilton

Gianna Mackey

Evan Hawkins

Jay Halstead

Antonio Dawson

Adam Ruzek

Kevin Atwater

Erin Lindsay

Hailey Upton

Vanessa Rojas

Sean Roman

Kim Burgess

Connor Rhodes

Ethan Choi

Will Halstead

April Sexton

Crockett Marcel

Jeff Clarke

A Discovery of Witches:

Baldwin Montclair (Trystan and Peter’s version, but specify it 😅)

Matthew de Clermont

Marcus Whitmore

Diana Bishop

Miriam Shepard

Domenico

Sophie Norman

Nathaniel Wilson

Gallowglass

Satu Järvinen

Juliette Durand

Phoebe Taylor

Hamish Osborn

Chris Roberts

Ransome Fayrweather

Outlander:

Ian Murray

Frank Randall

Jamie Fraser

Clair Fraser

Briana Fraser Randall

Roger Mackenzie

Fergus Fraser

Marsali Fraser

Jenny Fraser

Harry Potter/Fantastic Beasts:

Sirius Black

Remus Lupin

James Potter

Newt Scamander

Young Dumbledore

Kingsman:

Eggsy Unwin

Roxy Morton

Harry Hart

Merlin

Charlie Hesketh

Percival

Lancelot / James Spencer

Ginger

Whiskey

Tequila

Characters from the King’s Men

MCU:

Thor Odinson

Steve Rogers / Captain America

Tony Stark / Iron Man

Dr. Bruce Banner / Hulk

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow

Sam Wilson / Falcon / Captain America

Bucky Barnes / Winter Soldier

Dr. Stephen Strange / Dr. Strange

T’Challa / Black panther (rip Chadwick 🥺)

Shaun / Shang-Chi

Xialing

Wenwu

Wong

Peter Parker / Spiderman (Tom, Toby or Andrew. But specify it 😅)

Clint Barton / Hawkeye

Wade Wilson / Deadpool

Scott Lang (Ant-Man)

Carol Danvers / Captain Marvel

Baron Helmut Zemo

Yelena Belova

Monica Rambeau

Wanda Maximoff / Scarlet Witch

Pietro Maximoff / Quicksilver

Charles Xavier / Professor X

Erik Lehnsherr / Magneto

Druig

Makkari

Dane

Thena

Sersi

Ikaris

Ajak

Gilgamesh

Kingo

Phastos

Note: If there’s a character/fadom not listed, feel free to DM me.

7. No RPF/real person fic. No underage character (includes reader/ocs)

8. Please signal boost this post, regardless if you participate or not

9. Most important! Have fun! 🥰 Feel free to dm me with any questions or concerns

[plaidbooks]

A Normal Day

A/N: Hey y’all! A happiest of birthdays to the wonderful, beautiful, and amazing @witches-unruly-heart ! I hope you have just the best day ❤ Here’s a Sonny x reader that covers the Birthday square in @adarafaelbarba bingo!

Tags: none, just fluff

Words: 1046

Taglist: @thatesqcrush  @beccabarba  @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy  @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl  @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @beardsanddetectives  @reading--mermaid  @averyhotchner  @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

“Sonny? We need to have a talk, babe,” you called to your boyfriend. Currently, you were lying in bed, propped up against the headboard and book in your hand.

Sonny poked his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush still in his mouth. “Yeah?” he asked, slightly muffled.

“Oh my god—finish brushing your teeth, then come talk to me,” you said, smiling and rolling your eyes.

The corners of his mouth twitched up before he nodded and went back into the bathroom. You heard the sink turn on, heard him spit and rinse his mouth, then he came to bed, clad only in a pair of loose sweats.

“What’s on your mind, doll?” he asked while pulling the sheets back. He climbed in next to you, leaning against the headboard close enough that your shoulders brushed.

You placed your book on the nightstand and turned to face him. “I know you know it’s my birthday tomorrow…” you started, and he grinned, nodding in excitement, “but I don’t want you doing anything special for me, understand?”

His brow furrowed. “But doll—”

“It’s just a Thursday, babe. I have work in the morning, then class afterwards. I don’t want you delivering anything, okay?” You took his hands, looking at him with pleading eyes. “I just want a normal day, where I get to come home to my wonderful boyfriend and just relax. Please.”

His eyes held yours for a moment, searching, before he finally said, “yeah, okay. No birthday cupcakes showin’ up at work, then…or flowers in class.”

“Thank you, Sonny. I just want to have a normal day.”

“I can do normal,” he promised. He leaned in to give you a gentle, minty kiss, and you chuckled at the taste of toothpaste.

 ****************

Though you asked for normal, there was no stopping Sonny from getting up early in the morning and cooking you breakfast. You internally sighed, knowing that he couldn’t do nothing for your birthday—you thought that doing nothing may actually kill him.

So, instead, you thanked him and ate your breakfast, which was, of course, amazing. He gave you a sweet kiss before going to get dressed; he had work today, too. You scarfed down your food, watching the clock to make sure you weren’t late for work.

Breakfast done and bookbag on your shoulder, you kissed Sonny goodbye before rushing out the door, Sonny right behind you—he normally worked early, too.

 ****************

The day was long and exhausting; you got so caught up in both your work and studies that it was easy to forget you were turning a year older. And Sonny thankfully didn’t send anything. Maybe—if you were lucky—you could get home first and make him dinner as a thank you; it’d be the only way you could make him dinner on your birthday.

After your last class ended, you dragged yourself home, exhausted. Maybe you wouldn’t make Sonny dinner tonight. Hell, you’d be lucky to stay up late enough for him to get home.

You fumbled with your keys, then finally put the correct one in and unlocked the apartment door. Sounds and smells instantly assaulted your senses, and you scrunched your face in confusion. You crossed the threshold, softly closing the door behind you, and looked around.

The apartment had been decorated in your favorite colors, with streamers and confetti covering the surfaces. A fresh bouquet of bright, Spring-y flowers had been arranged tastefully in a very ornate vase and stood atop a fancy tablecloth. There were a variety of beautiful candles burning on the table, giving off a soft scent of flowers to help boost the bouquet.

You sniffed appreciatively; underneath the floral scents, it smelt like your favorite foods were sizzling in the kitchen. You wandered over to the dining table, looking over the dishes that had been dubbed “fine china” by Sonny. After looking your fill, you wandered to the kitchen.

Sonny had on slacks and a white tshirt, his signature black apron thrown on top and tied behind him. You had a moment to watch him flit about the kitchen: flipping, stirring, sautéing, and taste testing things. He jumped to the freezer, scooping ice into a metal tin, then flipped to the fridge. He pulled out what looked to be a pricey bottle of white wine and pushed it into the ice-filled tin.

Before you could move, he whipped around—intending to put the wine on the table—and froze when he saw you standing in the doorway.

“Shit doll! How long have ya been home?” Sonny asked, coming over to you and pulling you in for a quick kiss.

As you pulled away, you looked at him with wide eyes. “A minute or two—Sonny, how did you have time for all this?”

He smiled a bit sheepishly, stepping around you to put the wine tin on a little tray on the table—to keep the tablecloth dry. “I…may have lied this morning…I took today off work, so I could surprise ya—”

“I thought I said I wanted a normal day,” you replied, crossing your arms playfully. You couldn’t be mad, not after seeing all the trouble he went through for you.

He sighed, his shoulders drooping. “I know, I know—but see, I requested today off weeks ago; before ya asked for normal! And sure, I could’a gone in, but why? I figured a quiet dinner at home, maybe a massage afterwards…that’s normal, still, right?”

He sounded so hopeful, not wanting to disrespect your wishes, but also wanting to do something special for you, that you gave him a soft smile. “That sounds wonderful, babe.”

Sonny grinned wide, pulling you in for another, deeper kiss. If there was one thing Sonny was, it was selfless—which sometimes got him into trouble. But he was trying to be better, for you. You remembered the spectacle on your birthday last year and shuddered—definitely better this time.

With one last kiss, Sonny headed back into the kitchen to put the finishing touches on dinner. But the real surprise would be dessert—Sonny had handmade an assortment of cannoli, spelling out “MARRY ME?” with a ring as the dot on the question mark. Now if only he could keep you awake throughout dinner.

[thatesqcrush]

Private Show

Rafael Barba x gn reader. For my challenge: cuddling. Also @adarafaelbarba bday celebration- picnic. CW: none, just some kissing. WC: 715

Rafael Barba watched you from the back porch of your shared home in Brooklyn. It was a much needed day off for the two of you – you both had worked to the bone on a tough case. Summer had arrived and it was particularly hot out. You had suggested enjoying the yard that came with the house after being cooped up after a rough winter and rainy spring. You both decided to order from the local delicatessen and have a picnic outside. You both enjoyed the good food and each other’s company. It had been far too long that you both had the day off together.

There had been many hot trails that had quickly fizzled out. On hour you can’t even remember, you had unknowingly stumbled onto a piece of evidence that broke the case wide open. In the end, it was yet another victory for the SVU and the DA’s office.

Rafael had originally gone back inside to bring in the picnic leftovers and to grab another scotch. However, as he made his way back outside, he suddenly found himself transfixed with the scene in front of him.

As the hammock rocked slowly, back and forth, you reached cautiously into the tall glass of lemonade that you had in your hand and grabbed a piece of ice. He gulped hard as he watched you take the frozen cube and run it over your forehead in an attempt to cool yourself. The ice quickly left a trail as you moved it further along your neck. He debated on interrupting you or to continue watching.

He chose to not to interrupt you.

Due primarily to the way you had laid down originally but also to the style of the shirt you wore, your abdomen was exposed. Rafael took a large gulp of his drink as his pulse began to race as you continued your actions. The muscles under your skin flitted as you ran what was left of the ice cube down your skin.

You dropped your hand to the side as the small portion of the ice cube settled on to your navel, and finished melting.

Rafael couldn't help but think it was one of the most erotic things he had ever seen in his life. It was one of the things he admired about you – you made even the minutest action to be incredibly sexy.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch or are you going to join me?" You called out.

He smirked at your comment, "After that show, how could I not?"

You slowly turned your head to gaze at Rafael. Brightly smiling, you beckoned him over. He couldn't help but follow your command. He moved to lie next to you, and pulled you close to him, your legs now tangling within each others.

You snuggled into his embrace, but not before reaching up to cup a bearded cheek. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, and he responded by moving so he could properly kiss you. You grew dizzy and you weren’t sure if it was the result of the heat or the movement of his lips on yours or possibly a combination of both.

You flicked your tongue over his lips and heard a low rumble emanate from deep within. Rafael’s arms wrapped around you, in an effort to pull you on top of him. His lips explored yours slowly, teasing of the events to come. You inhaled Rafael’s scent – a mixture of his cologne and something that naturally belonged to him. His hands became tangled in your hair, as you two continued to kiss.

Naturally, they became less and less aware of their surroundings. Birds continued to chirp, a siren wailed not far off in the distance; the sound of children playing nearby could be heard. However, all was lost in the passion that was consuming them at the moment.

You finally managed to force yourself to take a much needed breath of oxygen. Rafael’s green eyes probed yours, as he lazily ran his hands down your shoulders.

"Perhaps, we should move this show inside,” Rafael suggested, his voice husky. You shivered as he traced the line of your jaw with his lips.

You leaned down to place a quick kiss on his lips. "Mm, that sounds like a wonderful idea."

And with that said, the two of you made your way off the hammock and into the house, leaving the busy world behind without so much of an afterthought.

FIN.

-

Tags: @mgarner1227 @madpanda75 @teamsladsandgents @storiesofsvu @detectivebarba @beccabarba @melk917 @zoeykaytesmom @itsjustmyfantasyroom @adarafaelbarba @witches-unruly-heart @mrsrafaelbarba @sass-and-suspenders @neely1177 @dreamlover31 @a-brignac @prurientpuddlejumper @detective-giggles @mommakat32 @greeneyedblondie44 @bananas-pajamas @pieceofshittytitty @alwaysachorusgirl @bisexual-dreamer02 @blueberryt @i-justreally-like-cats-okay @averyhotchner @law-nerd105 @qvid-pro-qvo @its-just-me-chey @amelia-song-pond @tintinxtintin @chasingeverybreakingwave @jazzyjoi @rachelxwarren @garturbo @rampantmuses @whatisthislife28 @ottosuricato @berniesilvas @whoamelinda @emandems10 @youreverycolor

[adowbaldwin]

Oh look, its the cruise ship of ships: Baldwenico

Adarafaelbarbabirthdaybingo

'Break-up / Make-up’

" part 1 "

No one really understood their relationship, never ones for affection in public view and they very much still behaved like they were enemies. On some level they always would be, but now they just had sex? It worked for them, honestly. They were happier in their own little bubble, not giving in to the prying looks of others. It was none of their business. They liked the idea of people thinking they were an odd couple. 

Shock was one word to cover the families reaction, and Matthew was not the only who fainted when hearing the news. The most shocked and hurt was Fernando however. He had been shunned from the family, ousted by Philippe and now his favoured son had mated with Domenico? Baldwin hadn't been as outspoken about his disdain for his and Hugh's relationship, but he wasn't one for keeping his opinions to himself either. He made it known clearly that he did not approve. It left a sour taste in his mouth, every time he was around Baldwin and especially if Domenico was there

"You're glowering Fernando" Baldwin hadn't bothered to put down his book, speaking over the top of it "speak your peace or you'll ruin Christmas for the twins"

It was almost midnight, Christmas Eve and those still awake were in the Chateau "im not glowering" his jaw popped as he so tightly ground it together

Matthew knew, and understood his anguish. Forever oblivious and uncaring of others feelings it was moments like these that made him hate Baldwin more "leave it brother or you will ruin Christmas" he edged off his chair, ready to defend his friend

A firm hand came to wrap around his arm "don’t" Fernando warned him against it, too tired to fight

Baldwin sighed, placing his book on the shelf next to him "this is about Domenico and I, isn’t it?" The tight line Fernando's lips drew into, the prominent vein in his neck popping confirmed his suspicions "answer me one thing, do you honestly believe a man that spent his entire life building a political career during one of the most lethal periods of unrest would risk it all, his life and his reputation simply just to win favour with us?"

Fernando sat contemplating "you mean to say you have been carrying on all this time?"

Baldwin laughed, a patronising chuckle "you believe Father would allow such things of another son? Handicapping his political ambition?" He scoffed "don't be so simple"

"So Phillipe stopped you from mating" Matthew pressed

"No" a page turned in silence, all eagerly awaiting an answer "just under no certain terms was I to involve myself in a relationship that would, and I quote, damn this family further then what Hugh had already done" he cleared his throat "and if I did, said person would be dealt with through means of a blood raged Matthew. Which then, as you will all remember, is significantly more horrific then the civilized man we know"

Matthew crossed his brows "so he did stop you from mating?"

He shook his head in disagreement "The exceptions were of course Princesses and daughters of Aristocrats"

"And those you had plenty" Domenico jibed

"Yes" Baldwin turned his head to him with a raised eyebrow, the small gesture holding accusation "How long did you court my sister for?"

Marcus sucked in a breathe through his teeth "Is it hot in here or just me?"

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

Silence fell as they retreated to Baldwins tower, him simmering in his own anger and Domenico praying he isn't feeling overdramatic this night (hint: he was)

“what was she like” Baldwin ripped his tie off, shoes messily flung about the room. if there was one thing you had to know about the man, is that if his clothes were scattered messily then either a person or city were in for some destruction.

Domenico groaned “Do we have to discuss this” he tried to pull him in, but the bastard evaded his touch “Its Christmas for fuck sake” Domenico hadn't anticipated a lot of things about this man, but his horrific jealous streak was a complete shock.

“who is better in bed?” He narrowed his eyes, buttons popping on his shirt 

“I’m ignoring you” Domenico made a fuss of undressing, loudly slamming draws as he fished out some grey jogging bottoms to sleep in. Two can play at being a cunt

“what on Earth do you think you are doing?” Baldwin was annoyed. True, it was his fault for brining up the past but he was nether the less annoyed. And now Domenico wanted to deprive him of dick? No. absolutely not.

“I am going to bed” he made a point of curling into his side of the bed, body practically falling off of the edge 

“Fine” Baldwin hissed, matching his childish-ness and wearing bottoms to bed “fuck you”

Domenico scoffed “not until next year if you keep behaving like a jealous maniac”

Baldwin growled, switched off the bed side light and turned over. The two of them were so far apart they might as well have been on two different continents. 

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

"Are you really upset over Louisa?” Domenico tried to meet his eyeline, Baldwin was failing at fixing his tie. Something wasn’t right with it “For God sake come here”

“No” he snapped, trying to worm away from his touch. He had half a mind to pout when the Venetian cunt fixed whatever was wrong with it “I’m not saying thankyou”

Domenico snaked his arm around his waist, pulling Baldwins back into his front and kissed his cheek “did you ever consider there was nothing wrong with the tie, just your mood”

Baldwin scowled into the mirror. He still hated this, the constant need he had bottled deep within for the man “sorry” he grumbled 

Domenico’s lips quirked up into a smile “what was that? I did not hear you properly”

He felt shy then, and timid. He really fucking hated that “fuck off”  

“Not before you kiss me good morning. it is our first Christmas together” Domenico not only had snaked his way into his life, but had also managed somehow to manoeuvre his way around him so they were now face to face 

“You are a bastard” he pressed their lips together, one hand wandering to cup his cheek “Happy Christmas”

Domenico peppered kisses over his jaw “i do wonder” he whispered in between “how long we have until someone notices we haven’t surfaced yet”

Baldwin had already jostled his belt to the floor, making quick work of Domenico’s trousers “long enough” he smirked “I do adore making up after an argument”

[butternuggets-blog]

Passing Ships Prompt

~Angst/Whump~

~New Baldwin/Male OC, Miyako~

For adarafaelbarba’s birthday bingo :)

‘Well, well, well’

Baldwin looked up from the financial times as a figure loomed over him, blocking out the morning sun.

‘Martin. Couldn’t afford a ticket on the Titanic?’

Martin grinned and sat down on the deckchair beside his.

‘Didn’t want a ticket. Everyone who is anyone will be there, but I prefer the Carpathia. Less of a crowd.’

‘Hmm’

‘Speaking of..’ Martin glanced quizzically at Baldwin. ‘What are you doing here? Couldn’t you afford a ticket?’

‘They were booked out’ Baldwin kept his eyes focussed on his newspaper. Martin started grinning.

‘You did get tickets, didn’t you?’

Martin chuckled to himself.

‘What happened? Did you lose a bet?’

Baldwin said nothing. Martin cackled.

‘That’s it, isn’t it, you lost a bet! Who to?’

‘Miyako’

‘...playing?’

Baldwin bit down on his tongue and tried unsuccessfully to cram the words back down his throat.

‘...rock, paper, scissors’

Martin started howling. He was laughing so loud that some of the crowd around them began giving them strange looks.

Baldwin hit Martin across the face with his newspaper.

________________________________________________________________

Something was happening. Baldwin stood stock-still, listening intently to the sound of pounding feet and raised, muffled voices echoing down from three decks above.

Knock-KNOCK

The steward at the door was straight-faced and professional, but Baldwin could hear his heart beating wildly in his chest. A thin line of sweat was beading the edge of his scalp.

‘The captain would like to apologise for the inconvenience but all passengers must vacate their rooms and adjourn to the dining rooms immediately’

‘Is everything alright?’

‘Carpathia is functioning perfectly, sir, however there is an urgent announcement which the captain will be making presently. If you would please follow the rest of the passengers up to the dining rooms’ the young man gestured towards the end of the corridor, his fingers trembling.

Baldwin grabbed his coat and walked swiftly out the door. There was already a steady stream of confused and sleepy-eyed passengers shambling along the hallway; stewards were frog-marching around them like nervous guardsmen, occasionally knocking on various cabin doors.

Baldwin spotted a familiar face in the crowd and eased his way through, next to Martin.

‘What’s happening?’

Martin shrugged.

‘I have no idea.’

He gave Baldwin a quick pat on the shoulder.

‘I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough’

They filed into the dining rooms, keeping a hand on each others’ jacket so they didn’t get separated. The conversation bubbling around them grew more fevered as passengers questioned each other, speculating and theorizing until the rumour-mill threatened to tip into hysteria.

‘May I have you attention please! Your attention, please!’ Captain Rostron stood on the bandstand, his hands clasped in front of him, a sombre expression on his face. As the nervous chatter died down, he cleared his throat.

‘I regret to inform you all that we have received a distress signal from RMS Titanic. The ship has been struck by an iceberg-’

Baldwin’s stomach dropped to his shoes. He blinked, swaying.

...struck by an iceberg..

The shrieks and cries of the crowd around transformed into the shrill, tortured sound of ice tearing through steel. Water rushing through the gap, pouring into rooms meant to be two or three storeys above the water line. Faceless people floating in a lifeless collage of destruction.

...Miyako, wide eyes staring up at him, her blue lips parted in a question while her hair tangled up above her head...

‘Lucius’ Martin’s hand was on the crook of his left elbow, squeezing firmly. Baldwin drew a shaky breath. 

‘-and we are bound by maritime law to lend them assistance’ Captain Rostron continued, loudly, hand raised to try and placate the frantic crowd. He gestured to the stewards who had formed a line beside him to his right.

‘In anticipation of our arrival, the staff will be setting up the dining rooms as makeshift hospital wards. We ask that any personages aboard with medical knowledge, especially doctors, please volunteer your services. Those wishing to do so please go to the first class dining room, and you will be assigned a station from there.’

‘To anyone else wishing to assist us in any way, there are segmented lists of jobs in the third class dining room which you may sign up for. Meanwhile-’ he gestured towards several tables which had been pushed together along one wall. ‘-anyone wishing to serve as a lookout for survivors or to volunteer for the lifeboats will please sign up over there. With decorum, please, ladies and gentlemen.’

Miniature stampede averted, the crowd began dispersing in several different directions at once as people rushed off eagerly to volunteer. Baldwin stood rooted to the spot, panic and disbelief warring with indecision.

‘Lifeboats’ Martin muttered, squeezing his arm again.

Baldwin snapped back to reality. Lifeboats. Yes. Miyako...

He shook his head, trying to clear it. Focus. You have a job to do.

________________________________________________________________

They signed up to look for survivors when the ship eventually reached the ice field, and spent the rest of their time until then ferrying bedding back and forth between dining rooms, making hot drinks in the galley and watching out for icebergs from the observation deck.

‘She’ll be alright’ Martin said, quietly.

Baldwin shivered and pulled his coat tighter around him. It was freezing out here and he was dry; he tried not imagine what it would be like in the water.

‘She’s strong. And stubborn.’

Baldwin kept his eyes fixed on the horizon. Martin silently handed him the pair of binoculars he had brought with him.

No icebergs. For now.

The ship shuddered beneath them, picking up another knot. Every steam pipe had been turned off, and all the extra power was being diverted back into the engines.

‘Sixteen and a half.’

Martin nodded.

‘Impressive. Carpathia’s top speed is fourteen knots; I’m surprised the engines are taking the strain so well’

Baldwin wrapped the leather strap of the binoculars around his hand and squeezed them.

‘I..I just need to know that she’s safe’

________________________________________________________________

By the time the Carpathia finally reached the edge of the ice field it had been just over three hours since they had received the initial distress signal and Baldwin was about to throw up from sheer nerves.

He helped the crew raise the first of the lifeboats out of the water when the first cries for help went up. He scanned the boats’ occupants feverishly but no one matched Miyako, and the knot in his stomach grew tighter with each passing minute.

‘Gentlemen, it’s time’

Baldwin tried to stop his hands from shaking as he climbed into the lifeboat. The steward operating the crane nodded to them, and released them slowly down into the water.

‘I’ll row, and you keep watch’ Martin took up the oars and began to propel them slowly forward.

The young man clinging to his lifejacket died on the way back to the ship. So did the elderly man in the pinstripe pyjamas, and the young couple who had tied themselves together with their belts.

But a different young man survived, stuttering his thanks through chapped, blue lips. And a different elderly man, and a different young couple, and a young woman with strawberry-blonde hair wearing a long overcoat.

Shadows in the water reformed into chunks of ice and other things. Baldwin had to stop himself leaning too far out into the darkness; the boat shifted dangerously beneath them as he held up a lantern and peered around.

No black hair. Not yet.

Martin said nothing, keeping his focus on rowing and hauling survivors up out of the water. He couldn’t afford a lapse in concentration; if they overshot anyone they might expire by the time the boat got turned around, and there were still chunks of ice and other debris floating on the surface.

One such thing was floating towards them now; a wooden desk, half floating, half sinking below. Baldwin’s nose twitched at a familiar scent; a dark shadow draped across the side of the desk raised its’ head.

‘Miyako!’

‘No!’ Martin grabbed the back of Baldwin’s jacket to stop him leaping into the water. ‘We’ll make it to her, just wait!’

He hauled the oars with renewed vigour, Baldwin rocking anxiously at the prow. As the boat pulled up beside Miyako he was already leaning down, reaching out to grasp his daughter and pluck her up out of the water.

He rubbed her back and kissed her hair, trying and failing to hold back his tears of relief. Martin wrapped them both in the blanket they had brought with them and, smiling, rowed back to the Carpathia.

Miyako tried to speak but all she could manage was a hoarse, whisper-thin rattle. Baldwin shushed her, carding his fingers hair.

‘It’s alright. Daddy’s here’  

[plaidbooks]

Sparring

A/N: This is a fic that’s been on the back burner forever--I wrote it before, hated it, and deleted it. But finally, it’s here. It’s a Mike x reader fic, and covers the Sparring square in @adarafaelbarba​ birthday bingo!

Tags: rough p in v sex, no talks beforehand on condom use (talk to your partners, friends)

Words: 1117

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart​  @beccabarba​  @thatesqcrush​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @permanentlydizzy​ @ben-c-group-therapy​  @infiniteoddball​ @glowingmess​ @whimsicallymad​ @lv7867​ @storiesofsvu​ @cycat4077​ @alwaysachorusgirl​  @glimmerglittergirl​ @joanofarkansass​  @caracalwithchips​ @beardsanddetectives​  @qvid-pro-qvo​  @averyhotchner​ @imalostredheadinablondeworld​

“Come on, Dodds—I know you have more left in the tank,” you said, ignoring your own sweat and sore muscles.

You and Mike had been sparring buddies for as long as you could remember; you both pushed each other to do better, go harder, and today was no different. He had texted you for an emergency session after a rough day at work. When you found him already at the gym, pacing around with sweat already coating his skin, you knew it was bad.

Sure enough, the first bout of fighting had him throwing harder punches than normal. But he was also sloppier, and you were able to get hits on him that he normally blocked. You both were there for hours, and the gym eventually closed—you had a spare key, since the owner was a close friend and didn’t mind you there.

“I can feel the energy still in me,” Mike grunted, “I just can’t access it. I—I want to run, to punch and scream, but my body isn’t responding how I want it to.”

You straightened out of your defensive stance. “Maybe you should hit the showers, then. Your body is obviously too tired, even if your mind is racing.”

“No, I need this, want this. I just—I need to stop the voices in my head—come on, one more round—”

“Michael,” you said softly. “Sparring until your body collapses won’t help your mental health. What you need is a mental exercise, not a physical one.”

He scoffed, settling into his stance. “One more. Please.”

“It’s not healthy for you—”

“Just the one.”

“Mike, come on—hit the showers,” you tried again, but he didn’t relax his body. He took a step towards you, then another, and you had to block when he swung at you. You sighed angrily; fine, if he didn’t want to stop, you’d make him stop.

It took only three moves before you had him flat on his back, your hands pinning his by his head. You were straddling his massive frame, both of you breathing hard.

“Enough, Mike,” you said down to him. “You need to stop.”

He let out a frustrated growl, baring his teeth up at you. The sight should’ve either terrified or annoyed you, but it did neither. In fact, you felt a wave of arousal course through you. Mike’s big, strong body was pinned underneath you, his skin slick from a sheen of sweat. You could feel his muscles against your inner thighs, moving underneath his skin as he shifted.

Something must’ve shown in your expression, because you could feel something grow, poking you in the lower back. You shifted down until you were straddling his waist, then grinded down on his erection. Mike let out a hiss through his teeth, and all rational thought left your brain.

You leaned down to kiss him hungrily, letting go of his wrists to clutch at his shoulders. Once freed, he gripped you, rolling you over onto your back, his weight settling on top of you. One hand grabbed your workout shorts and ripped them down your legs before flinging them somewhere behind him.

You were too lost in the greedy kisses to notice when he pulled his own shorts down. At least, until he moved your panties to the side and pushed inside you, his considerable size stretching your unprepped walls. You hissed in pain that quickly turned to pleasure as he shallowly thrusted until he was in to the hilt.

Once you settled around him, whimpering and bucking your hips for more, he started to move. It was rough, animalistic as he fucked you, all the pent-up rage and stress from his day being taken out on you.

You moaned loudly as he pounded you, the back of your arms and butt being scrapped raw on the rough mat. As if sensing your discomfort, Mike wrapped his arms around you, lifting you from the mat and cradling you tightly to his chest. You reached up to scratch at his back, and he moved faster, harder, making you gasp.

Eventually, you wedged a hand between your bodies, rubbing at your clit. Your legs started to tremble, and he moved impossibly faster, desperate for his own release. The pressure built inside your belly until you were crying out Mike’s name, body tensing in his hold.

He continued using your body for his own needs, his hips slamming against yours almost painfully. Once his hips started to falter, he leaned down, biting your shoulder hard enough to bruise. You gasped and he let out a muffled groan, his hot release coating your insides. He continued to move, thrusting his seed in deeper until he began to soften.

You both laid there for a while, trying to regain control of yourselves. Finally, Mike pulled off you, and you whimpered at the emptiness as he slipped out of you. He was blushing, avoiding eye contact as he pulled his shorts back up. You sat up, and he held a hand out to you, and you took it. He lifted you easily to your feet, and you swayed on jelly legs.

“I—I’m sorry—I don’t know—sorry,” he mumbled, still not looking at you.

You smiled sheepishly, readjusting your underwear. “Hey, I wasn’t exactly saying no,” you replied. In fact, you wanted him again—he had felt so good inside of you, his body crushing you to the mat.

“We—I should’ve asked first…. And then I didn’t use a condom, and…. I’ll buy the Plan B, if you want. But I’m also clean—I got checked after my last partner—”

“Mike,” you said, stopping his rambling. You placed one hand on his shoulder, the other cupping his cheek. “I didn’t say no—in fact, I liked it. A lot. And if it makes you feel better, I’m clean, too, and I have an IUD. No damage done.”

His eyes flickered to the ceiling. “Except to our friendship.”

Your shoulders slumped slightly. “I’m willing to just stay friends if you wanted…. Or we can try for something…more?”

He looked at you then, eyes scanning your face. “Are you sure?” he breathed. “About something more?”

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Mike—I just never thought that you’d go for me—” You were cut off when he kissed you deeply, tongue in your mouth. You froze for the briefest moment before melting against him, kissing him back just as fiercely.

“Shower?” he whispered against your lips.

You snuck another kiss, smiling softly. “Let me grab my shorts first, wherever you threw them.” He chuckled, pulling you to the edge of the ring with him.

[plaidbooks]

Almost Valentine’s Date

A/N: Here’s just another cute little thought I had for Sonny x reader - I love writing Sonny as just the most understanding, loving, supportive guy. Covers the Medical Examiner square in @adarafaelbarba​ birthday bingo!

Tags: talks about death/bodies

Words: 1426

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart​ @beccabarba​ @thatesqcrush​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @permanentlydizzy​  @ben-c-group-therapy​ @infiniteoddball​ @glowingmess​ @whimsicallymad​ @lv7867​  @storiesofsvu​ @cycat4077​ @alwaysachorusgirl​ @glimmerglittergirl​ @joanofarkansass​  @caracalwithchips​ @beardsanddetectives​  @reading--mermaid​  @averyhotchner​  @mrsrafaelbarba​ @detective-giggles​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @dreamlover31​

You were just finishing writing up one report when Dr. Melinda Warner came up to you.

“Bad news; we just got in five more bodies,” she announced, handing you files.

You sighed, knowing what that meant. “We’re not going to have a day off anytime soon, are we?”

“I’m afraid not. I know you requested February 14th off to spend with your fiancé, but if we’re not caught up by then, I’m going to have to decline it,” she answered.

Nodding and suppressing the urge to sigh again, you went back to your computer screen. Manhattan Homicide was currently working on a serial killer’s profile, and they needed to simultaneously eliminate victims that looked similar as well as confirm how many were killed the same way. You’d break the news to Sonny on your break.

 ********************

Having Valentine’s Day off wasn’t the make or break of your relationship, but Sonny was a romantic, and he had plans for the day. In fact, since February 1st, he’s been leaving a single flower for you to find within the house, with a vase to deposit them into. His plan was for a nice, quiet dinner in, and the assembled bouquet—a baker’s dozen of random, yet complementary flowers—would be the centerpiece.

But today was the 8th, and with how busy you were, you highly doubted you’d be off. In fact, you’d been working double and sometimes triple shifts. You hardly even saw Sonny anymore, either leaving each other love notes or cute texts in lieu of physical touch.

Looking at the file Dr. Warner just left you, you figured you wouldn’t be home until the wee hours of the morning tonight, either. Unable to stop your sigh, you got to work.

 ********************

On the morning of the 13th, you got up, showered, and sleepily got ready for work. You had only slept for eight hours in the last two days, and it was starting to wear on you. But the sight of a bright yellow sunflower on your pillow when you dressed made you smile.

“Good morning, my love,” Sonny greeted you, handing you your to-go mug, already filled with coffee.

You smiled softly at the gesture. “Morning, Sonny. Thank you for this.” You held the mug up for reference, then went to put the sunflower into the now full vase. He grinned as you rearranged the bouquet.

“I figured ya needed it,” his smile faded slightly, “ya sure you can’t stay home tomorrow? You’ve been workin’ so hard—”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’d love to spend Valentine’s with you, but at the rate we’re going, I should be home for dinner. And Dr. Warner was nice enough to give me the 15th off instead—I’m sorry we couldn’t get it all done before tomorrow—”

“Nuh uh, no apologies,” he said, cutting you off. “You’re already workin’ yourself ta death. Any harder, and you’d be one of those bodies you’re examining.”

You chuckled, even with the morbid thought. “Okay, I gotta run if I want to make it to dinner tomorrow night,” you said. You snuck a quick kiss from Sonny before heading out the door.

 *******************

In your desperate attempt to have Valentine’s dinner off, you worked throughout the night. You slept in the little break room, taking little 20-minute catnaps before getting back to it.

When you waved goodnight to Dr. Warner, who miraculously gave you the 16th off, as well (unless an emergency came in), you happily headed for home. But the closer you got to your shared house, the more you realized you weren’t awake enough for dinner.

You internally groaned, promising to yourself that you’d hide your exhaustion; Sonny had spent a long time arranging this dinner, and you felt terrible not seeing your fiancé, even though all you’ve wanted for the past few weeks was to cuddle with him in bed.

When you made it home, you plastered a wide smile on your face. The smile became genuine when you entered, though; Sonny had made the most perfect candlelit dinner atmosphere. There were rose petals over every surface, the scent heavenly. The table was set, with your bouquet settled neatly in the center. And the most amazing smells were emanating from the kitchen. You walked on phantom feet towards the smell—you couldn’t remember the last time you sat down for a homecooked meal.

Sonny had heard the front door close and came out to greet you. He was in an undershirt—he often was when cooking—but quickly grabbed his nice shirt from the back of a chair and hastily pulled it on, his fingers effortlessly buttoning it closed. His hair was perfectly smoothed back, not a strand out of place. And when he wrapped you up in his arms, you could smell your favorite cologne on him.

“Welcome home, my love,” he muttered into your ear, kissing the spot underneath before working his way to your lips.

You melted in his embrace, your eyes closing happily. “Heeeeey Sonny,” you drawled out. In your mind, you sounded perfectly lucid, but Sonny leaned back to look at you.

He gave you the softest of smiles before saying, “you wanna go ta bed, don’t ya?”

“Whaaaaa? Noooo, I wan di’er with youuuuu,” you replied. Your voice was slurring badly, and it was getting hard to think straight.

Sonny gave you another quick kiss before letting you go. You swayed gently and gave him a sleepy smile, eyelids fluttering. “You’re dead on your feet, doll. Come on, let’s get you in bed. I’ll wrap up dinner and meet ya there.”

“But Sooooooonnyyyyy!” you whined.

He was having none of it, though. With a gentle push to your lower back, he had you trotting off to the bedroom. It only hit you as you were undressing that you had been awake for over 24 hours…not counting two little naps throughout the day. You grunted as you pulled off your scrubs, throwing them in your hamper—a separate hamper from Sonny’s nicer clothes.

You left your panties on, and you picked up one of Sonny’s old Islanders tshirts. You shrugged it on, sighing in content at the familiar fabric. And then you stood in the middle of the bedroom, swaying on your feet and eyes mostly closed as you listened to Sonny move about the house. Normally, you showered after working in the morgue all day, the smell of cleaner and disinfectant strong in your nose, but you were afraid of hurting yourself in your sleep-deprived state.

By the time he finally joined you—dinner put away and the house locked up; he was leaving the decorations up so you could potentially have your date night tomorrow instead—you had lost track of time.

“Doll? What are ya doin’ standing there?” he asked as he came into the bedroom. His voice was full of concern, and he rushed over to you, hands on your elbows. He started guiding you towards the bed, but you stopped him.

“Waitin’…fer youuu,” you muttered. “Wanna sleep with youuuu.”

He smiled softly, but that concerned pinch of his brow didn’t quite go away. “I’m just gonna undress, get this gel outta my hair, then I’ll be right there beside ya,” he muttered before kissing your nose. He sat you down on the mattress, and you made no move to lay down fully.

Sonny hurried through his nightly routine, stripping down to his boxers while brushing his teeth. He ran the shower head, dunking his hair under the spray and quickly—messily—scrubbed the gel out.

He came back to the bed to find you still sitting on the mattress, though leaning heavily against the headboard. He shook his head at the sight, a small smile on his face.

“Hey there, love,” he said softly, as if to a child. “I’m here now…. Let’s lay ya down, get ya nice and tucked in.”

Sonny helped you to lay on the mattress, then tucked you in comfortably. He leaned down to kiss your forehead before heading around the mattress and climbing into bed next to you. You were already floating between awake and asleep as he wrapped around you, cuddling you close to his chest.

“Good night, my love. Happy Valentine’s day; I love ya more every day. And I promise ta make ya breakfast in bed tomorrow morning,” he whispered into your ear, kissing your neck periodically.

You hummed in acknowledgement, too tired to make your mouth move. And before you knew it, you were asleep, nestled comfortably in Sonny’s arms.

[thatesqcrush]

To the Victor, Belong the Spoils

Rafael Barba x GN! Reader, Rafael Barba x Yelina. CW: just angst. Seriously - you’ve been warned. A little drabble I needed to get out. For @adarafaelbarba’s birthday bingo - breakup.

—

You swallowed your drink in one shot, relishing in the burn as it went down your throat. You had come to Forlini’s to get away from a rough day at work. You should have known they would be here too - it was Rafael’s favorite watering hole. You ordered another shot and then watched Rafael and Yelina walk towards the door through the mirrored panel behind the bar top. You turned slightly and you saw Rafael’s hand was on the small of Yelina’s back, an intimate gesture that you were all too familiar with. Rafael used to cradle that same spot on you when you’d leave Forlini’s together.

“I left my purse. I’ll be back mi amor.”

The door opened and shut and you assumed Rafael was going to wait outside. When Yelina walked by, you shot back your drink and slammed it hard. "You don't deserve him," you blurted suddenly.

Your outburst caused Yelina to stop in her tracks. She turned around and gave you her full attention. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of you. She gave you a steely cold look. "You're right. I don't."

You were speechless at Yelina’s brusqueness. Her mouth twitched into a celebratory smile and your guts churned as she continued.

"But in the end, I've got him. And that's all that matters."

FIN.

[plaidbooks]

Sonni

A/N: Coffeeshop AU? Coffeeshop AU. Just a cute little thought with Sonny that I planned out last May and then never wrote. This covers the Barista square in @adarafaelbarba​ birthday bingo. Enjoy!

Tags: none

Words: 715

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart​​  @beccabarba​  @thatesqcrush​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @permanentlydizzy​ @ben-c-group-therapy​  @infiniteoddball​ @glowingmess​ @whimsicallymad​ @lv7867​ @storiesofsvu​ @cycat4077​ @alwaysachorusgirl​  @glimmerglittergirl​ @joanofarkansass​ @caracalwithchips​ @beardsanddetectives​  @reading--mermaid​  @averyhotchner​  @mrsrafaelbarba​ @detective-giggles​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @dreamlover31​

You hated the closing shift at the on-campus café; though one would assume there’d be a rush of students cramming with caffeine assistance, it was normally dead the last few hours. It gave you plenty of time to clean, sanitize, and get the bar ready for the opening crew. You also normally ended up studying or doing an assignment in the dead space, too.

The only good thing about the closing shift came in about 30 minutes before closing. Sonny came in with his signature smile, bookbag hanging off his shoulder. His bright blue eyes and dimples had you swooning since you met him at the start of the term.

You grabbed a small cup, already knowing his order—but still, you double checked. “Small hazelnut latte?”

His grin widened, “with a memory like that, you should be a detective.”

You felt your cheeks warm as you smiled. Taking the cup, you wrote the order on it, then Sonny’s name. But this time, you left him a little surprise that he hopefully wouldn’t notice until after he left.

“I’m not that good—not to be a detective,” you replied as you started on his drink.

He leaned against the counter, watching you work. “Don’t sell yourself short—I come in here, what, once every other week? And ya still remember my order? That’s impressive.”

You didn’t want to tell him it’s because you found him adorable, so you didn’t respond. Once you finished his drink, you came over, handing it to him. For the briefest moment, your fingertips brushed each other, and your face heated a little more.

He smiled warmly, thanking you before reaching for his wallet.

“It’s on the house, Sonny,” you said, and his hand froze.

“Are ya sure? I don’t want you in trouble—”

“It’s already been taken care of,” you asserted.

This time, you saw the pink creep up his neck and onto his cheeks. “Thank you; I appreciate it,” he breathed.

“Don’t mention it,” you whispered back. You weren’t sure what kind of tension was between you two, but he finally broke it when he turned to leave. It wasn’t until he was walking to his next class that he looked at the cup, noticing you spelled his name “Sonni” with a heart over the “i.”

 *****************

The next time Sonny came in—about a week later—he was determined to repay you.

“How about a pastry? Or a coffee? Are ya really not hungry?” he asked you.

You smiled at his kindness. “I’m fine, Sonny. Thank you, though—I don’t need anything.”

He wasn’t willing to accept that, so this time, when he paid for his $4.75 drink, he gave you a $20. “Keep it—it’s all yours.”

“Sonny! I can’t accept this!”

His smile widened. “Yeah, ya can, and since you’re working alone, it’s yours.”

You thanked him meekly, putting his change aside for later. Then an idea struck you; you took his receipt with you while making his drink. He asked you general questions about your term so far, what you were studying—just small talk while waiting.

Before you could lose your nerve, you quickly wrote your number on his receipt. Once his drink was ready, you passed it to him, along with the receipt. To your discomfort, he looked at his receipt instantly, his eyes widening before flicking up to you, a small smile appearing on his face.

“Ya know, I’ve wanted ta ask ya out for a while now, but I was raised ta never ask someone who couldn’t run away,” he said sheepishly, and you giggled. “But, as long as I’m not misreading the signs, may I ask ya out ta dinner?”

You thought it was adorable how careful he was being; he was obviously raised right. “I’d love to go to dinner with you. I’m off Saturday night,” you replied.

“Saturday night it is, then. I’ll text ya after class tonight.”

You both grinned at each other like fools before he finally turned and left. You had butterflies in your stomach, thinking about going on a date with Sonny. And unbeknownst to you, as soon as Sonny was out of view of the café, he pumped his arm in victory—spilling only a little bit of his coffee in the process.

[plaidbooks]

Cabin Life - Picnic

A/N: What started as a thought for outdoor fucking just turned into fluff. So, enjoy some woodsy!Sonny fluff! This covers the Picnic square in @adarafaelbarba​ birthday bingo!

Tags: none, just fluff

Words: 841

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart​  @beccabarba​  @thatesqcrush​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @permanentlydizzy​ @ben-c-group-therapy​  @infiniteoddball​ @glowingmess​ @whimsicallymad​ @lv7867​ @storiesofsvu​ @cycat4077​ @alwaysachorusgirl​  @glimmerglittergirl​ @joanofarkansass​ @caracalwithchips​ @beardsanddetectives​  @reading--mermaid​  @averyhotchner​  @mrsrafaelbarba​ @detective-giggles​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @dreamlover31​

Sonny had packed a wicker basket overflowing with food, and you had the ice chest of drinks. Neither of you bothered with the truck—the clearing was within walking distance. A week prior, Sonny had found this little clearing by the river. Since then, he’s been tending to the wild grass on the ground, making a place for picnics.

After grabbing a few blankets, Sonny led you out of the cabin and towards the clearing. You both chatted about nothing on the way, but you stopped short when you saw the space.

In a little copse of trees, there was a small clearing, the soft ground covered with short grass and tree bark. The river gurgled gently as it rushed through, and the sun glinted off the water through the canopy of leaves above you. Sonny put the basket down on a rock, balancing it precariously as he spread out the blankets.

“Come join me,” he coaxed, grabbing the basket and kneeling on the blankets.

You grinned in amazement. “How’re you so perfect?” you asked. You’d been dating for only a few short months, but Sonny was like something out of a fairy tale.

“I’m not perfect, doll,” he replied, smiling his perfect smile, his perfect eyes sparkling. He held a hand out to you, and you took it, letting him lead you onto the blanket.

You put the ice chest down before sitting by him. “You are too! You’re the perfect guy!” you exclaimed. You opened the chest and passed him a bottle of juice you had made that morning, with apples from the orchard.

He chuckled deep in his chest, taking the juice. “Maybe I’m just perfect for you…because I think you’re perfect.”

You scoffed. “Me? Perfect? I cut my finger on the apples this morning,” you asserted, holding up your bandaged finger as proof. If you tried hard enough, you could still feel his lips against the bandaid, kissing it better after he had tended to the wound.

He gave you that look that always made you melt; his wide, heart-stopping grin that couldn’t be contained by his beard, coupled with his bright blue eyes, dancing in amusement. When he looked at you like this, it was like you were the only other person in the world.

“And I stubbed my toe on the bedframe when getting dressed. No one is perfect, doll,” he said.

You really didn’t mean to smile, but you couldn’t help yourself; you were trying to picture the scene. You’ve never seen Sonny mad, never heard him curse, really. It was hard imagining him as anything but happy.

Sonny saw your reaction and gave you a playful smile. “Oh, ha ha, I hurt myself doing something mundane—ya don’t need ta laugh, doll.”

That made you giggle, and he smiled wider at the sound. “No—it’s not that, I promise! I just never thought that Mr. Perfect would ever be caught hurting himself or cussing.”

He laughed, the sound echoing throughout the copse. If you didn’t already love this man, his laugh alone would have you falling hard for him. Shaking his head, still chuckling, he opened the basket. Taking out half the sandwich he made that morning, he passed it to you.

You thanked him, taking it and unwrapping it. Before you could take a bite, though, Sonny said, “how about that fuckin’ weather, huh?”

You blinked—it took you a moment to understand what he said, and then you were laughing. He grinned at you, eyes dancing as he watched you try and control yourself.

“I love you, Sonny—ya know that?” you said once you got your laughter in check.

He took a bite of his own half sandwich, chewing it thoughtfully before swallowing. “I do, and I’m still amazed that ya do every day. You’re the love of my life, doll, and I’m still in shock that ya chose me.”

You smiled softly at him—you could say the same thing about him. You may have only started dating a few months ago, but you already knew that he was the one. And by the way he looked at you, you knew he felt the same.

As if reading your mind, he muttered, “I’m gonna marry you one day, doll. Wake up next to ya every morning, entranced by you. And even when I’m old ‘n’ grey, and we’ve been together longer than either of us can count, I’ll still be amazed that ya chose me.”

You shifted to your knees, crawling over to him. Placing your sandwich down, you reached forward to grab his shirt, and tugged him to you in a kiss. He hummed against your lips, tilting his head to press his lips more firmly to yours. With one arm—the other still holding his own food—he managed to pull you into his lap.

“I love you,” he muttered against your lips, pushing his forehead against yours.

You snuck another kiss before saying it back to him, whispering your love and sealing it with another kiss.

[plaidbooks]

Champion - “The Big Leagues” baseball AU

A/N: I haven’t forgotten about this AU--I just had no inspiration for it for a while. That being said, here’s another (maybe last?) installment. Up until now, the AU was closely tied to real life events. This chapter, however, is not, since the Mets haven’t won a World Series in forever. But I wanted to explore Sonny winning one, so here it is haha.

This covers the Sports square in @adarafaelbarba​ birthday bingo.

Tags: some suggestive talk at the end, but not enough to say this is nsfw

Words: 1475

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart​  @beccabarba​  @thatesqcrush​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @permanentlydizzy​ @ben-c-group-therapy​  @infiniteoddball​ @glowingmess​ @whimsicallymad​ @lv7867​ @storiesofsvu​ @cycat4077​ @alwaysachorusgirl​  @glimmerglittergirl​ @joanofarkansass​ @caracalwithchips​ @beardsanddetectives​  @reading--mermaid​  @averyhotchner​  @mrsrafaelbarba​ @detective-giggles​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @dreamlover31​

It was much colder in Minnesota than New York, the October night air chilly on your face. You checked that your four-month-old was bundled up tightly, headphones with white noise covering her ears. You smiled down at her; she was out cold. Glancing at the seat next to you, you found your three-year-old son as hyper as ever. Your mother-in-law was holding his hands while he stood on her knees, and she bounced him. He laughed heartily, which made your smile grow.

“Come on, ump! That was a strike!” Dominick Sr. called out angrily. Normally, he sat stoically while watching the game, but there were a couple factors to his annoyance. One, he was slightly distracted with his wife playing with his grandchild right next to him. And two, Sonny was pitching in what should be the last game of the World Series. If the Mets won tonight, it was all over.

A chill ran down your spine as the wind picked up, and you hugged your jacket closer to you. Generally, you would be in the locker room with the other family members, but you knew that the camera crews would want reaction shots of Sonny’s family. So, the three of you decided to brave the cold weather until the 8th inning, then move.

So far, the Mets were leading 3-1, and Sonny was still pitching. And boy, was he pitching; his mechanics and focus reminded you of the early days, when you were first writing up analysis reports on the new kid.

Dominick Sr.’s loud clapping snapped your attention back to the present. Sonny had just gotten the last out in the 6th inning—10 strikeouts on the night. During the transition between innings, though, he turned to play with his namesake, Dominick the Third.

“Your daddy’s doing amazing out there, bub. His fastball is unhittable,” he told your son. You grinned, shaking your head as he started having an analytical talk, breaking down Sonny’s mechanics, with a three-year-old. By the time he’s five, he’ll be dissecting batting stances, you thought, amused.

“Daddy!” Dominick III chirped back.

His grandfather smiled. “That’s right. Daddy’s doing good. He’s got a mean windup, and he’s—”

“Uh ihibibble!” he said with confidence. You took it to mean “unhittable.”

“Very good! Let’s try it slower. Un-hit-a-ble.” He enunciated each section until your child was babbling it back to him uncontrollably.

Mama Carisi leaned over to you, whispering, “oh god, I’m having flashbacks to raising Sonny.” You laughed heartily, but quickly stopped yourself when the vibrations made your newborn stir. You rocked her gently back to sleep before focusing your attention back on the game.

 ***************

Dominick Sr. was a little peeved to have missed the start of the 8th inning, but it was a fight to get from the stands into the locker room. At least it’s warm, you thought as you crowded around the huge screen, eyes locked to the action. The other wives were packed around you, the children either with other family members or with the care givers the team provides.

You were still cradling your daughter in your arms, but Dominick III was playing with Sonny’s mom. While she supported both Dominick’s and understood the broad strokes of baseball, she was never really a huge watcher. At least, not once Sonny wasn’t playing, and he was taken out this inning for the closer.

It drove you wild knowing that Sonny was so close—just on the other side of a door and up some stairs—but that you couldn’t see him, not until the end of the game. At least you had the game to distract you; as much as you loved Sonny, and he was your one and only, baseball was your other true love. And it had been many years since the championship came home to the Mets.

The ninth inning may have been the tensest moment of your life; tenser than Sonny proposing, or your wedding, or even your births. All those were plannable, had expected outcomes. But baseball had a way of going screwy, and you were nervous.

It was like the world had stopped, the crowd—and subsequently, the locker room—going deathly still as the closer gripped the ball. There were two outs, and the Mets only needed one more to secure the World Series, to go home happy. You held your breath with everyone else as the closer leaned back, then threw the ball.

The batter swung hard, absolutely crushing the ball. You went on a rollercoaster of emotions as it looked like an easy homerun—which would tie the game. Shock, terror, remorse, grief—it all flashed through you as the ball arched towards the fence. But in a last-ditch effort, the right fielder launched up onto the wall, throwing his arm out.

You and Dominick Sr. saw it first. Did he just—? you thought before he came back onto the field, glove held high…a ball nestled inside.

“No fucking way,” you and Dominick Sr. mumbled together. But yes; the player stood, ball in his glove. He caught it. The Mets just won the World Series.

The locker room exploded into noise, and the fans outside could be heard cheering—and booing—too. You and your father-in-law continued watching; they had to review the ending play to make sure it was a catch and not a homerun. But once confirmed to be the final out, you cheered. Dominick Sr. grabbed your shoulders and pulled you in for a tight hug. You hugged him back one handed, tears of happiness in your eyes.

Your daughter woke up from the commotion, and you quickly started bouncing her, trying to calm her. But your need to see Sonny was overpowering you. So, you found Dominick III with your mother-in-law.

“Want to go see daddy?” you asked over the cacophony of sounds. He nodded and you took his hand with your free one. You carefully went up the stairs with him and out onto the field.

The team was celebrating out on the grass, cheering and shouting. You noticed the sports stations trying to get interviews with players—especially the closer and right fielder. You knew they’d be looking for Sonny, too, but you wanted to find him first.

And there he was; in a sea of bodies, two bright blue eyes found you. He hurried towards you, gently pushing passed people, the brightest smile on his face. Gripping Dominick’s hand tighter, you made your way to him.

Once to you, Sonny stooped to pick up his son, kissing his cheek and putting his too-big hat on his son’s head. Then he turned to you and gave you a sweet, lingering kiss, full of joy and excitement. You wrapped your free arm around his neck, pulling him closer to you, trying to express all your pride for him into the contact.

He finally broke the kiss, both of you breathing a little hard. He smiled at you, kissing your nose before dipping to kiss his daughter’s forehead.

“Mr. Carisi; an interview, please?” a woman standing next to you both asked, and he smiled, agreeing. He made no move to put his son down as he turned to the camera.

 ********************

After the team celebration ended, all of your family found themselves on the plane headed for home. It was around 3am—4am back home—and Sonny’s parents took your kids to go sleep. Team jets had their own little rooms for napping on long flights. You and Sonny, however, were sitting in adjacent chairs, his arm around you and your head on his shoulder.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Sonny,” you whispered; most of the team was passed out, and the plane was quiet.

He rubbed his cheek against your hair, then shifted to kiss the top of your head. “I couldn’t have done this without ya, doll. Always supportin’ me. You and the kids.” He squeezed your shoulder, pulling you closer against him.

You took his free hand in your lap and played with his fingers. “How about,” you started before turning to look up at him. He felt your gaze and looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “You rest and relax once home. And on the weekend, we have your parents watch the kids…while we try for a third child….”

His eyes darkened, and his lips twitched upwards. “Fuck, doll—ya know just how ta turn me on. If I knew you could be quiet, I’d have ya in my lap before we landed.”

“Want to join the mile high club, eh? You know my panties can make an effective gag.”

He growled low in his throat, his eyes scanning your face. “I love ya so much, ya know that right?” You nodded, giggling, and he pulled at you. “Then come here; get in my lap.”

[adowbaldwin]

#adarafaelbarbabirthdaybingo

Birthday square

* warning, this fic is absolutely ridiculous and how i have the audacity to write it, is beyond me

Baldwin loosend his tie, tightened it again, then huffed in frustration "fuck" he grumpt, ultimately deciding he looked absolutely awful

"I dont know why youre bothering to dress" Domenico nipped at his ear, hand slowly moving down "much rather we skipped dinner"

Baldwin groaned, and not a happy one. It was so wrong "dont" he whispered, shame seeping into his bones. It was fucking Domenico he was fucking Domenico. Not right this moment, but for the past few months they had been sneaking around

"If you are going to spend your birthday dinner sulking about you liking my dick in your ass, i might just go back to Venice" Domenico gave him a challenging look reflecting through the mirror

Baldwin narrowed his eyes, turning on his heels "i dont like your tone"

Domenico smirked wickedly "punish me for it later, come on we're late for our reservation"

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

Domenico was intent on sucking the biggest bruise into Baldwins neck, relentless in his efforts "did we?" Baldwin sounded dazed, confused

"We did" he stopped then, only for a moment in recognition of what they had done "weird, isnt it?"

Baldwin looked down at his bare chest, teeth marks slowly heeling "we mated"

"Mmmm" Domenico smiled faintly "regrets?"

Baldwin crossed his brows "no" he turned his head in confusion "i think i may like the idea of owning you"

"Says last nights bottom" Domenico scoffed, hands wandering lower lower

"I like what i like, dont make me no ones bitch" Baldwin thrust up into his hand "and its my birthday, i deserve to be spoiled" he pulled him down for a searing kiss, revelling in their special moment.

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

Matthew raised a curious brow at his brother "your scent is" he cleared his throat "off" he couldnt place it, the other scent mixed with his brothers but he knew one thing: he had mated

"Thays what i need to talk to you about" Baldwin rushed through the door, dragging Matthew with him to their fathers old office. Which now perhaps technically is Matthews, but fuck Matthew "im going to talk, you are going to listen"

"Okay" in his life Matthew had been screamed at by Baldwin, had serious talks and all manner of conversation. Never, ever had he seen him nervous or unsure "go on"

"And you cant judge me either because you broke the fucking covenant and its your fault because your fucking wife stresses me out" he tugged at his tie, sinking heavy into the chair opposite

"Baldwin, im starting to be" he looked at the dishevelled man infront of him "im concerned"

"Well, just remember ive been under stress!" His voice crept up an octave "i mated"

"I can smell that, her scents all muddled in with yours" Matthew crossed his brows, smirk rising "shes a witch, isnt she?"

Baldwin rubbed his face sighing "i wish it were a witch" he cleared his throat "Domenico -" he squeaked, cut off by a loud echoing rumble

"Did he do something to her" Matthew growled, automatically assuming his brothers visible turmoil had been because the cunt had done something to his new mate "did he do something to your mate?" The very mention of his name had hairs standing all over

"I mated... with Domenico" Baldwin whispered, anxiety coiled in his voice

Matthew blinked, stood up, and fainted.

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

Also, credit where credit is due:

@adarafaelbarba * im 93.7% sure its less then 500 words 😂

[plaidbooks]

Unlikely Timing part 2

A/N: Hey y’all! This is a continuation of the bartender!Mike fic (part one here). It gets a little meta at the end, when wasn’t my intention and just kinda happened. Oh well haha. This covers the Bartender square in @adarafaelbarba​ birthday bingo!

Edit: fuck I didn’t tag anyone oh my god

Tags: none

Words: 1453

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart​  @beccabarba​  @thatesqcrush​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @permanentlydizzy​ @ben-c-group-therapy​  @infiniteoddball​ @glowingmess​ @whimsicallymad​ @lv7867​ @storiesofsvu​ @cycat4077​ @alwaysachorusgirl​  @glimmerglittergirl​ @joanofarkansass​ @caracalwithchips​ @beardsanddetectives​  @qvid-pro-qvo​  @averyhotchner​ @imalostredheadinablondeworld​

Mike whistled as he walked to work, dodging through the crowd of people going to-and-fro. While walking, though, he happened to glance into a window that caught his eye. It was a bookstore that had brightly colored posters of quotes and eye-catching books on the displays. But none of that caught his eye; what made him stop was a book, leaning on its little easel for display. Unlikely Timing the title read, but the author’s name was immediately recognizable.

After checking his watch, Mike ducked quickly into the store.

******************

It was a Tuesday morning, so the bar was sloooooow. Mike made sure to take care of the one or two customers that came in, but any time he wasn’t busy making a drink or cleaning or prepping for later, he was reading. A few patrons asked about it, to which he replied with a smile, “one of my regulars wrote it.”

He made it halfway through the novel by the time he was off work. He loved your style, your prose, how you wrote emotions and dialogue. And he planned on finishing it that night, on the assumption that you’d be coming in on your normal Thursday.

When he eventually met the love interest, there was a little tingling in the back of his mind, but he shrugged it off, unable to capture what it was. It wasn’t until almost the end of the novel that he realized; this is me. I’m the love interest.

He immediately stopped reading—not because he was weirded out or disgusted, but because he wanted to think. If he was the love interest—which, the more he thought about, the more he realized he was—then that meant there were a good chance that the main character was someone, too. And if logic prevailed, it was most likely you.

He pulled his bookmark out of the book. If he was correct and that you were the main character, then that meant he could learn a little bit about you from this book. Everything added—and omitted—suddenly took on a whole new meaning; this novel, as great as it was, was also a look into you as a person.

Plans on making dinner flew out the window, and Mike ordered takeout. Then he sat on his couch and started reading again from page one.

***

Like almost every Thursday, you made your way into Lucky’s almost empty establishment. Mike was behind the bar like usual, but something about how he smiled and greeted you seemed different. There was something behind it, but you couldn’t quite place it.

You sat in your normal seat, and Mike had your drink ready before you could even open your laptop.

“Thank you,” you said, smiling softly as he placed it in front of you.

“Of course,” he replied, brushing it off. He nodded at your laptop, “starting a new novel? Or a sequel?”

You had finished your first novel over a month ago, and it had only finally got printed. But this was the first time you brought the laptop to Lucky’s since the final send in for publication.

“Um, just shooting ideas for the sequel. I have a broad overview of the story and plot, but not quite the nitty gritty details yet,” you smiled sheepishly.

He nodded along with your explanation, but you noticed a pink tint appearing on his neck and cheeks. “Can I ask for a spoiler? Do the characters get together in the second book?”

You blinked; how could he know they didn’t get together in the first place? That the book ended ambiguous, yet hopeful for a relationship? That is, unless….

It clicked, then. Mike had read your novel. And not only that, but he had recognized himself…and you. That look behind his smile earlier was familiarity. He knew, and now, he knew more about you.

This thought process took a matter of seconds, and he had watched your face intently as you came to that conclusion. When you finally glanced up into his eyes, he had a look of worry; worry that he had somehow offended you.

You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “They do. But how and when…I haven’t decided quite yet.” It was easier to talk about fake characters in a fictional book, rather than about yourself and the very attractive—very close—bartender standing inches away from you.

He was close enough that you could see every soft hair on his head, smell his cologne underneath the smell of food and alcohol from his work. His eyes were bright; a beautiful color that you wouldn’t mind staring into for hours.

“Have a good one, Mike!” the one other patron in the bar called out. You flinched slightly at the unexpected sound, but Mike didn’t so much as blink.

“See you later, Gerald,” he called back, his deep voice invading your space, but it was welcome. This closeness, this moment you both were having; it was special, and you were afraid to break it. The door closed behind the man, leaving only you and Mike.

“Maybe,” you said, as if you were continuing your thought process without interruption, nor the distraction of staring into his eyes, “maybe they go out for a date at a coffeeshop? Though, that seems kind of boring now that I think about it.”

Mike smiled, moving slightly to lean his chin on a hand, elbow propped on your table. “Boring can be a good thing. And a date between two people—regardless of what the date pertains—can still have a spark.”

You felt your face heat. You were still talking about book characters…right? Truth be told, you didn’t think either of you were ever talking about characters.

“It just doesn’t fit the theme,” you muttered, your voice far softer now that he had moved closer. The space between you had grown intimate without anyone else there. “I want…spontaneous. Something unexpected, but yet it feels right, to both characters and readers—”

You were cut off when Mike moved in and kissed you. His lips were soft, and he was gentle, almost questioning, giving you plenty of time to pull away or push him off. You did neither; instead, you grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer.

Sparks went off in your mind, and you felt wholly and truly alive with his touch. Every sense heightened and time slowed to a crawl as you kissed him back. His arms gently wrapped around your neck, a hand weaving through your hair. Goosebumps erupted along your skin, and you couldn’t help but gasp against his mouth.

All too soon, he leaned back, though his arms stayed wrapped around you, holding you close. And when he spoke, his breath was soft and warm on your lips.

“Was that spontaneous enough for you?” he asked, the hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Looking at his lips only made you want to kiss him more, and it was a struggle to think straight.

“Spontaneous, yeah…but will the readers buy it as organic?”

He let out a chuckle that slowly grew to a laugh, and he finally let you go. “Maybe the coffeeshop date would be a better idea. Hell, you can just leave it as ambiguous, if you wanted to; they go for a date, then the scene fades to black.”

You hummed in approval. “Who knew you were a writer, Mike?”

“Not a writer, but an avid reader.” He went to move away from your table, but you reached out for him, not ready to be alone quite yet. He noticed and caught your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips.

“I’ll be right back, darling, promise,” he whispered to your hand, giving it another warm kiss then pulling away to go back behind the bar.

Your head was spinning; were you going on a date with Mike? Would it be too awkward to ask him after a kiss like that? You swallowed, wishing that you hadn’t been talking through characters, and had been more explicit—

You jumped when you noticed movement in front of you; you had been too lost in your thoughts to hear Mike approach. Laying on the table in front of you was a piece of paper, Mike’s name and number scrawled across it.

“I have Mondays and Wednesdays off; let me know when you’re free. I’ll either take you to a ‘boring’ coffeeshop date, or something more fun…if you wanted,” he explained.

You looked from the paper to his gorgeous eyes. “I’ll do anything with you, Mike…as long as it’s with you.”

He smiled, then bent down to steal another kiss.

[butternuggets-blog]

Valentine’s Day Prompt

~NSFW SMUT/P**N WITHOUT PLOT~

~Baldwin/Female Reader

___ was used instead of Y/N because I think it’s neater ^^ Picture whichever Baldwin you want 

___ woke up as the sheets rustled behind her and a warm arm snaked around her middle.

‘Mm..good mor-oh..’

___ shivered as Baldwin’s thumb brushed over her nipple. He stroked her breast again as he pressed soft kisses down the side of her neck.

‘Baldwin’

‘Shh’ 

Baldwin’s hands slid lower as he kissed slowly down  ___ ‘s spine. He sucked a little at  ___ ‘s thigh;  she moaned and opened her legs wider, propping them up onto Baldwin’s shoulders and reaching down to run her fingers through his hair.

Baldwin settled down in front of her and licked lazy circles around  ___’s clit.

‘OH...oohh...’

Baldwin started licking firmly at  ___ ‘s clit, sucking and flicking with the tip of his tongue.  ___ arched off the bed, hands desperately scrabbling for a grip on Baldwin’s shoulders as he ground his tongue down.

‘OH..oh God..yes..’

Baldwin kept up the rough, quick movement, running his tongue back and forth over  ___, as he gently parted her folds and crooked a finger in side her.

‘OH! oHH THAT’S TOO MUCH..DON’T STOP-’

___ felt like she was on fire. She sobbed out a moan, her thighs trembling, then clenching tight as she came. Baldwin pulled his hand away and crawled up to face her, cupping her breasts with both hands and kissing her fiercely as he slid into her.

___ wrapped her legs around him and clung onto the headboard as he thrust deep inside of her, pounding hard. He wasn’t going to last five minutes at this rate-  ___ was bouncing now- but he tried his best and managed to hold on just long enough to have  ___ screaming through her second orgasm that morning.

He pressed a gentle kiss to  ___ ‘s cheek as he reached for the box of tissues on the night stand.

‘Happy Valentine’s Day’

[adarafaelbarba]

Row 3 and 4

Row three: Valentine's Day --- Librarian --- Zoologist --- Medical Examiner --- Archaelogist

Row four: Seamstress --- Wedding Planner/Florist/Baker --- Sparring/Personal Trainer --- Break-up/Make-up --- Bartender